Date: Mon, 12 Dec 2005 06:08:06 -0800 (PST) From: Reflex Subject: 'Trapped Muscle-Cop' Part 12 {Reflex} (M^M bd nc reluc humil) Disclaimer: If you are under 18 years of age or if it is illegal to read material of this kind where you live, then please stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between men. It is entirely a work of fictional entertainment. Trapped Muscle-Cop, Part 12 By Reflex (reflex012004@yahoo.com) Copyright 2005 Part 12: Taking A Load Off Tony was in an agitated mood all afternoon. He couldn't get his mind off the fact that he had sucked off his partner. The mess he was in at home had now spread to his life at the station. "Geeze, the guy must think I'm a total cocksucker. Fuck! Jason's fuckin' got me by my big hairy balls; that bastard could really screw with my chances of getting the promotion," Tony thought. "Who the fuck is this 'notredamefan' and what is he gonna make me do next? Dammit I am so stuck!" In spite of his frustrating situation, Tony couldn't help thinking about Jason's big dick. "It was firm and yet soft at the same time," he thought, "kind of silky on my tongue and fuck if it didn't taste pretty good all coated with that damned mustard and relish. Shit, I guess that was kinda hot... bein' force-fed Jason's very own 'Tasty Frank', heh heh. Damn, what am I thinkin'?" As his mind replayed the image of Jason's muscular hairy chest and his partner's strong hands playing with his own muscle-bound hairy arms, Tony's dick twitched and pulsed. His balls still ached with the need for sweet release. While Tony considered his situation, he couldn't help admiring his reflection in a store window. The sight of his perfectly toned body packed into his tight uniform brought a smile to his face. Then, he noticed the tent in his pants. "Oh fuck!" He instinctively reached down to cover his bulge with his hands, but the physical contact only made the situation worse. He spent the rest of the afternoon hot and sweaty with his obscene condition attracting attention from passers-by. The minimal control Tony had been able to exercise over his stiff prong and itchy balls disappeared when he got to the gym later. He pulled the small gray cotton shorts up his thick hairy thighs. "Man these shorts really hug my hot bubble butt!" he thought. Tony smiled and let out a little chuckle. "Better be careful Tony-boy," he muttered to himself, "one fart outta you and the seams on these shorts are gonna blast apart, ha!" Tony picked up the old faded navy-blue tee-shirt and sniffed the pits. Instinctively, he reached down with his left hand and gave his dick a quick rub. "Is this even gonna fit?" he said to himself as he put his arms through the sleeves and began pushing his head through the neck hole. With a lot of tugging, Tony got the musky garment over his bulging pecs and most of the way down his torso. There was still about a three-inch gap between the top of his shorts and the bottom of the tee-shirt. Tony frowned, "Well, I suppose that's one good reason to keep my fuckin' pubes all trimmed. Huh, I bet the chicks would go wild for me in this fuckin' outfit!" As the cocky cop thought about some babe swinging off his thick porker, he headed out to weight room. Tony's boned-up condition did not go unnoticed by Pete as the two gym studs joined up to workout together. Rather than overtly confronting Tony with the humiliating state of his shorts, however, Pete decided to see if he could stimulate Tony's problem even more. "Damn, what are you tryin' to do Tony? Put the rest of us outta business? You're lookin' way too sexy in that outfit! Spare a thought for the competition, huh," Pete said with an infectious grin. Tony ate up Pete's flattering words. It didn't occur to him to return the compliment. Pete was simply stating the truth. Pete's little ploy achieved its ends, however, in so far as it got Tony to puff up his chest and flex his biceps for him. Further, it drew Tony's competitive gaze upon Pete's own muscular chest wrapped in a close-fitting tank-top with a low-slung collar. Pete's huge protruding pectoral mounds were almost entirely exposed. "Man his pecs are as big as mine... just as hairy too... all neat and tidy around the edges... huh...," Tony thought as he stared. Pete pretended not to notice, but Tony's attention was fixed right were he wanted it. About forty-five minutes later Pete was spotting for Tony on the weightbench. He kept his legs spread apart, his crotch only inches above Tony's nose. If the self-absorbed Italian cop thought this was a little odd, he didn't say anything. As Tony inhaled and exhaled deeply, Pete thought to himself, "Yeah, buddy... come to daddy. You go right on and keep breathing in all those nice rich smells... I didn't wash today, heh heh... wanted to make sure those nice manly odors between my legs were real strong. Gonna get you good and hooked. Won't be long before you associate being flat on your back and pumping your muscles with having the ripe smell of my hairy crotch in your face." Pete could hardly wait to get Tony over to his house. "No need for this little gym, buddy. I got all the workout equipment we could want right down in my basement." Pete had a vision of spotting for Tony at home: the handsome Italian stud lying on the bench, slowly pumping the weights up and down while his tongue licked the velvety skin and tickled the hairs between Pete's legs. "And there'll be no stoppin' for you until I spray my dicksauce all over that hot little tee-shirt you're wearing..." Tony traded places with Pete for a while and then they headed off to the lockers. Neither guy showered, which was fine with Pete. Tony was relieved that Pete didn't seem to notice or care that he didn't wash up, in fact, didn't even change out of his gym clothes after a hot sweaty workout. Pete had no idea what the reason for this was, but the fact that it didn't appear to bother him, put Tony at ease. In fact, Tony was thinking what a cool guy Pete was and suggested going for a beer. No sooner had he issued the invitation to Pete, then he realized he had nothing to wear but his uniform and he wasn't really supposed to change back into that without Rick and Tom's approval. "Oh, damn Pete, sorry man, I completely forgot... I haven't got any civilian clothes to change into and I can't really walk into a bar like this." Pete wasn't about to let this opportunity slip through his fingers. "Hey, no problem guy, I've got an extra pair of cargo shorts. With your tee and sneaks, you'll be fine, dude." Tony accepted the offer of Pete's shorts and decided to hell with Rick and Tom. The two pumped muscular men slammed their lockers shut and strolled out of the gym to a place Pete knew a couple blocks away called The Mad Dog Tavern. It was a fairly dark and dingy watering hole favored by the guys from the local army base. Pete liked the sights and smells and thought it might lure Tony into the right mood. Sure enough, they had not been sitting at the bar for more than ten minutes when the strong masculine odor of the place and the crowd of young, fit, crew-cut men began to draw its net around Tony. His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply and his cock firmed up again. Tony's mind clouded over with subconscious lust as Pete rambled on about how much he liked working out with him, how Tony was a real man's man and did he watch the baseball game the other night. Tony was having a hard time concentrating. Like a lot of young guys, his brain-power weakened as his dick stiffened up. This was a particularly perilous situation for Tony given that he wasn't the brightest bulb in the box to begin with. The events of the day were still bouncing back and forth between his two brain cells. Rational thought about the situation was losing the battle against the ticklish feelings down in his jock-strap. He unconsciously rubbed his dick through the shorts. Pete stopped talking and waved his hand in front of Tony's face. "Hey... are ya there guy?" Pete asked. "Huh, yeah... sorry man, I... I... Pete... I'm in trouble man," Tony said. "Oh yeah, judging by your crotch, it looks like you're in good shape to me," Pete laughed. Tony looked down and turned red. "No really man, I don't know what to do," Tony said. "Well, what's the problem? Take a load off. Maybe I can help," Pete responded congenially. Tony looked at Pete. He was dying to tell someone, but was worried that he might end up simply exposing himself to more trouble. Tony frowned and flagged the bartender down for another beer. "Go on, you can tell me. Shit, what are gym buddies for," Pete said, clapping a hand on Tony's shoulder. Pete left his hand there. The bartender arrived with Tony's next beer. The cop took a big gulp, looked Pete straight in the eyes, turned his head to scan the room, and then looked back. "I don't know man, its too weird. You'll think I'm some kinda asshole freak. I'm tellin' ya it's some heavy shit." Pete took his fingers off Tony's shoulder and lightly tapped the back of his hand on Tony's left pectoral. "Hey, whatever guy, but if ya wanna tell me, just tell me. Not a lot in this world surprises me," Pete said with a wink. Tony thought a bit more. "Well," he said, it... uh... it started like this..." Steeling his nerves, Tony gave Pete a brief outline of events since that Thursday night earlier in the Summer, when he had been captured. Pete, who thought he had seen it all, was nonetheless surprised. It did, however, explain some aspects of Tony's behavior. Pete did his best to make consoling faces, looking at various points shocked, outraged, caring, and if Tony had been sharp enough to see it, cunning. Tony didn't really want to go into details, but Pete pressed him, asking specific questions. His voice seemed friendly and reassuring. He hadn't leapt off his stool and run out of the bar as Tony had thought he might. In fact, Pete seemed to be taking Tony's story in his stride, even teasing the worked-up cop about some of what he was saying. Pete was engaged in a delicate balancing act. He had to keep Tony talking, drawing out ever more revealing information, while building up a sense of trust. At the same time, Pete's own dick was pounding with excitement. "So guy, you tellin' me that they, like, get ya all turned on and shit playin' with your man-tits... like this?" Pete said as he reached over and lightly grabbed Tony tits through his tee-shirt. Pete used his fingers to graze the tight cotton back and forth across Tony's ever-sensitive nipples. "Wha-huh, yeah, hey, cut that out, ha ha... come on this is a bar for cryin' out loud... hey!" Pete let go and smiled. He patted Tony on the cheek and chuckled. "So, what else do they do to ya?" Tony told Pete other things, leaning closer and whispering like he was passing on top-secret information. Pete grinned at the twitching hard-on Tony was sprouting in the cargo shorts and he was all ears when Tony told him about the website. "And ya see, Pete, thing is, now there's this guy, I don't who the fuck he is, but he's sending me e-mail at work, the fucker knows where I work, ya got me?" Tony said. "Yeah guy, I got'ya!" Pete replied. "Shit man, he told me I had to do shit with my partner an' all. Now I'm really in hot water. He said I had to give the dude a tongue bath and suck him off. Can you fucking believe it? Me! Do that?! No fuckin' way." "So ya didn't do it? Right." "Well, yeah, that's the thing. I did. I sucked off my fuckin' partner! I had to man. Only now, shit, he took pictures and he's gonna use them to make sure he gets the promotion and not me. Fuck!" "Whaddya mean?" Pete asked. "Blackmail, man. He said that if I didn't withdraw my name from the promotion request, he'd show the pictures to the Chief. I'd be fuckin' ruined, man," Tony said. "Right, I can see that. So did ya lick him too?" Pete asked. "No man, there wasn't enough time so now I gotta do that tomorrow, at my place. He's comin' over to work on his tan. Geeze." "Shit guy, he's really got ya good. You got all those muscles, but in the end, this guy's got control of you." "I know man, I know. Can ya believe it? A hot piece of beefcake like me and I'm fuckin' trapped... dammit!" Without thinking, Tony reached down and rubbed his dick again. "Who is this guy?" Pete asked. "O'Reilly, Jason O'Reilly. He's an asshole Pete. Of all the guys on the force, it had to be him." "So wait, how did this guy who sent you the e-mail know that you patrolled with this O'Reilly guy? Why didn't he say you had to suck off the captain or somebody else?" "I don't know. He said he's seen us out on patrol. O'Reilly's a sexy-assed fucker man, almost as hot as me. This jerk seemed to think it'd be cool to watch two total studs go at it. Fuckin' bastard." Tony punched his right fist into his left palm. He was agitated and now on his third beer, but Pete seemed to be supportive. "Listen buddy, you gotta get those pictures back from O'Reilly. The two of us can probably take him, threaten to beat the crap outta him." "We might be able to, but that would just piss him off. He'd go straight to the Captain and report it." "So, what proof would he have, especially if we got the pictures back. Sounds like everyone knows you guys are rivals, so they might expect him to pull something like that." "They'd be more likely to expect it from me. O'Reilly is pretty popular. I don't know how he does it though. He's really a shithead. Thinks he's better than me. Can you believe that?" "No way guy, you gotta be the best cop that station has!" Pete enthusiastically assured Tony. "Hey, what about misuse of police property? What'd he use to take the pictures, some police-issue Polaroid?" "Naw man, he had some fuckin' digital camera. I don't know why the hell he had that with him. Didn't look like anything he could'a got from the station... more like it was his own or... why the fuck did he have his own camera with him at work? And it was already in the car. What the fuck did he think he was gonna do with that - take pictures of people speeding? Idiot! He probably would try somethin' like that thinkin' it'd fast-track him to bein' captain or somethin'" Tony said. "Uh huh... so, uh, Tony, what did he do with the camera when you guys got back to the station? Did you see him download the pictures on to his computer or anything like that?" Pete asked. "No man, that asshole just got outta the car and... and... he didn't... fuck! I don't remember him opening up the glove compartment... he didn't take the camera with him. Holy shit, Pete, I think he forgot. I think that fuckin' camera is still in the cruiser!" "Grab your gym bag buddy. We're outta here!" Pete said. Tony and Pete practically ran back to the gym where Tony's car was parked. From there it took them less than ten minutes to get to the police station. Tony ran inside. "Hey Jones!" "Hey Martino, what are you doin' here? You're not workin' nights lately." "Naw man, I... I left something in the cruiser earlier." "Ah right. Must be something important for you to drag your ass all the way back here," Jones replied. "Yeah, yeah, it is. I was just a few block away though, so no big deal," Tony said as he headed towards the wall-mounted board from which all the car keys hung. "18...18... gotcha!" Tony ran back out and gestured to Pete towards cruiser 18. He unlocked the passenger door, practically dove into the car and popped open the glove compartment. "Bingo!" Tony shouted. "Ha ha ha, you dumbfuck, I got ya! No way are you blackmailing me Jason baby." Tony shouted. The elated young cop leapt out of the cruiser, camera in hand. He and Pete high-fived. "Looks like your buddy O'Reilly is prone to making a few mistakes," Pete laughed. Tony ran the keys back in and then rejoined Pete in the parking lot. "Hey buddy," Pete said, "I think this calls for a celebration. Wanna head over to my place for beer, maybe order in a pizza or somethin'?" "Damn Pete, I'm certainly ready for that, but I fuckin' have to get home. I'm gonna be in trouble for stayin' out this late as it is." "Oh yeah, I forgot..." Pete said. "Listen guy, we gotta do something about this shit you're in." "You're tellin' me!" Tony said letting out a sigh. "Listen," Pete said. "I've got an idea... at least one that might fix your little predicament with O'Reilly. You have to tell these other guys... what are their names?" "Tom and Rick." "Yeah, Tom and Rick... you have to tell them about this O'Reilly asshole." "WHAT! Fuck no... are you kiddin'? That would just get me in more trouble," Tony replied, surprised at this idea. "No Tony, I'm not kiddin'. Listen to me. I'd put money down that Rick and Tom are not going to take too kindly to another guy musclin' in on their territory." "No way, Pete, they'd have a field day with this. Anything they think is gonna make me squirm, they will fuckin' love!" "We'll get to your squirmin' later buddy," Pete laughed. "For right now, trust me. Even if they couldn't give a shit about O'Reilly messing up your promotion, if this guy is the kind of stud you say he is, Rick and Tom might be real interested in seein' what they can get out of him... you get me? Now, he's comin' over to your place tomorrow, right? So, the way I see it, your pals at home might think they can have themselves a good ol' time gettin video of you doin' a tongue job on O'Reilly. Meanwhile, this gives them somethin' on O'Reilly too, especially if you give them a little encouragement. You get O'Reilly in the same shit you are in and trust me, he ain't gonna be hassling you at work. You see what I mean Tony?" "Uh huh... uh huh. Yeah, I'm catchin' ya Pete. Man, I'd like to fix O'Reilly but good and this might just do the trick. Pete, you're a genius," Tony said. "You know it buddy, ha ha!" Pete laughed. Tony dropped Pete off at his own car parked back at the gym. "Tony," Pete said as he opened the car door to get out. "This guy who's been e-mailing you... what's his name?" "I don't know his name. The ID he uses is 'notredamefan'." "'Notredamefan' huh? Uh... let me help you out stud... I got a hunch that this guy is a whole lot nearer than you think." Pete winked at Tony. "Later dude." "Huh? Yeah, later Pete."