Max H. firstname.lastname@example.org
This story involves sex between guys. If you shouldn't be reading such things, move on.
The characters in this fantasy may not always practice safe sex. In the world we live in everyone should practice safe sex.
It's okay to print this story out or save it to disc, but it remains my property. Don't transfer it to another website or archive without my permission.
Thanks to TW for doing the beta reading here.
Lt. MacMillan of the Smithville Police Department was talking on the phone with Willie Jefferson, who had an insurance agency in town.
"Okay, Willie, if you say so. The kid does need an attitude adjustment, for sure, and his courses at the academy didn't help with social awareness, understanding of other ethnicities, and things like that."
"Yeah, I knew him in high school, remember? We can deal with him the same way we took care of Bingham. But this one will be real fun, Lieutenant."
"Well, like last time, you've got to promise not to really hurt him and, more important, don't do anything to embarrass the police department."
"And in return you'll cooperate, look the other way, be flexible about where he is?"
The lieutenant chuckled. "Yeah, I can manage that. Grant's not stupid, and he's pretty eager. If you can get rid of his strong tendency to be a bully, he just might make a good cop."
Jefferson laughed. "We'll start this afternoon."
"Keep me posted, okay?"
"Yeah, man, I'll do that."
That afternoon Officer Toby Grant was dispatched to the Jefferson Insurance Agency to check out a complaint just at the end of his shift. He was told he could go home after he'd checked out the problem. Smithville, like many smaller cities, allowed its police officers to take their cruisers home with them when they were off duty. It made citizens feel safer to see patrol cars parked in driveways in their neighborhood.
Toby was 6'2' tall, weighed 185 ponds. He had blue eyes and yellow-blond hair. He'd played quarterback on the Smithville High football team, but he hadn't been good enough to play for a respectable college. Since his grades weren't all that good either, he had opted to get an Associate of Arts degree in criminal justice at the local community college and then go to the police academy. So here he was, just barely 21, and a rookie cop. He knew he looked good in his uniform, and he swaggered a bit as he walked into Willie Jefferson's insurance office. He hadn't seen Jefferson often since they'd both graduated from high school. The two hadn't been friends. They'd come from different sides of the tracks, to use an expression Toby's grandmother had liked.
"What's up, Jefferson?" Toby asked, ignoring Willie's outstretched hand.
"Come on out back, and I'll show you."
"Graffiti in the alley, a dumpster problem, something like that?"
Willie chuckled. "Yeah, you might say it had something to do with trash."
When they went out the back door into the alleyway, Toby saw a group of young men standing around. Checking out his surroundings as he was taught at the academy, he noticed there was a car blocking the entrance to the alley at each end of the block.
He was immediately surrounded by the men, who'd obviously been waiting for him to appear with Willie. Two of the largest grabbed him and held him while a third handcuffed his wrists in front of him with his own handcuffs. Toby yelled and threatened, but to no avail. He was helpless.
Willie stood directly in front of Toby, and the others formed a circle around the two.
"Officer Grant," Willie said with heavy sarcasm, "before you can be a useful policeman in this town, you need to be re-educated."
"What the fuck does that mean? And who the fuck do you think you are to talk about my education? You fuckers are all in deep shit. You know that, don't you? I'll call the precinct and have you all arrested for assaulting a police officer and anything else we can think of to charge you with. You'd better let me go before you get into more shit."
"Officer, shame on you!" Willie laughed. "Such language. But we're calling the shots here, not you. So here's the deal. You're gonna listen to each of these men while they point out to you things you've done in the past that are not acceptable behavior from a police officer. You will listen and you will learn. We're gonna see to that."
Toby continued to curse and threaten. "You'd best shut your mouth, Officer Grant, or Frankie here can go into his dad's hardware store and get some duck tape to stick it shut. You want that?"
Toby shook his head no and wisely remained silent.
"All right then, gentlemen," Willie said, "Why don't you remind the officer of just what a prick he is."
In turn the men, all of whom were Toby's age and had known him in school, told about what a nasty, arrogant jerk he had been. They were all obviously still angry. Several of them had repeatedly been called faggots or pansies in front of their friends and girl friends. Two of them had been pantsed, one guy three times in the hallway of the high school. Frankie Malucci had repeatedly been called a wop and a dago by Toby, who had harassed others because they were in the camera club, the computer club, the drama club, the chorus, or the band, saying they were nerds or queers because they weren't jocks. Another told about how Toby had fucked his sister for two weeks and then dumped her, telling everyone that she was a slut. Another, Maynard Brown, said that he had overheard Toby referring to him and his friends as "niggers."
Toby started to reply when Maynard finished, but one of the guys holding him from behind reached between his legs and grabbed his nuts. "Not a word until you are allowed to speak, fucker, or you lose these."
Like most bullies, Toby wasn't really very brave, so he decided to be quiet. He didn't have to wait long to see what would happen next.
"These gentlemen have asked me to be in charge of your re-education, Officer Grant," Willie said, smiling. "Today we're all going to be involved in your first lesson." He nodded to the two men holding Toby.
Before the young cop knew what was happening to him, he found himself with his pants pulled down around his ankles. Jefferson had sat on an inverted garbage can, and Toby was stretched across Jefferson's lap. Willie grabbed Toby's tighty-whities and pulled, giving the young blond a wedgie. Then he began to spank the pale ass cheeks exposed when Toby's briefs wound up pulled tightly into his crack.
Toby let out a yell at the first slap, mostly from humiliation and outrage, but after a while the pain became so great that he began to plead with Jefferson to stop. Finally, further humiliated by his own weakness, he began to cry like a little boy. Soon his ass and face were both red, his faced contorted, tears streaming down it. At that point, a laughing Frankie Malucci pulled out a digital camera and took a couple of pictures.
When Willie finally quit whacking Toby's blistered ass, they showed him on the screen of the camera the pictures they had taken. Toby was appalled. His dark blue uniform shirt was very clearly that of a Smithville police officer, and even his uniform trousers were visible dangling from his flailing ankles. If Lt. MacMillan or any of his superiors at the precinct saw that picture, he was toast.
Trying to quit snuffling and recover some dignity, he said, "Okay, you guys. I guess I've been kind of a jerk sometimes. I'm sorry. But you aren't gonna show those pictures to anybody, are ya?"
"Here's the way it's gonna be, boy," Jefferson said. "You got two choices. Either we email these pictures to Lt. MacMillan, or else you do exactly what we tell you to."
"You aren't going to make me do anything criminal, are you?"
"Probably not. But we own you. We're gonna get on with your attitude adjustment training unless you want us to send those pictures to your lieutenant. So what's it gonna be?"
Toby took a deep breath, considering the options. He didn't want to be further humiliated by these guys, but even worse he didn't want to be in trouble with the lieutenant. He'd be kicked off the force if those pictures got into the loot's hands, for sure.
"Okay. I don't guess I've got any choice. What do you want me to do?"
"Oh, nothin' much," Willie said, grinning. "We'll be taking pictures to document your retraining, and we want to get one more while the whole group is here. Lie down."
"You're not that stupid, Grant. You heard me. Lie down. Just lie there. Don't move until I tell you you can get up. Got that, officer?"
Afraid even to pull up his pants, Toby lay down on his back, not wanting to leave his red ass exposed, especially as his briefs were stilled pulled tightly into his crack. The group gathered around him, making a kind of oval. Toby was horrified when all of them unzipped or unbuttoned and took out their cocks. They proceeded to have a circle jerk. One skinny guy whose name Toby couldn't even remember had the longest dong Toby had ever seen. With a wicked gleam in his eye, he pumped his hard pole. They didn't all come at the same time of course, so Jefferson was telling them where to shoot their jizm it.
"Aim for his face and hair. Somebody get some nice big strings of splooge on his shirt. That'll show up good."
Toby squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to puke at the thought of having the cum of twelve guys on him.
"Open your eyes, boy!"
Toby forced himself to open his eyes, still fighting the urge to barf.
It seemed an eternity, but within ten minutes, every one of the men in the circle had shot his load onto the young policeman. Willie, the last to cum, bent his knees slightly and aimed his big load onto the front of Toby's jockeys. Then Bruce took pictures from several angles, sometimes zooming in close, sometimes getting full length shots.
"Thanks," Willie said to the others, who packed their equipment back into their pants. The late afternoon air smelled strongly of cum.
Willie unlocked the handcuffs and handed them and the key to the young officer.
"You can get yourself back together now. But while you're doin' that, listen to me, boy."
"You gotta realize that you ain't the cock of the walk. You're just a swell-headed mother-fucker. Your shit smells like anybody else's. And until you know that, until you really know that deep down inside, you ain't gonna be of any use as a policeman in this town. We've got the pictures of you getting your ass spanked and wailing like a little baby and of you and your city uniform covered with the spunk of twelve men. I promise you won't get in trouble over these pictures," he grinned at the others, "if you complete your training."
"Can I ask a question?"
"How long will this `training' last?"
"As long as we want it to. Until we think you've figured out how unimportant you are. Until we think you might be a good cop, doin' somethin' useful in the community. So, Officer Grant, what's it gonna be?"
"What choice do I have?" Willie asked with a hint of his usual abrasiveness.
"Watch it! You'd best not be pitchin' attitude around here. Just answer the question."
"Okay, okay! You got me. I'll do whatever you say, just don't let anybody see those pictures."
"You realize that we'll be taking more as your training goes on? You'll have quite a photo album by the time you're finished." He chuckled. "Maybe we can put it on a cd for you to show your kids some day."
Toby was shaking with anger and humiliation.
"You can go home now, but you can't go through my office looking like that. You'll have to go down the alley and around."
Toby could never have imagined being so humiliated. Things had always gone pretty much his way, and here he was, with cum all over his face and in his hair and down the front of his shirt. And he felt the now-cold, sticky place on the front of his briefs where Jefferson had shot his load. That was the most disgusting part for Toby. Another guy's spooge was soaked through his underwear and getting onto his cock and balls and pubes. Again, he wanted to hurl.
Worse, though, was the fact that he risked being seen as he ran down the alley, and around two corners. He unlocked and jumped into his cruiser, started it up, and peeled away toward the little house he was renting.
He was only a block or so from the scene of his degradation when he stopped for a traffic light. There, across the intersection from him, was Lt. MacMillan in his unmarked police car. Toby was nervous enough from his ordeal already, but seeing the lieutenant made his palms begin to sweat on the steering wheel. He couldn't disguise who he was. After all, he was sitting there in a numbered patrol car. But he did try to turn his head to the right as he pulled through the intersection, hoping desperately that the lieutenant couldn't see the cum drying on his face, shirt, and hair.
As soon as he got home, he ran to the bathroom, where he stripped off all his clothes and took a very long, hot shower, trying to wash all the cum and perhaps the memories of the experience away.
"I'm fucked," he said to himself later as he sat in his living room having a beer. "I'm really fucked." Try as he might, he could think of no way to avoid the rest of what Willie Jefferson had referred to as his "retraining."
The next day he heard nothing from Jefferson or the others. Lt. MacMillan seemed not to have noticed anything when they saw each other from their cars the previous afternoon. Toby worried all day, waiting for the axe to fall, for any sort of summons from his tormentors, as he saw them. He fumed that they'd dared to do what they'd done to him. He wasn't such a bad guy, he thought. He couldn't understand why they were so pissed off at him. And he was a cop, too. Where'd they get the balls to humiliate a cop? He wanted in the worst way to tell his superiors what they'd done, but he would have died of shame to have to tell the lieutenant about getting himself into a situation where he was overpowered, not to mention the spanking and the circle jerk. It would have been even worse if the lieutenant ever saw those pics.
So he went through the motions of doing his duty that day, his mind rehashing the previous day's episode, wondering when he'd hear from them again.
It was three days after the first episode when Toby got the call. By that time, he'd practically convinced himself that it was all a bad joke or something and that he wouldn't hear any more from Jefferson and the others. He was wrong.
Dispatch came over the radio in his patrol car and gave him a phone number to call. He thought it was unusual that she'd relay a personal call, but he used his cell to call the number.
"Uh, this is Officer Grant. Someone there wanted me to call?"
"Well, Officer Grant! Nice of you to call back. This is your wop, dago friend, Frankie. It's time for another training session."
"Look, are you sure you . . ."
"Shut the fuck up, Grant, and just listen."
Toby, whose mouth suddenly was very dry, said "Okay, I'm listening."
"Be at your house at 9:00 this evening. Leave the front door unlocked. Oh, yeah," Frankie chuckled, "and be naked on your knees inside the door when we get there."
Toby almost objected, but then he figured it wouldn't do any good. He had to do what these bastards wanted.
When he got home that evening, he put a frozen pot pie in the oven, but when it was ready he was too jittery to eat it. He decided what he needed was a beer.
He got out of his uniform and hung it up so it would stay neat. Then he pulled on a pair of jeans. After all, he'd be getting undressed later anyway. He clicked on the tv, but he couldn't concentrate on it. He kept wondering how his life, which had been going along pretty well, was now being fucked up by Willie Jefferson and his friends. They were a bunch of goddammed losers. So how come they had him in such a bind? He had another beer while he thought about that.
Before he knew it, it was 8:50. "Fuck!" he said. "They'll be here in ten minutes." He made sure the front door was unlocked and checked that the curtains in the living room were drawn. He didn't want his neighbors to see him naked. Then, as he had been ordered, he stripped off his Levis, threw them behind the sofa, and knelt where he could be seen when Frankie got there.
At about five past nine, Toby heard a car pull up to the curb out front. Then two doors slammed. A minute later, his front door opened and two men came in.
"Ohmygod, Maynard, just look at that! There's Big Man on Campus, Toby Grant. He's naked. And he's on his fuckin' knees!"
A slow smile spread over the face of Maynard Brown, 6'4" and 225 pounds. "Cool!"
"So, Grant," Frankie said, "you don't look like such a hotshot now, do you?"
Toby glared at him but didn't say anything.
"Come on, you arrogant bastard, say something! How does it feel to be naked and kneeling down in front of a wop and a nigger?"
"Look, Frankie, I'm – "
"Shaddup. We don't wanna hear it. Go get a glass of water and come back here."
By the time Toby, blushing all over as blonds sometimes do, keenly aware of his cock swinging back and forth as he walked, went to the kitchen and came back with a glass of water, Malucci and Brown had sat down in Toby's small living room.
"You got the stuff?" Frankie asked Maynard.
"Sure do." Maynard reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a piece of folded up Kleenex. He unwrapped it and held a blue pill in his hand. He handed the pill to Toby. "Take this."
"Hey, guys, what is this? It won't kill me, will it?"
Frankie grinned at Maynard, who grinned back, evilly.
"No, it might even make you happy. Now, take it!"
Toby took the pill, put it in his mouth, and washed it down with some of the water.
"Okay, good. Now, let's go to your bathroom."
Toby looked sick, not from the pill, but from the idea of having these two males with him in his bathroom. When they got there, Frankie, who seemed to be the spokesman of the pair, said, "Listen, motherfucker, here's the deal. You are gonna shave your pubes, your cock, your balls, and your ass. Got it?"
"Aw, come on, Frankie! How can I do that? I've gotta change and sometimes shower at the precinct station. What would I tell the other guys?"
"That's your problem! Now, you got an electric razor?"
"Well, start with that. Remember, pubes, cock, balls and ass."
"Could I have some privacy while I do that, please?"
"No way. Now that you mention it, we're all a little crowded here in your john. Bring your razor out into the living room."
Razor in hand, Toby followed Maynard and Frankie back to the living room.
"Okay, now get busy."
When he had used the beard trimmer attachment of his razor to clip off most of his pubes, Toby then began to use the razor on the rest. Then he did his cock and was embarrassed when it began to get hard as he worked on it. By the time he had all the hair removed from his balls, he was sporting a real boner.
Getting his ass crack clean of hair was a bit of problem. You really need someone to hold your ass cheeks apart to do that, and, of course, Toby only had two hands.
"Uh, could one of you guys help here?"
Maynard chuckled. "No way, man. I ain't puttin' my hands on your white ass."
"Aw, fuck," Frankie said. He squatted behind Toby and pulled his buttocks apart, being careful to keep his hands as far as possible from Toby's crack.
When that chore was done, Toby put the razor on the coffee table and turned to face the other two men. His cock was fully hard, pointing at an angle toward the ceiling. He didn't know why he was stiff, and he blushed again to be seen that way by Malucci and Brown.
Maynard elbowed Frankie, chuckled, and said, "Hey, man. That stuff must have done its job."
Frankie grinned. "Nah, I think maybe Officer Grant here is just happy to see us. After all, he was always calling other guys fags and stuff. Maybe that was just his way of covering up the fact that he's gay. You suppose?"
Maynard chuckled. "Could be, man, could be."
Toby, meanwhile, wanted to sink through the floor. He was embarrassed, not turned on, by being naked and shaven in front of these two relative strangers. But his cock was hot, hard, and throbbing.
"Looks like a Kodak moment to me," Frankie said, reaching into one of the pockets of his cargo shorts. He pulled out a digital camera.
"Okay, Grant, say `cheese'." He took a full frontal picture of Toby. "Now, turn around, bend over, and pull your ass cheeks apart. We want to see how clean you've gotten them."
"You don't really -- "
"Yeah, mufuck," Maynard said, "we do. Now, turn around and spread `em."
Blushing profusely again, Toby did as he was told. He was beginning to wonder when these degradations would stop. But try as he would, he couldn't think of any way to escape from the "training program" Jefferson and his friends had thought up.
"Now," Frankie said. "Next step in showing this arrogant bastard just how worthless he is. Let's get some evidence that he's the cocksucker, not the guys he called that in high school."
Maynard looked at Frankie and said, "Do I gotta?"
Frankie grinned. "No, dude, you don't gotta. But your face won't show in the picture. Just your dick. And I've always heard with you guys it's nothing to be ashamed of, right?"
Maynard grinned. "You're sure my face won't show?"
"Ya got my word, bro. Now, drop `em."
Maynard unfastened the buttons on his jeans and let them fall around his ankles. He was freeballing, so immediately he was naked from the waist down. A big cut cock draped out and over equally huge balls. Even limp his tool must have been 6" long.
Toby was sweating by this time, not knowing exactly what was in store for him. He couldn't believe they were going to make him suck Brown's big cock. He'd never in his life done anything like that. He'd never even played around with a friend when he was going through puberty. He was straight, after all.
"Okay, `Officer Grant'," Frankie said, "kneel in front of Maynard here so I can get a picture."
"Frankie, please, don't make me suck him. I'm not like that, man. I'm not a fag."
"Don't matter, man. We're gonna get the picture anyway. But, look, somethin' for you to remember. Most of the guys you kept calling queer or fags or pansies in high school weren't gay either. So what goes around comes around. Besides, look at your hard cock. I'm surprised, by the way, it isn't bigger. The way you acted in high school, everybody thought you must have been packin' at least ten inches."
Toby glanced down at his hard seven inches and wished it wasn't hard just at that moment.
"Now, man, like I said, kneel! Get right in front of Maynard and open your mouth. Open your mouth and stick your tongue out like you were gonna swallow his cock."
Maynard was just standing there, hands on hips, waiting. His dick wasn't hard, but it was big enough as it was.
Giving Frankie one last, desperate look to make sure he wasn't kidding around, Toby sank to his knees and knee-walked up to Maynard. He shut his eyes and stuck out his tongue.
"No, no, stupid. You're too far away, and you gotta keep your eyes open. I've always thought you were probably a queer because you made such a big deal out of other guys being gay. But right now, even if you're straight, you gotta do an acting job. It ain't what you want that matters here. You don't count for nothin', got it? So act like you want to swallow Maynard's cock. Play to the camera. Stick out our tongue and look all anxious!"
When he got close enough, Toby could smell Maynard's scent. It was like locker rooms, only it was much stronger and right in front of his nose. He wanted to puke, but he also felt a little dizzy. Remembering to keep his eyes open, he opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue.
"That's good," Frankie said. "Now, just lick it a little."
"Hey, Malucci," Maynard said. "That's too queer, man. I didn't say I'd let him do that."
"Aw, come on. It won't hurt. It'll feel good. Just imagine, bro. You've got this guy who's humiliated you bigtime right here ready to lick your cock. You gonna turn that down? Think how long you've waited for this moment."
Maynard grinned. "Yeah, well, I suppose it can't hurt."
"You heard the man," Frankie said. He fished the camera out of the big pocket in his cargoes. "Now, grab his cock and just put the tip of your tongue under its head. You don't have to swallow it. After all, no one here is gay, right? We just want a picture of you where it looks like you're about to swallow Maynard."
Feeling sick inside, Toby nevertheless scooted a little closer. Squinting his eyes shut, he took Maynard's big cock in his hand, stuck out his tongue, and leaned forward until he felt it. The taste wasn't bad at all. A little salty, maybe. It was the idea more than the reality than made him want to vomit. But there was nothing in his stomach to hurl.
There was a click and a flash. "One more," Frankie said, "and this time I want to see those blue eyes open!" He went around to the other side and took another picture. Then he showed the two snaps he'd taken to Maynard and Toby. Both showed Toby apparently about to take a big black cock in his mouth, but they didn't show Maynard's face.
"Okay, Grant. That's all for this evenin'. Just remember. When you hear from us again, whenever that is, we've got the pix we took the other day plus these. So you'd better answer the next call promptly."
"Can I ask a question?" Toby said.
"I like it that you're being respectful, boy. Yeah. Ask your question."
"What was this all about? And what was in that pill?"
"That's two questions, but okay. First, you ARE gonna learn that you don't count for shit. You will do anything, and I mean anything, that we tell you to do. It doesn't matter what you want. Your `dignity' don't mean diddly with us. Your reputation don't mean nothin' either. You will do what we tell ya. That clear?"
Toby rolled his eyes and said, "Yeah."
"Watch the attitude, boy, or maybe we'll make you actually suck Maynard's dick."
Maynard looked askance at Frankie's remark, but he didn't say anything.
"Second question. What was in the pill? Look at that boner, man. That's quite a stiffie. Are you gay? Is being here with us turning you on? Have you been queer all along? Is that why you got such a charge out of calling everybody who wasn't like you a fag or a pansy?"
"No, man, I don't think so."
Frankie grinned. "Well, then maybe it's the Viagra in the blue pill we gave you that has you all boned up. But it don't matter, man. Anybody who sees the pics'll be sure you're a hungry cocksucker."
"So if you don't want Lt. MacMillan and the rest of the cops at the precinct to see those pics, you'd better show up right on time, dude, whenever you get the word. Got that?"
Toby stood there, cock pointing toward the ceiling, eyes downcast. "Yeah, I got it."
Frankie grinned. "Good!" He slapped Toby's bare ass. "Come on, Maynard, let's go. I imagine our boy here needs to beat his meat."
Maynard chuckled as he and Frankie left.
Toby was resolved not to do as Frankie had suggested. He wasn't gay. Nothing that had happened that evening had turned him on. It was just that little blue pill that had given him his aching hardon. But he couldn't make himself pull his jeans back on. He just couldn't help himself.
He sat on the sofa, put his big, bare feet on the coffee table and began to stroke his cock with one hand, tweaking a nipple with the other.
To be continued