Date: Fri, 20 Jan 2006 03:39:45 -0800 (PST)
From: Reflex <reflex012004@yahoo.com>
Subject: Trapped Muscle-Cop Part 16 {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 16
By Reflex (reflex012004@yahoo.com)
Copyright 2006

Part 16: Scratching an Itch

Pete Dubrowski never mentioned it, but that night at the bar when Tony
filled him in on the devilish trap he'd got himself into, he returned home
and went straight to the internet, looking for the website he had been told
about.  Finding it, Pete whipped out his credit card, joined, and spent the
rest of the evening downloading every picture, video-clip, and the random
journal entries.  These last seemed to have been written with the worst
grammar and spelling Pete had seen in some time.  "What did this guy do
back when he was in school?" Pete wondered.  "Played sports and worked on
his muscles, that's what he did," Pete said to himself.  "Not much else, I
bet.  Just sports and muscles... good boy."

Pete liked what he had seen.  He jerked off a lot to the video.  He'd
printed out some of the photos and jerked off to them too.  Few of the
printouts lasted more than a night as Pete usually aimed his large pecker
straight at the image of Tony's handsome face, coating it with the massive
wads his hefty balls always seemed to spew forth.

The big, built, thirty-year-old was looking forward to Friday.  He wasn't
sure what was going to happen, but he was determined to pry Tony from the
grip of the two guys that had him trapped.  And anyway, after the gruelling
weeks he was having lately getting that high-rise office tower built
downtown, he liked to enjoy his weekends.

***************

Friday morning saw Tony in a better than average mood.  He was anxious
about what exactly was going to happen when he returned to the house later
with Pete, but he also felt a sense of elation in the idea that maybe, just
maybe he would soon regain his freedom.  He strutted into the station like
he owned the place, feeling like he was nearly back in control of himself.
Sure he'd had to shine a few shoes yesterday, but, well, fuck, so what if
he sprung that boner.  He was always getting a hard-on.  Hell, it was
practically his responsibility as a stud to show the other guys what kind
of meat he was packing!  Tony pondered this as he walked to his desk, but
then he got distracted thinking about his new uniform... so tight... it
really hugged his body and showed off his chest.  He liked the way the
clothes made him acutely aware of every square inch of his muscular frame.
The feel of the material practically plastered to his skin in the humid air
made him horny.  He found it impossible to stop thinking about himself.
"Damn I'm good-looking," he mused.  He had noticed a lot of people staring
at him yesterday.  He'd walked past two guys leaning against a parked car.
Tony felt like they had looked through his clothes.  The two guys seemed to
be about his age, well-built, kind of rough looking.  Don't they have a job
to go to, he had wondered.  Maybe they were up to no good!  He thought he'd
tease them a bit, intimidate them with his swaggering authority, make sure
these two punks weren't just loitering around, er.... wasting
public... uh... space.  It turned out they were just waiting for a
friend... helping some buddy of theirs' move.  They pointed to the stack of
empty cardboard boxes in the back seat of the car along with a pile of
dirty nylon straps for securing things in place on the roof or in the
trunk.  Tony's eyes had lingered on that pile.  One of the guys reached
through the rolled down window and pulled one of the straps out.  He ran
his hands along it as he looked at Tony.  The jerk stood up straight like
he was going to lasso Tony with that strap.  The dark-haired cop felt sweat
drip from his pits.  He wondered what it would feel like to have that strap
cinched tighter and tighter around his arms and chest.  What would these
guys do to him if they had him all securely fastened?  Tony unconsciously
ran his hand across his exposed hairy chest.  "Nice pecs you got, cop," one
of the guys had said.  "That's not all that's pokin' out that uniform,"
said the guy with the strap.  Tony looked down at the mound below his belt.
He cleared his throat, "All right guys, don't just... maybe you
should... that's a real strong looking strap... uh... hey, go help your
buddy.  Don't just hang around here."  The guy with the strap stepped up
and rubbed the strong nylon material across Tony's bicep.  Tony flexed his
muscle.  "You like that?" the guy said.  Tony's face turned red.  He
haltingly wished the two guys good luck with their move and walked on.  For
the rest of the afternoon he noticed men and women looking at his crotch.
As far as Tony was concerned, the only problem with this uniform was that
it made the slightest excitement down there immediately visible.  He
wondered if that might get him in trouble somehow, but decided that was
less important than people noticing that he was "all man."  "Fuck yeah!" he
had said to himself.

Tony sat down at his desk.  No one looking at him this morning would have
guessed that just a short while earlier he had been on his knees, sucking
off two guys, one after the other, his face and body getting sprayed with
their loads while he jerked himself to a simultaneous climax.  Then again,
that might be exactly what someone guessed as they watched Tony admire his
own body and feel himself up in that uniform.  If Tony didn't look like
someone who already had been on his knees sucking dick, his attention to
himself certainly encouraged a few guys on the street to look upon him as
someone who SHOULD be on his knees with a cock shoved in his mouth.  Tony
had no idea people thought such things when they looked at him.  If he'd
known, it would have kicked his balls into overdrive.




Jason wasn't at his desk. That was unusual.  He was always in before Tony.
He shouted over to Porter: "Hey, John, you seen O'Reilly anywhere?  We've
gotta head out soon."

"Yeah," Porter said looking over at Jason's desk.  "Well, he was around a
minute ago.  He's here somewhere."

"Over here," said Mitch Henderson.

"Where?" asked Tony, standing up from his own desk.

"Here," Henderson repeated, pointing down.

"Fuck, did you have to broadcast it, Mitch?" said Jason.  The hunky Irish
cop was on his knees with the shoe brush, quickly putting the finishing
touches to Henderson's newly polished shoes.

"Oh," Tony said quietly.  "Well, uh, we gotta get goin'."  Tony wanted out
of the precinct station before somebody snapped their fingers in his
direction.  In fact, Henderson was the only cop who hadn't had his shoes
polished the day before.  Nobody else needed them done again so soon,
although, truth-be-told, Jason and Tony's humiliating penalty had boosted
morale at the station.  No one could explain it, even less did they want to
talk about it, but the sight of Tony or Jason kneeling at their feet, using
those muscular arms to improve the appearance of another guy, brought
smiles to everyone's faces... and a little twitching in a few guys'
underpants.

"Thanks boy.  That'll do," said Henderson, teasingly patting Jason on the
head.  Henderson was a big bear of a guy, fond of his beer and a bit of a
slob.  He always seemed to have a stain or two on his shirt or trousers
from the messy jam doughnuts he woofed down with his morning coffee.  The
other guys wondered if he put gel in his thick dark-brown hair or if he
simply never washed it.  Everyone feared it was the latter as Mitch always
seemed to smell a bit.  Watching a clean-cut muscle-stud like O'Reilly
forced to attend to his size-thirteen shoes, brought a noticeable sparkle
to Henderson's eyes.

"Don't get carried away, Henderson," said Jason.

"Hey, just thankin' ya," said Mitch, this time patting Jason on the cheek.
"Here, you want a jam doughnut?"

"No thanks," Jason quickly replied.

"Come'on take it anyway.  You might want it later," Mitch said with a
smile.  He reached down and unsnapped the flap over the pocket on the right
side of Jason's shirt.  Jason, still kneeling, with his back up straight,
watched Mitch shove the doghnut into the shirt pocket.  Mitch leaned over
to close the flap, snapping it back in place.  He kept the palm of his hand
on the doughnut and pushed.  Raspberry jam spurted out, making a sticky
sweet-smelling mess on the right panel of Jason's shirt.

"Aw fuck, man..." Jason whimpered.

Mitch smiled.  His fingers were lightly coated with the sticky gelatinous
goop.  He reached over and wiped them on Jason's hairy chest.  Jason looked
up stunned.

"Nice uniform you got there O'Reilly.  Too bad ya can't get it buttoned all
the way up," Mitch said with barely disguised glee.

Jason frowned, got up, and headed back towards his desk.  He kept the box
with the shoe-shine equipment right in front of his crotch.  "I'm coming
Martino.  Be with ya in a sec.  Just gotta run to the Gents...."




The two partners cruised the morning streets in silence.  Tony didn't want
to provoke another brawl while they were on patrol, but after a while he
thought Jason seemed like he might be nudged into a little conversation.

"Another quiet day in Gotham City," Tony said with a friendly chirp.

"Yup... that it is, Boy Wonder."

"Hey, I'm drivin', so I'm Batman, ha ha."

Jason laughed back.  "Okay, I suppose you have had more experience sliding
up and down the Bat-poles!"

Tony smirked.  "You fucker."

"Fuck you, heh heh," Jason chortled.

"Hey, what're you doing with your feet?  It's like you're grindin' 'em into
the floor or something." Tony asked.

"I've got an itch."

"On both feet?"

"Yeah.  I don't know what it is, but my feet are itchin' like crazy.  It's
making me nuts, actually," Jason said.  The muscles in his legs tensed and
released repeatedly as he ground his feet in his shoes.  "I gotta take off
my shoes and scratch 'em dude."

A minute later and Tony let out a "phwaaaww!"

"Hey, shut-up, man," Jason said.  "The Colonel makes me wear the same
fuckin' pair of socks all week long."

Tony smiled.

"You want to get down there and sniff 'em stud?" Jason asked with a grin.
"No," Tony said a tad defensively.

Jason brought his left foot up and scratched with his fingers.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhh... oh that's better... oh yeah... much better... whoa, huh,
ha...ohhhhhh."  He was having a slightly difficult time of it as the act of
scratching was also sending ticklish shocks to his big sweaty feet.  "Man,
itchy feet suck!  Tryin' to scratch 'em just causes me to tickle
myself... ooohhhh... ha!"

"Uh, maybe you'd like me to do it for ya, Jase?" Tony asked.

"Yeah, right.  You think I'm letting you at my feet?  No way, pal," Jason
said.  "And anyway, how would that solve the problem?  They'd be just as
ticklish with you scratching them."

"Well, yeah, but... but you're havin' a hard time scratchin' yourself
because of the tickle, right?"

"Yeah, so..."

"Well, it wouldn't bother me, so I could really scratch 'em good... get
that itch out," Tony said.

"Uh huh... and I'd be laughing my head off in ticklish agony.  I'm not sure
I like your idea, Tony," Jason replied smiling.

"Sure you'd laugh, but it'd be over before ya knew it... and you would have
pumped your body full of oxygen AND got rid of the itch.  At least, that's
the way I see it," Tony argued.

"Humph... maybe....  All right, pull over somewhere."

Five minutes later and Tony had found a quiet-looking parking lot.

"Okay... uh, maybe we'd better get in back so you can stretch your legs,"
Tony said.

Both guys pulled themselves out of the patrol car looking like they were on
routine business and then, after they had checked that no one was around,
quickly jumped into the backseat.  Jason took off hid shoes again.

"Put your legs out, across my lap... yeah... okay," Tony instructed.

Tony grabbed hold of one of Jason's ankles with his right hand and started
massaging the smelly-socked foot with his left hand.  Jason was breathing
heavily.  After a few minutes he said, "Thanks for the massage buddy, but
it's not getting rid of the itch."

"Hang on," Tony said.  He took the fingers of his left hand and started
scratching vigorously.

"WHAAAAA HAAA HAAA HAAA HAAAAAA!!!  SHIT THAT TICKLES!"

Jason instinctively pulled his feet from Tony's grasp.

"Hey, you pull your feet away, we're not gonna get anywhere."  Tony reached
over and grabbed the ankles again, this time locking them in the crook of
his arm, forcing Jason to recline on his side.  He resumed scratching.

"BWAAAH HA HA HA... HO HO HO... HA HA... STOP... OH SHIT... SSTTTOPP!"

Tony was laughing now too.  "Look, we gotta do this... it's the only way!"

"OH MAN OH MAN... OH IT FUCKIN' TICKLES!" Jason said trying to jerk his
feet out from Tony's arm-lock.

Tony stopped again.  "Yeah it tickles, but how's the itch?"

"Uh... uh... it's better... a little better... shit!"

Tony went back to scratching.  Jason resumed howling.

"Jason, you're making one hell of a racket, man."

"I... I... CAN'T HELPPP... ITTT... HA HA HA HA HA!"

Tony pulled the socks off Jason's feet.

"Wha... what are you doin', man?" Jason asked in a winded voice.

Tony let go of the feet, put them in his lap and reached over with the
socks in his right hand.  "Sit still," he said grinning.  "We gotta muffle
your yelps, dude."

Jason looked at the foul approaching socks.  "No... hey, Tony...no, not
that, not thammmpphhh."

Jason's arms were free to swat Tony's hands away, but instead he just lay
there looking at Tony as the hot hunky cop used two fingers to slowly and
gently push the dirty socks into Jason's mouth.  Jason whimpered and then
groaned.

"Hoooooommmmmppphhhh..."

"Yeah, that's lookin' good," Tony said as his fingers kept pushing more and
more of the socks between Jason's lips.

Jason couldn't help himself.  He reached down with his left arm and tugged
at his crotch.

"Hey, hee hee, get your hand off your dick.  Here, put your arms behind
your back."

Jason looked worried.  He knew what was coming, but he did it anyway.  Tony
pulled out his handcuffs and locked them around Jason's wrists.

"There, cuffed and gagged, heh heh.  Let's get back to the business at
hand."

Tony again put Jason's feet in an arm-lock and started lightly scratching
the denuded soles.  Jason went ballistic.  His feet were frantically
scrabbling, his eyes rolled back in his head, his fists clenched tight.  He
laughed, groaned, and gagged into the cruddy socks packed into his mouth.
Tony was loving wrestling with his partners muscular kicking legs and
tickling the shit out of his feet.  He was eating up the hilarious
expressions on Jason's face and liked hearing his hunky partner laugh
uncontrollably.  That was really all Tony had imagined doing, but after ten
or fifteen minutes he asked Jason if he had had enough.  Jason nodded,
breathing heavily through his nose.  Sweat was dampening his forehead.
Tony could see wet stains in Jason's armpits.  He also noticed that Jason
seemed to be about half hard.  Tony set Jason's feet down in his lap,
noticing that his own constricted cock had plumped up considerably.  He
reached over with his right hand and lightly scratched the tip of Jason's
cockhead through his trousers.  Jason looked down and then looked up at
Tony.

"We got rid of one itch, might as well make sure you are completely itch
free, dude," he said grinning.

Jason grunted and squirmed a little in the seat.  He could have kicked
Tony, but he didn't.  Rather, the good-looking muscle-stud lay there
letting himself be made to suffer... exquisitely.

Tony kept scratching the increasingly bloated cockhead.  When it swelled up
more he started gently squeezing it.  The squeezing got harder and harder.
Using his thumb and index finger, he traced Jason's stiffening shaft
through the trousers - back and forth and back and forth.  He pushed down
on Jason's crotch, mashing the cock into the stud's hairy bull balls, so
unforgivingly confined in the tight uniform.  Tony did this several times,
then tugged loosely on the shaft before returning to squeezing and
scratching the spongy dick tip.  After fifteen minutes, Jason was in sweet
agony.

"Pweeeze wet me kum..." Jason pleaded, his words muffled by the gag.

"You wanna cum buddy?  You wanna squirt your hot stud load?  I betcha do!
It's gonna feel real good, ain't it?  All that Irish cream blasting out
into your pants..."

"Nomph... nottt my phants... pweeeze... twake it owwtt..."

"Uh uh.  You wanna cum, you're gonna do it in your pants, Jason."

"Naaaww phhsiiiittt..."

Tony kept squeezing and scratching, squeezing and scratching....
"UNNNGGGHHH... unnngghhhh... ooohhhhhhh... aaaawwwww... nnnooooohhh...,"
Jason grunted and sighed as thick gooey slugs of his jealously guarded cop
juice unloaded into his briefs and trousers.

Tony reached over and pulled the socks out of Jason's mouth.

"Aw dude, my pants... ohhh that feels nasty down there... shit..."

After a couple minutes to recover, Jason took his legs out of Tony's lap
and tried to sit up.

"Wait a minute... let me get these cuffs off ya," Tony said.

Jason sat up and rubbed his wrists.  "Phew... thanks man.  I... I think the
itch is gone."

Tony laughed and put his hand out to shake Jason's.  While the two were
shaking hands, Jason grabbed the cuffs with his left hand and rapidly
clapped one ring around Tony's right wrist before Tony could pull it away.

"HEY!" Tony yelped.  Jason now twisted Tony's right arm behind his back,
bending the surprised cop's torso forward.  Quickly, Jason grabbed the left
wrist and within seconds had that locked into the other cuff.  He let Tony
sit up straight.

"What the shit'd you cuff me for dude?  I haven't got itchy feet," Tony
protested.  "No, that's true, dude, you don't.  But you do have a problem
and I'm going to help you with it."

Jason reached down into Tony's lap and cupped his big balls through the
trousers.  He flicked them a couple of times.

"Ow... ow, ow... stop that!"

Jason took his index finger and started scratching Tony's own balooning
dick knob.

"Oh no... no no no, you wouldn't... aw man... you're not gonna tease and
tickle my big cock are ya?  No, man.  Shit, you're gonna get me all worked
up and make me cream my own trousers.  Awww, duuuude, you're gonna get me
aren't ya... your' gonna fix me up and make me mess my pants... just like I
did to you, shheee-iiittt."

"Heh heh heh... hey, the way I hear it, Italians are real fond of a nice
rich sauce.  Huh?  Isn't that right big guy?" Jason teased.

"Y...yes... ohhhhh... we... like... sauce... lots of it... aaahhhhhh.
Ya...you... you're not gonna... ooohhh... scoop it outta my trousers
and... yeeaaahhhhhhhh... make me... uh uh... eat it are ya?"

"Hmph..."  Jason got a devilish smile on his lips and a sparkle in his
hazel eyes.  "We wouldn't want it to go to waste now, would we?  Huh Tony?
Huh pizza boy?"

Tony wrestled a bit with the cuffs behind his back, but his meaty thighs
involuntarily spread open wider, giving Jason greater access to the sauce
production units.  Jason kept the fingers of his right hand working on
Tony's cock.  He put his full left hand on Tony's manly hairy chest and
softly rubbed, brushing the dense carpet of hormone-triggering
follicles. As he played with the hair and kneaded the pec muscles his
fingers moved closer and closer to Tony's stiff juicy man-tits.

"You dog, takin' possession of my hairy muscle-cop chest... and you're
goin' right for those big nubs on the crest of my pec ridge aren't ya?  Aw
geeze, and this fuckin's tight wide-open shirt makes it real easy for
ya... shit.  And there's not a damn thing I can do about it... ooohhhh
maaaann..."

Jason loved the way Tony often seemed to participate in his own duping and
entrapment.  Not that Jason himself would lie still and take it while some
other guy turned him into a dick-slut.  No sir.

"Yeah, these new shirts come in handy, Tony, real handy... and if we
weren't in such a cramped space, I'd be feeding you a fresh slug of my
cream to wash down your own goopy dick-slop.  Now there's just one more
thing..."

Tony gulped. "The socks?"

"Right you are pal, right you are..."

Tony grunted, flexed his cuffed arms and quietly opened his mouth.  Jason
noticed that the squirming stud-cop's dick jolted forward another inch or
so.  He took his hand off it, picked up the socks, and brought them to
Tony's nose.  Tony inhaled without being asked.  After Tony had taken a
couple of good long sniffs, causing his cock to vibrate, Jason gently
pushed the socks in the open mouth, locking eyes with Tony as he did
so... watching the hunky cop submit.  When he finished stuffing Tony's
mouth, he moved his right hand back to Tony's cock.  The thumb and finger
of his left hand began pinching Tony's left nipple.

"Unnnggh."

"Okay, Martino, you just lean back and relax while I get you all fired up
and force you to make a hot steamy mess in your pants.  That's it
dude... say goodbye to those nice clean briefs, heh heh heh."


***************


At zero-seventeen-hundred sharp, Colonel Dudley was waiting in his Jeep
Cherokee at the police station parking lot.  He'd sold Jason's car and was
here to pick the cop up from work.  After a week of controlling Jason,
Dudley was a happy man.  He wasn't a bad-looking fellow - high cheekbones,
a prominent nose.  There was something slightly disturbing about his
exceptionally broad mouth, like it had gone places most mouths don't go.
Some women found him rather dashing in a mysterious and possibly dangerous
way.  His neatly cut hair, the perfectly groomed handlebar moustache, and
dark twinkling eyes set atop a trim but solid body, gave him an
occasionally rakish appearance.  His fellow army men saw in him an engaging
spirit of adventure that appealed to their sense of youthful manly
excitement.  "Stroker" had a way of twitching his moustache as he told his
tales of mischief and thrill-seeking that caused more than one hostess to
spill her... wine.  But if Dudley sometimes seemed like a captivating
sexual predator, no rumours could ever be proven.  To all appearances, he
disdained brothels and would sooner die than sacrifice a woman's good name.
No one ever thought to look for the trail of alpha-studs he tricked, roped,
stripped, and turned out across the globe.  Dudley had been careful to keep
his personal interests separate from his professional life.  But now,
having reached his fifties, and permanently settled in his current military
posting, Dudley had the time and the means to indulge his desire for a
household pet.  No purring domesticated animal would do.  The Colonel
wanted a bucking stallion to slowly and craftily tame.  In Jason O'Reilly
he found exactly what he was looking for and was loving every minute of
this, his latest, adventure.

Jason came out of the building about a quarter past the hour, looking like
he was going to strangle someone.  He marched over to Dudley's car, opened
the passenger-side door and got inside.

"YOU SOLD MY CAR?  YOU SOLD MY FUCKIN' CAR!  I don't believe it.  Who the
hell do you think you are ass..." Jason was cut off before finishing his
sentence.

"PRIVATE... PIPE DOWN THIS MINUTE OR THERE WILL BE TROUBLE.  BELIEVE YOU
ME!  I told you I was going to sell your car, so don't act surprised.  You
no longer need it as from now on you will be going nowhere without my
permission.  In any case, I bought you a bicycle, which provides good
cardiac exercise."

"Cardiac exerci... Fuckin' unbelievable, man..."

"Listen my handsome little dickbrain, and that is what you are whether you
admit it to yourself or not, you watch your language and your behavior or I
won't simply dispose of your possessions, I will blast your career, your
future, your whole professional life to the back of beyond - finished,
kaputt.  You understand me Private?"

Jason's hands balled into fists.  He looked at the Colonel, frowned and
choked out a "Yes, Sir... man this..."

Dudley cracked a big smile under his moustache.

"Now, hop in back and lay down," Dudley said.

Jason gave him a confused look but complied, grumbling.  The Colonel had
put the seats down, so Jason could lie on his back with his head towards
the front and his feet down at the rear of the compartment.  Dudley got out
of the car, opened the rear door and climbed in.

"Bring your hands to your belt buckle, Private."

Jason sighed and did as he was told.  Dudley relieved him of his own cop
handcuffs and for the second time that day, Jason found his muscular arms
secured, this time in front of his body.  The Colonel reached over to a
brown paper bag and pulled out a gag.  It consisted of two rectangular
leather panels, heavily stitched together, for covering the mouth, with
thick leather straps that could be buckled like a belt behind the wearer's
head.  Protruding from the center of the leather "mouthpiece" were three
inches of flesh-toned soft rubber cock.  "This goes in your mouth.  Won't
that be fun?" Dudley said.  Jason's eyes sprang wide open.  He spluttered,
"Are you crazy?  We're in the parking lot for cryin' out loud!  Someone
could see us!"  Dudley cocked an eyebrow and smiled.  "We'd better not
waste time then my little stud-puppy, had we?  Hmmm?  Open wide."  Jason
grunted, "Aw fuck... mmmmfffffff."  Dudley fastened the straps behind
Jason's head.  "Here's my favorite part," Dudley said with a boyish gleam.
"On the top part here is a little cap, tightly screwed into the
mouthpiece."  Dudley tapped on the mouthpiece causing the rubber cock to
vibrate in Jason's mouth.  "The rubber cock in your mouth has a hollowed
out core leading to a little hole at the tip of those chewy rubber
piss-lips.  I filled that core this afternoon with my own triple-A army
gism.  You know what that means... any minute now and you are going to be
swallowing another guy's brew, getting all that good concentrated protein
into your system.  This army is going to make a real man out of you,
Private.  Heh heh."

Jason's eyes were wide.  He started to raise his hands towards his mouth,
but Dudley slapped them away.

Dudley looked out the windows to make sure the coast was clear.  He reached
down and unzipped Jason's trouser fly.  He stuck his hand in to pull
Jason's dick out.

"Well... well... well...what have we here?  Someone had quite the little
accident today!" Dudley said, feeling and smelling the damp briefs.  Dudley
patted Jason's balls through the cotton.

"Ummmffff!"

"These seem to be fully charged again, however.  But then, we've already
learned that you could put a dairy farm out of business in a single night,
heh heh... yessssss... real nice."

Dudley pulled Jason's half-hard cock out of the fly of his briefs.  He
grasped it in his right hand and rolled his thumb back and forth over the
tender spot where the underside of the mushroom head met the thick stalk.
Jason raised his head and watched, his fingers twitching as his cock began
to pulse.  Dudley then wrapped Jason's thickening rod in the cop's own
hands.  "Get yourself hard while you drink my gism, boy.  No stopping until
I tell you and no cumming either.  You hear me?"

"Awwwww fu... wes, phir..."

Dudley laughed.  He scooted out of the car, closed the rear door and
returned to the driver's seat.  He put the car in gear and pulled out of
the lot, keeping an eye on Jason in the rearview mirror.

While Dudley was driving, Jason could have let go of his dick.  He could
have reached behind his head and unbuckled the straps holding the gag in
place.  He didn't, though.  Instead, he looked across his hairy pec mounds
popping out of his shirt, buttoned only up to his sternum.  He watched his
own hands tease his big thick dick, and then he lowered his head onto the
floor of the cabin and moaned while he played with himself.  "Oh man, he
took my car away from me... I can't even go anywhere now... I'm so fuckin'
trapped... shit," Jason thought to himself.  His fingers lightly traced up
and down his throbbing shaft.  "Awww my dick... my hot juicy dick... feels
soooo good...," he mumbled through the cock-gag as the car sped out into
rush-hour traffic.


***************


"Hi Margaret."

"Heya Tony.  Filing huh?"

"Yeah, if they'd told me when I joined that I spend a third of my time
doing this..." Tony said rolling his eyes.

"Tell me about it," Margaret said as she walked on.

Porter shut down his computer and prepared to leave.  "See ya Martino.
Have a good week... oh dammit, did I just scuff my shoe?  I hate not having
shiny shoes!"  Tony looked up from his filing.

"Ha ha.  Just kidding, Martino.  Take it easy."

"Yeah, see ya Porter," Tony said.  He closed the filing cabinet and looked
at the cheap watch strapped around his left wrist.  "Five-thirty.  I could
head over and get a bit of warm-up time on the stairmaster before Pete
arrives," Tony said to himself.  He flipped off his computer, grabbed his
car keys and headed out.  Had he left just a few minutes earlier, he would
have seen the Colonel driving off in his Cherokee.

On the short drive over to the gym Tony thought about Rodriguez.  "What the
hell got into that guy?" he wondered.  Neither Tony nor Jason could figure
it out for sure.  Both guys thought it had something to do with the
Colonel, but if so how much did the Captain know and what information
exactly had been passed on to Rodriguez?  If Rodriguez was in on the game,
what assurance did they have that he would keep things under his hat?  Tony
thought things were unsettlingly close to spinning out of control -
anyone's control.  He wondered what the consequences of that were going to
be?  Jason had said earlier that he didn't think it was in the Colonel's
interest to say much to the Captain.  If Clemens had one old army
connection, than he had others, and that could be bad for the Colonel's
little scheme.  Jason filed that information away in his head thinking he
saw a possibility for reverse blackmail.  As for Rodriguez, neither Tony
nor Jason considered the possibility that their fellow officer was simply
coasting on superficial observations and seeing where those took him - like
any well-trained cop.

The image of Jason sucking on Rodriguez's toes came into Tony's mind.  "I
guess that was kinda cool... ha ha... Al does like to horse
around... that's gotta be it... that little shit.  Wonder if he makes his
girlfriend do that?  Yeah, I bet Al's just a horny fucker.  I can respect
that.  Turnin' me into his little toe-suckin' bitch... okay, Al, I guess
that was pretty funny.  I gotta take your Puerto Rican ass out for a beer!"
Tony laughed to himself as he parked near the gym.  His mind no longer
troubled by Rodriguez, he could now devote all his concentration to his
workout.  Tony was big on tackling one activity at a time.  Days that
required some kind of mental multi-tasking usually resulted in a bad mood.


***************


"All right, Pete, so how... umph... are we gonna... umph... play it
tonight... umph?" Tony asked as he pushed the heavy weights above his
chest, looking up at Pete spotting for him.  As usual Tony couldn't see his
buddy's face since the view was blocked by Pete's thick hairy legs and the
packed crotch of his red spandex shorts.  Pete had taken more and more to
standing right over Tony's face.  It happened so gradually, Tony hardly
seemed to notice it.  Other guys in the gym noticed, and grinned.  As Tony
pumped the weights up and down he deeply inhaled the rich scents between
Pete's legs.  Just as Pete had planned, Tony's brain was forging an
unconscious connection between working out and breathing in the odors
emanating from the construction stud's cock and balls.  Pete would have
been happy to stand there for hours.  He loved looking down across Tony's
body from this angle.  He saw below him a thick neck leading from between
his own muscle-bound legs to broad shoulders and those lusciously mounded
pecs trapped in the tight light-gray tee-shirt.  Two beautifully muscled
arms coated in sexy black hair strained with the weights, causing a thick
vein to appear running down the top of Tony's big rounded biceps.  The
trail, more like a tree trunk, of black hair between Tony's belly button
and the top of his shorts rested on a pelvic plain so firm Pete thought he
could bounce a quarter off it.  Two big hairy thighs fought their way out
of the shorts, bending at the knee so the large sneakered feet could rest
firmly on the ground.  And those shorts... how did they keep from ripping
apart, especially given the huge size of Tony's package?

"Hey Pete... umph..."

Pete snapped out of his reverie.  "Uh yeah, well guy, I thought we'd just
play it cool... real casual ya know?  Have a beer or two... strike up a bit
of conversation with these guys... try and get a sense of how easy it'd be
for you and me to take these two.  From your description, Tom's the main
contender physically."

"Yeah, he's an inch... umph... or so shorter than... umph... me, but
otherwise he's gotta be close to my... umph... weight... lotsa muscles on
him.  Phewwww."  Tony put the bar back on its rests with a bit of help from
Pete.  Pete grinned at the description of Tom and then stepped back so Tony
could sit up.

"So ya think we can just knock the shit outta them, scare 'em off, take
possession of the website?" Tony asked.

"We're gonna have to play it by instinct, but don't make any moves until I
tell ya too," Pete said.

"Right, man.  You call the plays and I'll do what ya say," Tony said.

Pete flashed his eyes, smiled, and patted Tony on the shoulder.  His hand
lingered.  "Your kinda tense," he said.

"Yeah, just a bit excited, that's all.  I can't wait to get these guys,"
Tony said bunching his fists like he was prepared to throw a punch.

"We'll get 'em, and then I'll loosen you up, stud," Pete said.  His hand
was working the muscles around the base of Tony's neck.  Tony rolled his
head on his shoulders.  "That feels good, man," he whispered.  Pete moved
his hand up to the back of Tony's head and gripped him by his short black
hair, gently tugging upwards, indicating he wanted Tony to stand up.
"Come'on, guy, lets go work our glutes...."  Tony giggled, submitted to the
tugging and rose up off the bench.  "Good idea!" he replied.



***************


A little before seven-thirty on this balmy Friday evening, Tony pulled into
the driveway of his own house.  Pete followed closely in his big Ford
truck.  The guys got out or their cars and looked at each other.  Pete had
showered at the gym and changed into walking shorts, a polo shirt, and his
usual workboots.  Tony, as required by Rick and Tom, had not showered or
changed out of his gym clothes.  The two guys headed towards the kitchen
door.

Except for the chirping of cicadas, the tree-lined street was quiet.  No
one out for a stroll would have had the slightest clue that a hot Friday
evening's entertainment was swinging into action across the street from
Tony's house, down in the confines of the Colonel's basement.

Upon returning to the Colonel's place Jason had been ordered to workout on
the various pieces of gym equipment in the basement while the Colonel
watched, sipping his dry martini.

"You are going to be kept in tip-top shape Private, tip-top," Dudley
informed him.  "You like that don't you... letting off steam, building up a
good sweat, keeping those muscles firm and hard."

"Yeeeaaahhh," Jason grunted reluctantly.

Dudley put down his cocktail, got out of his lounge chair, and walked over
to Jason.  Jason eased the metal crossbar in his hands upwards until the
weights on the other end of the pully were back in place.  The young cop
lowered his arms, sitting up straight.  His glistening muscular athletic
body was completely exposed except for his cock and nuts, enclosed in his
piss and sweat encrusted jockstrap.  He looked at Dudley approaching
slowly.  Dudley's moustache twitched and his tongue peeked out of his
mouth.  He reached down with both hands and ran his palms and fingers
across Jason's big hairy pecs.

"Real nice pattern of chest hair you got here Private... thick but tidy."
Jason looked down and watched the Colonel's smooth hands squeeze and
massage his pecs.  Jason's jaw weakened.  He swallowed and then his mouth
hung open.  "Yeah, I've got real nice pecs, hell I've got real nice
everything," he whispered.

"You are a fine piece of beef Private.  It's hard to know who is better,
you or your buddy across the street."

"Yeah, Tony's a stud too... uh, sir."

"That he is... the pair of you.  We are going to have to get the two of you
together for some fun and games.  I'd like to get some footage of you two
licking each other's pits and suckling each other's dicks... two
muscle-cops writing in helpless pleasure as each turns the other into a
dimwitted cocksucker."

"Unnngghh!" Jason grunted, whether from the suggestion or Dudley's pec
massage, he wasn't sure.  "I... I don't lick dick, sir."

Dudley was lightly scratching Jason's erect nipples, watching the young
stud's jock pouch rapidly expand forward.  "Oh, but you will, Private, you
will... and very soon.  You are never going to see cunt again, you might as
well get used to that idea, and we wouldn't want that tongue to grow lazy
from lack of use... no no no.  Don't worry, you won't miss licking pussy,
you will be too busy licking dick and I have a feeling you are going to
like that more, much more."

"Ahhh nooo... I'm a stud, you can't turn me into a cocksucker... a
hairy-chested, pea-brained dick-lapper."

Under Dudley's thick curling moustache a broad toothy grin appeared.
"Private, it is precisely because you are such a stud that I am going to
make you suck cock.  I can hardly wait.  And unless I am unusually
mistaken, your whole life... the horny rascally boy, the hunky
football-playing teen, the muscle-cop stud... has all been a process of
formatting.  All that waits is to put you in action... for you to be used,
permanently, for the pleasures of other men, above all myself."

"OH... oh oh... oh nooh," Jason said breathlessly, flexing his pecs for
Dudley's scratching and squeezing fingers as he took in the prospect of his
future.

Dudley reached down with his left hand and squeezed the engorged spongy
knob of Jason's dick through the straining mesh fabric of the jockstrap.

"Ah... ah ah... ohhhh... you're gonna make me lick dick... lick Tony's big
Italian stud-dick... oh man... oh damn..."

"That's right... and there will be no going back.  You know that don't you?
Once you have had a dick in your mouth, that's it, you can never again
honestly deny that you have sucked cock... that makes you a cocksucker.
All it takes is one dick and your fate will be sealed.  Heh heh heh."

Jason squirmed.  "Yeah... yeah, I've heard that... awww shit."

"Flex your biceps for me.  Yes, that's good."

Dudley got up and went to a drawer.  He came back over with a plastic
bottle.  He squeezed some of the contents onto his fingertips and began
rubbing it into Jason's nips.

"You have got large aureolas and good-sized nipples, Private."

"Yeah... I've always had real he-man tits.  What are ya puttin' gel on them
for?"

Dudley went back to the drawer and returned with two clear plastic suction
cups with rubber rings at their bases.  Jason thought he recognized some
kind of pump.

"Okay, put your arms down at your sides now.  There we go.  That's it,"
said Dudley.

The Colonel reached out and applied one plastic cup to Jason's right tit,
dialing it around to get a good grip.  He attached the pump and pulled the
stopper out.  Jason's right nip and the flesh around it was sucked inside,
sealing the grip of the rubber ring that held the cup in place.

"Whoooaaa!  What are you doing?  What is that?"

The Colonel silently repeated the process on Jason's left tit, sucking it
into the cup and causing the soft rubbery nubbin of Jason's tit to swell a
little bit.

"Jason, you are now required to wear these during your daily workout.  The
gentle pulling on your plump stud tits will temporarily increase their size
and sensitivity.  You are going to look hotter and sexier than ever and I
am going to enjoy it.  As I say, it is only temporary; the swelling goes
down after a while.  Of course, with repeated use, of the kind you are
going to submit to, some degree of enlargement will become permanent.
Within a couple of months Jason, you are going to have bigger, juicier,
more sensitive tits.  You know what that means..."

"Huh!  My tits are gonna be really pokin' out my shirt, callin' out for
someone to grab hold of 'em and tweak 'em... and anyone who does is
gonna... shit, they're have me fuckin' helpless!"

"Precisely Private, that is exactly the ripe situation in which you shall
be placed.  Just because I am going to turn you into a cocksucker doesn't
mean I am going to neglect other means of assisting your descent into horny
sexual submission.  Hee hee hee... oh delightful!"

Dudley straightened up.  Jason kept looking down at his tightly pumped
man-tits.  The Colonel ran two fingers up and down Jason's left bicep.
"Return to your workout dickbrain.  I will tell you when you can stop."

Jason fired a slug of juice into his jockstrap, "unngh," and reached up for
the bar above his light-brown-haired head.




A little while later, about the time Tony and Pete were entering Tony's
house, Jason had been secured to a steel frame.  Leather-padded steel cuffs
attached to short chains kept his brawny legs spread apart; his feet firmly
planted on the thin rubber mats that covered most of the basement floor.
Jason's wrists were likewise secured, stretching out towards the top
corners of the frame.  The suction cups over his tits had been removed.
Jason's nipples were a little puffy.  The slightest breeze seemed to cause
a sweet sharp tickle.  For some reason this just caused him to push his
muscular chest out further.  It also made his dick twitch.

The Colonel stepped back to admire the scene.  He had put Jason in an old
beige army-issue tee-shirt.  He'd taken it from some young, built, sergeant
a few years ago.  Since then, he'd used it as his personal cum rag.  It had
never been washed.  The thin stiff scratchy cotton was now rubbing against
Jason's tits and sending tingling jolts to his dick.  On his legs Jason was
dressed in a pair of army fatigues with a broad black leather belt at the
waist.

"Hmmmm... something is missing.  Ah ha!" said Dudley.  He walked into
Jason's "brig" and fetched the cop's dark reflective aviator sunglasses.
Jason meanwhile tested his bonds.  He quickly discovered that apart from
swinging his elbows back and forth about half an inch in either direction,
and swivelling his hips a bit, he couldn't move.  He was too tautly
stretched.  He grunted.  Dudley returned with the sunglasses and slid them
on over Jason's nose and ears.

"Hoh hoh hohhhhhh... yessss... that's better," the Colonel mused aloud as
he tapped his fingers on his... chin.  The Colonel's own beige uniform
slacks were tented.  He walked back up to Jason and slowly unzipped the
strapped "private's" trouser fly.  He pulled it down slowly, seemingly
savoring the unhitching of each little metal tooth.

"Aw geeze, do you have to do it so slowly... that's fuckin' perverted.
Just unzip it," Jason groaned.

Dudley laughed and kept lowering the zipper switch at a teasingly slow
rate.  For Jason, something about watching another man undo his fly like
that was causing his butt cheeks to clench and his dick to swell.  He
whimpered and scrabbled his fingers and toes.

"What ya gonna do to me, Colonel?"

Dudley's heavily gelled moustache twitched again and he raised an eyebrow.
When the zipper was fully lowered, Dudley tugged at the crotch of the
fatigues until Jason's twitching rod popped through the opening, sticking
out and slightly upwards.

"There's our little corporal, all ready for action," Dudley said.

Jason looked admiringly at his own big dick.  Dudley reached into his
trouser pocket and pulled out a long smooth brown leather strap, about the
width of a shoelace.  He folded it over once, grabbed hold of either end
and tugged quickly, causing the two parallel strands to make a loud SNAP.
Jason swallowed.  His mouth dropped open.  Dudley held onto the folded end
and trailed the two loose ends over the top of Jason's dick.  He repeated
this a couple of times, making Jason squirm in wonder at what was going to
be done to his manly tackle.  The Colonel raised a hand and whacked two
fingers across the top of Jason's cock tip.

"HOOOOHH!" Jason gasped.  His body tried to lurch instinctively, but was
unable to move.

Dudley gripped the folded strap at either end now and proceeded to saw it
back and forth just where the delicate skin of the shaft and the two lobes
of the underside of the dick helmet joined together.

"Ah,,, ah ah ah... ah...ooooohhhhhhh... ooohhhhh... Colonel... Colonel,
sir... if you keep that up I... I think I'm gonna shoot... oh yeah..."

Dudley stopped what he was doing.  "Uh uh uh... we can't have that... not
just yet."

"Oh no... come'on... I'm achin' to cum, man!"

"Man?" Dudley queried.

"Sir!" Jason quickly corrected himself.

Dudley brought the strap to the base of Jason's shaft and began encircling
the hefty tube-steak over and over with the leather strands, pulling them
tight.  He looked up at the handsome square-jawed face behind those macho
sunglasses.

"Ungh... what are ya doin' there?" Jason asked.

Dudley entwined the strands, pulled tightly again, and tied a knot.
Jason's super-hard dick bobbed up and down.  The Colonel took the long
dangling ends of the leather strap and wrapped them around the top of
Jason's ball sack, cinching the strap firmly, squeezing the ducts through
which Jason's big nuts piped hot cum to his dick.  Jason's bull balls were
forced further down into his sack.  Dudley then ran one strand down the
front of the hairy sack between the two balls and joined it up with the
other strand hanging behind.  Again he intwined the two piecs and pulled
tight, separating Jason's two goose-egg-sized nards into strapped and
trapped bulging orbs.  The Colonel tied a firm knot and then went back over
to the small chest of drawers standing at the opposite wall.  Jason saw the
Colonel turn around with a small weight in his hands.

"No... hey... hey... you're not hangin' that from my balls are ya?"

"This little thing?  It is a mere five pounds, Private.  Just enough to add
some downward pressure.  You are going to like the tugging sensation... and
even if you don't there is nothing you can do about it, heh heh heh."

Three minutes later and the remaining ends of the leather strap had been
joined and knotted through the hole in the weight.  Jason grunted at the
strange sensation.

"My... my dick feels even harder... sir."

"I bet it does.  However, I think you will find it rather difficult to
blast your load now, Private," Dudley said.

Jason didn't like that idea.  He looked up at the cuffs around his wrists
and frantically tugged.  His muscular arms flexed and strained.  Dudley
reached up and ran his hands across the struggling muscular forearms,
savoring the feel of the thick masculine light-brown hair against the firm
musculature.  His fingertips started to tease and tickle the insides of
Jason's biceps prompting a low gurgling sound and rapid puffs of breath
from the chained cop.

Dudley stepped back.  A pearl of pre-cum had bubbled at the tip of Jason's
quivering dick.  Dudley reached over and ran his fingers along the
underside of the shaft eliciting deep moans and whimpers from the captive
stud.  Jason's dick throbbed.  His balls tightened, but could not rise up
in their strapped confinement.

"Ahhhhh my dick... my hot dick... you got me so fuckin' turned on... aw
shit..."

Dudley smiled and got down on his knees.  He caressed the top of Jason's
left foot.  After a couple of minutes, Jason saw the Colonel pull out a
pocket-knife.  Dudley grabbed hold of the bottom of the fatigues bunched up
over the cuff at Jason's left angle.  He took the knife and snicked at the
seam along the side of the trouser leg until he had cut away about six
inches of thread.  Then he folded the knife back into its shell and put it
away.  He snaked his hands under the trouser leg and massaged the thick
hairy calf muscle.

Jason watched breathing heavily.  "You like that leg, Colonel?  Yeah, I can
see ya do.  These legs shift a lot of weight at the gym.  Good runners on
the field too when I feel like a little pick-up game of football with my
buddies.  Yeah, massage that nice hairy calf, Colonel."

Dudley was enjoying Jason's cocky banter, but he didn't want the cop
forming any illusions as to who was in control.  He slid his hands out of
the trousers and gripped the material on either side of the seam.
"Rrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiippppppppp!"

"Huh?"  The smile on Jason's face had vanished.

Dudley re-gripped the fabric and pulled again.  "Rrrriiiiiipppppp!"

The left leg of Jason's fatigues now hung open from mid-thigh.  Dudley ran
his hands up and down the leg from ankle to just above the knee, squeezing
and petting the hairy muscle.  He looked up at Jason, the big hunk's mouth
hanging open.

"Fuckin' rip-n-strip, huh?  So that's your game," Jason said calmly.

Dudley's eyes flashed.  He parted his lips.  Out from his mouth slithered
the longest wettest tongue Jason had ever seen.

"What the... geeze, when did you swallow that giant slug, Dudley?  That's a
fuckin' monster!"

Dudley's moustache twitched at the provocation.  The "slug" retracted.

"Heh heh, he chuckled from his kneeling position.  "I've reduced many an
elegant lady to a warbling slut with this dear old tongue of mine.  I can't
tell you the pleasure I've had hearing then scream and beg for more as this
tongue wormed its way up their damp snatch.  Amusing though that has been
as a way to pass the time, it will be as nothing to the delight I shall
take hearing you yell and watching you squirm as this "slug" as you call
it, slides deep up your tight mancunt.  You will no doubt try to resist,
but I will defeat you.  Your fine ass will be laved and tickled, your
quivering hole seduced and opened, your hot chute tormented, tamed, and
turned out.  The sands of time are running out for your straight ass.  This
evening your pussification will begin.  But let's not hurry... there is so
much of you to explore."

"Oh no!"

"Your bushy pits, for example."

"NO!"

"Those big, oh-so-sensitive man-tits trying to punch two holes in that
tee-shirt..."

"Naw man, no... no, don't... not my tits... I'll fuckin' go nuts after the
way you got 'em all swelled up and tender... "

"The nape of your neck... those meaty, hairy, ticklish inner thighs..."

Oh... gr... up...dja... aaawwwwwwwwww..."

"Your churning, steaming strapped up balls..."

"My churnin'... steamin'... oh no!"

"Your poor pulsing pecker... look at it... velvet on steel.  So
vulnerable... so defenseless... so hard.  You are going to want to shoot
your load so badly your eyes will cross, but awww you poor stud, poor
stupid stud... you won't be able to shoot.  The pressure is going to build,
though.  Man, Private, is it going to build.  Prepare for a serious case of
blue balls, meathead."

Dudley's tongue snaked back out.  He started licking in long wet strokes
from Jason's ankle to his knee.

"NOOOOO!  DON'T!  DON'T, MAN... I MEAN SIR!  PLEASE!  YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO
ME!  THERE'S GOTTA BE SOMETHIN' ELSE WE CAN DO?  NO, STOP... STOP!  Aw
that's fuckin' perverted... aw geeze your gettin' my leg all sticky 'n
HO... ho ho that tickles NO! NOT MY THIGH!  Aw fuck, all that big tanned
hairy muscle, I've got, gettin' all slobbered and slimed... oh man, oh man,
oh man."

Over the course of the next half hour, the army fatigues had been ripped to
shreds leaving what looked like a pair of tattered boxer shorts, split open
at the sides with a thick black belt holding them up.  Jason was
whimpering, almost to the point of crying as Dudley's hands followed by his
laving tongue delicately sullied Jason's stretched out inner thighs.

"Ahhhh... sir, you're really fixin' me up good here... Please untie my
dick... I'm drippin like mad, sir... my cop cream wants to come out
faster... ahhhhh fuck I'm a mess."

Dudley stood up, leaned in and licked the right bicep.

"Huh!" Jason gasped.

Dudley walked around behind and began licking up and down Jason's right arm
from the wrist to the tricep pushing out of the short sleeve.

"Oh that's raunchy man, my big hairy arm gettin' all slimed with your hot
army spit.  Oh shit... oh yeah..."

Dudley moved his tongue to the back of Jason's neck, his hands on the
gym-built young cop's mounded shoulders.  Jason shuddered.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

Dudley's hands rolled across Jason's shoulders and down his bulging pecs.
Jason watched as the fingers got closer and closer to his helpless
nipples... bullseye!  Jason jumped.  "Aaaiiieeeeeeeee!"  He grunted.  His
head fell back onto Dudley's left shoulder.  Dudley twisted the itchy
cotton of the tee-shirt back and forth.  Jason thought his tits were
getting sandpapered.  The jolting sensation seemed to short-circuit his
brain.

"Ohhhhh, I am so fuckin' toasted... ah shit... butter me up and serve me on
a plate..."

"Oh it's too early for that.  You're not ready until we have a nice pot of
sweet sticky j-a-m to spread all over you."

"Oh yeah, I've got it for you Colonel... I've got it boiled down real thick
and ready to go... please..."

"I know you do, boy, I know you do.  It's so hard to think about anything
but that, isn't it... all those gallons of spunk trapped in your aching
balls.  What's your name, boy?"

"Jase... uh, I mean... uh, Private pea-bra... DICKBRAIN!  Private
Dickbrain, ready for action sir... oh my tits..."

Dudley looked at Jason's face with the dark sunglasses and full grimacing
lips showing straight white teeth.  He pushed Jason's head back upright and
strolled in front of the tied-up cop.  He pulled out his pocketknife again,
grabbed the hem of the tee-shirt and started slicing up the middle of the
tight cotton top.  The handsomely furred abdominal ridges came into view,
followed quickly by the glorious pectoral plates rising off Jason's torso
like bluffs looming over a plain.  When the tee-shirt hung fully open
across Jason's heaving chest, Dudley put the knife back in his pocket.  He
cupped the big hairy pecs, squeezed, and then slid his fingers to the
densely tufted armpits.

"PWAH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA... HO HO HO HO HO... OHHHHHH NOOOO... NOT... HA
HA HA... MY... HA HA HO HO... PITS!  HEE HEE HEE HO HO HAH!  HA HA HA
HA... OH SHIT... HA HA HA!"

Jason was now very alert.  Dudley's long fingers were tickling the shit out
of his stinking pits.  He saw the Colonel stick his tongue out again.  He
watched it move closer and closer to his left tit.

"NO!  YOU'RE KILLIN' ME, MAN... DON'T YOU... HA HA HA HA HA... DARE... HA
HA... SUCK MY... HA HA HA... TIT... HA... ASSHO HO HO... HA HA HA HA
HA... NOOOOH... WHA... WHA... HA HA
HA... NNNNGGGHHH... OOOHHHHH... EEEEEEEEYYYAAAOOOOOHHHHH... AW
DAMN... HA... oohhhhhhhh...HA HA...nnngghhhhh...oooohhhhhhh...my ha
ha... stud tit... HA... crap that tickles... ha ha... oh no... aw hell,
you're taking me down... ho ho ho oooooooohhh."

After ten minutes, sweat was pouring off Jason's body.  Dudley got down on
one knee and started licking the strapped up hairy balls.  Jason gulped in
air recovering from the attack on his pits and tits.  His breaths soon came
quick and short, however, as he watched the Colonel take care of his
tingling nuts.

"Oh, m...sir... you're really gettin' me worked up down
there... ooohhhh... you fuckin' keep gettin' my Irish cream to churn like
that n' you're gonna turn it into solid fuckin' butter, man... or at least
as dense as fuckin' Cool Whip... ah man... that damned moustache 'a yours
is drivin' me nuts... scratchin' my prickly balls 'n' combin' my short 'n
curlies... ahhhh... HUH!"

Dudley's tongue had moved.  He was licking up and down the underside of
Jason's pulsing rod.  Jason could no longer speak.  All that came out of
his mouth was a long high pitched sigh.  His dick pulsed hard.  It leaked a
little clear sap.  The Colonel crawled between Jason's legs.  He whipped
out the pocketknife and severed the threads holding together the bottom of
what remained of the fatigues.  What had formerly been a pair of trousers
was now simply two short flaps, front and back, held up by a belt and a
hard dick sticking out the fly.  Dudley's hands crawled under the back flap
and cupped the two muscled globes of Jason's ass.  He rubbed his hands all
over, taking possession of the firm fuzzy mounds.

"Hmmm... you sunbathe in a speedo, Jason.  It's a nice look.  I see that
your tight bubble-butt is as hairy as the rest of you.  Bet that tickles a
bit when I brush my hands over it lightly, huh?"

Jason tried to turn his head around to see what the Colonel was doing.  He
was so horned up he could hardly register what the Colonel was saying.

"Maybe we'll let you keep all this fuzz on your butt cheeks or maybe we
will shave it off.  I'll have to think on that... I've got some plans for
this fine cop ass."  With that said, Dudley's slick tongue took a long
swipe up Jason's left cheek.

"Oh no..."

The tongue swabbed around and around before delving into the sweat-slicked
crack.  Jason tried to escape Dudley's fiendish intentions by thrusting
forward.  This gained him maybe an inch or two, but he couldn't hold the
pose.  Nor could he stifle a sigh.  The warm tongue felt too good.
Suddenly, it was at his pucker.

"NO... no you bastard... get your tongue away from my ass pucker... damn
that tickles... stop it, right this minute!  You're not queering me... no
way... do you hear...heh heh... ooohhh shit.  Shit shit shit... your
openin' me up!  Your openin' up my tight muscle-cop ass... come'on... get
your tongue outta there, man... ooohhhhhhhhhh... that's nasty... aaaahhhhhh
my ass... your tongue is in my fuckin' ass."  Jason flexed all his muscles
trying to clench his butt cheeks.  He noticed the mirror above the chest of
drawers opposite him.  He could see himself - his hard dick sticking out of
the tattered fatigues, the tight tee-shirt hanging in loose panels from his
shoulders, his chest exposed, his dark sunglasses on his handsome head, the
sexy muscles in his arms and legs flexing, flexing, flexing.  He thought he
looked hot, trapped in that frame.  "Yeah... worship my fuckin' hot body
Colonel... that's where you belong... on your knees, usin' your tongue to
make me feel good.  No slacking off... you lick until I tell ya to
stop... you hear me back there?"

Dudley stopped what he was doing.  This was not quite how it was supposed
to be going.  He wanted to see that huge ego crumble in humiliation.
Instead, Jason seemed to be turning the tables, assuming the position of
authority.  Dudley got up, frustrated.  He looked at Jason in the mirror -
a broad smirk on the cop's face.

"Told ya you couldn't take my ass, faggot."

Dudley's eyes narrowed.  He marched up the stairs, slamming the door to the
basement.




Across the street, Tony was showing Pete around his house.  So far there
was no sign of Rick and Tom.  As Tony showed Pete the work he had done
restoring the place, he got pissed off at the mess.  Rick and Tom had
initially said they would help him continue to fix the place up, but they
hadn't lifted a finger.  On the contrary, they never seemed to clean up
after themselves at all.  Tony kicked a pile of dirty clothes on the floor.

Pete patted him on the shoulder and said, "How about that beer, guy?  Ya
got any pretzles or chips or somethin' to go with it?"

"These fucker's messin' up my property... dammit!"

The two big men headed back to the kitchen.  Tony popped open a couple of
brews and grabbed a bag of chips.  He nodded his head in the direction of
the living room.  "Let's see what's on ESPN or somethin'," he said to Pete.




The Colonel was standing in the basement massaging his crotch.  Jason had
shown himself to be every bit as cocky as Dudley had hoped.  He had freed
the young cop from the steel frame, removed the tattered garments, and
untied the strap around Jason's cock and balls.  He'd watched Jason stretch
his muscles a bit to loosen the tension.

Into the center of the basement Dudley had dragged a large square table,
more like a platform since it only rose about a foot off the floor, resting
on large blocky corner supports.  The top was covered in padded vinyl.
Dudley had ordered Jason to get up onto the platform.  The hunky naked stud
made a show of it, flexing his muscles from his raised position.  He
laughed at himself and at Dudley and sat down.  He pushed his fingers into
the densely padded vinyl then changed position.  Keeping his feet flat on
the surface and his knees bent, he crossed his arms over his chest, lay
back and began doing sit-ups.

"So is this what we're doin' now Duds," he said in a husky voice as he
powered through his routine.  "You gonna stand there and watch me do
sit-ups while you play with yourself?  Huh?  Is that it?"

"Not a bad idea," Dudley replied, "but let's try this first."  He stepped
behind Jason, and when the cop next lowered himself, the Colonel put a hand
on his forehead, preventing him from rising up.

Jason stopped his sit-ups and put his arms above his head.  "You wanna look
at my sexy hairy pits?  That what you want, big man?  Go ahead, have a
look.  You and I have a few things to discuss," Jason teased.  He was
gearing himself up for a confrontation with the Colonel.

Dudley smiled.  He lightly grabbed Jason's right wrist and pulled the arm
out sideways to the edge of the platform.  Jason's right arm now lay like a
letter "L", his wrist and elbow paralleling the edge of the platform.
Slowly, as if he didn't fear Jason putting up the slightest resistance, the
Colonel buckled the wrist into a broad thick leather strap, bolted to the
side of the platform.  Jason watched him do it.  His dick had retracted a
bit during the sit-ups, but it now began to stiffen up again.

The Colonel stepped over to the other side and repeated the procedure with
Jason's left wrist.  He then buckled another leather strap over Jason's
muscular forearm, just above the elbow.  Dudley went back to the right side
and performed the same action on that arm.  Jason tugged at the straps.  He
could shake his fists back and forth, but he could neither bring them
inwards, away from the platform edge, nor could he raise them up.

'Flexible, but ultimately very secure," Dudley snickered.  He stepped down
to Jason's right knee and pulled it out so that the cop's thigh rested at a
slight diagonal, his lower leg resting parallel to the side of the
platform.  A strap was fastened over the ankle and then a much larger one
was fastened around the slightly upraised knee.  Jason's left leg was
strapped likewise.  If Jason didn't mind the strain on the muscles in his
thighs, he could try to lower his knees to the platform surface, but he
could not raise his legs upwards and inwards, something he might wish to do
if he wanted to protect his crotch.

The Colonel stood up.  Looking down he saw Jason spread out like a
Christmas turkey on its back.  The Colonel rubbed his hands together.
Jason tested the bonds.  He fully appreciated his splayed out position.
"What's this Colonel Sanders?  Gonna show me your secret Kentucky Fried
Turkey recipe?"

"Now it was the Colonel's turn to laugh.  "Uh huh... complete with
stuffing!  And lots of gravy!"

Jason now thought his little smart-ass comment to the Colonel wasn't such a
clever idea.  He tugged at the leather straps and looked down in confusion
as his dick started to rise off his firm belly.  "Uh oh!  Better act fast,"
he thought.  Time to put his plan into action.

"Listen up, Duds... game's over.  Le'me up."

Dudley just ignored Jason and walked over to the chest of drawers.  He
pulled a few things out and kept them hidden behind his back as trotted to
the platform and kneeled on the floor at Jason's feet.  He laid his little
cache of toys on the floor where Jason couldn't see them.  Jason raised his
head and looked down the length of his splayed out muscular body.  "Damn, I
got it all," he said smiling and then he looked at the Colonel and furrowed
his eyebrows.  "Geeze," he thought to himself, "he fuckin' looks like some
googly-eyed kid about to unwrap a present."

"Now listen, Colonel..." he started to say when suddenly he saw Dudley
reach down to the floor with both hands to pick something up.  Two seconds
later and he could see the Colonel's hands again, each one twirling a
stiff, white... feather!

"UH OH!  NO... no no no no no!"

Suddenly Jason felt very aware of his feet.

"Don't you dare or you're gonna be in even more trouble, man!" said Jason
sternly, if anxiously.

"Oh, yes, stud-boy?  How is that exactly?" Dudley said as he started to
tickle the soft soles of Jason's feet.

"CLEMENS!" Jason shouted.  "CLEMENS, MAN!  STOP IT!"

"Clemens?" Dudley repeated, momentarily stopping his torment of Jason's
size elevens.

"Yeah!  You fuckin' told him something.  You let him in on what you're
doin' to me!  And that, man, was a mistake!" Jason spat.

"How's that, Private?"

"Because this is illegal, idiot!  I fill Clemens in and you're gonna be in
trouble, not only with the police, but with the fuckin' army too.  And
Clemens'll back me up.  You think you're the only guy he knows in the army?
You said yourself that he was an old army bud.  Say goodbye to your
military pension, fucker, 'cause I'm gonna make sure you don't get it!"

"Uh huh..." Dudley said quietly.  "What makes you think I told Clemens
something?"

"The uniforms, man.  We got these fuckin' tight n' raunchy uniforms we have
to wear now, Tony and me.  Clemens gave 'em too us.  Said they were
permanent and then he said to say 'hi' to you!  So I know you told him!"

"Heh heh.  That's kind of true, but not exactly, my friend.  I told him
that one of his officers lived across the street from me and that both
Officer Martino and you struck me as not overly bright self-absorbed cops
with a muscle fetish and it would serve you right to have to put your goods
on constant display.  I added that it could only benefit the image of the
PD among the ladies in town.  Ha ha ha!  It was merely a... suggestion.
Good old Burt.  That son-of-a-bitch always did love practical jokes.
Beyond that, I didn't say a word... Scout's Honor!" Dudley said holding up
two fingers.

"Wha... what about Rodriguez?  He got the promotion and he made us suck his
toes!"

"Can't say I'm familiar with the name.  Perhaps Clemens took my hint about
you striking me as less than a genius, though.  As for you sucking
toes... well, I'm glad to hear you are finally being of some use to our
upstanding police force.  Maybe we should invite this... what's his name?
Rodriguez?  Maybe we should invite him over.  You can have a nice long
session with his feet.  How about that?  See?  If you just behave,
Dickbrain, you will find that this here army is just what you need.  We
take horny sex-hounds like you and, well, we make sure you stay that way!
Ha!  No escape, muscle-boy... gay muscle-boy."

"I'm not gay!" Jason retorted.

"Your not?  Well blast it all, my mistake!  Ooops, I nearly forgot... I
don't care!  Anyway, I think you are gay.  Your buddy across the street is
too.  And this Rodriguez fellow, I'd put money down that he thinks your
gay.  As for Clemens, well, I can tell you that he is straight as they come
and he's got a hell of a fine wife.  She keeps him happy, let me tell you.
How do you think they ended up with all those kids?  Clemens... he's always
got to stick that prong of his into something.  Back when he was younger,
around your age it would have been... I didn't actually know him all that
well... still don't, really.  In any case, we were on temporary leave in
Chicago.  He was already getting serious about the girl who would become
his Misses.  He's not the cheating kind, Clemens, no sir, but when we got
into a bit of a scrape with a couple of Marines... well, they're a tough
lot, the Marines, but men through and through.  When they lost the fight,
why, we took their asses.  I don't think it was the first time for either
of those fine men.  They sure didn't complain.  You know, maybe you should
offer your ass up to Clemens?  Flatter him a bit.  A man his age rarely
objects to a little trip down memory lane."

Jason gasped.  "Noh... ohhhh noh!"

"Now where were we?"

"I'll go to the army!  I'll espose you!" Jason spluttered.

"More likely just expose yourself.  What exactly do you think Clemens would
say when the army contacted him for confirmation of your allegations?"

"Holy double-indemnity!"

"Ha!  You sound like Martino.  Now he's a hairy-assed fucker, let me tell
you.  He keeps it trimmed though, did you know that... like his pubes.
Just a nice fine dusting of short soft hairs on those sweet Italian cheeks
of his.  Drives him nuts when I dribble a bit of honey on those
globes... and lick it off real slowly."  Jason's dick was leaking, the
sticky sap dripping down his shaft.  He squirmed.  Dudley gave the vilest
Cheshire-cat grin.  "Wow, you are one hot muscle-stud... all that muscle,
that firm, young handsome, hairy muscle... about to come under my
control...  Hey, all this reminiscing and I forgot to ask... how are your
feet?"

"Ungh... my feet?"

"Yes, Private, your feet.  A little itchy lately?"

"Huh?  Yeah... yeah... real itchy this morning.  How'd you know?"

Dudley put the feathers down and lifted up something that looked about the
size of a golf ball, but made of black rubber with what looked like a white
plastic funnel tip.

"What's that?" Jason asked hesitantly.

"Itching powder," the Colonel said with a laugh.  "I put it in your socks
this morning."

"You... you... oh man, that stuff nearly drove me nuts!  You asshole!"

Dudley slapped Jason's straining dick."

"Tssssssssssss... aaahhhh... shit, what'd you do that for, man?"

"Your language, Private!  You address me properly or I will put you in your
police uniform, take you to the toilet at some truck stop, and tie you to
the urinals blindfolded... can you picture that?"

Jason swallowed.  "Awwwwww... shhhh.... nngghhh,
yes... Sir... Geeze... fuckin' truckers'd piss on me... shit."

"On you?  Sure, if your lucky... heh heh heh.  I'd make you wear that
uniform to work the next day too!"

"Awwwwwwwwwwwwwww..."

"Now, let's see...."  Dudley stood up and fetched the digital camcorder
from off the shelf he had put it on to film Jason in the steel frame.  Now
he put it on a tripod at Jason's feet and focused it to take in the whole
platform.  Jason lifted his head up.

"You're filming me?  Naw, fuck!  Ungh, umph, aargh," he grunted as he
struggled to get free of the straps.

While Jason gave his muscles a workout, Dudley kneeled behind his head.
Jason stopped struggling and looked up.  "Stroker" put his hands on Jason's
wrists and began slowly feeling up the muscular arms, making his way to the
cop-studs pungent bushy armpits.

"Ahhhh crap, my pits... you know what that does to me."

Dudley's fingers got coated in Jason's pit sweat.  He brought them to
Jason's face and wiped them on the prone stud's lips.  "A nice bit of gloss
for those lips of yours."  The Colonel then ran his fingers through the
short light-brown hair on Jason's head to wipe off any remaining pit sweat.
To Jason's embarrassment, he found he couldn't help licking his lips.  He
let out a little whimper.

Colonel Dudley picked up the little black rubber ball with the spout and
held it where Jason could see it.  Jason froze.  "Wha... whatcha gonna do
with that?"  He watched the object in Dudley's hand slowly move towards his
right armpit.  Dudley aimed the spout directly into that hairy cavern.
Jason wanted desperately to pull his arm to his side, but all he could do
was flex his bicep and wriggle his fingers.

"Oh no, not itchy pits... oh man..."

Holding the itching powder in his right hand, Dudley brought his left hand
down to Jason's right pit and rubbed his fingers in it gently, teasing the
hair and the sensitive skin.  Jason stared transfixed.

"Does that feel good, Jason?" Dudley cooed.  "Such a nice sexy pit."  He
teased the pit with his fingers just a little bit longer, then rubbed the
sweat on Jason's bicep.  He aimed the nozzle attached to the black rubber
ball.

Pffffttttt... pffffttttt.

"Oh... oh no..."

Dudley lifted the ball across Jason's line of vision, comically making the
hunk turn his head towards his still virginal left pit.  Dudley repeated
the same process, drawing out the moment.  He enjoyed watching Jason
instinctively and hopelessly flex his bicep.

Pffffttttt... pffffttttt.

Dudley sat back on his haunches and waited for the powder to take effect.
Jason gritted his teeth.  Short loud puffs of air were whistling through
his nostrils.  How he couldn't stop flexing his hairy muscular arms, even
if he had wanted to.  Dudley recognized the signs.

"Sooooo itchy, huh?"

"Oh, man... oh oh oh..."

Dudley picked up the two feathers and dangled them over Jason's stiff
sensitive man-tits.

Jason let out a little cry.  He lifted his head and looked down his
spectacular hairy pecs.

"My tits!  You're gonna feather my tits, aren't ya!"

"Sure am, tit-boy, and you are going to love it!  You want your tits played
with all the time, don't you?  Don't you?"

"Awww, shit.  Yeah, yeah... okay."

"You are a tit-pig, aren't you Jason?"

"Oh no..."

"What are you, Jason?" Dudley asked as he lowered the feather and began
fiendishly diddling the helpless cop-stud's nips.

"Oh, oh, I'm... I'm a tit-pig, sir."

"I know you are.  You pal Martino is even worse.  He's really just a big
slut for having his tits worked over.  After you have had those cups on
your tits for a couple months, though, you will be just as bad.  I'm going
to see to that."

"Aw man, my fuckin' hot muscular pecs are gonna be capped with fuckin'
stiff itchy tits all the time, huh..."

"I've got some little pads, with wires that hook up to a generator so we
can run a nice sweet low electrical current through those beauts.
Stimulate them for hours... won't that be fun?" Dudley teased.  Jason's
dick waved like the meter on a seismograph.  The poor dude.  Between the
itching in his pits and the feathering of his tits, his head felt like it
was about to explode.  He didn't know which way to turn.  His big arms were
flexing, his muscle-bound legs were twitching in their straps, trying to
make faint helpless overstimulated kicks.

Suddenly, the Colonel put the feathers down.  He stepped over to Jason's
right side and ran his index finger up the underside of Jason's shaft.

"Huh!"  Jason looked down at his dick just in time to see a thick glob of
his cop-cream spurt out.  His cock-tip was coated with the sticky stuff.

Now that Dudley had his attention, he picked up the rubber ball again.

"My... my dick is already super fuckin' itchy, man," Jason said with a look
of disbelief on his face.

Dudley smiled and aimed the spout at the pulsing pecker.  Jason steeled
himself for the next puff of powder.  Instead, Dudley started lowering the
tormenting toy.  "My... my balls?" Jason asked, his deep voice moving up an
octave.

The Colonel grinned and shook his head 'no'.  He kept lowering the devilish
little thing... down the front of the ballsack, then back behind.  Jason
could feel the spout tracing a line along his cock root, back behind his
hairy nuts.  And then...

"NNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!  NOT MY ASSHOLE... MY TIGHT STRAIGHT-BOY
PUCKER!"

The Colonel nodded his head.  Jason kicked his legs like he thought he
could scoot away.  "You are going to get that promotion after all,
Private," Dudley said.  He looked at his watch.  "Prepare to begin 'Project
Sergeant Stud-Pussy.'  Countdown commencing now.  5... 4... 3... 2... 1..."

Pffffttttt... pffffttttt... pffffttttt!

"Oh no... oh no no no... oh shit, my pucker... my hot cherry pucker!"

Dudley went to the digicam to zero-in on the exposed stud-hole between
those delicious hairy-muscled legs helplessly splayed wide open.  Within
two minutes Jason was furiously clenching his butt cheeks trying to somehow
rub or soothe his quivering, puckering ass-lips.  To no avail.

"Ah geeze, I never felt anything like that... ooohhhhh ssshhhiiitt, it so
fuckin' itchy... HOLY SHIT!"  Jason grunted, groaned and whimpered.  It was
music to the Colonel's ears.  He zoomed back out with the lens to take in
Jason's whole writhing body, and stepped away from the camera.  Dudley went
back to Jason's right side, this time with one of the feathers in his hand.
He waved it for Jason to see.

"Oh no..."  Jason's head fell back on the padded vinyl.  For a second, the
Colonel thought he might have passed out, but then Jason raised his head
again as if to confirm his worst suspicions.

"What... what are... what are you gonna do with that feather, sir?"

"I'm going to fuck you with it!"

Jason's eyes rolled up in his head and his head fell back on the vinyl.
Again the Colonel wondered whether Jason had fainted and then again Jason
raised his head to look down.  He watched the Colonel lower the feather.
He felt the teasing fronds tickling his tender flesh.  At first he thought
it relieved the itch a bit and he couldn't figure why Dudley had bothered
with the powder.  Then he realized that not only had the itching caused him
to loose all control over his hole, but the vigorous puckering and
clenching of that tight entryway was acting like an inward pulling grip on
the feather.  Dudley was only pushing a bit on the quill, Jason was doing
the rest himself.

"Oh no... I'm gonna fuckin' fuck myself with the feather... and I... I
can't stop!"

When the feather was almost all the way in, Dudley started to pull it out.
Jason let forth a very low groan, followed by a breathy whiney giggle.
"Ohhhhh, that tickles," he sighed.

Dudley set up a rhythm, in and out, in and out.  Jason was tossing his head
from side to side, occasionally raising it up to watch.

"Oh man, oh man, oh man, oh man, oh man... oh oh oh
oh... aaahhhhhh... uunnngggghhh... oohhhhh... I... I... oh no, it can't
be... I think... I think I'm gonnnnnaaaaahhhhh..."

Whoosh!  Whoosh!  Whoosh!  Whoosh!  Whoosh!  Whoosh!  Whoosh!  Whoosh!

Eight massive shots of hot steaming cum blasted from Jason's dick, landing
all over the place, including Dudley's moustache.  The Colonel wiped it out
with his handkerchief.

Jason looked up, still recovering.  "I shot my damned load with a feather
in my ass and nothing touchin' my hot dick!  That's fuckin messed up.
Another guy fuckin' fucked a load outta me with a fuckin' feather!  My ass
has been feather-fucked!!!"  His head fell back on the padded platform.

Dudley stood up.  There were splatters of cum on his shirt.  He started
unbuttoning it.  Jason looked over and noticed the Colonel's trim torso.
The Colonel's muscles were not as large and rounded as his own, but his
physique was well-defined, with a dusting of salt-and-pepper hair across
his chest.  He noticed the Colonel had slipped off his shoes and was now
removing his trousers.  He was wearing army-regulation briefs.

As Jason came down from his orgasm, he realized his armpits were still
itching like mad and his nipples seemed to be even more sensitive and
tingly if that was possible.  And his dick!  His dick was still hard!
There had been no friction to soothe the itch there.  Jason marvelled at
this.  Dudley put a pillow behind Jason's head so the muscle-cop could
stare at his perpetual woodie.

Dudley laughed.  "You see how you are going to suffer?  A horniness that
doesn't quit.  A never-ending hard-on.  Ah the pleasures I have lined up
for you, cocksucker!"

"I'm not your fuckin' cocksucker," Jason growled as Dudley sat on his
chest, propping the pillow a bit more so Jason's face was about an inch
from the Colonel's own hard dick.

"Oh really.  I dare you to say that again to my face!" huffed Dudley.

"Read my lips... I am not now, nor will I ever be your
cocksuccckkkkggggggghhhhhmmmmmpppphhhhhhh!!!!!"

"As I was hinting to Burt Clemens, you are not exactly a genius.  As of
now, however, you are a cocksucker."

"MMMMMMMMMMMMPPPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!!"

Jason clenched his hands into fists, he tried snapping his head out of
Dudley's grip.  Nothing worked.  Dudley simply pulled Jason's unwilling
head further and further onto his dick, bringing the stud's nose right into
his pubes and then pulling partway out when Jason gagged a bit.  For
Dudley, this was a walk in the park.  There would be plenty of time for
training later.  For now, he just wanted his dick wet.  Jason whimpered
around the thick rod in his mouth and momentarily in his throat.  He was
frustrated as hell that he couldn't stop wiggling his tongue around the
damned thing.

"Heh heh, for such a stud, you are not very good at this!" Dudley taunted.

Jason creased his brow.  "Thew fukkerrr... awl phow euw whooz phwa
swub... swub...swub!"  Jason couldn't make an 'st' or a 'd' sound with the
fat log in his mouth, but he'd show the Colonel who the damn stud was
around here!  He licked and slobbered vigorously until he heard the Colonel
laughing again.  Then he realized he'd been 'suckered'.

"Oh, so you are a natural at this after all.  I suspected that would be the
case.  We will be doing this a lot, actually every day.  In any case, I'll
sign you up for extra practice with Officer Martino.

Jason whimpered.  His pits really itched.  He couldn't stop flexing the
muscles in his arms, even though they were getting tired.  Dudley took his
right hand off Jason's head and moved it back behind to the stiff and
sensitive tit on Jason's left pec.  Jason's whimper turned into a groan and
he sucked harder.

"There's a good cocksucker," Dudley whispered.

"Aw fukkk..."

Dudley pulled his schlong out of Jason's mouth and patted the stud on the
cheek.  Jason swallowed before he remembered that he had wanted to spit out
the jizz the Colonel had leaked in his mouth.  "Dammit!"

The Colonel repositioned himself between Jason's legs.  He looked at his
saliva-slicked dick, rubbed it a bit and then looked up at Jason.  "You've
done a good job cocksucker, so far as it goes, but I think I'm going to
lube up in any case.  Once Dudley had got his wang ready for action, he
picked up the itching powder and gave Jason's butthole another blast of the
fiendish stuff.  "Hmmm, this is going to be fun for you and me, both!
Prepare for the final phase of 'Project Sergeant Stud-Pussy'."

"NO NO... you turned me into a cocksucker, isn't that enough?  Don't pussy
me, man.  I'm one of the hottest fuckin' studs in this town... you can't
pussy me.  I mean... I've got a duty to the chicks out there.  You can't
put me out of commission.  Look at me man!  I'm handsome, I've got all
these muscles... I'm the fuckin' cock 'a the walk, man, sir...  You tellin'
me that you're gonna turn a guy like me into some fuckin' bottom-boy stud
with a hard dick and a hungry ass?  Man, you'll give me a permanent fuckin'
itch down there.  You can't do that... she-it!  Some guy at the gym gets
hold of my tits and makes me suck his big juicy cock and next thing you
know I'll... I'll be tellin' him to tie me up and fuck my hot hairy
man-cunt.  That'd be... that'd be..."

Dudley picked up the two feathers and went to work on Jason's man-tits.

"Oh yeah...yeah... huh! NO!"

Dudley hadn't failed to notice the way Jason already referred to himself as
a cocksucker.  He leaned over and whispered in Jason's ear, "That'd
be... that'd be... just what you lie awake at night dreaming about.  Guess
what?  You are going to shoot another load while I take your cherry ass.
Sweet Dreams, muscle-cop pussy..."




"Flip ya for the last piece of pizza," Tony said.

"Go on.  You have it," Pete replied.

It was ten o'clock at night.  Pete and Tony were sprawled out on the sofa
with no sign yet of Rick and T...

"Hey, Tony... ha ha... where the fuck are you, musclehead?  Get your hairy
ass in here!" shouted Rick.

"Who's fuckin' car is that?" shouted Tom.

Tony and Pete heard the kitchen door slam closed and then what sounded like
one of the chairs at the kitchen table nearly getting knocked over.  They
got off the sofa and headed for the kitchen.

"There he is, there's our cop.  Hey, just 'cause we were out doesn't mean
you shouldn't have a dildo up your ass and your hands cuffed behind your
back waiting for us," Rick said with a bit of a slur.  "And who the fuck is
this, huh?  Huh, uh, uh, uh, hello, uh, Mr. Dubrowski."

Tom turned around when he heard that name.  "Uh, Mr. Dubrowski, uh, sir,
uh... hi..." Tom stuttered.

Pete Dubrowski had a massive grin on his face.