When Antonov gets arrested by the dreaded KGB, he didn’t know what he was in for. If he’s going to get out of this alive, he’ll have to do whatever Agent Gromov demands of him. Can Antonov make it?!
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A part of Antonov was glad that he was arrested. Of course another part was scared, but he had always known it was a possibility. It wasn’t a bad thing. It might bring a lot of attention to the cause, and it definitely signaled to the media that this was a real movement.
But Antonov wished that everyone got arrested, not just him.
At the time, it seemed great that Antonov was the only one who got arrested. It made him seem like the most serious activist, the one who would get the credit when or if this eventually worked. The police of Moscow were notoriously cruel, but he could handle a few weeks in prison. He was glad to do it to prove his devotion to the cause of spreading democracy in Russia.
Before his arrest, the protest went about as well as Antonov could have hoped. A lot of people showed up, and Antonov caused a big scene that got him arrested in front of all the television cameras. That made him seem like a big player in the movement now. He wouldn’t be surprised if he was offered an organizing job by one of the international organizations that had helped to set up the protest.
The adrenaline in his veins only died down when Antonov was led away from the police station proper and into a small, unmarked building next door to it. There, he was handcuffed to a chair in a large open office area. It was windowless, crowded with plainclothes men smoking cigarettes, and it stank of sweat and fear. Rowdy conversation dominated at the desks and in the conference rooms attached to the precinct floor.
On one side of the room, burly, hairy men in handcuffs were led into the jail that was near Antonov. From his vantage point, he could see down the hall and into the rows of cells when the door to the jail opened. In there, men sobbed out loud, and the sound of someone vomiting echoed out into the police station. There was the occasional sound of flesh on flesh — a fight, most likely, which none of the officers here seemed eager to stop. He shuddered in fear.
I shouldn’t have been so confident. The Moscow police aren’t just cruel and strict. They’re corrupt. They hurt people just to send a message to others.
Antonov gulped. That was one of the reasons he shouldn’t have been happy to be the only protester arrested — if lots of them had been arrested, the chances that any one would be beaten up to set an example for the others was minimal. If it was just Antonov, then they were going to treat him the way they wanted the protesters to fear they would be treated if arrested.
That’s when Antonov saw the sign on the door next to the one leading to the jail. He had to crane his head around to read it: ‘agents of the KGP only’ was printed in neat Cyrilic on the frosted door window. It surely didn’t mean anything that they handcuffed him to a chair near the KGP office.
His dread grew as he became more and more suspicious that he was indeed placed near the KGB door because that was where he was going, whenever they were ready. He watched the other officers bring men in, process them and take them into the jail in just a few minutes, and doing so did not involve handcuffing them to a chair.
So why was Antonov placed here?
His dread turned into quakes of fear when a man in a fine suit came out from the KGB door. He undid the handcuffs attaching Antonov to the chair, and he motioned, with a dour, flat face, for Antonov to come with him.
Stonefacing the best he could, Antonov followed instructions. He followed the officer — Gromov — into the KGP officer, where a dozen or so other men stood around as though they were waiting for Antonov. Antonov avoided eye contact with all of them.
The officer Gromov asked Antonov a litany of basic questions: name, birthdate, birthplace, how did you come to Moscow today? Antonov did not asnwer any of them aside from his name and birthdate. That was all they needed to know.
“Do you have any money?” asked Officer Gromov. “You have been assessed a fine for disorderly conduct and for acting in an inappropriate way in public. You have brought shame upon this country. So we are charging you a fine.” He and the others snickered, suggesting this fine was really a bribe. Officer Gromov would keep it all for himself. “You must pay it to me. Now.”
Antonov shook his head. “No way. I am a prisoner of conscience-“
“I do not care about that. You have a fine to pay. If you are too much of a deadbeat to pay now, you must have to work it off,” Officer Gromov said. His face remained stony, his broadly muscled body looming above and in front of Antonov. He unzipped the slacks of his suit, and he withdrew from the fly a fat uncircumcised cock. “Go on, put your mouth upon it,” Officer Gromov said.
“Protest that, weakling!”
Antonov shook his head. He didn’t think he could bring himself to taste a dick no matter what. He pursed his lips closed. Tears welled up in his eyes, but Antonov tried not to cry. He hoped the officers didn’t notice.
“Make him into your bitch, Gromov!” Someone threw a pair of dirty shoes at Antonov, old ragged shoes like they had been confiscated off a hobo . Antonov blushed and tried not to look at the other officers. He told himself he just needed to get out of this with Gromov. Ignore the others.
It was hard to ignore the pit of humiliation burning within though.
Officer Gromov smiled at him, and he laughed with the other KGB officers. That made Gromov’s cock jiggle and sway afront Antonov’s face.
The other officers scattered around the room leaned back in their seats and smoked their cigarettes, which filled the air with a haze and the bitter smell of imported tobacco. Antonov realized with a jolt of fear that they were expecting a show — they wanted Gromov to entertain them by making Antonov put his mouth on Gromov’s ugly, barbaric, veiny cock, which was bigger than any dick Antonov had ever seen. It was long and fleshy, and Gromov waved it around in front of Antonov’s face. It smelled like funk and sweat and semen and piss, and Antonov gagged at the thought of putting it in his mouth.
“You will not swallow it?”
“No way!” Antonov shouted. “I have the right to protest. You aren’t allowed to do this to me! I’m not your pussy!” He felt sure this would get him some respect — maybe they were just doing this as a test. Maybe he could earn Gromov’s respect by refusing to give in.
But the other officers sneered at him as though they had expected him to open up, and they peppered him with jeers and old sandwich wrappers from the garbage cans by their desks.
“You will be a pussy! You will be my pussy!” shouted Officer Gromov. He nodded for two younger KGB officers to come forward, and they took Antonov by the handcuffed arms and threw him against a wall. Antonov’s head collided with the wall, sending an onrush of pain down his body. He was dizzy, and he staggered back.
“Please, stop!” Antonov couldn’t believe this. He was supposed to be a martyr for the cause — he had expected to spend time in prison, not… this. Nobody would respect him for being arrested if it led to him being less of a man, being treated as Gromov’s whore.
Officer Gromov smiled as he played with his dick between his fingers. It was so big and meaty enough it almost hurt when he flopped it against Antonov’s face. Antonov realized that that must have been why these KGB officers had Officer Gromov do this — he had a huge cock. They had chosen the horse-cocked cop to teach a lesson to Antonov, who shook as he fought against his attackers.
“Make him your bitch!”
One of the KGB officers got behind Antonov and pinned his limbs, while the other gripped his nostrils until he couldn’t help but open his mouth. Then at least two KGB officers gripped his chin and cheeks, forcing his jaws apart. Tears streamed from Antonov’s eyes as Officer Gromov flopped his big uncut dick in front of Antonov’s face.
“Will you bite me? If you bite me, I will gut you like a dog,” Officer Gromov said. His beard jiggled as he spoke, and he licked his lips.
“Woof! Woof!” The other cops were acting like dogs now, on all fours and barking, growling, pawing at him like a feral canine.
“Yes! I’ll bite you, I don’t care what you do!” Antonov shouted out of pure instinct. Since his mouth was propped open, however, none of his words were clearly intelligible. Officer Gromov and the others seemed to get the gist of it though.
“I guess we’ll need to get the device,” Officer Gromov said with a laugh.
“The device! The face-rammer! The bitch-maker!”
Officer Gromov grinned at Antonov’s sweaty, reddened face, on which he wiped his greasy cockshaft. He didn’t seem to mind touching Antonov’s scruffy beard, as he wiped his dick over Antonov’s lips and cheeks. He didn’t stick it in, however, until another officer returned with a primitive looking dental device. They shoved it in his mouth, and sharp pincers prevented him from closing his mouth all the way. It was arduously painful, and it made Antonov choke.
As his jaw opened, the device didn’t let it close, so the more Antonov struggled, the more it hurt. Eventually he could do nothing but fall limp. It felt like his jaw was on the verge of shattering, and Antonov didn’t want to fight back for fear of actually breaking it.
“Open it!”
“Pay that fine, bitch!”
“If you can not pay me, you will be my oral bitch, my mouth slut,” Officer Gromov said with a sneer. He flexed his biceps beneath his tight-fitting suit. He spat into Antonov’s open mouth, dark eyes drilling into Antonov’s — he tried to close his eyes, but they pinched his nipples until he opened them. “Look me in the eye when I pluck your manhood.”
His dick pushed right past Antonov’s lips, and when Antonov tasted the sweaty, coppery taste, he gagged profusely. He sputtered, unable to even spit because of all the KGB officers holding him down and the device keeping his mouth open.
That meant that the fluids generated by Officer Gromov’s throating splashed and frothed, spilling over the sides of Antonov’s lips and coating his face. Antonov retched loudly with each stab of Officer Gromov’s massive meat down his gullet.
“Make him your bitch! Make him your cockpig!”
The taste was even worse than Antonov had thought it would be. It was like an old gym sock that had both stale and fresh sweat soaked into it. The flavor of precum was even worse, salty and sour. It made Antonov’s throat cringe.
“See what this is? This is a deadbeat. This is how we treat deadbeats.”
Antonov couldn’t see who said that, but he could hear a wave of rough, lower-class men bursting into a mix of laughter, rage and terror. The officers must have brought other criminals into this room. His eyes were blinded by the spit the officers kept plopping onto his face, but he could tell they were using him as a lesson for other criminals. He was being used this way to scare others into paying their fines — or their bribes, or both, as it often seemed there was no difference between a fine and a bribe in Soviet Russia.
Officer Gromov pumped his hips, slamming his cock into the back of Antonov’s throat. He cackled as Antonov choked.
“You’re no man anymore,” Officer Gromov said, and the other KGB officers laughed along with him.
“Choke on it, weakling!”
Then he gripped Antonov by the hair and violently throated him, with no pause — he slammed his hips in, grinding his dick deep into Antonov’s throat like he wanted to make Antonov retch as violently as possible. A painful wretch escaped from Antonov’s mouth. He choked and sputtered. His balls slammed against Antonov’s beard, leaving a layer of filthy sweat and sac-hairs clinging to Antonov’s furry chin.
“Fine, I’ll pay! I’ll pay! I’ll pay both fines!”
The other criminals were falling all over themselves to pay up now. Antonov could hear the KGB officers laughing at it as they collected money. Antonov realized then that he wasn’t even blocked from view from the outside. Anyone who walked by the building and looked through the window would be able to see that something was happening. They wouldn’t be able to see Antonov’s face easily, but they might have figured out who it was.
In any case, with a dozen KGB agents and probably just as many criminals and local cops, somebody was no doubt going to identify Antonov. Everybody was going to know about this, and Antonov would never be able to live it down. He thought he would never feel clean again.
His nose pressed into Officer Gromov’s hairy crotch. It stank and Antonov’s lungs cried out for air. He writhed, trying to escape the grip of the KGB officers holding him down — he was surprised to see that they didn’t care about getting Officer Gromov’s precum onto them. Great wads of spit and precum plopped out of Antonov’s mouth over and over, landing on the other KGB officers’s hands, arms, chest and even face — none of them seemed to notice. All they cared about was making sure Antonov swallowed every inch of rampaging dickmeat.
When Officer Gromov finally pulled his cock out and even took that device off so Antonov could breathe, all Antonov could do was cough up a slimy ball of spit that landed on the ground. Then his whole body undulated as he gagged up again and again, until his throat was sore. The onlookers — police officers, KGB agents and arrested criminals alike — all laughed and shouted jeers, but Antonov didn’t hear their words. His attention was focused on his cringing humiliation and the suffocating agony in his chest.
“Beg him, boy! Beg him to go easy on you!”
Through his tear-clouded eyes, Antonov saw that there was a criminal snickering as he walked past Antonov. A bunch more waited to be processed, or they might have even been recent releasees who were invited to watch Antonov’s ruination. They all looked at him like they both pitied and despised him, like a stray dog they were about to beat to death.
“You deadbeat, you can not pay your fines,” Officer Gromov said, for the benefit of the criminals — so they’d know how to avoid this same fate. He clucked his tongue against his teeth and flopped his rock-hard cock onto Antonov’s face. “Kiss it.”
Antonov blushed but did as he was told. He kissed the cockshaft on his face, which made him gag in both disgust and humiliation. He felt it pulsating with his tongue on the veiny shaft.
Then at Officer Gromov’s direction, Antonov said through his gasps and tears, “Your cock… is superior… to mine. I worship your meat, Officer Gromov… I will never disobey your cock!”
“Filthy bitch! Disgusting pitiful little maggot!”
Then, with Antonov still heaving for air, Officer Gromov pried his mouth apart again. The other KGB officers held Antonov’s squirming body down until he could not resist parting his lips once again. Every fiber of Antonov’s being told him to fight.
But he could do little more than writhe. He wanted to bite down, but he wasn’t sure he could even do that with men holding his mouth open — in any case, he knew the punishment would be severe and would almost certainly end in his death. The dental device was on the floor now, but Antonov knew he wouldn’t bite. After losing any respect he might have had, there was no point in fighting back now. They’d beat him, and Antonov would still be known as a man’s bitch.
So he just submitted. He opened his mouth as wide as it could go, and he sobbed as that salty rod of meat pushed down his throat again. He loudly gagged, which made the KGB officers all cheer. One of them even scooped up all the spit and precum that dripped off Antonov’s chin and smeared it over Antonov’s face.
“Open your eyes,” Officer Gromov barked. He didn’t give Antonov a chance to do it, he simply pulled Antonov’s eyelids apart. “I want to see your manhood drain away as I fill it up with my cum.” He laughed and spat on Antonov, again and again, plopping huge stinky loogeys all over Antonov’s sobbing face.
Antonov’s head swam after Officer Gromov punched him in the gut. He was too dizzy to resist as he was led to a table in the center of the KGB office. A bunch of intake papers were shoved off the table and onto the floor, while Antonov’s pants were torn down.
That left his ass bare.
“You will be pussy, bitch!”
“Make him your whore!”
“No!” Antonov screamed and panted, desperate for oxygen now that his mouth was empty. But he couldn’t bare to have his asshole rammed, he thought. He’d rather kill himself. “Please, don’t! I have a wife, and sons!”
“Your sons will have no father,” Officer Gromov said. He lifted Antonov’s feet in the air, baring his cheeks and forcing them apart. “Just a bitch for a second mother.”
“They will weep to be sired by such a bitch! We will make sure they know! We will make sure your neighbors know!”
Then a flood of pain hit Antonov’s ass as Officer Gromov’s cock pushed into him. Antonov screamed so loud it could be heard throughout the building, and the inmates there, those who weren’t brought to watch, variously either shivered in fear or stood with great interest to see if they could catch a glimpse of the ramrodding in-progress. They all knew the kinds of things the KGB did to protesters.
His dick tore and ripped into Antonov’s ass, and Antonov squirmed beneath the muscular, uniformed arms of the other officers. More and more KGB officers had come to watch, and now the hallway was choked with men in suits and police uniforms, leering and screaming, some of them even masturbating as they watched.
“Ram him! Ram him, Gromov! Make him your bitch!”
“You like that cock? You want to protest that? Protest away, bitch!”
All of a sudden another wad of cum appeared on Antonov’s face, then another. He couldn’t believe they were masturbating — how could they get off on watching this? Not even participating, but just watching?
But he couldn’t form any words even if his mouth wasn’t choked with cumwads. It was thick and creamy like boogers, and Antonov thought there might be mucus from someone’s nose in the mix. He couldn’t see anyway, and all he could hear was his own sobs. The KGB officers around him formed a circle, dicks in hand, those who hadn’t cum yet.
None of them had dicks as long or as thick as Officer Gromov, but they were mostly pretty big. One by one they popped off, filling his open mouth with their humiliated wads of cream. Each load they sprayed over Antonov’s mouth and cheeks tasted even worse than the last.
“Destroy him! Cover him with so much cum his mother won’t recognize him!”
“Your wife will never have respect for you now!”
Finally Officer Gromov held up his hand for silence. The other KGB officers gradually fell silent, and they smiled as Officer Gromov groaned.
“I am ready to pluck his manhood,” Officer Gromov said with a groan. “He is my pussy now.”
Even the watching inmates were quiet, watching with hushed expressions and grim faces. The only sound was Officer Gromov’s moist humping, the gurgling sound made by his massive prick sliding into Antonov’s tight hole. A wave of pain and intense pressure rocked him, and Antonov squirmed in shame all over again. He could feel the humiliation on his body like the layer of saliva (both his own and the KGB officers’s) that covered his skin. That thin mask of fluids crawled like foul bugs, the nastiness seeping into his skin.
Then a spurt of hot cum hit Antonov, who was flush and covered in tears. A fresh sob erupted deep within him, and Antonov tried to bury his cum-streaked face. But the KGB officers didn’t let him — they made him keep his face bare so everyone who watched this on video would know who it was.
“We will put this on the Internet, so everyone who was at that protest will know what happens when we see them again. We will arrest everyone and treat them like you. We do not tolerate lawbreaking, and we do not tolerate deadbeats.”
“Take my nut, bitch!” Officer Gromov barked, making Antonov squeal, squirm and clench down hard on his asshole. Gromov moaned, his massive muscles flexing and relaxing, back and forth with such intensity it seemed he might break the stitching on his too-tight uniform. His cock rammed in and out of Antonov’s with long, powerful strokes.
The cum filled Antonov up inside. It was hot and sticky, and Antonov thought he would forever feel it within him. Officer Gromov waited until his cock had spewed every drop of cum and started growing limp then let it flop out. A big frothy ball of cum slipped out at the same time.
“You’re going to taste your own whorishness. Bitch.”
Officer Gromov grabbed that ass-slime and cum mixture with his fingers. He groaned at how disgusting it was, but wiped it off on Antonov’s face as the other KGB officers cheered. By then Antonov’s mouth was inured to the foul flavor, or maybe it tasted so similar to the body fluids already on his face that Antonov didn’t taste it too much. He slathered his tongue up and down Gromov’s sensitive cockshaft, slurping up the jizz and assjuice that clung to it.
Then they all just walked away. They left Antonov there on the table, his body sore, blushing as the inmates chanted insults at him. He stood on wobbly legs.
Had they just abandoned him? Maybe they considered the ramming to be punishment enough, he thought. He hadn’t paid the fine, so they rammed him and now he could go. Maybe, he thought, I should leave the country. I could go to Britain. No one will judge me for this there.
But when he recovered enough to look up, Officer Gromov was there with his arms crossed over his chest. He pointed to the door to the jail.
“What are you doing? You go in there, bitch.”
“What?”
“You owe a fine. You will live in the jail and get rammed by anyone who wants to. They will pay you money if they feel you deserve it. Once you make enough to pay off your fine, we will let you go,” he said. “But you will also have to pay for food and water. So you had better start making money.”
Antonov wept. “Please… won’t you pay…?”
“Me? No,” he said. “I do not pay, not unless you were very good at being my pussy. And you were not. You will must practice.”
Antonov cried as he returned to the jail. He wanted to get back to his family — assuming they would not reject him — and to get to the United Kingdom, so that meant he was going to need to start making some money.
First things first, he thought, I need to figure out which of the inmates in here might have some money. Then I can get paid. He trembled as he tried to clean his face off. His throat was sore, but no matter. It was only good for one thing now.
