undressing – Mansploitation

The Roughneck

Avery is a masseuer who occasionally lands a taste of a roughneck from an oil rig, but when Dog Barren comes in, he didn’t think Dog was interested. Dog even says he’d never let a man get with him on the downlow…

But then all rules are off when Dog turns out to really need the sweet, sweet release of Avery’s twink body!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

Avery swept up his massage room — or his “office”, as he and the other masseurs called it — with an old splintery broom. It had been a slow day, a bunch of old men who wanted handjobs, which Avery was not willing to give, and one lady who needed a genuine massage for medical reasons.
That was Avery’s job. As a certified massage therapist, he dealt with both people hoping he was a prostitute as well as people who needed massages to help with muscle soreness, stiffness or joint pain. It wasn’t a great career, but Avery loved it. He enjoyed the people, the independence — he made his own hours — and perhaps most of all, he loved the men. Not the old men who wanted handjobs, the more rare but rewarded stately, elegant and handsome types. They sometimes asked for handjobs and even more, and as a great admirer of the male form, Avery tried to oblige. No oldies, fatties, losers or stinkwads.
“Hey,” came a deep, solid voice like a taut length of sissel rope.
Avery turned around and was flustered to see a white man with dark skin, tattoos creeping up his neck, his weathered face craggy and worn. He had ropy muscles and long limbs. He was alluring, in a dangerous-drifter kind of way. He had the presence of a silent thundercloud, and he smelled like leather oil.
But he didn’t — this man seemed to be a roughneck. He probably worked at one of the oil rigs outside of town. Those men were rough-and-tumble, crude, rude, mean, often violent. They sometimes came in for massages because they were required to try that first before worker’s compensation would pay them anything for pain relief after an on-the-job accident. But they rarely came in for a second massage. Mostly they were just trying to get worker’s comp or were working a pain doctor for opiate prescriptions and needed to prove they gave massage a try.
“Oh hello, my name is Avery, welcome to Thackenswitch Massage Parlor. What kind of services are you looking for today?”
“Uh… What? I ain’t nevuh done this before.” The dowdy roughneck blushed, which was barely visible because he was so tan.
Avery nodded and waited for the roughneck to say something else. When nothing else proved forthcoming, Avery added, “Are you here for a worker’s comp claim?”
“Nah.”
“Okay,” Avery said. This roughneck seemed like the kind who normally brimmed with confidence and bravado but now came across as nervous. He had that walking-callus thickness that roughnecks get — from the vibrations — everything on oil rigs vibrate — like you could just tell his hands were gonna be leathery. Avery could tell without looking he’d have thick sausagey fingers. “What, uh…? Well, do you have pain? Is that why you came here? You want me to help you with some back pain or something like that?”
“No. I just… I been tense, man. That’s all.”
Avery smiled. “I see. Alright.” He sensed there was more to the roughneck’s motivations, but Avery didn’t know what question to ask. “Why don’t you take off your clothes? Just hop up on the table, and we’ll get started.”
He lifted his t-shirt off over his head. His chest was not exactly muscular, it was toned, worked, wiry, plenty of strength but not a lot of bulk, like he would have been a lot bigger and more chiseled, but he didn’t eat enough protein, so the muscles he had strained to fit within his sun-burnished skin. He chewed on his lower lip.
“What’s your name, sir?” Avery asked as the roughneck took off his heavy boots, which were caked with dust and mud.
“Dog.”
“Dog?”
He nodded like that was totally normal. He hesitated before undoing the belt on his jeans, which were filthy and stained. “Dog Barren.” He undid the belt, but he didn’t lower his jeans.
“It’s okay. If you want me to help you, I need to be able to massage your thighs, even your butt,” Avery said. He gulped. This man looked potentially violent. Maybe he should have just started with a backrub.
It looked like Dog didn’t really trust Avery either. He stood there, belt undone so he held his overly baggy jeans up with one mitteny hand.
“Nah. I ain’t worried ‘bout that,” he said. “I work at the oil rig. I shower wit’ men e’ry day. Ain’t concerned ‘bout no man seein’ me in my all-togethuh. Just… I ain’t sure, y’know…” He took a deep breath and dropped his jeans. He pulled down his boxer shorts and hopped up onto the table. His hoggish fat prick swung between his legs.
Avery suspected Dog would relax once the massage began. Men like him weren’t used to being touched in a gentle, non-sexual way. He wasn’t the kind of man you want to hug. So Avery got some oil on his hands and got to work. Dog’s shoulders were meaty and dully tattooed — his tattoos were hard to see because his skin was so tan — his shoulder-meat broad, rippling beneath Avery’s fingertips. He laid on his belly, moving with the grace of an oafier man, like he was not used to being noticed.
“So, Dog, how long have you been working at the oil rig?”
“Thirteen years. Reckon.”
“Wow, you like it?”
“Nah. Just a job, y’know. I ain’t cut out for other kind of jobs.”
Avery’s hands moved down to Dog’s wiry thighs, which had barely any fat on them at all. He could see Dog’s hairy ballsac and his heavy balls between his legs, but Avery’s eyes were drawn to his asscheeks instead. Dog had nice plump cheeks, just a bit hairy and the face of an angry woman tattooed on one side.
“Is this tattoo…?”
“She my ex-wide. She’s a total cunt. I hate that bitch,” Dog said, his voice still flat and flinty, like his throat was made of charcoal.
“I see.”
“She tol’ the police I hit her, but I ain’t hit her ‘cept this one time, that weren’t the time she called the cops. So that was a lie, yeah? Judge say I gotta pay that bitch alley-money, I ain’t pay her nothing, I don’t even care,” he said with a snort that made his asscheeks jiggle..
Avery worked his hands down Dog’s wiry-muscled legs. “Don’t you get in trouble for not paying it?”
Dog shrugged. “Just gotta go to jail for a little bit. Ain’t so bad.”
“Roll over,” Avery said.
Dog hesitated before doing so. He sucked in his breath and rolled over. Avery saw why he was reluctant to do so — Dog had a hard-on. It wasn’t fully erect, but his fat cock was firm and it stuck up. It looked like he had extra dickskin, Avery thought and had to suppress a giggle, like when you rubbed his cock, even fully hard, it would feel like a lot of dickskin under his hand. Avery liked that. He really wanted to touch it.
“Sorry ’bout the stiffy, man, I ain’t no kinda pervert or nothin’, sometimes I don’t got control over it,” Dog said. “I ain’t had no female for a minute. That’s all.”
“No worries,” Avery said. He bit his lip and cleared his throat. “You seem stressed and anxious.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I can help with that,” Avery said. He wrapped one hand around Dog’s dick, which twitched and throbbed its way to full erection in his hand. Avery smiled. Dog gasped. He lifted his head up. but kept the rest of his body laying flat on the massage table.
Dog looked down at his own cock like he didn’t recognize it. His eyes narrowed to slits. He bit his lip. He closed his eyes, then opened them, then covered them with one dusky forearm, which had the word J-E-S-U-S-C-H-R-I-S-T tattooed in Gothic letters down the underside of it.
With just a few seconds of stroking, Dog’s dick was rock-hard. Its veiny shaft pulsated beneath Avery’s grasp. Avery slid his hand up and down it slowly at first as he checked whether Dog was willing to do this.
He did indeed have a lot of dickskin. Avery again had to suppress a giggle at that.
“I ain’t into no kinda pervert or nothin’,” Dog said again. He kept his head up, but as he watched, he also lifted up his shoulders and upper body, which he supported on his elbows. He growled at Avery and ran his fingers through his dense wad of hair.
His face remained stoic, like he was still apologetic about the stiffy but was stonefacing about Avery giving him a handjob. He licked his teeth.
“Okay.” Avery didn’t stop jacking him off, and Dog didn’t complain.
“You look like a girl.” His voice was gravelly and rough, abrasive like sandpaper in Avery’s ear. It was deeper than seemed reasonable too, considering that Dog was not a big person. He snorted and closed his eyes again, but just like before, it lasted only a few seconds, like he was too nervous to be without sight for long.
“That’s, uh… Yeah.”
He still looked down at his cock in Avery’s hand as though he had nothing to do with it and didn’t know what was happening to it. “Gimme ya hand.” He took Avery’s hand off his cock, then hocked up a big mouthful of spit and spat it into the palm of Avery’s hand. Then he brought it back to his dick. The newly moist texture of Avery’s skin was apparently enough for Dog, who groaned and leaned his head back.
“Can I put my mouth on it?” Avery asked, not sure if Dog would tolerate that.
“Nah. That’s that nasty shit. I said I wasn’t into that. I ain’t in prison,” Dog said, his eyes narrowing to slits. His face turned from shock and shame to menace and danger. His dick pulsated in Avery’s grasp. A few drops of precum leaked out the piss-slit, and Avery eyed them hungrily.
Was he really going to stick to just a handjob? Some roughnecks were like that. There was a whole gaggle of Muslims last year who insisted on handjobs and only handjobs. Their imam brought them every week. But Avery had never met a white American like that.
Wonder what happened in prison to make him not want to do it…
“Okay, no problem.” Avery was disappointed. He didn’t love the idea of just giving a handjob, and that precum looked salty and fresh and delicious as his hand stroked it into a creamy smear coating the upper third of his dickshaft.
But it seemed that was all Dog was willing to allow. So he just kept stroking, both hands now. Dog’s warm spit sliding between his fingers and coating his hand. Avery spat on his own hand. Maybe it was coincidence, but the moment after he spat, Dog’s cock throbbed in his hand, and Dog’s pecs rippled. It was the body language of a gasp, but Avery didn’t hear a gasp.
“You can kiss it.” Dog threw his head back and maybe gasped at last, or maybe he just grunted or licked his teeth, Avery couldn’t tell because he threw his head back.
Avery smiled. He thought he knew where this was going. He kissed Dog’s cock on the tip, right on the piss-slit, and he made sure to generate a mouthful of saliva that ran down the shaft. The musk and zest of Dog’s precum and his dickmeat and both his and Avery’s spit flooded Avery’s senses, and he noisily slurped up all the fluids that remained. Then he gently spat them back out to coat his fat cock.
The contact, or maybe the noise, made Dog squirm. The veins in his dick nearly jumped right out of his body and into Avery’s hand, which still moved slowly up and down. Dog began moving his hips, humping Avery’s hand with his cock, though his face remained stony like he was unaware he was doing it.
“Thanks for letting me kiss it,” Avery said. “I’ll just finish the handjob-“
“That weren’t no kiss. A cock-kiss got tongue, man. Use a little tongue. Do not jerk me off wit’cha mouth, I ain’t that kinda ex-con..”
Avery nodded. He lowered his head again, planted his lips right on the tip of Dog’s cock and kissed it. This time he did it loudly, flickering his tongue out and smearing more spit all over it. That taste assaulted his tongue again, and Avery kissed a trail down the shaft to Dog’s cockroot. He hefted Dog’s hairy ballsac in one, looking up at him to see if he’d object. He did not.
Dog shuddered and grunted, the sound turning from aroused to angry as he jabbed his fists into the air. He roared. He nearly hyperventilated, as another burst of precum flowed from his knob. Avery slurped it up — his lips still pursed like a kiss, so he was, as far as Avery was concerned, still abiding by Dog’s limits.
“Dog? I want to swallow your cum,” Avery said. He figured it was time to end the charade and just say what he meant. He smiled sweetly up at Dog, who bristled, his upper lip twitching like Elvis — he liked to be flattered, Avery suspected. “You have a perfect cock. It’s so big, and you’re so strong. I want you so bad. Please let me swallow your cum.”
“Fine, but only cuz you beggin’ so bad, man,” he said. He scoffed. “You pitiful.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “No way I’m puttin’ it in your ass though. Don’t even ask ‘bout that.”
There was something in the way he said that that made Avery think he meant the opposite. He sounded like he could and perhaps wanted to be talked into ramming Avery in the ass, almost as easily as he had been talked into letting Avery swallow his cum.
“Will you ram my face, please? You can pretend my throat is a pussy,” Avery asked. He blushed and deep-throated Dog’s dick without waiting for a response. “I’m good at that.” He smacked his lips. “Real good, I can swallow-“
Dog grunted and wrapped his hands around Avery’s head and started to grind, shoving his cock deep into Avery’s throat. He moved like he didn’t notice he was interrupting Avery. That musty taste, like his cock had been cooped up in those workjeans for weeks, made Avery croon around the meat in his throat. It tasted so good his hands reached all the way up Dog’s body and to tweak the nipples atop his rippling taut pecs. Dog groaned as though this was scratching an itch he had been unable to reach for a long time.
All of his muscles flexed as he throated down Avery, who was indeed an expert at swallowing huge cocks — he was fine with it, loving the struggle as his throat cried out for oxygen. He loved it even more when Dog’s legs rested atop Avery’s shoulders, as though putting him in some kind of cock-handling chokehold. He used those wiry legs to pin Avery’s head in place, while Dog’s hands pushed his head down to the root of his fat cock.
A burst of precum or maybe an initial foray of jizz flowed down Avery’s throat. The taste was salty and creamy, and it tasted so good Avery gurgled even as it made him choke and gag some more. A big ball of spit and fluids slipped out past his lips and soaked Dog’s pubic hair.
“Ah, shit, yeah,” Dog murmured. His hands stroked Avery’s scalp through his hair. His muscles tensed and flexed. Avery’s hands moved up to Dog’s chest, caressing his pectorals and rubbing his shoulders. Dog grumbled. “I ain’t gonna ram you, man.”
Avery just smiled and nodded without taking Dog’s cock out of his throat. He let it squeeze down his neck, and he sputtered as it sprayed its seed down his gullet. Avery still couldn’t decide if it was precum or real jizz. Dog’s moaning voice broke like it was cum, but then he took his dick out and it was still hard. More precum flowed from the piss-slit in pulses though, Dog groaning each time like he was holding back an orgasm.
“Get up,” Dog said, his deep voice echoing in the massage room. “Lay on your back.”
It was clear he was about to ram Avery in the ass, no matter what he said just a few seconds ago. Avery smiled and wiped spit off his face. “Okay. Will you be gentle? You’re such a big man, you could hurt me. Please don’t hurt me too bad?”
Dog glowered. “I ain’t say I was gonna ram you. I don’t do that.” He took a deep breath. “I won’t hurtcha too bad. You ain’t as bad a bitch as my ex-wife and I ain’t nevuh hurt her, so you be okay, man. Just get on yer back.”
Avery loved getting it up the ass as roughly as possible. So he wasn’t worried about that situation. He actually liked the idea of making Dog work for it, especially now with his dick raging, demanding attention.
“Have you ever done a man up the ass?”
“Nah,” Dog said. “I rammed this fellah in the ass in the shower once, but don’t ask me ‘bout that. It was an accident. It don’t proper count. I ain’t never booty bandit no bitch though. Don’t say I did, I ain’t like that. Couple times I did. Only when I had to. It don’t count, you can’t count it.”
“Okay,” Avery said with a grin. He laid on his back on the massage table, lifting his feet in the air. Dog placed Avery’s feet on his shoulder muscles, so Avery could grip his flesh with his toes — and, Avery thought, so he couldn’t run away.
A frown appeared on Dog’s face as he lowered his knees a little to line his cock up with Avery’s ass. He looked away but guided his dick in with one hand.
A burst of intense pressure hit Avery’s senses. He moaned. The pain was overwhelming at first, but it lasted only a moment before he felt a wave of pleasure, dim and dismal at first. It grew, however, with each thrust of Dog’s dick inside him. Dog grunted as though each thrust hurt, but then he grunted again on the outswing of his thrust as though it felt so good he was melting.
Dog kept his head to the side, looking at the wall. He held his breath when he encountered resistance in Avery. Avery’s fingers tightened into claws that dug into the cushion of the massage table, while Dog inexorably pushed his dick in deeper, inch by inch.
“You got nice, pretty toes like a little girl.” Dog said with a long, low groan. Avery’s feet were still propped up on Dog’s shoulders, Avery’s toes curling up and gripping his flesh. Dog picked up one of Avery’s feet and sucked on the big toe, the taste of which made him shudder. His muscles flexed and his dick throbbed within Avery’s ass.
As Avery’s hand finally reached his own cock to start jacking off, he felt a surge of pleasure emanating up his spine from his sensitive prostate. It tingled, growing more alive and awake with every touch from Dog’s dicktip exploring his insides.
Dog moved his hips in a slow circle like he needed to tickle Avery in some hard-to-reach cranny of his body. Dog groaned, licking Avery’s foot and sucking on his toes, which made Avery giggle like a schoolgirl.
Avery’s free hand roamed up to Dog’s chest, where he teased those powerful pecs — they weren’t big, but Avery could tell how strong Dog’s work-toned body really was. Dog reacted like it hurt when Avery touched his nipples, and he howled like his namesake.
Avery’s orgasm came on slowly, bit by bit, but he could feel it growing as Dog continued to hump. He could feel it coming from Dog too, in his breathing speeding up, his face turning slightly reddish and then, at last, his balls crawling up in his sac.
In the end Avery shot his load just a few seconds before Dog, the intense pleasure that rocketed through his body being enough for Avery to clench down on Dog’s dick. That caused Dog to shake and grunt so loud it made the framed pictures on the wall rattle.
“Gonna shoot my babies up in you now, girl… You best not get pregnant…” Dog closed his eyes and wrinkled his nose.
A burst of hot, creamy cum sprayed within Avery, whose entire body tensed around Dog’s dick. The most mind-numbing pleasure of his life assaulted Avery, making him squirm and wiggle on the dick his ass was impaled on. He squealed like a piglet and roared like a jaguar, all while slithering down on Dog’s dick like a snake.
Dog didn’t slow down. He wrapped both of Avery’s legs in his arms, holding them tight so Avery couldn’t do anything more than submit. He kept slamming his dick in slowly but deeply, wiggling it around as he took a deep breath and watched Avery writhe.
He kept on going, moving slower and slower but still jamming his dick in, even as it finally grew limp. Dog rattled and shook. His cock made a big frothy mess of bubbly cum inside Avery, spilling out down his thighs.
“Yer ass is nasty,” Dog said with a leering smile, like he was proud of having made it so “nasty”.
Avery crooned and groaned. He bucked as a wave of sensitive prostate-stimulation hit him. He squirmed, his ass now exquisite and tingling, sensations too potent for him to cope with as Dog moved around inside him.
“I won’t nevuh kiss a man,” Dog said, his entire body suddenly still. “Nuh-uh. No way.”
“Okay…” Avery’s voice was tight and clipped. Dog’s dick was still in his ass, his feet were still bundled up and squeezed between Dog’s arms. He could have squirmed away if he’d really wanted to, but the intensity of Dog’s manhood in his ass made Avery want to stay, and besides that, every movement he took caused uncontrollable waves of painful ecstasy to erupt in his ass.
“You gonna seduce me?” Dog asked.
“Uh…” Avery’s mind was too overwhelmed to think of a real response. All he could do was gasp and croon as though on the edge of tears.
Then without a second though, Dog dived his head down and kissed Avery passionately, sloppily, moistly, right on the lips. Their tongues collided in Avery’s mouth.
With his dick finally flopping out of Avery’s ass, tremendous relief flooded him. It was like a second little post-orgasm orgasm, which a burst of pleasure hitting him all over again. He groaned into Dog’s mouth. He flopped limply, submitting to Dog’s kiss and his rough, callused fingers caressing Avery’s body.
Then at last, and all at once, Dog backed off. He frowned at Avery. He flopped his dick between his fingers and wiped it off with a tissue.
“You seduced me,” he said, his eyes narrowing to slits.
“Uh… Not really. I-“
“Shush,” Dog said. “I don’t nevuh ram men, you best believe that. You believe that?!” He paused. “Huh?!”
“Well… Yeah. I believe it,” Avery said.
Avery sat up, dizzy now that that was over. He hadn’t been rammed that good in a long time. He was still scared, not sure where Dog was taking this.
Dog paused. He bristled and slowly put his clothes on. He ignored Avery the entire time. Only after he had put his shirt back on and tied his heavy boots did he glance in Avery’s direction. “You gonna be around in a couple days?”
“Uh… Well, I work here most days-“
“No. I mean, like, midnight or so. Well, two in the morning, more like, after the bars close.”
“We’re closed then.”
“What’s your address?”
Avery’s rational mind said not to tell him, but Avery’s body and his cock and his prostate all demanded he do it. So even as he told himself not to, he gave Dog his address and phone number.
“If I come by to see you at night when I’m drunk,” Dog said as he headed towards the door. “You best let me in and lemme sleep on yer couch, boy. I won’t steal nothin’, I’s a God-fearin’ man. You better not molest me neither. I ain’t gonna let you jerk me off, and I definitely won’t be sticking you up the ass neither.” He paused in the doorway and took a deep breath. “I ain’t mean to act unchristian towards ya. I’ll come pass out on yer couch, just don’t you dare take advantage of me.”
“Okay, I won’t,” Avery said with a deep sigh. He was glad to see Dog walk away, but Avery already looked forward to seeing him again.

Naked in New Zealand

Rob is visiting New Zealand when he runs across a surfing young Maori man who needs a few dollars for a new surfboard… or maybe a lot of dollars! Rob is all too happy to help him out with a hand, a mouth and maybe even more, giving this Kiwi the thrill of a lifetime!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read it all here!

“Hey, have you boys ever heard of The Talltops?” Rob Winthrop asked the foursome of young kiwis. The Talltops were an all-Maori ukulele-based pop band, well-known locally, or so the Talltops’s social media claimed. Rob was here to investigate the truth of that.
All four erupted in cheers and laughter. It was too much too quickly for Rob to hear what they said. One of them must have made a joke because they all laughed, and there was some shoving too. One of them, the handsome one, nearly fell over into the sand.
“Hell yeah, mate, they’re famous as, around here,” said one.
“Yeah, everyone listens to them,” said the handsome one. He had a thick curly mane of black hair sticking above his head. His skin glistened with the sea spray. He had been surfing recently, it seemed, and he carried two halves of a broken surfboard. He glanced wistfully at the ocean, just maybe thirty meters away. The waves crashed audibly against the beach, which Rob always thought was such a peaceful, joyous sound, it was a strange contrast with the rambunctious tomfoolery of these young surfers.
“Shut up, Joseph, don’t pretend you know what you’re talking about. You never heard of them three months ago, and now you’re talking like you’re their biggest fan-” said the first.
The handsome one, Joseph, playfully thwacked his friend with his broken skateboard. “Fuck you, mate, I never said I liked them longer than anyone-“
“Okay, okay, don’t fight, guys,” Rob said before punches were about to be thrown. “I just wanted to know. What are some other local bands you like?”
“Who the hell are you, eh?”
“Are you American?”
“No, no, my name is Rob Winthrop, I’m a scout for a small record label,” Rob said.
They all nodded. “You’re looking for a band?”
“We play! I know guitar and that.”
“I write songs!”
“No, no, sorry guys,” Rob said. He threw his hands up. “Not like that. We’re only looking for established bands with a following. I can’t sign anyone without thousands of Facebook and Twitter followers. Not you personally, the band’s followers. I have to justify my acquisitions to my boss. I think The Talltops are the only band I can consider around here.”
They grumbled and looked down at their feet. No one said anything. They all shared knowing glances with each other, leaving Rob to feel left out.
“What happened to your surfboard?” Rob asked Joseph when the silence became too awkward.
“Busted it, mate,” Joseph said as though it should have been obvious. He pointed to one of the others. “It was his fault-“
“Was not, dickweed!”
“You want a new one?” Rob asked.
“Cheers, broah! A new surfboard, eh?”
Rob nodded. “All you have to do is stick your dick in my ass.”
As Rob expected, there was a long awkward silence and then an outpouring of laughter. Joseph turned so deep red his face looked like an overripe strawberry. He was naturally swarthy, just light enough that his blushing could be seen. His friends all tried to pat him on the ass — he was sitting down on a sandy brick wall, so they just felt up his back instead. He bristled and winced and pushed them away.
“Wait, you serious, mate?”
“I’ll buy you any surfboard you want.”
“The Hemanawa, eh.” He said it as though he had been waiting for this moment. He chuckled. “Sorry, mate, I know that’s-“
“Fine.” Rob shrugged.
He looked at Rob like he never expected Rob would agree to that. “What? That costs heaps! Eleven hundred dollars, mate.”
“Fine,” Rob said. He blushed. “I can afford it. We’ll go to that beach shower over there, your friends can be lookouts.”
“Ew, gross-!”
“No way!”
“I’ll pay you guys fifty bucks each to be lookout,” Rob said. Despite their reluctance moments before, they each raced to agree. Rob smiled. “What do you say, Joseph?”
“Do it! Do it! Do it!”
“Yeah, mate, do it!”
Joseph smiled wanly and nodded. “Fine. Okay. I’ll do it, mate. I’ll… you can’t stick nothing in me, right? I’m not touching your dick and that, eh.”
“Yeah, fine. I just jerk you off and you ram me in the ass,” Rob said. “That’s it.”
He nodded and led Rob to the beach shower. This was not a highly trafficked area of beach with no bachs nearby, so the shower was empty. It was an open-air shower with wooden walls. Rob loved to mess around in a place like this, and this was the first time he could actually make it happen.
Rob sunk to his knees and pulled down Joseph’s shorts. A fat, uncut cock popped out, a deep brown color like a tan macadamia nut. Joseph chuckled. His wide-brown face was dappled in sweat.
“How is it, broah?”
Joseph grumbled. He couldn’t keep still as Rob kissed his cocktip. There was something delightfully immature in the way he fidgeted, shifting his weight on his feet, bringing his hands together and apart, stroking his forehead and running his fingers through his curly black hair. When he smiled nervously, his deep dimples were apparent.
“So, wow… you’re serious as, mate?”
That made Rob laugh too. “You waited until your cock was in my mouth to ask if I was serious? I’d say at this point, you have your answer, Joseph.”
He smiled. “Yeah…”
“Have you ever done this before?” Rob asked. He flopped Joseph’s limp cock over his face. It was big and fleshy, uncut, smelling vaguely of sea-spray, sand and sunlight, or maybe that was just the Pacific Ocean a few meters away.
Joseph frowned. “No! No, mate,” he said. Then he checked that his buddies couldn’t see or hear — they stood on the other side of the doorway, whispering in hushed tones — and he whispered, “Yeah.” He held up two fingers. He mouthed the words “two times”.
Rob nodded. Now that he was swallowing it deeply and moistly, Joseph’s cock began to perk up. It stiffened in Rob’s mouth, and Joseph let out a muffled moan.
“There he goes, are you cumming already, Joseph?”
“I bet he is, his girlfriend told me he got that premature ejaculation-“
“Heaps quick-“
“Shut up out there!” Joseph called out. He grinned broadly. He grabbed one of the halves of his surfboard and threw it over the wall of the showerhouse. When he did, his cock spasmed in Rob’s mouth and precum exploded on Rob’s tongue, as though the only reason he hadn’t already started to leak precum was that he was nervous and distracted. Now that he focused on throwing the surfboard, his cock moistened and slickened, sliding directly down Rob’s throat.
Rob moaned around the knob in his mouth. Joseph and his buddies began throwing rocks over the wall back and forth at each other. They were just small pebbles, so when they hit Rob, they didn’t hurt. Joseph howled through, when one hit him on the lip. A few drops of blood appeared.
“Quit it, mate!”
“You started it, Joseph!”
“I’m trying to make money, and you lot are getting paid heaps too! You should be supporting me!”
“Way to go, Joseph! You’re an excellent rentboy! Hardout!”
“I’ll tell your mom how good you are at bludging with your tiny dick. Finally, a skill!”
“I got skills, mate! I can outsurf you drongos!” Joseph bellowed over the wall. He stood on his toes to get as close to his friends as possible, which forced Rob to lift himself up on his knees as high in order to keep at his dick. Joseph also moved closer to the wall, slamming Rob against it. Joseph’s hips kept moving like he was desperate to get deep in Rob’s mouth, but Joseph’s upper half seemed to have forgotten that’s what was happening. Joseph tried to climb the wall without removing his shaft from Rob’s throat, as his dick pulsated and spewed precum into Rob’s belly.
Joseph — bending over sideways so he didn’t have to remove his cock from Rob’s mouth — grabbed a discarded jandal off the ground. He tossed that over the wall. There was some shouting and an annoyed grunt.
“Ow, that hit me on the mouth, Joseph!”
Joseph laughed. “Why was your mouth open?” He had his hands on his hips, looking up at the wall. “Huh? Whose cock was in there?”
“Only one of us is doing that right now, mate.”
“It’s the Maori way!” Joseph said. “As long as you’re on top-“
“Oh now he’s interested in Maori ways. Hey, broah, don’t let him make you think he’s really Maori. In grade five it took him so long to say Aotearoa he started crying. The teacher called him a retard.”
“Nah-ah!” Joseph screamed. He looked down at Rob and blushed. “That wasn’t the teacher, who called me a retard, you’re wrong! Idiot! I had a speech problem. I had a speech therapist.” He chuckled. “I am Maori. I just don’t speak Maori. None of them speak it either.”
“I do!”
“You take classes on it cuz you like teacher’s cock-“
“Shut up!”
Rob was annoyed that Joseph kept moving around — he had stopped watching Rob, so he didn’t realize that Rob was bobbing and weaving all over the place trying to keep the taste of Joseph’s meat on his tongue.
“Oh,” Joseph said. He sighed. “Sorry. Are you, like… turned on by Maoris? You can call me Hohepa if you want. That’s my Maori name.”
“No it isn’t, broah. Hohepa is just the Maori version of Joseph. No one calls him that.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Rob said. He just wished Joseph would calm down and focus on his dick. He seemed to be looking for opportunities to distract himself.
“Oh, good, good,” Joseph said. He hesitated. “My older brother says there are American chicks who come to New Zealand because they want to pay Maori men for sex and that. He said he made heaps for screwing hot Californian chicks, eh. But he said you have to have a Maori accent and dance the haka and stuff,” He sighed. “Is that…?”
“Joseph, I’m not American and I’m not a chick,” Rob said. “But no, I don’t think that’s true.”
“Your brother is a useless fat drunk, Joseph. He doesn’t get laid by hot American chicks. He doesn’t even get laid by hot Australian chicks.”
“Your brother is s sad sac like you are, Joseph!”
“Hey, fuck you, mate!” Joseph said with a big belly laugh. He again tried to throw something over the wall at his friends, but this time, the thing he grabbed was his own swim trunks — togs. Rob really wanted to focus on playing with Joseph’s sweet, tropical-tasting cock and his potent salty precum, but he had to laugh and roll his eyes at that.
“Joseph… why did you throw your trunks over?”
Joseph closed his eyes and groaned. He smiled sheepishly, dick twitching on Rob’s lips. “I forgot that was the only clothes I had in here. I was gonna throw my boxers at them but I’m not wearing any. The togs are my underwear. Hey, give them back! Hey! Hey!”
Rob sighed and sat back. Sometimes, the drawback to jerking off hot young jocks and immature alphas like Joseph was that they were young and immature, like Joseph. Joseph didn’t even seem to notice that he was getting a nut off right now.
He jumped around on his feet, dancing as he looked for stuff to throw out of the showering area. His erect cock flopped around, dripping precum everywhere. He found a handful of pebbles and threw them over.
“Hey, fuckheads!”
But his friends mostly didn’t respond. They were being quiet. Rob sighed and leaned back against the shower wall.
“Hey!” Joseph jumped up and grabbed the top of the wall. He peered over the edge and held on. “Hey, they’re throwing my togs in the ocean! Hey! Quit it! Hey! Hey! Bring that back, broah! Hey! Quit playing!”
“Relax, Joseph, relax, I’ll buy you new trunks,” Rob said. “Relax, man, okay? Just relax. Chill out.”
Joseph hung from the top of the wall. His plump, tight little ass faced Rob, while Joseph yelled across the beach at his friends. He gave no indication of listening to Rob.
Rob rolled his eyes and kissed one of Joseph’s asscheeks. His skin was taut, powerful muscles brimmin beneath the surface. Now wonder he could jump all the way up to grab the edge of the wall, Rob thought, with thigh- and ass-muscle like this. That must come from surfing.
“Oh, whoah, broah, what are ya doing?” Joseph asked with a nervous squeal like a surprised piglet. He peered behind himself to watch Rob’s face dive between his cheeks. His ass tasted very strong of seawater, so salty and astringent it brought tears to Rob’s eyes.
But it tasted clean too, warm and inviting, musky, coconutty, like some hot exotic dessert filled with fruits Rob had never tasted. He teased the rim of Joseph’s asshole, making him shudder and turn red. Still he hung from the wall.
“You’re gonna be stuck in there forever, Joseph!”
His shorts just washed up again.
“Hey, wait a sec, I’ll be back. I need to bash them,” Joseph dropped back to his feet, darted around Rob and out of the showers. His hard cock jutted straight out and bobbed around as he ran.
He surprised his friends, who were not near the doorway — they had clustered near the wall where Joseph was poking over the edge — and ran past them. Rob rolled his eyes as he watched, peering carefully around the corner of the showerhouse entrance.
Joseph was fast. He was short, but he had long legs and he had a head-start on his friends. He made it to the waves first, picked up his dark red shorts and held onto them like a championship trophy. His massive cock was bare, erect and still dripping — either seawater or precum or both, Joseph couldn’t tell.
Then one of the other surfing Maoris tackled him. Joseph was knocked into the spray, and the whole bunch of them went down in a tangle of limbs. Rob wanted more than anything to go over to them and dive in as well — it must be glorious, he thought, laying there on the pristine beach wrestling with the bodies of a bunch of surfing jocks.
They were wrestling, elbowing and kneeing each other. It would probably hurt to be in the pile — Rob wasn’t a young tough buck like Joseph, he couldn’t handle that.
They didn’t seem too worried about accidentally touching Joseph’s naked body. Joseph and his friends did not have any aversion to naked wrestling, at least not until they realized Rob was watching them.
Then they came back to the beach shower. Rob was excited to see that the swim trunks were torn to shreds. He was annoyed to see that Joseph had lost his erection.
“Hey, mate, come buy me the surfboard now and new togs,” Joseph said. He wagged his dick between his fingers, aiming it at the surf shop just a few meters away from the showers. “Let’s hurry this up. I don’t want you to shoot through when I’m done.”
He didn’t wait for Rob to answer, he just headed over to the shop. He was confidently naked, his massive dick swaying between his legs. That was no doubt why he was so confident, Rob thought. He was probably glad for an excuse to make everyone see his dick.
“Holy shit, he’s doing it! He’s going in there naked!”
“He’s blue-ballin’ himself!”
“I am not, I’ll be done in a minute and I’ll ram that broah so hard his mum feels it,” Joseph said as he opened the door. “The fucking cold water messed with me anyway, I need a minute.” He chuckled. He opened the door and strode in.
“Hey! Joseph! No pranks! No hazing!” the shopkeeper bellowed and pointed towards the door. “Put your clothes on, Joseph!”
“I’m keen for some, mate,” Joseph said. He grabbed a pair of blue swim trunks and placed them on the counter. “I’m here to buy togs.”
“You have money now? I’m not haggling, Joseph.”
“He’s got a sugar-daddy.”
Rob stepped forward. “Hi. We’re in a hurry. Just the shorts and-“
“The Hemanawa.” Joseph crossed his arms over his chest. He smiled proudly.
The shopkeeper looked at Rob like a math equation that didn’t add up. “Are you really his sugar daddy? Does that mean what I think…? Nevermind, don’t tell me. The Hemanawa is very expensive.”
“I know.”
“And this.” Joseph grabbed a tin of surfboard wax and put it on the counter.
“Hey, broah, can I get a long surfboard too, eh?”
“Oh yeah, we can share it! We don’t use long boards, but we could all try it! C’mon, broah!”
Rob blushed and nodded. “Wait,” he said. “I’ll buy you all a long board, but you have to share it. And Joseph, you have to-” He cut himself off by grabbing Joseph by the six-packed torso and kissing him right on the lips. The others, including the shopkeeper, all guffawed and hooted. Joseph’s face turned bright red.
Joseph didn’t resist, he was just stiff. His muscles tensed up. He allowed Rob to kiss him, and he let Rob’s fingers roam over his body. Joseph shuddered.
When Rob finally pulled off him — Joseph’s friends had piled add-ons onto the counter: surfboard wax, some sort of coconut candy, iPhone earbuds, some tobacco for durries and a case of beer. Rob planted his lips on Joseph’s smooth neck. Joseph bristled and giggled nervously. He stood up straight as Rob withdrew his credit card with one hand, his other roaming down Joseph’s bare ass.
The shopkeeper grumbled. “Don’t you ever come in my store naked again, Joseph,” he said. He smiled at Rob. “Come again, sir.”
“Chur broah!”
“Sweet as, mate.”
It was thousand of dollars worth of stuff, and Rob hadn’t even paid the other guys for watching the showers yet. Rob couldn’t believe he had been talking in to spending so much. He didn’t mind the money, it was just that he knew by now — it was very obvious — that Joseph wouldn’t have required much convincing. Rob could have given him a hundred bucks, and Joseph probably would have seen that as more than enough.
But still, Rob wouldn’t have gotten all these perks, he thought as he leapt onto Joseph’s back — his friends had suggested Joseph carry him back to the showerhouse. Rob was clothed, but his rock-hard dick pressed into the small of Joseph’s back as Joseph strained to carry him across the street into the showers. His shoulder muscles writhed beneath Rob’s touch.
“Okay, damn, my balls ache, hurry up, man,” Joseph said when they were back in the showers. “I wanna use that surfboard while the waves are still good.”
The others were already arguing about who got to use the long board first, which meant they were not paying attention when Joseph again leaned against the wall so Rob could jerk him off. Rob slunk once more to his knees, and he popped Joseph’s knob in his mouth. But Rob had no sooner made contact with his dick before Joseph was hard all over again.
“Are you ready to ram me?”
“Hell yeah,” he said. Despite his words, he looked nervous. Joseph grimaced. “It’s a part of Maori culture. It’s okay if you’re on top. A real man should only ever be on top, like a conquering warrior.” He shrugged. “It’s okay for you to be on the bottom, that’s… You haven’t lost a battle, it’s just-“
“I know. I don’t need an explanation, Joseph,” Rob said. “Just stick it in.” He bent over and aimed his bare ass in Joseph’s direction.
“Pork him, Joseph! Make him squeal like a piggie!”
Joseph shrugged and stroked his dick. He approached Rob’s ass and gingerly touched it. When it didn’t turn out to be gross, he got more confident. He spread Rob’s cheeks and wedged his dick in. He held his breath and winced with his eyes, despite his cocky demeanor.
“You doin’ it, Joseph? Hurry up, mate!”
“Shut up! Just be quiet, man, I can’t root with you blathering!” Joseph said, speaking with more confidence than he displayed.
Then his cock jolted into Rob’s ass. There was a burst of pain and pleasure, and both men stopped. Joseph’s leering grin disappeared.
“Oh god…” Rob’s voice broke. His asshole tingled and sang as Joseph slid a few inches of his smooth manhood into him. Rob backed his ass up the best he could, ignoring the strain as he accepted more and more of Joseph’s fat dick.
“Is, uh… that okay? Uh… I mean, you best take it. Bitch,” Joseph said in his best — though not very good — impression of an American rapper. He smacked Rob’s asscheek. “Are you-?” But the motion of Rob’s plump cheeks and the clenching of his ass around Joseph’s cock made Joseph’s voice break. He moaned and grunted. His friends laughed on the other side of the wall.
“Oh. I think broah broke him.”
“Joseph must love that American broah’s cock. It probably tastes like meatloaf.”
“Meeeatlooooaf!” One of the others said in what was presumably an attempt at an American accent. The guys outside the showerhouse kept making meatloaf references — it must be an inside joke, maybe a YouTube video, Rob thought. He didn’t think of meatloaf as characteristically American, but maybe to kiwis it was different.
“Fuck you!” Joseph called out. He tried to make his voice as deep and macho as possible, but he ended up sounding weak and wavering because he was wracked by spasms of pleasure shooting up his body. He bit his lip.
It sounded like Joseph had another retort ready, or at least that he wanted to have a retort ready, but he just moaned. His cock throbbed in Rob’s ass. He was balls-deep now, on the verge of cumming. Rob could feel precum flowing into him.
Then Rob shot his own load onto the shower floor. It was a thick, hot wad of cum, but Joseph didn’t notice it — which was probably a good thing, as it likely would have made him less comfortable.
“Hurry up, Joseph, or we’re gonna use your new board.”
“Better not,” Joseph said. “I’ll deal to you, heaps!” He either sounded serious because he was angry at the possibility they’d use his surfboard before he did or because he was so close to orgasming that he had to concentrate to speak at all. He closed his eyes and gasped for air.
Rob slammed his ass all the way back. He lifted his head up until his shoulders pressed against Joseph’s writhing chest muscles. Rob turned his head and kissed Joseph once more on the lips just as he felt a wave of cum flow into his ass.
Joseph didn’t seem to even notice the kiss. He had his eyes closed, and he held onto Rob’s body with both hands, as though searching for tits on his chest. Rob’s tongue snaked into Joseph’s quivering mouth.
It was a long, flowing load that filled up Rob’s ass. It seeped into his flesh, its creamy warmth trickling through his body. Rob felt like he was bathing in the bright, sunny warmth of Joseph’s youth and vitality. It coated his entire body in its salty, cummy flavor.
And then it was over in a freezing cold flash — a bucket of cold water was dumped over the showerhouse wall. It landed on Joseph’s head, but most of it hit Rob as well. It was a bucket filled with seawater.
Rob and Joseph both gasped, their orgasms barely complete before the water snapped them out of their respective climaxes. Rob fell to the ground, twitching as he enjoyed his orgasm.
Joseph’s more energetic body leapt into action. He ran out of the showers, naked again, screaming insults and threats. He came back in a few seconds, muttered a few words of thanks to Rob and then put his new shorts on. He ran back out there, and a fight immediately ensued.
“Get off me, mate!”
“It was my board!”
“Fuck you!”
Rob watched for a few moments, but he got bored soon. He had gotten what he wanted. He left all of his remaining cash there with the long board, the wax and the other stuff he had bought — that included more than fifty dollars for each of Joseph’s friends. He didn’t wait for them to notice him leave.
He had gotten what he paid for, and he even got the info he needed on The Talltops. They were a signable band, he thought. He wondered if they would let him jerk them off too. He had a feeling they’d do anything for a record deal, and Rob intended to push them as far as they would go.

Jail Intake

Greg got drunk last night, so when he wakes up, he’s under arrest and being processed by the legendary cruel alpha-male bully Officer Awful! He’s in for a hardcore tale of domination, submission and utter humiliation!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Greg was still drunk, but he felt serious now. It had all seemed like a big joke when he was being arrested. He laughed the whole time. But he had been left in the little waiting area for what felt like hours, and the silence and the solitude made him realize he was in big trouble. It was just some drunk-in-public stuff, but he had gotten into it with the cop — into it hard — and they were going to hit him with resisting arrest, assaulting an officer, destruction of property and who even knew what else! Greg was fucked.
Now at last a bulky cop with a shit-eating grin came to get him. That wasn’t the simpering little nerd-looking cop who arrested Greg for public drunkenness. This man had an air of authority.
“Good evening, Mister Hardesty, my name is Officer Auffernan. Some people call me Officer Awful. I don’t condone that,” he said. He held up one hand as though he was testifying in court. “But I don’t forbid it. I’m gonna process you into jail tonight. Now unfortunately our only judge for the weekend has gone home, so you’re going to have wait to be arraigned on Monday.”
“For public drunk’ness?” Greg hiccuped, still slightly drunk.
“I’ll tell you when the time for questions has come,” Officer Auffernan said. “And you should address me as sir.”
“Uh… yes, sir.”
“Hmm, thank you, Mister Hardesty. I’m going to start calling you ‘fuckweasel’. Will that trigger anything in you? Was ya mama raped by a weasel or something like that? Good.” He didn’t give Greg a chance to say anything. Officer Auffernan frowned down at Greg like a disgusting species of frog. “Now what I’m going to do next is punch you right in the belly, as hard as I can.” He lowered his head to look Greg in the eye. Greg blanched, but Officer Auffernan held his head in place. “But don’t you worry, there is a valid penological reason for it.”
Then there was an explosion of pain, so fast that Greg didn’t even realize it had happened until he was already on the floor, clutching his belly. He cried out and twitched so hard his head banged into the wall.
“Now get up and take ya clothes off. I need to search you for contraband. If you is bringin’ contraband into my jail, I will rock ya fuckin’ world, fuckweasel.”
But Greg could do nothing more than groan and squirm. He tried to stagger to his feet, but he was at a loss for breath. He hoarsely squeaked out a gasp, and he managed only to kneel on one foot.
“I said get up and take ya clothes off, fuckweasel!”
Every move he made was arduous. Greg let out a sob and a cry of pain as Officer Auffernan got down real close. He shouted like a drill instructor, his spit splashing onto Gary’s face.
“Take your clothes off, fuckweasel, right now, or I swear to God I will shove this entire jail up your asshole!”
Even as Greg started to unbutton his shirt, fumbling from both pain and terror, Officer Awful kept his face so near his breath condensed on Gary’s cheeks. “Hurry up, fuckweasel. I’ve got a nice hard cot with your name on it. You are gonna regret every day you ever breathed air on this planet, you are gonna feel like a mule rented by a red-headed stepchild if you don’t hurry your stupid ass up, boy. Do you think I am playing with you? Huh? Do you?”
“No! No!” Greg gasped. One of the buttons flew off his shirt, which ripped as he tore it off himself. He threw it on the floor.
Officer Awful pushed Greg over as he tried to drop his pants, and he fell to the ground. “Hurry up, fuckweasel!”
“I’m trying!” Greg ripped the fly of his jeans trying to get them off, as he sobbed into the linoleum floor. It was cold and felt wet, in a vaguely urinal-y way that churned Greg’s stomach. Humiliation rose up in him. He didn’t know how his life was turning out this way. He wasn’t this kind of guy — he wasn’t a criminal, a bad boy.
Was it the alcohol? Greg didn’t think of himself as an alcoholic. He didn’t drink every day. Well… not every day. There was a day a couple months ago… Greg somehow got his pants off over his shoes, which he kicked off as he squirmed on the moist linoleum.
“Alright, fuckweasel.” He grabbed Gary’s hair. His clothes were off, and he lay flat, panting, on the floor. Officer Awful grinned, revealing dimpled cheeks, like he woulda been handsome if he weren’t so craggy and worn. “I’m gonna tell you something in just a second. You should know that I’m telling you this as a friend — or a potential friend — this is not in my position as an officer and representative of the state government.” He took a deep breath as though confiding a great and vital secret. “Here it is: you should beg me to spit in ya mouth. It would make things go easier if you do that, as a gesture of submissive goodwill.”
“What?”
Greg doubled over again as Officer Awful punched him once more in the gut. He was already on the floor, but he now could not get up. Spasms of pain wracked his body.
“No questions!”
Greg gasped for air. He tried to apologize but couldn’t.
“Get up, now, fuckweasel!” Officer Awful mock-kicked him — kicking his foot but stopping it just centimeters from Gary’s body, so Greg flinched and wept each time. He buried his face in his arms. “Gonna turn ya head into my soccer ball, fuckweasel, if you don’t get up.”
When Greg could do little more than crawl, Officer Awful deemed that good enough and opened the door to the next little locked corridor in the jail. Crawling was the most humiliating experience in Greg’s life. His bare ass poked up high in the air, and his knees ached, his stomach ached, everything ached. He wanted to puke, run, cry and hide all at once.
“Please, uh… what, uh…you can do that, uh, spitting thing, just let me up-“
“Don’t you speak like that to me, fuckweasel. If you want something, you address me like a man, as sir, and you plan your words before you open ya mouth. None of this uh or ah business. That’s for girls and pansies, and I don’t see tits or petals on you.”
“Okay, please…” Greg found it difficult to be blunt and not say uh. “Please, you can spit in my mouth-“
‘I know I can. That ain’t what I told you as a friend,” he said. “Wasn’t you payin’ attention? I was tryin’ to be helpful.”
“Please spit in my mouth!”
He smiled again, and took off his sheriff’s hat. “Why, don’t mind if I do.” He hunkered down real close to Greg and hocked up a loogie into his mouth. It was clotty and thick, and it smelled like a doorknob. He spoke moistly as he gathered up spit in his mouth, making Gary’s stomach churn. “In my jail, we call this a ‘bitch-kiss’. It’s how a prison top makes his bottom know his place.” He let loose with another giant wad of saliva and phlegm that plopped in Gary’s mouth.
Greg choked and tried to spit it out, but Officer Awful grabbed him by the neck, squeezing tight enough that he nearly lifted Greg off the ground. Greg squealed and sputtered. Officer Awful spat again, directly into Gary’s mouth, then again. His lips were so close they nearly kissed.
“You feel it, fuckweasel? Ya feel how intimate this is?” He paused and hocked up a loogie in his mouth. He forced himself to couch to fill his mouth even more. He very moistly said, “You my bitch now, fuckweasel. I’m gonna make you open up and suck up the spit in my mouth now. It’s gonna taste real nasty, but you’re gonna choke it down while I watch. You ready?”
Greg shook his head.
“Tough…” He squeezed Gary’s cheeks until his mouth opened, and then a massive mouthful of spit and fluids landed in Gary’s mouth. He still hadn’t swallowed what was already there, so his mouth was overflowing now. Saliva flooded his face from his forehead to his chin, both Officer Awful’s and Gary’s own.
Officer Awful very slowly forced Gary’s mouth closed. “Swallow, fuckweasel. Swallow…” He massaged Gary’s neck like he was forcing a dog to swallow a pill.
Greg gagged and retched, but Officer Awful kept his mouth close and Greg could do nothing but choke back the gags emanating out of his raging stomach. He kept one arm curled over his belly as though to keep it all in. Finally he had quelled the nausea, though he could still taste snot in his mouth.
Before he could recover, Officer Awful dragged him into the next room. A handful of other officers were visible through the windows here, watching and laughing. Greg couldn’t hear them, but he could see their faces light up when they saw him. The nerdy-looking officer who had arrested Greg was there as well, leering at him. They all cheered when Greg let out a choked sob.
“Can… Can I say I’m sorry?” Greg asked. He nodded to the nerdy officer. “Can I apologize to him? I was rude to him before, last night. And… I might have hit him, I don’t remember-“
He doubled over in pain as Officer Awful punched him in the gut again. Through the soundproof glass, the watching officers laughed and cheered.
“You got freedom of speech, fuckweasel. You can always apologize. Jail rules say you can’t ask no questions, that’s why I had to punch you,” he said. “They can hear you through the loudspeaker.”
“Uh… I’m sorry, Officer… Uh… I don’t know your name-“
“Boy, what did I tell you about sayin’ uh?”
“I’m sorry!”
“Well, I appreciate your apology, fuckweasel, and yes, you were quite rude to my fellow officer last night. You said some very hurtful things. Words are weapons, doncha know. So, despite ya ‘pology, you still gotta spend a weekend with me. Don’t worry. I’m sure we gonna be real good friends,” Officer Awful said. “Do you enjoy gettin’ gutpunched?” He did so again, even harder this time, making Greg double over and gasp for air. His flat belly was crying out in pain. He could there was gonna be a huge colorful bruise there tomorrow.
“C’mon…”
“This is not the time for begging. This jail has a begging period every day, please save it for then,” Awful said. Then he directed Greg to stand over the drain in one end of the room, with his legs and arms spread, leaning against the wall. Greg’s bare ass dimpled and jiggled. It was cold in this room.
“Are you gonna…?” Greg wanted to ask if Officer Awful was going to cornhole him. That’s what it felt like in this position. But he couldn’t ask questions. “This position is… it feels like you’re going to cornhole me.”
“Oh. Do you want me to ram you up the asshole til ya buttcheeks fall off? Keep your head still, fuckweasel.” Officer Awful was doing something, getting some piece of equipment ready, but all Greg could see was the wall in front of him. Or was Awful taking off his belt?
“No, don’t! Don’t do that!”
“What was that? Are you begging me to ram you? If you really want me to, I’ll consider it later, fuckweasel. It’s technically against the rules though. Close your eyes,” he said. Then there was a cloud of white powder in the air. Greg coughed and sputtered. Officer Awful made him turn around and covered him in more of the acrid white powder. “Turn back around.”
Greg hacked as he tried to get his breath. His stomach still hurt from being punched, and his drunken headache was getting worse. He could tell — even though he couldn’t hear or see them — that Officer Martin and the other cops in the next room were laughing at him.
Water sprayed onto his back. It was ice-cold, and it made Gary’s balls crawl up in his sac. He gasped and twitched.
“Stay still, fuckweasel!”
The water was so cold Greg couldn’t breathe. His skin tightened up, and his stomach dropped. Officer Awful made him bend backover, sticking his ass in the air. He sprayed water from the hose directly onto Gary’s asshole, which hurt so bad Greg screamed. He clawed at the wall of the tiny room.
Finally the water turned off, and Officer Awful dragged Greg away, into the next room once more. Greg tried to get on his feet, but Officer Awful didn’t give him a chance to. Greg was naked and wet, so he kept slipping and couldn’t even crawl for more than a few feet, he kept collapsing as Awful kicked him and dragged him over the floor.
“Please!” Greg cried out, then clamped his mouth shut lest he start begging again, outside of the designated begging time. He wondered if there was really a designated begging time.
He was dragged over the linoleum floor, naked and wet, dizzy, nauseous. He begged, but Officer Awful barked at him to be silent every time he said anything, so all he could do was pant.
As it turned out, the next room was a medical examination. There wasn’t much to it though — Officer Awful tossed him up onto the cushioned chair and rammed his finger into Gary’s ass so fast Greg hadn’t even finishing sitting down before he felt that finger wiggling inside him.
“Let’s take a walk,” Officer Awful said. “I wanna make sure I search all up in you, and that means you gotta move. Shift your contraband around.”
“I. Don’t. Have. Any,” Greg said, gritting his teeth through the pain. He forced himself to take a step, then another, but every move he made sent waves of agony through his body.
At least he reached the doorway, and Officer Awful gave him a shove. He stumbled forward, Officer Awful moving with him and that finger stayed in his asshole the entire time.
Those other cops were there in the next room, watching and cheering as Greg stammered. He couldn’t even think about a plan because of the pain in his ass.
“Wreck him! Wreck him! Wreck him!”
“Put him on his knees, Auffernan!”
Officer Awful moved his finger like a fishhook, pointing down, and in order to alleviate the pain, Greg lowered himself. Soon he was on his knees on the ground. Officer Awful at last removed his finger.
But the relief was short-lived because he shoved his finger in Gary’s mouth. Greg gagged at the assy taste, but his head was jammed against a wall.
Then before Greg could even get his bearings or stop gagging, his mouth was pried open. He knew what was coming, but it was still shocking to feel that fleshy, rubbery limp cock slide onto his tongue. He choked all over again. Officer Awful let his dick slide out of the fly of his uniform slacks, ramming as much of it as he could fit into Gary’s mouth.
“You got contraband in yer throat, fuckweasel? Huh? If you do, I’ll find it, swear to God, and I will ram you so hard yer mama gonna feel it,” Officer Awful said. “Now listen here.” He rammed his cock in as far as it would go, maybe halfway in, as it started to stiffen up. “My pops always said you ain’t ram a fuckweasel’s throat hard enough till there’s tears comin’ out of his fuckweasel eyes and there’s ballsweat dripping from his fuckweasel chin. Ya feel me, fuckweasel? You had better swallow enough of my dick to rub my balls on your chin.”
Greg was dizzy, and he choked so hard it hurt his stomach, but with Officer Awful’s cock in his throat, he couldn’t do anything but squirm. The wall was hard and stubbly, scratching against his skin as he moved up and down. It was iron-hard, pressing at his throat like a battering ram.
Finally Officer Awful backed off to let him have a breath. Greg collapsed to the ground, but he had no sooner taken a breath before he was on the floor on his back. Officer Awful pushed him into position, then kneeled over his face so that his balls plopped on Gary’s nose.
“You had best loosen up that throat boy, or there is gonna be some consequences. You won’t like ’em one bit,” he said. Then he bent over Gary’s body like he was doing a push-up. He pointed his dick into Gary’s mouth and slammed down with all his weight.
Greg choked once more. He had never regained his breath, and now his throat was sore even before that massive cock pushed in. But Officer Awful was relentless. He pivoted his hips, laughing as Gary’s throat gradually lost its resistance.
Soon Officer Awful’s balls rested on Gary’s nose and eyes. Gary’s whole world went white, and at first he thought it was cum, that Officer Awful had finally shot his wad. But no, he just lost consciousness for a few seconds.
When he went limp, Officer Awful pulled up and out of his mouth. He patted Greg on the back of the head and chuckled as he hoarsely gasped. “There you go, you did it, hoss, good boy,” he said. “That means I am gonna ram you in the ass, but just one time. And then… well, if you be good, I just might let you go. Got it?”
He nodded.
“See, now you answered me without using words, fuckweasel. I don’t like that,” he said. “Not at all.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!” Greg squealed and sobbed. “I do understand. I’ll do whatever you want.”
“I know… Get on your back, lift your feet in the air,” Officer Awful said. He got on his knees. Greg was terrified, and he especially didn’t want to take that massive dick up the ass in this position. But of course, he didn’t have any choice.
“I like rammin’ like this cuz it hurts my bitch,” Officer Awful said as though that was a good rationale. “Plus it lets me finish with a punch and a choke, so you’ll have that to look forward to.”
Greg tried to think of a way to ask what that meant without asking a question, but he had a feeling he knew the answer. Officer Awful smirked at him. He spat on Gary’s face again, and as Greg winced and gagged, he drilled his cock in.
He lightly smacked Greg on the cheek. “I’m in you now, bitch. Guess how many inches you got in ya.”
“Uh… I-“
He smacked Greg harder, and Greg groaned. “What did I tell you about saying uh?”
“You said not to. I apologize. It hurts…”
“Guess how many inches you got in you?”
“Three?” Greg had no idea, it was just a random guess.
“Wrong. Gimme yer hand,” he said. He didn’t wait. He grabbed Gary’s hand and brought it forward to his ass. The movement made the pain worse. He touched Officer Awful’s cock with one hand. There was still a whole lot of cockmeat to go. “Feel that? You only got like a half-inch in your ass.” Greg could hear deep male voices laughing from the other room — the officer who arrested him, maybe more cops too, they were over there laughing as he endured unimaginable agony.
“Yes, sir, Officer Awful.”
“Now start chanting, thank you big brother, can I have another? You got that? Keep sayin’ it ‘till I get all my dick in ya,” he said.
“Thank you big brother, can I have another! Thank you big brother, can I have another! Thank you big brother, can I have another! Thank you big brother, can I have another!” Greg shouted it at first with nothing happening, but then Officer Awful started to ram his dick in between each chant. “Thank you big brother, can I have another!” Over and over again, he pumped his hips in the silence between chants. And each time, that caused mind-blowing agony in Gary’s asshole. “Thank you big brother, can I have another!”
It continued for what felt like forever. Greg didn’t know how he managed to do it, but eventually he felt that heavy hand close over his mouth.
“Shut up, fuckweasel,” he said with a groan. “I’m all way in you now. You’re my property. Say that.”
“I’m Officer… Officer Awful’s property,” Greg said. He bit his lip and threw his head back. The pain was excruciating, and it quickly got worse as Officer Awful began to gyrate his hips back and forth.
His balls slapped against Gary’s asshole. He wrapped his arms around Gary’s ankles and pressed them close to his muscular chest. His cock throbbed deep in Gary’s ass, which squeezed and churned. He clawed at Officer Awful’s chest, but to no avail. Awful was built like a bear, and he rammed like a stallion.
“Beg me to cum. Come on, be like a porno chick, man. Improvise a little,” Officer Awful said. He spat in Gary’s mouth as soon as he opened up to speak.
“Please… Cum in me… I want your cum inside me…” Greg said through his tears of pain and humiliation. That massive cock drilled into him, back and forth, demolishing his ass, regardless of how Greg squirmed or his hole clenched. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry I was rude and drunk… Please fill me up with your cum… Please-“
He was cut off because all of a sudden Officer Awful’s hands slapped Greg’s cheeks. He then squeezed Gary’s throat, hard enough to choke him, and his other hand formed a fist. It hovered above Gary’s face.
Greg tried to scream, but he choked, so all he could do was tighten and spasm. His whole body shook. His asshole clenched around Officer Awful’s cock.
Just when he thought the pain couldn’t get any worse, Officer Awful finally punched him right in the nose. Gary screamed in pain, as Officer Awful let go of his neck and Greg let out a series of hoarse sobs. That cascade of sensations inside Gary’s body was what sent Officer Awful over the edge.
“Cummin’ up in you now, boy, you in the home stretch…”
He gasped. Greg screamed. That spectacled officer, still watching outside the room, clapped and cheered. Cum sprayed into Gary’s ass, deep, hot and creamy. It stuck to his flesh and seeped into him like mud. He choked and gagged even though nothing was in his mouth.
“Hell yeah, fuckweasel, you got a nice ass,” Officer Awful said with a sigh. “Had a nice ass.” His cock spasmed inside Greg, sending more thick wads of cum inside him. It was a massive wad, it felt like, gobs of it spreading to every corner of Greg’s insides. He felt the heat seeping into him.
Then at last, Officer Awful withdrew his dick. The most incredible relief of his life flooded Greg, who closed his eyes. He shuddered, a frisson running up his spine. He didn’t want to ever open his eyes again.
That meant he didn’t see when Officer Awful scooted forward, reached for his mouth to open it and ram his dick inside. The taste of ass and cum intermixed in Gary’s mouth, making him retch and gag so hard his stomach hurt. The shame of tasting his own ass on another man’s dick flooded Gary, and the only consolation was that he was crying too hard to see what he was doing or how many cops were laughing at him.
“Clean up your mess, fuckweasel,” Officer Awful said. He swiped his dick over Gary’s face, making him lick every inch of the shaft, tracing every vein, as Officer Awful moaned and curdled above him. The taste was foul and sickening, and Greg couldn’t stop gagging, both from disgust and from the shame of those other cops watching him at his lowest.
Finally he was done. Officer Awful pulled away, stood and pulled his pants back up. He straightened his uniform. When Greg moaned and tried to stand, he kicked him in the thigh and Greg collapsed to the ground.
“Stay here,” Officer Awful said. “Now that I’m done checking you in, it’s time to show you to your cell. Don’t worry, I promise I won’t do that again and again all weekend.”
“You said… you’d let me go…”
“I said I’d consider it. And, I am going to let you go, eventually,” he said. He winked at Greg. “But you still got punishment coming to you.”

The Cop

Desmond has long heard tales of the cruel cop known as Officer Awful, but Desmond can’t wait to experience the kind of punishment Awful metes out! He likes to make men bend over and take it, which is exactly what Desmond craves.

Can Desmond handle the punishment Officer Awful has in store?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

Desmond staggered down the road, pretending to be drunk. Well, partially pretending. He was drunk, just not extremely drunk. He staggered like he was extremely drunk. He’d had a few drinks to settle his nerves, which didn’t work. His heart raced. He had never done anything quite like this before. The city was quiet but bustling in the early evening. Desmond stood out both because he appeared to be drunk and because he was the only black man here.
Sure enough, the first part of his plan worked: Desmond saw the police car pull to a stop, and Officer Auffernan got out. He was tall and strapping, his broad shoulders barely fitting into the uniform shirt he wore. He was both a literal and figurative redneck, his tan skin having a ruddy hue from working outside. He had a military crew-cut, but his hair was a dark blond so it almost looked like he had a bald head.
“Young man, come here,” he said. He sounded both bored and aggressive, and Desmond shivered in anticipation.
He smiled, dropping the drunken act. “What seems to be the problem, officer?”
“You drunk…?” Auffernan asked, eyebrows furrowing as he realized mid-question that Desmond no longer seemed drunk.
“No, sir. But you can charge me with public intoxication if you want.”
He chewed on his lip. He looked like the kind of man who was not often surprised during the course of his work and didn’t much like it now that it had happened. “What’s yer game, boy?”
The way he drawled out the word boy made Desmond shiver again. This time it must have been obvious that it was sexual, and Auffernan bristled. Desmond felt cold and small, and he had to resist the urge to grope Auffernan’s broad chest right now, here in public.
“I probably shouldn’t say in front of all these people,” Desmond said. There were a few onlookers on the other side of the street. No one was close enough they could hear, but it certainly wasn’t private.
“I feel like you wastin’ my time, boy. So I’m gonna put you in handcuffs for now and take you down to the station. I’ll figure out why later,” he said. He slapped cuffs on Desmond, whose dick burst into life when Auffernan’s hands gripped his wrists.
As soon as he was in the back of the cop car, Desmond caught a whiff of leather and sweat and uniformed musk. He took a deep breath before Officer Auffernan got in the front seat and drove off.
“Well, boy, out with it. What ain’t ya wanna say in public?”
“I’ve heard you… sometimes take young black men and have your way with them, and-“
“You one of them Black Lives Matter folks?” He looked away from the steering wheel, frowning at Desmond.
“No, sir.” Desmond’s heart nearly pounded out of his chest. “I was hoping you’d have your way with me.”
Auffernan paused, then let out a long, booming laugh. “Well, boy,” he said. “First of all, I do not have my way with black men, or wit’ no one I arrest. That would be a crime.”
“Certainly.”
“Let’s say if’n I was gonna do somethin’ like that, I wouldn’t be targetin’ black folks. I love black folks. My deputy is as black as night,” Auffernan said. His squad car glided down the moonlit street. “But I don’t like thugs. I don’t like cocky thugs comin’ down here and making a stink in my nice little town.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You ain’t a thug.”
“No, sir.”
“So you see my problem, boy?”
“You won’t abuse me because I’m not a thug?”
“I ain’t say that. I don’t abuse no one.”
“Would it help if I acted like a thug?”
“Boy, you the queen of all the sissies.” Auffernan said. “I doubt you could pull that off.”
Desmond knew Auffernan was right. He could not pull off a thug act. He tried his best though. He leaned back in the backseat and gave off the disaffected air of a real thug. “You, pig, you best jerk ma dick like ya life depends on it, muddahfuckah-“
“That ain’t workin’. You about as thug as Urkel, boy,” Auffernan said. He sniffled and sighed. “You know I gotta charge you, right? I called this in. There gonna be questions if I just let you go.”
“That’s fine.”
“Gonna be a two hundred dollar fine,” Auffernan said.
“I can afford it.”
“Well hell, ain’t you the uppity kind? You loaded or what?” Auffernan said with a laugh. He made eye contact with Desmond in the rearview mirror.
“Not exactly loaded,” Desmond said. “But I can afford a couple fines.”
Auffernan pulled into the parking lot of the police station. It was a tiny building, barely bigger than an efficiency apartment. Auffernan dragged Desmond out of the back seat. Desmond struggled like a thug the best he could.
“Yo, pig, get off me!”
Auffernan dragged him to his feet. He whistled. “You really like it when it hurts, huh?” He tightly gripped Desmond’s arm with one meaty hand, causing a twinge of pain where Desmond’s wrists were bound.
“Yes, officer. Pig. Go fuck a donut.”
As he walked him to the front door, Auffernan snorted in derision. “Shit, most thugs get more creative than that, boy.” He slapped his thigh.
“I’ll work on that,” Desmond said. He followed Auffernan inside the police station.
There was no one inside. It was just an open room with a few desks scattered about, and at one end was an office — Auffernan’s, presumably. The other end had two small jail cells. That was where Auffernan led Desmond. He added a second pair of handcuffs attaching the first pair around Desmond’s wrists to the cell bars, so Desmond was forced to face away from the rest of the station. “You wait there, bitch. Gonna make you show a little respec’.”
Desmond shuddered. He felt sure Auffernan was going to do it now, and his dick raged in his pants. He had trouble sounding like a thug when he was so horny and so desperate to be submissive. “Who you calling a bitch, pig?”
There was a loud clattering noise, then Auffernan loudly locked the front door. “You shouldn’t be comin’ ‘round to my town and insultin’ me, boy.”
“You evolved in a cave, cracker!”
That made Auffernan stop walking. His menacing cop routine vanished. “What?”
Desmond dropped his thug act as well. “It’s a Five-Percenter thing.”
There was another long silence. “What?”
“Five-Percenters. They believe white people evolved in a cave… Nevermind,” he said. “It’s just what I thought a thug might insult you with-“
“Ain’t all people evolve in a cave? Like cavemen?”
Desmond shrugged. “I dunno. I guess so.”
“Every black person I ever arrested was better at insulting me than you is,” Auffernan said with a sigh. “Even this deaf motherfucker I arrested a couple years back.” Auffernan was right behind Desmond now, unbuttoning his shirt. Desmond moaned.
Desmond could hear Auffernan taking his clothes off but couldn’t see him. The police station had become dark since Auffernan turned the lights off, leaving only the illumination of the emergency lighting in the jail cell.
“Sorry,” Desmond said. “I’ll try to get better.”
“You want something to bite on, boy?” Auffernan asked. He was right behind Desmond now, so close his breath condensed on Desmond’s cheek. He wrapped a piece of red vinyl cloth in front of Desmond’s face, like a tether he could bite on.
As Desmond opened his mouth to let it in, he realized what it was — a Confederate flag. That made him feel even hornier, and he wished he could take his pants off.
“Ain’t nothing racist about me using this flag, boy. ‘S just about culture and heritage, not race,” Auffernan said. “You got that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I use this flag e’ry time I got a northerner come down here, need to be reminded he ain’t from ‘round these parts,” Auffernan said.
“You fucking honky,” Desmond said. He meant for it to sound threatening, but it came out like a seductive groan as the situation made him aroused and panty.
“You gonna jerk me off, boy.”
“Yes, oh god yes!”
“T’weren’t a question,” Auffernan said. “It was a prediction.” He uncuffed Desmond from the cell bars, leaving his wrists cuffed together. He pushed Desmond to his knees. “You ain’t gonna bite me, right?”
“I won’t bite! I promise!”
“I’m sure you won’t. And you got nice soft lips, so I think I’m gonna like this,” Auffernan said. He had a wide, strapping body and a furry blond chest. He had unbuttoned his uniform shirt but not taken it off, revealing a Confederate flag wifebeater underneath, torn and stained with sweat around the armpits. Auffernan still wore his black uniform slacks.
“Can I lick your armpits, officer?”
Auffernan sneered in disgust. “Yes, but you can’t enjoy it. That’s gross,” he said.
“Fuck you, pig, you can’t tell me what to do. Muddahfuckah,” Desmond said. He smiled and attacked Auffernan’s left pit. He inhaled deeply and licked the hairs there, tasting the stale salt of past sweats sticking to his skin. He managed to gag in an authentic way — it was musky and disgusting in an objective sense, so it was easy to respond like it was foul, even if Desmond actually loved it. “Oh god yes,” Desmond said as he moved to the other armpit. “Don’t make me suck on your balls next.”
Auffernan chuckled. “You like swallowin’ white balls?”
“I like the taste of redneck balls.”
Auffernan’s eyes flashed darkly. “I don’t like it when people who ain’t rednecks call me a redneck. Seems kinda like a slur,” he said.
“Let’s talk punishment, hillbilly,” Desmond said before diving his head between Auffernan’s legs. He still wore his slacks so Desmond’s tongue wettened the fabric, which was salty and sour.
“Oh now, I ain’t a hillbilly. I ain’t that rural,” Auffernan said as he undid his belt. His pants fell to his ankles, and he had on a pair of white briefs, dingy and grayed. His cock and balls bulged, thick pubic hair sneaking around the edges of the fabric.
Desmond whistled. “You sure you ain’t part black? You got a massive slab of meat there, ‘specially for a redneck.”
“You just tryin’-a piss me off now, boy.”
“I’ve been trying to piss you off since you arrested me,” Desmond said. He used his teeth to bite the elastic of the briefs, then awkwardly pulled them down — he was still handcuffed, so that was the only way to do it. He had never done this with briefs before — only boxers, but he had ample experience with them — and it was awkward. Auffernan looked down at him with his arms folded over his chest.
“There’s a part of my ballsac-” the way he drawled out ballsac to last for what seemed like ten syllables to Desmond — “thass always itchin’ me, boy. I wanna see if yo’ tongue can scratch that itch.”
As much as a part of Desmond wanted to go right for the dick, which was plump and already stirring with a trace of erection, he wanted to drag this out as long as possible. He stuck his head between Auffernan’s legs and licked his balls.
They were thick and heavy, dripping with sweat — there was air conditioning in the station, but it did not seem to be effective, and the building remained extraordinarily hot, making Auffernan’s balls slippery. The sweat flowed from those hairy balls right down Desmond’s greedily guzzling throat. The musty, salty flavor exploded on Desmond’s tongue, and he gurgled as he savored it.
Auffernan pointed to the rear of his balls, having to awkwardly reach behind his own ass to get his finger there. “Right there,” he said. The spot was right where his scrotum met his taint, and it was covered in sweat-stickied hairs.
Without taking Auffernan’s overflowing ballsac from his mouth, Desmond stretched his tongue out to that spot. The taste was grimy and dirty, making Desmond moan around the flesh that quivered in his mouth. He had to strain to get his tongue out that far, but when he touched it, Auffernan grunted.
“Damn, you one hell of a ballslurper,” Auffernan said as though he was shocked. “Ain’t nevuh had no one suck my balls who really liked it, I guess.” His dick sprang to full erection above Desmond’s face, and it twitched every time Desmond lapped at Auffernan’s sensitive sac.
Goober in. Auffernan, you there? What’s up?”
Auffernan reached to the uniform shirt that he had placed on a nearby desk. He grabbed the radio mic off it and said to Desmond, “This is that black deputy I was tellin’ you about. He always messin’ wit’ pinkboys. Keep quiet fo’ now,” Then he spoke into the mic. “Hey, Goober. Nothin’ going on right now. I picked up a drunk boy. You might have some interest in him.”
A long pause. Crap. My wife’s gonna kill him. Rashaad right? He promised he wouldn’t drink outside the home. Was he on liquor? His mom made him promise only beer-
“Nah, stop, Goober, no-” Auffernan said until Goober stopped talking long enough that Auffernan could transmit. “Nah, not one of yer boys like yer son. I just mean he’s black.”
Oh, well, whatever. You givin’ him the standard welcome?
“Even as we speak,” Auffernan said with a chuckle. “He got a real sour look on his face, and he making these chipmunk sounds.” He held the mic near Desmond’s face so the sound of his moist sputtering could be heard. “You hear that?”
Not really. Just sounds like static. I’m sure it’s a pretty sound. You tell him to keep it real for me, Auffernan. I’m-a go serve that warrant now.
“Roger that,” Auffernan said. He put the radio mic down. Then he looked down at Desmond’s red face and bugging eyes. “You keep it real, okay?”
“Yes, officer,” Desmond said through the balls filling up his mouth.
“You ready to swallow that dick?”
His dick had gotten rock-hard from Desmond’s attention to his balls, and from his position underneath the massive cop, Auffernan’s cock took up almost all of Desmond’s field of vision. He gurgled his excited agreement around the ballflesh overflowing from his throat, which continued to send trickles of tasty fluids down Desmond’s throat.
He pulled away, keeping his mouth open so Auffernan could see the pool of drool and sweat that had collected in the back of his mouth. He stuck his tongue out and licked the entire shaft from root to tip. It twitched. With his tongue, Desmond traced the veins that ran up the side of the shaft. He choked up plenty of spit, which ran down Auffernan’s dick into his bushy forest of crotch hair.
Auffernan lost his disaffected pose, and he shuddered, pleasure visibly rippling through him. His arms were crossed over his chest, but as Desmond licked, he clutched at his body and played with his nipples as though uncontrollably aroused.
“Shit, yeah!” Auffernan muttered. “You do that good!” Desmond swallowed his precum-leaking cocktip, letting that mess of fluids in his mouth leak out and down Auffernan’s shaft to moisten it up. Auffernan sighed. He leaned against the cell bars. “Shit…”
Desmond began deep-throating him in earnest, working his dick all the way down his throat. He was an expert cock-sucker, so he didn’t need to gag on it, but he liked to, both because it was enjoyable on its own terms and because it made Auffernan get cockier, which turned Desmond on.
“You can’t handle this much meat, huh?”
He didn’t want to stop to answer, so Desmond just said ‘no, it’s too much!’ around the meat in his throat. All that came out was a gurgling sound, but Auffernan seemed to get the gist of what he was saying.
“Lemme lube it up some,” Auffernan said. He very slowly spat, letting a thick wad of saliva drip down, plopping onto Desmond’s upper lip as he slid down the shaft.
Desmond suckled the spit into his mouth as he stretched his jaw and got all the way down. Then he let that spit roll out down Auffernan’s shaft, as Auffernan grunted. His knees buckled. His balls crawled up in his sac as though about to cum, but then Auffernan removed Desmond’s face from his cock. He lightly slapped it.
“You’s tryna’-a make me cum too early,” he said. “I’m cornholin’ you in the ass, boy. Ain’t gonna let you cum neither.” He chuckled throatily. “You ain’t gettin’ outta here with an intact booty. No way. Not on Auffernan’s watch.”
“Never, you fuckin’ pig!” Desmond said. He stood up, taking a deep breath now that his throat was clear. He grabbed the cell bars with his cuffed wrists and stuck his ass out a bit to give Auffernan a good angle. “I’ll fuck you up, officer!”
“Speaking of pigs,” Auffernan said as he rammed his dick in. A jolt of pain shot up Desmond’s spine, and he howled. Auffernan gripped him by the waist. “Lemme hear you squeal.”
Desmond squealed as loud as he could. He wasn’t sure how pig-like it was, but it was an animalistic squeal anyway. The cock in his ass pushed in a little farther, pulsating deep within him. It awakened a chord of intense pleasure that sounded up from his booty, traveling up his spine and hitting him with a wave of exquisite sensations.
“That ain’t a pig. You just squealed like a… big, retarded rooster,” Auffernan said. “Try it again. Like this.” Then he made a rough, honking noise — to Desmond, he wanted to say it sounded like an angry goose. But he didn’t argue, the pleasure exploding in his ass was too intense to form any words. He just made the sound the best he could.
Auffernan’s dick was all the way in him now, and Desmond’s prostate throbbed with every thrust of his cock. He squealed again, making that angry goose sound.
“Hey, here, make that sound again,” Auffernan said, shoving the radio mic in front of Desmond’s face. He pushed the ‘transmit’ button.
Desmond squealed as loud as he could to be sure the mic could pick it up. The pain was melting away now as his ass loosened up, and Auffernan’s cock flowed in and out easily. Auffernan slammed with all his mind, ramming Desmond into the cell bars with each thrust of his hips.
After a few seconds, there was a click, and then Deputy Goober’s bass laughter came out of the radio.
There a pig loose in the station, hoss? Want me to get the assholes at Animal Control?
“Nah, I got this piggie under control. He just makin’ noise to let me know he feel strongly ‘bout what’s happenin’ to him,” Auffernan said into the radio. Then he whispered into Desmond’s ear, “Alright, boy, I’m-a give you this flag to bite on again.”
The cold vinyl Confederate flag again pushed between Desmond’s lips. He bit down hard, which made the plowing a little easier to take. The fabric was thick enough to have some purchase, so he could relieve the pressure he felt with a strong clamp of his teeth on the flag. As he did so, he bucked his ass backward, forcing it deep onto Auffernan’s cock — he wanted to make this as good as possible for Officer Auffernan, who groaned appreciatively. That groan turned into a shudder like he was holding back his orgasm.
“Fuck yeah,” Auffernan said. He looked around as though checking for anyone else in the station, then whispered again. “Look… I learned somethin’ in the military, a sorta rule. I don’t follow it on the force,” he said. “Cuz normally I only cornhole pissheads.” He took a deep breath. His hands reached around Desmond’s body, squeezing first his nipples as though Auffernan hoped to find tits there. Then his hands roamed lower down until they came to Desmond’s rock-hard cock. Auffernan pulled away for a moment like he was scared. Then he resumed touching and even stroking Desmond’s dick with one hand, while his other hand held the flag in place in Desmond’s mouth. Auffernan moaned, sounding a little disgusted. “My drill sergeant said you can ram a man in the ass, but you gotta give a reacharound. It’s against the rules otherwise.”
“Really?” Desmond asked through gritted teeth, his voice muffled by the flag that was still in his mouth.
Auffernan shrugged. “I’m sure that wasn’t a real Army rule or nothin’. Just what my drill sergeant was into,” he said. “You ever tell anyone, I will get you locked up — not here where you gonna get rammed all the time neither, I’ll get you locked up somewhere terrible where the guards are all fat.”
“Won’t. Tell.” Desmond could barely speak. His ass was on fire with orgasmic energy, while his dick pulsated beneath Auffernan’s fingers. He wished he could prolong it, but he was already bucking and shooting his load. All it took was a few strokes from a massively muscled alpha like Officer Auffernan.
“Dang, boy, you nut fast!” Auffernan let out a wolf whistle.
Semen sprayed across Auffernan’s fingers and into the cell, dripping all over the floor and coating the cell bars in Desmond’s cream. Desmond groaned loudly, and then Auffernan did likewise, but with a more grossed-out tenor, his hand still stroking Desmond’s orgasming cock. He lifted the fingers of his other hand to Desmond’s face, where he wiped cum the cum off his hands onto Desmond’s cheeks.
Then he took both ends of the flag in his hands, pulling tight so Desmond’s head was forced upward. As though he needed to reassert his masculinity after touching Desmond’s cock, Officer Auffernan began pounding his dick in and out, all the way with each powerful stroke. That only continued Desmond’s orgasm.
“Take it, boy,” Auffernan said, growling through gritted teeth. Just as he was saying boy, his voice broke and the first jet of cum hit Desmond’s ass. He continued longdicking through the shoulder-shaking power of his orgasm.
Desmond shuddered and squeezed as though trying to hold on to Auffernan’s cock with his ass. A huge load of cum sprayed into his guts, and a seeping warmth spread to his guts. Desmond moaned along with Auffernan as jet after jet of white-hot cum coated his insides.
That orgasm seemed to last forever. Desmond’s had begun when Auffernan jacked him off and continued through Auffernan’s climax, and even now, Auffernan’s cock spurting out the last of his cum, Desmond writhed and gasped as ecstasy coursed through his veins. His prostate thrummed and hummed, and Desmond struggled against the handcuffs binding his wrists together.
At last, when his balls were good and drained, Auffernan pulled out and Desmond breathed a sigh of relief. His ass felt cold and empty. He stayed there, bent over and with a Confederate flag in his mouth — Auffernan no longer held on to it, so Desmond could have spat it out anytime. He didn’t want to though. He wondered how many other men had bit this flag while they got rammed. He hoped it was a lot. Maybe that was why Auffernan used it. Maybe he liked the flag soaking up all the ass-pain sweat and drool of the men he ramrodded.
Officer Awful. That was what they called him. Desmond had heard about that, and he came running to this tiny town so he could run into him.
As Desmond recovered from his orgasm, he turned his head to see Auffernan writing him a ticket. He was still naked, his sweaty body swaying, limp dick moist with cum and assjuice. Auffernan put the ticket in Desmond’s hand.
“Here you go, boy. That’ll be two hundred dollars. You can pay at the county courthouse.” Public intoxication was checked, but at the bottom of the list of possible charges, Auffernan had written in, inappropriate squealing, and checked that box as well.
“If I don’t pay, do I get to stay here?” Desmond asked with a grin and a gasp.
“That is exactly correct,” Officer Awful said.