Didier stood there, unseen by the two men, transfixed. He found this particular kind of rough, abusive sex rather repulsive, but he could see how desperately excited Franck was—how hard his buddy’s neglected cock was, as he struggled to satisfy his aggressive, demanding cop lover. Franck had admitted to his roommate, of course, that he’d been giving it away to the cop for free, and that he’d learned to like it rough. But Didier hadn’t guessed just how far his buddy had debased himself. Franck was Brun’s sex slave, all right—his willing chattel, to whom the cop could do anything he cared to, no matter how degrading or perverse!
Didier might have been less shocked had Franck been doing this for money, with a paying john. That would’ve been understandable—even praiseworthy, from Didier’s somewhat morally warped point of view. But no, the dumb whore was giving it away to the cop for free! He’d become a copsucker and a copfucker, to coin a phrase. Talk about a crime!
Despite his innate dislike of cops and all which they represented, Didier had to admit, grudgingly, that Brun was one hot number. He had a really sexy body, all hard, bulging muscle, and no surplus fat. His stiffened meat, resembling an especially large, succulent sausage, was slapping against Franck’s face at the moment, as Franck made frantic efforts to obey the cop by sniffing and licking down below the base of the erection. Didier could tell that his friend was getting extremely turned on by the submissive role he was playing.
Brun backed away, his big cock, now fully hard and looking more than ever like a phallic weapon capable of doing some real damage to a sex partner, swaying provocatively in front of his crotch.
“Now you’re going to eat out my cop ass, you whore bitch,” Brun decreed. “I want that tongue to scrub my goddamn hole!”
Which is precisely what Franck did. Willingly! Eagerly! As Didier watched, fascinated, becoming increasingly aroused despite his revulsion by the two men’s lewd interaction, Brun turned himself around, within the circle formed by Franck’s embracing arms. Bending over, Brun pushed his butt back into Franck’s face.
“Rim me, slave,” the cop ordered. “Suck my ass!”
But his words were superfluous. Franck, with his arms thrown around his cop lover’s hips, had already shoved his face between the firm cheeks of Brun’s ass. He pressed himself in so tightly that he looked as though he was in danger of smothering in that ass crack. As Franck began rooting around with his lips and tongue, Brun groaned, exultantly, “Oh, yeah, boy! Oh, yeah! That’s how a dirty little slut like you ought to suck a cop’s ass! You keep up that hot tongue action, punk, and you just might earn some more of my belt applied to your butt, after all!”
Brun still had the belt, wrapped around his wrist, dangling free from it. Now, obviously inflamed by the lewd, tickling licking of Franck’s tongue, which had penetrated his anal pucker and was industriously swabbing away at the flesh tucked away just beyond the flexing sphincter muscle, he shuddered from head to foot in sexual ecstasy. He raised the belt—which he savagely brought down upon Franck’s buttocks, again and again. Without mercy, he belted that hot, butch, squirming ass!
“Stick it in there! I want to feel that tongue of yours all the way up inside my hole!” the cop shouted.
Didier could endure no more. He took a step forward, into the room. His own cock, agonizingly hard, pleading silently for relief, preceded him.
“What the hell are you guys doing?” Didier demanded.
Both of the other men looked up at the sound of his voice, staring at him.
Brun was unfazed. If anything, being caught in the act seemed to amuse him. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m beating your buddy Franck’s punk ass for him,” he boasted. “And he’s taking it, and getting off on it. You got a problem with that?”
“No,” Didier said, warily.
“Good. Join us, if you want to.”
“I have better taste than my buddy. I don’t fuck around with lousy cops!”
Far from being offended, Brun seemed to find this insult hilarious. “You’d change your tune real fast, once you got this nightstick of mine in your mouth—or up your ass.”
“Too bad you’ve got some self-esteem issues, officer,” Didier dared to say. “Namely, an excess of self-esteem! But from my point of view, you’ve got a lot to be modest about.”
Brun still refused to lose his composure. “If you’ll excuse me—I’ve got a boy here who needs fucking.” With a shrug, the cop pushed his butt more firmly against Franck’s face, grinding his asshole against the boy’s mouth. “Give that cop hole of mine a few more good licks,” he told Franck, “and then I’ll shove my dick up your ass. I think you’ve earned that. And your good-looking buddy might enjoy seeing you get screwed.”
Oh, so you think I’m good-looking, do you? Didier thought. He disliked and distrusted Brun. But he was now willing to concede that the cop had good taste!
When he’d had enough of the rimming, Brun stepped back. He picked up the inhaler from the coffee table, and pressed it to Franck’s nostrils. As Franck inhaled, greedily, Didier caught the sharp, pungent odor of the amyl. Brun applied the cylinder to his own nostrils, and then he tossed it to Didier.
“Help yourself,” he invited Didier.
Didier was no fool. He was wary of Brun, but he wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to enjoy a recreational drug, free of charge. He snorted the amyl, too.
Meanwhile, Brun looked down, his barrel chest heaving, his gray eyes suddenly blazing with cruelty and lust, at Franck, who cringed there on the couch.
“I want that ass of yours good and hot when I fuck it,” the cop said. “Don’t move.”
Franck let out a scream when Brun brought the gleaming leather belt whistling down onto his bare rump, delivering an especially vicious, stinging blow.
“What have you got to say, boy?” Brun asked.
“Thank you, Brigadier Brun. Thank you for beating my ass!”
“You’re welcome, slave. It’s confession time, now. You’re a no-good, sneaking little thief, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And a whore.”
“That’s right, sir.”
“And you’ve broken the law more times that you can count.”
“Every chance I get, officer.”
“And your buddy, Didier, here—he’s your partner in crime, your accomplice, isn’t he?”
“I can incriminate myself,” Franck babbled. “But I’m no snitch!”
“Honor among thieves, eh? Very touching. Still, I believe some punishment is in order.”
“Yes, sir. Punish me! Beat me! Hurt me! I appreciate it, sir. I like it!”
Watching his buddy being abused, Didier breathed in the poppers, and he felt his blood begin to race, his body turn hot, and his cock pulse with excitement.
“This is revolting,” he felt obligated to say. “How can you let him do that to you, Franck?”
Brun laughed. “I think I can speak for Franck, when I assure you, Didier—he finds it easy to allow me to use him. And pleasurable. I’m surprised an open-minded young man like you is so judgmental.”
Brun continued to beat Franck’s ass. Each stroke of the improvised whip seemed to be more brutal than the one before it. As Didier, now undisguisedly excited, watched, fascinated, Franck’s muscular ass grew red and welted. Didier walked over to the couch to get a better look at the torture. As though seeking comfort, Franck threw his powerful arms around Didier’s waist and drew his head into Didier’s lap, his face resting against Didier’s crotch, his ass raised high to receive blow after fierce, punishing blow from the belt. Brun lashed him without any letup, grunting with satisfaction each time his strokes drew a shriek of agony from the cringing, naked young stud whom he was whipping so savagely.
Didier could hear Franck moaning and whimpering, faintly, during the brief intervals between blows. Whenever the belt did strike him, Franck yelled loudly again. Didier saw that Brun’s gray eyes were glittering with sadistic glee, and that his rock-hard prick had a drop of pre-cum
leaking out of its pouting piss slit.
Panting, the cop tossed the belt aside, and he paused to catch his breath.
“That’s hard work. I just beat your ass for you, slave,” he gasped. “What’ve you got to say about that?”
“Thank you, sir. Thank you so much for beating me, sir!” Franck moaned. “I deserved that punishment.”
Didier shook his head. “Sick,” he muttered. “This whole scene is sick. Brun, you’re such a perv!”
“Oh, only moderately perverse, compared to some guys I could name,” Brun quipped. “Give me the inhaler, will you, Didier? Thanks. Take some more popper, Franck. Take a lot. I want you to be really hot, boy, because it’s time for your ass to get fucked, now that it’s been well warmed up by the belt. And I want you to suck your buddy’s big dick while you take mine up your ass.”
Franck breathed in the fumes, and then he handed the inhaler to Brun, who took a strong double sniff and then passed it on to Didier to use.
“Put one knee up on the couch, slave, so your asshole’ll be wide open for my cock. That’s right. Good boy.” Brun knelt on the couch cushions behind Franck and thrust the head of his massive hard-on against his asshole—without any lube, Didier noticed. Franck, anticipating the worst, buried his face in Didier’s groin and gripped his roommate with his strong arms, whimpering.
Brun shoved forward.
“Ow!” The cry of pain seemed to echo off the living room walls and linger in the air even after Franck cut it short, with an agonizing, rasping intake of breath. Brun had gotten into fucking position, put his hands on Franck’s shoulders to steady him, and, taking a firm grip, he had driven his ruthless, unlubricated prick all the way into Franck at once.
“Oh, please, go easy, sir,” Franck begged. “It hurts!”
“Shut up,” the cop said. “Suck your buddy’s nice big cock. That ought to keep you quiet.”
Quickly, Franck obeyed, and Didier looked down and watched his cockshaft disappear between his friend’s rounded, wide-stretched lips.
“Yeah, suck it, buddy,” Didier gasped, caught up in the lurid atmosphere of rough, raunchy sex which Brun had created. “You little freak! You like what this dirty cop is doing to you, don’t you? You’re getting off on all of this kinky shit! You want to be a fucking sex slave? Then be one! Take my dick all the way down your throat and suck the hell out of it, while your cop boyfriend’s big stud cock pounds your ass. Suck it, dude. Harder—harder! Oh, yeah, you cocksucker! That’s the way! Just like that, suck it just like that—!” After pausing to snatch a quick, much-needed breath, and another snort of the amyl, Didier raised his head and stared Brun in the face. “Fuck him, man,” Didier urged the cop. “Fuck his ass!”
“Yeah,” Brun gloated. “Let’s both use this punk!”
Franck remained kneeling on the couch between the two men, a shuddering, tortured mass of hard, flexed muscles, while Brun pitilessly pumped his cock deep into his anus, with long, steady strokes—and Didier fucked his face. Franck grunted around the thick cock in his mouth when each new stroke made by his cop fucker ravaged his tight asshole, forcing it open to accept the big fuck tool with which Brun was screwing him.
“Fucked!” Brun growled, between thrusts. “Fucked! That’s what you want, boy, and that’s what I’m doing to you. I’m fucking that hot whore ass of yours, as hard as I can. And you’re loving it, aren’t you? Of course you are, because you really get off on being taken by that cop dick of mine. My cock must be tearing your ass apart. Take it, slave. Take it, and enjoy it. That’s right, take my cock, and get fucked!”
“This is disgusting,” Didier protested, with a grimace. But, somewhat hypocritically, he continued to fuck Franck’s mouth and throat.
With his face streaked with sweat, the cop turned his head toward Didier and grinned at him. “You wouldn’t say that if you were the one with this big nightstick of mine shoved up your ass, reaming you out. You’d be begging for it, too.”
“Not likely.”
“We’ll see,” Brun suggested, rather ominously.
It wasn’t long before Didier came. Bucking his hips to fuck his buddy’s handsome face even more roughly, pushing his dick even deeper down that gaping throat to rape it with brutal satisfaction, he suddenly exploded. He came in a rush of hot, creamy fluid, which seemed to go on and on, spurt after wet spurt. Franck choked and sputtered, but he continued to slurp away on his friend’s unloading cock, even though the froth of white semen escaped from his busily milking lips and dribbled down his chin.
“Yeah,” Brun said, observing Didier’s ejaculation with approval. “My turn, now. I’m going to breed this bitch’s hole!”
Pumping away inside Franck’s spasming anus as rapidly as he could, the cop blew his own wad. Coming, he jabbed his erupting prick even harder into the boy’s convulsively responsive asshole, cursing as he did so.
Didier stepped backward, withdrawing his spent cock from between Franck’s lips. Brun also pulled his prick out of Franck’s ass.
After resting for a minute or two, Brun staggered to his feet and he helped Franck to get up, too. Franck stood there, wavering, looking close to passing out from the amyl he’d inhaled and the rough treatment his cop fucker and his roommate had inflicted upon him.
“Are you all right, dude?” Didier asked his roommate, solicitously.
Dazed though he was, Franck smiled at him. “Couldn’t be better,” he mumbled. “Damn! What a hot fuck! He’s thrown some good ones into me, but this one was the best yet. He really used my hole. And, dude—I loved it when you fucked my face like that, the whole time he was fucking me. Talk about hot!”
Didier shook his head in disbelief—and lingering disapproval.
Brun smiled at him, in a way which was somewhat condescending. “Don’t worry. Your buddy—or should I call him your ‘partner in crime?’—he’ll be fine. I’ll clean him up a little, and put him to bed. Why don’t you pour us both another glass of wine?”
Didier scowled. “I don’t know where you were raised, man, but in this house we say ‘please.’ You might want to try it sometime.”
“Yes, it always seems to get results when Franck, here, says things like ‘please fuck me harder, sir.’ You may have a point,” Brun conceded, with elaborate sarcasm. “So—please may I have another glass of wine? And will you please join me?”
“Yeah, you may, yeah, I will—and then you can go fuck yourself, cop,” Didier fumed.
Brun only laughed, as he led Franck to his bedroom.
He returned a moment later, still unselfconsciously nude, looking and acting—Didier noted, with irritation—as though he owned the place.
“Franck’s sleeping like a baby,” he reported.
“Here’s your wine. I didn’t know which glass was yours, and which was Franck’s. But after what we just did, it seems kind of silly to worry about maybe drinking out of the same glass another guy has used.”
“That’s true. It doesn’t matter. Thanks. You and I, Didier—we seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot.”
“I’m not like Franck,” Didier said. “I don’t like being pushed around.”
“Maybe you just haven’t been pushed in the right direction, and by the right guy.”
“I have no interest whatsoever in that domination and submission shit, or whatever the hell you call it,” Didier insisted.
“No? You’ve never had a john who wanted to be treated rough? To be tied up, and beaten?”
“I always tell them I’m not into that kind of stuff.”
“But that’s just poor business practice,” the cop suggested. “You could make a lot more money if you’d be willing to accommodate such requests.”
“Maybe. But why don’t you leave the whoring to me—and I’ll leave the selective enforcement of the law to you?”
Brun laughed. “Touché! That’s a good one.”
The two men sat there, naked, drinking their wine.
“This is good wine,” Brun said.
; “Glad you like it, Brun.”
“Call me Charles, won’t you?”
“Franck doesn’t,” Didier pointed out.
“That would ruin his fantasy—calling me by my first name. You, on the other hand, don’t seem to have a fantasy. Not involving me, at any rate.”
“You’ve got that right—Charles. No offense, but I can take or leave you.”
The cop smiled. “But surely you don’t have to like a guy, to have satisfactory sex with him?”
“Okay—you’ve got me, there.”
“Sometimes a little hostility can make the sex hotter,” Brun suggested.
“Yeah, that’s true, too. Damn, Charles. We seem to be agreeing on certain things. If this ever got around—me, drinking with a cop, being civil to him—it could hurt my reputation around town,” Didier joked.
“Yes, you’d never live it down.”
The more he imbibed, the more relaxed Didier felt. He wondered whether it would be impolite, or less than diplomatic, if he suggested that Brun drink up, get dressed, and leave. On the other hand, and somewhat to his surprise, he wasn’t so sure he wanted the man to go. He found the sadistic police officer intriguing. He was enjoying their banter. And Didier had to admit, grudgingly, that the guy was sexy, with a great body and an impressive-looking cock. Now that he’d seen that cock in action, Didier was feeling more tolerant toward the man to whom it was attached—even though he was a cop.
Chapter Eleven: A New Recruit
Didier had allowed himself to get a little drunk.
As a result, he offered no physical resistance, when Brun moved to sit beside him on the couch. Nor did he pull away when the other man slipped his warm hand down between Didier’s legs and claimed his penis, giving it a squeeze.
“You’re hung big,” Brun whispered.
“So are you.”
“You and your buddy Franck would seem to have that in common.”
“Franck and I have a lot of things in common. I hate to tell you, but a fondness for cops isn’t one of them. So fuck off. Please.”
Cuffed by the Cop Page 14