“Now, be reasonable, son,” Brun coaxed. “Don’t you think it’s about time we got better acquainted?”
“I thought that was what we were doing—sitting here, talking, drinking—”
“I’ve had enough to drink. Sex, though—that’s something I never seem to get enough of. I bet you feel the same way.”
Didier grunted, noncommittedly. The hand on his cock, holding it, massaging it, coaxing it quickly into erection, felt so good that he leaned back against the couch and let Brun grope him, saying nothing. He didn’t protest at first, either, when the cop made it clear he expected Didier to reciprocate. Brun’s hand reached out, grasped Didier’s wrist, and guided Didier’s hand to his own lap. Out of mere politeness, more or less, Didier stroked the policeman’s stiffening penis, gently, admiringly.
“This is kid stuff, Charles,” Didier objected, finally. “Mutual masturbation—hell, that isn’t even real sex, in my book!”
“But it’s a start. It’s foreplay,” Brun suggested. “And it usually leads to other things. Now, I want you to go down on me, boy. Suck my cock.”
“No, thanks. I’m not your ‘boy,’ cop, and I know this may come as a big surprise to you, but I don’t want to suck your cock.”
“No?” Brun looked and sounded amused. “Who do you think you’re kidding?”
“A big, dumb cop,” Didier retorted. “Who thinks he’s God’s gift to gay men, and nobody can resist him. I guess the dude needs to have his ego taken down a peg or two.”
“And you’re the guy who’s going to do that?”
“Sure, why not? Do you think you’re the first pumped-up, macho queer cop I’ve run into? I managed to resist them all, somehow. Why shouldn’t I resist you? What makes you so different—so irresistible?”
During this conversation, the two men had continued to manipulate each other’s cocks—which seemed to contradict what Didier was saying.
“You can suck mine, if you want to,” Didier offered, after Brun had said nothing for a moment. “I don’t mind.”
“Generous of you.”
“You know you want to,” Didier said. “In fact, I’m in such a generous mood, I just might fuck your cop ass—the same way you fucked Franck’s.” Didier punctuated this statement with a hearty laugh. “Make you my bitch—yeah, that’d be fun.”
“I’m sure it would, in the unlikely event it ever happens. Why don’t we continue this discussion where we can be more comfortable?” Brun suggested. “Since you and Franck have separate bedrooms—?”
“Sure. We can go into mine,” Didier said.
He led the way.
Brun picked up the inhaler, and followed Didier.
In the bedroom, they passed the amyl back and forth.
“You’ve already gotten me half drunk,” Didier complained, happily. “Now are you trying to get me high, too, so you can take advantage of me?”
Brun smiled. “Can you be taken advantage of so easily?”
“No. I’m not like Franck. Excuse the mess,” Didier muttered, as the popper rush hit him. His bed was unmade, and his clothes were strewn about, in the disorder typical of a young man for whom housekeeping wasn’t a high priority. “I do try to tidy up, when I know I’m going to entertain a trick in here.”
Brun smiled. “A trick? Or a john?”
“Both have been known to be invited in here, as you well know,” Didier admitted. “Which are you going to be?”
“I’ve never had to pay for sex.”
“No, you just blackmail guys like Franck into giving it to you for free, in exchange for keeping your mouth shut. Same thing, so far as I can see. Oh, and while we’re on the subject—don’t even think of trying to pull that kind of shit with me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Brun said—although his facial expression and tone of voice suggested a certain degree of insincerity.
“I guess you think you’re a big, tough guy, because you’ve got that badge pinned on your chest—when you’re dressed,” Didier said, cuttingly. “Stripped down, though, you’re not so much.”
“You think not?”
“I know not. That is—I’m not impressed.”
“I like defiance—up to a point. After that, it can get to be annoying.” Brun spoke, now, in that soft but steely tone of which Didier had heard him use with Franck. “I think it’s time I put you in your place. I told you before to suck my cock, and you refused. Big mistake, on your part. But I’m willing to give you a second chance. You know you want to blow me. Don’t pretend—”
“Try pretending yourself, cop,” Didier retorted. “See if you can convince me you’re not a pussy wimp, all talk and no action.”
Didier was excited, as he deliberately tried to push the other man’s buttons, hoping to get a response from him. He felt a strange new desire welling up within him—an urge to be dominated, punished, and humiliated. Just like Franck! A little while ago, he’d been mystified and disgusted by his buddy’s submissive behavior. Now, inexplicably, he seemed to understand it—and, worse, he wanted to experience Franck’s shame, for himself! His cock swelled.
“Come on, cop,” he taunted Brun, recklessly. “You can drop the tough act. Stop playacting. You’re the one who’s going to get down on his knees and suck some dick, this time. We both know you’re dying to swing on this moneymaker of mine. Hell, I’m feeling in a good mood tonight, and generous. I won’t charge you for it—this time. So stop denying yourself what you want so badly. Put my cock in your mouth and suck it!”
Smiling a little, Brun did begin to kneel. When his face was about a foot below Didier’s, level with his chest, he looked up. Didier was smirking down at him, his face triumphant. There was a sly, knowing grin on those sensual lips of his, as he watched the cop preparing to go down on his thick, aching cock.
Didier let out a yelp when Brun’s open hand suddenly swung at his dick, slapping it—hard. So hard that it bounced back and forth in front of Didier’s groin!
“Suck it yourself, you cheap little hustler!” Brun sneered. Pushing Didier away, he stood up again.
Didier grabbed the cop in a flash of rage and he tried to throw him down on the bed, but Brun, standing straight and tall, had thrust one hand down between Didier’s legs. He slid his fingers around the male prostitute’s free-swaying balls and he began to squeeze them—hard. He could feel the two big nuts squishing around inside their hairy sac as he compressed them more and more forcefully, almost crushing them. At last, Didier let out a yelp of pain.
“Stop,” he begged.
“That’s better. That’s a much better attitude for you to have. How does that feel, boy?” Brun taunted Didier. “Having your balls squashed like this? Does it feel good? Do you like it?”
Didier was writhing in agony, but unable to pull away. “Ah!” he yelled. “Ah, shit! Cut it out, man. Please!” He let go of Brun and stepped back, trying to reach down and tear the cop’s hand away from his groin.
But Brun maintained his grip, and he used his free hand to slap Didier’s face, twice, while he squeezed his ball sac harder. “Bad boy,” Brun grunted. “Now, let’s understand each other, and establish some ground rules. Which one of us is going to do the sucking, to begin with? And which one of us is going to get fucked up the ass?”
Didier suddenly went limp against Brun’s body, and he began kissing his chest and caressing his shoulders and back, moaning, “Don’t be so rough, dude. Please—oh, please—!”
“Please what? Are you ready to beg me for something, boy?”
“Please let go of my nuts. It really hurts! Please—sir!”
“Ah, that’s more like it. That’s the way to address an officer of the law with the proper respect.” Brun eased up on his squeezing of Didier’s balls, although he continued to hold the testicles imprisoned in his hand. “Now,” he went on, in a deceptively pleasant tone of voice, staring Didier in the eyes. “I asked you a couple of questions, remember? First, which of us do you think is going to suck the other’s cock?�
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“I am—I will, sir. I’ll suck your dick. What the fuck. I admit it. I’m a cocksucker.”
“Of course you are, and of course you will go down on me. It’s your stock in trade, after all, isn’t it? Next, which of us is going to get fucked?”
“I’m going to get fucked, sir.”
“By my cop dick,” Brun prompted.
“Yeah, by your cop dick, sir.”
“And you’re going to like it, aren’t you, slave?”
“Yeah—I’m going to love it—sir!”
“Excellent. We’re making real progress here.” Finally, Brun relinquished Didier’s balls, only to use his other hand to push the young stud’s head downward. As Didier sank to his knees, Brun seized a double handful of his disheveled hair. Tugging on it brutally, so that Didier felt a sharp pain in his scalp, the cop glared down at him. “Suck my hard dick, boy. Get to work on it with your mouth. Do a good job, and just maybe I won’t beat your ass after all. Now, start sucking! And don’t you dare stop, until I tell you to. Keep my hot, dirty cock in your mouth until I give you permission to stop sucking it.”
Watching carefully for any false move or further show of defiance on Didier’s part, Brun stood next to the bed with his legs spread, gazing down at the punk on his knees before him, who was already sucking his cock with passionate hunger. Didier’s head bobbed up and down in front of Brun’s crotch, his lips and tongue and throat conspiring to satisfy the police officer. Brun’s cock got more and more excited as the blow job progressed. Didier seemed almost frantic in his desire to suck it, Brun noticed, struck by the contrast between the way the hustler had behaved so arrogantly a few moments ago, and his eager self-abasement now. Apparently, Franck and his sexy roommate had a great deal in common!
“Suck it, boy,” Brun coached him, hoarsely. “Get it all the way down your cocksucking throat and really swing on that meat. Suck it all—and suck it good. You’d better do a good job. You’d better satisfy me, with that mouth of yours. Otherwise,” he threatened, not altogether playfully, “I may have to make sure you end up in the slammer. You’ll be on your knees there, punk, sucking off all of your dirty fellow cons, every day—and every night! When you’re not busy bending over and taking it up the ass, that is. Ha!” he laughed, mirthlessly.
Brun stepped backward, with the kneeling Didier still on his knees before him, deep-throating his dick, until he could first sit on the edge of the bed, and then stretch out on his back on it with his legs spread to make room for Didier between them. Didier followed him onto the bed without ever taking Brun’s cock out of his mouth. Once the two men were in this more comfortable position, Brun relaxed, put his hands on Didier’s head, and pushed his mouth up and down on his prick to control the oral action.
Submissively, Didier just knelt there on the mattress and sucked, letting Brun use his mouth and throat at will, grunting as he fed upon the gendarme’s cock. Brun sprawled across the bed with his prick rammed into Didier’s busy mouth. The hustler’s beautiful nude body was stretched out on the bed between the cop’s muscular, widespread legs.
“Come on,” Brun taunted his eager young cocksucker. ‘You can do better than that. Eat that meat, slave! Get your mouth down on it and swallow it. Show me whether or not you know how to suck!”
When Brun thought that he was about to shoot his wad down that greedily devouring throat, he pushed Didier’s head back and he rolled over, onto his stomach, pushing his ass back against Didier’s hot, flushed face.
“That’s enough cocksucking for now,” Brun gasped. “Now suck my ass.” He waited, but nothing happened. “Rim it, boy,” Brun demanded, angrily, when Didier continued to hesitate. “Rim it! Lick out my dirty asshole with that hot tongue of yours!”
“Fuck you, cop,” Didier spat. “Let’s see you make me do it—if you really think you’re man enough!”
Brun turned around on the bed, to stare into Didier’s aroused but defiant eyes. Then, a plan flashing into his mind, he swung himself off the bed and stood up. He looked around for something which could be used as a weapon, and he saw Didier’s discarded jeans, draped over a chain. Yanking Didier’s belt free from the belt loops of the jeans, Brun wrapped one end of it around his wrist and he returned to the bed.
Didier saw what the cop had in his hand and he groaned, but he made no effort to move away.
“You just bought yourself a whole world of pain, bitch!” Brun warned.
“You don’t have the balls—!” Didier began to bluster, when Brun went into action. He stood over Didier, who lay face down on the bed, and he smacked Didier’s ass with the belt. Didier yelled and jumped, but then he remained still, his body tense with anticipation of the next blow. It came, followed by many others.
Didier moaned loudly each time Brun struck him. The angry cop was careful to vary his target, aiming the belt not only at Didier’s butt cheeks, but at the small of his back and the backs of his thighs. One or two blows struck dangerously close to Didier’s testicles.
“You’re going to eat my ass if I have to bust your fucking balls first,” Brun decreed.
Didier cried out wildly the next time the belt lashed out at him, and Brun realized, with grim satisfaction, that the blow had fallen where it would really hurt this time, on the boy’s cock or balls. When Brun hit him again, the hustler sprang off the bed and tackled him. They wrestled, with Brun still flailing away at the other man’s naked, vulnerable body with the belt he still had in his hand. He got Didier in a wrestling grip and lashed out at him with his free arm. The belt cracked across Didier’s upper thighs, and then hit him squarely in the crotch. Didier moaned, and he went limp, after which Brun pushed him away—raising the belt in a mute threat, ready to deliver further blows, should they prove necessary.
“Get up, slave, or I’ll beat your ass until it’s black and blue,” the cop warned. “Or maybe you haven’t had enough yet?”
“Okay, I give in,” Didier mumbled. Sweating and disheveled, he looked up at Brun with fawning eyes. “I won’t give you any more trouble. I won’t disobey you again, sir.”
“You’d better not.”
“Please don’t hurt me again—”
“Stop the whining. Now, get busy. Do what I told you to do.”
Brun lay down on the bed, on his stomach. In a moment, he felt Didier climbing onto the mattress next to him. The hustler settled down between Brun’s legs and put his hands on the cheeks of the cop’s ass. Brun felt his buttocks being spreads by two warm hands, and then he felt the slippery texture of a wet tongue slithering up and down his butt crack, licking and teasing it.
“Stop fooling around, punk. I told you to eat it! Get that hot tongue of yours inside that hole and start rimming my ass. Now!”
Immediately, Brun felt hot, damp breath on his anal opening, followed by the firm, exploring touch of Didier’s tongue, which pressed against his manhole and eagerly forced its way inside. Didier drove his tongue deep into the waiting asshole and he began to fuck it with tongue, panting and slavering as he did so. Hungrily, he ate the cop’s ass. It felt good, Brun thought, to have the male whore’s face pressed between his glutes, to feel Didier’s tongue poking in and out of the pucker of his anus, rimming him so obediently.
“Now we’ll change places,” Brun announced. “I’m going to play with your ass. Finger-fuck it, get it good and hot before I fuck it.”
“Who said I’m going to let you fuck me?”
“You did, as I recall,” the cop reminded him. “You want the belt again?”
“No—no, sir.”
Nervously, Didier switched places with the other naked man, who knelt beside him on the bed. Brun put some spit onto two of his fingers, and then he felt down the crack of Didier’s butt until he reached the warm, moist, quivering asshole itself. He massaged the sphincter, gently but insistently, moving his fingertips back and forth. Next, he pushed one finger through the pucker and into Didier’s ass, first as far as the first knuckle, and then as far as the second. Didier g
roaned and wriggled, while Brun plunged the rest of the digit into him and began to finger-fuck him with it, none too gently now. The second finger was wedged into Didier’s asshole alongside the first.
Brun could hear his bedmate breathing hard, in long, sharp, labored sighs, while he trembled all over. With a smile of contempt, the policeman saw a spasm ripple through Didier’s narrow hips, as the boy made an involuntary humping movement, which drove Brun’s fingers farther up his ass.
“Well? How about it, slave?” Brun demanded.
“Okay,” Didier moaned, faintly.
“Okay, what?”
“Okay, sir—you can do it.”
“Do what?”
“Fuck me. You can fuck me! God damn it, fuck me. Fuck me—sir!”
“Mind your manners. Say ‘please,’ boy.”
“Please fuck me, sir. Please, sir, fuck my ass. Please fuck me!”
“Now you’re talking. That’s a good boy.” Brun pulled his fingers out. “Now, get up on your hands and knees, if you want to get fucked so badly. I want to shove my cock in you all the way. I want you to feel it, every inch of it, going in and out of your ass, fucking you. And then, when it’s in you all the way, I want to hear you beg me for more!”
“I won’t beg. Not to you. Not ever!” Didier swore, in a final flash of defiance.
“No? We’ll soon see about that.”
Brun took him.
Didier screamed out, uselessly, when the cop drove his huge prick straight at his ass, and his sphincter muscle yielded to the onslaught, forced to give way and stretch wide open in order to receive the invading phallic bludgeon. Brun’s nightstick of flesh and blood was rammed through Didier’s resisting manhole. It sank deep up inside Didier’s anus, in a single, remorseless lunge.
“God damn it! Help! We got a queer cop, here!” Didier shouted, praying that one of the neighbors would hear him and come to his aid. “He’s raping me! The son of a bitch is fucking my ass!”
“Rape, hell,” Brun grunted. “As though a whore like you isn’t used to spreading his ass for anybody who comes along, with a few lousy euros in his pocket!”
Cuffed by the Cop Page 15