Encounters: Abuse of Power 1

As soon as the clock strikes 5:00pm, I'm on the radio, signing off my shift and pulling into my driveway. I tell dispatch that I’m on early shift tomorrow and I'll just be keeping my squad car at home tonight. That second part's not true, but I'm sure as hell not telling them where the car will really be. Fifteen minutes later, I'm coming out of my house, changed and ready to kick some fucking punk's ass.

"Hey Officer Sean!" I hear Rick, my pervy next door neighbor, calling out to me from his front stoop. He says, "Wow, um, looking good. I can't believe how you just keep getting bigger."

I just smirk and wave, bouncing my pecs under my shirt, causing my badge to dance. Rick's always flirting with me, so why not give him a fucking thrill. He'll probably be jerking to that move for weeks. I've spent every waking minute in the gym and stuck to my rigorous diet to build this body. My arms are huge, my pecs bulging and my abs are ridiculous. I've got the best body in the precinct, maybe on the entire force, so why not show it off?

Of course, I do look especially big right now, because I'm wearing an older uniform that's a size too small for the 230-lbs of muscle I'm carrying on my 6'1" body. The top two buttons of my XL short sleeve shirt are open, but it still strains across my chest. The sleeves ride up my biceps, unable to contain my muscular arms. I’m wearing a pair of stretch pants that hug every contour of my ass and huge thighs as they taper into my shiny black boots. My gold badge, silver handcuffs and black aviator sunglasses gleam in the sun as I saunter up to my car, billy club swinging and dangling beside my crotch.

Rick looks flush. Fuck, he wants me so bad. Now, Rick's actually a cute bearded beefy bear, and I've done worse, but I like a confident man. Rick isn't. His wimpy personality just doesn't get my motor going and I bet he's a lazy, passive fuck. Anyway, he's still talking, "Department needs, you know, to get you a new shirt. And, um, some new, um, new p-pants. Oh shit. Um, I just mean, your muscles! Your muscles are gonna tear those clothes apart." Rick pauses, probably cumming in his jeans at the thought of my clothes tearing off. He continues, "I need your determination."

I just nod as he rubs his burgeoning beer belly and licks his lips. He's always angling to work out with me, but he's not serious. Rick just wants to be near me. Not that he's alone in that, but I've got no time for posers.

When I get in the car, I check myself out in the rearview mirror and psych myself up before hitting the road. I could, and probably should, do this in civilian clothes and my personal car. I know how to take care of fucking business, badge or no badge. It's just that when you pull up in a fucking cop car, it adds a whole new layer of official intimidation to the muscle. Put a police uniform over this body and my muscles go from "oh shit" to "OH SHIT".

Seth's House

I arrive at the punk's house and switch into cop mode. I don't see anyone, but the driveway is filled with three junkers. When I step out, I survey the area. No one’s around, which is a little too bad, because I do look damn good.

I open the aluminum screen door then forcefully bang on the wooden front door – doorbells are for sissies. No answer. I walk around the side and see the attached two-car garage in the back. The big door is open as is the interior door into the house. Working away is a thin guy, probably 5’11", but only 165-lbs. He’s got a dark hair, scruffy beard and a hairy body. He’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of athletic shorts. Scrawny. He's tight, but it's easy when you're that size. Anyone can have abs if you want to be a beanpole.

When he sees me, he doesn't seem surprised. The punk actually adopts a cocky attitude that's almost laughable, given our size difference.

“Yeah? What do you want?” I push my way in past him, looking around. I ignore him as he says, “What the fuck? You can’t come in here, pig! You got a warrant?”

I look around. With the garage stuck on the back of the house, no one can see in, but I still smack the button to close the main door. I don’t need any witnesses, but more importantly, I don't want a runner. Dude's still mouthing off, so I spin and grab him around the throat. I force him against the wall then ask, “Where’s Seth?”

“What the fuck, man? You can’t – URGH!” I tighten my grip to let him know I'm serious.

“I asked you a question. I’ve got some business with Seth.”

“Yeah? What business?”

“He fucked up a friend of mine. Now, I’m gonna return the favor. Now, where the fuck is he?”

“Who’s your friend?”

“None of your fucking business.”

Scrawny dude says, “Let me guess. Hm. You're a big musclebound idiot, so your friend is probably one, too. Is it ... Mark?”

I’m surprised. I am talking about a guy named Mark, who's a workout buddy of mine. Big guy, plenty of muscle. Not as much as me, but close. He came here for a wrestling match. He got trashed and fucked, which doesn't happen to friends of mine.

This punk sees the recognition in my face, confirming he's right. He laughs. “Shit, that big muscle pussy was your friend? Biggest jobber I ever fought, but what the fuck are you doing here? He said he likes it rough, kept begging me to go harder. I respect limits, man. He even said he wants to go again.”

“You? You’re Seth? Don’t make me laugh. Mark could crush you in three seconds, you scrawny piece of shit. What, is Seth your boyfriend? You protecting him?"

"I told you, I'm Seth, dumbass. Mark's a little bitch for sending the cops here. I didn't do anything he didn't want. I've got it on video." I slam him against the wall again, harder this time.

"Mark didn't send me. He didn't need to. You mess with my friend, I'm gonna mess with you." I'm telling the truth, Mark didn't tell me. He even tried to cover it up, even told me to stay out of it, but that was never going to happen. Didn't take me long to hack into his email and figure it all out.

Before I let him go, I slug this wimp in the stomach. "That's for lying to me." I move to open the big garage door, warning him, "Tell your boyfriend I'm coming back for him.”

“Whatever. I’m still trying to figure out what Mark’s up to with this bullshit move.”

“Yeah, don’t strain yourself. And don’t make threats in front of a cop, punk.”

Scrawny dude snaps his fingers. He says, “Oh, I get it. Mark knows I have a thing for cops. He sent you as a thank you for making him my bitch. Okay, that's cool. You want some, too? A little roleplay action in your stripper gear? Okay. I'm down with that.”

"Don't make me fucking laugh. I'm a real fucking cop and these?" I flex with a double bicep pose, hearing a crack in the seams of my shirt. "They're real, too."

Skinny just smirks, "Yeah, yeah. Right, I got it. You're a big bad cop. So you want the Mark treatment or not?"

"You're fucking crazy, but sure. Bring it on, you little piece of shit. You can be my warmup while I wait for Seth."

The Mark Treatment

The scrawny punk actually smiles. He comes close, charging me. I grab him around the throat again. This time, I throw him back against the wall. WHAM! He bounces off and I knee him in the gut, dropping him like he's nothing. Which he is. Pathetic. I realize I'm being stupid, acting like a bully. I decide to leave, before I really hurt the little guy.

I turn around to head out. Before I realize it, his arm comes up between my legs, slamming hard into my balls. ARGH! I have no protection in these pants. I drop to my knees in pain. Dude is already back up. He slams his fist into the back of my head. The rabbit punch topples me down, face first. His work boots rain down on my thick back, assaulting my muscles. I can take that, but he hits the back of my head and it's almost lights out.

I'm trying to get up, but the rapid assault keeps putting me down. Shit, he's faster and more powerful than I thought. I ignore the stomps, but then when I'm on hand and knees, the toe of his boot comes up between my thighs and smashes into my balls. I go down hard, crying out and my eyes watering. The punk grabs my hair and forces me up to my knees. I clutch my balls as he yanks my head back. A fist slams down onto my forehead and I go limp. I see stars as I look up at this punk laughing at me.

“You stupid pig, I told you I’m Seth. Now, I’ll prove it to you. If you thought what I did to Mark was hot, wait until I get done with you.”

I wince in pain and say, “Stop! I’m a cop –“

SLAP! Seth shuts me up with a bitchslap across my face. The punk laughs, “Fucking pussy, hiding behind that badge now? Too late for that. Once the Mark treatment starts, there's only one way it ends."

"You're under a-ARGH!" Seth kicks me in the balls with his boot. Only reason I don't go down is because he's holding my hair.

"Let's say you are a real cop. I mean, yeah, that car looks legit. So fucking what? Are you even on duty, bitch?" My eyes give me away. "Ha! Using your car and badge to settle a personal score? That can't be legal. Plus, you fucking entered illegally and assaulted me. I made sure to let you strike first.”

“No - no one will believe a piece of crap like you!”

Seth forces my head down and says, “Smile for the cameras!"

I mutter, "What the -," then I see the camera sitting on the shelf. He turns my head to each side and I see two more. I realize this is all being recorded, from three different angles. Oh motherfucker.

The punk says, "I got a monitor in here, lets me see the front of the house, bitch. I turned that shit on before you even stepped into this garage. All the proof I need. Not that it matters. I know you cops. I know your egos. Cameras or no, are you really going to press charges? Admit to all your cop buddies that a scrawny punk like me kicked your ass?”

As I kneel there, I process everything he’s saying, searching for a flaw in his logic. The biggest thing is he's right - I could never admit this piece of crap beat me up. I'm fucked three ways to Sunday unless I fight and win. While I think, Seth waits. When I don't answer, the hairy fucker grabs me by the chin, forcing me to look up his hairy torso into his cocky face.

Seth asks, taunting me, “Well? Gonna arrest me?" I say nothing. SLAP! I do nothing as he bitchslaps me across the face, hard. I topple down, only to be dragged back to my knees by my hair. He grabs my cheeks, staring down at me again. He laughs as he asks, "How 'bout now?" I say nothing and he nods, "Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

Seth releases my face and draws his hands up over his head. I assume it's a victory pose, but no. He quickly and sharply drives the sides of his hands down, slamming them against my traps in a double karate chop move that sends shockwaves of pain down my arms. He does it again, closer in to my neck and my muscles seize up. A third one has me collapsing forward, right into the growing bulge in his loose shorts. Damn, this little punk is a lot stronger than he looks!

As I nestle against his bulge, he laughs, "Typical fucking gym pussy! All show, no go. I haul shit around a garage all fucking day building real man muscles."

I moan and try to shake out my arms, but Seth gives me no time. He immediately slaps on the nerve claw, all I can do is grunt in short, high-pitched little whines. The punk's fingers are strong, digging deep into my flesh and tearing at my softened muscles. The guy knows his shit, because I'm fucking paralyzed by the pain. My nose is full of his crotch stank, as he's ripe after a long day of working in this garage, but there's more. It's a potent combination smell of his sweaty bulge, motor oil and gasoline. The pain and toxic fumes make me lightheaded and dizzy.

When he removes his fingers, I can't move my arms. Literally, they will not budge. Another fist to my forehead and I’m dazed again. Two more and I'm nearly done. Seth opens his grip on my hair and I fall back, flat on my back. The punk puts his work boot on my chest. I look up, barely able to think, but I definitely see him flexing over me.

Seth grabs hold of my ankles. He drags my carcass to the open interior door. I easily slide across the concrete garage floor. When we go over the threshold into the house, the back of my head smacks down as he yanks my 230-lbs of muscle over the step. Uh, damn, that hurts. Inside the house, I slide on tile then hardwood as feeling slowly comes back.

The Mark Treatment: Home Edition

Seth is moving around, turning on lights and positioning a couple of the garage cameras in the tacky old family room. He's taking his time, giving me a chance to get my second wind. I prop myself up, slowly rising. I'm fucking pissed and embarrassed, not only about getting my ass kicked, but also because Seth obviously doesn't take me seriously. He just lets me rise while he fools around with his cameras.

Seth says, "Wanna make sure I get this. Shit, I fucking love breaking musclemen and cocky cops. You’re like a twofer. You masochist bodybuilder bitches are the best. You spend all this time building your bodies, but all you really want is a guy like me to break it back down. I don’t get it, but why question it, right?"

I have a wicked headache, making it hard to focus. Still, I manage to grunt, "Fuck you. You had your fun. Now it's my turn, punk."

"Uh huh. Bring it on."

I charge in, barreling into him before he can move. I run him into the paneled wall, back first. WHACK! I fire a couple of hard body shots into his stomach. WHAM! WHAM! The little jerk sags in my arms. I grab him by the hair and force him back against the wall. I pin his wrists over his head with my left hand and cock back my right. The asshole actually smiles at me.

"Cool, I like it when they fight back."

"Shut up!" Not clever, but it's all I can think to say in my stupor. His cockiness is seriously pissing me off. Seth still thinks this is some kind of game.

I fire a couple more fists into his stomach. POW! POW! The guy's tough, but I'm way stronger. Now that I know what he's all about, he's dead meat. ARRRRGGGHHH! The punk slams his knee up into my balls. Aw fuck. How did I not see that coming? I barely keep my feet, leaning into him for support.

Next thing I know, he lifts his legs up and throws them around my waist. ARGH! I feel my sides collapse as he digs in with the scissors. What the fuck? I lose my grip on his wrists and stagger back. He grabs my traps to hang on me. Seth adds pressure, attacking me with another claw. ARGH! I have to cry out as he holds on, keeping the killer scissors going along with the nerve pinch.

I stagger around the room with the little punk hanging off my front. Seth leans forward, pulling his body up to mine as he releases the scissors and drops his feet to the mat. Before I know it, the scrawny asshole uses the shoulder claw to force me to bend forward, right into his rising knee. CRACK! My chin slams down and I go weak. My legs collapse under me as I struggle to stay conscious.

"I love these muscly things between your neck and your shoulders, they're like jobber handles! What're they called?"

When I don't answer, Seth squeezes harder and my arms go limp. I blurt out, "Traps! They're traps ... trapezius ... ARGH!"

Seth keeps squeezing. He holds my torso up as I sit on my ass, unable to move my arms. I can't believe it, but he's breaking my huge shoulders down, causing serious damage. I moan loudly and my head falls back like my 18" neck is spaghetti. The little man shakes me and the pain almost makes me black out. He lets go of one claw and smacks my face. SLAP! SLAP!

"Wake up, cop! Not time to sleep. Yet!"

When he lets go of the other claw, I sit for a second before he lifts his boot to my chest and kicks me onto my back. He stomps my arms with his work boots, demolishing my thick muscles. My biceps and triceps, even my forearms, change from granite to jello under his cruel torture. I cry out and moan, but he won't stop until I can't even flex my muscles.

The hairy punk grabs me around the throat and forces me to my feet. He bitchslaps my face, demanding I fight back. Something in me snaps and I get energy. I manage to push him, sending him back into the wall. He slow claps, mocking my feeble effort. I've got too much pride for that. How dare this scrawny piece of shit laugh at me? I'm a fucking 230-lbs muscleman and cop. I bring down punks like him with my bare hands every fucking day!

In a rage, I charge at the little bitch. I'll show him! I charge in, but my reactions are slowed down. Seth has time to dodge, dropping down and tripping me. I slam face first into the wood paneled wall. WHAM! I bounce back, holding my head. All I can see is stars. I hear Seth laughing and talking shit about what a big dumb fuck I am.

I wobble around, taking swings into the air. I don't know how close I come, but I hit nothing but air. I spin around like a drunk. Next thing I feel is Seth's fist slamming into my gut then another one coming across my face, slamming into my chin. WHACK! I drop down fast and hard, crumpling in a heap at his feet.

I feel his work boot resting on my pecs and more taunting talk that I can't understand. I open  and close my eyes, finally getting vision and focus back. I can't do anything other than look up at the hairy dude's maniacal face as he towers over me. I weakly writhe on the mat under his boot. Seth bends over and grabs my shirt. He tears it open, exposing my pecs and abs. I can do nothing as he mounts my waist and feels my heaving pecs.

"Nice. I can have all kinds of fun with these big bitch titties, cop."

Seth gets up then brings his work boots down on the big slabs of beef. What I've spent years building, he takes seconds to break down. He mounts my waist again and squeezes my softened pecs together, studying them. "That'll do, won't it, big man? Real nice."

Next, he starts fondling my ruined chest. Gently at first then assaulting them with fists of fury. The punk relentlessly pounds away with impunity as I'm still unable to get much strength to my arms. Every time I lift them to push him off, he bats my hands away like they were flies. Seth tenderizes my chest until my pecs are soft. The punk uses his gnarled, powerful fingers to torture my nipples. When I throw my head back and cry out, he laughs, mocking me.

Seth moves off me, sliding around back of me. He pulls me to a seated position by my hair then wraps his legs around my body. The punk locks on a full nelson. I know I could power out any time I wanted under normal circumstances, but I feel like shit. The skinny asshole squeezes hard on both holds and I feel like I'm being crushed. I'm moaning under his power, unable to fight back as he breaks me down some more.

My chin is pressed into my chest and I'm forced to look at my destroyed pecs. I used to bounce my huge muscles as intimidation, but now they're just two saggy lumps dangling on my torso.

Below that, I see the punk's legs wrapped tightly around my midsection. The lean muscles are tensing and breaking into my sides just below my ribs. They're crushing me and the pain is unbearable. After a couple of minutes that feels like a couple of hours, I can't take any more abuse. I've got no choice but to beg for mercy.

"Please. Seth, please let me go. I give. I give!"

Seth laughs behind me, telling me that I'm even more pathetic than Mark. At least Mark wanted to be wrecked, he tells me. The punk is relentless, telling me that I'm just a fucking loser. All the while, he refuses to release me from the hold. He keeps punishing me until I'm completely limp in his arms.

I'm begging for freedom, begging him not to do this when he releases the full nelson. I collapse to the side, but he continues to squeeze the life out of me with his scissors. The pain is too much for me to bear. He grabs my hair and adds a rear naked choke. When he tightens, I can't even beg any more.

Everything goes black as I pass out.

Police Training

SPLASH! I wake up to the feeling of water hitting my face. I'm dragged up to a kneeling position by my hair. I realize I'm on gym mats. I've been stripped down to my tight white thong (didn't want lines in my super-tight pants). My body is screaming in pain  I struggle to move, but I realize my wrists are bound behind me. Damn, the punk put me in handcuffs. Oh shit, they're probably mine.

Seth is standing in front of me. When I look up at him, I realize that he's wearing my shirt, badge and belt over a stuffed white jock. Son of a bitch. The shirt is big on him, but he doesn't care. He flaunts it in front of me. The clothed punk swings my billy club, circling me. He drags me to my feet and pushes me against the wall.

"Looks like things have changed, cop. I'm the law around here. I even got a nice shiny badge to prove it."

"Fuck you! Take my - OOF!"

Seth nails me with my billy club, ramming the butt into my abs. The punk digs it in. Making sure I feel it. His face is right beside mine, his hot breath on my neck as he tries to impale me on my night stick. Seth steps back then hammers me in the gut with the side of the stick. I drop to my knees, coughing.

My face is pushed into the front of his sweaty jock. I smell his musk and taste his sweaty crotch. My mouth hangs open, letting some of his pouch slide inside. His big ball is sweaty, coating my tongue so all I can do is taste him. My head gets shoved down between his thighs and he locks me in a head scissors. It's tight, but not deadly. Still, I'm in so much fucking pain right now, crouched forward, kneeling, arms locked behind my back.

Seth reaches forward. I know this because I feel the handle of my billy club hit my ass. He runs it up my crack, pressing the tip against my hole. The punk pulls it up, hooking it between my hands in the handcuffs. He lifts my arms up and pain shoots through my shoulders. I cry out, hoping he has some decency inside him. I figure there's no use in playing tough now.

The hairy punk laughs, "You muscle guys are never very flexible. That's why you're so easy to beat. Me? You could pull my shoulders up all day and I'd just laugh it off."

I moan, "Please. Oh god, come on, man. UNH! Please stop!"

Seth lowers my arms, "Good start. Begging is good. And you said 'please', so that's cool."

"UNH! Oh fuck."

Seth starts lifting my arms again, "But you need to show more respect for me. I mean, you were kind of an ass, weren't you?"

"No, no, no. Please! I respect you! I respect you!"

"You ever been a sub before?"

"UNH! No."

"Okay, first lesson. From now on, you call me Master Seth."

I breathlessly spit out, "Okay. Okay. Master Seth. Master Seth. I will, Master Seth."

My arms are lowered. I let out a long breath. Seth opens his legs and lets my head free. I sit up, trying to roll my shoulders. The billy club comes up against my chin. The hairy punk uses it to lift my face. He says, "Kiss my foot."

"Yes, sir, Master Seth."

I fall forward and put my lips on his foot. I kiss it then start to rise, but I feel the billy club pressing down between my shoulder blades. I sink down and start kissing the foot again. I go longer this time, running my tongue all over it. Men have worshipped my muscles before, so I take a page from that. I never thought I'd be on this side of this, but here I am. Helpless.

"Better, boy. Better." Seth waits then clubs my right bicep. CRACK! I cry out. He says, "I just gave you a compliment, boy!"

"Oh, god. Ouch. sorry, sir. Thank you, Master Seth. Thank you."

"That's right. Now I got two feet, don't I?"

"Yes, Master Seth." He doesn't move his foot to me, so I'm forced to crawl to it. As I move, I freeze. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice that the billy club is rising. I think then cautiously ask, "May I please kiss your other foot, Master Seth?"

The club lowers. Seth says, "Very good, boy. Yeah, go for it."

I do an even better, more thorough job with this one. I don't sit up until I'm told, as I start to understand my predicament. It's not just subservience. It's control. I won't do anything without instruction or clarification. After a few more tests, Seth realizes I'm getting it. I can't tell if he's disappointed that he has no reason to beat me or pleased that I'm playing along so quickly. Not that it matters. He has all the power, while I have none.

"You're a natural at this, boy."

"Thank you, Master Seth."

Seth circles around me then undoes the handcuffs. My arms flop down and I've never been more relieved. I barely have any feeling left in them. I want to shake them out, but I don't. Seth uses my hair to drag me to my feet. I stumble, as my knees and legs are cramped up from kneeling so long. When the hairy punk holds me up, it feels almost good.

I stand at attention, waiting for my orders. Seth strips down to his white jock. He tosses the billy club aside then circles behind me then in front. As I wait, I realize my cock is huge and stretching out the white briefs. Fuck, I'm so hard. Seth leaves to take a piss. I just stand there for  minutes, my cock throbbing with anticipation of what he has planned next.

When he comes back, Seth says, "You're still here, boy? You must really want this."

I say, "Yes, Master Seth." Wait. It hits me what he just said. I realize that he's right. I had an opening. I could've made a run for it. I didn't even try. Fuck.

The hairy punk says, "Come on, boy. We're gonna wrestle."

Wrestling with Seth

I'm confused, so I don't move as Seth tackles me down, schoolboy pinning me to the mat. He says, "You better fight hard, boy. I'd say you're fighting for your ass, but I know a submissive whore like you gives that shit up too easy. You want me to fuck you too much to try. So, if I want a challenge, I'll threaten you instead. If you don't try to win, you'll regret it."

The skinny stud gets up and spreads him arms, challenging me to come at him. I rise up, breathe in deeply and try to get my head on straight. This is my chance. My chance to get out of this mess. I'm sore, but I'm still bigger and stronger than this punk. And I know how to wrestle.

I move in for a lockup. Seth ducks my charge then swings around with a kick to my knee. I drop down to my knee. He moves in and tries for a chicken wing. I hold my arm firm then spin and trip him down. I climb on top of him, going for a rear naked choke. He blocks me as he tries to roll me off, but 230-lbs is still 230-lbs.

I use my hand against the back of his neck to keep him down then grab his wrist, bending his arm behind his back. He grunts as I force his arm up his back. His hand is at his shoulder blade, but he's not giving or begging. Seth squirms under me, but my weight is tough to move. I fall forward, wrapping my arm around his throat. I roll us over, bringing my legs around his waist.

Seth struggles, but I've got his neck, one arm immobilized and his body lock in my legs. I feel my pride and confidence coming back as I manhandle him. This punk made me call him Master? What the fuck was I thinking? I extend my legs, crushing his midsection, like he did to me. I hear him grunt for the first time and it energizes me.

I say, "Am I trying hard enough for you? Boy."

The added 'boy' gets Seth fighting hard, hammering his free elbow into my side, but he can't break free. I laugh when he tries to pry my arm off his neck. Too bad, I miss him bridging up. His thin legs are strong. I know this from his scissors, but somehow, I'm still shocked as my ass is lifted off the mat. The hairy punk drives his hips down, slamming his ass on top of my rock hard cock. He does it again and it's enough for him to break lose.

Seth scampers to the side as I reach down and adjust my underwear. He rolls into a crouch like an animal. I roll to my feet, only to be tackled down when he springs at me. THUD! The punk starts pounding my body with fists that tear through my muscles. As much I thought I'd recovered, this beating is reading me of the punishment I took. I get my leg up and kick him off me.

I leap on top of him, but he gets his legs around my waist. Seconds later, he's squeezing and I'm drained of all power. How can his legs be this strong? I fall forward into him and he grabs my wrists. Seth drives my hands into my head, playing 'why don't you stop hitting yourself' with me like I was a child. I hang there helplessly pummeling myself, my torso being crushed.

I mutter, "Please, Master Seth. Please, I can't take any more! I give!"

Seth stops slamming my head with my fists, but he keeps the scissors tight. I collapse onto him, my head nestled beside his. He wraps his arms around my head in a front facing sleeper. From the waist up, it might look romantic, my smooth muscular torso draped over his lean, hairy body as he embraces me. In reality, I'm struggling to breathe as he squeezes my body and puts me out. Again.

I'm Not Done With You

Seth wakes me up with slaps this time. I can barely move. I don't think my ribs are broken, but my body is aching. It's tough to turn. I realize my briefs are gone, so I'm completely naked. The hairy punk grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet.

"Good job, boy. I think you really tried."

I smile with pride, "Thank you, Master Seth."

"But you called me 'boy'."

Without warning, Seth puts his arm around my chest and yanks me back. He kneels, causing me to fall onto his outstretched leg. CRACK! I hang on his leg in the over-the-knee backbreaker, my back aching. He was right earlier, I'm not that flexible. My body isn't built for this at the best of times. I'm ready to give right away.

Seth refuses to accept my submission. He wraps his hand around the base of my cock and balls, pulling them up. He tightens until I cry out from the pain. The hairy punk keeps his hand on my chin, pushing it down. I'm begging and pleading for him to forgive me. I tell him I got caught up, that I thought it was what he wanted. I beg for another chance, promising to never do it again.

I must be convincing, because he pushes me off his leg. I crawl on the mat. Seth says, "Go. Get out of here."

I look back at him, confused by the order. He crosses his arms, waiting. I don't know why, but with my freedom being offered, I don't move to leave. Maybe I don't trust him. I'd like to believe that's the reason. I get to my feet, bow my head, stare at my throbbing hard on for a moment then say, "I'm sorry, Master Seth."

I wait. Seth circles me then says, "Fine. That's two falls for me. We go again, boy."

I reach out to lock up, but he kicks my abs. THUD! Seth grabs my wrist, pulls me forward and whips me around into the paneled wall. WHACK! I'm stunned, giving him the chance to pepper my body with fists before he steps back and delivers a side kick to my gut. OOF! I drop to my knees, only to get a spinning side kick to the right shoulder that topples me to the side.

Seth warns, "I don't think you're trying, boy."

I suck wind as he approaches. When he's close, I kick back with a donkey kick, aimed at his gut. He catches my foot, lifts my leg and twists. The ankle lock is sharp and fast. I worry that he's about to break my ankle, it hurts so bad. I tap fast and hard, submitting again. He releases the hold then kicks my bare ass, prodding me to rise.

I use the wall to get up, carefully testing my ankle. It supports my weight and I'm relieved. Before I can do anything, Seth is in behind me. He squats and powers me up onto his shoulders. I'm amazed as my 230-lbs is suspended in the air. I'm amazed until the pain hits. The backbreaker is the last thing I need. I dangle on his shoulders crying out my submission, yet again.

Seth drops me then stomps my body. He hits every major muscle from my shoulders, arms, chest, stomach, legs and back. I endure minutes of unrelenting stomps, punches and claws. I beg for mercy a dozen times, but he keeps going until he finishes me off. I'm left a sobbing mess on the mat when he steps back.

The hairy punk takes thin straps of leather and carefully binds my cock and balls. He winds the straps around, taking his time as I just moan at the feeling. I try to focus on something else, but I can't. Pre-cum oozes from my dick, running down my shaft. Some of it gets on Seth's hand, so he makes me lick it off. I've never been in so much pain in my life and yet thanks to the binding, my dick is staying hard.

The hairy punk helps me up, but I collapse as soon as he removes his support. I beg him to stop. I tell him I can't take any more. I tell him he's too much man for me. I tell him anything that might feed his ego and get him to stop punishing me. I'd be sickened by my own performance if I wasn't so destroyed.

Seth walks out of the room. When he comes back, he has a dog collar. He locks it on, attaches a leash then tugs on it. I rise up, struggling to crawl along with him. He commands me to heel and I try, I really do, but he deliberately causes me to fail. Each time I stumble or fall behind, I get a hard slap across my ass.

I'm led into another room. It's dark, but I can make out enough. Oh fuck, it's a dungeon.

The Mark Treatment: The Finale

Seth leads me to a leather horse and forces me up on it. He moves around, telling me that he's not even going to bother tying me down, because I'm such a good boy. The hairy punk stands in front of me and strips off his white jock. His cock is long. He orders me to get him hard then shoves his dick inside my mouth. He's quickly pounding the back of my throat as his cock hardens.

I gag multiple times, but he keeps thrusting. I'm slobbering, as I can't even take a moment to swallow before he's slamming my throat. Forward and back, forward and back. It's relentless. I've sucked cock before, but I've never not been in control of the situation before. It's not pleasant, but Seth either doesn't care or doesn't notice. Finally, he pulls out and I can breathe and swallow. He swats my face with his long, hard cock, lining my cheeks with my own saliva.

Seth straps a ball gag on me then circles behind. I close my eyes as I feel his fingers at my hole. He shoves them in, opening my hole before drizzling lube down my crack. When he inserts his fingers, they slide in deep. I breathe in as he works me, silently appreciating that he's getting me ready. He removes his fingers then I feel him grab my hips. I know what's coming, but it still hurts.

Seth rides my ass hard, driving his long cock inside me. I groan through the gag, biting it to keep from crying out. My own thick cock, bound by leather to stay painfully hard, gets slammed against the end of the horse, painfully abused as it cries out for release. The hairy punk demands I give him my hands. I reach back and he takes my wrists. He pulls back, straining my aching shoulders.

I whimper in pain as he uses my arms for leverage. His wiry pubes brush against my ass as he goes all the way inside me. I've never taken a cock this long before. I don't think I can stand any more, so I beg through the gag, hoping he'll take mercy on me. He does. Seth releases my arms and slows down his rhythm. He pulls out and comes around in front.

Seth unfastened the ball gag then topples me off the horse to the mat below. He sits me up then puts my handcuffs back on me. I plead for him not to, promising to be good, but he just laughs at my submissiveness. I came in talking so tough, but the hairy punk claims this is who I really am. He rolls me onto my back, my hips elevated thanks to my cuffed hands under me. He smiles, surveying my broken body.

"Shit, cops are the fucking best. I really gotta thank Mark for sending you."

I quietly lie on my back, my arms trapped painfully under me. When Seth sits on my stomach, the handcuffs tear into the flesh on my wrists and back. He starts firing away at my pecs again. They're bruised and limp. I can't even come close to flexing them any more, his hands plunging down into my ribs.

The punk reaches up and forces my pecs together. He pushes them in, kneading the thick muscle. Seth leans forward and lays his cock in the middle of my wrecked chest. He starts pumping, fucking my bitch tits, as he calls them. My muscles envelop his thick cock, his hands forcing my ruined pecs to close in on the shaft.

Seth groans as he pumps. I cry out on pain until I hear him demand I look at him. When I do, he erupts, his seed firing up all over my face and neck. One rope reaches my eye, coating my eyelashes. Another hits my nostril, filling my nose with the smell of his cum. I can't avoid tasting the salty goo as it drips into my open mouth.

I clean off his head before he pulls my face between his legs. He rolls us onto our sides then squeezes. Seconds later, everything goes black, as I feel the power of his legs yet again.

Out of the Frying Pan

"Wakey, wakey, cop."

Yuck! I open my eyes at the pungent smell. Seth is kneeling beside me, tossing away whatever he used for smelling salts.

Seth says, "You gotta go, now. I'm done with your sorry ass."

"W-wha ...? Master Seth?" I'm so sore, I can barely move. And I'm handcuffed.

"You were a naughty boy." Seth turns away from me, "Get him outta here, jobber."

The punk moves and I see Mark standing over me. He looks pissed. My buddy grabs my hair and drags me up. He slings my naked carcass over his shoulder and carries me through the house, the garage, up the driveway and dumps me in the backseat of my police car. I struggle to rise as he gets in the driver's side.

We peel out of Seth's driveway and head to my house. Mark lays into me. Seth called him to thank him for sending me over, which he didn't. He quickly figured out that I hacked his account and obviously knows what happened next. After he finishes, he won't even talk to me, other than to tell me to shut up with my apologies.

When we get to my place, he parks on the street in front of my house and turns off the car. I see a car behind us and realize it's Seth. He's taking Mark back to his place where his car is.

As my buddy gets out, I ask, "Wait! What about these cuffs? And my clothes? My wallet? My badge? You can't just leave me like this."

Mark just laughs at me, telling me I'm lucky I didn't have to walk all the way home. My wallet and badge are in the glove compartment, but the uniform is Seth's. Mark dares me to try and get it back. He slides out of the car and pitches my keys all the way up my driveway. My "friend" shoots me the finger through the window and walks off.

I'm left sitting there, buck naked. Oh shit. I realize that I can't even get out. There are no handles back here. I ram the cage that separates the back seat from the front with my shoulder. All I do is hurt my shoulder even more. Okay, calm down. There's got to be a solution here. I sit back, close my eyes and try to focus.

Love Thy Neighbor

I hear a tap on the window. "Hey Sean. You okay?"

Oh fuck, it's Rick. He's got a big smile on his face. He was probably watching out his window all night for me to come back. My neighbor is looking me over, getting a good look at my naked body, including my cock and balls. With my hands cuffed behind me, I can't do anything. I wonder how long he was looking in on me. Not that it matters.

I tell him to get my keys and let me out. He lumbers up the driveway and fetches them. I tell him I need clothes, but instead of letting me out or getting me something to wear, the slob just smiles and tells me to hold on. I'm forced to sit there, naked and helpless while he does all this. It's my only choice. He disappears into his house then I see his garage door rise as he pulls his car out of his one-car attached garage.

I can't do anything but watch as he parks on the street and slowly gets out and saunters back over. Rick again tells me to hold on as I protest, demanding he get me some clothes and let me out of my car. He gets in the driver's seat, turns and puts his finger against his lips, shushing me. I shut up and sit back, letting this play out. He reverses all the way back into his driveway, parking my cop car inside the garage and away from prying eyes.

When we're in his garage and the big door is closed, Rick finally helps me out of the back. I tell him I'm fine, but I'm obviously stiff and sore. And he obviously wants to touch me. He rubs his hands all over me under the guise of helping. I moan and wince when he hits sore spots. He apologizes, but I think he likes knowing I'm weak. Rick's hands manage to slip onto my ass then brush against my cock and even cup my balls. He leads me into his house. Okay, at least only he saw me. When he unlocks the cuffs, I don't bother covering up, he's seen it all at this point.

"Rick, I need some clothes so I can head home."

"Should I call the cops?"

"I am a cop."

"I mean more cops. It looks like someone really beat you up. Weren't you on duty? That's against the law, isn't it? I saw your friend Mark drop you off. And that other guy pick him up. I saw it all. I even got his license plate number. I'll testify for you."

"No cops. Clothes. Now."

"Did Mark beat you up? You two have a falling out? Don't protect him. Oh my, you're not in an abusive relationship with him, are you? I know a counselor -"

"Clothes." I say it forcefully, but Rick continues to ignore me. Somehow, my cop voice doesn't mean much when I'm naked and he's fully clothed. My bruised muscles also suggest a vulnerability he's never seen before.

Rick says, "I'm so glad I could be here for you. Is this your first time in my house? I've invited you, but I think you were always too busy before."

I try a different tone, asking politely, "Rick, I appreciate all your help. You've got a great house. Now, may I please have something to wear. Please?"

A strange look flashes over Rick's face, just for a moment, then he grins. I quickly realize I may have made a mistake. He senses the changing dynamic, understanding the power he now has over me. Rick takes full advantage as he touches my shoulder, sliding his hand onto my bicep.

I try to shift things back, "Rick, focus. Never mind, I'll go find something to wear on my -- ARGH!" In response, Rick squeezes my arm hard, stopping me and I cry out. My knees actually buckle from the pain. Rick moves in to catch me, pushing me against the wall for support.

"I'm sorry, Sean. I didn't mean to hurt you. I mean, I didn't think I could."

"It's okay. Rick, I just hurt my arm earlier. Look, just listen to me - AH!" Another hard squeeze, this time on my pec, shuts me up. No apology comes this time.

"You know, you're just lucky it was me who saw you first. You know how the other neighbors love to talk. Imagine the gossip. Sean, our big, strong neighborhood police officer being left locked up in the back of his own police car. And in a naked condition. Heck, we're such good friends and it'll still take all my strength not to tell everyone."

Rick looks at me with a grin as he adjusts his obvious hard-on in his jeans. Fuck. He just threatened me. The big man moves close and runs both his hands down then up my limp, dangling arms.

Rick says, "This is a big secret I'm keeping for you, isn't it, Officer Sean?" I don't say anything, so Rick asks again, more forcefully, "ISN'T IT?"

I meekly admit, "Yes."

"I mean, I bet you could get fired over this. In a way, I'm saving your job, aren't I?"

"Rick, please -"

"And a big favor like this deserves some kind of thank you, doesn't it, Officer Sean? I wonder how you're going to thank me for all I'm doing for you?"

I look into his eyes and something changes. I bow my head then look back. I silently submit to Rick, acknowledging his superior position. When he was a spineless sycophant, Rick never interested me. But now, as a dominant bear, I find myself attracted to his bearded face and hairy bulk. I don't know why it's happening. Maybe Seth really did break me. Maybe he broke me deeper than physically. Or maybe all this just helped me realize something about myself. I don't know.

I end the long silence, saying, "You're right, Rick. I do owe you. Big time. How can I ever repay you? I'll do anything."

Rick just nods, accepting my submission. He looks so confident and sexy that I can't look away from his stare. When he pushes down on my shoulders, I don't even try to resist. I drop to my knees, head bowed before him. He says, "Why Sean, I couldn't let you do that."

I look up, "Please, Rick?" He just looks at me. I ask again, "Please, sir?"

Rick grabs my hair tightly, "Well, if you insist. Boy."

Rick jerks my head back by my hair as he unzips his fly. He pulls out his cock and forces me to stare at it. He pulls my face forward and I start to "thank" him, a humiliating and degrading task that has my cock hard. I don't leave until the next morning, thoroughly fucked, confused and aching. I call in sick, sleeping the day away.

Later that night, I find myself on Rick's stoop, ringing his bell with my cock quickly expanding in my jeans. Oh, what the fuck am I doing?

The End