Stiff Sentence Part 1
Scott Simpson was a small time dealer, and not very good at all. He’d just sold a dime bag to an undercover cop. He had a horrible awful sinking feeling as the hand cuffs were placed on him.
As the Miranda warning was being recited, Scott’s mind was elsewhere. He had been to jail once and did not want to go back. He had come very close to being raped, extremely close. Two men had just gotten his pants down when a guard came to release him. He shuddered as he thought of those leering men pawing at his .
Scott became aware that the undercover narcotic officer was asking him a question, ‘Huh?”
Officer Klein repeated, “Do you understand these rights?”
Scott let out a sigh and nodded yes. Klein led him to a car where another officer sat waiting.
Officer Travis got out of the unmarked cruiser. “What do we have here?” he asked his partner.
Klein chuckled, “He just sold me a dime bag.” Klein leaned Scott against the cruiser as he began patting him down.
Travis grinned, “He’s a pretty , the cons are gonna love him in lock up.”
Klein slipped his hands in Scott’s back pockets, “Yeah, he’s got the butt to make a good jailhouse bride, bet he’ll have several honeymoons tonight.”
Both the officers chuckled, Scott’s voice broke, “Don’t take me to jail! Please? I really almost got raped last time. Please? Can’t you just let me go?”
Travis ears perked up as he heard the mention of a previous incarceration. “Oh did you? So you’ve been to our steel hotel before.”
Scott gave it another try, “Don’t take me to jail, please sir?” His voice was polite and pleading. “My parents won’t get me out this time, and I really came close to getting raped when I was there before.”
Klein said, “That’s what happens in jail. It’s the tough guys against the pretty boys. Who knows, you might enjoy it.”
“Oh God no!” Scott blurted. “I’m not like that. I’ll do anything, don’t take me to jail!”
The two officers gave each other a private look. Travis knew the kid wouldn’t last a minute in jail, not the way he was begging and pleading. The pretty boy was too weak to survive among real criminals.
“That depends, what to you mean by you’ll do anything,” Travis mused. “What do you have that’s worth us not taking you in?”
Scott thought fast, “I can tell you who I buy from. I can give up my source.”
Klein chuckled, “You watch to much TV, we already know who deals to small timers like you.”
Dreading anything to do with jail and sensing that the cops were toying with him, Scott begged, “I know some dudes that are dealing X.”
“So do we kid, so do we.” Travis replied. ‘But maybe there’s something you got to offer.”
Sighing with relief, “Anything sir! You name it, anything.” Scott looked hopeful.
“Ever so often, me and my partner like a nice fresh piece of ass. One that hasn’t been broken in yet. You catch my drift here?” Travis asked.
Scott did catch the implication, his face took on a look of shock. “I’m not that way sir!”
Klein responded, “If we haul your ass in, you’re gonna be that way. The jail’s overcrowded, most of the tanks have 20 or 25 men. Men that are just waiting for a weak pretty boy to spend some time with.”
Choking on his own fear, Scott said, “I like girls!”
“To all those men you’re gonna share a tank with, you’re gonna be the girl they like.” Travis said.
“Yeah, and it could really get rough if those cons find out that you were willing to snitch to us.” Klein threatened. “They just hate snitches.”
Shuddering, Scott felt hopeless. He knew what the cops said was true. He thought of his last visit to jail, a few more minutes and he would have been fucked. Those two men had gotten his pants down and they had squeezed his butt cakes. The only thing that had saved him was his parents had posted bond and the guard came and let him out. He remembered the laughing men as he stumbled out of the jail tank pants less. One of them had even yelled, “Next time, bitch, next time!”
It didn’t matter that he was straight, if he went to jail those animals in there would just take turns with him. The judge had let him off last time but had promised he’d get a stiff sentence if he reappeared in the court room.
Strangely enough, Scott’s biggest fear wasn’t doing time, it wasn’t being used by an unknown number of men, his fear was something else. Everyone in town seemed to know everyone’s business. His biggest worry wasn’t what would happen, it was of others finding out.
The two cops wouldn’t want people to know. They looked straight, they acted straight. They wouldn’t talk. Plus, doing things with them meant not going to jail and being with no telling how many dudes. It was an easy enough decision once he weighed the odds.
His lip trembled a little as he asked, “What do I have to do?” He was too embarrassed to look up at the cops.
“Anything we want, anything we want.” Travis replied. They’d be off duty in less than an hour. He hadn’t been with a in a couple of weeks. This wasn’t the first time him and his partner had scored straight ass. It was more like the 30th time. Some were pretty boys such as Scott, some were macho baby making studs. A couple of them had even liked it and came back for more.
Travis had a gut feeling that Scott wouldn’t be one of those that liked it. The 20 year old kid was great looking and appeared to have a nice body underneath his clothes, but he was weak. He wouldn’t like the roughness of being with other men. Somehow that impression made Travis even hornier.
Klein opened the trunk of the cruiser. “Jump in boy.” he commanded.
Scott’s eyes got big and frightened, “I’ll smother! There’s no air! You can’t make me ride in the trunk!”
Klein chuckled, “In the trunk, if we let you ride in the backseat it’ll be a one way trip to lock up.
With great reservations, Scott climbed in the trunk. Klein slammed it shut, leaving the frightened pretty boy in darkness.
The two partners got in the cruiser. Travis turned the police radio down low, “Whose turn is it?”
Klein chuckled, “As if you didn’t know. You got the last one, what was his name, the Mexican stud?”
“Oh, yeah the hot tamale, now I remember. I liked the way he moaned.” Travis laughed.
The cops had a routine, they alternated as to who had the most control of the scene. In the past, they had experimented some. They had played around with bondage, , spankings, and light torture. Both of them had decided just pure domination was the most satisfying thing to do with these . Taking away their control and power, using them for sexual relief, that is what the two cops liked the .
Klein started the cruiser and drove around, he selected some of the bumpiest streets and alleys as they finished their shift. Scott forgot his fear of not having air as he was bumped and jolted all around the trunk.
With the shift ended, they headed to have their fun. Scott stumbled out of the car’s trunk. His 5 8 inched frame looked small in comparison to the large beefy cops. He was ordered into a small room. Scott shuddered as he saw a large can of Crisco setting next to the bed.
“Strip boy!” Klein ordered. “We wanna see the merchandise. Show us your stuff!”
Scott blushed and bent down to untie his shoes. Travis flopped down, watching. It always started this way. They always stripped slowly, an attempt to avoid the inevitable. Their hands would fumble nervously. It would take two or three times as long as it should for them to strip.
He watched the pretty straight boy, the chest was nice and trim, just a slight dusting of hair. Tight flat stomach, and a thin treasure trail. He watched Scott hesitate, like all the others before him, it was always hardest for them to remove their pants.
Klein said, “Call it buddy!” as Scott’s fumbled with his belt. This was a mind game the two cops played. Chances were that Klein already knew the answer as he had patted Scott down.
Travis answered, “Tighty whities.” Everything about the pretty boy’s dress had indicated he would wear fashionable boxers. It was just some inner feeling that made him think briefs would be exposed.
As Scott dropped his pants, Travis grinned. Once again he had been right.
Now down to just his briefs, Scott’s sex appeal was very strong. He was frightened and embarrassed yet he still had that certain cockiness, that certain stance. Neither cop had a feeling of ‘Gaydar’ with Scott. He was just another weak dude doing what he had to do.
He bent and slipped off his briefs. As he stood back up, he did another thing the two cops were accustomed to. Scott’s hands shielded his privates. The officer’s had seen this act time and time again with . The big beefy cops weren’t really that much interested in Scott’s dick. Of course they wanted to see it, but it had no real use other then a way to further humiliate the pretty boy.
Travis remained quiet, an observer, Klein spoke, “Move your hands boy, show us that wiener!”
With even more embarrassment, Scott moved his hands away and exposed himself. Even though he was embarrassed, he felt he didn’t have anything to be shamed of. A lot of men, even straight handsome ones, do compare themselves to other males. He knew enough to understand he had more then good looks and a nice body. He knew his dick was above average.
It was hard for him to imagine these big masculine cops as gay, but he knew they were. Cops they might be, but they were faggots. All they might want is to suck his cock. Scott knew fags always wanted a ’s dick. He thought of the can of Crisco, he shuddered as he wondered if he would have to fuck them.
His sudden beliefs were reinforced as Klein said, “Get it hard, show us what you got. Get that prick hard!”
Pretty straight Scott stroked his pretty pink fuck rod. Though he was circumcised, he had been left with a small part of his foreskin. His cock was club shaped, the pretty fuck tool got fatter towards the base. His practiced hand stroked and manipulated his cock. The pink firmed and grew, rapidly hardening and reaching its large 7 inched state.
Klein moved to Scott, the cop reached out and gripped the straight fuck stick. “It’s a big dick you got here boy. A big pretty cock, yeah, nice dick. I bet you like it sucked? You like your dick sucked boy?”
Scott forgot his embarrassment of being naked in front of the two cops. He figured a blow job was a blow job. It would be a lot better letting this cop give him head then having men in jail pawing at his ass. ‘Love head, love having my dick sucked,” he tried to sound like he meant it. He spread his legs a bit wider, and stuck his chest out. “I love having my big dick sucked, love it.” Remembering the other cop, “I can always cum twice when I get head,” Scott added to let the cops know they could both suck him. His mind was racing, he had it made! Of course both the cops would want to suck him off, but then he was free!
Officer Klein gently stroked the hard shaft, “Big hard straight dick! So you like this big piece sucked?”
Scott was relieved, he was blessed! “Yeah, I love head! I love my dick sucked. Yeah, that is cool.”
Travis didn’t even grin. This was just part of the scene. It was part of their routine. He was looking forward to the next step.
“How big is that thing? How big is that dick of yours?” Klein looked at the straight tool as if he was hypnotized. He licked his lips, staring at the pretty boy’s fuck stick.
Scott looked down at his erection. His embarrassment was completely gone. He had that masculine feeling that he got when girls saw his manhood for the first time. “I don’t measure it, its big, I don’t need to know inches man. It loves to have a mouth sucking it.” Scott was totally taken in.
“Wow!” Klein replied. “I measure mine. I keep hoping it will get bigger. But my dick ain’t your size at all.”
“Yeah, I got a nice piece.” Scott had a smirk on his face. Both of the cops were staring at his dick now. He figured if he could manage to shoot some ball wads in their queer mouth’s he was out of here.
Klein said, “Yeah, you got what I call a pretty straight cock. But me and you got something in common.” Again Klein licked his lips, his tongue darted over them as he stared at Scott’s boner. He looked at it like he was hungry.
Two hunks go at it the back of a pick-up truck...
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