Trapped Muscle Cop

Disclaimer: If you are under 18 years of age or if it is illegal to read material of this kind where you live, then please stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between men. It is entirely a work of fictional entertainment.

Trapped Muscle-Cop, Part 17 By Reflex (reflex012004@yahoo.com) Copyright 2006

Part 17: He Who Laughs Last...

"Ha ha ha ha... well, if it isn't you pair of jerk-offs," Pete said with a warm bellow as he reached out to shake hands with Rick and Tom. Tony stood by utterly bewildered as if big-headed purple creatures from outer space had just walked into his kitchen asking if he had any Bud Light.

Rick Carter and Tom Jenkins were sobering up very quickly. Each cracked a smile of relief at their boss's normal jocular manner, but neither young guy was certain of the situation. What was Mr. Dubrowski doing here? Had he come by to see them and found Tony in some compromising situation that was now going to require delicate explaining? There was a palpable air of tension in the room.

"Looks like you guys have been out havin' a real good time," Pete said. His large suntanned hands rested on his hips. His big grin had never left his face.

Tom's gaze fixed upon his boss's hands, taking in the short soft brown hairs that covvered the tops and spread up Pete's thick muscle-packed arms well past the elbows. Tom and Rick were still in the tattered and faded jeans, tight old tee-shirts, and dusty boots they wore to work. Both guys looked a little sweaty under the arms and the pupils of their eyes were slightly dilated.

"Yes, um, sir," Rick said anxiously, still trying to get a grip on whatever was going on. "We, um, we were out with a few other guys from the crew... you know... Carl, Reggie, Bill...."

"Big Bill or little Bill?" Pete asked.

"Little Bill, sir." Tom said. He was starting to feel slightly relieved, like maybe this was just a social call, after all. He had wanted to get to know his arrestingly handsome boss better and maybe this was going to be his opportunity. Rick wasn't so sure.

"Oh yeah," Pete nodded in a knowing way. He looked at Tony. "You gotta meet Little Bill. He's somethin' else... drives Big Bill up the wall, but man is he funny... bit of a loudmouth for such a small guy, but shit he cracks me up."

Tom chuckled. "He was in top form tonight, sir. We were down at the... hey, Mr. Dubrowski, do you wanna beer or somethin'? I'm about ready for another."

"Naw, you go ahead Jenkins... I'm full up," Pete replied.

Tom walked over to the fridge and popped open a can. "Hey," Rick said, staring at the beer in Tom's big hand.

"Oh..." Tom grabbed another can and handed it to Rick. No one asked Tony if he wanted one. Not that Tony noticed; he was too flabbergasted by the apparent turn of events.

Tom took a hearty swig and licked his lips. He picked up the thread of the conversation. "We got into a game of darts. Just messin' around an' shit, and Carl, ha ha, he was losin' an' ya know what he's like..."

Rick joined in laughing, "The minute some game or, I don't know, some kind of competition isn't going his way, there's always a fuckin' excuse."

Pete laughed. "Ain't that the God's truth... whiney fat bastard, ha ha!"

"Yeah, first, the feather on his dart was damaged," Tom said, "an' he said, he said, he said that was causin' it to not function properly. And then, what was it, Rick?"

"His arm... yeah, that crap about his arm," Rick said.

"Oh yeah, his arm was hurtin', pulled a muscle or somethin, an'then it was too dark in the bar an' he couldn't see the dartboard properly, an' I don't know, endless stupid shit like that," Tom continued. "Anyway, Little Bill decided he'd had enough and started to rag on Carl. Carl started missin' the target totally, shit it's amazin' someone didn't get a fuckin'dart in their ass, ha ha... anyway, he got more an' more steamed about Bill makin' fun 'a him, and that only made the rest of us laugh harder, an' then..." Tom was rambling a bit in his jolly boyish inebriation.

"Yeah, I get the picture, big guy," Pete said. "Sounds like it was pretty fuckin' funny, but hey, it's not even ten-thirty on a Friday, guys. No reason the fun has to end just yet."

"Yeeee Haaaa," Rick bellowed, raising his arm up and spilling a bit of beer on the floor.

The dazed expression on Tony's face had hardly cleared when now he began to suspect that he was in a heap of trouble. He wondered if his whole friendship with Pete had been a set-up and if it was, then what kind of fun did these guys have in mind for tonight. Silently, he chastized himself for being so slow-witted. "Why didn't I think?" he asked himself as he stood there. "Pete was always goin' on about his work on that office building and Tom and Rick were always yammering about this high-rise they were working on downtown... dammit. And I told him everything... shit!"

Tony was looking at the kitchen door, wondering if he could get past Pete, out the door, into his car, and out of the driveway before the guys got their hands on him. Then he remembered that Pete's car was parked behind his. He was boxed in. No escape!

"Listen up guys," Pete said.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Dubrowski, sir!" Rick and Tom said in mock salute.

"Yeah, yeah... now listen. THIS AIN'T YOUR FUCKIN' HOUSE AND YOU TWO GOOD-FOR-NOTHING ASSHOLES ARE MESSIN' WITH MY BUDDY HERE!"

The kitchen was silent. Everyone stared at the six-foot-one, two-hundred and twenty pound Peter Dubrowski. Pete's eyes flashed at Rick and Tom. Standing there in his khaki shorts, workboots and tight red polo shirt, his muscular arms and legs barely contained by the clothing, Pete exuded a potent hyper-masculine presence. Tom couldn't help but think about what a Grade-A piece of all-American beef he had for a boss. His brief reverie was cut short, however, when Pete's deep voice rumbled again across the kitchen.

"Yes, you little shit-for-brains, I know exactly what kind of twisted fuckin' shit you've been bringin' down on Martino, starting with that fuckin' website. To begin with, unless you have a signed contract, which I know you don't, that website and what you force Martino to do on it, is illegal, highly illegal. I'd have thought you were smart enough to know that Rick! You surprise me. Tom's too stupid, but you?"

"Hey!" Tom protested.

Pete turned his scowling face in Tom's direction. "Shut up, blondie, or I'll ram my dick so far down your throat you'll think you have tonsillitis!"

Tom was feeling the effects of his latest beer, but nonetheless thought he stood a 50-50 chance of taking Pete physically, even though Pete was a little taller and heavier. It would be a close match. He had a clear enough head to realize, however, that trying to throw a punch at his boss might not be a good career move. Tom grumbled to himself, "Fuckin' son-of-a-bitch, always bossin' us about. Like to see you fuckin' try to shove your stupid dick down my throat... anyway I had my tonsils out when I was a kid!"

"What was that?" Pete snapped.

"Nothing..." Tom muttered.

"Good. Now listen. You have appropriated this house, its contents, and the freedom of Officer Martino illegally. The charges that could be drawn against you are heavy. I know exactly what you two have been doing and I am here to tell you two dim-witted punk perverts that it ends tonight! Do you hear me? Tonight. I want that website shut down, and first thing tomorrow morning you two are packin' your bags and movin' out. Is that clear?" Pete said, his voice carrying a low growl.

"Fuck..." Tom grunted.

Rick had a serious look on his face. He and Tom were not at all pleased at having their Friday night spoiled this way. On the spur of the moment Rick could not figure out how Tony had come to know Pete or why he decided to risk telling him the details of his current predicament, but that was a mystery that could be solved later. Rick slowly slid himself off the kitchen counter. He looked at Pete and then over towards Tom, scanning the room. In a sudden flash, he took off running past the refridgerator and a startled Tom. At the doorframe leading out of the kitchen, Rick turned around and threw his beer at Pete before sprinting down the hallway. Pete ducked and side-stepped. The half-full can of beer hit Tony splattering his tee-shirt with golden foamy liquid.

"Shit!" Tony yelped.

For a split second Pete contemplated Tony's chest getting sprayed with a slightly different golden foamy liquid. He pulled his eyes away and ran after Rick. Tony asked Tom to throw him a towel and then noticed that Tom had followed Pete in hot pursuit. Tony peeled off his tee-shirt and quickly took off after him.

Rick dashed into the study where he kept the computer and assorted equipment. He slammed the wooden door and locked it. Pete grabbed the doorknob, twisted, pushed, and pulled, shaking the door, but not getting it open. He saw Tom barreling down after him. He quickly stepped back and kicked the door in, effectively breaking the door latch. Rick gasped and looked in desperation for something big and heavy with which to defend himself. He was too late. Pete pounced on him, knocking him to the floor on his back with a deep sounding "umph!" A struggle ensued as Rick tried to push Pete off his chest. Tom lept on top of Pete, straddling his waist and trying to pull his arms off of Rick as Pete struggled to turn Rick over face-down on the floor. Rick's sinewy musculature was made for running, stretching, twisting. His body was sleekly contoured and agile, but at 175 pounds, strong though he was, he was significantly outweighed by Pete. Pete drove his 45 pounds of muscular advantage down onto the squirming and kicking body beneath him. Rick's wrists were pinned to either side of his head, pressed down into the carpet. He pulled and twisted, but could not break free of Pete's grip. Pete had managed to scoot his knees forward so that he was almost sitting on Rick's chest when suddenly Tom lept onto his back. If Rick was a relative light-weight, muscle-bound Tom was a serious challenge. He wrapped his thickly muscled left arm around Pete's neck, trying to pull him off Rick and into a choke-hold. The adrenaline rush was fast dissipating the effects of the beer. Before Tom had a chance to swing his free right hand into action, however, Tony had clamped onto it from behind, pulling it behind Tom's back, attempting to force him off of Pete. As Tony held Tom's arm in a painful pinch, he plowed his knee into the buff blond construction-worker's back.

"OUCH, GEEZE, TONY!" Tom yelled. However, this maneuver didn't work quite as Tony had hoped. Tom arched his back, but he pulled Pete upright with him, hindering Pete's ability to see Rick. Pete's surprise at being jerked backwards, momentarily broke his concentration. Rick was able to snap his right arm free. Quickly, he grabbed hold of Pete's huge heavy ballsack through the khaki shorts. "UNNGGGHH!" Pete grunted.

Rick squeezed hard and then loosened his grip, starting a firm pumping action on the vulnerable cum-filled nuts. Pete had to keep his right hand pushing down on Rick's left wrist or risk being attacked by both hands. With his left hand he stopped trying to pry himself free of Tom's forceful grip around his neck and swatted at Rick's hand working away on his crotch.

"Oh fuck..." Pete groaned.

Tony, for his part was trying to keep his knee in Tom's back, while keeping Tom's right arm in a pinch and tugging awkwardly at Tom's left arm around Pete's neck. "Ohhhhhh, nnooooooo," Pete groaned again. His big balls had been churing cum all evening in anticipation and now Rick's careful and strong manipulation of the sensitive orbs was short-circuiting his concentration. His hold on Rick's left wrist weakened. Rick was able to wrest his left arm free and now brought it up to squeeze Pete's fat dick. Having his whole crotch worked over was too much. Pete's arms fell to his sides.

"Yeah, big boss man... how you likin' that, huh?" Rick taunted. "Look at you in that nice tight polo shirt... your big arms all useless... a nice wet stain forming on your shorts. Not so strong now, are you! Maybe we ought to put you up on that website with ol' Tony here... then we can talk about a pay raise... ha ha!"

"N... nnnggghh... no... no... don't... ooohhhhhhhhhhh," Pete moaned. "Tony... Tony... get... some... rope!"

Tony glanced around the room, but saw nothing with which to tie up anyone. "Hang on Pete!" he shouted back. Tony let go of Tom's arms and ran out of the room.

"Oh fuck, where's he goin!" Tom shouted. "Fuck, he's gettin' away!" Tom let go of Pete, jumped up and ran after Tony, who he heard trundling down the wooden stairs leading to the basement.

"TOM! NO!" Rick shouted. He was too late. Pete, now free of Tom's grip, had no physical constraint. He gathered up his strength, gripped hold of Rick's wrists and resumed control of the situation. He paused for a minute or two to get his breath back and get his crotch under control. Rick looked up in a panic. Pete grinned his most devilish grin. He reared up and flipped Rick face-down, with his hands behind his back.

"Dammit..." Rick groaned.

"Who's in trouble now, fucker?" Pete uttered with a winded voice. He turned his head towards the door and shouted, "TONY, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YA?" When he got no answer he looked about the room. He was keeping Rick nailed to the floor by sitting on the young guy's slender but hard-muscled upturned butt. On the floor under the desk, Pete spotted a long extension cord. He reached over with a grunt, grabbed the flexible rubber cord and began tying Rick's wrists. The knot wasn't going to hold for long, but it gave Pete enough time to get up, hop across the room and yank the telephone cord from the wall socket. He popped the telephone itself off the other end and quickly set to rebinding Rick's wrists. Pete grinned as he set to his task. He enjoyed watching the lithe guy squirm under him.

Downstairs, Tom had seen Tony heading for the cardboard box filled with rope and assorted leather and cotton straps. He jumped on Tony's back causing the dark-haired cop to fall to his knees before he could reach the box.

"Dammit, Tom, why're you interfering. You don't wanna do this shit! Unngghh... grbpt... ssstoopp!" Tony spat as Tom tried to wrestle him into submission.

Tom had got Tony into a full head-lock with his hands folded behind Tony's neck. He rolled onto his back, with Tony trapped face-up on top of him, and wrapped his legs across Tony's thighs. The two studs lay on the carpet struggling - Tony trying to get free and Tom trying to hold on. It was a stalemate. Tony stopped flapping his big arms for a second to catch a breath of air. He looked down his body towards his big hairy thighs, currently locked between Tom's equally thick jeans-clad legs. He let his head fall back on Tom's shoulder. Tom stuck his tongue out and licked Tony behind his right ear. He then lightly blew into the ear and whispered, "Gotcha"!

"Shit," Tony wheezed. He tried to snap his head out of the way. On the rebound his head smacked into Tom's causing Tom to bite his tongue.

"OUCH! Fuck, Tony, what'd ya to that for, huh?" Tom complained. He instinctively unclasped his hands from the back of Tony's neck to feel with his fingers if he'd cut himself. Tony seized the moment and jerked to the left out of Tom's weakened grasp. He landed on his belly and immediately threw his left arm across a startled Tom's neck. He snapped Tom's head towards him causing Tom to now accidentally bite his lip.

"Dammit, Tony!" Tom said, his voice high, like he was going to cry. "That hurt, man..."

Tony scrambled on top of Tom, straddling his waist. "Sorry... shit, I didn't do it on purpose... I mean, make ya bite your lip...."

Tony grabbed Tom's wrists and pulled the big muscular limbs with their thick coating of blond hair down to Tom's sides, where Tony locked them between his muscle-packed thighs.

"Here, dipshit, le' me look," Tony said quietly. He ran his index finger across Tom's lips looking for traces of blood. "You're okay, dude... no cuts or anything."

Tom stuck out his tongue and lisped "An my thung?"

"Yeah, your 'thung' is okay too," Tony replied smiling.

The sweating cop looked up and down Tom's chest admiring the heaving rounded pecs, tightly wrapped in a sky-blue tee-shirt. He looked at Tom's corded neck and the cute boyish face. Tony brought his hands onto Tom's big pecs and softly rubbed, using his thumbs to lightly flick the rapidly stiffening tits. Tom sighed a little bit and watched Tony's strong manly hands do their work. After a couple of minutes, he raised his forearms between Tony's thighs and began patting and brushing all that darkly-haired muscle bursting out of Tony's small tight gym shorts. The light ticklish sensations on the back and sides of his thighs were getting to Tony. He clenched the solid cheeks of his tight bubble-butt. Within a minute, both young guys were fully boned and panting. Tony leaned forward, his hands on either side of Tom's head, his handsome Italian face barely an inch from Tom's. Their lips hung open as they suffused each other's nostrils with their warm heavy breath. Tom licked his lips and stared into Tony's eyes. Tony brought his mouth down to Tom's nipples and started licking and nibbling them through the tee-shirt.

"Man that feels good Tone... yeah, lick my nips... get your spit all over my tee... oh yeah," Tom panted. He kept his own hands busily rubbing Tony's thighs, eliciting little whimpers from the cop. Slowly, out of the corner of his right eye Tom saw Tony's left hand move. Tony sat back up. In his hands he had a long stretch of soft cotton rope. He pulled it taut and sawed the rope from side to side across Tom's rigid man-tits. Tom's breathing got heavier as the sensation on his vulnerable chest sent electrical pulses to his already hard cock. He grabbed Tony's butt through the thin white cotton shorts, feeling the straps of the jock underneath. He dug his fingers into the muscle of Tony's clenching cheeks. Tony stopped what he was doing and sighed as he flexed his glutes in Tom's talented hands. Gradually regaining his senses, Tony lifted the rope up over Tom's head and then slid it underneath the mesmerized construction stud's back. He pulled the two ends across Tom's biceps, then over his chest, just under his pecs, where he entwined the two ends, pulled tight and made a knot. He then scooted back, forcing Tom's muscular forearms back down to his sides. He felt Tom's muscular hairy forearms brushing against his own hairy muscular calves. He lowered his ass until his heavy balls, confined in the damp jockstrap and gym shorts, rested on Tom's painfully hard rod.

"Feels good huh stud?" Tom whispered.

"Fuck, how do ya do this to me?"

Tony looked at Tom. He grabbed the small rope knot he had made at the center of Tom's chest and pulled upwards. When Tom was sitting up, Tony resumed binding the beefy blond, looping the two ends of the rope around the back and across the front, back and forth, back and forth... slowly.

Tom's tongue was hanging out. He took a deep breath and flexed his solid tanned biceps, not enough to put any real strain on the ropes, just enough to heighten the sensation of the snug and increasingly inescapable binding of his manly upper arms. Meanwhile, Tony's balls were getting a gentle pulsing caress from Tom's cock as it twitched inside the soft old jeans.

"Dude, you're gettin' me real good and tied aren't ya. Makin' my biceps useless in these ropes," Tom said with increasing excitement.

"Just takin' good care 'a ya buddy... knew you'd like this... heh heh," said Tony. Reluctantly, Tony lifted himself off Tom's lap and stepped around behind to tie the rope in several strong tangled knots. Tom softly grunted as the rope received its final tightening. He made no effort to get away. On the contrary, he continued flexing his roped biceps and smiled at Tony.

"How 'bout givin' me a hand down there," Tom said pointing at his cock. The pole in his jeans was so stiff it ached. Tony reached down and gave it a few soft pats.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh maaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnn..." Tom sighed. To his immense frustration, however, Tony sooned stopped his gentle teasing. He picked up another piece of rope and sat down on Tom's muscular thighs.

"Hey buddy, put your wrists together for me, huh... I'm gonna tie 'em up real good. How about that, huh?"

Tom eagerly did as instructed and watched Tony loop the rope around and around, turned on by his own submission to the handsome cop. Rick had long ago discovered how easily Tom could be controlled, and for that reason had rarely left him alone with Tony without their cop-captive being physically restrained.

After wrapping the rope around the thick wrists several times and tying two secure knots, Tony ran his strong hands slowly up Tom's muscular forearms, teasing and tickling the thick blond arm hair.

"Nnnnnnnnuuuuhhhh." Tom let out a little whimper. Tony saw the growing wet spot where Tom's thick cock was straining to push down the inside left leg of his denims.

"Thatta boy, Tom," Tony whispered. "Let's see if we can make that damp spot soaking into your jeans just a little bit bigger... yeeeaaahhhh... get it all nice and warm and sticky down there."

"Awww, duuuude... Tony, man, you're fuckin' takin' control 'a my buff-boy muscle bod, man... aaawwww."

Tony let out a short breathy laugh. He and Tom spoke the same language - a language connected to their dicks. He continued lightly brushing his hands up Tom's arms. Tony's fingers then teasingly climbed up the coils of rope trapping Tom's biceps. His hands then slid towards each other across the top strand of rope binding the chest until each reached one of Tom's tits. Tony lightly scratched and flicked the sensitivie nubs, then delicately pinched, squeezed and pulled.

"Unnngggh... nngggghhh... aaaaahhhhhhhhhhh... ooohhhhnnggghh!"

Tom's whimpers turned to grunts and his cock spewed a big rich spurt of his construction-stud juice saturating his briefs and jeans around his bloated dick tip.

"Bet that feels real nice, huh, Tom?" Tony said with a wink.

Tom shoved his tied-up hands down towards his pecker to give it a satisfying little rub. Tony reached down and stopped him. Tom looked up and was greeted by a smirk.

"Uh uh, dude. Your piping hot sausage is off limits," Tony whispered.

Tom's mouth fell open as he watched Tony pick up the long strands of rope still dangling from his bound wrists. Tony wove each of the two strands through the coils wrapped across Tom's chest. He pulled on both of them, tugging and adjusting as Tom's bound hands raised up like a drawbridge closing shut. Once Tom's wrists were pulled tight against the ropes just below his pecs, Tony brought the remaining lengths of rope back down, threading one strand in the tight space behind Tom's wrists, and leaving the other to dangle in front. He then knotted the two ends together underneath the coils binding Tom's wrists. Tom's upper body was completely immobilized. He looked a bit like a mummy, a large blond muscular mummy.

Tony admired his work. He pressed two fingers into the wet spot on Tom's jeans and rubbed in a small circle until his fingertips were lightly coated with denim-strained stud sap. He raised the two fingers to Tom's lips and slowly smeared them with the starchy gloss. Tom's dick shot another jet of pre-cum into his pants. Tony giggled and stood up. He stepped back behind Tom, lifted him up and guided him backwards to a chair. Now moving quickly, he bent Tom's legs back at the knees and tied Tom's ankles to the rear legs of the chair.

Tom squirmed. "Man, this is hot, Tone. What're we gonna do now?"

Tony was actually enjoying himself. He thought briefly of Jason. Refocusing his attention, he patted Tom on the cheek. "Well, first dude, we're gonna do this..." He slowly lowered the zipper on Tom's jeans, reached in, and fished around for Tom's dick, gently pulling it through the fly until it was bobbing out in the open. Tony's right hand was now sticky. He couldn't take his eyes off Tom's juicy-looking rod. As Tom leaked pre-cum, Tony massaged it over the plum-sized head and up and down the warm throbbing shaft.

"Oh yeah," Tom gasped, "you're gonna suck me man, oh yeah... get down there Tone... workship my big cock...oh yeah..."

Tony stopped his teasing masturbation of Tom's shiny slippery wood. "Heh heh, that's not exactly what we're gonna do Tom," he said. He wiped his hand on Tom's jeans. "I'll be back in a bit. You just sit tight. Oh yeah, you don't have a choice, cocksucker. Ha ha ha!"

"HUH? Hey, where ya goin' dude... wait... I... I can't move... and my dick... it's itchin like crazy man... come back here!" Tom shouted as Tony marched up the steps and out of the basement.

"HEY! Ungh... shit, my dick is so fuckin' hard... fuck!"

Back upstairs, Pete had Rick sitting in the swivel desk chair, his hands tied behind his back with the phone cord and his ankles now bound with the extension cord.

Pete had spent at least half an hour trying to drive home to his tough and cunning employee an understanding that the game was up. Rick and Tom had had their fun, but now it was time to move on. Rick grumbled and whined in the face of Pete's plain-spoken approach to bringing things to a close. He respected his boss's achievements, but he certainly didn't imagine that Pete was smarter than him. Rick prided himself on being able to out-fox most people, hell look at the job he'd done on Tony Martino, and for that matter, on Tom Jenkins. He was rapidly becoming the leader of a pack at work. As far as Rick was aware, he had yet to meet the man who could outmaneuver him. He certainly didn't think his musclehead of a boss possessed the necessary wiles.

When Pete returned to the prospect of the police being informed and Rick and Tom going to jail, Rick decided to venture calling Pete's bluff. He spoke slowly. "Listen, sir. I don't know why Tony opened his big trap and told you whatever he did, but I can promise you that he does not want the police involved. Any news of this get's out to Tony's pals down at the station and his precious little career is finished. He can have his freedom back, but he'll have a hard time making the mortgage on this house when he's sweeping streets for a living."

Pete's eyes narrowed. He had a begrudging respect for the deviousness of Rick's mind, and Rick clearly saw through any threat of police involvement, but Pete couldn't stifle a snort at the gaping weakness in Rick's position.

"Tell me Rick," Pete began, "do you like your job? Let me rephrase that, do you like havin' a job at all? Because if you do not do EVERYTHING that I tell ya to, there will be consequences. First, I will tell all the guys on the crew just what interesting kinds of sexual games you like to play... with other guys! How do ya think that's gonna go down with those homophobic bruisers. Second, I will fire you... both you and Tom. Then I will blackball you from the construction business around here. You can, of course, move to a new city... apply for jobs there... they will want references from me. And references they will damn well get. You two will never work anywhere. You like that idea, you little hot-shit cocksucker?"

Rick looked genuinely shocked. He'd forgotten his own vulnerable flank! "NO WAY, MAN... NO! YOU WOULDN'T.... YOU, YOU COULDN'T... FUCK! THIS IS THE BEST JOB I'VE EVER HAD, WITH THE BEST GROUP OF GUYS... SHIT!"

Pete continued, "If you cooperate, you get to keep your job, the new car I know you bought, and all the other things that a good steady income provides. Or you can piss me off, in which case I will grind you into the ground, and I'll fuck your tough little ass while I'm doin' it. You will never get another job... ever. How's them apples for ya?"

Rick swallowed hard. "Fuck, Mr. Dubrowski, we... we were just having a bit of fun... hey, I don't care what Martino says, he liked it. Hell, man, I put a lot of work into this website and, well, you might not like this stuff sir, but a lot of guys do... shit, Tony looks so fuckin' hot..."

"Carter, you're missin' the point. I don't give a shit. This is done. Got it?" Pete said sternly. He clicked open the internet and told Rick to shut down the website.

"This totally fuckin' sucks, man... sir."

"Stop your whinin! Ya had your free ride, guy, now do it... close the damn thing down."

"Mr. Dubrowski?"

"What?"

"I can't do anything with my hands tied."

Pete's right eyebrow raised up. He wasn't sure how much he trusted this amateur tosser not to try something, but then, he had no choice if he wanted Rick to shut down the website.

At that moment, Tony entered the room.

"Where have you been?" Pete asked.

"Ha ha... takin' care of Tom!" Tony replied.

"Oh yeah?" Pete said. "Got him all squared away?"

"You could say that. He certainly isn't goin' anywhere, that's for sure, man." At that moment the three guys heard a distant voice... "Tooooohhhhhhnnn... come' on, man... duuuuuuuuuuuude!"

Pete and Tony laughed. Tony slammed closed the door to the study. Rick shook his head. "Guys, he's my best buddy and all, but damn he's an idiot."

Pete and Tony exchanged smiles.

"Brought ya some rope," Tony said to Pete. "Didn't know if ya still needed some."

"I wouldn't have minded it a little sooner, but better late than never," Pete said. He took the rope from Tony and tied Rick's waist to the chair. Then he made a collar and looped it over Rick's head, tightening it a bit around the neck. He handed the "leash" to Tony. Pete then put his hand on the top of Rick's head and mussed the unkempt, slightly longish brown hair a bit. "You need a haircut, stud." Rick tried to snap his head out of Pete's hand. He let out a long sigh... totally defeated, or so he thought. Pete untied Rick's hands and pointed to the computer.

"Get busy..." Pete instructed.

Forty-five minutes later an e-mail had been sent out to all the subscribers informing them that the website had closed. All materials on the site were deleted and "Trapped Muscle-Cop" disappeared off the face of the global internet map. While Rick took down the website under Pete's supervision, Tony gathered all the camera equipment, CDs, files, and photos, loading them into a box. He didn't know what he was going to do with all of these things. For the time being, he'd just stash them down in the basement.

When Rick glumly announced that the website was gone, Tony whooped triumphantly.

"Okay!" Pete said. "See, that wasn't so bad, was it? Just doin' the right thing. I know ya had a good time with Tony, here, hell it ain't hard to see why, but all good things must come to an end at some point, huh? Now that we're done with business, how's about we have a little fun and send this Friday night out with a bang?" Pete announced.

Rick looked up, not sure he liked the sound of that. He gave Pete a somewhat sarcastic look as he tugged on the ropes at his waist and neck.

"Oh yeah, here, let's get you out of those." Pete said.

Tony started to loosen the rope around Rick's neck until Pete gave him a stern look and slightly shook his head "no".

Once Rick's waist and ankles were free, he stood up and looked at Tony. "Why the fuck is this still around my neck. Shit, I did what you wanted," he complained.

Tony tugged on the "leash" a bit getting Rick's attention, while Pete ducked behind, grasping Rick's strong darkly tanned arms before the athletically-built construction worker realized what had happened. Pete tied Rick's wrists together, patted his employee's jeans-covered ass and announced, "Well? Come' on! Let's check out that basement, guys!"

"What's this? I got rid of the fucking website. I thought you wanted us to pack our stuff and get the fuck outta here?" Rick said confused and mightily pissed off.

"That is what we want, but it's well after midnight. We're not kickin' you out until tomorrow. That just wouldn't be gentlemanly, now would it? So, might as well have a bit of fun before it's lights-out," Pete said with a smile.

Tony tugged on the "leash". "Follow me Rick, you're gonna... ooops, I mean I'm gonna... love this!" Rick was dragged along by Tony twisting, jerking, and protesting like some kind of reluctant bull being lead into a stable.

Tom heard footsteps on the stairs leading down to the basement. Then he saw Tony coming down, his hairy muscular body on proud display in the tight white gym shorts. Tom couldn't help it, he let out a groan at the sight of his studly muscle-cop captive... former captive. He noticed Tony was pulling on a piece of rope. Two seconds later, Tom saw Rick being lead with his hands behind his back. Pete, who caused mixed reactions of lust and respect in Tom, brought up the rear. Tom looked like an expectant puppy, but instead of a wagging tail, he had a quivering cock.

"Guess what Tom?" Tony said.

Tom looked up.

Tony announced with glee, "The website is gone! But the good news for you is that you get to keep your job. That's fair, huh? The tables have definitely turned, however. You and Rick are outta here tomorrow."

Tom was staring at a scowling Rick. He hardly noticed what Tony had said. Really, he couldn't have cared less. All he wanted was to get his rocks off... now.

"Guys," Pete spoke up, "I think a farewell party is in order. Tom, you're lookin' in powerful need, buddy, but help is at hand."

Pete was standing behind Rick. He put his hands on Rick's shoulders and started pushing down.

Rick tried to jerk free and spin around. "What do you think you're doing, man? Get your hands off me!"

Pete grabbed hold of Rick's tied wrists with his right hand and jerked them up. "OW! Fuck, man," Rick shouted.

"Nowww, Mr. Carter... is that any way to behave? Don't forget that I'm your boss. You know what's coming... no getting out of it. So why don't you just settle down and take your late-night snack like a good wittle boy..." As Pete said this he yanked again on Rick's bound arms, extracting a yelp from the pissed-off and confounded deviant.

Pete gave a sudden hard push on Rick's left shoulder and the trim physique of the resistant young man gave way, the legs buckling under a surprise kick in the back of the knees. Rick found himself kneeling in front of Tom. Tony tugged on the "leash" indicating where he wanted Rick to move his grimmacing face.

"Ha ha ha... You used to be the guy in charge, but things are different now, huh? How you likin' the view from there mister?" Tony teased loudly. "Look at that big lollypop just waitin' for ya... already covered in a nice sugary glaize. Why don't you go ahead and tuck in Rick. Have a good lick!" Tony was loving this. His shorts were massivley tented. He tugged gently on the rope, hoping to drive home the inevitablity of what was going to happen.

Rick looked at Tom. He wasn't sure he could read his friend's face. Was Tom looking forward to this? That stupid shit, Rick thought. His mind flashed back to high school....

Rick, though infernally lazy, was possessed of a naturally athletic body. He had reached his final height of five feet-eleven-inches by the time he was sixteen. This made it easier to intimidate others. Rick could rarely resist bullying underclassmen, usually with just the odd verbal taunt; sometimes his antics involved a shove or a punch in the gut. On more than one occasion he demanded money - an early manifestation of his proclivity for blackmail. Fun as it was to shove around smaller or younger guys, Rick's real interest lay elsewhere. He had no idea what was going on inside him, but the guys who really caught his attention, the guys he wanted to dominate, to bend to his will, were not underclassmen, nerds, geeks, or the simply inconspicuous. Rather, time after time, Rick's roving eye landed on the jocks - the guys on the football team, the baseball team, the wrestling team, or the waterpolo team. Something about their fresh-scrubbed faces, their sweet-sweaty smell, the healthy growing muscles causing their clothes to fit so tightly, showing off their sculpted forms. He liked their joviality, their seemingly innocent horniness and playfulness, their cocky deportment and speach. Rick realized that some of them were bright. The intelligent ones appealed to him since the agony of their submission would be sweet. But Rick was smart enough to know that those guys would be very hard to manipulate, and if his efforts failed, they would beat the crap out of him. Sweeter still, he thought, were the less intelligent jocks, not just because he saw an opportunity with them, but because they exuded a more raw, untamed, sex appeal. Such had been the pleasure of casually degrading Ethan Walker, the waterpolo player with the short curly light brown hair and the endless muscled legs.

It was a brief flirtation. Leaving school after detention late one afternoon Rick had seen Walker jogging out on the track. He ambled over, dropped his backpack and sat on the grass, leaning against the wall of the gym building. When Walker finished he headed over to the door to the lockerroom, just a few feet from where Rick was sitting.

"Keepin' in shape for the meet next week, Eth?"

"Yeah, Rick. We gotta beat Greensburg if we wanna make it to the semi-finals," Ethan said.

"You'll do it man... no problem. You guys are good," Rick said with a friendly smile.

Walker was leaning against the wall. He scooted down and peeled off his tee-shirt with a sigh."

"Good development, dude. Looks like the workin' out is payin' off," Rick said, tapping the back of his left hand on Ethan's right pec.

Walker looked down at himself and smiled. He straightened his legs out straight on the grass and tensed the muscles in his thighs and calves. "These babies gotta slice through the water like fuckin' propellers man. I work them extra hard."

Rick nodded. He noticed the tanned smoothness of Ethan's legs. "Coach make you keep shaved all the time or just before competitions?" he asked.

Ethan ran his hands along the silky smoothness of his thighs. "It's kinda up to us. Coach suggests it, but it's not like we're in speed competitions or something. I, uh, I kinda like it, so I keep 'em that way all the time... an' more than that, hee hee hee," Ethan laughed.

"Huh?" Rick intoned.

Ethan pointed to his smooth chest and then he pointed down to his shorts.

"No way, dude! You shave down there?" Rick said with incredulity.

"Well, not really shave... just trim up, dude... keep it clean. Looks better in the suit."

Rick didn't agree with the notion that it looked better, but he kept that opinion to himself. He reached over and put his hand on Ethan's thigh. "Doesn't that feel kind of weird, man... I mean, kind of like you're naked or shit, I don't know... weird?"

Ethan flexed the muscles in his thigh under Rick's hand. Rick's gentle massage was causing Ethan to get a bit hard under his shorts. He didn't answer Rick's question. Rick smiled to himself. He raised up on his knees and straddled Ethan's legs.

"Hey, what're you doing, dude?" Ethan said in a near whisper as he wiped sweat from his forehead.

Rick unbuckled the worn leather belt around the waist of his jeans. Ethan rapidly got a worried look on his face.

"Eth... do you think I should trim up too... I mean, I'm not really all that hairy, but maybe... like you say, maybe it would feel nice... whaddya think?" As Rick finished speaking, he had his jeans and dirty briefs half-way down his thighs. His semi-hard dick was hanging in the breeze.

"God, Rick, I don't know... that's up... that's up to you... dude, you're like a fuckin' donkey... look at that thing."

Rick brayed like a donkey causing Ethan to laugh. He lightly flopped his dick with his hand, getting it to plump up a bit. "Well, what's your's like, dude? You got some tiny stub or something?"

Ethan, detecting a challenge to his jock-boy manhood, reacted by shoving down the front of his shorts. He looked up with a grin on his face.

"Not bad Eth, but mine's better," Rick teased. "Look..."

Rick was now pumping his dick, getting it hard. Ethan stared and unconsciously licked his lips.

"Yeah, Eth, I got a tasty-lookin' tool between my legs, huh? It feels kinda hard and soft at the same time. Know what I mean, dude... kinda like your big legs man... hard muscle packed into that soft smooth skin."

Rick leaned in closer, the tip of his dick only a few inches from Ethan's soft lips. Ethan's right hand started slowly stroking his own increasingly hard shaft. His eyes were entranced by the warm missile targeting his mouth. Without thinking why, he leaned forward a bit and took a tentative lick at the tip of Rick's knob. Rick closed the rest of the distance and rubbed his cock back and forth across Ethan's lips. Ethan started kissing the engorged bulb. Gradually, he took more and more of the head into his mouth. When Ethan's lips sealed behind the flange, Rick exhaled. He put his left hand on Ethan's right shoulder and gently massaged the firm muscle. He didn't say anything. When he felt Ethan relax more, Rick slowly pushed his hard cock all the way into Ethan's mouth, savoring the pleasant sensations. Within a few minutes he established a rhythm pumping in and out.

"Ungh... watch your teeth, dude... that... huh huh... that doesn't feel so good... yeah, yeah... that's better."

Rick was himself so caught up in his first blowjob that he hardly knew what to say. It felt too good. He wanted it to go on forever, but less than five minutes later he shot his wad into the mouth of a startled and gagging Ethan.

"AH, OH, OH, OH... aaahhhhhhhhhhhhh... oh yeah, oh yeah... uuunnnnnnnhhhhh..."

"Ggugrrlllrrrgghhh!"

"Swallow it, Eth... shit, you'll choke, dude... swallow," Rick said as he finished shooting his gism and started pulling out.

Ethan swallowed some and spat some. He had a rather nervous look on his face. He had yet to get his nut himself and looked up at Rick. He wiped his mouth with the back of his arm. "You do me now," he said with excited heavy breath.

"What?" Rick said, raising his voice as he pulled up his jeans and started fastenting the buttons of his fly. "Fuck that, dude! I don't suck dick, man. That's for you fags who shave your fuckin' pubes." Rick patted Ethan on the cheek. "You weren't bad though. I'll give ya a call next time I can't find a chick to put out for me."

Ethan's jaw dropped in shock. Rick stood up and looked down at him. "That was sweet dude. I've gotta go, though. See ya! I won't tell the other guys on your team, heh heh..."

Rick headed off to find his bicycle. Before he turned at the corner of the gym, he looked back and saw Ethan looking at him while jerking himself off like mad. Rick loved the idea that he had taken one of the school's top athletes and reduced him to a helpless horny idiot jerking his pud in the open where anyone might see him. He felt like he had just taken his first ride at a great new amusement park and he couldn't wait to do it again.

The next weekend Rick was relaxing in his bedroom day-dreaming about his fun with Ethan as his childhood friend Tom Jenkins stood at the foot of the bed talking about how much weight he was lifting nowadays. He played half-back on the high school football team and all the muscle he was building was really improving his game, he thought.

Rick looked at his big, tanned, blond friend, only seventeen years old, but already carrying 180 pounds of muscle. They had known each other since they were kids - always hanging out, playing, messing around. When they went out on dates it was always together. Tom would never take a girl out without Rick coming along, usually, but not always, with a girl of his own. From the perspective of the girls, this was always a disaster since the two guys seemed to prefer their own company to that of the girls they were with. If they went to a film, it was one the guys wanted to see. If they went for a bite to eat, it was to some restaurant or diner that Rick or Tom wanted to go to. Conversation consisted of Rick and Tom bantering to each other as if the girls weren't there. When Amy Hansen tartly quipped that the two guys should just go steady with each other, Tom rolled his eyes and apologized. Rick thought it was the only interesting thing Amy had ever said.

That Saturday, lying on his bed, looking at Tom in his blue nylon track pants with the red stripe up the legs, flexing his arms bare-chested, Rick considered that for as long as he could remember, he had dominated Tom in almost every way. Perhaps that was why it took him so long to consider the most significant form of domination.

Rick got up off the bed and went to his closet. Tom dropped his arms to his side and followed Rick with his eyes. Rick fished around in the piles of dirty clothes on the floor until he found a worn-out old tee-shirt with holes in it. He grasped it by the seams and started pulling it apart. Then he took the various panels and ripped them into shreds. He walked over to Tom who was standing, hands now on his hips, with a confused look on his face.

"Here... put your hands behind your back," Rick said. Tom complied. He looked down at his chest, liking the way this position enhanced the display of his muscular pecs. He admired the thick coating of downy dirty-blond hair that had appeared over the past year, covering the pectoral mounds and continuing in a thick trunk down his rippling abdominals before disappearing into the waistband of his track pants. He looked up and saw Rick smiling at him. The next thing he knew, Rick was behind him, apparently tying his wrists together with one of the cotton shreds. When Rick finished tying the knot in the first shred, he repeated the process with another, and another, until Tom's muscular hairy arms looked securely fastened.

"Let's see if all those muscles can get you out of that!" Rick challenged.

Tom giggled and tugged at the binds. Rick watched for about three or four minutes. He'd always kind of looked through rather than at Tom, taking him for granted. As he watched now, he realized that his buddy had to be one of the sexiest guys, maybe THE sexiest guy, in the whole damn high school. An inch shorter than Rick, and at 17, a year younger, Tom nonetheless had the handsomest square-jawed smile and a phenomenal body. His muscles were already large, solid, rounded, with just the slightest trace of puppy fat remaining. Rick couldn't help but run his palms over that hairy chest while Tom just smiled and struggled. Rick's fingers dipped into his blond buddy's hairy pits.

"Hey, hands out of the pits!" Tom laughed.

Rick laughed back, "Ewwww, a bit ticklish?"

Tom smiled. He hadn't made the slightest progress in getting his arms free, but he kept pulling and tugging at the cotton bindings. "You know I am! I don't let no one near my pits, dude!"

Rick pulled his sweat-moistened fingers out of Tom's pits and grabbed Tom's two stiff nipples. Tom gasped. Rick grinned and let go. He knelt and began untying Tom's sneakers.

"Watcha doin', dude?" Tom asked, kind of amused at this new turn in the game. Rick retied all the laces to each other in one giant messy knot as Tom looked on like he was watching a cat toy with a sleepy mouse. Tom wouldn't be able to take a step without falling over. Just to make sure that Tom couldn't go anywhere, Rick took another couple strips of the torn tee-shirt and tied Tom's ankles. When he finished, he looked up and realized he couldn't see Tom's face. The view was blocked by...

"Whooaaaaa, duuuude... nice boner!" Rick let out a slow whistle.

Tom blushed and swallowed. He tugged a bit more at his bound wrists.

Rick stood up. "You like this, Tom! This really turns you on! Dude, that is fuckin' funny."

Rick reached out and grabbed hold of Tom's stiff cock through his track pants. He squeezed it a bit and then used the material of the track pants and Tom's jockstrap underneath to polish and buff the bulbous cock tip. Tom moaned and Rick felt of bit of juice leak onto the fabric in his hand. He smiled and reached up with his other hand to brush Tom's hairy pecs again. His fingers landed on Tom's right nipple. He scratched at it with his fingertips, prompting a grunt from Tom.

"You're my bitch, dude," Rick said with an overexcited chuckle.

"Aw dude..." Tom moaned.

"Yeeaaaahhhh," Rick wheezed, continuing his ministrations. He carried on teasing Tom's body for about ten minutes until he noticed that Tom was having an increasingly hard time standing. He'd done it! He'd taken his hot muscle-bound buddy and drained him of his strength. Tom was now five feet and ten inches of squirming helpless putty in Rick's hands. Rick momentarily stopped what he was doing and turned Tom to face the edge of the bed. He stepped behind Tom, put his hands on the bigger guy's shoulders and pushed down. Tom fell awkwardly onto his knees with an "umph!" Rick stepped around in front of him and then sat down on the edge of his bed. The front of Tom's track pants was clearly wet. Tom had the horniest look on his face. Rick thought it showed Tom's true inner self - a meathead jock who needed his dick managed on a constant basis. He laughed.

"This is so cool, Tom. You look so dumb! I guess that's 'cause you kinda are. Dude, that is fuckin' sexy..."

Tom knit his brows. Rick was always calling him "dummy" or "idiot" or "stupid." He didn't particularly like it, but he'd gotten used to it over the years. Normally, he just called Rick a bunch of insulting names in return. This time he didn't say anything. He was too focused on Rick saying he looked "sexy". Rick noted the silence and pressed his advantage calling Tom a musclehead, a dipshit, and a pea-brained jock. Tom tugged at his bound wrists again and flexed his biceps. He wanted to reply, but it was like his brain was diverted by the humiliation and the sensuousness of being all tied up. Suddenly, he let out a groan as his throbbing cock squirted a heavy slug of his jock-juice into his pants.

Both guys watched it happen. There was a second of silence before Rick reached down and grasped Tom's cocktip through the track pants, using the slicked-up fabric to help baste the itchy knob with Tom's slimy football player goo.

Tom gasped at the initial touch and then groaned. Rick's eyes narrowed. He looked at his buddy grinning.

"What are you, dude?" Rick asked rhetorically.

Tom put on a show of flexing his tethered arms for Rick. He wasn't sure what was going on, but decided the best course of action in his current predicament was to giggle and play along as if this was just some sort of game like a lot of the others the guys had played with each other over the years.

With an exaggerated macho tone, and gasping a bit from Rick's ongoing attention to his hard dick, Tom said, "Aw, dude, I'm a... a musclehead jock!"

"Right, dude!" Rick said. "Now, what do musclehead jocks like you need? Huh?" Tom shrugged his shoulders, waiting for Rick to show him the next step in this new game.

Rick put his right hand on the back of Tom's head. He ran his fingers through the dark-blond hair and then pushed Tom's handsome jock face down between his legs. "This is what you need, musclehead jock-boy!" Rick opened the fly of his jeans and felt Tom's nose and lips rubbing against his own hard high-school senior dick, tenting his loose dirty briefs.

"Start sniffing, dude!"

Tom was momentarily stunned and breathed in deeply. The smell of the high school locker-room drifted across his mind. Something about that combination of odors always horned him up. In the locker-room, though, he always had to make sure his teammates didn't see his hard-on. Here, he was with his best friend, and their stiff dicks seemed to be part of the game. Tom breathed in again, this time more slowly, purposefully. Before long his nose was ferreting around the big damp sweaty cotton mound, sniffing like a pig searching out truffles.

"Aw dude, when d'ya last wash your briefs... man they're ripe!" Sniff sniff sniff.

Tom didn't know why he did it, but he wrapped his lips around Rick's briefs-encased cockhead and tentatively laved the tip with his tongue. Rick let out an almost girlishly high sigh - "Ooooohhhhhhhh" - and fell backwards onto the mattress.

A week later, Tom had arranged to go out with one of the cheerleaders. He'd put on a nicely-pressed, navy-blue, short-sleeve, button-down shirt, a pair of chinos and his new Nike's. He had about an hour and a half to kill before he was due to pick up Ashley, so he cruised over to Rick's just to make sure his friend wasn't pissed off about not double-dating this time.

"Ashley? Which one? Every girl in the school is named 'Ashley'. Well, except for the one's named 'Brittney'," Rick queried with a snort.

Tom laughed and described the big-titted brunette on the cheerleading squad. Half an hour later and Rick was on the phone talking to this 'Ashley'. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that. I know it's kinda last minute, but Tom asked me to call 'cause he can't make it. He's real tied up."

A thoroughly frustrated Ashley snapped back across the line, "Well why didn't he call me himself? What am I supposed to do now? What a prick! Tell Tom that he can forget it! I'll be telling the other girls on the squad. Tell him that!" She hung up the phone. Tom didn't know it yet, but Rick had just made sure he would never get another date with one of the cheerleaders. A major benefit of being one of the top jocks in the school had just been taken away from him.

Meanwhile, Tom grunted through the soiled briefs stuffed in his mouth. He was tied spread-eagle to Rick's bed. As Rick talked to Ashley on the phone, he used his free hand to massage his friend's bulging crotch, carefully kneading Tom's leaking nut oil into his nice clean chinos. Rick got off the phone and locked his bedroom door.

"Oh Duuuude, I don't think that Ashley chick was too happy," Rick said with a grin. "She never wants to hear from you again, ha ha. I think she's telling the other girls. No more cheerleaders for you buddy! All the other guys on the team will get to have 'em, but not you... sucks to be you, huh?"

"MMMmmmffff! Phhhiiitttt!" Tom groaned into the raunchy gag.

Rick removed Tom's new Nike's and placed them on either side of Tom's head. He straddled Tom's big chest, pulled his thick cock out of his jeans and slowly mastubated himself as Tom's watched helpless to touch his own hard pecker.

"Oh, yeah... dude your squirmin' is hot, keep it up... heh heh!"

To get the ball rolling, Rick shot his first load of the night into Tom's new sneaks and then put them back on Tom's socked feet.

"So much for your nice new Nike's, dude."

The minute Tom felt the warm slimy cum in his now spoiled new shoes soaking through his white cotton socks, he blasted his own load in his tight briefs. Rick withdrew a pair of scissors from a drawer, came back over to the bed, and proceeded to turn Tom's chinos into a pair of cut-off shorts. Tom grunted, thrashed and writhed; yet, watching Rick do this got his balls to start churning again. That tingling sensation in his hairy nutsack took over and within a few minutes Tom was softly mewling in unbidden sexual abandonment as he watched his friend slowly expose his big hairy legs. By the time Rick began cutting off Tom's nicely-pressed shirt, Tom had returned to a state of full bonerization.

"Hey, wasn't that one of your best shirts?" Rick asked.

Tom nodded frantically.

"Ooops. Guess it's just tee-shirts for you from now on, dude. Maybe you can save your allowance and buy another nice shirt in a couple months. Of course, I'll have to make rags of that one too, so maybe don't waste your money!"

Tom let out a long whimper and tugged at the ropes binding his wrists and ankles.

Rick climbed back onto Tom's chest and dragged his dickhead all over the hunky blond's face.

"Let's get that gag out..." he said.

Tom took a deep breath and started to say something when he was quickly cut off by Rick's cock pushing between his lips.

"Rick, waimmmmffffff!"

For the rest of the night, Rick made Tom suck him off and lick his butthole, laughing at the funny sounds his football-jock buddy made.

"Gggnnnrrrkkkmmm... uuunnnnnhhhh... oooommmmppphhh... slurp slurp slurp.

Rick never touched Tom's raging hard rod, but he finger-fucked two loads out of the big grunting stud.

Tom was never permitted to go on a date without Rick again. By spring, he wasn't allowed to date at all. Indeed, after their last double-date when Rick had skillfully used his foot under the table to make Tom cream his jeans, his reputation with the girls on campus was ruined. When Tom graduated a year after Rick and got his first job in construction, thanks to Rick's help, the two moved in together. From that point onwards Tom spent a lot of time tied up and horny, very very horny. Rick would occasionally masturbate Tom through his jeans or his gym shorts in some public place. He really liked to get Tom fired-up while Tom was working out with the weights at home. Rick would take Tom right to the edge, over and over, as Tom tried to concentrate on pumping his big muscles. Tom would gasp, grunt, and groan. Then Rick would tie Tom up and walk away, sometimes going out for a few beers while the insanely horny blond stud lay neatly secured to his weightbench, writhing, panting, staring at his helpless pulsing cock until the sheer excitement of his trap caused him to blast a massive load in his jock.

"HEY... HEY!" Tony shouted. He snapped his fingers in front of Rick's face. "Earth to Rick... earth to Rick..."

Rick looked up with a scowl. His sense of his own dominance and his authority over Tom was about to be seriously compromised. What annoyed him the most was the suspicion that his sexy stupid friend was relishing this reversal of natural order.

Rick felt Pete's hand gently, but forcefully pushing on the back of his head.

"Time for the show to begin," Pete said. "Tonight, your reign as Mr. Top-Man comes to an end... at least, temporarily," Pete continued, casting a glance in Tom's direction. "Look at that nice piece of beef there... poor ol' Tom, he can hardly wait... go on, help out your buddy... cocksucker. Ha ha ha!"

Rick groaned at the impending humiliation. As his head was pushed slowly down towards Tom's lap, Rick saw the long, thick, quivering dick getting closer and closer and closer until it jammed up against his lips, smearing them with Tom's oozing pre-cum. Pete gripped Rick's jaw and squeezed.

"Open up, fella," he said. "The sooner you start, the sooner it'll be over!"

Rick moaned. As he opened his mouth, he looked Tom in the eyes. Through the fog of lust, Tom understood. He'd be the one to pay for this. The fat glans slipped past the reluctant lips. Rick let out a quiet growl.

"Ha ha ha ha ha hahhh!" Tony laughed. He clapped his hands together. "YES! Oh this is prime!"

Pete retrieved the digital recorder and began filming. He brought the lens right up to the action so that Rick could see what he was doing.

"That's it," Pete cooed. "We're gonna have ourselves a nice permanent record of this. Consider it your acting debut. I doubt you'll get an Oscar for this performance, but then I always thought a job well done was its own reward. HAH!" Rick and Tom put on quite a show, the one gagging and making loud sucking noises, the other thrusting his hips up and down and looking on saucer-eyed at the unexpected retribution being meted out to his friend. Roughly five minutes later, when Tom looked like he was about to shoot his pent-up load, Rick's head was abruptly pulled off his cock.

"No!" Tom gasped. "I'm sooooo close!"

"We know ya are, Tom... just hang on, okay?" Tony said.

Pete pulled a startled Rick up off the floor until he was standing. Tony reached for Rick's belt, unbuckled it and started unfastening his jeans. Rick knew full well what was coming and started to struggle wildly, thrashing about in Pete's grip and shouting.

"Get your fuckin' hands off me! You're not queering me, assholes... FUCKERS! Stop, shit!"

When Rick's jeans were around his bound ankles, Tony grabbed a bottle of lube and did a quick and messy prep job on the warm crevice between Rick's smooth butt cheeks. Tony put the cap back on the bottle and tossed it across the room. He slid his left hand between Rick's rock-solid glutes and rubbed the slippery lube up and down the crack, paying extra attendion to Rick's tight anal knot. Rick grunted but showed little sign of pleasure. When Tony finished, he made a show of wiping his hand on Rick's tee-shirt. A struggle ensued as Pete and Tony attempted to turn Rick around so that he faced away from Tom.

"You fuckin' bastards! This isn't fair!" Rick shouted.

Pete snorted. "Well, you got a point there! By rights, you should be gettin' your ass plowed by Tony, but then, we're nice guys so were lettin' you off easy. Now stop your complainin'."

Taking directions from Pete, Tony bent down and scooped his arms around Rick's calves. Pete, standing to Rick's right side, prepared to awkwardly lift the defiant struggling construction worker by his armpits.

"Ready?" Pete asked Tony.

"Yeah, on three... one... two... three and uuuppppppp... ummmpphh!"

Rick's body flopped about like a fish out of water as the two muscular men attempted to lower him onto Tom's spit and pre-cum slicked prong. Tom watched open-mouthed and wide-eyed.

It was not a job well done. First, Rick's flapping bound wrists smacked Tom in the jaw - "OW!" Then Rick slipped from Pete's awkward grasp, his hard butt landing on Tom's lower stomach, winding the blond stud - "umph!" On try number two, Rick was dropped down on Tom's dick without plug and hole being properly aligned -"Aaarrrggghhh!" Tom yelled as his dick got uncomfortably pressed sideways.

"Okay, wait a minute, Tony," Pete said, taking a deep breath and scratching his head. "I'll get behind Tom, over here," he said as he stepped behind the suffering guy in the chair. "Now, if I lean over Tom's shoulders, I can lift Rick by the pits from here. Then, you get down there and line up Tom's dick, while I lower Rick. Okay?"

"Yeah, sure, okay," Tony said, willing to try this new approach to the problem. "Ungh!" Pete grunted as he raised Rick, using Tom's shoulders for leverage. "Ow, your elbows!" Tom complained.

Rick was kicking up a storm trying to get free. He threw his head back and whacked Tom in the forehead. "OUCH! SHIT, RICK!"

"Uh oh," Tony said from below.

"Wha... what now?" Pete gasped trying to keep Rick elevated.

"Uh... we have some deflation down here, Pete," Tony said.

The unintended whacks and punches had caused a decline in Tom's sexual excitement. "Ohhhh... fuck..." Pete moaned. He set Rick down in Tom's lap, Rick's butt cheeks squishing Tom's deflating dick between them.

Pete and Tony looked at each other. Each let out a sigh. Tony looked at Rick's face and thought steam was about to come out of the guy's ears.

Pete paced the room, looking about, picking things up, putting them down, digging through boxes. Tony, Rick, and Tom watched him.

"Ohhh...kaaayyy," Pete sighed like what was meant to be fun had somehow become a task. "Let's get Rick on the floor."

Tony and Pete lifted Rick off Tom and laid him on his back on the floor. Pete kneeled at Rick's feet with a strand of rope. He made a couple of preliminary wrappings and tied a knot. He then quickly removed the rubbery extension cord and returned to the rope, coiling it again and again, making sure Rick's ankles were, finally, truely securely bound. Rick watched squinty-eyed trying to figure out what Pete's new game was going to be. Then he saw Pete pick up the scissors!

"WAIT A MINUTE!" Rick shouted. "What are you gonna do with those?"

Pete grasped the hem of Rick's jeans on his left leg and smiled. Rick sighed in tedium and lay his head back on the carpet. Pete started cutting the jeans in a straight line up to the waistband, now loosely wrapped around Rick's thighs. He repeated the process on the right leg of the jeans. Tony pulled Rick's belt out of the loops at the waist, and Pete, with some force, cut through the waistband. The ruined jeans were pulled away. Five minutes later and Rick's tee-shirt was in similar shreds, leaving him tied up in nothing but his workboots and his briefs scrunched around his knees.

Pete picked up the tethered ankles and pushed them back over Rick's head. He told Tony to hold them there. Rick exhaled in boredom and then he saw Pete pick up the battery powered vibrating dildo. Rick's expression changed and he made the first tentative effort at kicking his legs free of Tony's grip. He saw Pete kneel down by his ass and felt more lube being squirted in the general diretion of his virgin hole. Pete rubbed the eight-inch dildo up and down Rick's crack, getting it good and slippery. Much to his satisfaction, he now had Rick's full attention. An observant Tom was boning up again. Rick felt the tip of the soft rubber device pushing against his tightly clenched asslips.

"NO!" Rick shouted. "Come' on man, enough!"

"You're losing your virgin ass one way or another, guy," Pete grumbled. He pushed, gently at first and then with increasing force.

"OWWWW! No... NNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Tom watched from the comfort of his chair as the thick flesh-colored object disappeared, inch-by-inch into Rick's butthole. When the dildo was fully inserted, Pete jiggled it around, eliciting soft moans from Rick.

Tom let out a chuckle until Rick gave him a reproaching glance.

Pete punched the little button at the base and turned on the tormenting tool. Rick grunted and groaned. In spite of his anger at having his top-man butt humiliatingly defiled, his dick began to stir.

Pete peeled off a strip of duct tape and secured the butt toy in place. He then pulled Rick's briefs back up his legs, snapping the waistband in place. He signalled for Tony to let go of Rick's ankles. A brief whispered exchange of plans passed between Pete and Tony. The next thing Rick knew, he was being hoisted up in the air and carried upstairs.

Tom could hear the shuffling of feet on the floorboards above and loud muffled protests, followed by what sounded like the front door being opened and closed. Fifteen minutes later found Tony and Pete back in the basement looking at Tom. The two guys kneeled on either side of the chair and untied Tom's legs. Tony unbuttoned Tom's jeans while Pete removed the workboots. When the jeans were slid off Tom's legs, leaving him in his jockstrap, the workboots were put back on. Tom saw Pete retrieve the scissors and knew his tee-shirt was doomed.

Tony held Tom's chin in his fingers. "How are liking this Tom? Remember what you did to my uniform? Snip, snip, snip!" he said with a grin.

Tom watched with growing excitement as his tee-shirt was shredded and pulled away. Pete rubbed the back of his hand up and down Tom's rock-solid hairy abdomen.

"Oh man..." Tom sighed. He didn't have much to say. The feel of his boss's hand... the look on Tony's handsome face... his helplessness; it all conspired to turn his dick to hard polished wood.

Pete and Tony stared for a few minutes at the guy Tony had started referring to as 'Perp #2'. Pete whispered something in Tony's ear. Two minutes later Tom ooohhhhed and aaahhhed as Tony lightly teased his stiff dick until it was dripping a steady stream of gism. At that point Tony snapped a leather, metal-studded cockring around the base of Tom's cock and balls. A thick tight black rubber band was then stretched over Tom's straining itchy knob and lodged tightly at the top of the shaft, just beneath the coronal ridge. The flow of sticky gism turned to a torturous drip.

"No way that's comin' off without a pair of scissors," Tony said, tapping Tom's sticky bloated cock helmet with his index finger.

A pair of Tom's old gymshorts, which Tony had been forced to wear repeatedly without being washed, were mashed against Tom's nose.

"Sniff these shorts, Tom. Get a good long whiff of all that sweat and grime."

Tom moaned and sniffed, inhaling deeply. "Aw geeze Tone... smells soooo gooood."

"You'll like the taste too," Tony said as he used two fingers to begin gently shoving the raunchy piece of clothing into the submissive muscle-stud's hot wet mouth.

"Yeah, chew on those shorts, baby... that's real nice," Tony taunted.

Pete unrolled another strip of duct tape. Holding it taut, so Tom could see it, he slowly brought it closer and closer to Tom's lips.

"In just a minute, here, we're gonna seal your sweet lips with this, and then there'll be no spitting those shorts out, not that you wanna... heh heh heh," Pete said.

Tom squirmed in the chair. His dick pulsed. His gism dribbled out slowly. Tony and Pete pulled Tom upright out of the chair. Tony's complicated binding of Tom's wrists was undone and the blond stud found his hands pulled behind his back, where they were loosely tied again. As with Rick, Tom was now carried up the stairs and towards the front of the house.

While Tony held onto Tom, Pete opened the front door. Tony's house had a porch across the whole of the front. Looking at the house from the street, the porch appeared to extend about ten feet to the right of the front door and about fifteen feet to the left, enclosing the window to the dining room on the right and the two windows of the living room on the left. The porch was raised about five steps above the ground with regularly spaced posts bracketing plain horizontal beams. These beams, less than waist high, rested on a series of smaller, narrowly spaced posts, the whole lot painted white. The porch thus provided a sense of enclosure while at the same time being open or exposed to the street.

As Tom was dragged out onto the porch, he saw Rick to his left tied down to a reclining lawn chair. He swallowed hard when he saw a similar lawn chair to his right, waiting for him.

"It's a bit warm and muggy out here so you guys are gonna be sweatin' a bit," said Pete, "but maybe you'll get lucky and there will be a light night-time breeze? Can't say as I notice one right at this moment though... heh heh heh!"

Tom gave Tony a pleading look. He didn't want to spend the night on the porch. It wasn't going to be very comfortable and what would happen when the sun rose in the morning, he wondered. Anyone out for a Saturday morning walk or jog would see them lying here, practically naked and tied up! Tom started to put up a bit of a struggle in Tony's hands. Pete leaned down and picked up Tom's feet and the two men lifted the wiggling squirming blond stud onto the empty recliner. Tom was bent forward. As Pete and Tony standing on either side of him, untied his wrists, he tried to break free. With his upper arms securely fastened to his torso, however, he found himself at a frustrating disadvantage. Soon enough his wrists were tied individually to the solid frame of the chair on either side of his hips. His bound feet, sweating in his workboots were fastened with more rope to the end of the chair. Pete and Tony, using a complex series of loops around Tom's waist and the metal armature of the chair took away the last of Tom's mobility. Tom, like Rick, could move his head about. He could wiggle his fingers and raise his knees a bit, but otherwise he was firmly and inescapably strapped to the metal and canvas contraption that would be his bed for the night.

When he stopped grunting, Tom thought he heard a deeply muffled buzzing sound. He looked over at Rick and noticed that his buddy's briefs were fully tented with the beginnings of a wet spot at the tip. Tom then remembered the vibrating dildo up Rick's slicked up butt. Tom thought Rick looked really pissed off, but he also looked kind of cross-eyed. The combination caused Tom to chuckle a bit behind his spit-soaked gag.

Tony had disappeared into the house, but now returned with a variety of things in his hands.

"Hey Pete," he said, "we forgot part of their outfits! Ha ha ha!" Tony produced Tom and Rick's hard plastic white construction helmets. Pete snorted while he and Tony, strapped them onto the unwilling heads of the tied-up guys.

Pete stepped back. "Huh! That's real nice. Couple 'a hot-shot construction studs lookin' lilke they got themselves in a bit of a tight spot. Heh heh, you guys really look like a pair 'a dumb-ass pricks... kinda sexy, if I say so myself, though. Yeah, that's real appropriate if ya ask me. What else ya got there, Tony?"

Tony crouched down and laid a few things out on the porch.

"Hmmmm," Pete mused as he picked up a leather cock harness. He chuckled and walked over to Rick, dangling the device before the frowning eyes of the squirming brown-haired punk.

"You know, usually this goes on the dick itself, but I'm thinkin' it might look kinda funny if I put it on ya over your briefs!" Pete lightly grasped Rick's thick tumescent rod and massaged it through the cotton underpants. Rick's nostrils flared as the pace of his breathing picked up. He scrabbled his fingers a bit and couldn't help trying to thrust his hips. He had been more than ready earlier to make Tom give him a hand job or suck his dick. Furious as he was with what was happening, and humiliated to be in such a position in front of his boss, BECAUSE of his boss, he couldn't help but get turned on by the feel of Pete's strong hand and the friction of the smooth cotton rubbing along his shaft.

Pete pressed the long leather strip of the harness along the top of Rick hard pecker. He then snapped the horizontal leather bands in place, the first right under Rick's dick cap, the next two further along the shaft and the final band at the base. Rick now felt like his dick was as tied up as the rest of him, the firm squeezing pressure keeping his mind more consistently focused on his hard-on. Where before, his briefs had been tented, the appearance now was more like a tightly furled umbrella. The forced bunching of Rick's briefs around his hard dick pulled the waistband down in a tight "vee" plunging from his hips and exposing his pubes. Pete looked at the tangled mass of dense brown hair and at the soft whispy trail leading up to Rick's belly button. His eyes gazed up further across the smooth firm abs and the low solid plates of Rick's hard hairless pectoral muscles. Pete rubbed the back of his right index finger up and down Rick's treasure trail, softly teasing the sensitive skin.

"You like that?" he asked with a grin. "Used to bein' the guy in charge, aren't ya? The tough young construction worker who puts it to other guys... only now the tables have turned, haven't they? Yeah, your boss has got you tied up with your dick in a harness and a dildo up your fuckin' ass. Heh heh. It's okay big guy, you can be in charge again... just not in charge of Tony. If ya ask me though, your buddy over there could be tamed and stabled real nicely. Think about it," Pete said. He got up to see what Tony was doing to Tom.

As Tom lay strapped down to the reclining lawn chair his mind drifted back to that fateful evening in high school when his date with Ashley was cancelled by Rick. Over the following years Tom and Rick continued going out on the town together and at least one night a week both guys would score with a couple of randy gals. They attracted different kinds of women. Rick had about him a feint air of deviousness, which sometimes came across as intense sexual allure. This could on occasion work remarkably well with intelligent and self-confident women who saw in Rick a clever boy-toy with whom they might also have stimulating sexual conversation during fairly sophisticated foreplay. Tom, on the other hand, did well with women who functioned on the same basic animal instincts - usually peroxyde blonds with huge tits, long fingernails garishly painted, and a clear fondness for tiny skirts and stiletto heels. He looked like the kind of cute muscle stud they could wave around as a kind of trophy to make their girlfriends envious. Tom was playful and energetic in the sack, if generally lacking in technique.

As much as Tom looked forward to nights out at some bar with Rick and maybe a couple other guys from work, for some reason he could never figure out, the most mind-obliterating hard-ons he ever had usually involved Rick tying him up to something, like his weightbench, stroking him to full erection, and then leaving him to squirm for hours with the prospect of no release. Blast off would only come when Rick returned home and made Tom suck him off. When Rick would pull out and fire his load in Tom's face, Tom invariably creamed his shorts at the same moment. Sometimes Rick would tell Tom to get into his old football gear. This looked increasingly comical as Tom's growing muscles made the outfit tighter and tighter. Tom usually looked so sexy that he turned himself on. Rick would then tie him up and start jerking himself off with one hand while holding a picture of Tom from high school in his football uniform. Tom would be forced to watch Rick spray his load all over the photograph, ruining it, laughing at Tom as he called him "Mr. Football Stud" or "Mr. Big Dumb Jock".

One Saturday afternoon, when Tom came back sweaty from a late-morning run, Rick ordered him to stay in his tank-top, gym shorts and running shoes. He tied Tom to a desk chair and then propped up on the table in front of the bound jock, Tom's large, framed, official photograph of the high-school football team. He pulled a tape-recorder out of a drawer and placed it next to the photograph. Rick then went to the bathroom and retreived Tom's toothbrush. For the rest of the afternoon Rick made Tom invent stories of ripe sweaty sex with the other guys on the team, describing in detail the hot muscular bodies of his jock buddies and everything he would do to them or wanted them to do to him. While Tom talked himself into a feverish state of horny arousal, Rick used the toothbrush to tease and tittilate every square inch of the bound blond's hairy gym-toned body. Tom's mantits, his roiling hairy balls, and his big straining dick received the most attention. Slowly, Rick milked five steaming loads out of Tom, draining his balls completely, determined to ensure that Tom would be a dud with any chick he managed to pick up at the bar later. As it turned out, Rick underestimated Tom's capacity for brewing up new batches of stud-spunk and Nina was grateful she had remembered to pack several condoms into her handbag that night. When Rick had to put up with Tom's boasting the next day, he formed a plan. Every Saturday night for the next month, Tom was at home in his football uniform, tied to his bed, gagged, and jizzing his jock pouch non-stop as he listened to the tape recording of himself describing sex fantasies with his former team-mates. Rick told him that when he got home he expected to find Tom's jock completely drenched or he would send copies of the tape to all the horny blond hunk's jock friends. As Tom writhed on the mattress, the mere thought of that caused him to shoot his first load of the evening.

And now he stared at the macho Italian muscle-cop who was gently tickling his furry inner thighs. Tom moaned into the dirty shorts stuffed into his mouth. Pete came over and picked up another of the items Tony had brought out to the porch. It was the shiny black butt-plug that Tom himself had happily shoved up Tony's ass on numerous occasions. This time it was headed for Tom's own tight puckering hole. Pete handed the plug to Tony, telling him that he should have the honors. As Pete spread Tom's knees uncomfortably, Tony reached under Tom's Jock encased balls and slathered the clenching hole with lube. Tom then watched the agent of his sexual torment for tonight being lowered closer, closer, closer, and then he felt the rounded tip of the cone pushing at his asslips. He made a half-hearted attempt to break free of the ropes securing his body to the lawnchair. But, as he looked at his big muscles flexing and at his boss's grinning face down at his splayed knees, his resistance began to weaken. When Tony reached over with his right hand to rub Tom's heaving rounded pecs, brushing the thick blond hair and tweaking the stiff nipples, Tom lost control. His butthole irised open and he leaked into his jock as he thought of Tony turning him into a big boy pussy.

"Mmmwwwaaaaaaahhhhhh," Tom moaned as the plug latched into place, his stuffed hole closing around the tapered end.

Tony picked up a pair of wooden clothes pegs and snapped them in front of Tom's startled eyes.

"Nnnnnmmoooohhhfff!" Tom shook his head and then looked down at his vulnerable jutting mantits. They looked like a pair of rubber eraser's that had been taken off a couple of pencils and stuck onto the sloping peaks of Tom's pectoral ridge. Tony lined up the holes near the head of each peg with Tom's nipples.

"We don't want too much of a pinch since you're gonna be wearing these for the rest of the night... just enough to apply a little pressure and hold your attention... hee hee hee," Tony giggled quietly, not wanting to wake the neighbors.

"Uummph!"

"That's one," Tony whispered.

"Uummph!"

"And that's the other!"

Tony flicked the two pegs a bit, making Tom's eyes roll back in his head and his hands bunch up into fists.

Pete and Tony stood up. "Okay guys," Pete said, "it's time for beddy-byes. Sure hope no one sees you out here... heh heh heh... man, you two would sure look like a couple 'a pervs!"

Rick and Tom groaned.

Pete continued, "See ya tomorrow morning when its time for you guys to pack up your shit and hit the road. Nighty-night studs. Don't sweat too much out here!"

Tony rubbed his hands together. "Man, Pete, this is great! Thanks."

"No prob, guy. It's time we hit the hay ourselves."

Tony and Pete went back into the house. Tony locked the front door and turned off the light on the porch, plunging Rick and Tom into darkness. Pete snickered, "Hey, do ya think those two knuckleheads have figured out what sorta trouble they're in?"

"Yeah, they know they're outta here tomorrow," Tony said.

"No guy," Pete said. "I mean, yeah, that, but also, shit, on a night like this, out there, unable to move, practically naked?"

"Yeah?" Tony asked unsure what Pete meant.

"Mosquitoes, man!"

Tony burst out laughing. "Ha ha ha ha ha... Man! I almost feel sorry for those two fuckers... nah, not really... sucks to be them, though! Ha ha ha! OH JEEZE! All that blood trapped in Tom's fuckin' tits... he's bound to get a few bites on those babies. Ha ha... he's gonna be hatin' life tomorrow, man... those bites are gonna be itchin, makin' him scratch his tits until he drives himself nuts! Oh man, that is ace... ha ha ha."

Pete nodded in conspiritorial glee. "Right, time to get some shut-eye. Hey guy, do ya mind if I bunk here for the night?"

"No problem, man, so long as you don't mind the room where I've been sleepin', down in the basement. Shit, though... it hasn't got clean sheets or anything."

"That'll be fine, Tony. On a night like this? Shit, it's so fuckin' hot, I'll probably just lay on top. Don't worry about it. Just enjoy gettin' back in your own bed again."

"Yeah! Finally. See ya tomorrow, Pete," Tony said.

"Yeah, man, g'night."

Tony surveyed his bedroom. Tom and Rick's clothes and assorted crappy possessions were lying about all over the place. Tony gathered everything up and threw it all in a big pile in the corner. He looked at the unmade king-size bed. The sheets were a tangled mess. They looked like they hadn't been changed in weeks.

"Aw shit, is that a fuckin' cum stain?" he muttered to himself. He walked over to the cupboard to pull out some clean sheets.

"Aw, man! It's all fuckin' down in the laundry room waiting to be washed. Shit! Well, I'll just have to fuckin' put up with it for tonight. Fuckin' slobs," he grumbled.

Tony kicked off his sneakers, rolled his socks off and tossed them on the floor. He lifted his legs out of his shorts. Wearing only his jockstrap, he looked at his tanned buff body in the mirror. He raised his arms in a double-biceps pose. He lowered his arms, gripped his wrists behind his back and pulled his shoulders back, stretching. He turned around and looked at the perfect globes of his muscular butt, dusted with a short downy fuzz of brownish-black hair. He turned back to face the mirror, hands on hips, admiring his perfectly sculpted chest. He ran his hands across his hairy pecs and let his thumbs flick his stiff tits just a bit. He thought of Tom groaning and squirming all tied up on the porch, that pumped up blond-haired chest as spectacular as his own. Then he thought of the look on Tom's face as he first heard, then felt those devilish little mosquitoes tickling all those short little blond hairs on his chest as they prepared to turn those luscious pecs into two big mounds of itching muscle. Tony reached down into his jockstrap and adjusted his very hard dick. He walked over to the bed, leaned forward and sniffed the sheets. He could smell Tom and Rick's sweat. His fat cock twitched in his jockstrap.

Tony turned off the light and lay down on top of the bed. He put his arms up behind his head and sniffed his pits for a few minutes. He reached down with his right hand and massaged his stiff rod through his jockstrap. He spread his beefy thighs, lowered his left hand and used a finger to lightly tickle his itching butthole. With his right hand he began corkscrewing his large fat cock-tip, rubbing the soft cotton of his jock pouch back and forth, over and around the sensitive bloated knob, scratching the sensitive skin. His breathing picked up pace and he tried to stifle a moan as he blasted six dense creamy shots of his Italian cop sauce into the stretched cotton mesh fabric.

"Oh yeaaaahhh," he moaned as he rubbed the thick ejaculate onto his hairy balls. With a final grunt and a soft sigh, Tony's let his arms fall limp at his sides. His eyes closed in the dark warm room. In those last few moments of semi-consciousness before falling into deep sleep, he thought he could see Rick and Tom and Jason and Colonel Dudley and Pete standing around his bed, looking at him. He thought he felt something wet and sticky being gently spread over his lips and under his handsome nose. It seemed so real. His dick plumped up a bit. He let out a long sigh. A cloudy memory of those two punks on the street, helping their buddy move, appeared before his mind's eye. One distant final image flitted across his brain... those punks had fastened him on his back to the roof of their car with those nylon straps. His hard dick was sticking out of his open fly. As he lay there squirming and baking in the hot sun, he heard the engine start. Next thing he knew, the two punks were driving away with him in broad daylight. His big muscular arms were struggling with the straps, helplessly. People were staring. At an intersection, his whole police unit was standing at the corner. They were laughing and waving goodbye. Tony fell sound asleep.

Pete lay naked on the bed in the stuffy basement. With his head propped up on the pillows, he could see himself splayed out in the full-length mirror that was leaning against the wall just a few feet beyond the foot of the bed. He thought that Rick and Tom had put that mirror there on purpose, to frustrate Tony by ensuring he could see his muscle-stud body humiliatingly tied to his bed at night.

Pete looked at his own body. This past spring he had turned 30 and had finally got rid of the last traces of baby fat. In any case, it seemed like it had taken that long. Working out regularly since his dad first took him to a gym at the age of 11 had paid off beautifully. A disciplined regimen and a healthy life-style had resulted in chisled perfection. He brushed his hands through the dark brown hair on his huge pecs and looked at his nipples. The aureolas had to be at least an inch across and the stiff itchy nubs themselves looked like two blunt-tipped capsules rising a quarter-inch off his chest. He had hated his nipples when he was a kid. The guys in the locker-room at school teased him about his "big tits". Pete usually laughed about it and was quick with a retaliation, but it annoyed him anyway. By the time he was 16, however, the teasing had been replaced by a kind of awed admiration for the 6'1" jock's impressive muscles and athletic prowess. Not that anyone felt intimidated by Pete. Every guy in school, from the biggest full-backs on the football team to the scrawniest scater-punks acknowledged Pete as one of the nicest guys on campus. He didn't necessarily go out of his way to befriend people, he was simply good natured and had an air of determination to get on with his life. He worked hard in his classes, doing well, or trying to do well in most subjects. He pushed himself though technical college and followed his dad straight into the construction business. By the time he was 25, he was assistant manager at a small firm, then a year ago became full manager for one of the larger construction companies in the region.

As he lay on the bed in Tony's basement, looking at himself in the mirror, Pete reflected on his life. Everything was going as well as could be hoped. His younger sister had married a great guy, a lawyer - in the construction business it was always good to have a connection in the legal profession. They were now expecting their first child. Pete's parents had recently celebrated a big wedding anniversary. The whole family had gone on a cruise and had a blast. Pete himself was making rapid progress on paying off the mortgage on his house. He generally kept his spending down out of innate prudence rather than for lack of money. Indeed, he was turning a great salary, one that looked set to get bigger if he pulled more contracts like the one for that high-rise downtown. He had a good set of friends, and lately a great workout partner. The only thing that seemed to be missing was someone to share it all with.

Pete's nostrils flared as he breathed in the funky smell of Tony's sweat wafting up from the sheets or the pile of gym clothes over in the corner. He saw Tony's gym bag sitting on the carpet and got up off the bed to go look at it. Pete unzipped the top flap and pulled out Tony's neatly rolled police uniform. He unfurled the bundle and hung the trousers up in the closet. He held onto the navy-blue cotton shirt and brought it back to the bed with him. Pete held it up and looked at it. He then lowered it to his nose and sniffed at the pits, inhaling Tony's salty-sweet stink. He lay his head back on the pillows and draped the shirt over his face. Pete's big muscular arms stretched down to his crotch. With his left hand he delicately fondled, squeezed, and tugged on his huge hairy nut-sack. The fingers of his right hand traced lightly up and down his rapidly hardening dick. He cupped his big dick helmet in his palm. As pre-cum began to flow, Pete massaged it into the skin, building up a smooth steady friction that had his toes curling in no time. He was breathing heavily under Tony's uniform shirt.

"Ah yeah... ahhhh that feels gooood... yeah..." Pete sighed. "Just one thing missin' in my life and that's you baby... oh yeah... fuckin' hot muscle-cop... damn, those Italian good looks, those big muscles... yeah, real nice guy, real nice............. that big hairy chest, yes sir... suits me perfectly, ooohhhhhhhhh, yeeeaaaahhhh... this is gonna be good you raunchy fuckin' stud... I know just what you need and I'm gonna make sure you get it... get you nicely collared... that big dick of your's put in a cage so only I can play with it... gonna keep you workin' out good and hard, Tony, especially those sweet lips and that big tongue of your's... you're gonna be my nice big muscle-boy slave... permanently... heh heh... aaaaahhhhhhhh, yesssssssss... none 'a this blackmail shit either, no sir... that's amature, just a lot of wasted effort... oh yeah... musclehead like you just needs to be kept horny and fed a regular diet of humiliation... right out in the open where everyone can see. Yeah, you're a pig in shit and you don't even know it. Don't you worry big guy, we'll take it nice and slow, work our way up gradually to dismantling your hot-shot straight-fuckin' ass reputation down at the station. Ohhhhhhh, this is gonna be nice..."

Pete pulled the shirt off his face. He closed his eyes and pictured Tony all tied up as he leaned down to give him a warm wet kiss on the lips while he jerked him off in his shorts.

"Uunnngggghhhhhhh! Hoh! Aaarrrrggghhhhh! AAAAHHHHH! Oooooohhhhhhhh!"

Pete's gloopy crud geysered out of his dick cascading all over his sweating body and the sticky smelly sheets. He let out a quiet laugh, turned out the light, rolled over on his side, and fell asleep with a huge smile on his face.