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 15 By Reflex (reflex012004@yahoo.com) Copyright 2006
Part 15: Promotion
"We're gonna let you off with a warning this time. We catch you pulling this kind of crap again, and it will be a trip downtown and a call to your parents. Understand?" Officer Martino asked.
"Yes, sir," replied the two junior high-school kids.
"Good. Now go home and... do your homework, or somethin'."
And so passed the big event of Tony and Jason's Wednesday morning patrol: two teenage boys caught trying to steel chocolate bars and assorted packets of sweets from a local mini-mart.
"Stupid punks," Jason muttered as he got back in the police cruiser.
"Aw come'on, you didn't try to get away with a little shit like that when you were their age?" Tony asked.
Jason didn't reply. He was still fuming over the recent turn of events in his life. In fact, Tony had hardly been able to get a word out of Jason since they got back to work on Monday morning. Jason was furious over his entrapment and the collapse of his plans for besting Tony at work. Tony, on the other hand was enjoying the pleasure of a problem shared. As far as he was concerned, Jason got what he deserved. Although this did not ultimately resolve Tony's own predicament, it did, at least, mean that he was not the only pig stuck in a rut. He had held off taunting Jason for two days now, but he could resist no longer.
"So... heh heh... Private... how are things over at the Colonel's?" Tony asked. "Like you don't know... fuck off!" Jason replied.
"Hey Jason, you asked for it. You tried to fuck me over big-time, buddy, so don't expect me to feel sorry for ya. At least now the promotion is gonna be decided fair and square."
Jason sulked.
"So... uh... what kinda deal has ol' Dudley cut with ya? You have to report to his place every weekend? Somethin' like that?" Tony asked, his imagination wanting detailed images.
Jason looked at Tony like he was going to strangle him. "No, shit-for-brains..."
"Well, what then? Don't tell me he just let ya go?"
"I'm fucking moving in, asshole!" Jason spat out. "The lease on my apartment comes up for renewal in September, only I don't get to renew it. I have to move to that fuckin' brig the Colonel has set up in his basement. Criiiipes... who builds a fuckin' army jail in their fuckin' basement? Military or not, he's a fuckin' bastard, man. Fuck!"
"So you're movin' all your stuff over to his place?" Tony asked with a smile. "We're gonna be neighbors."
"He's allowing me to keep some of my stuff, but the furniture is gettin' sold off or delivered to some charity or something... I don't know. How fucking humiliating.... My own property taken away from me like I had no say in the matter. That's fuckin' illegal, man."
"Heh heh... Welcome to my life, pal. Think of it this way, there's lots'a charities that could use the money... plenty a' good causes out there," Tony said with a chuckle.
"Fuck you, Martino. That fuckin' bastard has already got rid of all my clothes. Almost all I've got left is my uniform and the fuckin' kinky shit he makes me wear! Fuckin' degrading, man. The fuckin' Colonel is totally fuckin' bringing me down," Jason whined as he squirmed in his seat and unconsciously palmed his hardening dick.
"'Fuckin', fuckin', fuckin'...', nice vocabulary you've got there Jase, ha ha. Listen buddy, I feel your pain. Ha ha ha ha ha!" laughed Tony.
"It's not funny, man! I'm fuckin' trapped! You hear me? Trapped! Unless I want my career sucked down the drain, I've got to do everything that motherfucker says. And it's your fault!"
"Uh... correction... it's YOUR fault, so just shut up and stop your whinin' about it," Tony said.
"Stop the car," Jason said.
"What?"
"You heard me asshole. Pull over there, by that park, and stop the fuckin' car, DAMMIT!" Jason shouted.
Tony pulled over. Jason got out of the car and walked over to Tony's door. He opened it.
"Get out here!" Jason said in a low voice.
"What the fuck is this, O'Reilly?"
Tony got out of the cruiser and slammed the car door closed. Jason signalled for him to follow. They were not more than fifty feet from the car when Jason spun around and slugged Tony in the gut.
"UUMMPPPHHH!" Tony folded over slightly and moved to protect his stomach. His face was red. In a fraction of a second, with his head kept low, he charged Jason like an angry bull, knocking his colleage on the ground and punching his ribs. Jason returned the punches, pounding on Tony's back and trying to kick him off. "You fuckin' son of a bitch!" Jason yelled.
Arms flailing and legs kicking, the two cops rolled on the grass, one trying to defeat the other, in full public view. The two policemen's caps and sunglasses had flown off in the fray. The punching quickly turned to wrestling as Tony tried to subdue Jason. Legs wrapped around each other as they contined to role. Grass and dirt stained their trousers. Shirt-tails came untucked and buttons popped off as each guy struggled to get the other on his back. Jason flipped Tony on top of him, face up. He got his legs wrapped tightly around Tony's thighs and his left arm locked around Tony's neck. With his right hand, Jason reached down to Tony's belt and began to unbuckle it.
"This what you want faggot? My hand on your big fat cop dick? HUH?" Jason breathed heavily into Tony's ear.
While Tony was trying to pry himself loose from the muscular left arm tightening around his thick football-player neck, Jason popped the button at the top of his trousers. He roughly shoved his hand down, busting the zipper on Tony's uniform pants... zzzzzrrrrriiiiipppp!
"UNGH!" Tony grunted. "YOU FUCKER! GET YOUR HAND OUTTA THERE! AW ssshhhhiiitttttt..." Tony's yell had turned into a hiss as Jason quickly worked the hunky Italian's rapidly stiffening pole.
"Yeah, got'ya you big dumb Italian stud. We'll see who's boss, pussy..."
Tony moaned lightly. "Aw no Jason... nooooooo..."
Jason smirked as Tony's strong arms seemed to slacken.
Tony raised his pumped hairy arms above his head as if in surrender. He then snaked his right hand under Jason's head, cupping the back with his palm. Jason lifted his head up, looking over Tony's shoulder to watch his handiwork on his partner's crotch. As he did this, his nose picked up the strong sent emanating from Tony's right armpit. He chuckled.
"Heh heh. Maybe what you need is a bit of pit work, Martino. Ha ha! How about it stud, huh?"
Confident in having proved his superiority over Tony, Jason raised his right hand out of Tony's trousers and stuck two fingers under Tony's right shirt-sleeve. He started massaging the dense tufts of hair in the exposed right pit. Jason lifted his left arm from around Tony's neck and started a gentle tickle of Tony's left pit. Tony looked down at his packed white briefs bulging out of his uniform trousers, exposed now to the late morning sun. He turned his head to either side watching Jason extend his control over his buff body through a bit of simple pit teasing. As Tony lay on top of Jason he could feel his partner's chest rising and falling slowly. He grinned as he realized that Jason was, himself, contentedly gulping down his pit stink.
"Yeaaahhh... breathe that nice aroma pal. Good huh?" Tony cooed.
Jason stopped what he was doing for a second. With a heave, Tony flung himself off the muscle-packed body beneath him and then scrabbled like a madman to bury his opponent's face in his left armpit. It took a startled Jason nearly a minute to realize what had just happened. Just as he was about to fight back the two cops heard a familiar voice.
"What the hell is going on here? Martino! O'Reilly! Knock it off right this minute... Okay, everybody, show's over... go on about your business... GO ON!"
Tony and Jason snapped to attention. Looking up they saw Porter and Rodriguez standing over them. Rodriguez moved to usher away the small group of onlookers. Porter reached down and pulled Tony up.
"Get up you two. What is this? Jeeze, look at you. Button your shirts up and tuck them back in your trousers. Dammit Tony, what the hell are you doin' with your fucking pork-stuffed briefs bulging outta your fly. Zip up man, that's obscene," said Officer Porter.
Martino and O'Reilly started straightening up their uniforms, brushing off the grass and dirt. Rodriguez came back over having retrieved Tony and Jason's caps and glasses.
Tony's hands were fumbling with his zipper. He looked up. "Uh, thanks Rodriguez," he said.
Al Rodriguez let out a whistle... "Tighty-whities, huh? Lookin' pretty packed Martino, ha ha ha."
The twenty-five-year-old cop blushed in embarassment. His cock lurched and spat out a heavy dollop of precum. A small gasp escaped his lips. Rodriguez's eyes nearly popped out of his head as he saw the large wet stain spread across the bulging pouch of Tony's briefs.
"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha HAH! Don't get too excited there fella... just get your fat salami put away!"
"Ungh," Tony grunted. "The fuckin' zipper's busted, man." He put his hands over his crotch, feeling totally humiliated.
"I... I... I...." Tony's tongue was tied in knots. He didn't know what to say. As the three other guys looked at him, he thought he was going to shoot his load. "Oh man," he thought to himself, "they wouldn't make me do that would they? Damn, these are my buddies from work. They wouldn't stand here and make me spray my splooge in my tight briefs? Oh man, oh man."
Tony looked up at Jason who had a huge grin stretching across his suntanned face. Porter spat out, "What are you smiling about O'Reilly? You're in trouble too... the pair 'a ya! Officers of the law behaving like a couple of brawling punks in a public park. What the fuck were you thinking?"
"Uh... umm." O'Reilly's grin had disappeared.
"We weren't just driving by, you knuckleheads," Rodriguez said. "Someone saw what was going on and called the station, reporting two officers fighting with each other. They cited your car's police registration number. This little spat has been logged downtown... do ya get me? Clemens is gonna want to see you when you get back from finishing your shift."
Porter joined in, "Meanwhile, you two have about another forty-five minutes of morning duty to complete. Whatever the problem is, settle it at the station, not out here in broad daylight, you idiots. Now, get going... and no more screwing around."
"Ha ha," Rodriguez chuckled. "Yeah, no more............ screwing............... around."
Officer Porter's frown betrayed the slightest hint of a smirk as he and Officer Rodriguez turned and headed back to their car.
Tony and Jason, without a word to each other, sullenly headed back to their own cruiser. A silent forty-five minutes later and they pulled into a small take-away sandwich shop on the way back to the station. The condition of Tony's trousers prevented him from going in.
O'Reilly looked at Tony's crotch with a smile. "You want anything?" he grunted as he unfolded himself out of the car.
"No," Tony replied sourly. "I've got a sandwhich back at my desk."
"Oh yeeeaaaahhh... I forgot... your tasty home-made sandwiches."
Tony gripped the steering wheel with both hands like he was going to break it. "Dammit," he muttered.
"Heh heh. Back in a few... you just sit tight," said Jason, closing the car door.
The air-conditioning system had gone down at the station. The place was swampy when Martino and O'Reilly walked in.
"Oh no, not again," Jason complained.
"Yes, again," said DeeDee Dunster, one of the secretaries walking through the front hall of the station as the two studs entered.
"Bad enough we got no air-con in the car, but here too... sheeiitt," Tony grumbled.
"Oh peee yeww," Jason said waving his hand in front of his nose as he and Tony turned the corner into the large room where most of the guys had their desks.
"Smells like sweat and sock stink, don't it," Tony said. "Real cheesy."
Jason expelled a short breath of air, "Hunh...." Something about that thought made him clench and unclench his fists, flexing the muscles in his big hairy arms. He squeezed his firm rounded butt cheeks together as if he had felt a fleeting tickle on his ass pucker. He made sure he was sitting down at his desk before he adjusted his crotch. He looked over at Tony who was sniffing his sandwich before taking a big bite. The big BLT in the cop's left hand looked copiously packed with creamy drippy mayonnaise. Tony's right hand appeared to be under the desktop. Jason smiled as he chowed down on his own sandwich. Tony looked up and saw Jason staring at him. Slowly, as if he thought Jason wouldn't see, Tony raised his righthand up onto the desk. Jason grinnned and winked at him. "How's that extra mayo Martino?" Tony felt a further tightening in his briefs. "Just the way you like it O'Reilly," he grumbled as he turned to his computer to check his e-mail. There was a message from Pete asking if he was coming to the gym tonight? Tony fired off a reply, "You bet. Like always, dude. See ya there. T."
Sometime around one o'clock a message came over the loudspeaker asking Officers Martino, O'Reilly, Eddie Cartwright, Al Rodriguez, and Mitch Henderson to come to Burt Clemens's office.
As the men filed in, the Captain stood behind his large oak desk. Clemens was an imposing man. Around 50 years old, the father of four (all of them university graduates), his large, slightly arched nose, bluish-gray eyes, buzz-cut dirty-blond hair, and strong chin gave him an air of vigorous authority. He leaned his muscular six-foot frame across the desk to firmly shake the hand of each young officer.
"Officers, I imagine you know why I have asked you here. I want to thank you all for applying for the promotion. It has been a pleasure to review each of your files. I feel that I know each of you better than I did before.
"Of course, at the present time, only one of you may be promoted. I would hope that others among you would not look upon this as a set-back. In reviewing the applications, I have sought the officer whose skills and abilities most closely matched the requirements of this particular position. Other positions will appear in time, and I hope that most of you will re-apply. I believe I can honestly say that the police force of our fine city strives to reward merit.
"That being said, I have in my hands a new contract, incorporating new responsibilities, increased salary, and increased authority within the force. I would like to offer this contract to you... Officer Alberto Rodriguez."
Al Rodriguez, twenty-two, going on twenty-three, barely more than a rookie, stood still. He could hardly believe it. He had worked hard and consciensciously since joining the police almost two years ago, all the time under the assumption that his efforts were never seen, let alone noticed by his superior officers. Only when officers Henderson and Cartwright shouted "hip hip hoorah" and patted Al on the back, could he believe that he had gained the promotion.
Captain Clemens stuck out his hand again. "Congratulations Al. You might want to give a 'thanks' to your fellow patrol officer, Porter. He wrote a fine letter on your behalf.
"Thank you, sir. Thank you. I'm honored," said a smiling Rodriguez.
"I think your new office is all in order. You can get the keys from DeeDee. The position is effective immediately. You understand? You start now."
Tony and Jason were speechless. Begrudgingly they shaked Rodriguez's hand.
"How the hell did that fucker get the promotion?" Tony whispered in Jason's ear.
"Got me. I thought all he ever did was rescue stranded kitties and help the elderly across the street," Jason whispered back.
The men started filing out of Clemens's office.
"Martino, O'Reilly, hang on a minute, if you don't mind," said Clemens in a low voice.
"Oh shit," Tony muttered.
When the other three officers had left, Clemens closed the door and returned behind his desk.
"Officers, I understand that you two had something of a fight this morning." Tony and Jason were silent.
"The kind of public display you two put on in a neighborhood park today, is unacceptable behavior. You bring embarassment to the police department and you disgrace your uniforms."
"Yes, sir," both young cop-studs said at once.
"The penalties that apply to disorderly conduct amongst the civilian population, apply double to a member of the city's finest. Fortunately for you, Rodriguez and Porter pleaded leniency."
Tony and Jason looked at each other and then back at Clemens.
"As for exactly what your punishment will be, you will have to take that up with Rodriguez. I suggest you do that pronto."
"Yes, sir," both officers repeated as they turned to leave.
Clemens raised his voice. "Hang on! I didn't say you were excused.... In consequence off the mistreatment you have brought to your uniforms," Clemens continued, looking pointedly at Tony's trouser fly, held together with two safety-pins, "I present you with a new set. Your old uniforms, including any sets you have at home, are to be turned in by tomorrow morning."
Clemens handed a large brown-paper-wrapped parcel to each officer. "Well, what are you waiting for men? Get into your new uniforms... NOW!"
"Here?" Jason said. "Shouldn't we go to the..."
"YES, HERE!" said Clemens as he folded his arms across his chest.
Tony and Jason unwrapped the parcels and pulled the new uniforms out. Each parcel contained two pairs of trousers and five shirts.
Each officer stripped down to his underpants, socks and shoes. As they started putting their shirts on, Tony and Jason noticed the same thing.
"Uh, sir," Tony said. "I think there has been a mistake. This shirt is too small... sir."
"Martino, it has not gone unnoticed that you and O'Reilly like to strut about, aggressively showing-off your fit, manly, gym-worked bodies. That being the case, it seemed only 'fitting', ha ha, that I should help you along. I told the people over in the uniforms department to tailor your shirts and trousers so they fit as snugly as possible. Your bodies may feel a bit constricted, but if I understand correctly, you two will enjoy that. Now put your clothes on!"
Tony and Jason each let out a little groan at the public recognition of their muscle fetish. They struggled into their new uniforms, shoes back on and belts and badges in place. The two cops looked like they had been painted into their clothes. "Aw geeze," Tony whined, "I can't get the top half of my shirt buttoned, sir." Tony had managed to fasten his shirt from the bottom up to the last button at the base of his jutting pec ridge. Above that line, his pecs and shoulders pulled the panels of the shirt open, exposing the dense lawn of short black hair that covered his whole upper chest, looking neatly trimmed at the collarbone. Jason had the same problem. "My fuckin' hairy chest is gonna be on permanent display, sir."
The Captain snorted. "Watch your language O'Reilly and straighten up!"
The two cops stood to attention, muscles flexing, trying to stretch the tight cotton blue shirts and cotton/nylon blend trousers. Clemens laughed. "That's it boys. Now you're poster material for the PD instead of the disgrace you were when you walked in. Go see Rodriguez."
Tony and Jason were heading out the door when Clemens called out, "Oh, O'Reilly. Give my regards to Dudley will you. Shut the door on your way out... there's a good boy. Hah hah!"
"Aww man, we've been royally stitched up. Shit, it's the fuckin' Colonel who's done this," Tony said when he and Jason were out in the hall.
"No, the Colonel, you think so Tony? Gee you could be on to something there... dipshit," Jason replied sarcastically. "Getting passed over for Rodriguez? He's like two or three years younger than us. This can't bode well for getting promoted in the future. We're at the bottom of the heap, man, and I've got a feeling that we are gonna fuckin' stay there. Fuck!"
Tony put his hands on his hips and frowned. "Naw, you heard Clemens. He said the rest of us shouldn't take this as a set-back."
"He said 'others AMONG you' and that he encouraged 'MOST' of us to apply for the next promotion. I'm not kiddin', bro, he fuckin' singled us out. That was his little way of saying that he was gonna make sure you and I stayed right where we are - permanently. He thinks of us as a couple 'a muscle-brained beat cops to be kept confined to the bottom of the pay-scale."
"Hunh..." Tony grunted. "Speakin' 'a confined, I feel like the seams on this uniform are gonna fuckin' burst... kinda cool though... you can really see all my muscles. It feels kinda... kinda..."
Jason stopped and looked down at his body. "Sexy.... ," he said, finishing Tony's sentence. "Yeah I hear ya, dude," he continued. "How do I look, Tony?"
Tony appraised his partner. "Hot man. It really emphasizes your trim waist and big pecs."
Jason ran his hand down his abs and looked over at Tony's chest. "Yeah, yours too. And your biceps, dude, busting out of those short sleeves... looking real good."
Tony admired himself and then looked at Jason in the eyes. "Shit dude, what are we gonna do though. I mean, the Colonel said he knew Clemens from way back and all, but how much do ya think he told the Captain... about us?"
"I don't know man. We could be really screwed. Let's go see what Rodriguez has to say."
Tony and Jason knocked on the partially open door of Rodriguez's new office. "Hey, guys, look at this. Pretty nice, huh?" Rodriguez said, his arm gesturing towards the big desk in his small private office. He turned to put a framed picture of his mother up on top of the filing cabinet.
"Yeah, real nice," Tony said, somewhat peevishly.
"Hey, uh, sorry and everything... I mean, may the best man win and all that... I don't know... well whatever," said Rodriguez feeling genuinely awkward, but also really excited at having gotten the promotion. "Man, my parents are gonna flip when I tell them the news. A promotion... me... and I'm only fuckin' twenty-two. We'll probably have a big party or something. I'll let ya know."
Rodriguez was such a nice guy and his joy was so infectious, Tony and Jason couldn't help but feel a little happy for him. They both smiled weakly.
"So... what's up guys?"
"Uh, Clemens said we hadda come see you about makin' up for this mornin's little, uh, incident," Tony said.
"Oh yeah, have a seat guys."
Tony and Jason decided to remain standing, thinking they were sending a message to Rodriguez that promoted he may be, but they weren't bending to his authority.
"Okay, so, here's the deal. You dudes have gotta do three months extra service for the department as penalty."
"No way," Jason blurted out. "What the fuck is that going to entail?"
"Well, now, let me look at the file... hang on, it's down at my old desk. I'll be right back," Rodriguez said.
"Man, I don't get promoted AND I have to do extra work around here?" Tony snarled, steamed up. "This sucks... and it's your fault you fuckin' cocksucker."
"Who are you calling a cocksucker, cocksucker? The way I see it, it was you who totally dropped me in the shit, faggot," Jason snarled back.
Tony was getting more pissed off by the second. "You're the faggot! You tried to fuck me over and in the end you got what you deserved you fuckin' pit-licker!"
Both young studs tensed their muscles, preparing to wrestle the other into submission on the floor of Rodriguez's office.
"You're the fuckin' queer-assed pit-licker," Jason nearly shouted. "I was just putting you where you belonged!"
"HEY... hey guys," said Rodriguez, who heard the shouting from down the hall. "Come'on... so far as I can tell you are both a couple of dumb-ass pit-lickin' muscle-boy cocksuckers. Now shut up!"
Tony and Jason stood with their mouths open. Their thick hairy arms hung at their sides, their mounded pecs pulled at the panels of their partially-buttoned shirts, their bubble-butts and muscle-packed hairy thighs strained at their tight itchy trousers.
"Yeah," said Rodriguez, "I'm young, but I'm not stupid... anyways not as stupid as the pair of you. Now siddown! Better yet, on your knees, spread wide as you can get 'em... NOW!"
Rodriguez loved watching the two hunky studs, so totally taken aback they didn't know what to do.
"On your knees! Don't make me repeat it or it's gonna go harder on you." Rodriguez sat down on top of the desk and looked at his two dumbstruck fellow officers as they slowly lowered themselves, spreading their legs as far as their tight trousers would let them. When they sat back on their haunches, their balls were about six inches off the floor.
"Good... good. Now, put your hands behind your back... yeah, like that, good, that's real nice. Now, stick out your tongues."
Tony and Jason looked at each other. "What the fuck, Al?" Tony said.
"Stick... out...your...tongue. Come'on, you speak English Tony, or something like English, anyway."
"Hey," Jason said. "You can't talk to us like that!"
"The hell I can't," said Rodriguez scooting himself off the desk. He walked over to the two kneeling cops and put a rubbersoled foot on each crotch. This only put a little bit of pressure on the two pumped-up crotches. It was going to leave a big dirty shoe imprint, but for Rodriguez it was mostly a symbolic act of domination and an assertion of his new authority.
"Hey, wha... umph," Tony said. Jason responded likewise and started to move his hands back up front to throw off Rodriguez's leg.
"UH UH UH... get 'em behind your back O'Reilly," Rodriguez said sternly. "Look, I'm a nice guy, but I like to have fun too and you two have a penalty coming. Now, tongues out! That's it."
Tony and Jason rested on their spread-apart knees, the muscles in their arms twitching, their fingers wriggling behind their backs, their crotches involuntarily tingling.
"Whabba ya wan ower thungs out fthor?" Jason lisped.
"I just wanted to make sure they were good and healthy for the job I've got lined up for you."
"Huh?" queried Tony, his thick black eyebrows raised.
"Yeah... hee hee hee... it seems you guys don't understand the importance of keeping your uniforms tidy at all times. It's a matter of professional dignity guys. So, we thought we would teach you just how important it is... and take away a little more of your dignity at the same time... ha ha! I promise you, you're not gonna like it, but it's gonna be great for the rest of us."
"Hey, man, this doesn't sound..."
"TONY... tongue out!"
"Yeth, thir..."
"Okay, this is a shoe-shine kit. There's one for each of you. The kit contains polish, a brush, and a soft cloth. For the next three months, you are to keep your fellow officers' shoes in spit-shine condition. When any one of the guys comes up to you and says he needs his shoes polished, you hop to it, right there, just like a professional shoe-shine service, only better since the guys can sit at their own desks and look down at you working away!"
"We're fuckin' shoe-shine boys? No way," Jason spluttered. "You can't do this!"
"Yes... yes, I can do this. And any failure to comply and you will be penalized further, got it?"
"What did we have to stick our fuckin' tongues out for, then?" Jason asked.
"Oh that... I was just amusin' myself. Pretty funny huh? You two looked real stupid with your tongues pokin' outta your mouths."
Rodriguez wasn't absolutely certain, but he thought he felt the two bulges under the soles of his shoes kind of pulse and expand.
"You're not gonna be lickin' anybody's shoes, if that's what you were thinkin'. Even though I bet you two'd probably like that, ha ha, I don't think any of the guys around here want your spit on their leathers. Okay, guys, that's it... get to work."
Jason and Tony started to get up.
"Hey, where you goin' in such a hurry. I didn't say you were dismissed. I said get to work... on my shoes dickbrains."
"Aw come'on, you're not fuckin' serious about all this shoe-shine shit, man? Are ya?" Jason asked.
"Uh, yeah O'Reilly, get with the picture. I'm not joking," Rodriguez said as he raised his shoes up to their faces. "Come'on, back on your knees... move it!" Rodriguez sat back on top of his desk. The two tightly-uniformed cops lowered themselves again and each, tentatively, grabbed hold of the shoe in front of him. Tony picked up the tin of black polish, dabbed some on the cloth and began rubbing Rodriguez's shoe in a circular motion, spreading the polish out and working it in. Jason followed suit.
"Man, you guys really are a couple'a muscle-studs aren't ya. I mean, I workout an' all, but you two are really fit. Look at those arms... those... those... hey, what's up with your uniforms? They look about two sizes too small."
Tony leaned back smiling and did a double-biceps flex. "Hot huh?" Jason frowned at him. His competitive spirit rising, he leaned back and flexed his own muscles.
Al Rodgriguez burst into laughter. "Hah hah hah hah hah hah hoh hoh hah hah! You two crack me up. You really perv over your own muscles dont'ya? I mean come'on, those uniforms guys? Yeah, they make ya look hot, but hell, they're kinda nasty, ya know, obscene. You look like a couple a cop muscle-SLUTS."
Jason quickly reached down and readjusted his package. He looked up at Rodriguez who had clearly seen the brief action. Rodriguez cocked an eyebrow. Jason winced.
"Hey O'Reilly, why dont'ya take off my right shoe there."
"Uh... uh... why Al?"
"O'Reilly, when I give you an order, you snap to it unless you want a note of disobedience added to your file."
Jason started undoing the laces.
"What are you waiting for Martino? Hop to it."
Tony looked up and then looked back at Rodriguez's left shoe. He likewise started unlacing.
"That's it, guys. Now take them off."
"Oh pheeeeewww..." said Tony.
"Hey, that's fine Latino sweat man. You telling me those big Italian feet of yours don't steam up a hefty perfume of their own? Here take a sniff."
Rodriguez stuck his socked foot in Tony's face. Tony immediately lurched back. "Get that stinker away from me, man!" Tony shouted.
"Okay, okay... just take a sniff though, huh? Come'on Martino, don't make me order you to do it."
"What? Order me?"
"Tony, I got a feeling you protest too much." Rodriguez bent over at the waist and slid his hand down his own leg, clamping it around his own ankle. This brought his smooth muscular arm into Tony's view. His arm thus stretched out straight, Rodriguez flexed his tricep muscles. Almost whispering, he looked at Tony eye to eye and said, "Go on Tony, take a whiff... just a little one... go on, buddy... you know you want to."
Tony looked up at Rodriguez's bunching tricep and then looked down at the socked foot.
Rodriguez cocked an eye over to Jason who was staring, eyes glazed over, something large unmistakably tenting out the front of his trousers. Rodriguez sat up and smiled. Putting both hands on the edge of the desk he lifted himself up a bit, stretched his right leg out, and pressed down with his right foot on Jason's trapped boner. Jason's eyes opened wide. He looked up at Rodriguez and gulped.
"Take off the sock Jason," said Rodriguez in a deep low voice. Jason reached up Rodriguez's trouser leg and began peeling the sock downwards.
"Now pick my shoe up off the floor and start polishing it. Yeah... that's it. Now, open your mouth."
Jason looked up, a small whimper escaped his throat. Rodriguez slowly pushed his big toe between Jason's lips. "I don't know if you're a cocksucker O'Reilly, and I don't wanna know, but I'll tell ya this... you like the smell of a guy's sweaty feet. You may have a lot of muscles... and I can see that you got a big hairy chest, but right now, you buddy are my little toesucker."
"Nnnmmmppphhh," Jason gurgled around the big smelly toe as he resumed polishing the big black police-issue shoe in his hands.
Rodriguez looked back over to Tony. "Right Martino, I think you get the idea. Get back to work."
"Ungh," Tony grunted. He reached up with his big hands and started stripping the sock from Rodriguez's left foot.
About six or seven minutes later Rodriguez announced that he thought the two cops were going to do just fine. Their penalty service would be done before they knew it. "And thanks for the little party to celebrate my promotion guys... s-m-i-l-e..."
Tony and Jason kept their heads down, focused on polishing the shoes, but cast their eyes up, toes in mouth and dicks hard as rock.
Click. Click. Click.
Rodriguez snapped a few pictures.
"Noooopphh... nnnooooppphhh...," Tony and Jason lisped, their tongues laving Rodriguez's strong toes.
"Thanks for the memories guys. I think you're done. Go back to your regular duties. Dismissed."
Tony started to say something, "Bu... Al...uh...."
Rodriguez pointed to the door. "No need to thank me Tony. Dismissed."
"Awwwwwww... fuuuukkkk..." Tony sighed.
Tony and Jason got up and headed to the door, both of them pressing their palms into their crotches, trying to force down their raging hard-ons.
Out in the hallway the two young hairy-chested cops looked at each other like two punks who had just been screwed so hard they didn't know which way was up.
"We gotta get our dicks under control, man, or we're gonna be fucked," Jason said.
"You got that right," Tony replied. "Geeze, I hope he doesn't show those pictures to anyone. We're Al's fuckin' slaves now, dude."
"Dammit," said Jason, twisting his right fist in the palm of his left hand, flexing the sinewy muscles of his hairy forearms, his biceps threatening to rip the seams of his short sleeves.
Tony looked at the cheap watch Tom still made him wear. "I gotta go finish off the moutain of fuckin' paperwork on my desk. See ya."
"Yeah, see ya."
By 6:00pm, Tony was doing leg curls at the gym. Pete finally arrived. He came up behind Tony dropped to one knee at the prone cop's side and put a hand on the back of one of Tony's large muscular thighs. Pete gently squeezed as his thick fingers and meaty palm slid up the outside, over the top, and down to the the cop's sensitive inner thigh, then doubled back. His fingers tickled the dense coating of short soft black hairs that made Tony's tan look even darker.
"Hunh!" Tony gasped.
"Howdy," Pete said. "Lookin' good guy. How's it goin'?"
Tony let his legs relax. "Hey Pete... where've you been? Didn't see ya when I came in."
"I got tied up at work. There's always somethin' that seems it can't wait 'till tomorrow."
"Know what ya mean, buddy. I had a hell of a day," Tony replied. "Been here long already?" Pete asked.
"About a half hour. Did a stint on the treadmill to warm up. Just gettin' started with the weights really. Go warm up and then join me at the benches."
"Will do, see ya in a bit."
Round about a half hour later and Tony was holding Pete's feet down while Pete did a few sets of ab crunches, his warm breath repeatedly filling Tony's nostrils on the up-swing. Tony looked at the solid chest, maybe even bigger than his, as it came forward then back, forward then back. On Monday, Tony had filled Pete in on what happened to Jason over the weekend. Tony left out a lot of the details. Straight guys like himself don't talk about that kind of shit. The picture he gave Pete was one in which he had been forced to do all sorts of kinky stuff, but tried to keep it to a minimum and definitely didn't enjoy it. It didn't really matter. Pete could see that Tony was getting pretty hot and bothered as he relayed the events and it didn't take much imagination for Pete to see beyond Tony's rather dumb and transparent descriptions.
Today Tony told Pete about the fight with Jason in the morning and not getting the promotion.
'What, neither of ya?" Pete asked.
"No... went to Rodriguez... motherfucker."
"MAN, that sucks Tony. Sorry big guy. Shit! Maybe somethin' else will come up soon, huh?"
"Nope. Nothin' on the horizon," Tony said. "And anyway, because of the fight and all, I think my chances of gettin' any kind of promotion have slimmed down."
"What about Jason though? Sounds like he's in the same mud-hole."
"Yeah, he's in there with me. We're both in it up to our necks. A couple 'a pigs in shit... good and stuck. Goin' nowhere."
"Yeah guy, it sure sounds it... good and stuck, indeed. At least, he's in the stink with ya, huh?" Pete lay back on the floor. He had a picture of himself tying Tony up in his backyard, packing his shorts with clay, but leaving his dickhead exposed. Then he'd leave him out in the hot summer sun until the clay around his crotch was good and baked. "Kind of a mud-brick chastity belt," he mused to himself. "Wonder if that'd really work?" He liked the cute stupid look he imagined on Tony's face as the cop looked down his immobilized muscle-bound body and felt the clay slowly hardening around his thick shaft and big hairy nuts... "Naaahh, he'd just get sunburned and then he'd be no fun to play with," Pete concluded.
Pete looked up. "Well, no matter what else, guy, at least your problem with Jason is more or less solved."
"Yeah, man, thanks to you. Your were right about Rick and Tom's reaction. I owe ya one."
Pete sat up and tapped his fist into Tony's shoulder. "I'm keeping a tab, stud. Ha ha. Meanwhile, what about Rick and Tom? What're you gonna do about them?"
"Fuck Pete, I don't know. What can I do?"
"Well, how about, for starters, invitin' me over for a beer on Friday after we work-out, ya dumb hunk of Italian beefcake."
Tony gave a boyish smile and then quickly frowned. "I'll have to see if I can get permission," he said feeling stupid and cheesed off.
"Fuck that, guy. I say we just show up. What the fuck are they gonna do? Show 'em you're the man."
"Hmmm... you were right before, Pete. I suppose I should just listen to what you say. Yeah, okay, Friday night pal. You and me are gettin' together for beers at my place. You're on. Fuck those bastards!"
"Fuck yeah! That's the way Tony. I won't steer ya wrong. You just do what I say. Relax and let me do the thinkin' and I'll get ya right where you need to be."
Tony laughed. He wasn't entirely sure what Pete meant, but Pete definitely seemed to be a smart guy. No wonder he managed a big construction company. "You think and I'll do, Pete. We'll get these two broncs roped and saddled, yeehaw!"
Pete grinned and tapped the back of his fingers on Tony's left pec. Tony felt his nipples stiffening against the tight cotton tee-shirt. "Good boy, Tony. Now whatta ya say we hit the free-weights?"
"You're on, Pete!" Tony said loudly as the two guys jumped up and Tony faked a right jab to Pete's own bulging pecs. Pete laughed, playfully threw his arm around Tony's thick neck and pulled the cop's head down to his chest, sliding it quickly over towards his right armpit. He rapped his knuckles on the top of Tony's head while Tony lowered his arms and giggled at the horseplay. "Euuwweee! Smell that pit Tonster?" "Yeah, you got fuckin' smelly-ass pits," Tony said, laughing as he snapped his head free. "Hey, after all I've helped you, you better believe you're gonna be spending some time gettin' real friendly with my studly pits!" Pete said as he charged over to the weight-benches. "Sure... in your dreams... 'Pete-ster'!" Tony said as he chased after his workout buddy. So far as Pete could tell, Tony was unaware of the large wet spot on the front of those undersized gym shorts he wears. Pete looked down at his own crotch and noticed he also had a sticky dark stain. He chuckled to himself. "Yeah, you tasty-lookin' musclehead cop... you're commin' along nicely."