Date: Thu, 20 Nov 2003 02:55:51 -0500
From: Garth Wells <garth09@ibm.net>
Subject: Sunday Story (Hot Man For You To Use: Mitch Conrack's Story)

When he awoke the next afternoon, his body throbbed with the pain of the
whipping but he still had his constant hard-on. Garth came in to send him
on to his usual routine of work-outs with the other dancers. But this
time was different. Garth didn't hand him his aphrodisiac drugged protein
drink. It wasn't necessary anymore. He still got the nightly pill to keep
his balls churning out the huge amounts of cum necessary to keep the
clubs members happy, but he man had been reduced to a muscle-bound sex
slave with a constant, dripping erection without any added inducements.
His sex drive had been altered permanently. Ultimately, he wouldn't need
the sex drug either - his body would change physically to match his sex
drive. As for Wolf, Garth bided his time and spent a much of his time,
befriending the redneck guard to keep him under control.

Wade had let Mitch's body hair grow back, but when it was still just
stubble, he rented the big dancer to a club member in the Hollywood Hills
for a private party.

Garth and Wolf accompanied him to the mansion. He had been given his old
worn cutoffs to wear during the drive to the party, but they hardly fit
him anymore. His body was so much bigger from the daily work-outs at the
club's gym that he could only fasten the bottom three buttons of the
501's. His twelve-inch erection was half-exposed above the partially
opened fly, and his muscular butt broke the center seam, exposing his
ass-hole to public view. He only hoped the car wouldn't be stopped by the
LAPD during the drive.

Mitch sat in the front seat of the big Lincoln, between the two uniformed
guards. Garth was driving but used his right hand to continually massage
Mitch's hard-dick head. Wolf amused himself by fingering the stripper's
exposed ass-hole.

Mitch hadn't been out of the club since the body-building contest, and he
didn't want to be arrested now for public indecency, no matter how horny
he was. Garth was driving much too fast the on long winding road up the
Hollywood Hills. Hell, Mitch thought, he wants us to get stopped by the
police.

Sure enough, a motorcycle cop pulled them over at a bend in the road.
Garth lowered the tinted window on the driver's side of the Lincoln as
the helmeted cop sauntered up to the car.

He looked like a carbon copy of the big guard behind the wheel, except he
wore a bushy black mustache. He had the same hulking body, straining the
seams of his LAPD uniform, and the same cold, piercing, gray eyes.

"Looks like you got another hot one under your care, brother Garth -- you
delivering the 'boy' to a private party?" The cop said, staring at
Mitch's near naked body. The cop's eyes were riveted on the huge cock
sticking out of the open waist of the man's tight cutoffs.

"Yeah, man, and his tight ass-hole matches his big dick and hot mouth."
Garth replied as he used the thumb and fingers of his right hand to pinch
Mitch's cheeks together forcing the stripper's sensual mouth into an "O".

"And he's an ex-marine and ex-copper too." He added, peaking his
brother's interest even more.

"Get the big fucker out of the car, then, and let me see the rest of
him." the cop said in a hot, breathy voice. I think he needs a lesson for
disgracing the corps and the police.

Suddenly, Mitch knew this had all been pre-arranged. He asked in
disbelief. "He's your brother, Garth?"

"Shut your fucking pie-hole, SLAVE!" Garth yelled, and slapped Mitch's
shocked face, hard.

Wolf opened the passenger side door and slid out pulling Mitch with him.
Mitch assumed an "at-ease" military position in front of the cop, legs
spread, but with his hands locked behind his neck instead of his back. He
had learned what was expected of him.

Garth's LAPD brother circled Mitch a couple of times and then reached for
his baton and used it to rip the hunk's cutoffs open, pushing them down
to his thighs. Twelve-inches of hard, thickly veined cock, freed from the
denim shorts, and stood out at a forty-five degree angle from his stubble
covered groin.

"Whoa, he IS something special," the cop said to Garth and Wolf, his eyes
never leaving Mitch's big cock and balls.

"Why don't you take him for a little walk back in the bushes and check
him out more thoroughly?" Garth told his brother. "Hell, he's not due to
be delivered to the client for another half-an-hour. Take your time with
him, but don't leave any marks. The client wouldn't like that, but if the
fucker cums a couple 'a times while your 'inspecting' his hunky body, it
won't matter. Those oversized low-hangers bumping against his thighs are
fully charged and loaded with rich, sticky man-juice. He'll still be able
to shoot a dozen more loads for the client and his party-guests tonight.
Hell, he can go longer than the Eveready bunny."

Wolf and the cop laughed at Garth's joke, while Mitch just looked
embarrassed. Yes, he could still feel embarrassed after all he'd been
through. The other cops and marines who had used him at the club were
older the he. This cop was younger.

The cop didn't think twice about his brother's generous offer. For the
next half-an-hour he would have a high priced male-stripper, a male whore
in his control, all to himself -- for free! He pressed the end of his
baton against Mitch's bare ass, forcing the man to walk in front of him
down a trail beside the turn-off. Mitch was hobbled by the cutoffs
stretched around his thighs, but he kept on moving. His hard cock swung
up and down with every step, and the cop kept goosing him with his club,
using the dancer's ass-crack as his target.

"You know what this is don't you fucker," the cop said, "It's a standard
police baton. The kind used to control scum like you. Feel it tickling
your ass-hole. Well it can do a lot more than tickle." The cop laughed.

After a five minute walk, the cop teasing Mitch's ass-hole all the way,
the two men entered a clearing hidden from the public road by a grove of
trees. The cop ordered Mitch to take off his ragged cutoffs. Mitch bent
over to pull them down off his thighs, raising one leg and then the other
to remove them from his bare feet. He gave the cop a really good look at
his shaved ass-hole. He had learned his male-stripper craft very well at
the club. He just didn't understand why he way applying it to this
situation. He wasn't in the club - he wasn't being paid to do this. But
somehow, intuitively, he knew he had to do it.

He dropped the cutoffs on the dirt path and stood up, facing the cop. He
spread his legs, wide, and placed his hands behind his head, showing off
his bulging biceps and broad shoulders. His dick stood out above his low
hangers - dripping precum.

"Down on your knees in the dirt, ass-hole, and 'entertain' me real good!"
the cop shouted at the naked hunk.

Mitch did as instructed. He knelt, keeping his hands behind his head, and
his mouth level with the cop's bulging crotch. It didn't take long for
Garth's brother to unzip his uniform pants, push them down his hairy
thighs and shove his dripping thick dick deep into Mitch's throat. The
brute shot his first load almost immediately, making the male-stripper,
"whore", kneeling before him swallow every drop of it.

The cop, breathing hard from his orgasm, but still hard and horny,
ordered Mitch to "hug" a nearby tree-trunk with his muscular arms --
bending over, spreading his legs, wide, until his butt-cheeks were also
spread to reveal his tight little ass-hole.

Mitch couldn't see what was happening behind him, but he could feel the
hard pressure of a fleshy, wet cock-head pressing against his rectum. He
tried to relax as the head and shaft of the cop's hard dick was forced
into his anus.

Mitch groaned, loudly, as the big, foreign object pressed against his
prostrate. The cop gave him a painful "reach-around" as he fucked the
dancer He squeezed the man's hard twelve-incher with his right hand. It
was the roughest stroke-job Mitch had ever received. Even the club
members hadn't been this rough. The cop used his thumb to torture Mitch's
weeping piss-slit as he long dicked the stripper's ass.

Mitch shot two loads of his hot cum over the man's calloused hand by time
the slow-fucking cop had shot his own load up the stripper's ass-hole,
filling Mitch's bowels with heavy, sticky cop-spunk.

The cop rested the full weight of his body on Mitch's back, pressing his
leather jacket against the naked flesh. When his spent dick softened in
the stripper's ass-hole, he pulled it out and told him to pick-up his
cutoffs and hand them over.

He cleaned his dick with them, tore out more of the back-seam and tossed
them to Mitch. "Clean up your dick and ass with them and put them back
on."

Mitch did as he was ordered. His cock was still hard and showed above the
partially open fly and waistband. The denim was sticky with cum and his
ass and balls hung out of the ripped seam, but it was the only clothing
he had for the rest of the trip.

Garth and Wolf were leaning against the Lincoln when Mitch and the cop
reached the car. The four men stood there with Mitch in the middle, his
head bowed in shame.

"Well, baby brother, the stripper's a great piece of ass ain't he?" Garth
said, smiling at the cop. "I don't know if he enjoyed it much, the
strippers at the club are trained to cum whether they enjoy the sex or
not, but it looks like you did."

"Oh, man, it was memorable! What's the chance you get me a pass to the
club and I get to do a repeat performance with the fucker?"

"I can probably arrange that. The manager likes to keep on friendly terms
with the cops. He even pays the dancers' tips for 'friendly' LAPD
officers. What you just got a taste of, costs a couple'a grand for a full
night's 'activity'. And of course, you can do anything you want with him
-- even leave a few temporary marks for that price." Garth said, still
smiling. "And of course, you could always talk to dad about it." The cop
gave Garth a dirty look.

"I'm glad you arranged this little meeting, I never knew what I was
missing. This guy is a better fuck than my girlfriend." The cop said,
still a little coolly to Garth, staring, openly, at the hunky, half-naked
muscle-man he had just fucked. The motorcycle cop gave Mitch a hard slap
on his ass and climbed on his bike and drove off.

"Get in the car, 'boy'!" Garth snarled. "And try not to get any of that
spunk you're covered with on the upholstery." Mitch climbed back into the
middle of the front seat.

Mitch still didn't like being called "boy". Hell, he thought, he was a
thirty-four year old man, but he wasn't in any position to complain. The
fact is he had had a good time getting off with the handsome cop and
wouldn't mind a repeat performance, even if it were rougher next time. In
fact, he wouldn't mind "doing it" with the two guards -- especially
Garth. This was very different from the club experience. He was paid to
what he did there. This time he just did it because he was ordered to.

He had come a long way from his first male-stripper show for men as well
as women at that country club in Texas. Then, he had avoided the men who
wanted to do more than just admire his sexy body. His experience at the
private strip-show for Mafia Don and his goons, had signaled a change in
his attitude toward homosexual behavior, but when it was over, he had
rejected it. Now, after having been lured by money to work for Wade
Jackson, he had learned to perform all kinds of homosexual acts for the
Wade's strip club clients. He had been fed drugs to keep him horny since
he'd arrived at the "club", but that just released his inhibitions. It
didn't explain why he had grown to like sex with men more than with women
-- especially when the men abused him.

All these thoughts filled his mind as the Lincoln drove through the gates
of the estate where he was to perform tonight. He didn't know it but this
was going to be his final degradation.