Date: Sat, 14 Jan 2006 07:22:56 -0800 (PST)
From: Reflex <reflex012004@yahoo.com>
Subject: Trapped Muscle-Cop Part 15 {Reflex} (M^M bd nc reluc humil)

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."