Date: Thu, 16 Feb 2006 10:54:41 -0800 (PST)
From: Reflex <reflex012004@yahoo.com>
Subject: Trapped Muscle-Cop Part 17 {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 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.