Date: Wed, 10 Aug 2005 08:39:19 -0700 (PDT)
From: Reflex <reflex012004@yahoo.com>
Subject: 'Trapped Muscle-Cop' Part 6 {reflex} (M^M bd nc reluc)

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 6
By Reflex (reflex012004@yahoo.com)
Copyright 2005

Part 6: Shafted

"Yum!  Look at that!  Tom really did ya up nicely there, Tony." Rick said,
laughing.  "All that sweet syrup all over your scrambled eggs and toast.
Straight from the tap too.  Hmmm, does that make it sap rather than syrup?
No, can't be.  You're the sap... the sap whose gonna chow down on his nice
hot breakfast."

Rick cooked up a hearty breakfast on Saturday morning.  As promised, Tom
added his salty spunk gravy to Tony's plate-full of food for a bit of extra
morning zing.  Tony was so horny, he'd have done anything the guys told him
to with the promise of a bit of relief.  He had lain awake for hours last
night savoring his helplessness in the crafty trap Rick and Tom had
concocted.  He basked in the raunchy stink of the room and the clothes he
was forced to wear, contemplating what his sweaty feet were going to smell
like when he got them out of the sneakers.  He didn't want to have these
feelings.  He was a fucking macho, built, musclestud, whose self-conceived
role was to dominate others.  He was a cop!  Yet all he could do in bed
last night was flex and writhe and sniff his pits while his cock dripped
goo on his belly.

Rick had moved the mirror from the closet to the wall opposite the foot of
the bed.  With the nightlight the guys left on and Tony's head propped up
on pillows, he was in, what for him, was the ultimate trap: being forced to
look endlessly at his muscular hairy arms and legs and abs tightly secured
to the bed, his balls tingling, his strapped up cock twitching.  While he
watched himself, he knew that with each passing minute, all of his savings
were being siphoned from his bank account into Rick's.  The trap was more
and more firmly sealed and he was powerless to do anything about it.
Thinking about this made him so hot all he could do was moan and flex, moan
and flex, until finally he fell asleep.

Currently, however, Tony's wrists were tied behind his back.  His ankles
were likewise tied together with those damn dirty socks.  The pecker-gag in
his mouth kept him from making anything other than muffled grunts.

"I'll take that off ya in a minute so you can eat pig.  Just hold on," Rick
said.

The hot summer sun was already beaming through the kitchen window.

"Looks like it's gonna be another steamy day.  Maybe in more ways than
one!" Rick said, chuckling at his own stupid joke.

He turned to Tom and said "That what you're gonna wear today?"

"Yeah," Tom replied.  "Thought I'd do some work in the yard later."

Tom was dressed in a snug gray cotton t-shirt that had been cut off just
below his pecs.  Along with this he had on a pair of very short gray cotton
gym shorts with some old gym's logo fading just above the hemline of the
left leg.  His feet were encased in his workboots with a pair of socks that
were also gray, but only because they were so dirty.

Rick looked at Tom in that hot little outfit.  The thick coat of
dirty-blond hair running down Tom's chiseled abs into the tufts of crotch
hair peeking out just above the waistband of his shorts gave Rick an idea.
He told Tom to sit down in one of the sturdy wooden chairs at the kitchen
table.  He grabbed that plastic bag with the dirty socks and told Tom to
put his arms on the armrests.  All Rick would say was that he had an idea
that was going to drive Tony crazy.  Tom, always willing to be lead by
Rick, nodded his assent.  Rick started to tightly bind Tom's wrists to the
armwrests.  Then he sock-tied Tom's legs, just above the top of his boots,
to the legs of the chair.  A crossbar connecting the front and back legs of
the chair, prevented the socks from being slipped down and off.

Rick looked over his work.  Tom flexed his muscles, testing the bonds.
Rick grabbed a strand of rope and tied that around Tom's waist, keeping his
back firmly in place against the backrest of the chair.

"Okay bro, ya got me all tied up with these stinkin' socks.  What now?" Tom
asked.  Rick ran to the bedroom and came back with a small bungee cord, the
kind that one would use to strap something onto the back of a bicycle.  He
placed one hook in the waistband of Tom's shorts.  Rick then pulled this
forward and around the vertical wooden support at the end of the left
armrest.  He crossed over to the right armrest, looped the cord, and then
pulled the remaining hook back to Tom's waistband.  Tom's shorts were now
pulled down and out, exposing his pubes and part of his cock.  He wasn't
wearing any underwear and all this getting tied up had made him hard.

Rick unfastened the pecker-gag from Tony's mouth.  Tom couldn't figure out
what Rick was doing, but he was sure it was going to be good.  Two seconds
later and Tom saw the gag being shoved into his own mouth.

"HHHUUMMMPPH!!!!!"

Tony smiled, feeling it was just desserts.

Rick then picked up Tony's breakfast plate and brought it over to Tom, who
suddenly realized what was about to happen.

"UUUUNNNMMMFFFF... UNNNNNMMMFFF... NNNAAAHHHH!!" shouted Tom while he
struggled like a madman to get out of the chair.

"Rick was laughing and laughing as he took a fork and started to scoop the
food down into Tom's shorts.  Three scrambled eggs, a slice of toast, and
Tom's own cum were now gunking up his crotch.  Tom was, of course, already
supplying a big juicy sausage.

Tom pushed out his big pecs and gave Rick a questioning look to which Rick
replied, "Bet that feels nasty, huh?"

Tony laughed with Rick, happy to see Tom suffer.  He watched Tom struggle
against the binds, the blond dude's hairy muscles flexing uselessly as his
fat cock rapidly stiffened.  Rick's hunch was correct.  The sight of Tom
bound and gagged got Tony's juices stirring.  The cop might love
worshipping his own muscles, but he had a weakness for other hairy
muscle-guys like himself.  Tony was so busy laughing at Tom's predicament,
he hadn't noticed the tent in his own shorts or the tingle in his balls.
He stopped laughing, however, when Rick pulled him over in front of Tom,
pushed him down on his knees and said, "Eat your breakfast, muscleboy!"

"NO... Rick, no... noooummmmffff."

Rick held Tony's head down in Tom's shorts, ordering him to clean up every
last drop.  Tony's nose and lips were pressed into the steaming breakfast.
After Rick gave him a firm slap on his butt, he tentatively started to lick
the eggs into his mouth.  He had to pull them free of Tom's pubes with his
lips.  The sensation of having his pubes licked and sucked made Tom squirm.
He dropped his head back.  The skunkiness of the whole scene, Tom's
odiferous pubes, and his fat handsome cock, sent waves of horniness into
each guy's brain and heavy balls.

Rick rubbed his own hard dick through his jeans and took more photos of the
two guys.  He then gently tucked his fingers under the waistband of Tony's
shorts and slowly pulled them down.  Rick ran his palms over Tony's firm
hairy melon-shaped butt-cheeks, lightly massaging and tickling.  The
fingertips of his left hand started to move down Tony's asscrack, stopping
to scratch around the cop's tight little portal.  Tony moaned and squirmed.

With the fingers of his right hand, Rick scooped up some Crisco from the
can on the table.  He started rubbing that around Tony's now quivering
asslips.  Tony moaned again and figured he was in for another fingering.
For some reason, that made his cock twitch a bit.  But then the hands
stopped.  Tony's attention returned to his nasty breakfast, his tongue
lapping egg and cum off Tom's pulsing dick.

"Man, what the fuck?!  I am fuckin' lickin' greasy scrambled eggs off
another guys dick.  Sheeeesh!  Fuckin' gungy, man," Tony thought to himself
as he unwittingly developed his skills a professional dick-lapper.

Suddenly, the horny cop felt something at his ass again.  It felt bigger
than Rick's fingers and was pushing hard against his hole.

Tony jerked up with egg on his face and looked back.

Rick was standing behind him smiling, his right hand on the blunt end of a
Crisco'ed rubber dildo.  The bulbous head of that little dildo was being
slowly corkscrewed into Tony's ass.

"How's that feel, cop?  Nice?" Rick asked with a smirk across his face.  He
pushed harder and screwed the head of the dildo past Tony's sphincter.

Tony let out a loud yelp.  "Aaaahhhhh noooooo... g... get that thing outta
me!" he yelled.

Rick landed a loud slap on Tony's hard buns.  "Calm down Tony.  This little
toy has a job to do.  It's gonna open you up a bit... start the whole
process of training the muscles in this hot ass of yours.  You're about to
have your butthole turned into a hot hungry mancunt.  Enjoy, my friend!"
Rick laughed.

Tony protested again and made a move to raise himself.  Rick simply reached
over and pushed his head back down into Tom's shorts.  In a firm voice he
told Tony "If you don't lick up every last bit of that breakfast and suck
the cum out of Tom's rod, I'm gonna stick a much longer and fatter one of
these up your ass with no lube.  Got it?"

Tony was horrified and started to whine, but one more slap on his ass from
Rick sent him back to work on his breakfast.  He whimpered, grunted,
yelled, and pleaded for Rick not to do it, to please not turn him into a
pussy.  All to no avail.  For the next half hour, Tony was on his knees,
his hands and ankles tied, his face in Tom's sticky crotch, while Rick
gently massaged the stud's back and buttcheeks with his left hand, and with
his right, he sloooowwwly screwed that dildo in and out.  While twisting
and pushing the devilish device, Rick repeatedly called Tony a hairy-assed
musclehead pussyboy.  Telling him he was popping his studboy cherry and
there was no going back.

"When I'm done with you Tony, this fine tight hole of yours is gonna drive
you nuts with the need for something big and firm shoved up inside to
soothe the tingling itch.  There ain't nothin' you can do about it, stud.
From now on, you're not gonna be happy unless there is some guy stuffing
your butthole... oooops... your PUSSY, with his rod.  No chick is gonna do
it for you.  Heh heh!" chortled Rick.  "Don't worry though.  Me and
Tom... we'll keep you good and satisfied.  I don't think you've got a lot
of brains, but we will make sure to fuck whatever's there right on out.
From now on, cock is all you are gonna be thinking about... how hard yours
is, how much you wanna lick another guys, and how badly you need one stuck
up your sweet stud-pussy!"

Tom meanwhile, stared on in amazement.  The whole scene had him squirming
with lust.  Tony's tongue on his dick felt great, but damn he wanted to
pork his new workout buddy.

After the initial discomfort, Tony had started to grind his ass a bit.  He
felt himself unable to keep from clenching his sphincter.  He was so
humiliated--eating cum-coated scrambled eggs from another guy's pubes while
his butthole got plowed with a dildo like he was some two-dollar whore.
And to make matters worse, the blasted thing kept hitting something inside
him that felt so good.

Rick was now himself hard as steel.  He could see in Tony's movements the
early signs of sweet surrender.  This was his dream, two handsome hairy
muscleboys under his control.  Tom, of course, thought he was still on the
inside.  To some extent he was, and to some extent, he had never been on
the inside.  Rick, in any case, had other plans.

Tony had started moaning.  He had Tom's cock in his mouth and was lapping
and sucking like a baby on a teat.  Tom was moaning in sync and trying to
lift his hips up to fuck Tony's mouth.  All of a sudden he hollered around
the pecker-gag and started spewing his jism into Tony's shocked mouth.
Rick put one hand on the back of Tony's head pushing down.  Tony had no
choice but to swallow cum for the second time in his life, gurgling and
grunting as he did.

"Good boy," Rick coaxed him.  "Yeah, get all that man juice down your
throat.  It's gonna help you keep those muscles firm and add a nice glossy
sheen to your manly coat of hair.  Heh heh..."

The sound of Tom's sighs, the taste of the cum in his mouth, and the
fiendish dildo diddling his ass... oh jeeeezze, his pussy... had Tony
primed to fire his own load of stud sauce into the front of his shorts.
Too bad for him though, that leather strap so tightly tied all up and down
his fat juicy cock, prevented the blast of relief.  Instead, Tony just
dripped thick globs of cream, his bulbous glans now even more sensitive
than before, his rod still as stiff as it could be.  Rick untied to two
guys, winking at Tom, as if he'd been a big help in bringing Tony down
another peg.

"Okay guys, I'm going out for a while.  When I get back, I wanna see that
yard in tip-top shape," Rick said.

Tom let out a holler and said "You bet boss!  Come'on Tone... we got a yard
to tidy."

Tony's head was spinning.  He was completely loose for the first time in a
couple days.  He was about to go out into his own yard to trim the grass,
pull weeds, the usual weekend garden chores, like nothing was going on.
What he really couldn't wrap his mind around was that Rick was going out,
leaving only Tom to try to control him.  Were they nuts?  Didn't they think
he was going to try to get out of this situation?  Physically, Tom was a
near match to Tony, but if the cop could surprise him in some way, he might
get the upper hand.

Tony turned to Tom and told him the mower was in the garage and that they
best get a move on before it got too hot outside.  Rick smiled at the two
and then hopped in his truck and took off.

Tom and Tony headed outside.  The air was humid.  The yard smelled sweet
and musky.  In the process of dragging out the lawnmower, Tony broke a
slight sweat.  His pit odor wafted up to his nostrils and he inhaled the
rich pungent scent.  He leaned his head down to sniff his pits.  He looked
himself over, packed into that tight filthy T-shirt, the restrictive little
shorts, and the dirty old sneakers.  He boned up again.

As Tom brought out a spade and a rake and some plastic garbage bags, he saw
Tony lost in a trance of his own man stink.  He walked up behind the
big-muscled Italian stud and started to softly run his hands up Tony's
arms.  He licked the back of Tony's neck.

"Yeah, you like that stud, don't ya," Tom said.

Tony watched Tom's hands caress his forearms, then move up to his biceps.
He sighed quietly.

"You're stinkin' up real good Tony.  Just wait till you finish mowin' the
lawn.  Man are you gonna be ripe.  An' me too.  Heck, I got all that grease
from your breakfast soaked into the front of my shorts," cooed Tom.  As he
said this, he moved his left arm up from behind Tony and started to slide
his hairy blond forearm back and forth across Tony's lips.  Tom's right
hand moved around Tony's waist and down to his dick.  He started running
his thumb across the top of Tony's fat cock cap.

"Why don't you just have a little lick there stud.  Coat my arm with your
spit.  Get my arms all nice and sticky... Shit, yeah... that's
it... ooooohhh yeaaahhh...," Tom whispered.

Tony had opened his mouth and was not basting Tom's muscular arm with his
tongue while Tom worked the tip of his dick, bringing him right to the
edge.  Once again Tony's brain was emptied of all thoughts beyond hairy
muscles and his itchy cock.  Tom worked him this way for a little under ten
minutes and then switched arms, bringing up his right arm and lowering his
left hand down to Tony's leaking knob.  Tom's own stiff rod softly rubbed
up and down Tony's butt cleft, encased in those tight white gym shorts.
Tony stood still, his tongue worshipping Tom's muscular arms, his own
muscle-packed arms hanging useless at his sides.

Tom finally backed away.  "Thanks buddy, that felt great.  You're the best,
man.  Let's get this yard taken care of," Tom said.  With that, he patted
Tony on the ass and walked across the yard to start a bit of pruning.

Tony stood still for a second, muttering to himself, "What the fuck just
happened?"  He pulled the cord on the lawnmower to rev up the engine and
started to trim the grass.

While Tom swept the patio and then dug up weeds around the back yard, Tony
mowed the lawn.  He dumped the clippings in a plastic trash bag and put it
near the kitchen door, to go out to the street for pick-up on Monday
morning.  All the while he was working, he tried to think of a plan for
overtaking Tom and getting back control of his life.  Tom, meanwhile, kept
up a one-man dialog about a range of things from the heat to cars, video
games, and gym routines.  He threw in a few asides about various
rambunctious nights on the town he'd had sometime not too long ago.  He
kept up a colloquial banter, addressing Tony as "buddy" or "Tone" like the
two had known each other for years.  Truth be told, Tony began to feel like
he and Tom shared a lot of interests and he found himself getting hooked
into conversations to the distraction of his plans for getting free.
Sometimes, he thought he kind of liked Tom.  Rick was flat out trouble, but
Tom seemed to be a guy he might be able to do business with.  He just
needed to get Tom on his side, to drive a wedge between he and Rick.  The
question was how.

Tom suggested that when they were finished with the yard work, they make
themselves some iced tea and then head downstairs for a good workout before
showering.  Tony agreed this was a good idea.  He had realized that there
was not much he could do to alter his situation while in the open.  Any
move on Tom might look strange to the neighbors and though Tony wanted
help, he didn't want to have to explain what had gone on the past couple
days.  He reckoned that would be way too embarrassing.  He had to get
Tom... and Rick, secured without attracting attention.  Once he was able to
clean up the mess they made and get his hands on the videos and photos,
then and only then would he be in a position to call his buddies at the
station without risk of any incriminating and humiliating evidence.  When
he finished the backyard, Tony moved out front.  As he worked, he noticed a
few looks from neighbors.  A couple of cute college girls passed by on
their bicycles and whistled, causing Tony to blush for a minute before
puffing out his chest and griping the mower like he was taming a wild
beast.  He smiled.  "Damn, I'm a hot stud, whooohh yeah!"


Two hours later, the hedges had been pruned, the lawn neatly mowed, weeds
had been pulled from the flowerbeds, and the front porch and back patio had
been swept of dirt and leaves.  The yard looked better than it had in some
time.  Tony smiled as Tom showed him what he had got done.

"Look's great don't it Tone?" Tom said.

With that, Tom tapped the back of his hand on Tony's left pec and said,
"Race ya downstairs for a workout.  Last one down there has to spot!"  Off
he ran.  Tony ran after him, laughing.  "No way, dude, you're spottin for
ME!" he shouted.  Tom had gotten the head start though and beat Tony
through the kitchen door.  The two nearly tumbled over each other on the
stairs, but Tom managed to get his ass on the weight bench first.

"Yeah, well, we'll see how much you can lift.  No way's it gonna be more
than me," Tony chuckled as he got in place at the head of the bench. He
loaded up the weights on each end of the bar and challenged Tom to do 5
reps without assistance.  Tom rose to the challenge.
"Dude... I... will... put... you... to... shame!  Ummphh."

As Tom started lifting, Tony noticed all the rope lying around on the
floor.  He squatted, keeping up a teasing dialog with Tom to distract him
from what he was doing.

In a flash, while Tom had the weight bar raised, Tony circled his right
wrist with the rope and lashed it to the bar with a knot.

"HEY!" Tom shouted.

A second later and Tony had got the second piece of rope tied around Tom's
left wrist and the weight bar.  Tom lowered the bar quickly and tried to
jerk himself up.  Tony kept tying the rope.  He went back to the right
wrist and tied the dangling coils around again, tighter, making several
knots.  He repeated this process on the left.

Tom's wrists were now tied to a couple hundred pounds of weight.  Tony ran
to the bottom of the bench and began to rope up Tom's ankles.  The sweating
blond construction worker kicked and laughed.

"Cut that out!  Untie me this minute!  You hear me?" he shouted.

Tony just laughed back and said, "It's your turn now.  You are stuck dude.
How do ya like it?"

Tom lifted his head and looked at Tony questioningly.  Tony stepped up to
the side of the bench and ran his hand over Tom's rapidly hardening cock.

"You like those ropes Tom?  Your dick sure says you do!  Now, you just stay
right there.  I have some business to take care of upstairs on the
computer.  Heh heh.  Your fun is over, pal!"

Tony raced up the stairs to the little study, grabbed the mouse and opened
up the internet.  He went straight to his bank's website to stop the flow
of funds to Rick.  He entered in his client ID, his password
and... nothing.  The login box cam right back up saying incorrect password.
He tried several more times with no luck.

"Those fuckers must'a changed my fuckin' password.  Dammit!!!"

Then he saw the little sentence below, reading "Forgot your password?"  He
clicked on it and was informed that if he typed in his account number and
the e-mail address with which he set up the online account, his password
would be instantly e-mailed to him.

"Ha ha.  Gotcha fuckers!" he grinned.

Tony typed in his e-mail address, hit "send," and waited.  The box bounced
back.  "Incorrect information."  He pulled open his file cabinet, checked
his account number and typed that in again with his e-mail address.  Back
again came the empty box and the notice of incorrect information.

"What the f....?  No freakin' way.  That son of a bitch changed the e-mail
address on the account!  SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!" Tony cursed.  "Well," he
pondered, "that information can be obtained from that bastard downstairs."

Tony turned his attention to getting rid of any videos and photos he could
find.  He looked around the room for the camera and the cam-corder, but
didn't see either.  He ran into the bedroom to check there, but saw no sign
of the equipment.  He went back to the study and tried to open the drawers
in his little desk.  They were locked!  He rummaged around looking for the
key to the desk locks, but couldn't find it.  Now severely piqued, he ran
out to the garage and got a hammer, planning to pry or bust the drawers
open.  After several hard pulls and a lot of grunting he had the front of
all the drawers ripped off from the desk.  As the contents of the drawers
spilled out onto the floor, he searched for the camera equipment.  Nothing.
He had now ruined his desk without finding anything.

Madder than ever now, he brought up an internet search engine and looked
for the website the guys had shown him.  To his horror, he found that
easily enough!  A snappy looking entry page splashed across his computer
screen with the title "Trapped Muscle-Cop" followed below with legal
disclaimers and "Enter" and "Exit" buttons.  To the side was a large
crystal-clear black and white image of him tied to that big chair in the
warehouse.  Behind everything was a blue wallpaper pattern of handcuffs.

"Oh jeeeeezzzze..." Tony whimpered.

He clicked on "Enter" and arrived at the home page, where he saw more
pictures of himself, some information about the site detailing the various
things it offered from pictures and video clips to a members forum and
web-cams.  There was a button to join and a button for a preview tour.
Tony clicked on the preview tour, which brought up a new smaller window
with a still photo and a teasing textual description.  He continued through
a couple more such photos and arrived at a window with stills from some of
the video clips.  The next window advertised the daily web-cam.  The last
window listed the forum for members to write in with suggestions, comment
on the site, gossip, share fantasies, etc., with the suggestion of a shop
in the future selling DVDs, calendars, articles of Tony's clothing...  When
Tony pressed the "Continue" button, he arrived at the application to join.

"Yeah, right, like I'm joining this fuckin' website.  I'm the fuckin' star
for cryin' out loud!  Holy fuckin' shit.  DAMMIT!!!"

Tony pounded on his desk.  He got up and ran downstairs.

To be continued.