Good Cop Bad Cop

Red and blue lights flashed in my rear-view mirror. "Shit." My heart rate quickened. I sat up straight and put both hands on the wheel. I had been speeding. Worse than that, I had also been drinking. I couldn't believe it. There is usually no one out this late on this road. The reason I even drive his road is because I like the feeling of having it to myself. I hit the steering wheel. "Shit."

I pulled over on the side of the road. It was pitch black. No one else was out. I was on my way home from a party. The alcohol was mixed in with a Sonic slushie in a big Sonic Styrofoam cup. I quickly tried to find a place to hide the cup. I couldn't think of anywhere better to hide it than under the passenger seat where it would spill and make a huge mess.

I tried to place it under the seat without it spilling but it felt pointless. When I sat back up, there was a tap tap at my window. At first, all I saw was a large fist knocking at the window. The officer looked like he could pick me up with just one hand.

The cold air flooded in as I rolled down the window. "Hello, Officer."

From this angle, I couldn't make out the cop's face, but I could easily make out the ample gut, beefy arms, and the salt and pepper chest hair poking out at the top of his shirt. He looked like a rugby player. The officer's muscles bulged out the sleeves of his shirt. The name on his badge read Officer Bentley. He towered over my blue Mustang, one elbow resting on the hood as he ducked down to talk. He smelled like a mix of black coffee and cigar smoke.

"License and registration."

I didn't want him to smell the alcohol whenever I spoke, so I just nodded and mumbled, "Yes, sir," underneath my breath. I handed the officer my license. This is the part when they would see the last name and wonder if there is any relation to Mayor Langston. I waited for the question -- so I could namedrop my uncle and get out of this. My uncle could always get me out of these messes, but he tended to treat me like a little bitch any time it happened. He kept threatening not to get involved.

I couldn't read Officer Bentley's face as he looked over my license. His expression was flat. I noticed that the other cop was sitting on the hood of their squad car. His arms were crossed. Even sitting on the hood of the car I could tell he was tall.

"So, Travis, have you been drinking?"

I looked at Officer Bentley. "No, sir."

Officer Bentley's nostrils flared. There was a slight twinge of a smile, but his voice still came out demanding and threatening as if he was angry at something. "I need you to step out of the car."

"Oh, sorry. There must be some mistake. My uncle is Mayor Langston."

"I don't care who your uncle is. Please step out of the car."

Shit.

We were on a long country road that hugged the railway tracks on one side and woods on the other. There was no other car in either direction. The road disappeared into pitch black. The rows of trees rustled in the wind. I loved to speed down this road because the road was almost always empty, no streetlights, or anyone to bother you.

I stepped out of the car. The air was cold, and even chillier when the wind blew.

"Put your hands on the roof of your car."

I gulped.

Officer Bentley, said, "I'm going to pat you down, while officer Gregson searches your car."

"Can I call my uncle?"

Officer Bentley laughed. Then held my face as he whispered in my ear. "Yeah. When we're done searching you, then you can call your uncle."

He padded my chest and shorts. He even padded up my bare arms and legs. That didn't make sense to me, but at least his hands were warm on my arms and legs.

I started to think about how I would call my uncle and get this all cleared up. He would tell these two to back off. They would get a stern talking to by their supervisor. Maybe even some sort of demerit. I wish I could see their faces when they got in trouble.

I was distracted when Officer Bentley started searching under my shorts, squeezing my thighs. Within seconds, his thumb was inches from my balls. My whole body tensed. Shit. I forgot I wasn't wearing underwear. That's another reason I was so cold.

Officer Bentley's thumb was suspiciously close to my dick and balls. Officer Gregson pulled out the cup from underneath the seat. "I think we got something here." He slammed the Sonic cup on the on the roof of the car.

"I see we got a troublemaker here." Officer Bentley laughed.

"Looks like it," Officer Gregson responded with a wink. "Make sure to check him real good. Don't want him trying pull another fast one on us."

Officer Bentley squeezed my thighs, "Are you gonna try to pull another fast one on us?"

"No, sir."

"You're gonna be a good boy?"

"What?"

"You better behave you little faggot."

I squirmed. "You can't call me that."

He pushed my head against the roof the Mustang. "Listen, boy, you don't get to decide what we call you."

I was confused. Did cops really talk like this? Is this really the procedure?

"Now, are you going to behave? Say yes sir."

I mumbled, "Yes sir."

"Good boy."

He searched me again, firmly this time, as if my leg was a baseball bat and he had to get a proper grip. He continued to raise his hands all the way up and up my leg. I didn't know what to do. Then I felt his thumb on my butt cheeks and his finger grazing the hair on my balls. Was this really happening? This had to stop.

"Can I please call my uncle?" I didn't know what else to say or do.

"You want to call your uncle?"

"Yes please."

The officers shared glances. Officer Gregson, who had kinder eyes and quieter way about him, handed my phone to me.

I heard my uncle pick up. "Why is it that you're calling me at this hour? Do you know what time it is?"

"But uncle--"

Right then, Officer Bentley reached his hand up my shorts and grabbed my balls. I let out a feminine gasp. I froze. I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't talk. "Uh... uh."

My uncle sounded annoyed. "Travis... Travis!?"

Officer Bentley tugged my balls, rolled them around in his grip. He said, "Go on, Travis. Tell your uncle about how you've been a naughty boy."

"Uncle, please. I need your help. These two officers pulled me over. Ummm... they ... one of them is grabbing my balls."

"Travis. I told you what would happen if you got in trouble again. I can't keep bailing you out. It looks bad on me. You know I have an election coming up. Give the phone to one of the officers."

"But Uncle?"

Officer Gregson took the phone. "Yes, sir. Drinking and speeding sir. Yes, sir. Understood." Officer Gregson shook his head at Bentley. "Understood sir." He hung up.

My heart couldn't have dropped any harder or faster. I felt defeated, doomed even.

Officer Bentley laughed. "Looks like your uncle isn't helping you out this time."

"I don't..." I couldn't believe it. My Uncle was really leaving me with these two cops who literally have me by the balls. Was this really happening? Did this officer really get to grab me by the balls and get away with it? Was I really about to be arrested for drinking and driving? Was this really going to go on my record? This had to be a nightmare.

Officer Bentley tugged my balls and I whimpered. "Look. If you do what we say this could all be over soon."

I nodded.

He let go of my balls and licked his fingers. "I need to make sure you're not hiding anything."

I didn't know what that meant. Where else hasn't he searched? Then I felt a finger graze my hole.

Oh no no no no no.

I stood on my toes, wiggled, trying to get away. He started applying pressure, when he said, "I think this boy is hiding something."

"No, sir, I promise, I'm not."

"Then why are you trying to squirm away."

"I just feel uncomfortable. I've never... this isn't..." I couldn't get out the words.

This can't be happening. Surely there are checks and balances in place so that this doesn't happen? They must have a dash cam or even body cameras. I swallowed my fear in a Hail Mary. "Sir. Sir. I would like to know my rights."

Officer Bentley and Gregson giggled. "Your rights?"

"Here are your rights." And in one swift motion, I felt his big fingers grab my shorts and jerked them down so that they landed around my ankles. I could feel the cold air on my ass and legs. My dick squished against the window.

"Please don't--" I turned to look at him, and when I did, my hand moved off the roof by a hair, only for a second. He shouted in my ear. "Hands on the roof!" He shoved my head down and hit the roof with a thud. I was laying uncomfortably with my cheek up against the cold, dirty metal roof, and all I could think was, no no no no no no. He leaned over to stretch my arms as far as possible. I could feel his bulge against my back, his walkie-talkie on my shoulder.

I was suddenly grateful there was no one else on the road. I was exposed for anyone passerby to see. But there was no one. We were alone and the officers knew it.

Then I met eyes with Officer Gregson, who could see tears well in my eyes. Then I heard him speak, "Officer Bentley."

I could hear Officer Gregson's steps as he walked behind me. Officer Gregson and Officer Bentley were whispering. I tried to make out some of the words, "...that's enough... too much... let me..."

I could not see him because I was facing the front of the car with my cheek pressed to the roof of the car. I don't think I have ever been this exposed. My ass pushed out for them to see. And maybe it was the cool breeze, or I don't know what, but I felt my penis start to harden, pushing against the hard surface of the window. I couldn't believe it. I tried to imagine what I must look like to them-- a nearly naked blond man wearing only a shirt, ass raised in the cold wind, head on the roof of my car, and dick hardening against the window.

Finally, their conversation abruptly ended with Officer Bentley exclaiming, "Fine. You take a crack at the little faggot."

Officer Gregson walked to the side of me where he could see my face. "Don't mind him. He just takes his job way too seriously."

I softened, suddenly feeling hope. Maybe Officer Gregson was there to help me.

"I need you to nod when you hear what I'm saying."

I nodded.

"So you and I are just going to have a conversation. I believe that you're a good boy and you want to be a good boy for us. Is that true? You're gonna do what we say?"

The words he chose were so weird. True, I was a boy. True I wanted to be good for them. There's no point in being nitpicky over semantics. I nodded. "Yes."

"Good. Because the better you behave the sooner we all get to go home."

He waited for me to confirm. I nodded.

"Good. Now, here's the problem."

"We found you speeding, drinking and driving, and possibly resisting arrest. I know that's not the complete truth, but if I know Officer Bentley, and I do, he doesn't like people disobeying him. Understand?"

I nodded.

"But I want to help you. So, first, we're going to get this shirt off to make sure you're not hiding anything."

"I'm not I promise. Please..."

He patted my shoulder. "I want to believe you. The problem is safety is our top priority. More of a priority than your feelings. I know that's hard to hear. But that's just part of the process."

I nodded.

"Now, if it will make you feel any better, I can let you take your hands off the roof, if you want to take your shirt off as well. This means it can happen at your own pace. Would you like to do that?"

I nodded.

"Good. Go ahead."

I closed my eyes. I slowly moved my hands from the roof, down the side of car, I took off my shirt slowly. It was so cold. My nipples were harder than they've ever been.

"Good boy," Office Gregson said. "This next part may make you uncomfortable, but the sooner we do it, the sooner we get it over with."

I swallowed.

"Okay. For me to do the next part, I'm going to need you to spread your ass cheeks."

I couldn't believe it. I could barely move. I could barely think.

"Now," Officer Gregson added.

I just heard the quiet cries of my surrender. I took an ass cheek in each hand and spread them, my hole titillated by the cold air. It felt freshened somehow, my hole had never been so exposed. It sent a slight thrill through my body -- I was exposed, and they were somehow making me expose myself even more. Officer Gregson stood behind me, I felt myself getting even harder, and tense with fear. My ass clenched.

"Don't be shy. I'm gonna need you to relax if we are going to get this over with."

"I don't know how."

"Here's what we're going to do. I don't condone you drinking and driving, but since it's clear you are already drunk, here..." Officer Gregson picked up the sonic cup from the roof of the car and tilted the straw towards my mouth. He held it a few inches from my lips, waiting. With my hands on my ass, my dick up against the window, I leaned a little towards him, and wrapped my lips around the tip of the straw and sucked.

The Vodka warmed my throat and made me wince, but I wanted more. I closed my eyes and kept sucking. If this was going to happen, I wanted to be blackout drunk. Better if I didn't remember any of this. The slushie and alcohol had separated by then, so I was drinking mostly vodka. I coughed a little and fluid dripped from my lips. Officer Gregson gently ran his finger across my lips. He had the red ice slush on his finger, and pushed past my lips and wiped his thumb across my gums. The same finger that had touched my hole. I pulled my head back, and shook my head, No.

Officer Gregson looked up from my face and over at Officer Bentley. I was scared of Office Bentley. If Officer Gregson was built like a baseball player and kind like a teacher, Officer Bentley was built like a rugby player and mean like one too.

I looked at him with pleading eyes and opened my mouth. Anything was better than that badgering, forceful brute Bentley. He stuck his finger in my mouth. I sucked the vodka from his finger like a straw. And when he kept his finger in my mouth, I knew I was supposed to keep sucking.

"Get that finger nice and wet."

Officer Gregson stepped behind me. His body was arched over my back, his walkie-talkie and badge pressed into my bare back. He probed his finger at my hole, but I clenched. I couldn't do what he wanted. I just didn't want it and my body knew it. I tried. I really tried.

He leaned over me. His warm breath landed on my neck and ear like a cloud on a warm day.

"Daddy will take care of you." I leaned towards his voice, feeling comforted. "It's going to be okay. Just relax. Daddy's here."

And then, it happened. His finger pushed inside my hole.

"O"

It felt weird, uncomfortable, and a little painful. I gritted my teeth. But after a few minutes I could feel the effects of the alcohol. My body felt warmer, my muscles more relaxed, my eyelids were heavy. He warmed my body by leaning over me. The feeling of his wet finger sent goosebumps all over my body. Was it actually starting to feel good? Was I enjoying it? No, definitely not... at least not exactly. And even if I was enjoying it, it's only because the male prostate is the most pleasurable part of the male body. I knew from porn that even straight men liked to be fingered. So, that doesn't make me gay. That doesn't mean anything. My dick pulsed against the window. I felt precum rub between my dick and the window, suddenly it felt like a slip-n-slide.

"Tell daddy how good it feels."

"What?"

"Tell daddy how good it feels to have my finger inside of you."

I didn't say anything. I heard footsteps approach me. Suddenly, nervous, my whole body tense. It was Bentley. He put his lips to my ear. "Thing is faggot, I think you're liking this."

I tried to shake my head, but it was so feeble.

"Don't lie. You know what happens when you lie to a police officer?" SMACK. It came as a shock, his firm hand slapping my ass.

"Ah! Please don't! Please stop."

SMACK.

He yanked my hair, so I was looking at him. "How about this faggot? I'll stop if you turn around and show me that you're not hard. If you're not hard, we'll let you go home. We'll even drive you home. And if you're hard, then you have to come home with us."

I lowered my head, because I knew I would lose.

"I don't even need to see. I know you're hard. Just give in to it." He reached his hand between legs and choked my balls and shaft with his large hands.

"But I'm not gay."

"It's okay baby. You're not gay. You've just got hard from a man's finger in your hole. So say thank you to Officer Gregson. Say thank you daddy."

I didn't say anything.

SMACK! "Say it."

SMACK! "Say it."

My ass started to burn from the pain. I just wanted to stop feeling humiliated. I mumbled, "Thank you, daddy, for fingering me."

SMACK! "Say it so he can hear you. Say it like you mean it."

"Daddy, thank you for--"

SMACK! "Louder!"

My ass was throbbing, and my dick was hard, and I felt so scared and humiliated, and so so so fucking turned on. I knew what I had to do. I took a deep breath in.

"THANK YOU DADDY FOR FINGERING ME! THANK YOU!!!"

"Good boy. Now get in the back of the car."

I was stunned. What?

"And leave your clothes."

I found myself next to Officer Gregson in the backseat, his arm around me. They kept me fully naked and handcuffed. Officer Gregson kept telling me to drink while Officer Bentley just stared at me through the rear-view mirror.

I had never been in the back of a police car before. I couldn't make my erection go away, but I didn't dare touch it. I did want to send the wrong message. I didn't want them to think that I was actually enjoying this. Even if they already suspected that I was, in fact, enjoying it.

How did I get here? I was coerced by two police officers. They made me strip naked. They got me drunk. More than drunk. Wasted really.

I felt safer in the backseat with Officer Gregson, but Officer Bentley's stared at us through the rear-view mirror.

Officer Gregson grabbed my balls. "I think he likes it. He's so hard he might explode." He wiped the precum from the head of my dick, making my penis jump. I ached for release. His finger rubbing it gently, sending chills all over my body. Then he took my precum and reached between my legs. The next thing I felt was a wet finger massaging my hole. Circling and diving like a shark.

"Don't worry boy, I'm gonna take care of you. I'm gonna be gentle. I'm gonna use your own cum to open you up."

Officer Gregson applied more and more pressure with each passing second. He slid his finger out and put it into my open mouth. It had already been in my ass, but I knew not to resist with Officer Bentley's eyes glaring at me. I closed my lips around his finger. I didn't know what was happening, but I knew there would be less friction if his finger was wet. So, I sucked and lapped my tongue around his finger.

"That's right. Get it nice and wet."

He reached his hand back, sliding his finger back in. It still felt uncomfortable at first, but it got better when he started gently massaging my prostrate. I let out gentle moans. No one has even known my body like that. No one has ever found that precious walnut-size pleasure organ and played it like a drum. He circled it with his finger, which made me even harder, harder than I knew was possible. I clutched onto Officer Gregson's broad shoulders. It was unbearable, but I didn't want him to stop. An involuntary moan escaped my lips.

I watched him smile, confidence in his eyes, like he knew something I didn't. "You love it when I finger your boyhole."

I just nodded.

Then, abruptly, he shoved my face into his crotch and rubbed his bulge all over my face. I caught so off guard that I just gave into it.

"Tell me how bad you want to see it. I know you want to see the real thing up close, not through my pants. I know you want it. Tell daddy how much you want it."