A few evenings later, I got stopped out on the edge of town for having a tail light out. The squad car pulled up behind me, lights flashing, and while he was coming toward my car I got out my license and registration. It was still light enough that I could see him in my rear view mirror and I was thinking I didn't mind getting stopped by this guy. Just the way he walked sent chills through me, not to mention the way he filled out the dark brown uniform. Fuck! I was thinking, if he ticketed me, I would like to pay the fine right there. I rolled my window down as he came up to the car.
I'd been on my way home from dropping off a dinner for old Mrs. Jenkins. My mom knew her through church and brought her dinner a couple times a week. That evening my mom had volunteered me to make the run. I hadn't wanted to do it, worn out from baseball practice and taking on four guys after, but it turned out to be a good thing.
"I didn't think I was speeding," I said, handing him my license and registration.
"Hi, Deputy," I said. It was Brady! No wonder he looked so hot coming toward me.
"Hey, Kenny." He sounded serious and I was afraid I really was in trouble.
"Was I speeding?" I asked.
"That's not why I stopped you," he said. "Do you know you've got a tail light out?" he said in a polite but sexy-husky voice as he scanned the documents.
"No, sir, I didn't know, or I would've had it fixed," I said.
"Well, that's a pretty stock answer," he said. He handed the papers back to me and I put them on the seat beside me.
"Get out," he ordered.
I looked at him, shocked and bewildered, but instinctively reached for the door handle as he ordered. I didn't know what was going on with his attitude and I didn't ask. I pulled the handle and shoved the door open and climbed out of the car. I wondered what he was going to do, a little scared even. What was the sudden mood all about? Was he secretly a bad cop.....was he going to beat me up or something? Did he resent what happened between us in the Sheriff's squad car the other night?
"I want you to walk back to my squad car, slowly, one foot in front of the other."
"I haven't had anything to drink," I said.
"That's what they all say, while they're in the ditch puking up their socks."
I walked back to his car, placing one foot carefully in front of the other, like I'd seen on television.
"Go around to the other side of the car," he said.
I did as he said while he came around too, standing on the side away from the road.
"Hands on top of the car," he said as he grabbed me by the arm and shoulder to turn me around.
I placed my hands on top of the car, with a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach.
"Feet apart." I set my feet apart. "Wider," he said, kicking my feet out.
What the hell, I wondered, half way between two thoughts; was this a game he was playing for my benefit? But he sounded too serious for it to be a game, was he going to arrest me for something?
He started patting me down, only it was more than the pat downs I'd seen on the cop shows. It was more like a squeeze down because he patted me hard with his fingers digging into my muscles. He squeezed his long, talon like fingers into my shoulders and arm muscles then ran his hands roughly down my sides and on down my legs. He came back up on the inside of my legs, squeezing my thigh muscles. He really checked me out around my hips and my butt. He squeezed my butt muscles unmercifully, then rose to his feet again and reached his arms around front. He squeezed my pecs and patted down my stomach, then moved down the front of my thighs. He came back up, groping my crotch.
"What's all this?" he growled as he felt and groped and manhandled the bulge in my jeans. "MMmmm, feels like loosely packed cocaine."
"No, Brady, that's all me," I said.
"We'll see about that," he said as he found my belt and undid it. "And call me Deputy," he said.
Shit, what was this all about? I was getting mixed signals.
"Think it's time you had a cavity search anyway," he said. "To make sure you're not secretly carrying drugs. You know what a body cavity search is, don't you?"
I thought he would come around in front of me to check out what I was "hiding" in my shorts but he stayed behind me, pulling my jeans down below my knees. He reached between my legs and felt the front of my shorts. By that time I was getting hard. He felt all around, mauling my balls roughly while I winced, then he explored the bulge of my cock. Then he pulled my shorts down in front and felt me up raw. I was surprised he was touching me there, but maybe he wanted to all along but needed a made-up excuse to do it. My cock throbbed in his fist as he even stroked it a couple of times.
"Feels clean in front, feels like nothing but a stiff prick and a pair of balls. Let's check the back. That's where they mostly hide the stuff." He pulled my shorts down below my knees and began feeling my butt.
I liked his hands on my butt, the way he pulled it apart. I heard him spit then felt his wet finger rubbing between my buns, the tip rubbing against my asshole. He shoved it through, rather roughly and probed around inside my ass.
"OOhhh!" I gasped.
"Sounds like that's feeling good to you," he said as he continued to probe around.
"It don't hurt...Deputy," I said. He'd learned the Sheriff's lesson about my hot button well, rubbing it hard.
"Well, maybe I got something that will," he said. He probed my ass for a couple of minutes, till I was almost dancing around on his hand. If he'd done it a minute longer I think I would've shot my load all over the side of the car. But then he stood up, pulling his finger out.
I didn't know what he was doing and I was afraid to look around to see. I didn't believe this was really a serious stop and cavity search, but he sounded and acted so serious that I thought I should go along with it. He pulled my butt apart again with one hand and I felt something slick pressing against my asshole. It wasn't his cock. Whatever it was, he twisted it around and pushed it harder against my hole. I winced when it penetrated me, and realized it was his night stick! Or baton, I didn't know the difference, only that the one he was carrying was about a foot and a half long with a shorter handle......about six inches from the end.....which meant, if he used it on me all the way up to the handle, I was going to have a foot of it in my ass. That scared me a little.
I stayed leaning against the vehicle though, with my feet spread apart and my butt jutted out. Whatever it was he was using on me, it felt smooth, I thought it might be covered with leather. He twisted it around as he shoved it in deeper. He was careful to work it around and past any obstacle he felt, but he was persistent, giving me no quarter; the thing just kept going in deeper and deeper.
"Ohh, Godd!" I whispered loudly, and heard him chuckle. I braced myself for receiving the whole thing, 'cause he gave no sign of letting up. It wasn't hurting except when he pushed against something, but I didn't know where it all would go. Suddenly I felt the handle pressing against my ass. Fuck, he had it all the way in me!! He twisted it around several times, rubbing my butt with the handle. He reached between my legs for my balls and squeezed them against the handle, one on each side of it. That hurt a little, but it was so erotic that it felt sort of good at the same time. He fucked me a little with my balls against the handle then let them go and I felt him twisting the handle around to point upward. He pulled my butt apart again and wedged the handle between them. My butt clamped around it, holding the baton securely deep in my ass. Then he wasn't touching me at all.
Again, I was curious about what he was doing but I didn't look around. I was concentrating on the huge cudgel lodged deep in my ass, squeezing on it with my ass muscles. A certain way I squeezed and moved I could make it touch my prostate. I heard a thud and glanced a little to my left and saw his duty belt on the ground with all his gear on it. Then I could hear his regular belt. I knew beyond any doubt I was going to get fucked. That excited me. Next thing, he was playing with my butt again, working the handle of the baton back and forth within the grip of my butt muscles. Then I felt his warm cock on my butt. I felt the baton moving around inside me again, thinking he was going to pull it out and replace it with his cock. Instead, I felt the head of his cock pressing hard against my hole with the baton still in me!!
He pressed harder.
Oh Godd, he's going to double fuck me, with the baton and his cock!! I braced myself, somewhat fearfully. Suddenly he penetrated me and his cock slid in under the night stick. I was a little surprised how easily my ass accepted him, and more surprised how good it felt, his cock pushing against the night stick that was way deeper in me. He shoved deeper and slid across my prostate, causing me to whimper. All the way in, I felt his hairy thighs against mine then his pubes pressing against my butt and against the handle of the night stick.
"Ohh, My Godd!" I blurted out in a burst of pleasure.
"Don't feel any contraband in there," he said. "You're clean, kid, so let's just enjoy it, huh?"
"Yess," I hissed. "Oh, yess, fuck me, officer. Just be easy, please, I never got fucked before with a night stick and a cock."
He chuckled and said, "You don't have to call me officer, Kenny. I'm just Brady."
"I....wasn't sure," I said meekly, quite relieved at his change in demeanor.
"I wanted you to wonder," he said. "You played along with it real good."
"It wasn't all play acting, on my part," I told him. "I was a little scared, actually."
"Good. That means a real punk would be scared," he said. "The baton feeling okay in there?" he asked as he stroked his cock gently in and out a couple of times.
"Yeah. Feels good. I'm sure glad for the handle, though."
"It's movable. I could move it back and give you a couple more inches of the stick," he said.
"No!" I said. "I don't know where it all went, I don't need any more inches."
"Okay, just lean against the car and relax and enjoy the fuck."
I did just that, except I didn't relax. I fucked back, jutting my butt back to meet his cock strokes and swallow up his thick, hard meat alongside the nightstick. I did it till my legs were shaking, being in the awkward position I was in.
"Lean inside the car through the window," Brady told me.
I leaned inside the vehicle and rested my weight on the window. It was a more relaxed position and it made the fucking feel even better. I loved it. My brain was seared with lust from the double fucking and my butt squeezed tightly around his cock and against the handle of the night stick. Brady did all kinds of moves with it. At one point it felt like he had shoved in on top of the baton, though I knew that was impossible. But it felt like it.
"Ohm, fuck, Brady!" I groaned. "Ohh, yeah.....keep doing that.....fuck, you're so deep......ohh....ohhh, yeah, fuck me, stud.....Godd, Yess, fuck me a new asshole......"
Bent over the window like that made it so good I was unable to maintain the control I had when I was standing outside the car. I tried, but my ass had a mind of its own and it was squeezing and fluttering all inside and making me want to scream while Brady kept on fucking me. I grabbed hold of the seat, the back with my left hand and the front edge with my right. It was a useless gesture, being pounded against the side of the door, I wasn't going anywhere. Gradually, it became too good and I could feel all control slipping away. Then suddenly, it got too good and I was cumming.
"Ohm, fuck, I'm cumming, Brady!" I cried out. "Oh, Godd, fuck me.....fuck me, don't stop.....ohh, that night stick f-feels so good! Oh, shit.....ohhh, fuck, Brady......give it to me."
My head was buzzing with lust, I felt myself start to black out. I laid my head in the seat and pretty much collapsed over in the window, giving myself up to the brutal pounding from behind. Brady was getting wild back there and I was a little afraid of what he might be causing the night stick to do to my insides. But for the moment it was just too good to worry about it.
I was only vaguely aware of actually shooting my load. I felt the intense, almost unbearable pleasure then I felt myself floating back, and wondered how long I'd been out of my head. Brady wasn't moving but still inside me. I could hear his heavy breathing. Then I felt him pulling out. My brutalized ass ached for him to stay in. His cock popped free, then I felt the night stick being slowly extracted from deep in my guts. He was very gentle about it. When it popped free I felt his warm cum trickle down the inside of my thighs.
"You okay?" he asked, leaning down to the window.
"Yeah." I was barely able to speak. It was a chore to even raise my head. "Godd, Brady, you must've shot a gallon of cum in me, the way it's running down my legs," I said as I rose up and shoved myself out the window. I straightened and shoved myself away from the car, bending over to pull up my jeans and shorts. I dug into my jeans pocket for my handkerchief to stuff in my shorts to soak up the cum draining out. Brady was wiping his cock off, then his night stick. He laid it aside on top of the car and pulled up his shorts and pants. Seeing the long black weapon I couldn't believe it had all been inside me. And Brady's cock, too. Holy shit, I thought.
"I didn't know you guys carried those," I told him while I stared at the long weapon.
"Nah, I found it in a cabinet at the station, under some other shit. It's probably pretty old but I thought it was cool so I took it. When I saw it was you driving down the road I got the idea to use it on you." I could hear him getting himself put back together.
"I can't believe the whole thing was in me, up to the handle. It's gotta be a foot long," I said as I turned back to him.
"Gotta tell you, that was the hottest sex I ever had," he said as we walked around his car onto the road.
"It was the wildest sex I ever had," I said. "I couldn't believe it when I realized you were going to shove your night stick in me. Thank God no one drove by."
Suddenly....."Oh, shit!" and his expression faded to horror as he opened the car door. He reached down and flipped a switch on the control.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"The two way was on the whole time!" he said, his voice filled with the horror he felt.
"You mean.....they could hear us back at the station?"
"Every word," he said. "Fuck!" He pounded the steering wheel.
"What're you going to do?"
"I was just asking myself that," he said. "Drive off a cliff, maybe. Fuck, how can I go back there! No doubt they were all sitting around listening to everything."
I tried to remember what I'd said. I couldn't remember exactly but I knew it was damning.
"What will the Sheriff say, do you think?" I asked.
"It's not Sheriff Walker I'm worried about. Hell, he's okay with whatever we do. It's the guys. How am I ever going to face them?"
"I'll face them with you," I said bravely. I could see he was very worried.
"That's brave and noble of you, Kenny, but this is my problem. Shit, you don't wanta go in there and face those guys, them knowing what we did. I mean, I fucked your ass, yeah, but you're the one that took the fucking, with my cock and a night stick." He looked around, thoughtfully. "If we could just find something to move on. A shooting, or an armed robbery, to take the attention away from it," he said. After a moment he said, "Fuck it," and reached down and flipped the switch back on. The sheriff was on the speaker.
"Brady, haven't heard anything from you all afternoon. Everything okay out there?"
He grabbed the mike. "All okay, Sheriff. Will be rolling in shortly."
"Roger. Just checking."
"We're going in?" I asked.
"I can't stay out here forever," he said. "I'll follow you home, make sure you get there okay."
"I'll still face 'em with you, Brady," I said.
"Naw, get back in your car. I'll handle it," he said.
I drove off, but slow enough that he would pass me. I wanted to follow him. We drove around for quite a while before he went back to the station. He eased into a parking spot very slowly; it was as if the car itself was dreading the return. I pulled into an empty space and got out. He looked at me, then with a sigh, opened his door.
"Go home, Kenny."
"No. I'm going in with you."
He shrugged. I thought he was secretly glad I was standing beside him. We were close enough that I reached for the door and held it open for him. I followed him in. Inside, everything seemed normal. Nobody said anything, they hardly looked up. I didn't see the Sheriff.
"Sheriff said he wants to see you when you got in," one of the deputies said.
Brady lifted the part of the counter that served as a gate but I held back.
"He'll probably want to see you, too," the same deputy told me.
I swallowed hard, thinking the only reason he would've said that was if they had heard everything.
Inside, Sheriff Walker was sitting behind his desk. Brady closed the door and we walked forward to stand in front of the desk. Jack waved us to the chairs and we both sat down. I thought I could detect a tight smile on the man's face, then I saw his stomach lurch with a choked laugh.
"You heard," Brady said quietly.
Sheriff Walker's smile broadened. "Fuck, everybody heard," he said. He was shaking his head. "You used a night stick on him?"
Brady lowered his head, his eyes downcast. "It seemed like a good idea at the time," he muttered.
"Sheriff, I take part of the blame. I shouldn't have made so much noise, said all of those things while he......"
He waved me to silence, then directed his smile at me. "There's no blame. Nobody's getting reprimanded. I've put a gag order on the matter, but you know....." He looked at Brady......"you know there'll be something said. Little remarks and innuendos."
"Oh, fuck. Oh, shit," I whispered suddenly.
"What?" Sheriff Walker asked.
"Nothing," I murmured.
"What?" he asked again, more gruffly.
I looked at Brady. "I shot my load all over the side of the car. I forgot to clean it off."
"Aww, shit!" he swore, laying his head back.
The Sheriff leaned back in his chair, laughing and shaking his head. He brought his arms up and folded his hands behind his head. "I swear, son, for a Marine, you sure know how to fuck things up," he told Brady.
"I know, sir. Maybe I should just resign."
"Don't even think about it. I'm not losing a good deputy over this," he said sternly. "Look, you got a piece of ass while on duty. I expect about every guy out there has done the same thing, just not a boy's ass. You're going to stick around and take your medicine till it blows over."
"You know this'll never blow over, Sheriff. I'm going to be haunted by this right into retirement."
"But they'll be laughing about it. I don't see any harm done; I see a lesson learned," Jack said. Then he looked at me. "You, uh....said you're shouldering part of the blame. Brady, here, has to work with these guys, and take his medicine, like I said. For your part......." He paused, rubbing his hands together thoughtfully.
"What can I do for my part in it?" I asked, because I really did want to ease some of the blame off of Brady.
"Well, the guys all know about you, that means they're curious as hell. Most of them, anyway. I saw more than one guy sporting some wood while we all listened to the radio. I'm thinking, if they all got the same thing Brady did, then there wouldn't be so much said. They would all be in the same boat."
It didn't take much to figure out what he was saying, and I felt a twinge of excitement.
"You don't have to do anything, Kenny, you know that," he went on. "It's Brady's to deal with. But you said......"
"I'll do it," I cut in. "I want to take part of the responsibility. Just tell me what I need to do." In spite of my nervousness and extreme excitement I realized this was another turning point for me, a pivotal moment. Offering myself up to the sheriff's men went beyond getting fucked by my team. It went beyond Kyle, Jack, Brady and Coach Baldwin. I'd really be some kind of slut. But the thought of all those fit guys in their uniforms was almost too much to imagine, and just thinking about it made me want even more to take my share of the responsibility.
"Well, there's a small cell in the back that's outfitted more like a room than a cell. A larger, comfortable cot instead of a steel bunk, and a chair, lamp, rug on the floor. That sort of thing. The guys use it to sack out, sometimes to come in and sober up before going home. If you would want to drop by now and then and let 'em show it to you......."
"You don't have to do it, Kenny," Brady interrupted.
"I told him that," Sheriff Walker said, but he kept looking at me.
I didn't want to appear too excited. I thought about it for about a minute, then nodded. "Okay."
"You wanta start now?" Jack asked.
"Sure, why not."
He stood up and so did Brady and I. I didn't know where Brady went when we left Jack's office but Jack led me to the back, to the extra cell. He opened the door, smiling. "This'll also give you an idea what it's like to be in lockup. Go ahead, get comfortable, I'll send a couple of guys back."
I started taking off my clothes, my dick hard and my balls already tight. Whatever this meant for me I'd deal with it later.