Rough Riding to Baruf

Exhausted and trying to escape the pain and this filthy cell, I forced myself into sleep, in a sitting position on the bench, propped on one butt cheek to relieve the pressure on my ass. It had been a truly rough ride, but it had really hit the spot. I was aroused and satisfied as I never had been before, and it had been well worth the effort and risk. I slowly came to as voices became louder from the hall of the station. One of the voices sounded familiar. As two figures came in sight, I wasn't surprised to see the guy I had settled this deal with in the Starbucks. He was wearing army fatigues now, though and he looked a good deal more 'squared away' than he had when I last saw. Another uniform. My cock took a lurch. A uniform really made a man.

'Ah, look at him,' the familiar voice was saying, 'I haven't seen one of our clients strung up like that before.'

'He was resisting,' cop number one said with a big grin.

'Yeah, I'll bet. I knew you'd do him, but you didn't rough him up like that all by yourself, did you?'

'Naw, it wasn't all me, Stretch. Dan and Jack here took a dip too. This guy got his money's worth.'

'Not quite yet,' Stretch said with a dry laugh. 'These welts look pretty nasty. Your work?'

A little giggle from the cop. 'Yeah, you know me real well, Stretch, I guess. And what I like. But he ain't none the worse for wear. I didn't do any of my black leather stuff on him. Well, not much, anyway.'

Stretch was standing over me inside the cell now, the cop right behind him, and the trucker-type dude still snoring over on the cot.

'Hey, kid, it's me, the guy from Starbucks.' He was talking down at me now, but he turned to the cop.

'Let's get those cuffs off him now and get him into another room. You got any salve or something we can use on him?'

'Sure thing, Stretch.' My hands were freed and I just collapsed onto the bench.

Cop number one came back with the salve and they got me into another room, some place that looked like a small interrogation room, with a small beat-up wooden table and two rickety chairs. I was still naked, but the cop brought my underwear and pants along. My T-shirt was in shreds now.

'Here, stand up and lean over this table,' Stretch ordered. I did so, and he gently applied the salve to the welts all over my body. The cop just stood there, watching, a little grin on his face and breathing pretty heavily. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him rubbing his basket from time to time. Before Stretch was finished, the cop turned and left the room; off getting his rocks off at my expense again, no doubt.

'Okay, I think that will help,' Stretch eventually said. 'Put your pants back on and let's go.'

'Go where?' I asked suspiciously. 'I was on my way down the road and plan to be back on my way down the road.'

'Well, you'll have to drive me back to Annapolis first,' Stretch said. 'I got a ride right out here from a meeting as soon as I heard you were here. I know you were having fun but any more of that and I'd have to charge you another hundred. I'm without wheels, so you're going to have to drive me back first.'

What could I say? He had sprung me from the jail and, more important, seemed to have full power to put me back there if he so decided. So, we went out the door and to the Jag. As we were leaving, I could see cop number one off in a side room, slumped in a chair, his pants off, beating himself with one hand and flicking his whip across his legs with the other.

We weren't more than a couple of miles down the road, when Stretch started gently tracing the welt marks on my chest and belly with his right hand.

'Please, don't do that,' I said.

'Do they still hurt?' He asked.

'They do sting a bit,' I answered.

His hand went down and covered my basket.

'Hey, don't do that,' I said. 'Just stop, all right?'

But it wasn't all right. He was unbuckling my belt, unzipping my jeans, and running his hand into the opening. He bypassed my cock and my balls, and his big index finger slid on across my perineum and stopped at the rim of my ass.

'Stop; just stop that,' I said. He got his left hand under my butt and pushed me forward on the seat, which gave him better entry to my ass with the fingers of his other hand, and enter he did with that index finger. He was moving it around, driving me crazy.

'We're going to have an accident if you don't stop that,' I said, trying to put irritation in my voice. But he was really turning me on.

'Then pull over,' he said huskily. 'There, up ahead. There's a closed shopping strip mall. Pull in behind that.'

'No. Certainly not!'

His finger pushed farther in and my body jerked and the car veered out of the lane.

'God, you're going to kill us!'

'Not if you do what I say. Not if you pull over where I told you to.'

'Okay, okay. Pull that finger out and I'll pull over.' He did, and I drove around and behind the closed line of stores. As soon as I'd gotten stopped, he had his hand back in my lap, this time stroking my cock, pumping me up. His mouth was on mine in a long, drawn-out kiss.

He broke away and opened his door. He was holding my right wrist in his left hand with a strong wrestler's grip.

'Here, out of the car. This side. I don't want to have to chase you down, but I could if I had to.'

I first tried to fasten my pants, but he just said, 'No, you're not going to need to do that.'

'But . . .'

'Just take the damn seatbelt off and slide in this direction.'

I did as he demanded. When he had me out of the car, he slammed the front passenger door, opened the back door, and pushed me down on the back seat. He produced a set of the cop's handcuffs from somewhere, snapped one end around my right wrist and then pushed me down along the back seat, passing the linking chain through the seat belt two-thirds down the seat, and then snapped the other cuff on my left wrist. I was stretched out on the seat, my torso and arms inside the car, my butt on the edge of the door side of the seat, and my legs hanging out of the car.

He stripped my pants off and stepped back and pulled his own clothes off. He produced his ointment and a condom from somewhere and sheathed and lathered up his cock, pumping it up to its gigantic proportions.

I should have been horrified. But my body was aching to be taken by another man in uniform.

He took a gob of ointment and started working it into my asshole. I was lying on my left side, and he lifted my right leg up to give him an good view of my channel. When he had me moistened up to his satisfaction and his own pole standing at magnificent attention, he slapped my butt and said, 'Get out here. Get your butt out here, feet on the ground, chest on the seat.' I wasn't moving fast enough for him, so he dragged me out of the car and brought my rear end up into the air.

'Stand wide,' he said. 'Stand as wide as you can for your own good.' I believed him and did so. He pulled my butt cheeks apart and brought his mouth to my asshole and tongued it briefly. Then he was only holding my left butt cheek, and I felt his cock at my hole. It reminded me of that cop's billy club. He took his time entering me, and when he was in all the way, he rocked me back and forth, pumping deep. I moaned and groaned and he grunted and sighed. After a few minutes he turned me, rotating me around his embedded cock and had me laying on my left side again, raising my right leg and side splitting me with continued deep pumps.

'So, dude. Do you like this? Do you love this?'

'Yes,' huff, puff.

'Too rough? Should I stop?'

'Oh, God, no. Don't stop.'

He rotated me yet again. This time my back was on the seat, and he was supporting my butt up in the air with both of his hands, suspending me and moving both his cock and my pelvis in a rapid, deep fuck. I got my legs and feet back in the car. My right foot was in the corner of the back window, and my left foot was on the ceiling above the passenger door.

He pumped and pumped and pumped, and then he pulled out of me. I felt his withdrawal as a loss. I was on the point of coming. I wanted to come while he was inside me.

'What do you want me to do now?' he said, knowing full well what I wanted.

Silence. 'I don't know, what do I want you to do?' I couldn't bring myself to say it.

'You want me to fuck you, fuck you hard; fuck your brains out. Say it.'

'Fuck me. Fuck me hard; fuck my brains out.'

And he did that as best he could. He got a pillow off the floor and stuffed in under my hips, and just fucked me and fucked me and fucked me. His hands came over my hips. His right hand went to my cock and he pumped me until I shot off all over his belly. His hands then traveled slowly up my torso and buried themselves in my chest. With a heave he pulled his rod out of my ass and shoot up my belly. Then he lowered his belly to mine, and moved it around, mingling my cum with his.

He stood up, put his clothes back on, made a clumsy attempt to push my pants back on as well, pushed me all the way into the car, slammed the door, and came around to the driver's side and got in.

'I'll drive the rest of the way. You can drop me off down by the harbor and then drive on back to the Academy yourself. Any problem with a check being in the mail tomorrow?'

'No,' I said with a sigh.

'Satisfied?'

'Yes, very?'

'Anything else we need to do here?'

A long pause.

'Well there is something else,' I said. 'What in the hell does baruf mean?'

He laughed and then he told me. 'BARUF is an acronym used to tell the cops along this route what you've paid to have done. It stands for bondage and rough uniformed fuck. You were just picking from the menu.'

When I dropped him off, I was happy to note that he hadn't taken the sign back. There was no telling when I might want to take a fast ride down that straight and level section of road again.