We didn’t have long to wait. The front doorbell is sounding like it’s being punched over and over again. Except for the repeated and urgent clatter of the doorbell, the house is quiet, still and warm. Mocking birds nesting and cooing in the stately oak trees out front are adding a kind of surrealism to the early evening.
“Hurry Dad, we can’t keep Buck waiting, he’ll be mad!”
I’m hopping around on one foot trying to push the other into the leg of my levis, finally having to sit down on the edge of my bed to urgently push both feet in. Stand up, then down on my knees to fish out the Addis sneakers and sweat socks I pushed under the bed this morning after playing pick-up ball with Buck.
I sock up my feet, pull on my sneakers, lace them up, stand, grab an undershirt from a dresser drawer, drop it over my head, look in the mirror over my dresser using my hands to neaten my hair.
‘Hurry Dad!” Mark is almost yelling at me as he appears from his bedroom fully dressed, his long blond hair pulled back in a tight man bun. How he dressed so fast has me puzzled, but there he stands. Levis, white crew neck undershirt, the white Asics running shoe and the black shorty socks he wore this morning.
“We gotta get downstairs and let Buck in!”
“I’m ready son, I’m right behind you.” I say nearly out of breath.
I watch Mark exit the bedroom, me close behind. We hurry down the stairs to the front door. Mark still in front of me runs to the door, twist the knob and yanks the door open.
There he is, taking up the entire space with his solid body. A stern chiseled calm on his face. No smile, no greeting, nothing to give away what is boiling over in his mind. His white cop helmet still on his head, aviator sunglasses hiding his brown eyes, black leather shorty police gloves remain on his hands. Uniformed and booted he uses the palm of his hand to push Mark back out of the doorway and into the house.
My heart is pounding away in my chest, my breath is coming in short jagged desperate gasps watching him approach me. I cautiously back away trying not to swallow my tongue stopped only by the hallway wall behind me. My legs are stiff but shaking at the same time presenting my vulnerability to the handsome God of a man standing in front of me with a smirk on his narrow lips.
Buck stops at arm’s length in front of me. I can hear him breathe, smell his underarm manly stink, the leather of his cop jacket, his sweated-up cop boots.
“You motherfucker!” He spits out grabbing the front of my undershirt twisting it in his gloved left hand, pulling me away from the wall. Uses his right hand, palm open to slap my face back and forth.
Buck pinches my lips into a pucker, grabs the back of my head and smashes his mouth into mine. I can taste the sweetness of his saliva, hints of the hamburger he scoffed down earlier for lunch as his tongue storms inside to do battle with mine. He releases my shirt, pushes me back to hit the wall with a soft thud.
“We’re going to have us some fun tonight lawyer boy – you’re about to pay up BIG TIME!”
His gloved hands reach out and grab my crotch with force. He finds my balls hanging commando style inside of my levis and squeezes them in a tight leather grip causing me to sink to my knees in agony.
“Ahhhhhhhh!”
“Kiss my boots lawyer boy!”
I reach for the back of the heels of his dusty patrol boots inching myself forward. I can feel their heat with the palms of both hands. Smell the fine leather and boot polish as I use my teeth to chew the laces over the instep, careful not to unknot them while sucking in a kind of leather tang.
“I OWN your fucking ass lawyer boy – You BELONG to me now!”
Without warning Daniel appears in the doorway suited up in the cop uniform his Dad had tailor- made for him. He looks like a younger version of his Dad, not as brawny, slenderer, but still carrying the hefty build of a footballer. He casually walks over to Mark. Daniel has the same stoical expression on his handsome face as his Dad.
“Down on your knees slave boy and kiss my boots!”
Marks eyes are ablaze in a wonder-like trance as he looks upon his best friend turned Master.
“Don’t look at me asshole, get down on your worthless knees and lick my boots!”
“Yes Sir” is all Mark says dropping down to kneel in front of his friend turned Master.
I’m watching my son grovel before Daniel and wonder if he’s feeling the same sweet tightening of his guts as he worships his friend that I’m feeling for his father.
Mark, leans forward running his hands up and down the tall black columns of Daniel’s cop boots. Kisses and fondles them, smearing his saliva over the top of the boot as he uses his tongue to swab and lick. He rubs his cheeks over them, sniffing and humming at the same time. He has a faraway look on his face when he looks up at Daniel, a boyish smile on his lips.
“STAND UP!” Daniel says to Mark.
Mark immediately obeys and stands with lightning speed. Head bowed reverently, hands behind his back in an at ease position.
Daniel walks over to where his Dad is standing in front of me, reaches past his father and grabs the front of my shirt dragging me over to stand next to Mark. He’s wearing the black shorty leather police gloves like the ones Buck is wearing.
Daniel grabs the backs of our necks with his hands at the same time, pulls us to him. There is a look of contempt in Daniels eyes, the same his father is wearing on his face. Hawks spit that splashes on our foreheads. He watches It run down our noses and drip off the tip, A mocking grin enveloping his young face.
“You two shitheads are in for it!” he says using his gloved hands to grasps our shoulders while raising a knee to jab punishing blows to our scrotums.
We both double over clutching our balls. I’m not sure if the deep moan of pain is coming from my mouth or Marks, but it echoes around bouncing off the hallway walls.
“Just like you said Dad – we got the motherfuckers” Daniel declares walking over to his father who is leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, boots crossed at the ankles, and a big smile on his face. The first smile of the evening. They kiss.
Daniel comes back to us to where we’re still doubled over in pain, pulls us up one at a time and locks the crook of both arms around our necks and drags us over to his Dad.
“Look what I got for you Sir, they ain’t too messed up yet, huh?”
Daniel slams us both against the wall, grabs our throats with his gloved hands and squeezes tightly electing whimpers from us as we fight for air. Easy to see that he’s learned a lot about domination from his cop dad.
“Just like you told me Dad – how easy it was going to be, and you were right of course like you always are, Sir.”
Buck grabs Daniel by the back of his neck and pulls his face in for a full snog. We can hear the juicy exchange between father and son as they suck away at each other’s hungry mouths.
They break their clinch and turn toward us. Both men surveying us like two prize bulls they just purchased. Buck looks at his son then nods toward us dropping a hand to his crotch to cups the bulge in his uniform trousers.
“Let’s get these two assholes across the street and introduce Stuart here to the dungeon that Mark already know a lot about.” Buck says.
Something is stirring and struggling to come alive inside of me, as I look at Buck and see him in an entirely new light. Both me and my son have been manipulated by two masterful, controlling personalities. Buck is not my superior in any sense of the word. I’m an officer of the court, he’s a high school graduate who became a U.S. Marine and served with distinction, then a motorcycle cop who rose through the ranks to become a Sergeant, but he is not my superior.
I had sunk to the bottom of very deep well of despair after Jen passed away. Buck witnessed my trauma in real time and did nothing to pull me out of the dark water I was drowning in, Instead, for some warped reason that only he can account for, began to formulate a plan to at long last bring down his college educated high school pal, the trial lawyer he saw as better than himself.
I know who I am now, and it’s not the man Buck and his son have humiliated and abused with word and deed. I finally realize what Mark has been dealing with. The absent father figure, the reason he in his confusion, turned to Buck and his son. Theirs’s was the stable family that no longer existed at home. They filled the void that I thoughtlessly allowed to deepen, paying more attention to my law career and ambition than to my own son and his need for a strong father to nurture and guide him through some difficult teen age years. I let him down, simple as that.
In this moment, I’m admitting to myself that I not only love my son as a father should, but I love him in a sexual way that blind-sided me when he consoled me last night. His hand stroking the inside of my leg, and what he did after I was happy to let happened. I could have stopped him but in my confused mind, he became my lost wife, took her place in that clouded moment.
His warm mouth engulfing my dick was her precious mouth doing it, his hair falling softly down obscuring his face was her hair. I know what a psychiatrist would make of this, and he’d be correct.
But it’s past history now. What I have to do to redeem my self-respect and wrench my son away from the solid bond he has with Buck and Daniel, the two most dangerous influences in both of our life’s, is to find the correct time to begin the transformation for both of our sakes. I wait. But It must begin soon…
I can see the smile that plays across Marks face as he looks down at my crotch, turns his head toward Daniel who also is smiling from ear to ear and exchange knowing glances. Mark says to Daniel and Buck.
“My Dad is packing a big piece of uncut meat and his ass hole is good and tight, spic and span clean – I just cleaned it out, his first cleaning but not the last if I have anything to say about it.” Mark says nodding toward me. (I have to make a move soon).
“I sure as fuck am hungry for some good clean ass myself – what about you Sir?” Daniel states looking at his Dad.
“You know me son, I never turn down a good tight hole, especially if it’s on someone I’ve thought about for as long time. I love eating out a nice yuppie butt hole.”
They’re talking about me in the third person like I wasn’t even present. It makes me feel more like an object than a man, I guess it’s the reason my dick is coming to life. If they have their way, I’m about to become the slave to a cop, my best friend and his son. (I have to do something soon to stop this happening).
I’m ashamed feeling the sensation of precum oozing its way out of my stiff cock head, running down the inside of my hairy thigh, wetting it with its cloudy thickness.
“Ok you two shitheads head, out the front door. Get your worthless asses over to our house.
We exit the house and down the walkway, step off of the curb and start across the street, I feel a sharp pain in my hard ass when Buck uses the toe of his cop boot to kick me hard sending me tripping forward.
The dull pain radiates from my tail bone all the way down to my toes causing a sudden intake of breath. (He thinks that he’s completely in charge but knows nothing of the sudden flashes occurring inside of my brain, the plan I’m formulating).
Mark and I do as were told, Mark leading the way. I can hear Daniel pull our front door closed with a loud bang. Buck, is behind us and delivers another kick to my already aching ass.
I’m hoping that none of our neighbors witnessed the ass kicking scene, but even if they did, it would look like the playfulness and comrade between two friends, the ass kicking I mean.
Mark and I walk into Buck’s wide immaculate clean garage. Bucks black Dodge Ram is the only occupant, sitting in the center. The floor is painted a medium colored epoxy grey. There is a well-organized tool rack on the left side with ample space between it and his truck.
A black reinforced metal door on the far right and at head of the cavernous chamber looks ominous and foreboding.
Buck brushes past, shoving us to the side with Daniel close behind him. He removes a key ring from his duty belt to unlock the heavy black door and swings it open on its well-oiled hinges. He reaches inside to the right and flips a switch that illuminates the metal stairway down into the dimly lighted cavern below the house.
“STRIP” he barks at me, both of his gloved hand holding my head in a tight grip. I can feel the spittle he spat inside my ear making his loud pronouncement.
I bend as fast as I can to untie my sneakers and pull them off together with my sweat socks. Buck picks them up, stuffs my socks into the sneakers and throws them down the stairs and into the basement.
“Now, everything else law boy!” He sneers.
I snatch the undershirt over my head, unbutton my levis and shimmy them down to my feet. And since I’m going commando, everything is exposed. My dick is standing out in front of me slowly jerking up and down with the beat of my heart - up and down, a thin, transparent drool is making its way down to Bucks shiny epoxy floor.
Buck steps close and uses his gloved index finger to catch the hanging precum and brings it to his mouth, inserting the gloved finger between his lips to suck my off drool. I’m trembling although its late spring, almost summer.
I turn my head slightly to witness Daniel putting a wide black leather collar around Marks neck.
He kisses him while tightening the collar. Mark has a look of contentment and devotion on his face as Daniel works on him. He’s already stripped naked, a process I didn’t see being involved with my own disrobing.
Buck is cupping my hanging nut sack in one gloved hand, rolling it around, pulling the sack down toward the floor, while the other is tight around my fuck stick. He’s casting a knowing and mischievous glance at me, cocking his head slightly to purr in a warm unfamiliar tone into my ear close enough for me to feel his lips touch my ear lobe.
“This is what you dream about every night when you lay your head down on your pillow and go to sleep – the cop across the street – you don’t think I notice you checking out my package every chance you get, well my uninformed pal, I do. You’re still wearing your gold wedding band like that’s gonna protect you from me, but it ain’t.”
I’m struggling attempting to get a clear idea in my head as to how I’m going to carry out this turnabout. After all, there Buck stands bedecked in uniform and leather police gear including the Glock 19 snugly secured in the leather holster on his right hip. He’s a formidable opponent. Well trained and capable of taking care of himself, so my move has to be stealth and unexpected.
Daniel has Mark by the scruff of his neck pulling a black leather hood over his head, working to lace it up in the back, snapping the leather blindfold over his eyes, then pushes a leather dick gag into his mouth and secures it, snapping it into place.
Daniel twist Marks hands behind his back and forces him down the stairs into a place he knows well, one that I never knew existed. My son is happy being in the grip of his boy Master. He can’t wait for it to happen again.
I just need to stop this in its tracks. I can’t let this continue. My heart is almost breaking watching my son in this vulnerable position. At the hands of his captor, even though Daniel pretends to be Marks best friend.
“It’s your turn sport.” Buck says to me as he steers me down the basement steps. His hand firmly gripping the back of my neck. I go down slowly feeling the cold metal rungs under the soles of my bare feet. My eyes adjust to the dim lighting as we enter the basement man cave.
Nothing special jumps out on first viewing. Huge grey granite stones of varying sizes, fitted together with concrete between each stone cementing them into place forms the foundation for the two-story red brick house. Nothing unusual about the foundation for this part of the country. The concrete floor seems to have been ground smooth and covered with the same medium grey epoxy as in the garage.
Heavy hand-hewn wooden beams cross the ceiling spaced eight feet apart. Large round steel hooks are screwed into the beam some four feet apart that could support a grown man or an entire side of beef easily.
A black wooden do- it-yourself St. Andrews Cross stands like a sentry at the far end of the basement and is lighted by a hanging shop fixture. There is a sturdy padded wooden table covered in dull black leather. On a table, nearby are an assortment of suction cups of various sizes, tit clamps, a vacuum pump, coils of poly/cotton rope, stainless steel hand and ankle cuffs, Crisco, large bucket of lube, latex gloves, short and elbow lenght, and a couple sizes of stainless-steel urethra sounds and a rubber vintage World War 2 gas mask.
“Welcome to the man cave I call a dungeon.” Buck says as he pushes me deeper into his special place. “I’m rather proud of it and It suits my purpose as you will find out tonight.”
Mark is spread eagled on the Cross, hood over his head, his backside facing the room. Blond hair leaking from the bottom at the back of the hood.
I don’t know where it came from or what snapped in my mind, but watching Mark naked and stretched out on that Cross, ready to be whipped with a wide cop belt caused an avalanche of pent up emotion to come spilling out bringing all of my protective fatherly instincts forward like an earthquake
Buck was totally into what was happening on the other side of the basement, and paying little or no attention to me. That’s the golden moment I found my lost manhood. All I could comprehend was that my son was stretched out on the Cross, helpless, prepared to be beaten in front of me. My good boy was about to be whipped, drawing blood on his precious back and I in no way could allow that to happen.
Naked as I was and as vulnerable as I would probably look to an observer, this was the moment to take action, if it was ever to happen. Buck was so involved watching the wide belt dangling from his son’s hand that he didn’t see me stiffen my resolve, clench my right fist and with all the force I could muster, slam it into his midsection.
Buck immediately bellowed a loud groan and expelled air from his lungs, doubled over to land on his side, unable to catch his breath or move, which gave me the opportunity I needed to quickly grab his stainless-steel police cuffs from his wide tooled leather duty belt, pushed him over on his stomach, twisted his arms behind his back and slap the cuffs over his wrists in one fluid motion.
Daniel being so occupied with the act he was prepared to perform didn’t see the action taking place on the other side of the basement.
“Keep your fucking mouth shut Buck!” I say kneeling next to his head. He just nods, his eyes wide open and watches me walk over to his son, snatch the belt from his hand, grab his neck in a tight grip and slap his face with my open palm.
“Come to you senses boy – this is over!”
I can see him deflate before my eyes. His face softens as his lips begin to quiver. For the first time, he looks like a boy trying to play cops and robbers.
“Take Mark down from that cross and get that hood off of his head now!”
“Yes, Sir” he utters and does as told.
After Mark is released and the hood is removed I say to him. “Son, we have to have a serious talk.”
“Yes, Sir Dad – we need to talk for sure.”
“Daniel” I say “Follow me.” As the three of us walk over to where Buck is still laying on his side still cuffed.
“You two, help me get Buck to his feet and upstairs to his bedroom.”
“You’re not going to take my cuffs off?”
“Hell no.” I say – me and my son are about to fuck two cops, one a real cop and the other a wanna be cop, but what the hell, a tight hole is a tight hole.”
The End of Chapter 2
