The Formation of Calluses

Friction

 “Fuck...” I heard myself say, as the blue and red lights lit up on the highway behind me under the cold gray of the December sky. I'd been lost in my music, coasting down the highway, three hours into a six hour road trip back to my college dorm. My foot had gotten heavy while I distracted myself – I'd been going well over ninety miles an hour.

“Fuck!” I slowed down and flashed my turn signal before drifting onto the shoulder of the road, rumbling to a complete stop on the gravel and the faded grass. My hands were tingling, stomach a ball of frozen butterflies. I'd never been pulled over before. I'd never even talked to a cop. I'd been a goody two-shoes in high school, and the college town I'd lived in during the two subsequent years had a police force that wasn't exactly strict.

The cop's cruiser had pulled in behind mine, all but touching my back bumper. The lights were still flashing. I could see a broad form in the driver's seat, made black by the shadows of the bitter winter day.

My mind raced, trying to remember what I'd need to have ready for him. I pulled my wallet from my pocket with shaking hands – insurance! I reached over and clumsily yanked it out of the glove compartment, spilling papers and maintenance receipts all over the floor. I had my hands on the steering wheel in front of me soon after, waiting. I heard a car door slam shut behind me.

The man I saw in the rear-view mirror wasn't just broad – he was composed of thick, sinewy muscle that bulged beneath the navy blue of his uniform, threatening to burst at the shoulders and chest.The skin of his strong hand where it griped the butt of his gun was weathered and pale, almost milky, but covered in a thick coat of fine black hair. His head was shaved bald, but he had a full beard, equal parts black and gray. Despite the amazing shape he was in, he was also considerably older than me –just over fifty, maybe.About as old as my dad. I couldn't see much beyond the stern look on his face, but I knew he wasn't happy. A fresh wave of cold dread poured into my gut. This would be no common scolding.

I rolled down the window as his massive frame came to rest at the driver's side. His sturdy, firm belly engulfed my view, flat enough but very broad, along with the giant silver belt buckle, the strap and holster of his black sidearm – and the top portion of a very large bulge in his pants. Why had I even noticed that? Why was my mouth so dry?

“License and registration,” he said flatly from above the roof of the car. His voice was deep and rich, thick with a refined South Georgian accent, but the command behind every word was undeniable. I realized I'd been silent for more than a moment too long before he'd spoken. I hadn't even greeted him politely as I'd always been told to to.

I blushed and fished my paperwork out of my pocket, held it out for him. The hairy hand that took it was bigger and broader than mine, with light dustings of black fur on the back of each knuckle. Something stirred in the pit of my stomach. Butterflies again, but they were no longer cold. I was too worried about keeping my hands on the wheel to think about that very much. Ten-and-two, visible and still.

He was looking over my paperwork, silent as before. I didn't dare speak up at this point. I could only hope it was obvious how shaken up I was. I'd rather be thought a pussy than disrespectful, at least where gigantic cops with guns were concerned.

“Where you headed today?” he asked casually, perhaps trying to put me at ease.

I welcomed the distraction. “Oh, uh – back to school. In Savannah. I spent Christmas back home, up in Blairsville, but spring classes start up this week, so...yeah. I've been driving for hours. I guess I...”

“You aware that the speed limit is sixty around here?” he asked bluntly.

“Uh...I hadn't checked the limit in a while, officer. I kinda let my thoughts drift off...it's a really long drive.”

“Mmm-hmm,” was all he said, curt and gruff. “Well, I don't think the limit gets near ninety-five anywhere along this whole highway. Just cause it seems like you're the only one on the road today don't mean you get to ignore the speed limit. I'm gonna have to write you a ticket for that. There'll be a fine.”

A spike of anxiety brought me into reality, making my head spin. “How much?” I asked quickly, not thinking. I tried to look up at him, but he was standing so close that all I saw were the broad plains of his chest and the cold metal buttons of his blue uniform.

“Oh, I don't know...for something like this I'd expect it to be close to four hundred or so. You were going way too fast, bud. This is pretty serious business. Now, excuse me. I'll be right back.” He took my paperwork back to his car, ending our conversation.

“Fuck!” I groaned as soon as his door shut. Four hundred! I wasn't like the trust fund kids and daddy's boys I hung out with in college. I was there on a scholarship, and it barely covered my room in the dorm.If I couldn't pay off the ticket, I'd be arrested. If I was arrested, I'd lose my scholarship. I'd have to move back to my shitty little hometown in the hick-choked mountains – that is, if my prudish, cheapskate parents even agreed to take me back in after doing something this stupid...

I swallowed, despite the fact that my throat was dry as a bone. I was trying not to panic. By the time the cop had returned to my window I'd failed. My palms were sweating, mind racing. I had to do something.

“I'm sorry, officer – I'm so sorry,” I blurted. “I make this trip a few times a year, and you know how this highway is – nothing but trees, for hours and hours. I got tired. Lazy. It'll never happen again, I swear – I just – I can't pay that. I'll get kicked out of school, and I can't do – I'll do anything, man. You name it, I'll do it. Community service, whatever you want, anything – I've got a hundred bucks in my bank account – you can have it – just please, please don't ruin my – ”

“That's enough!” he snapped,practically roared.His massive hands had closed into fists.

I shut up like a little kid, knuckles white on the wheel of my car. My heart was racing dangerously fast. My pits were soaked through with cold sweat. All the work it took to get that scholarship, all the work I'd done the last two years of school...it was all slipping away as I watched, because of one stupid mistake. I willed myself not to tear up. I couldn't handle any more disgrace.

One big hand gestured to me after a long moment, beckoning. “Get on out of the car, boy. Turn it off first.”

Shit…

I opened the door, and got out, in a daze now. My jacket was strewn across the back seat of my car. I wore only a black t-shirt and jeans, so the sudden chilly bite of the winter air seemed to slap me awake. I could feel my nipples harden from the cold, pressing almost painfully against the thin cotton of my shirt.

I wasn't thinking about it then, but I'm sure he could see them – along with everything else. The shirt was on the tighter side, after all. I'd been a shy kid in high school, until I'd started going to the gym during my senior year. I'd been pretty consistent with it since then, and I'd always been a hiker, so my body had trimmed down and shaped up pretty fast. I'd bought a crop of new clothes earlier that year, one size smaller than anything I'd ever worn, now that I was confident enough to wear them. My tighter shirts showed off my broad shoulders, decent pecs, and flat stomach. My jeans were tight around my thick thighs, round ass, and narrow-enough waist. I'd enjoyed an immediate increase in the number of gorgeous college chicks willing to fuck me after that, so I'd started wearing them every day. Even when it was too cold for t-shirts. I should have realized that attention wasn't always a good thing, that it didn't always come from nubile young women. But some lessons are only taught by experience.

I stood up on shaky legs, facing the cop. I wasn't much taller than me, but he was much broader and stronger, and he held every ounce of power in the situation. He towered over me in his neatly pressed blue uniform, his gun resting easily at his hip. I kept my eyes well away from his, locked on the black pavement far below, hoping they weren't too wet or red. My brown Sperrys were less than a foot from his meticulously polished black boots, shifting nervously like rabbits in an open field.

The weight of his hand appeared at my shoulder, leading me around the front of my car. “Let's get out of the road first.” I let him guide me, mind all but crumpling beneath the weight of everything that would happen in the next few months as my life, my future, fell apart.

Moments later I realized we were at he passenger side of his sleek navy blue cruiser. Its windows were tinted black, utterly opaque. They – along with the roadside shrubs, a nearby exit sign, and the downward slope of the road's shoulder – worked to hide us well enough from any cars that might pass on the nearby highway. Why did I even think about that? Where were my thoughts going?

The relative privacy was just enough to break the dam I'd been building up over the last twenty minutes, and I let out a hitched sob. I felt the sudden sting of tears leaking from my eyes, but I shook my head and wiped them away, livid with myself. I would not cry in front of this fucking cop. Not even if – wait. Why were we at his car?

“Am I being arrested?” I asked, hating the way my voice wavered at the edge of tears.

 “Shut up,” he ordered. No malice in it. Only force. Only complete and utter authority. “Cross your hands behind your back.”

“Fuck...” I whispered, and complied. The expected snap of his handcuffs around my wrists followed seconds later. They were cold and constricting, and he fastened them just tight enough to pinch the skin of my wrists.

He grabbed my bound forearms and hauled me roughly around to face him, my back pressed flat against the freezing steel and glass of his cruiser. He had his hand pressed against my chest, keeping me pinned. I knew he could feel my heart pounding. This didn't seem right. I finally looked him in the face, trying to read his intentions. Also because there wasn't much of a choice otherwise.

His jaw was broad and hyper-masculine beneath the thickness of his well-kept beard, thin lips tight and pursed. The dark stubble of his bald head told me he'd have a widow's peak if he let it grow out. The heavy brow and strong cheek bones were stern, made of stone. The vague suggestion of crow's feet at the corners of his narrow, fathomless eyes told me he wasn't always this terrifying.

He caught me with those concrete eyes, black beneath bushy, gray-flecked brows. The strangely warm butterflies returned to the pit of my stomach despite it all. I'd been in the presence of authority figures before, but nothing like this. Only my father, grandfather, uncles – teachers, professors, the dean – but never a cop. Somehow, even in my youthful ignorance, I knew it was more than that. Something about the way he was looking at my face, studying it. Drinking me in.

My hands tightened into useless fists behind my back.Violent, unnerving scenarios began to play out inside of my head, each more sexual than the last. I could knee him in the balls – maybe – but mostly all I could hope to do was run. Not that I'd get far – but why was I thinking like this? He was a cop. He even had a body-cam attached to his shirt. He was going to do anything to hurt me...right?

“I could arrest you. You could go to prison. You know that?” His voice hit me like a blast wave at this close range, reverberating in my chest almost pleasantly. That feeling was quickly gone when the words themselves sank in. “You just tried to bribe an officer of the law, boy. That's a felony. One year in a state prison – at least. You understand how serious this is?”

I nodded, the picture of shame, and my eyes darted away from his. Back to the ground below. Trying not to burst into tears. My heart beat faster beneath his palm, approaching panic. I could feel his eyes on me still, burning into me. “And I know which one they'd send you to. It's not a happy place. A nice-looking, blue-eyed college boy like you wouldn't do well in there, you understand? Especially with an ass like yours.”

I nodded again –wait,what? What did he just say?

I glanced at his face again. He caught my eyes and held them. He looked angry, but there was no hate or loathing in him. I felt like I was getting chewed out by my father. But my father wouldn't have such an odd hunger in his gaze, and he certainly wouldn't have said…

I looked away once more, blushing deeply. The fear, the dread, the helplessness – and the strange sense that came from knowing he'd indeed been looking at – no, appreciating my ass – all of it clashed chaotically in my brain and my stomach and everywhere else. I had no idea what I was feeling at that point.

“You've got two choices now, boy. I'll make them real clear. Choice number one: I can write you a hefty speeding ticket and take you in for attempting to bribe an officer of the law – all of which I have here on this handy body-cam.” He tapped the boxy camera that was strapped to his broad chest. “It'd be plenty fair, and legal, and you'd fuckin deserve it. It'd also knock you right out of that fancy college and into prison. Not many folks can put their lives back together after something like that.”

The tears were back, flowing freely as my face tightened against the grief. I couldn't do it...I couldn't handle that…

“Choice number two: You make good on that offer you were giving me. You do that, and I'll forget any of this ever happened. You can go back to your life of drinking with your buddies and fuckin pretty little college girls – or whatever it is you like to do. But only if you stick to your word. Otherwise I've got everything I need to put you away for years – all it'd take is a little bit of uh...embellishment on my part. You may not know this, boy, since you're not from around here, but I'm the most respected cop in Metter.” He pounded my chest like a drum to emphasize this. “I own that town. Even this bit of highway. My word is the fuckin law here, and then some.” His hand had landed lower on my chest, more toward the left. His thumb was on my nipple, still hard from the cold beneath my shirt. I instinctively tried to smack his hand away, arms flexing behind me as the handcuffs held firm.I blushed, totally embarrassed, but he didn't seem to notice any of this.I had to be imagining this...

I swallowed, and somehow found my voice. “You're saying that...if I do – what, community service or something? You'll let me off?” My mind was reeling, not daring to feel relief. This was my chance – probably my only chance, and the only light there would ever be at the end of this tunnel. Get ahold of yourself, man...

“Sure. Community service. You could call it that. But nothing official, you understand? It'd be at my discretion. No one else's. Actually...no one else would even know.”

The thumb at my nipple began to move, doing its best to erase all doubt. It rubbed firmly around the edge of my hidden nipple, and then...flicked the tip. A jolt of electricity shot from his thumb down my spine, and straight into my crotch. Something stirred.

I jerked beneath his hand, a sharp inhale hissing in past my teeth. My stress-addled mind still refused to put two and two together. “What're you doi– ”

“I'm giving you a choice, boy. Prison, or...this.”

His other hand appeared at my hip, snaking its way up beneath my shirt. I gasped at this new and awful sense of intrusion, something I'd only ever imagined happening to somebody else. His fingers were cold on the skin of my stomach, but they didn't stay that way for long. They crept up the tense flesh of my flat belly, across my sternum, and into the patch of dark hair between the meat of my pecs. My thin shirt lifted up around his forearm, cold air rushing across my belly and my flanks. He was feeling me upright there in the open, blatant and fearless.

I stood stiffly, unbelieving, caught between his groping hands and the smooth, frozen bulk of his car. I finally noticed that the red recording light of his body-cam wasn't on – and probably hadn't been for some time. This couldn't be happening! Cops couldn't just do this, gay or not! I hadn't sent him any signals – I wasn't queer! I'd never let a guy touch me, not once in my life…

The hand above my shirt left my heaving chest and moved up across my collar bone, until he was holding the back of my neck in a vice-like grip. The feel of his leathery hand against the bare flesh of my neck sent tingling ripples across my skin, up my spine, into my brain. He held me firmly in place, broad fingers slowly massaging the tense muscles at the base of my skull. It felt good. Really good.

The hand beneath my shirt slid across my chest and fondled my other pec, rough fingers tracing my nipple there, sending fresh jolts of strange pleasure directly to my groin. There was no shirt between my perked teat and his fingers this time – only the feel of his hands on my skin. I shuttered against it, my mind appalled while my body reached a state of curious, sickening arousal, like a machine that had been turned on. “This is...uh...this is illegal, officer...” How did I sound so weak?

He didn't respond. He was watching my face with his intense black eyes, studying every grimace, every gasp, utterly engrossed. His hands, I realized, weren't just molesting my body – they were also observing my reactions to their lewd, unwanted ministrations, down to the smallest twitch of tendon or dart of the eye. He was enjoying me the way I would enjoy a girl in my bed, getting her worked up and wet...holding her down, flicking her nipples, feeling her up...making her squirm and moan like a bitch in heat. My cock was... It was…

I moaned as he played with my nipples under the shirt, bringing them both to full attention, sharp and impossibly sensitive against the shifting fabric. It wasn't the weak, airy moan of a horny chick. It was low and grumbling, reedy and humiliated. I couldn't help it – I'd never had anyone play with my nipples before. My body – even my voice – was betraying me. My hands clenched tightly behind my back, ever-useless in the handcuffs. I'd never felt more vulnerable in my life. Whatever control I imagined I had was quickly dissipating.

I know the moan turned him on, because he immediately pressed his crotch into my thigh. It was pulsing with heat, hard and long through my denim jeans and the stiff fabric of his uniform. The very real threat of prison, along with his grip on my neck, kept me from escaping – but I at least tried to jerk my hips away from what was obviously his very erect penis. He simply pushed his knee into my crotch and pressed down with his hips, pinning my lower half against the door of the car with the weight of his body and the muscles of his thighs. This arched my back, involuntarily pushing the meat of my pecs up into his roaming, hungry hand – which only made it hungrier. Bolder.

“Nice,” he breathed, mostly to himself. He leaned in, the stubble of his head pressing against the stubble of my jaw, the rough hair of his beard scraping against my exposed throat. His moist lips parted as his tongue snaked out and pressed against the rapid pulse of my carotid artery, bathing it in the heat of his lungs.

I tightened in his grip as he did this, letting out a confused “Hahhh-ahhhgh!” as his tongue and lips explored my throat. He wasn't kissing me so much as devouring me. I was finally realizing how much he wanted me – no tricks, no traps, no mind games. This was absolute lust, of a breed far more powerful and primordial than that of any nymph-like college girl. I had no idea what to do with it, how to combat it, if that were even possible – if I wanted it to be possible, or if I wanted the excuse to let the intense warmth of his horny body envelope me, and protect me from the frigid winter air that nipped and snapped at the edges of the experience...

My nerve endings fired and convulsed as he played them like a fiddle, nipples to neck. I squirmed in his grip, gasping and panting, trying to keep my head clear and failing utterly. He began to rub the length of his stiff cock against my thigh, pressing his own thigh into my groin. I knew I should feel discomfort with his knee crunching against my aching balls, but instead my crotch felt...numb? Tight…?

He pulled back, leaving my neck cold and wet with his spit. The hand at my nipple slid down my chest, back across the light fur of my belly. My hips jerked as he impatiently unbuckled my belt – and shoved his hand down the front of my jeans.

My entire body twisted between my neck and thighs and the handcuffs around my wrists, doing everything it could to avoid the invasion – but I wasn't going anywhere. “What the fu – stop!”

He ignored me. His eyes were on mine, watching the panic ripple across my face as his big warm hand shoved my boxers down past the little bulge of my ballsack, hooking them below – and then closed around my cock. It wasn't fully erect, but it was more than close enough to horrify me.

It grew to fullness in seconds as his hand squeezed it hotly, lustily. “Oh yeah boy...I love an uncut cock on a hot young buck...” His thumb rubbed against the glans of my cock beneath the loose sheath of velvety foreskin, slippery-hot precum bubbling out of the piss slit and lubricating everything as it did, easier for him to make me want it.

“Please stop, man...” I whined. It was a genuine plea, but we both knew why I was begging – and it wasn't because I wanted him to stop. “It's not me...not my fault...”

“Give me a fuckin break, boy.” There was a sharp popping sound as the button of my jeans snapped open. I watched in a wide-eyed stupor as he bullied my cock out of my pants, splitting the zipper halfway open with his wrist as he did. The head of my cock emerged between his gripping fingers, a lewd and roaring pink that glistened with thick precum beneath the pale, velvety sheath of my foreskin.

“Fuck, boy...this thing is fuckin perfect. You're perfect. Fat pink dick...natural as rain...” If I could have willed my cock soft, I would have – but my body wasn't following my orders any more. It was following his.Don't suck it...please don't suck it...The thought of his mouth down there only made me harder.

His hand left the back of my neck. Between the cuffs and his crushing weight and the things he was doing to my cock...even if I'd wanted...even if I'd been able to...I didn’t try it. Didn't even think it. Whatever it would have been.

He knew I'd given up, at least for the time being. He pulled my t-shirt up and shoved it over and behind my head, its black fabric pulling tightly across my straining shoulders and digging into my armpits.The frosty air washed over my uncovered body and down into my open, drooping jeans. With a single move he'd completely exposed the entirety of my long, pale torso to the cold bite of the afternoon (and to him...). My body was lean and fit, stronger and hairier than most guys my age. However – in that moment, cradled helplessly against such a massive bear of an older man – my young, well-toned frame was no longer powerful, so much as it was...elegant.

Before I could even begin to feel humiliated, he grabbed the top of my jeans with both hands and yanked them down below my waist, splitting the zipper open completely as my pants flew off my naked hips. Only their tight fit on my thick thighs stopped them from dropping all the way to my ankles – not that it made much difference. My boxers were still stretched down and bunched up between the small bulge of my fuzzy pink ballsack. Above them was my cock, lewdly engorged and leaking at its pink tip, which was now half-unsheathed as the size of my bulging erection stretched the soft skin of my thick, seven-inch cock to its limit. It blushed in its wild bed of dark brown pubic hair, which I hadn't bothered to trim in over a month. I'd have been mortified if a girl had seen it like that, but this...this was a whole new universe. My cock throbbed like a beacon beyond the pale expanse of my naked body.

His hands were on me immediately, wide and greedy and hungry for all of me. Their hard friction over the exposed skin of my chest, stomach, hips, and cock kept me both warm and cold, wriggling mutely against the extremes of sensation that danced across my naked form in the wake of his selfish desire.His heat grew as he leaned against me, taking my small pink nipple into his mouth with a husky growl – nibbling it, tonguing it, drowning it in wet heat.

“Hhaha – ah, Jesus!” I hissed breathlessly, but that was all I could say. I writhed mightily against it – or because of it – and would have fallen out of his mouth, if his arm hadn't snaked its way behind my back. He held my body against his mouth, the sleeve of his uniform tickling my ribs, the rest of it warming me where his body embraced mine. He covered my left pec with his gripping hand, nipple and all, while his mouth devoured the other whole like a sweet, ripe berry.

I tried to breath, and barely succeeded. It was shallow, mindless, steady. I felt like a trapped animal. I couldn't think beyond the electric bolts that were shooting throughout my body every time his tongue had its way with my nipple. I heard myself moan. It was weak, airy. Like a chick.

This seemed to satisfy him, if only for a moment. He took his mouth off my inflamed nipple and rested his head against my chest. It was larger now, redder and wetter and warmed only by the cop's steaming breath as he watched my pale, blushing body tremble against the dark blue of his uniform.I could feel my heart hammering against the scatchy skin of his cheek.“I love your body, boy...I like you hairy like this...but not hairier than me, no sir. Just enough...skin like cream...fuckin perfect...” His voice and his praise had a strange, intoxicating effect that was slowly leaking into me. I was drawn in by it, drunk on it, caring less about how naked I was,how much of me he was getting to know so intimately...

His thigh pushed up into the small of my back, arching it forward. This stretched my stomach out to meet his free hand as it explored my body. Its rough pads and bold fingers followed the trail of dark brown hair that ran from the patch on my chest, down to the place where it thickened below my navel...then straight into my unkempt pubes and the welcoming cradle of my hips. He fondled the quaint bulb of my scrotum – squeezed it once, hard, to make me flinch – before closing around the hard shaft of my cock, making me moan from the sheer physical manipulation, a pleading sound –

An engine shrieked as a car sped by on the highway behind us. He stopped molesting me for a moment, and then the strength of his hand returned to my neck, holding it tight as before. He stood up, pressing his body against my naked hips, once again pinning me to his car. It was as if he'd woken up from a wet dream, and he wasn't the only one.

I was in shock.This was far beyond indecent, or embarrassing, or sinful. There I was, on the side of a public highway,where anybody could see me. I was practically naked in public – the stuff of nightmares to me, most of my life – and, to make it worse, I was pinned and helpless with a fully-clothed man's hand around my hard, swollen cock. It was still leaking, betraying me even now.Anyone who saw us in that position would have no reason to believe I was being assaulted. They'd take one look at my cock, listen to my heavy, horny breathing, and they'd know exactly how much I was enjoying it. I felt the spreading heat of my blushing shame as my face turned beet red, catching a miserable groan in my throat.

He was smirking, and I knew exactly why. “So what's it going to be then, college boy? I know what you're gonna say, but I gotta hear you say it. You can have debt to the state, and prison. Or...” His warm hand squeezed my cock and cupped the modest pouch of my balls, drifting lower into the tight heat beneath… “Or, you can let me fuck you. For one tiny little weekend. That's it.Forty-eight hours, instead of years of your life. One or the other, though. Now choose.”

A huge truck roared by on the highway not twenty feet behind me. The cab was tall enough to catch a glimpse of the uniformed cop bent over my aroused, naked body, if the driver had been looking our way. Considering the fact that the cop's still-flashing lights were the only thing of interest on the empty highway, he'd probably seen plenty.“What the fuck...” I whispered desperately, staring up into the gray sky as I tried to wrap my mind around the insanity of what was happening to me.

The cop's hand pushed my boxers aside and sank beneath my pelvis, arm hair ticking my inner thighs as his knee spread them, my shrinking ballsack smashed by the meat of his forearm. I could feel his finger tracing my taint to where it met the crack of my ass, pushing the sweaty hair aside, searching…

“Fucking stop it! Let me think – fuck, man – STOP IT!”

“Shut up.” The grip on the back of my neck clamped down painfully.

Another car rolled by in the truck's wake, filling my nose with exhaust. I jerked and bucked against his body and the handcuffs, all too aware that his cock was getting even harder against my thigh, but it was no use. His finger had found it: the tight, virgin pucker of my asshole. My mind reeled as he traced the tight ring of muscle, teasing the middle, pushing up against the filthy, forbidden closeness of it…

“HELP!” I shouted. My cock was shrinking even as his work below pushed my hips up to meet him, legs spread wide like a whore's. “Get off me! I'm straight, man – I'm fucking straight!”

“Shut the fuck up, boy.” He wasn't smiling anymore. His face became colder, angrier, the more I resisted.“Liking titties don't have shit to do with this. It's the easiest choice you'll ever make.You'd know that, if you'd seen all the shit I've seen over the years. Not gonna let you pussy out of this...not before you get your head on straight...”His finger was kneading with a steady rhythm now, insistent and free of any real resistance. He could puncture me at his whim.

“I'm telling you now, boy – whatever I give you won't be shit compared to what you'd get in prison.This ass is all virgin. Cherry, they'd call it. You've got a nice face, pretty blue eyes, and you're in good shape – so you'll get noticed real, real quick. Same day you arrive, probably. You'll be washing yourself, or bending over to fluff your pillow, and then –”

A sudden sharp pain lanced up into my ass as he shoved his thick, dry,calloused finger inside of it. My sphincter instantly caved in and gave way to the force before tightening around the middle, burning and twitching.

I shrieked – from the surprise as much as the pain – but he'd already covered my mouth with his other hand. The highway was empty and quiet. He glowered into my wide eyes as I whimpered into his palm. “Some big tough son of a bitch is going to take this cherry, as rough as he wants,and he won't care how much you beg him not to. He won't use any lube either – but his cock'll be a hell of a lot bigger than my middle finger. Think about that.”

His finger began to work its way deeper despite the tightness and my muffled protests. Before long he was pumping it, slowly, in and out of my virgin ass. Everything I had was clenching against it, trying to lock him out, but it kept stabbing into me. In and out. The pain was keen, impossible to ignore. He was making his point.

“He'll use you up and spit you out. There won't be any sucking on your titties, or kissing up your neck. Just you, getting your shitter torn open. And if you pop a stiffy like you're doing with me? He won't like it, like I do.He'll beat you into a fuckin coma. Might even kill you.That's rape, boy. But it won't stop there...”

The pain in my ass was growing, as was his speed. I was beginning to get desperate, terrified that it would never end. He only glared into my face. His strange, fatherly warmth was long gone, replaced by a calm, sadistic delight that danced like gunfire in the black pools of his eyes.

“All kinds of savage swill line up to tear into this ripe young ass. Mouth, too. They'll fill your guts up with diseased filth from both ends. They'll rape you up and down, every fuckin day, for a year or three, while all your flaky little college friends forget you ever existed. You'll be working at a gas station the rest of your life after all that, probably letting truckers fuck you raw in the bathroom just to get your fix. Don't even doubt it, boy. One weekend with a cock in you might make a big impression, but if you get your ass fucked that hard, for that long – you'll start craving it before they're done with you. It's all you'll think about whenever your pretty dick gets hard.Not girls, not pussies. Just cocks in your ass. You want that? No man wants that...not a real man...you're gonna be a real man, yeah...I'm gonna make sure of it...”

He was really pummeling my hole by then, in and out, shredding it raw. I was panting into his palm, angry and afraid – but I'd heard him. I was sober and clear-headed, the most I'd been since the beginning of this whole ordeal. I understood him perfectly – but I couldn't tell him that with his hand crushing my mouth shut –

“A weekend with me isn't looking all that bad now, is it?” he growled into my neck, sniffing deeply, stirring my ass with his stiff, thick finger. It was agony, but it was also...

I shook my head vigorously against his hand, giving him a muffled “Nophf!” I wanted him out of me. I wanted my clothes back on. Wanted it all to stop.

His finger abruptly left my ass – though it stayed poised against the swollen pucker, at the ready. He took his hand away from my mouth after one final, pained squeal. “Gotta hear you say it. You've gotta give me your word.” His eyes held mine, deathly serious. His breath smelled minty and stale against my face, but its heat and its wetness was somehow intoxicating when the rest of the world was cold and dead. “Tell me.”

“Yes,” I choked. “I'll let you – I'll do it. Whatever you want, okay? I'll let you do it.”

He shook his head, teasing my inflamed hole with his fingertip, threatening to bust it open again. “Say. It.”

“I choose you. One weekend. Whenever you want. I'll let you fuck me.” My voice wasn't my own, just some hollow echo ricocheting off the glass of empty skyscrapers.

“However I want.”

“However you want.”

“As many times as I want.”

“As many times as you want. For one weekend.”

He laughed at that, eyes smiling again. “Good boy.”

I quivered under his hands at those words, and the quiver turned into all-out trembling fit that would not let up. He held my body against him until the trembling passed, one hand planted firmly against the small of my back, the other engulfing my limp cock and shrinking balls,engulfing them in a protective heat against the constant bite of the cold.My cock had been soft since he'd forced his finger into me, but now it twitched against his palm. He finally had me, and he knew it.

I began to cry quietly, head hung low, defeated.I never had a chance.

He slipped his arms between my arms and my hips, pulling me off the car and into his body in an intimate, if awkward, embrace. His hard body was as firm and unyielding as an oak tree beneath the starched layers of his ruffled blue uniform, and it radiated heat from its core that warmed me in the cold, dry air. He smelled of sweat, fabric softener, musk,department store cologne...

I only had seconds to wonder if I was enjoying this before he'd opened the back door of his cruiser and whipped me around, my jeans falling down below my knees. He yanked them up around my ass, grabbed me by my handcuffed wrists, and pushed me into the back of the cruiser face first. My knees hit the seat, and I fell forward onto cracked old leather that was only technically soft. Terror filled me as I realized he might want to put his cock in my ass already. I shouldn't have agreed to this...

“D – don't do it – please!” I begged. The weight of my loose belt was steadily pulling my jeans down the curve of my rear,threatening to expose me all over again – and in a far more perilous position than before. “Not like this...”I wriggled away from him as he climbed in behind me through the open door, though I knew it was pointless by then. Still, I had to try. I had to know I'd tried.

“Calm down, boy. I'm not gonna fuck you yet. Not here.” He grabbed my hips and forced them up towards his body, putting me on my knees with my ass in the air. Same thing I'd do to a chick. “Just getting a little down payment to hold me over,” he said, voice quavering with enjoyment. “Think of it as a preview. For both of us.”

My loose jeans and boxers were yanked down to my bent knees seconds later,exposing my naked ass to the frigid air. I whimpered into the seat cushion, expecting the worst, readying myself for the world-ending pain of his cock splitting me open without mercy or remorse.

“Oh, boy...that's even nicer than I thought it'd look.” He pushed my crumpled t-shirt up my body, all the way up to my armpits, before running his hands down my sides, enjoying my powerless figure at his leisure. “Fuck, I love your body boy. You work out just hard enough, I'd say.” I was shivering violently beneath his fingers, and it wasn't because of the cold. “Whatever you do, though – don't ever lose this gorgeous fat ass you've got...it'd be a fuckin crime against nature...”

His hands were on my big, meaty ass cheeks seconds later, spreading them to expose my wincing hole. I felt his thumbs tickling the dark hair that ringed my hole, caressing the trembling valley of my ass as if it were a purring cat.

I clenched and unclenched my knuckles in the cuffs mere inches above his plundering hands, completely at his mercy. I knew he was looking at every square inch of my bare ass, and obviously enjoying it – the large, muscled mounds of my gluts, the smooth, pale skin and its every blemish, the dusting of dark fur on each cheek, and the pink hole itself as it winked in fear. I'd never shaved it, or waxed it, but I'd definitely been curious enough to lock the door of my room and spread my legs in front of a mirror. I'd liked it then, as a horny high school kid – knowing it looked good enough for a chick to run her tongue over it like they did in porn, among other things. But this...

I'd never been a jock, or even much of a player with the ladies, but I'd always been unquestionably masculine. Hairy enough to make other guys jealous in high school, but not enough to scare off the girls. A naturally handsome guy who liked to work out and fuck chicks, in respectable moderation of course. Sometimes I even felt like a man...but I knew I was the farthest thing in the world from any of that to this cop. To him I was just a plaything. Something to be fucked. My hard cock twitched beneath me.

 “Hold still, now.” he ordered. I heard him spit, wet and heavy. A hot gob of mucus landed in the crack of my ass, quickly dribbling into my open hole. Warming it. Oh God...

His finger appeared there, coated with more of his spit. Slick with it. His free hand was gripping the meat of one ass cheek, both fondling it and keeping it out of his way. I clenched my ass as he pushed into it again, but he ignored the resistance and he shoved his spit into my body. He ignored my mewling protest just as easily as all the rest.

He coated the sides of my helpless rectum with hot wet goo, fucking it lightly up to the first knuckle. There was certainly a dull hurt, but nothing even close to the sharp pain of his earlier abuse. My hole quickly adjusted to it, thanks to the spit, and I didn't know whether I should feel relieved or ashamed.

His finger slid in and out of me, easier each time, until it slid in – and kept going. My ass was alive around it in seconds, pulsing and shuddering with a mind of its own before I could gain control of my muscles again, clenching up to no avail.

I tried a desperate change of tactics against him before he could bottom out. I pushed my hole against his finger instead of closing it, as if I could somehow shit it out. With a flinch and a gasp, I quickly learned that this move only opened my body to him, making his job even easier. “Yeah – just like that boy...just like that...you got it...”

I clenched again to spite him, slowing his process and increasing my own pain – but I couldn't just let him take me. Because then he wouldn't be taking me at all. I stayed quiet, telling myself he wouldn't get any further moans or gasps or tears from me. I wouldn't like it anymore. Not today.

His finger bottomed out seconds later. It felt...strange. I bit my lip. I hated the raw violation of it all, but every part of my body was alert, every nerve ready to receive sensation of any kind and react accordingly. And this...this felt good.

The finger left slowly, my ass squeezing around it.Kissing it as it left. I bit my lip to avoid groaning in sheer mortification, but then it returned – with a second finger. They both began to push into me.

“No – come on man, one was enough! ENOUGH!” I jerked my ass away from his fingers, but his thighs were wrapped around my knees, smashing them together and holding me in place. I tried to push my body forward, but my head was already crammed against the door of the car, and my hands were still cuffed behind my back. I tried to clench my ass shut, but he was too strong. They kept pushing into me.I could feel my ass stretching around them even as I clenched it shut. “STOP!” My voice was shrill, frantic, not my own.

His free hand slapped my ass cheek – hard. Hard enough to distract me from his fingers as I cried out at the blinding pain of it.

That was all the opening he needed. He shoved them all the way in –three of them now, stretching, stretching – deep down towards my guts. He was bending them slightly at the base of my cock, pressing into me, into a place no one had ever touched me, or –

Something lit up inside of me, deep down where his fingers were concentrating their assault. My stretched asshole quaked around his knuckles, and I groaned throatily into the seat cushion as everything below my stomach seemed to melt. Couldn't even keep that promise to myself…

“You feel that?” I heard him say. His voice was made thin by the haze of pleasure and pain that was crowding my vision along with my brain. “That's what I'm gonna give to you. You wouldn't get that in prison boy, not ever. I don't just want to cum in you...I want you hot for it.And I'll get you there, too...you'll see. You'll see.”

He was pumping his fingers deep into me now, slowly and firmly, and it was enough to finally convince me. I was panting into the seat, fresh sweat pouring out of my armpits and down the crack of my ass. I could feel my ass lifting to meet his probing fingers and his hot breath, though I wasn't telling it to. I had no control at that point. None at all. I could feel my cock bobbing, hard beneath my hips and fully engorged. A searing river of precum was working its way down my shaft, leaking from the head of my cock and spattering against the seat of his car as he turned me out with his hands.This didn't matter – nothing did.God – it's too much – he's hitting – something – rubbing it – like a – clit – it feels – I want – more – 

I groaned loudly, angrily – lustily – helpless in my bonds. I wanted so desperately to jack myself off, to cum so hard with this – feeling – pushing me open inside. His free hand left my ass and reached under my hips, where it wrapped around my very large, very erect cock.

I nearly came then, but he'd stopped finger-fucking me. I could feel my tortured hole working itself around his knuckles, as if it could coax him back into fucking it.

“You want me to keep going?” he asked with a grin in his voice, hot breath washing over my ass and the small of my back. He squeezed my cock – every so slightly – and I felt another drop of hot precum glob at the tip. I could only imagine what he was seeing back there, how angry and red and stretched my clenching hole must have been around his fingers. I didn't care, either. He'd seen all of it. What was done was done. But...what wasn't done…

“Yes,” I wheezed, and instantly hated myself for it.

“What was that, boy?” His grip dug into the base of my cock, making it harder than it had ever been – hard to the point of pain, begging to be saved.

I gasped, wriggling my hips, my ass – pushing back to meet him. “Yes!” I grunted, sinking into shame. “Yes – keep going. Please!”

“Please do what?”

 “Please make me come...like that...” I couldn't have said anything else.

“Oh, it gets so much better than that, bucky-boy.” He laughed softly, but it was a sound as lewd as it was affectionate, just like all the rest of him. “Keep talking to me. You like the way I'm turning you out? You like the way your ass feels right now?” His fingers were kneading, stirring, teasing.

“Yes,” I whimpered. Begging him with my voice. It was unimaginably pathetic, and not a thing I'd ever thought myself capable of doing, but I didn't care. There was nothing beyond the car. My world had become nothing but the sum of what he was doing to my body, and the total need for him to finish his work.

“How about four fingers? The whole package. I could go a lot deeper...”

I was breathless at the thought of it. The pain of that was nothing compared to the aching pleasure that had followed, and the thought of having even more of him punching into...that place…

I nodded, perhaps too far too readily.

“That settles it,then.” He squeezed my cock and bent it slightly in his grip, making me grunt. “You may be straight, college-boy, but you're gonna love having my cock fuck your ass. I'm gonna give you some time to think about what the real thing is gonna feel like. Get you nice and worked up for it.”

His hand left my hard cock hanging, wiping the excess precum against my bare ass cheek to dry. I didn't want to believe he was done already. He pulled his fingers from me then, leaving my hole empty and swollen and stretched. I heard myself moan. It sounded disappointed. I wanted – I needed to feel his fingers inside of me again, fucking that sweet spot until I came. I'd never entertained the idea of having something in my ass until it was actually there, and now it was the only thing on my mind – as if the rest of the experience hadn't been a form of exotic psychological torture beyond any excuse or redemption. “But...” I heard myself say.

“We're done for now, boy. I've got places to be.” He slapped my ass one more time, even harder than before, and the pain brought me out of my lust-infused haze. My thoughts came crashing back into my conscious mind, flooding me with dread and shame and all the potent “what-ifs” of the day.

He pulled my t-shirt back over my head and carefully worked it down the length of my torso. I felt his hands on my belt again, pulling my boxers and jeans up over my aching ass and whatever marks he'd left on it, until any sign of the lewd acts he'd forced on me was hidden beneath blue denim and black cotton. He bent over me and pressed his hard, uniformed body into mine as he stuffed my swollen cock back into my boxers and zipped up my jeans. I got to smell him again, and this time I knew I liked it – loved it. Wanted it.

My cock got even bigger before he finally managed to button up my jeans around it. I felt his beard and his smile as he kissed the back of my neck, making me shiver like mad.“Don't worry, stud...I'm gonna miss you too...”

In moments I was gently hauled from the back of his cruiser and pulled to my feet. The day was growing dim as the hidden sun sank deeper into the cloud cover, reminding me of all the miles I still had to drive before I'd be back in the plastic world of college life, where I was already coming up with ways to pretend that none of this had ever happened.

The cop brushed me off, straightened my t-shirt before his hands sank lower. I tensed, readying myself – but he was only closing my belt. My hips jerked towards him as he yanked the strap through the buckle, taking his time to feed it through the belt loops around my waist. “I got your cell number when I looked up your license,” he said casually as he worked. He shoved my license and insurance back into my pocket, tracing the wide mounds of my ass it left.“I'll contact you with everything you'll need to know. You'll be coming to see me, okay? I've got a house all set up for this sort of thing. How's that sound?”

I only nodded, slumped against his car, arms aching behind my back.

He came in close and pressed the thick meat of his hairy forearm into my throat. Not choking me, but coming close – and bringing my eyes up to meet his. “I'm serious about this, Michael.”My stomach dropped as his gravely voice said my name – but of course he'd seen my driver's license. “I expect you to keep your part of the deal. Even if you start thinking that facing the music won't be so bad in the end, remember this: I know where you live. I know the cops where you live, and they'll believe anything I tell them about you. And I know for a fact that more than a few of them would just love to teach you a lesson about slandering a fellow officer of the law...a hard, nasty lesson.”

He grinned, teeth wide and mostly white. His hand was at my sore ass, squeezing it through my jeans where he'd slapped it, sending a quake up and down my spine. “But I wouldn't like that any more than you would. I'd rather have you all to myself. Besides, I don't think it'll come to that. I bet you'll be thinking about me all week. I know I'll be thinking about you...”

He let me go and pulled me off the car. He stepped behind me, and with a metallic click the handcuffs were gone. My arms hung limp for a moment before I remembered how to use them. I brought them up, rubbing my wrists. I heard a car door slam shut, heard the engine roar to life, and then he was gone in a cloud of exhaust fumes. I looked up, watching the blue police cruiser disappear into the darkening clouds, headed east.

My ass was still aching, inside and out.My boxers were soaked through with precum. My cock was still hard, still throbbing and pleading for someone to end it all. I knew it wouldn't matter how much I jacked off.Nothing would ever come close to what his fingers had done to me, and I'd be left dissatisfied in the extreme. Something had changed inside of me. A flip had been switched, but I didn't know it yet. Couldn't process it.

Soon enough I was back to wallowing in self pity, running over the evil details of my assault as I drove back to the dorm sitting in a pool of my own drying seed. No matter how many times I repeated the events of the afternoon in my mind – willing myself to feel anger or disgust, trying to convince myself I'd truly been raped in the end – it always came back to the same place. His fingers – three of them – fucking deep into my deliciously stretched ass. A crushing tides of pleasure pulsing from deep inside my guts with each studied punch of his knuckles, growing more and more intense until I thought I was losing my mind...and then I did…

It was dark by the time I arrived back at campus.I'd had plans that night, but I couldn't remember what they were. I parked my car at my dorm and grabbed my overnight bag, keeping my head down as I rushed inside, totally convinced that anyone who looked would see the sex and submission all over me.

I ignored my roommate and went straight into the bathroom we shared, where I threw myself into a hot shower. I needed his smell off of me. I needed his fingers inside of me. I came three times in the shower, explosive blasts that covered the walls and nearly made me black out. I even fingered myself for two of them, but it wasn't the same. I couldn't find that spot again. I had too much control, and no leverage to go deep enough. I wanted his muscles to hold me down again, wanted his black eyes to watch me cum and feel nothing but carnal lust. I wanted to smell him...

My roommate beat on the door before long. He needed to brush his teeth he said, but I could tell he knew was I was doing in there. A fresh wave of embarrassment swept over me, making my cock hard yet again. I was still horny when I want to bed, ready to pass out from sheer mental exhaustion. I did just that, eventually...but not before my phone lit up with an incoming text from a blocked number.

Hey there college boy. Friday. One week. Fair warning. Let me know you got this.

Got it, I typed with trembling fingers. I went to sleep with a fresh, aching erection that I didn't dare touch. I dreamed of being filled with warm mineral water. With hot bacon grease. With the giant, veiny cock of a broad, leering monster covered in warm black fur...