Message-ID: <23215asstr$953331002@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Message-ID: <20000317180523.3799.qmail@web6005.mail.yahoo.com> From: Tara Welles MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Subject: {ASSM} "Departmental Property" (M/MMM, CBT, Bondage, NC, Hum) Date: Fri, 17 Mar 2000 17:10:02 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: newsman, dennyw Departmental Property (M/MMM, Bondage, CBT, NC, Hum) by BearTrainer beartrainer@hotmail.com ----------------------------------------------- Part One - Testing Phase It didn't take Officer Daniel Thurston long to figure out what had happened once he came to. The lieutenant had briefed them all just last week about the rash of "roofie rapes" going on in the bars around town, but little did Danny suspect why it was that he was now here, handcuffed and tied tightly to an oak desk chair, in the dark, in what sounded like a large warehouse. The last thing he remembered was a couple of swigs of beer at the TomCat, him and his closest buddies on the force. Up to that point, it had been Danny's night to remember-a long departmental awards dinner in which he received Rookie of the Year, the culmination of a month of media coverage, his tall, handsome, lean, butch picture plastered everywhere, hailed by everyone, after having saved those three kids from the gunman in the bank during the hold-up he single-handedly thwarted. They wanted to continue the party-was it last night? last week?-but he realized, with his throbbing head and vague memories, that someone else had other plans for him. "The hero, bound for glory" a voice said behind him. "Bet you are feeling at the top of your game now, aren't you, Officer Thurston." Danny remembered his training and stayed calm. "Where am I?" he asked coolly. "Where we want you." The man behind him walked about a bit, pacing back and forth, his heels echoing in the cavernous space. "And you believe you will get away with this?" The man laughed. "Officer Thurston, do you really think everyone in town believes your publicity? Come now." "Does this have to do with the hold-up?" The man paused for a long time until Danny felt the man's warm fetid breath on his neck from behind, startling him with its closeness. "Hmm, jumpy! Or as the doctor will undoubtedly put it, responsive. That's good." The man strolled around to the front, where Danny could see him, an ugly smirking hulk of a guy, arms covered in jailhouse tats, every bit the sort of dangerous ex-con that this little town didn't often see, and leaning straight into Danny's face, he struck out his tongue and with a long, obscene gesture of contempt, ran it sloppily up Thurston's face from his chin to his forehead. "I love the taste of young cops, especially when they are covered in flopsweat like you." A door opened at the side of them and though Danny turned to look, it was so dark he couldn't see anything until the second man was practically on top of them, a tall thug with a similar smirk. "Hey Fred, I thought he was going to be all set and ready to go by now. We got a schedule, you know. He is a nice piece of work, though." Danny realized at that point, feeling the two pair of eyes roving over his body that he was sitting in his undershirt and boxers and for all his natural composure, he felt himself begin to shake. "Keep your pants on Tiger. It's only going to take a minute." Fred shucked a knife out of his pocket and with three quick swipes, cut off the shirt and the underwear, holding them up to his nose afterward and breathing deeply. "A fine young animal. Good stock. You can smell it." Tiger shrugged. "So let's get a move on, because if this thing don't work, we are going to take some serious shit." Danny saw him holding a small black box, about the size of a Walkman. "W-what's that?" "You'll see right away," Fred said mockingly, going around Thurston's back again and slowly, licking up the side of his neck, first one side then the other, reaching around and beginning to pluck at the cop's big brown nipples. "You have a lot of friends in the department, Thurstie, especially after all your goodie-goodie stunts in the past month, and well, certain people feel you need to be put in your place." Tiger was staring at the box, fiddling with dials but then began to stupidly stare at Danny's crotch. "You got the ring on, right, Fred?" Fred reached down and with a half-dozen quick sharp slaps, made Danny's cock stand at attention. He held the cop's dick in his hand and flicked his finger against what Thurston could now see was a three-inch wide band of tight black leather studded with metal plates. As his prick swelled, the tight ring trapped the blood inside his cock and it reared up automatically. "You think I'm a fucking asshole. Of course he's got the ring on." All of a sudden, Thurston screamed, a huge jolt of electricity surging into his genitals, his entire body going stiff, making the chair jump inches off the floor. The two goons started to laugh. "Yeah, well, guess that works!" As Fred continued his licking and titplay, Tiger strolled up to Danny and methodically checking the restraints he was in at the wrists, thighs, waist, elbows and shoulders, began to explain. "W-what, w-what, w-what is this?" He mocked. "It is a nifty little combo of taser, vibrator and electronic handcuffs. Don't worry, I'll turn down the volume, don't want to fry your cop prick right away because we need to keep you prime condition." And then the low hum began, coursing with pulses through Thurston's cock and balls. He couldn't help but respond, beginning to pant, feeling the pre-cum begin to flow, trying to keep his hips still, his face impassive, but the pleasure of it was, even at this low level, intense and irresistible. Fred reached down to Danny's prick and hefted it in his hand. "Thurstie likes it! Big old fat cock. That's what we were told, and man they weren't lying. Look at this tool, Tiger. This is a dick that is never going to give up." Humiliated, Danny saw his pride and joy mindlessly wave back and forth in time to the unrelenting stream of radio waves, his thick thighs spread wide, humping Fred's hand involuntarily. "Fuck......fuck........ fuck......" he began to moan pathetically, trying to rub his erection into the rough, uncaring palm. "Hard as a fucking rock, man. Feels like your cock's on fire. You're loving this, aincha, copboy?" Fred kept up a lewd, hoarsely whispered commentary right next to Danny's head, every once in a while sticking his long wet tongue into Thurston's ears, slurping and continuing to jack. "Okay-clear!" said Tiger, and Fred let go of Thurston's cock and stood back as Tiger pushed the button, and with a long whining yelp, the cop felt the seductive vibration harden into a big hard ball of sensation right in the center of his ball sac, exploding out of his nuts and up through his shaft and flared purple cockhead. "Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!" Danny couldn't catch his breath as the most intense orgasm of his life spurted out of him, a spray of semen thick and hard, almost chunky, landing everywhere, his legs, the floor, Tiger's face, the instrument in his hand. It was an orgasm that went on and on and on, as if someone had turned on a pressurized garden hose and sent it coursing through his prick, and after about a minute, both Tiger and Fred started cracking up, watching the cop wracked to the bone with this amazing, artificially induced, never-ending spasm of pleasure. "Shee-it! He is a fucking animal, ain't he now? Doc is going to be very pleased." The world spun around and around, and finally, Dan realized the ejaculation had stopped. It could have been a minute. It could have been an hour. But one thing he did know: he felt no release but only a continued, surging aching pain in his genitals. The merciless vibrations had not abated but had increased to a slightly higher frequency and desperately Thurston realized that the whole cycle was going to begin again right away, and that it was, at this rate, not going to be a leisurely sweet orgasm but another quick, hard, forced cum. In agony, he felt Fred grip the tormented cock and unable to help himself, he screamed. "Oh God, it's so sensitive. Please, please." But the two men wore expressions of crude lust mixed with incredulity. "No way, man. I gotta a get a piece of this, Dannyboy," said Fred, jamming his fingers right up against the flared edge of Thurston's cockhead. "I gotta feel this..." It was no more than a minute when the cop felt that electrical punch to his balls, that gathering knot of sensation and with tears streaming down his handsome face, let out an ungodly shriek of agony as his cock gushed out jism. "No, not again, I can't, not again, not again." This time, Tiger stepped aside and let the fountain of juice arc in a single stream onto the floor, splattering into a puddle, so much semen that it almost looked like the cop was pissing milk. "Man, two measly cums and you are already begging and crying." Tiger placed the wicked box on the floor and folded his arms. "I'm very disappointed in you, officer, Mr. Big Rookie of the Year Hero." Danny looked up at Tiger, his contorted face trying to wring some pity out of his tormentor, but Tiger just threw his head back and guffawed. "You don't get it, Thurston. This little device has a cycle, each level supposedly more intense than the last. Once I push that blast-off button, it ain't in my control." Fred came around to the front at last and began to run his fingers up and down Thurston's ribs, making the cop squirm furiously, his skin soaking wet with exertion, slick and sensitive. "You see, Thurstie, you are a prick. That's all, a prick. And a lot of people think you should know that." He ran his hands up to the cop's pits and dug into the wet fur, making Danny scream with laughter, writhing insanely between the pleasure of the tickling and the searing pressure of his stimulated cock, making the cop yell until finally his voice shredded and nothing more came out, his mouth fixed open in a permanent silent grimace of suffering. He had a magnificent cock, twitching, pulsing, and the third orgasm built hot and fast again, deep in his testicles, Fred's fingers, the relentless vibrations, the endless need transforming the whole universe into a tremendous orgasm. "That's right, piggyboy, shoot it out again!" Fred chuckled viciously as it put his palm out flat in front of Danny's penis and let the jet of cum fly hard against it, making it fly back in gooey drops all over the cop, drenching Thurston's face in his own spunk. Danny was making pathetic sounds, the chair thwacking obscenely as his haunches pumped uselessly against the restraints, drops of jism trembling on the tips of his bloated nipples, running off the end of his nose. What seemed an eternity for Danny Thurston was actually only about 20 minutes or so, and when at last, after 7 or 8 orgasms, the cop's gorgeous busting prick seemed unable to spew even a single drop of juice, the low hum of the device clicked off, and the cop's whole body slumped pitifully into a state of torpor. "So, that's all you got, prick? That's it? A few puddles of seed. And here, you look like such a big fucking stud." Danny's eyes were crusted with dried semen and he pulled them open, croaking out a plea. "I can't. I can't. No more. Please." Tears ran down the cop's face and contemptuously, Tiger wiped a few of them up on the tip of his fingers. "Lemme give you a tip, piglet. You don't want to be wasting any more of your bodily fluids than you gotta. So save the tears, dickman." Part Two - Production Fred shook his head, smirking, and Danny saw him pull something out of his pocket that looked like a stopwatch with a couple of wires hanging off. "I am disappointed in you, Thurston. Me and Tiger were hoping you'd make us a lot of money." He was talking casually as he sauntered over to the hated box on the floor and hooked up the watch. Danny felt a huge jolt of fear run through him. "But it looks like we are going to have to get you in shape." Fred clicked a button and Danny could hear the ticking. "Hear that, fucker? It's a timer. Every fifteen minutes Daddy's little helper is going to switch on and your fat pig prick is going to get all the stimulation it needs to make it start earning its keep. Fifteen minutes rest, fifteen minutes stimulation. That's your life from now on. Get used to it. You are going to be nothing but a goddamn sperm factory from now on." Danny was soaked with flopsweat, breathing heavy with terror and hoping this was a nightmare. But when he looked at his tormentor, he could see Fred was dead serious, and with a yank of his chin, Fred signaled to Tiger, who open a panel underneath Danny's ass. A hole had been cut in the bottom of the chair, and Tiger spread Danny's cheeks from below so his asshole was exposed to the cool air, clenching and releasing still from the previous treatments. "Do it" Fred ordered, and with great pleasure, Tiger began greasing up a huge black dildo, big as a baseball bat but with an inch-thick ridge screwing around it up to the tip. The sound of the dildo lube was revoltingly lewd, a loud liquid thwack-thwack in the silence of the basement, and hearing it, Danny squirmed and tried to protest, but the gag only let him drool down his chest. Tiger laughed. "Once this goes in, baby, it don't come out. See them threads. No way. Can't come out. You are SCREWED. So relax, studman. You'll see what we have planned." The feeling of the huge plug invading him, filling him, stretching his shithole wider and wider gave Danny an involuntary hard-on and he saw Fred scrutinizing him with a leer on his face. Then the blunt head hit Danny's prostate and he screamed. "Fuck, this pig make a lot of noise," Tiger said, and stopping the insertion of the dildo half-way, with a quick gesture, he popped a rubber-ball gag into Danny's open mouth, strapping it around the cop's head securely. "You don't let a man hear himself think, do you, you big fucking whiner." He then went around behind Danny's chair and finished the plug job he had begun on the cop's ass, one end wedged up high into Danny's guts, the other end securely resting on the floor behind the chair, unmoving, unmoveable. "That's it, that's what we want. Nail it down, right there, Tiger." It felt like having a treetrunk up his anus and every time Danny struggled to get off it, straining to get up or push it out, he found his agony increased--eventually he tired and collapsing back down on the dildo with a loud pop like a fart simply made his cock harder and wetter. Fred began masturbating Danny in long leisurely strokes, speaking in a low, seductive voice. "So this is the deal, Thurston. Lots of your buddies think you've just gotten way too fucking big for your shorts, so with their cooperation, we've managed to get ourselves a sweet deal as suppliers for a local lab. They do genetic testing and need live fresh daily sperm for their work. You're going to provide it and we're going to get paid for it. Sure, you're drained now after a few quick cums, but between the constant, regular stimulation of the box and the endless prostate massage we've provided, you'll be producing in no time." Fred increased the speed of his jacking and Danny found his breath quickening, writhing helplessly against the bonds, moaning loudly, letting himself cry, but still wanting to fuck Fred's hand, just to make it stop. "We're told that in about a day or two, after being forced to cum a few hundred times in rapid succession, your cock, balls and prostate will begin to respond by growing in size and capacity, and soon each orgasm will give us a tremendous load. Lots of jism--just what we want. Guy at that lab said by the end of the first week you should be shooting 1/4 cup of cum or more per. . . . And that's what we need--big healthy cumfreak to start pumping out the babyjuice for us. $200 a cup delivered fresh--you can see why you are here." It was Tiger's turn to milk Danny's tits and his touch was rougher and meaner, pinching and pulling them hard, up and out, up and out, up and out, like they were made of rubber. Fred started to double time the jacking. Danny felt himself growing faint from the painful pleasure of it, the humiliation, the permanent changes that were going to be made to him and his life. "So deal with it, Thurston. Get used to being turned into a living sperm factory. Your fat pig prick here is going to be changed into a sperm conduit, your balls are going to get huge, they told me, big, fat and heavy as tennis balls, as they grow extra tubing to accommodate all the cockmilk that your prostate is going to start pumping out for us. Yup, you are going to be a prime piece of meat." Tiger kicked the bat stuck up Danny's ass and he went rigid, like someone had shot a firecracker off in his ass. "Close? Getting close? Want to give us something?" Fred taunted, as Danny's whole body tensed for the ejaculation, his hips bucking the straps automatically, mindlessly, his instinctive need to cum taking over his body. But just when he thought he'd be allowed to go over the edge, Danny found his cock sticking huge and lonely in the middle of the air. Fred had stopped. "Uh, uh, uh. Can't have you just shooting it any old place. Not at $200 per cup." Which was when the two of them presented Thurston with his ultimate degradation--a bright, fire-engine red condom with a long tube at the tip was snapped roughly on his aching peter, and Danny could see the tube running into a jar at his feet. "Time to cum, Thurston. Time to cum." The timer went off with a beep and once again the blinding stimulation again, like a dozen finger tips clawing at his stiff, engorged dick, like a hundred cocks stuck up his ass, banging incessantly against his swollen, tender prostate, like a thousand paddles swatting at his balls. He could think of nothing else, nothing but giving them what they wanted, being able to stop the stimulation by cumming, popping out another load, being the fuckjuice factory they wanted, a huge-dicked slobbering animal kept for experimental purposes. He screamed into the gag when he finally gave into the torture and let another orgasm take over, shaking his whole body like a ragdoll, but as his cock dry-heaved trying uselessly to shoot juice that wasn't there, Tiger and Fred began to laugh. "Hey stud. Looks like you are cumming up short again. Guess you need help. What do you say, Tiger. Should we step it up to 10 minutes?" At first, Danny tried to keep track of the time by counting the cumsessions he was forced to endure, but after Fred and Tiger left, turning down the lights and leaving only an sleazy green light on over by the door, Danny found it impossible to remember--each orgasm slowly took away a little bit more of his mind, a little bit more of his memory, another piece of his identity. Soon he was nothing but his ability to cum, a huge stimulated phallus. He could feel his prostate getting bigger with every hour of torment, plump as a ballon someone had blown up inside him, consequently soon he realized with sickening certainty that indeed Fred and Tiger were right--each orgasm had became a flood of jizz, drained carefully into the red tube condom only to slowly drip into the semenjar at his feet. The condom grew tighter and tighter as Danny felt his prick grow permanently bigger, getting used to the constant erection and responding by swelling even more, a rigid, bright-red 13" prick, thick as his forearm and never relaxed. And his balls were being inexorably enlarged, as well--Danny knew that because he had spread his legs farther and farther to accommodate them, a swollen pair of bullballs jammed against the bottom of his cock, always ready to drained again. Each day ran into the next--the loud tick of the timer, the slow whirr of the box, the indescribable jolting starting from his cock and spreading to his head and feet and then the release, an endless cycle. Before he himself even knew it, Danny began to chant slowly to himself in the dark, "I am nothing but a prick. Nothing but a prick. Nothing but a cumming prick. My cock is my world. My cum is my reason to live." So, when Fred came back and flipped on the light, blinding Danny, he didn't know whether he had been here a day or a year. The gag was finally removed. "Hungry?" Danny nodded dully. "Please. . . ." "Please what, pigman?" Danny gathered his strength and when he opened his mouth, he thought he might ask for food, water, release, mercy, something, but instead, he merely said, "More." Fred looked at him and snickered. "More." He swaggered over to the box. "More?" Danny nodded furiously, drooling, bucking mindlessly against the straps, tongue hanging out. "Yeah. Yeah. More box. Gimme more box. Make me cum. Lots. Jar full. Need more. I'm a prick. I'm a fucking prick. Cum. More box. Please. Please." Fred smiled and decided to have a little fun "What's your name?" Thurston licked his lips and blinked stupidly. "Cock." "Why are you here?" "Cum." "What you want?" "More. More." Thurston stared at the box, then at Fred and then lowered his head and stared his prick in a stupor. "Cum. Cum. Please." Fred smirked and nodded to himself. "We picked ourselves the right man, I see that. And damn if you haven't filled the jar you horny motherfucker. Well, you asked for it." And with that Fred yanked off the timer, turned on the box, flipped off the lights and walked out the door, listening to the endless moans of Officer Thurston coming from the depths of the basement, punctuated every once in a while by a sharp scream, the point of orgasm, the only thing he had to live for anymore. Part Three - Refinements Thurston hadn't realized until the lights flipped on that he had been granted a rest period--how long it had been, a matter of minutes or weeks, he no longer knew, but he did know his dick was soft and that he had been permitted to sleep. A face materialized in front of him, and with his mouth hanging open and tongue hanging out, Thurston lifted his eyes and heard the man say, "Oh I see." It was a handsome face, strong-jawed, wearing some kind of reflector on his head and he was examining Thurston carefully, head to toe, giving a poke here, a stroke there, tugging on Danny's swollen nipples a couple of times as if to test their weight and flexibility. Tiger was next to the man, shirtless, rubbing his own crotch anxiously, as if the mere sight of the ex-cop turned jizbot made him horny as shit. "So doc?" Then from the back of his mind, Danny remembered who the new man was. He groaned helplessly, knowing now for certain all resistance was futile. It was Dr. Warner, the doc that the department used for physicals. If he was in on this. then it couldn't be just Fred and Tiger. Doc Warner seemed to recognize the reason for Danny's despairing moans and with his moustachioed face only inches from Danny's face, he smiled gently. "Payback time, Thurston. Now you really are a fulltime prick. And I can see how much you liked it." He flicked Danny's soft cock with his finger, driving the point home. Then addressing himself to Tiger, who had his hands down the inside of his pants and stroking his own fuckpole eagerly, the doctor said. "Just a few mechanical problems, Tiger. First, let's see if my theory is correct." Danny squirmed with fear as the doctor walked behind him and kneeled down. "I think all the stimulation has made Thurston's prostate hypertrophy." Tiger blinked at the big word, which just seemed to make him jerk off a little faster. "Means that......I think--" the doc was beginning to fiddle with the huge dildo up Danny's ass, grunting a bit like a plumber, as he started the adjustments--"I think it's probably about as big as a football at this point, so this huge thing--" he tapped at the pole, sending vibrations through Danny's guts--"is probably blockin the flow. Get him hard!" Tiger dropped to his knees and begin licking Danny's cock like there was no tomorrow, going fucking crazy on it, slurping, running his tongue up and down the pole, holding the drainage condom in place as Danny's cockhead flared enormously, stretching the red rubber to a tight, transparent pink. "Thar she blows!" And as Danny felt the doctor remove the bat from his ass, he simulataneously felt a huge gush of jizz start to pump, racking him so painfully, so pleasurably, that all he could do was throw his head back and moan. "MotherFUCKER" Tiger exclaimed watching the endless geyser of sperm that had backed up inside of Thurston swell the tubing, fill the cup, and begin to splatter on the floor, the drainage tube twisting wildly like a flooded hose. "There we go." The doc patted Danny on the head paternally. "We knew you could do it, buddy. We knew a huge stud like you to give up more load." Then he wagged his finger at Tiger who was jacking doubletime now, holding himself off before cumming in his own pants at the sight of the helpless goon he and Fred had turned Thurston into. "We need a prostate stimulator less intrusive and more effective. So here you go." And with a casual pop, the doc stuck a small metal ball up Thurston's now loose hole, caressing the asslips so the cop would hold onto it. A whole new sensation filled Thurston's guts--sharp, stinging, pulsating, like a couple of wasps had latched onto his gland, taking turns needling it from the inside. "This electrode will provide enough prostatic stimulation to maximize load capacity and keep erectile functioning at a peak, without blocking drainage. Meanwhile, turn off that fucking box before you burn this man out. It's done what it was meant to do. Penile volume has doubled--"the doctor bounced Danny's obscenely bloated dick in both his hands--"Testicular capacity has tripled"--similarly, he rolled Danny's now grapefruit-sized nuts in both his palms. "So let's begin to see which techniques will permit us to long-term maximization of flow." He winked at someone behind Tiger and Fred stepped forward with a full-length mirror, positioned right in front of Thurston's chair. "Men are easily turned on by visuals, Thurston." The doctor began licking the sweat off Danny's face with long, lascivious almost canine-style strokes of the tongue. "I thought you might get off on looking at yourself after only a week of seed production." He was afraid to raise his eyes and look, but fearing that one of the three captors might do something worse to him if he didn't, Danny decided to take a peak at what he had been reduced to. It had only been a week. If he had had the energy, Danny Thurston would have gasped, but he was too exhausted and the endless sting of the prostate prod kept him grunting from deep inside at regular 15-second intervals. Known at one time for his trim, handsome appearance, he was now unrecognizable. His face was covered with a shaggy growth of beard, his eyes simultaneously spent from the effort of the week's labors and yet still wild with desire. His hair was matted with sweat and disheveled, and the light from above made the encrusted spit and sweat that coated his chest shine with a sickly iridescence. He didn't know whose the body in the mirror belonged to: huge swollen nips, perpetually erect, thick as thumb stuck out from his mantits that had grown higher and more meaty after a week of straining against the chest strap. Having had nothing to eat in a week, his waist had shrunk and he had gained definition, which only made the enormous changes to his lower body that much more dramatic. His thighs and calves, had ballooned from the bucking and his glutes had become so muscular even from the front he could see them flaring, pumping, grinding, squirming. What had been a modest sized cock was now a huge red sextube, arching like an angry, greedy cobra up from a pair of shockingly enormous nuts that lay in a sac stretched tight against the chair. He had realized it but now that he saw himself, he became aware that he was perpetually humping the air, thrusting that plum-sized dickhead up again and again in an automatic rhythm that felt so naturally he didn't know he was doing it. He wanted to be able to say, "Oh my God, no. Don't do this to me." He wanted to beg to be released. He wanted to be disgusted, enraged. But the truth was it made him even hotter to see himself this way, to stare in the mirror and make love to this animal he had become, this perverted, sex-crazed juicepumper. With the doctor and Tiger watching, he began to stick his tongue out, pretending to lick the cock he saw in the mirror. "Bring it closer, Tiger," the doctor said, gesturing to the mirror. "Let our boy get hot for himself. Let him enjoy what he is. Let's see if we can pump up the volume this way, squeeze a little bit more out of those nuts and that copcock. Every little bit, over the long term, you know, means big bucks for us." Tiger put the mirror between Thurston's wide-spread knees and tied a weighted sac to Thurston's balls, so his dick angled perfectly in to the mirror. Staring at the way his reflection met his dickhead, letting his whole world shrink down to nothing but that cock and the next orgasm, Danny bucked against the straps, rubbing himself against his own cock. The doctor started murmuring, thoughtful and incredulous. "I always knew you were a narcissistic fuck. Now here's proof. Give us a show, Danny. Show us how much you like being a perv with yourself, fucking your own image." There was a click behind him and instinctively Danny looked up and saw the tripod and video camera. "Some of the boys want a souvenir at the station, so I thought I'd oblige. You don't mind, huh? Always wanted to be the fucking star, such a big-assed goddamn idol. So show 'em. Fuck the mirror, sperminator. Think of everyone getting hot for you, grabbing their own dicks, looking at you reduced to this sick fucking animal, rubbing his own bloated cock against the mirror to squeeze out more seed, doing anything it takes for another load." The sight of his two cocks dueling made Danny go bright red himself, flushed with crazed lust, and he began to thrust so hard and pant so loud that Tiger and the doctor had to hold down the chair. "Look at the studman go. Hump that mirror. Let yourself give over a huge spurt. Make a contribution for science, Danny, you selfish jackoff pervert." It turned into a blur in a second or two--the camera, his cock, the tears running down his face, the nettle up his ass, all wiped out by a tremendous orgasm and a huge scream and then he felt it--the vacuum pump that Tiger had applied to the drainage tube, sucking his juice violently out of him, pulling on his corona and then releasing, pulling and then releasing, increasing the already copious flow and prolonging the intensity of the orgasm until the whole room began to spin. The doctor slapped his face. "Don't you even think of fucking passing out, copman. We want you awake and happy for the audience that's watching." He grabbed Danny's chin and made him look straight into the mirror at the camera while he continued to come. His face was a grimace of pain and ecstasy, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, his eyes rolling back and forth in panic and pleasure, and still the flow continued, the tube doing what it was designed to--milking every last drop from Danny's now enormous babymakers. Gasping for breath, Danny collapsed after what was now a record ten-minute orgasm and the doctor held up the flask and smiled. "Excellent. Excellent. Tiger, I think we found an effective technique. Half cup of sperm here, up from the usual quarter. Guess we should let Peter-man here get nuts for himself for the rest of the day. But first..." The doctor pulled out an instrument and with a deft movement, stuck it on to the mirror right below Danny's turgid pole. It was a metronome, a lot like the kind Thurston had seen on pianos, only this one had been modified and at the end of the swinging rod was a large spiked rubber ball about the size of a walnut. The doctor pulled it to one side and then released it, and the exquisite swipe across the sensitive flesh of his dicklips made Danny try to retreat back into his chair, but back it came for another swipe, and another and another, and Danny realized it was useless. It punched the tenderest part of his penis, the two engorged mounds of flesh on either side of his pissslit with a mindless ferocity of its own, and between the electrode on his prostate goading from behind and this new, fresh cockhead torment from in front, Danny had no choice but to just sit stock still and let himself get used to it, his mouth frozen open in a silent groan. "Just the way I like you, Thurston. Docile and open. So give us a good suck, huh, buddy?" The doctor had stood up and began to wave his own stiff dick in front of Danny. "Hungry, huh? Want some food, some water? Then suck me. Suck me good. Make me cum a half-cup. Work for your food. Perform. Make me produce a load. Promise we'll feed you after you get my protein here. Suck like a good man. Suck like the machine is sucking you. Learn to be a cocksucker for once. Perfect it." Danny unthinkingly began nursing frantically on the cock placed in front of him, while Tiger came around and began rubbing his own slimy prick all over Danny's eyes and nose. "Boys at the station want a little action on the tape we're going to give 'em. So suck pretty, bubba. Suck on Doc's cock while your cockhead gets flicked and your prostate gets stung. Show them how much you live for dick, for jism, for the next orgasm. Can't help it, can you? Can you, Peter-man?" The doctor was getting close and his own fat prick began twitching wildly in Danny's mouth, making Danny arch and bob his head to keep hold of it in his lips. The doctor's voice got rough, his words jagged as he got close. "You gonna make me shoot? You gonna eat me, goon? You gonna give your doc a little bit of the pleasure you been hoggin for yourself, fuck? Huh? Huh?" The doctor and Tiger came together, one injecting a thick wad of backed-up jizz right into Danny's mouth so fast it spurted out the corners of his lips, the other groaning and unloading ten long, ropy slimy white spurts like toothpaste all over the captive cop's delirious face, which, of course, had the intended effect--Thurston came again, the force of his orgasm making the metronome bounce even more cruelly against his quivering prick, his breath coming in quick sharp gasps with every inexorable swipe, every pathetic pump, every flex of his hips and thighs. The doctor bust into hysterical laughter and just howled. "Look at you, Thurston. You are one sorry-assed excuse for a man. One week and you have been taken to this--living from load to load. Wearing cum on your face, thinking about nothing but producing more and more seed for us. Well, you earned your keep today. Tiger get the water bottle--can't let you get dehydrated, baby, might affect expression of volume and I can't allow that." Danny saw Tiger wheel up a five gallon tank on a cart, fitted with a hose ending in a hollow-tipped dildo. The doctor took a black leather gag with a hole in it from his pocket and fitted it around Danny's mouth and chin. "Don't say we don't take care of our boys, now?" He grinned evilly into the camera, as he placed the water-dildo into Danny's mouth and snapped it into the gag. "You finish your water, Danny and then maybe we'll let you eat. All five gallons, you hear. Not a drop less." The doctor zipped up his pants, wiped his sticky hands across Danny's cheeks, and straightened his hair in the mirror. Then to Tiger who was still rubbing his wet flaccid prick against Danny's neck and Adam's apple, enjoying a well-deserved post-cum glow, the doctor said, "Well, my part's done. I guess it's Fred's turn now." He patted Danny's belly, and for sheer gratuitous pleasure flicked the tip of Danny's dick with his thumb. "What Fred's got in store is going to make this look like child's play. He's a sick fuck, that Fred. Tsk, tsk. tsk. You got a long night ahead, baby. So drink up. You are going to need some refreshment, scumbot." And feeling himself on the verge of cumming one more time from the stimulation, the sight of himself in the mirror, the touch of the doctor's hand on his gut, the rank smell of drying cum in his mouth and on his face, Danny watched the doctor stride out of the room and close the door behind him. Part Four - The Sleeve He must have passed out after that last orgasm, he figured, when he finally came to, or maybe the water he had been given was laced with drugs. Given the state of things, he must have been out for a long while. Bleary-eyed and groggy, Thurston realized he was standing up and when he focused, he saw himself in the wall-sized mirror and almost freaked. His body made a huge X--wrists clapped in thick black leather bands drawn up and out to the end of a large frame, his black leather boots clipped into the end of a broomstick so wide that he had to practically squat to keep his balance. A very wide, thick and stiff surgical collar had been put on him, keeping his head up and forward and his nipples had been forced into long vacuum tubes that now hung down to his waist, swaying from side to side with every short, anxious breath. But the worst was what had happened to his cock and the moment he saw it, he almost thought he would cry. He heard a derisive laugh behind him. "Like the new jewelry, Danny-Boy?" It was Fred, who emerged from the darkness behind him, his own prick tenting out a dirty jock. "Made it just for the department hero. Doc thought we might give you a rest for the weekend." Danny's fat swollen prick stood straight out, imprisoned in a long shining chrome metal sleeve that reached to the base and then flanged out at the end, leaving his huge purple corona exposed. A fat tube, the size of a drinking straw stretched his dicklips--a catheter, out of which slowly drained clear liquid. "You've been recycling water for the last few days--doctor's orders--lots of fluids. In preparation. No orgasms allowed." Fred sauntered over and began to jack the shaft of Danny's dick--only the sleeve prevented Danny from feeling anything. "This was my idea--figured it'd be fun to permanently encase your cock, because as long as you are hard there's no way to get this fucker off you, plus might make you more horny and needy--and therefore more receptive." He kept stroking the sleeve and Danny started to groan, wishing he could feel it, the blunt flange of the tube pressing excruciatingly against the ridge of his dickhead but never enough to get him close. Not that it mattered, since the catheter would prevent any offloading of jism anyway. "Gotta have every part of you available, you understand, and we can't have you distracted by your own pleasure." At which point Fred removed two shell casings crammed with amyl-soaked rag and stuck them up Thurston's nostrils and taped them shut, forcing him to keep his mouth open. "Cause the department's going to be having a party this weekend and you are the entertainment, Thurston." Danny began to start flying, the poppers making him grind his hips into the air and he started to feel the need build, the need to cum. He had gotten used to the constant flow, the stimulation, the repeated cycles. He wanted it, and Fred tapped on the dicksleeve, laughing. "Nope, bubba. You're cut off. Not until you take all 45 copcocks. The boys paid us a lot of money to arrange for your captivity and use." He could hear a crowd coming down the hallway, and Fred pulled out the final humiliation, a thick black magic marker. "We thought about tattoos, but I didn't have time." On Danny's chest he wrote TORTURE MY TITTIES with big arrows point down to the distended nipples. On his belly he wrote MY REASON FOR LIVING with an arrow slashing down to the base of the engorged, chrome dick. On the inside of each of Danny's thighs he wrote CUM FACTORIES with arrows running up his legs pointing to his now enormous nutsack. On Danny's upper lip he wrote FEED ME DICK and circled his mouth, and finally on his ass, he could feel Fred write DEPT. PROPERTY, swatting Danny's grinding ass hard enough to make him cry out. "That's it, for now. You are just fucking Departmental Property." and with a fast jerk, he pulled the catheter out as the crowd came in. It must have been the end of the night shift, cause it was Furman, Lopez, Rather, Young and "Killer" Morgan. The humiliation of it was intense--they whooped wildly at first seeing what the dept. hero had been turned into for their pleasure and then went at him with gusto, like a piece of fresh meat, pulling the nipple tubes off roughly and two of them sucking his fat knobs, Lopez coming around behind and pinching and smacking Thurston's ass hard, saying "Dance for me, beautiful. Show me how you'd like Rico to fuck you." He was dizzy from the amyl, breathing hard, sweating fast, unable to move his head except to shake it from side to side in a futile gesture of resistance. Morgan--a hefty bruiser called up on disciplinary charges every year for "unjustified use of force," pulled out his night stick and began banging on the metal tube containing Thurston's dick, which of course made the poor tool swell harder against its confinement and seemed to nothing but amuse Morgan. "Stiff as steel, Thurston, huh? Stiff as steel. Can you come this way? Huh? Huh?" Rather had been fiddling with the wrist ropes and with a yank, Thurston found himself on his knees, hands lashed down to eyehooks in the floor. "I've got a long one, but it ain't going to reach that high. You want to be fed, come and get it" and with that Rather scooted his groin right under Danny's face, under the mouth gasping for breath, permanently open. Automatically, Danny sucked on Rather's drooling prick, sucked on it like his life depended on it, and the jerk he made when Rico Lopez mounted him from behind, made Rather groan. "Fuck him hard, Rico. That makes him really go at it. And you two, suck on those nipples, make them big and hungry, give Thurston big nursing nipples." Rather moaned from the pleasure of the blow job, and Rico got real serious while fucking, eyes closed, pounding away, repeating like a huge goon in Thurston's ear, "Assmeat, you're assmeat, that's all, assmeat for the department." Fred stood over them with a video camera, circling around, laughing, "Remember, boys there's going to be a contest so make it hot. And don't let him come--time for him to learn a little discipline for a change, huh?" Rather got close and with a long shout, dumped into Danny's mouth, choking him, which made Lopez shoot up his ass and with a swift kick, Young took Rather's place at the helm of Danny Thurston Cocksucker and Morgan simply crammed his own log of a cock up Thurston's raw chute. "No hurry, men. You'll all get a piece. Don't worry. We've got eight hours till the next shift and the whole weekend to take care of the department." Which was when Thurston stopped thinking and realized that from now on this was going to his life, that there was no going back, that he had been permanently reduced to property for the men who used to be his colleagues. Young, a very handsome but usually quiet bodybuilder, was almost whispering to him while Danny sucked on his pretty dick. "It's great, Danny. No worries. No responsibilities. Just serving cock. Maybe we'll keep you in the K-9 cage, what do you think? When we need a little relief, there you'll be. Feed you hormones, keep you on edge, available, hungry for it, all the time. We could use a big animal like that on staff." Morgan began to circle his hips, like he was trying to make Thurston's asshole bigger and bigger using nothing but his prick, and Lopez who had taken the shift on Thurston's engorged mammaries started to laugh at the whole situation. "so what happens when this fucker doesn't come for months and months?" Fred never took his eye from the camera but shrugged. "Doc says the changes become irreversible in about a month, and he might just forget how to come altogether." The five of them whooped once more, poking, prodding, slapping and spitting on Thurston while they used him. "What's a piece of meat need to cum for anyway, huh, Thurston? Huh, Thurston? You had a good last week after all--100 or so loads--you don't need it again, do you?" The scraping of his huge prick on the cold concrete of the floor was the only stimulation his dick was getting and the terror of being permanently rendered incapable of having an orgasm made Thurston automatically start to torture his own dick, jamming it full on against the floor, doing anything it took to make himself shoot, every hole of his filled, tormented, used and abused, his head spinning with poppers, lust, fear and humiliation. "Doggie's gonna shoot. Doggie's gonna shoot" and with an evil smile, Fred zoomed in on Thurston's dick, giving a sick narration while what used to be Danny Thurston offloaded days worth of jism in endless racking thrusts onto the floor underneath him. "He's shooting--watch him, cumfreak's over the edge, has to lose it, making a mess, fucking jizbot, can't help it, he needs it, doesn't care, fucking animal, dumping his load, loves his cock, poor doggie, poor doggie." And then grabbing Thurston's chin he made him look right into the camera, while Thurston was still cumming. "Say hi, Danny. Say hi to all the guys at the department." Wincing, crying, moaning, eyes rolled up into the back of his head, Danny knew his life as a man was over when he unconsciously did what Fred told him and said, "Hi," his voice cracking as the orgasm just rolled on and rolled on, all the guys laughing wildly around him. Part Five - DP and the Rookie Officer Mike Grantree was the new rookie the department had hired, and at the end of his first day on the job, a busy day of paperwork, meeting people, and learning what was what, he was ready to get home to his pretty young wife, when his new partner Rico Lopez showed up at his desk. "Calling it a day, huh, bud?" Mike looked up at his partner who was wearing a strange expression on his face, something like a smirk. "Planning to. Is there something else?" Lopez broke into a full smile. "Sort of. I think I should show you the K-9 unit kennels, just to make sure your tour of the precinct house is complete." He'd thought that special officers handled the dogs when drugs were part of a bust, but he shrugged. "Hey, sure. I'm game." Lopez winked lasciviously in a way that inexplicably made Mike start breathing a little heavier. "Well, it's just that we have a little perk around here and we--well, we keep it under lock and key in the back." The kennels were at the far end of the station house parking lot, a long row of concrete blocks and as the two of them approached, it was already dark and Mike could hear the sound of constant barking from inside. "So how you feeling, partner? Little tense? Little keyed up from the day? A lot to learn, huh?" Lopez clapped a big strong paw on Mike's shoulder and started to massage it. "Bet you can't wait to get home to the missus, get a little relief." Mike laughed. "A lot of relief, buddy. Only married five months, remember. It's still going on, you know. . . ." Lopez didn't bother to flick on the lights inside the long row of cages, but the lights from the parking lot flickered on and Mike could see down the hallway. Not paying much attention at first, he suddenly realized he heard something strange from all the way at the end. "What's that?" he asked Lopez. Lopez didn't answer but cocked his head, gesturing for Mike to follow him. The closer they got to the last holding cage, the more Mike could smell this acrid scent, something like chemicals and sweat mixed together and after a few whiffs, he realized his heart was kind of racing and his cock was rock hard in his tight, new blue serge slacks. "What the fuck is that cleaner they are using in here?" And then, he heard it, a whining voice, repeating over and over, half-mumbling, half-whispering, "Please, man, I need it. I need it. I need it. Come on, come on, give it to me, I need it, don't hold back, more, man, more, come on, anywhere, juice, man, hole, man, cock, man, fuck, shoot, please, please" occasionally punctuated by what sounded like long snorts, followed by high-pitched whimpering. Mike just looked at Rico, and Rico chuckled. "It's a long story, Mikey" and with the flip of a switch, Lopez turned on a dim bulb in the last cage where Mike could see a large naked man covered in encrusted sweat, cum and surrounded by dozens of little brown bottles, furiously jerking off, completely unaware of anyone or anything around him. He was very handsome, long hair still shining, three days growth of beard making him look rugged and framing his fleshy sensual lips, a big strong body, but the guy's mouth was hanging open, drooling and his eyes were fixated on his huge bloated erect penis which he was whacking with both hands while seemingly trying to bend his torso in two and suck himself off. Mike gasped-the cock was the size of two tennis ball cans put together and about as thick--and taking a step back, he exclaimed, "That's fucking Danny Thurston! Holy shit! He got a commendation two years ago, but then disappeared. Everyone said it was the mob. What the hell...!" So Lopez told him Mike the story--the plan, the execution and the results--winding up by saying, "So after the weekend was over, we thought we'd just let him go. You know, he had learned his lesson, we had all had our piece, our revenge. So we left the door open, gave him his clothes and just took off, figuring we had pretty much all we needed on tape to shut him up if he was going to make any trouble. But then, a week later...." Lopez lowered his voice and leaned toward Mike's ear close enough for Mike to feel his hot breath on his neck. "We hear this scratching on the back door and Furman goes back there and who does he find but Thurston, like this, wearing his black belt and boots, nothing else, squatting in front of the door, readying that poor cock of his to cum a third time and we all think, shit, man, Thurston's lost his mind, which could be even more trouble, if someone were to see him. So we took him back here and have been keeping him here ever since." Lopez rubbed a strong hand up and down the small of Mike's back, pushing him toward the cage a little. "It's a no-brainer--we feed him once a day, but all the pathetic fuck wants really is poppers and dick--so whenever we want we just come out back and well, you know. . . ." Mike's swollen crotch was almost touching the bars of Thurston's cage and out of the haze of his broken mind, Thurston sensed this and crawled over on his knees, mouth wide open, holding two brown bottles up to his nose with one hand, polishing the fat purple knob of his abused prick with the other. "We don't all have pretty young wives at home, you know, Mike. So DP here comes in handy." Lopez lowered his voice seductively. "DP. Departmental Property." Mike saw the two letters tattooed on Thurston's chest so that the distended nipples poked through the openings in the D and the P. "Take a hit, Mike. You're a young guy." Lopez cracked open a jug of amyl and put it under Mike's nose. "You've got plenty left for home. Just take the edge off. Make it last longer for the little woman. And look at him. Look at DP. He wants it. He wants your cock, your babyjuice. He can smell that you're hard, that you're horny." Mike felt his head start to swim and it was like all the blood in his body shot straight into his cock--a wild, unique sensation. Unthinkingly, he unzipped his fly and like he was born to it, Thurston took the young officer's rigid pole deep into his mouth right through the bars of the cage, moaning and sighing with pleasure, his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. "Pitiful, man. Breaks my heart to see him this way. But there's nothing anyone can do. So I figure you might as well use him." Lopez laughed and whipped out his own meat. "Hey doggie, got room in there for one more. Huh? Huh?" Thurston opened even wider and took both dicks easily, his lips stretched shiny and bright in the semi-darkness. "You're a good hound, DP. A good fucking hound." And Lopez reached through the bars and rubbed Thurston's head, patting the handsome, ruined face with lust and affection. At this touch from a human being, what used to be Daniel Thurston drooled a viscous load of cum on the floor at the rookie's feet, semen dripping effortlessly out of a grotesquely fascinating penis the size of a baby's arm, stimulated to an orgasm by virtually any sort of physical sensation, however minor, and crawling back to the corner of his cell, DP resumed his life's work, a determined and joyless masturbation. "Sad, huh?" Lopez zipped himself up. "So that's a lesson for you, Grantree." "Lesson?" The young cop asked, quizzically. Lopez leaned close to the rookie and with a firm grip, smacked Grantree's hand away from his dick, holding his young partner's balls nice and tight, in a no-nonsense grip. "Know your place. Or you just might be put in it-for good." Grantree didn't move, listening to the sound of DP in the corner, grunting and moaning and looking at Lopez's handsome, cruel expression. He didn't know what to say and so, he said nothing, lowering his eyes and letting Lopez put his cock back into his pants, zipping him up like he was a little kid or a toy doll. "Yes, sir. Understood, sir." Lopez smiled broadly. "Good man, Grantree. Know your place around here, and you'll be fine." ------------------------------------------------- BearTrainer beartrainer@hotmail.com __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Talk to your friends online with Yahoo! 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