New Year's Eve Patrol

Sergeant Samuel Stillwell adjusted the temperature in the squad car again. The howling wind created a psychological feeling of cold. Of course, the fact the ambient temperature was -29 Celsius aided that freezing feeling.

Sam hadn't been on a car patrol for a great many years. He was 47 years old, had served the city police since he was 23 and was only a year from retiring with full pension. He had earned the privilege of not sitting in a car on New Year's Eve, but duty called.

Constable Devon Schmuland, newly graduated from the police academy, was the reason Sam sat in this car on this cold night. Devon, 22, had left the academy only two weeks before and this was his very first actual patrol. The experienced officer who was to partner Devon for two weeks broke his leg during a pursuit the night before. Sam agreed to accompany young Devon until another partner could be arranged.

Now into their fourth hour of duty, Sam and Devon had spent their time, as was customary on such cold nights, seeking out the homeless and ensuring they were safe for the night. They cruised the dark alleyways of the inner city where abandoned buildings offered temporary sanctuary from the weather looking for those at risk of hypothermia. So far they had transported six individuals to shelters and three to hospital.

Devon was telling Sam how he had proposed the night before when he suddenly stopped talking and interrupted his tale with, "What's that?"

Sam turned and followed Devon's pointing finger. On the second floor of an abandoned auto repair shop a flickering light shone through a partially boarded window, "Looks like flames. Let's check it out."

"Shouldn't we call the Fire Department to respond?"

"Good question. Normally I would say 'yes' but Fire is always busy this time of year and I would rather be sure it is not just some homeless guy who started a small fire to keep warm before we call them. Agreed?" Devon nodded and followed his partner out of the car. The wind was bitter and the two officers rushed to a small door on the side of the building. Luckily the door opened. Sam turned to lock the patrol car with the fob in his pocket.

"Christ, it's cold," muttered Sam as he swept his flashlight around the empty space.

"Not much warmer in here. Those broken windows don't help," commented Devon shining his light on the culprit windows.

"Can't blame whoever it is for starting a fire to keep warm. There. There's the stairs." Sam led the way to the far corner of the building and up the metal staircase. Their echoing footsteps announced their arrival long before they reached the top.

As Sam turned into the upper space his attention was drawn to the source of the flickering light. A large metal barrel turned into an improvised fire pit stood in a corner where two walls helped contain the heat. Around the fire six men huddled on assorted chairs and dirty mattresses.

The group glared at the officers not appreciating the intrusion. Sam was able to see they were all black and all between 18 and about 24. He decided to approach the situation in same way they had approached the nine other citizens they had aided that night.

"Greetings, guys, sorry to interrupt. We were just checking to ensure the fire was contained safely."

One of the men snapped, "How'd you know about our fire?"

Devon pointed to the half boarded window, "The light was visible through there."

The one who spoke tugged on the sleeve of another, "Block that out." He was instantly obeyed.

Sam saw nothing to keep the two officers there, "Okay, as long as everything is safe here, we'll be leaving. Please make sure the fire is out before you go, alright?"

"Sure thing, officer. Safety first."

"Great, have a save night and keep warm, boys."

The response to that was immediate and swift. "What you call us? Eh, honkey, what you call us?!" the spokesman for the group reared up and pulled a gun from his pocket. Two other guns appeared. The small group rapidly deployed to surround Sam and Devon.

"Hey, hey, hey. Everyone calm down. I didn't mean anything by that. I call everyone younger than me 'boy'. Nothing racial about it."

Devon found his voice, "That's true. He calls me 'boy' all the time."

The leader moved closer, "I don't believe you. You was trying to put us down 'cause we're black and we don't like that. No, sirree, we don't like that one bit. Cops is all the same."

Reaching for his gun, Sam tried backing up to the stairwell but was stopped by a gun in his back. Needlessly the armed teen demanded, "Don't move!" Sam and Devon both obeyed the next command to raise their hands. When they had done so they were relieved of their guns.

"Alright, guys, sorry my meaning was misunderstood but there is no reason to make things worse. Holding us at gunpoint is taking this from a misunderstanding to a criminal offense. Let's just back off and talk calmly," Sam said.

But the young men were not in the mood to be reasonable. The leader replied, "Fuck no, you guys came here to cause trouble and trouble you found."

"You tell 'em, Ten-J. You tell them true."

Ten-J flashed a bright white smile at his gang and then turned that smile to Sam and Devon ignoring their protests, "So, what should we do with a couple of racist cops, huh?"

The gang members shouted a variety of suggestions that, to the dismay of the officers, included 'Shoot 'em' and 'Hang them'.

'Oh fuck,' Sam said to himself, 'Now what?' Out loud he managed, "Now, wait, let's not go off half-cocked..." 'Where did 'half-cocked' come from? That's something Dad would say.'

But the mention of cock presented Ten-J with an idea of what to do with his captives. He smirked and said to his crew, "No, we ain't going to kill them. We goin' to do worse. Much worse."

"What's worse then killin' them?" asked a fellow with a quiet voice.

"Keepin' them alive after we teach them their place. Strip 'em!"

Once again both officers protested but once again their protests were ignored. Multiple hands tore at their clothing removing first jackets, and then shirts followed by Kevlar vests and t-shirts. This actually took a good deal of time as the officers struggled and fought. The struggling was halved when someone discovered plastic restraints in their utility belts. With hands bound behind their backs, Sam and Devon were almost helpless to prevent their boots, socks, and pants being yanked from their bodies. Almost helpless -- as each landed a few well placed kicks.

Those kicks increased the anger of the recipients which in turn fuelled the others. Ten-J stood to the side laughing as he watched the two policemen trying to prevent the inevitable. Once Sam and Devon wore only their underwear -- white cotton jockeys for Sam, brightly coloured boxers for Devon -- Ten-J ordered them to their knees. Neither complied.

Ten-J glowered at them but spoke to someone else, "Whisp, teach these guys to follow orders."

Sudden, intense pain on the back of his knees caused Sam to crumble forward. He looked at Devon in time to witness his partner getting the same treatment -- a board to the back of his legs. Devon also crumbled to the floor.

"So, every time you don't do what you're told, Whisper there will hit the other one with his board. Whisper likes hitting people with his board, don't you, Whisp?"

Whisper moved to Ten-J's side so he could be seen and softly said, "Yeah, I do, Ten." The softness of his voice was the obvious source of his nickname.

Ten-J bent down to make eye contact with his captives, "Clear, suckers?" Both nodded. "I don't hear you. I said 'Clear'."

"Clear!" was the response.

"Good pigs. Now guess what's going to happen to you, little piglet." The epithet was directed at Devon.

"Uh... I think... you mean to ... you're going to rape us?"

"Smart man. No question about it, piglet. By the time you leave here you're goin' wish we killed you." He spoke to another fellow who was holding the patrol car's fob, "Travon, go bring their car into the building. No sense advertising their whereabouts until we're finished."

Once again Sam tried to use logic and reason, "Guys... Ten-J, don't do anything more and you won't end up in prison. You know..."

"Okay, grandpa pig, since you like to flap your lips flap them around this." Ten-J pulled open his jeans and freed his cock from his boxers. Stepping forward, he brushed his cock head against Sam's mouth. Sam tightened his lips refusing entry.

Suddenly, Devon cried out in pain. Whisper had struck him on his elbow and was lining up another blow. Sam opened his mouth; Ten-J pushed his cock head in.

Ten-J was a rich milk chocolate colour about 5'7" with a slender build. His cock was darker and was out of proportion with his build. Only semi-hard, it was already a good 7 inches with a very large, mushroom-like head. Sam stretched his mouth to accommodate the huge head. Ten-J pushed further until his cock hit the back of Sam's mouth. Sam gasped for air. His assailant pulled back so Sam could breathe. He pushed forward again this time even further.

Sam was convinced his attacker meant to strangle him. When Ten-J pulled out, Sam was astonished to see the cock had grown to at least 11 inches. He had never seen a cock that big. He had read about cocks that size in Penthouse Forum letters, but had always dismissed those claims. Now he could personally attest to the veracity. Sam was astonished he could be thinking like that as he was being sexually assaulted, but that's where his brain took him.

"Go ahead, use the piglet, Arnie." Ten-J said to someone. Devon must have resisted because Whisper's board made sharp and painful contact just under Sam's shoulder blades. The force drove him deeper onto Ten-J's weapon.

Devon, reluctant to cause his partner further distress, opened his mouth to allow Arnie access. Arnie was several inches taller than Ten-Jay and out-weighed him by a good fifty pounds, but his cock measured only 8" in length. It measured three inches in diameter. Devon swore he felt his jaw dislocate.

Ten-J, Arnie and the entire gang enjoyed the gasps, gurgles, gags and whines from their two victims. It seemed to urge them on. The other four had loosed their cocks from their pants and were wagging them in front of the two officers. Taunting them with pledges to stuff these cocks down their throats too.

Sam considered biting the cock in his mouth and tentatively scraped it with his teeth. It was as if Ten-J read Sam's mind and forestalled any such action. Ten-J smacked the older man on the side of his head. "Try that again and I'll turn Whisp loose with his board on the piglet's head. Understood?"

Sam meekly nodded his head and returned to sucking Ten-J's cock, careful to keep his teeth away from the sensitive organ. Ten-J, in turn, increased the rate and depth of his pumps into the officer's mouth.

Sam could hear Devon's struggles with the cock in his mouth wishing there was a way of protecting the younger man. He could think of nothing. Nothing, but submitting to prevent greater harm.

Ten-J's breathing increased and his body tightened. Sam knew he was about to cum and he had no intention of swallowing that load. He tried to pull off the cock but, Sam's hair too short to allow a good grip, Ten-J took hold of his ears, and held his head in place.

Ten-J announced to all, "Goin' to cum in the pig's mouth!" And he did. With the head just behind Sam's teeth the thug shot his load.

Sam could feel the hot, gooey cum coat his tongue and back of his throat. There was so much of it, Sam's original intent of holding it in his mouth then spitting it out failed as he automatically swallowed. He could feel the slime slipping down his throat, mentally gagging at the thought.

Arnie shouted, "I'm cumming!" and blew his load in Devon's mouth. Because Arnie was deeper in Devon's mouth the young officer did not taste his assailant's cum but was no less humiliated for that.

Ten-J pulled out of Sam's mouth with an audible 'pop'. "Next!" he called. Arnie copied him.

Immediately two others replaced them. Sam did not need to look up to identify his attacker. Whisper was so dark a brown as to be truly black and the cock hanging from his pants was darker still, plus Whisper's board plunked down beside its owner's leg. Sam noted the cock before him was shorter than Ten-J's at approximately 9 inches but still a formidable size.

Whisper was the group's 'enforcer' for a reason. He was brutal. With a single thrust, he rammed his cock into Sam's mouth all the way to the balls. Sam's nose was crammed against the thug's taut lower abdomen and his throat over-filled with cock. The cop began to gasp for air and struggle to free himself. Whisper paid no attention, making small pushes forward.

Thankfully, Sam heard Ten-J admonish Whisper, "Hey, Whisp, let the man breathe." No change. "Whisp, you gotta pull back some." No change. "You're choking him, man, pull back, man! We're not trying to kill them!" No change from Whisper. "Pull out now, MARVIN!"

"Don't call me that!" retorted Whisper in a soft voice.

"Well then pull back now or I'll take that board to you! Understand?"

Whisper looked down as if in surprise to see the cop struggling for air. He yanked his cock out as unceremoniously as he had rammed it in.

Sam coughed and sputtered, gratefully drawing in air.

Ten-J pushed Whisper out of the way, stood in front of Sam and announce, "Get this straight, everyone, we are not trying to kill these guys. We are trying to teach them their place. Nobody, and I mean nobody, does anything like that again or there will be trouble. Understood?" There were murmurs of agreement. "Now, you Whisper, you go to the back of the line and if you do that again I'll make sure everyone calls you Marvin from now on. Got it?"

Whisper shuffled away reluctantly.

"You okay, man?" Ten-J asked of Sam. Sam nodded. "Alright then, NEXT!"

If Sam thought Ten-J would end it he was sadly mistaken as Travon moved into place, cock at the ready. As Travon moved in Sam caught a flash and a quiet click. 'Fuck they're taking photos.' Sam thought, and then, 'Good they're taking photos -- evidence! Evidence of me and Devon sucking cock -- shit and damn.'

Travon was gentler than Whisper but face-fucked Sam with a good deal of enthusiasm. Repeatedly he rammed forward and slowly pulled back. Sam did his best to squeeze down on Travon's cock hoping he could make the thug cum faster. And that apparently worked. Travon sighed, pushed forward and froze. Sam sensed, rather than tasted, cum flowing over his tonsils into his gullet.

"This pig gives better head than my bitch," Travon announced to the crew. He laughed, "You should be proud, man."

Sam felt a surge of pride at this accomplishment before realizing what the compliment was about. He shook his head as the next cock appeared in his field of vision. Another long thick chocolate-coloured log. Another cock to service. Again he tried to get the fellow off as quickly as possible. This one exploded just behind his teeth so Sam tasted every drop of the warm sticky cum.

'Okay, that's three. I've done my share. We're done,' he thought just as a fourth cock appeared. 'Not fair. Isn't the kid doing some of these?' Sam had forgotten these were all young men able to recover their hard ons quickly and who were fuelled by testosterone. All six thugs used both officers; and then...

"I'm back," taunted Ten-J shoving his large cock head into Sam's gaping mouth.

Indeed, several came back for repeat performances. Sam lost count at fourteen.

And then once again, Ten-J's recognizable cock appeared. Sam sighed in exasperation. "Oh, relax, grandpa pig, you just need to get it hard this time. I have other plans."

Sam thought, 'Good just get it hard...No, wait, what other plans? Oh, fuck, not that!'

And 'that' was exactly what Ten-J had in mind. He pulled out of Sam's mouth, told a couple of guys to bring over the mattresses, and yanked Sam from the floor. The officer was pushed face down onto a smelly mattress, his ass up in the air. He felt cold hard steel on his lower back. The knife slid down, catching the waistband of his briefs and sliced the elastic. The blade continued down his ass cutting the cotton briefs from his body. The knife wielder laughed as he tore the shreds of cloth from Sam's naked body.

There was a soft thud next to Sam and Devon was deposited beside him. Same position and equally naked. They looked at each other trying to convey messages of hope, or strength, or desperation to the other -- unsuccessfully it turned out.

Ten-J took the lead and positioned himself directly behind Sam. "Nice ass for an old geezer. Betcha he's a virgin. That right, grandpa pig?" Sam could only nod an affirmative. He could think of nothing that would save his virgin ass. Ten-J continued, "Give me some of that stuff."

Sam was confused as to what 'stuff' referred to until he felt something cold and slippery sliding down his ass crack. 'Thank God, he's using lubricant.' Sam thought, followed by, "Shit, he's using lubricant. HE's going to do IT. Fucking hell.'

Ten-J smeared the lotion on his cock and then, using a finger, pushed some into Sam's ass. He got it in as far as the first knuckle before declaring to all, "Yeah, man, a real tight virgin. Haven't had a virgin for sometime. Of course, never had a virgin cop." Patting Sam on the back, "You're my first, virgin cop, old man. Aren't you lucky?"

Sam wasn't feeling lucky. There had been a slight pain with the finger insertion but no more that a prostate exam. He dreaded what would follow; that huge mushroom shaped cock head would be entering his ass and that would hurt.

Positioned shoulder to shoulder, Sam could feel Devon tense when his ass, also virgin, was similarly fingered.

Ten-J rubbed his cock along Sam's ass crack passing over the puckered opening a couple of times before positioning it directly on Sam's ass hole. He paused for a moment and then pushed forward.

That huge head split Sam's hole and he groaned in pain despite himself. As more cock entered the pain intensified. Sam yowled, "Fucking hell! Take it out! Take it out!" He was instantly ashamed at his weakness in front of Devon but he could not help it.

Immediately after, Devon also yelled his pain at being entered. To Sam's shame he did not plead, he groaned and moaned into the dirty mattress and accepted his fate. 'Strong, kid,' Sam thought.

Ten-J bottomed out, his balls slapping against Sam's. "All the way in. You're truly fucked, grandpa. Like it?" Sam did not dignify that with a response. "You'll get used to it, well, by the time we are all done screwing your ass you will be." Ten-J laughed as he slowly pulled back.

Sam felt that huge mushroom head as it made its way back through his bowels. It hurt the entire way. Sam dreaded the return trip anticipating excruciating pain.

Ten-J stopped with his cock head just inside Sam's entrance. There was a pause before he plunged back in, and, as Sam anticipated, the pain was intense. Ten-J experienced the whole thing differently, of course. For the young thug the tight ass provided an incredible sensation. Tight and warm it felt like the cop's ass was made for Ten-J's cock and Ten-J meant to enjoy that ass as long as he could. To achieve this he slowed down and pushed in and then pulled out with deliberate strokes.

Without realizing it Ten-J was giving Sam more pleasurable sensations. With each withdrawal Ten-J's big mushroom head dragged against Sam's prostate. Each drag reduced the pain; Sam felt a shiver of delight causing his balls to tingle and his cock to jump. It did not take long for his cock to reach its fullest. And that scared Sam. 'What the hell? ... I am NOT enjoying this. ... I am not. ... I refuse to believe I'm enjoying this,' he thought to himself. Unfortunately for his resolve, just as he thought that last thought, Ten-J rubbed against his prostate and Sam tingled and moaned silently to himself with pleasure. 'OH, shit! This is starting to feel so good. Whatever that kid is doing he is doing well.' Sam was thankful to be in the position he was; his cock was trapped between his abdomen and his thighs, invisible to those around him.