Calluses Pt. 01: Friction

I instinctively tried to smack his hand away, but my arms only flexed behind me as the handcuffs dug in, held firm. I was utterly mortified, but he didn't seem to notice any of this, and his thumb hasn't moved an inch. I had to be imagining things...

Focus.

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, the only light there would ever be at the end of this tunnel. Get ahold of yourself, man...

He grinned in a way that made me feel like a rabbit in a trap. "Sure. Community service. You could call it that...but nothing official, you understand? It'd be at my discretion, and mine alone. Actually...no one else would even know..."

The thumb at my nipple began to move, erasing all doubt. It rubbed firmly around the edge of my hidden areola, and then...flicked the nub.

A ripping jolt of electricity shot from his thumb down the length of my spine, melting my stomach, then straight into my crotch. Something stirred lower down, deeper in -

I jerked beneath his hand, and a sharp breath hissed past my teeth, but my stress-addled mind still refused to accept what was happening. "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, rough and terrible. I gasped at the sheer, raw intrusion of it, something I'd only ever imagined happening to another person. His fingers were rough, cold on my bare skin, but they didn't stay that way for long. They crept up the tense flesh of my flat stomach, across my sternum, and into the patch of dark hair between the clenching meat of my pecs. My thin shirt lifted up around his forearm, icey air rushing across my belly and my flanks - he was feeling me up, right there in the open!

I was stiff, unbelieving, caught between his groping hands and the smooth, frozen bulk of his car. I finally noticed the red recording light of his body-cam wasn't on, and probably hadn't been for some time...if at all...

This couldn't be happening. Cops couldn't just do this kind of thing, gay or not! I hadn't sent him any signals whatsoever -- 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 an incredibly strong, vise-like grip. The feel of his rough, crushing hand against the bare flesh of my neck sent tingling ripples across my skin, up my spine, into my brain...holding me firmly in place, broad fingers slowly massaging the tense muscles at the base of my skull...and it actually felt good. Really good. Some part of me almost even wanted to enjoy it...

The hand beneath my shirt slid across my chest and fondled my other pec, rough fingers tweaking my nipple there, sending fresh jolts of savage, shocking 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...and I finally realized the rules no longer existed, never had in the first place - and he wasn't going to stop.

I shuttered and squirmed against his grip, my mind appalled while my body reached a state of curious, sickening arousal - like a machine that had been turned on. My hands clenched tightly behind my back, maddeningly useless in the handcuffs. I'd never felt more vulnerable, more impotent, in my entire life. "This is...uh...this is illegal, officer..." I sputtered dumbly, trying not to hyperventilate...but he knew that already, so it was pointless to beg.

He didn't respond. He was watching my face with his intense black eyes, studying every grimace, every gasp, utterly engrossed. His hands weren't just molesting my body, as if that weren't horrific enough...they were also observing my reactions to their lewd, unwanted ministrations, down to the smallest twitch of a 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, feeling her up, cupping her tits...teasing her nipples...making her squirm and moan like a bitch in heat, moan until her voice went all weak and airy, and I knew she really wanted it. When those thoughts merged with his forced, inescapable fondling, his smell...my cock, it was...

I heard my own voice moan nervously as he played with my nipples under the shirt, bringing them both to full attention between his callused fingers and thumb, sharp and impossibly sensitive against shifting cotton...I moaned out loud - mostly fear, couldn't stop it - and I wanted to crawl back into myself forever. It wasn't the weak, airy moan of a horny chick...it was low and grumbling, reedy and humiliated, a horrifically sexual sound I'd never imagined coming out of any male throat...and certainly not my own...but I couldn't help it. No one had ever played with my nipples before, not like this. I'd never realized they were wired so directly to every nerve between my legs, so easily manipulated...and now my body, even my own voice, was betraying me, until there was nothing else I could do.

The unexpected moan terrified me into a dazed state of shock...but apparently it just turned him on, because he was tweaking even harder, now pressing his heavy 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 up 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, 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, making me bite my cheek to keep from crying out. His moist lips parted as his tongue snaked out - worming into 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, lighting up my entire body like a Christmas tree. He wasn't kissing me so much as devouring me, rough digits feeling everywhere below, and I was finally realizing how much he wanted me -- no tricks, no traps, no mind games, as I'd already fallen for all of them, and now he had his prize all to himself. I was the sole focus of a carnal, perverted male lust, far more powerful and primordial than any coy, nymph-like college girl, or even Jennifer's vicious need...and I had no idea what to do with it, how to resist it, if that were even possible -- if I wanted it to be possible, or if I just wanted an excuse to give up and let the intense warmth of his horny body envelope me for good, the only possible protection from the frigid winter chill that nipped and snapped at the edges of the experience...

"What are you going to do?" I asked, choking on my own fear, but most of what came out was a thin, strained little whimper.

He didn't answer with words. My nerve endings fired and convulsed as he played them like a fiddle, faster and harder, nipples to neck. I squirmed in his grip, gasping and panting despite myself, 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 up 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, and he was grinning. The hand at my nipple slid down my chest, following the thin trail of fur between my tensing abdominals...

No...

My hips jerked about as he impatiently unbuckled my belt, yanked it open -- and shoved his hand down the front of my jeans.

My entire body twisted between my neck and my thighs and the handcuffs around my wrists - doing anything 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 stiff enough to horrify me.

"St - don't fucking touch me there, goddamn it!"

"Oh I'm fuckin touchin you here, boy!" he growled, rumbling deep and getting a good feel of me. "I love an uncut cock on a hot young buck...nice fat juicy one, too..."

My dick grew to fullness in seconds as his hand squeezed it hotly, lustily, trapped in the heat of my jeans. "Goodness, boy," he swooned. "You're plumped up so good for me already...nice and wet, too...feels like you been drippin all day..."

His thumb worked the sensitive glans of my cock, sticky and slick in the widening hood of its foreskin. Slippery-hot precum bubbled out of the piss slit as he polished the vulnerable nub with his index finger, lubricating everything, easier for him to make me want it, and he smirked when I sucked in my stomach. "You're just leakin all over yourself, ain't you college boy? Gasper and a gusher...Merry Christmas to me, I guess..."

I was too choked up with twisted, corrupting sensation to explain that I only had a semi because I'd been thinking about fucking Jessica not even twenty minutes before, somehow convinced that would make any difference at all. "Please stop..." I managed to whine between frightened gasps, just as pathetic as it sounds. "Just stop it, man, fuck...!" 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 - and I watched in wide-eyed horror as he bullied my cock right out of my pants, splitting the zipper down the middle with his wrist.

I had a huge, full-on boner - a frothy wet stiffy in another man's hand. The head of it glistened like a ruby between his crushing, hairy knuckles, utterly surreal; it was a lewd, roaring pink, slick with precum beneath the velvety sheath of my foreskin, oozing all over us both...

"Fuuuuck, boy...this thing is fuckin perfect. You're perfect. Fat, pink, slippery dick...natural as rain...good enough to eat..."

If I could have willed my cock soft, I would have -- but my body wasn't following my orders anymore. It was following his.Don't suck it...please don't suck it, I prayed, but the thought of his mouth down there only made me harder, flexing in his grip, and that felt...

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 over my head and shoved it behind my neck, 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 cloudy afternoon sun.

My body was lean and fit, but broad at the shoulders and thighs; stronger and hairier than most guys my age. It had become my biggest source of pride, raw male strength put to work in the gym, and countless weekend hikes...but in that awful moment, cradled helplessly against such a massive beast of an older man, my young, well-toned frame no longer looked powerful, so much as it looked...elegant. Delicate. Fuckable...

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 down to my ankles -- not that it made much difference. My boxers were still stretched down and bunched up under the small bulge of my fuzzy pink ballsack, which retreated even deeper up into me from the sudden rush of cold. Above it 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 organ to its limit. It blushed in its wild bed of black pubic hair, which I hadn't bothered to trim in over a month. I was planning on cleaning it up before seeing Jennifer that night, as I'd always been mortified of a girl seeing my raging bush in such an unkempt state...but this...this was a whole new universe of perfect, nauseating humiliation, even as my cock throbbed like a whorish beacon at the nexus of my pale, gym-toned 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, plundering desire. His heat grew as he pressed up against me, taking my small pink nipple into his mouth with a husky growl -- nibbling it, tonguing it - melting it with sucking wet heat.

"Hhaha -- ah, Jesus - no!" I shrieked, breathless - but then all I could do was gasp at the mercy of his flickering tongue. My entire body was quaking, thoughts erased. I writhed mightily against it -- or because of it -- and would have launched myself right out of his jaws if his arm hadn't snaked its way behind my back, gripping my ribcage from below. He held my teat up against his hungry, drooling, bearded maw, the sleeve of his uniform tickling my back, the rest of it warming me where his sturdy body embraced mine. His gripping hand slid up under my armpit to cover my left pec, nipple and all, while his mouth devoured the other whole like a sweet, ripe berry...

I was a trapped animal, straining and helpless. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, gnaw off my own leg and get away. I tried to catch a breath, but it was shallow, gasping, erratic - totally at the whim of his jaws. I couldn't think beyond the waves of electric jolts that were ricocheting throughout my body whenever his tongue or his teeth had their way with my nipple - some unholy hybrid of pleasure and pain. I heard myself moan again, louder now, and it was weak, airy...like a chick...

That seemed to satisfy him, if only for a moment. He took his mouth off my inflamed pec and rested his head against my heaving chest. My nipple 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 mass of his uniform. I was mute with shock, panting against him, feeling terribly small. I could feel my heart hammering against the scratchy skin of his cheek, and so could he.

His grin was like dirt against my skin. "I love your body, boy...I like you hairy like this...but not hairier than me, no sir. Not like a real man...you're hairy like a boy. Just enough fur, silky-soft, right where I like it...skin like cream, strawberries and cream...so fuckin perfect..." His voice and his praise had a strange, intoxicating effect, leaking into me slow and steady, like I was just an insect caught in tree sap. It drew me in, confused and drunk on it, caring less and less about how naked I was, how much of me he was getting to know so intimately...

The arm under my ribs pushed up under the small of my back, arching it forward. This pushed my nipple back into his eager mouth, stretched my stomach out to meet his other hand as it went back to exploring my flinching, heaving body, insatiable, and I was gasping again. His rough pads and bold fingers followed the trail of sweaty black hair from the patch on my chest, down to the place where it thickened below my navel...then straight into my unkempt pubes, and the widening cradle of my hips. He fondled the quaint bulb of my scrotum...squeezed it once, to make me choke back a yelp...then closed around the hard shaft of my cock, milking it, forcing me to moan from the sheer physical manipulation, and it was a scared, pleading sound --

An engine roared 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. I was being violated on the side of a highway in bumfuck nowhere, out in the open 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 police officer'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; whether or not I actually wanted to enjoy it wouldn't matter. I felt the spreading heat of 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 gonna be then, college boy?" he swooned. "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. Fuck you a lot...just for one tiny little weekend, though. That's it. Forty-eight hours - or years of your life. One or the other. 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, blushing 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.

"Clock's ticking, college boy," he growled, fingers digging into my taint until my hips bucked at the sensation, hard cock bobbing like a flagpole in the wind.

"What's it gonna be?"

"What the fuck..." I whispered desperately, to no one, 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 tickling my inner thighs as his knee spread them, my shrinking ballsack smashed by the meat of his wrist. His finger wormed lower along the plumpness of my taint, now pushing the sweaty hair aside, searching...

I reared against it, as if released from a spell. "Fucking stop it! Let me think --fuck, man --STOP IT!"

"Shut up." The grip on the back of my neck clamped down painfully, but I kept trying to buck him off. "This is happening, college boy..."

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. I wasn't going anywhere, and his finger had already found it...the tight, virgin pucker of my asshole.