Gay Erotic Stories

THANKS TO "ROOKIENATE" FOR PERMISSION TO RUN WITH THIS STORY AND FOR PLANTING HIS IMAGE IN THAT DEEP DISTURBED CORNER OF MY MIND Stan just sat back in the quiet darkness of his cell. Watching across the aisle as Vaughn paced his cell, like a wild caged animal. It was times like this that Stan knew it best to keep quiet, there was nothing he could do to help that kid they threw in Vaughn's cell. If he did say anything, it might just set Vaughn off again. They practically grew up together; Vaughn was like Stan's big brother. They always hung out together, chased girls together, caused mischief together and as they grew older, got in real trouble together. This time, Stan thought, maybe they got in over their heads. Vaughn had this great plan, good to make a few thousand bucks. All they had to do was deliver a few kilos of coke and the money would be in their hands. "Easy, no problems, piece of cake," he said. Stan wiped away a tear, thinking about doing 25 years in the pen wasn't a pleasant thought, especially for a "pretty boy" as Vaughn always called him. Stan looked like the all-American jock boy-next-door. At 27 years old, 6' and 180 lbs, he was well built and pretty strong, but didn't have the powerful gym built body like Vaughn. His straight blond hair and innocent blue eyes belied the mean streak that seemed to run through all the boys in his family. Must be the gene pool. If he wasn't getting into fights, he was stealing cars, breaking into sheds or garages, or just out getting drunk or smokin some dope. His meanness showed through once when he broke a pool stick across a guy's face because the guy wouldn't play him for money, even after beating him three straight games. Stan had his way with the women too, he'd be seen going in and out of the ladies room at the local bar trading a joint for a blow job or a piece of ass against the sink. Even though his family owned a couple local businesses, Stan hadn't ever had a real job that he'd show up to for more than one or two weeks. He never worried about it, Mom or Dad would always be there to bail him out. But this time they said no more, this time he was "on his own". The cussing from Vaughn's cell brought Stan back from his thoughts, he was kicking that kid again. There he was, lying naked, beaten, bloody and smeared with cum on the cold concrete floor. None of the guards would come back at this hour of the night. They figured if you're back here, you deserve what you get. But this kid sure as hell didn't deserve what he was getting from Vaughn. From the minute the kid was locked in, Vaughn threw him against the wall, said he reminded him of a cop he knew, and that was his bad luck. Putting him in head locks and choke holds, pummeling him in the head and gut with his huge fists, Vaughn kept on ranting. "OK Officer Nate," and kicking the kid in the gut, "anything else Officer Nate?" slamming him against the wall, "here's something else Officer Nate." ripping the kid's jail clothes off and starting the long painful rape and assault of his scapegoat. Stan tried to plug his ears, but the screaming and crying couldn't be blocked. The kid was Charlie. Stan had seen him in town a couple times. There wasn't enough fight in him to resist Vaughn. He was 5'7 and about 140 lbs. Small and lean, a couple tattoos to show he's a man. Not a troublemaker, he shouldn't be in the same jail as Vaughn, let alone the same cell. The guard mentioned that he was picked up for public intox. "The fucking kid left his truck at the bar and started to walk home because he was too drunk to drive. Now if he makes it through the night, he'll never be the same. What the hell is wrong with these people?" Stan's mind raced. "STAN!!! STAN!!!" came the gruff voice from the other cell. It was Vaughn. His head shaking back and forth, pressed against the bars, half-crying. "Did you see what they fucking made me do?" "Do you see what the fuck they sent me?" Vaughn yelled. Here was one of the most feared guys in town, straddling a beaten up naked guy, sobbing in jail. Stan had adjusted to these emotional rollercoasters and could sometime smooth them out. He looked over at Vaughn. He was an imposing, almost frightening sight, even with two rows of bars separating them. A full year older than Stan, Vaughn stood a head taller and it seemed half a body wider than Stan's 6' frame. His dark hair and deep tan were the perfect backdrop for his steely blue eyes. Those looks on that body commanded attention and respect from the moment he walked into a room. At about 6'6" and 250lbs of solid chiseled muscle, Vaughn impressed or intimidated people wherever he went. The only thing missing was self-control. "With that" Stan thought, "Vaughn would have it made, he'd know no limits." Stan had hoped that learning the martial arts with Vaughn might help them both gain control of their lives, he was wrong, it just made them both meaner and more dangerous. Stan saw that Vaughn's rampage and the effect of the pills he had taken earlier were subsiding, but caution was still called for. "I see, Vaughn," Stan replied quietly. "He's that fucking cop, why is he in here?" yelled Vaughn. "Look at him Vaughn, that isn't him. That's not Officer Nate!" Stan said. "Why don't we just get some sleep?" suggested Stan. "You sure that's not him? He might be in disguise, just trying to bust me again," said Vaughn. "No Vaughn, that's Charlie, I'm sure. Now go to sleep," Stan's mellowing voice encouraged. "Yeah, OK, yeah, some sleep, that's what I need" muttered Vaughn. With that he climbed onto the bed, curled up into a fetal position and went to sleep. Sometime in the early morning hours, the guards came in and took Charlie out, no one saw where to, but it had to be better than facing another uncertain bout with a rested and awake Vaughn. Finishing up his 3-hour session at the gym, Nate stood before the mirror and admired his body. He had reason to be proud, he made and kept up the commitment to maintaining his body in top shape. As a high school football, baseball and track team star, and a college track and baseball player, Nate wanted to make sure he kept that competitive edge. These days, the odd shifts and fast food, mean at the least a three-mile run four times a week and a good workout on the nautilus and freeweights three to five times a week. Not a smoker or drinker, never using drugs, Nate thought the occasional fast food infraction could be made up for with some extra gym time. Once home, Nate readied himself for another long night shift. Slipping on his jeans and boots, Nate paused to give himself the once over in the mirror, turning from side to side, just making sure his trim hard body wasn't showing any signs of age or weight. At 25, 5'11 and 170 lbs, Nate was probably the only one with any thought at all about his body deteriorating. He slipped on his tee shirt grabbed his gym bag and headed off to work. Nate was the favorite local boy coming home after a stint in the service. He might have stayed in the Air Force except that less than 3 months after completing an 18 month tour in Saudi, they were already planning to send him back. With that, he elected not to reenlist. A tough decision, but the prospect of another year and a half in a tent in the desert just didn't appeal to him like it once did. "Must be getting old and soft" he mused. Once back on his home turf, Nate was hired on a temporary fill basis until he could attend either the State or a nearby city's police academy. Although officially Officer Young, he was known around town as Officer Nate and by other cops as "rookie" or "rookienate". A moniker for more private use and always called out with a wink or a smile. It was pretty obvious to those around him, that Officer Nathan Young was being groomed for the fast track in the local PD. His exemplary Air Force record, and college scores displayed the type of leadership and intellect the Police chief had been working hard to recruit. Officer Nate had jumped in from the start, working with the local schools, he had become a favorite with the kids, from elementary through to the high school. His easy style and professional bearing allowed him to just go onto the high school campus, sit down and start shooting the stuff with the kids. He reached out to some of the "wild" and "out of control" kids and seemed to make a difference. He was involved, he cared, and he respected the kids, and they respected him. His talks during assembly on character, self- respect, and consequences always held the audience's attention. He started involving local senior citizens and youth groups in forming "foster grandparents". He taught the seniors about any phone scams or cons directed at seniors and set up a volunteer hotline to respond to questions and problems faced by the seniors. Somehow he managed to get a brand new McGruff (the Crime Dog) costume from a closing Air Force Base, that was just another one of those "things" he could do. He was instrumental in implementing the bike patrols in town, which really seemed to bring the people closer to the police. It seemed that morale was up in the department and crime was down in town. People were taking back the streets and neighborhoods and weren't going to put up with having to hide after dark. It's just over a year, and Officer Nate had already done so much. He didn't know it yet but he had been nominated for Citizen of the Year, and pretty much had a lock on it when the other two nominees withdrew themselves and threw their support behind Nate. Off duty, Nate had begun to date one of his high school sweethearts, Kristi. Kristi had just returned to town as the City Administrator, preparing to take the position of City Manager when the current manager's contract expires. After getting her Master's in Government and Administration, she couldn't wait to return to her hometown, and was especially happy when Nate returned a year later. The Mayor joked that the town would be closed on their wedding day because everyone would be there, probably truer than he might think. Yet another day passed in the county lockup. After beating up a couple more cell mates, Vaughn was pretty much granted a "private room". But again his anger was flaring, it had been 2 weeks since his arrest. How could he have let that fucking punk take him? It will never happen again!! "Stan!" he yelled. "What now?" Stan called from the opposing cell. "When we get out, you know what we're gonna do?" asked Vaughn. "Yeah, I'm going to get the hell out of town," replied Stan. "NO! You stupid fucker! We're gonna break that cop! We're gonna tear that Officer Nate in half! I'm going to hurt him to where he'll regret the day he ever cuffed Vaughn West!!" he yelled back. "I don't know Vaughn, maybe we can get out of this, my folks will get me a lawyer, I'll just make sure he takes care of you too!" reasoned Stan. Vaughn snapped back, "No fucking way, I'm going to hurt him, I'm going to squeeze the life out of him and just before he's dead, I'm going to cut him, just so I can tell him he's bleeding! Yeah, he's just so fucked up!" Vaughn sits back on the bunk and remembers "that" night. As arranged, they met the boat at the pier. The Latino looking guy flashed the gun under his coat as Vaughn and Stan approached. They both held their arms out slightly from their sides, to indicate they were unarmed. They climbed aboard the boat, and the man with the gun told them they had to take two briefcases to a rest stop on the interstate. Once there….. details were given and they would leave with two more identical briefcases, containing their payment. "Once you leave here, do not stop, do not look back, go directly to the rest stop. Do not fail us amigo!" were the man's last words. Vaughn and Stan drove a few block from the pier when Vaughn said, "Let's do us a line, they'll never notice a little missing." Laughing, Stan agreed. Vaughn pulled the car into an alley in the old warehouse district. Pulling to the back of the alley, Vaughn and Stan took one of the briefcases out and set it on the trunk and picked the lock open with a nail file. Their eyes opened wide as they found inside, a half dozen plastic wrapped bricks of white powder, "coke, snow, blow, heaven!" cried Vaughn. He carefully picked up each brick and shook them, turned them over and around, brushed them, trying to get enough loose powder to make a couple of good lines for him and Stan. But luck wasn't with them. Barely enough powder to scrape together fell from the bricks. Vaughn pulled out his boxcutter. "What are you doing Vaughn?" asked Stan. "I'm going to get us a sample man, relax" Vaughn snapped. From the other end of the alley, Officer Nate and his bike patrol partner Officer Dave were observing the suspicious activities of this well known duo. Dave called in for back up as they started riding up behind Vaughn and Stan. Just as Vaughn cut into the bag, Dave called out from about 20 feet away, "you guys having a problem?" Startled, like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar, Vaughn and Stan jumped and turned around. Facing two city cops, they just stammered. Dave repeated, "you guys having a problem?" Before Vaughn could answer, Stan said "Yeah, we just found this and were going to see what it was before we called you." Vaughn was boiling, you could hear distinctive parts of his cussing under his breath. Nate dismounted his bike and started to walk to the right, Dave dismounted and started to walk to the left. "Turn around and put your hands behind your head guys, you're under arrest for felony possession of controlled substances." Dave ordered. With guns drawn, Dave motioned for Nate to cuff Stan first. Nate called on Stan to take 5 steps backwards and get down on his knees. He then proceeded to cuff the left wrist and then the right and directed Stan, as he assisted him, to lay face down and stay still. Dave then directed Vaughn to get down on his knees. Even on his knees, this guy's tall, thought Dave. Vaughn was leaning slightly forward as Dave took one wrist and began to apply the cuff while Nate covered. Just before the cuff snapped, Vaughn threw his head backward catching Dave in the gut, knocking the wind out of him and causing him to drop his gun. Jumping up he pulled Dave between him and Nate. Nate yelled, "Let him go, you won't get out of here, so just release him now!!" Dave started to break Vaughn's grip on him when Vaughn drew back and unleashed one powerful punch square in Dave's face. Nate shuddered at the sound of breaking bone and watched Dave's body go limp. Then as quick as he had stood up, Vaughn threw Dave's limp body at Nate and started to run. The force of Dave landing on him knocked down Nate. He laid Dave on his back, and looked down at his partner. Calling for urgent back up, "officer down", Nate watched as Vaughn ran down the alley. Dave began to moan and come around when the first back up arrived on the scene. Officer Jeannie Brown was the first on the scene, being pregnant and restricted to light duty, Nate instructed her to stay with Dave, guard Stan and direct any other backup to follow him. Nate was off on his bike. As he was coasting down another alley, about 2 blocks from the first one, Nate just caught a glimpse of Vaughn as he jumped out from behind some crates and tackled him, knocking him off of his bike and onto the ground. Nate jumped to his feet as did Vaughn. With a massive swing, Vaughn knocked Nate into a stack of boxes with one arm. Vaughn then grabbed Nate by the shirt collar, lifting and holding him in the air in front of him. In desperation, Nate, still wearing his bike helmet, headbutted Vaughn between the eyes. Vaughn was sufficiently staggered that he dropped Nate, who then kicked the back of Vaughn's knees as hard as he could. Bringing the big guy to his knees, Nate pounced on his back and before he regained his composure, snapped the cuffs on Vaughn. "That mother fucker!!! How could that punk cuff me like that?" throwing anything that wasn't bolted down around the cell, Vaughn started another tirade as Stan sat back, listened and watched. The next morning, some strings were pulled, favors called in and Stan's lawyer got him released on his own recognizance, and he got the same for Vaughn. The Chief had a note on his desk, to warn Nate about the release of Stan and Vaughn before he got off this round of night shifts. It was going to be one of those rare long weekends, Friday through Monday off. As midnight approached, Nate got in a good workout in the gym, hit the showers and got back into his normal patrol uniform. He was supposed to give the latewatch a briefing on a series of drug arrests and then head home. "Why won't they just let me do this in Bike Patrol gear" he asked himself. An hour later Nate was on his way out. The Chief got busy in a meeting and never thought about the message until Nate had already gone. Oh well, wasn't Nate going camping this weekend anyway? He won't have to worry about it until Tuesday. Nate was walking out into the near deserted parking lot, hmm don't remember that van before. Must be Dave's in-laws', he said something about using their car for a few days, Nate thought to himself. Walking up to his car, Nate saw something shiny on the pavement. He looked over and in the darkness, he could see it was a police shield. He stepped towards the van to pick it up, heard the driver's door click and ******* ……………………. From inside the van, Vaughn watched as Nate walked across the dark parking lot. Sitting back and low in the driver's seat, he thought for a moment that Nate could see him when he gave the van a strange look. But with the dark tint of the windows, there is no way he can see inside. "Come on, just a little closer" he whispered. "Yeah, what's this? OK, Pick it up now… closer… Ahh yes, ok then!" Just as Nate bent down to pick up the shield, Vaughn kicked open the driver's door, smashing it onto the top of Nate's head. The force sent him flying 6 to 8 feet back. Nate landed flat on his butt, looked straight ahead, totally blank expression, his eyes rolled back, his body jerked twice and he fell backwards. Sprawled out, unconscious on the dark parking lot. His body twitched a couple more times. "Fuck man, he's spasming, you fucking killed him." a panicked Stan whispered. Vaughn grinned, "Naw, he's just out for a while, c'mon, let's load him up," said Vaughn. With that they picked him up and carried him into the back of the van, cuffed him, blindfolded and gagged him. "Get his keys, Stan." Vaughn hurriedly called. Stan fumbled, digging deep into his tight uniform pockets, finally coming up with the keys. "We have to take his car to the airport?" he asked. Vaughn just grinned back, "let's go!" Slowly the loud buzzing and banging in his head brought Nate back to consciousness. With a wakening jerk, he started to move but damn it hurt. He raised his hand to his head; it felt as though it had been split in half. His trembling fingers explore the top of his head, doesn't feel open, feels dry, jeez, what happened? Finally opening his eyes, he saw nothing but darkness. "Hello?" he called out. "Any one there?" Waiting for an answer from the darkness but none came. Nate continued lying on his back for a few minutes, trying to get some idea as to where he was, what happened, and why? In the pitch-blackness he couldn't make out any shape or form. He even began to wonder if he was actually seeing at all, could he be blinded? "Hello? Anyone? Hello?" he called again. Trying to piece together any details he could. The floor was soft, padded, like the mats in the gym, but gritty and dirty. There was a slight locker room smell in the air, but he could be mistaken, it was really musty, stale. Where could he be? He slowly started to get up. On one knee, he steadied himself, rubbing his head and neck. There was no doubt in his mind that whatever he hit, or hit him, it sure as hell hit hard. He reached down to his side but his gun and utility belt were gone. He made it up to his feet, acknowledging to himself that it's tough trying to steady yourself in the dark. From the corner of the room, the two figures watched Nate struggle to stand. Silent, smiling and exchanging hand signals, they were indeed satisfied with the performance of the NightVision goggles. They could see everything in the room, but they couldn't be seen. Vaughn and Stan elbowed each other and suppressed their laughs when Nate fell to the ground, still dizzy and disoriented. Vaughn motioned that it was time for the earplugs. He and Stan twisted them into place. Watching Nate do the blind man's walk, hands out, feeling for anything, Vaughn held the remote control, his finger on the button, waiting for the right moment. That moment was now, pressing the play button room was flooded with the high volume sounds of some serious heavy metal. The drums pounding, guitars screaming and the feedback; Nate grabbed his head, covering his ears and fell to his knees. Vaughn was thrilled, the arena sound system he salvaged was way too overpowering for the small room; he thought -- perfect! Vaughn and Stan moved in on Nate, circling him, both barefoot and dressed only in lightweight sweat pants, they closed in. Vaughn yielded first strike privileges to Stan, who raised his foot high and kicked Nate alongside his head, knocking him to the ground. Nate scrambled to his feet, trying to see an image, a shape, anything. Unable to see, unable to hear - SMACK, Vaughn's open hand hits the back of Nate's head. He turns, "who are you?" he yells, certain he can't be heard over the loud music. Nate assumes a defensive posture, but even his years of martial arts training didn't prepare him for this. Another slap to the head, kick to the side, kick to the gut, by the time Nate could react and cover he was being attacked from another angle. Then the attacks changed, a quick grab of his balls, then a pinch on his chest, as soon as he reached for the offending hand another was grabbing him, violating him elsewhere. "What's the matter, can't you just fight?" he yelled, "come on, face me, let me see you!" Stan and Vaughn were laughing, indeed getting a sadistic pleasure tormenting their captured cop. Striking virtually at will, they pinched, slapped, groped and fondled their prey; keeping him turning, off balance and unable to mount a defense. Suddenly the awful stinging in his side, Nate knew that feeling, he had been hit with a stun gun. He fell to the ground, the buzzing in his ears, his shaking, uncontrollable limbs. Then he realized the other presence, for the first time more than just hands and feet in the darkness. Straddling him, barely illuminated by the spark of the stun gun, Nate tried to focus as the figure bent down and drilled a punch into the middle of his chest. Gasping for air, still shaken from the stun gun, Nate felt the buttons popping off of his uniform shirt as it was being ripped open and torn off his body. Then another shot from the stun gun, right on his nipple. Kicking, shaking and screaming inaudibly from the shock, Nate could only wait in the noisy darkness and gasp for breath as he felt the figure sit on his chest. He felt fingers probing around his lips, parting them and slipping in between his teeth, pushing deeper into his mouth. Nate would have none of this so he bit down on the fingers, but as soon as he started exerting pressure another jolt from the stun gun blasted into his neck. His eyes and mouth were wide open from the pain, shakily gasping for breath, his body still tingling from the previous shocks. The fingers again began to push their way to the back of his mouth, Nate held his mouth open, exploring under his tongue, the insides of his cheeks. The reminding pressure of the stun gun against his neck, the occasional raising and discharging over his face, Nate was quick to understand that he was not to bite. His fear now, was not to bite what? Just as he feared, the fingers withdrew and he felt a hot, rigid bulk of flesh pressing along his mouth. Trying to keep his mouth closed, he felt the big hands of his assailant caress his face, thumbs sliding along his jaw, and then pressing hard at the corner of his jaw, forcing his mouth wide open as the sweaty mass forced its way deep into his mouth. Gagging, trying to cough it out, Nate's mouth was being entered, violated, raped by a huge, hard cock. Slowly stroking deeper, his captor's hands holding his mouth tight around his member and head in place as he increased his rhythm. Choking and close to puking, tears were flowing from Nate's eyes, he can handle a fight, he can handle getting beaten, but why would anyone expect him to handle this? Who and why would someone, anyone do this to him? As the thrusts of the rape of his mouth became more forceful, Nate was even more terrorized as he felt another set of hands begin to unfasten his belt and loosen his uniform pants. He tried to kick free of the hands, but a quick, hard squeeze to his balls and the point of a knife or other sharp object dragging across his abs persuaded him to stop. He felt his pants and briefs being pulled off of his hips and legs, leaving him completely exposed. His head was pulled tightly to the torso of the mouth rapist, his nose buried in pubic hair. The rapist's cock was pushed and held deep in Nate's mouth. Nate could feel the hot, thick, vile liquid shooting against the back of his throat, filling his mouth. Abstract thoughts and images filled Nate's mind, the revulsion, the horror of another man cumming in his mouth, who could hate him this much? The wet and sticky cock, still hard, was pulled from Nate's mouth and rubbed all over his face, his eyes, and his hair. He felt his violator raise up off of him, "let it be over", he prayed. It wasn't. He turned his head, rolled to his side, puked and passed out. Vaughn turned off the music and turned up the lights. He stood gloating over the naked beaten body of this cop. This so called super cop who busted and cuffed him. This cop, who would know before Vaughn was through with him, who is the boss. He would know you don't cuff Vaughn West! He would just know. Vaughn picked Nate up and threw him over his shoulder and carried him on a table. Stan brought out the sponge and bucket and gave him a quick wash to clean the blood, spit, vomit, dirt and cum from Nate's battered body. "Make sure he's nice and clean, Stan. I want him clean," Vaughn grinned. Nate woke up to a stinging in his arm, he managed to open his eyes and saw Vaughn holding his arm down while Stan was injecting him. "What are you doing to me?" asked Nate. Vaughn just reached up, patted Nate on the cheek, smiled leaned in, just inches from his face and said "Don't worry about it, by the way, you have a very sweet mouth. I really enjoyed it." Nate tried to get up, but his body felt detached, not responding. "I see the injection is working, it's a paralyzing agent. Funny how it works, you can feel everything but can't do anything about it," Vaughn laughed. Turning away and then facing Nate again, Vaughn had a large chunk of ice in his hand. Laying it on Nate's chest, he started rubbing it and holding it over Nate's left nipple, then the right. Alternately icing and playing with his nipples, getting them hard and cold. Stan then appeared with a long stainless steel needle in one hand, pinched Nate's nipple with the other; "No, no, don't" Nate pleaded; and Stan forced the needle through his flesh. Nate let out a hoarse moan of pain as the needle went through him and a large ring was slipped into the hole. Once again, Stan grabbed the other nipple and repeated the procedure. Nate had never defaced his body with tattoos or piercings, now he was the involuntary recipient of two pierced nipples. He moaned from the pain as Vaughn attached a chain between the two rings. The two captors laughed hysterically as they played with the chain and Nate's nipples.