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04 Eylül 2023, 01:32
Subject: The Domination of Trooper Butch Randle - installment 1 (authoritarian) Butch Randle (his real name), finished getting dressed for the day's work. He had already pulled on the regulation boots (when he had the opportunity, he wore his own fancier pair. No such chance today), which he had polished to spit shine the night before. They came up his battleship gray pants, which fit snugly. The long sleeve version of the uniform shirt, and the regulation clip on tie, were on, and fitted his body to a tee. He wasn't as fond of the long sleeve shirt as the short sleeve one: the long sleeves hid his developed guns, and the tie worked to conceal the mat of silver hair that always popped out on his short sleeve one. His favorite part of the uniform was the epaulette pockets on the shirt because... he could pretend he was having difficulty opening the button, and get a quick self feel of a nipple. Randle looked himself over one more time in the window: "Yeah, stud. You're hot. Who wouldn't fall for you? Lucky woman who gets you," he told himself, and then flicked his left nipple one more time . "What could he say?" he grinned as he turned away from the window. He HAD learned something from watching clips about, as he put it, "fag sex," and what he learned about nipples was directly relevant to his own: they were wired to his cock. He tried to get his girlfriend, Shelley, to work them when they hooked up, and she did but... not hard enough. Maybe that evening, if he got home early enough, he'd pull out the clothes pins he used when she wasn't available to get himself closer to orgasm. Trooper Randle was in better shape today , 12 years after he had joined the State Troopers, than he was when he joined. The premature death of his father may have been the reason: his father was out of shape, and his heart gave out when he was just 52. It was a week after his dad's death that Butch had given up smoking and joined the gym. Butch had been born when his dad was 28 and his mom 26. Butch had joined the troopers when he was 23. He looked older than his 35 years, mostly because of the head of curly white hair - not salt and pepper, but white - that he had. He had gone "gray" in college. No one knew why. There was no history of that condition in his family. Given the way his mind worked, Butch turned it to his advantage: a man who looked older, but could perform like someone under 40 - surprised everyone until they learned the truth. Until he had joined the gym, Randle was in good shape - much better than some of the big bellied, older guys he worked with, but when he looked at the pictures of himself then and now, and the differences between the flapping short sleeves on the geeky young man (then), and the short sleeves that seemed to strain to hold in his muscles (now), the way the ass of his pants sagged because he needed a larger waist (then), compared to the snug lines hie projected (now), he was justifiably proud. He went to the gym three times a week and then on Saturday and Sunday. He had met Shelley there: she was a personal trainer. He didn't use one - he felt he was in better shape than most of them - but he had spotted her pushing one of her clients one day. "Hey," he had laughed. "If I pushed a perp the way you just pushed that guy, I'd get written up," Shelley had been racking weights and her head was istanbul escort (https://frenois.net) down. She didn't even look up. "That's why I left the force. No respect for discipline, even there." Butch liked her right away. He agreed: discipline was lacking in all areas of life, including his own: his dreams were filled with fantasies of Shelley tying him up, paddling him, forcing him to lick boots or shoes, or struggling to escape from tight hogties while she masturbated in front of him. There were many mornings when Butch woke up in a pool of his own semen after those dreams. Not today though. He was in a bit of a cranky mood because one of his colleagues, Sparks, had called in and that meant that Randle would have to cover Sparks' territory. That territory included a strip of road that veered off into an area that had a nickname: "The land of lost boys." It was a cruising spot. Sparks worked during the day, so he didn't see much, but he reported back at the end of the day sometimes about coming across a two some or - GROSS - a three or foursome that he had to break up. Technically, he didn't HAVE to break them up if what was happening occurred behind the cars so no one could see the "participants," but he, like most of the troopers, Randle included, took some joy in breaking up the guys. Hell, if THEY couldn't have a sex break during the day, why should "those fags" get one? "Lookin good there, Butch," one of the three or four gay Troopers teased Randle before everyone went out on their shifts. His disdain for gay guys was well known, as was his inclination to flirt by striking suggestive poses, or walking around the locker room with his shirt open, or even going so far as to say out loud "if I found a guy who pleased me as much as Shelley did, I'd switch teams tomorrow." (Of course, what he meant by that was that he'd take a guy as a bottom . NO MAN was gonna get his ass, and he was NOT putting his mouth on any man's cock). Randle took a quick look at his watch: 4pm. Another 90 minutes. Boring, routine day. The way he liked Mondays. "SHIT. What the cluster fuck is going on at Lost Boy Land?" He saw a group of about six cars, all parked in the cul de sac. He didn't see anyone, but.... he turned on the siren. Sometimes, that worked to scare guys out . Not this time. "FUCK!" he said to himself. "Gonna have to check myself." He pulled the car over, and got out. He walked behind the cars and into a combination of fucking and sucking that ... well, damn if he wasn't getting hard!. "HEY GIRLS! Let's break this up!" One of the guys who was fucking another one looked at him. "You're not Sparks." "Damn right I'm not. You're lucky it's me and not him. " The one who spoke to him answered. "You mean you bottom? Then yeah, we ARE in luck." "WHAT THE.... WHAT THE...." Randle was shaking his head. Did he hear what he thought he just heard. Was the guy suggesting that Sparks took part and... his brain was exploding. "NO I DO NOT BOTTOM AND I DO NOT TOP. AND AS OF NOW, NONE OF YOU DO EITHER. YOU'VE GOT 90 SECONDS TO GET YOUR CLOTHES PULLED TOGETHER AND GET OUT OF HERE." "Sure enough officer," one of them said. There WAS a mad dash as they pulled on enough clothes to be "decent," and headed to their cars. One of them, a guy who made Randle look like he was out of shape, smiled as he walked by. "Heard about ataköy escort (https://atakoyilan.com) you, Officer Randle. Heard you were a hard ass. Didn't know you HAD a hard one. Wouldn't mind tapping it either." "DON'T TRY ME, MISTER. JUST GET A MOVE ON." The guy laughed. "Oh, I would LOVE to try you. " he had on a baseball cap and he tipped it. "Adam Worth here. See ya at the gym, muscle boy." He got in his car and drove off. "Muscle boy? Gym?" Butch didn't pay much attention to anyone at the gym so he couldn't place this Adam character. But he called him "Muscle boy". That WAS his nickname at the gym, and no one knew it except the guys at the gym. He decided he'd give it a look when he was there. Next day, he saw Adam. He worked in a tank top that had gotten sweaty and sticky . Butch was standing in front of his weights, transfixed. "Like what you see, Randle? " Adam flashed him a smile before he dead lifted a shit load more than Butch could. Butch huffed, exhaled, and... dropped his weights. "Better luck next time stud. Try to focus on weight, not length." Adam laughed as he groped himself before he went off to the locker. "Why the fuck am I hard?" Butch thought, and tried to focus on his workout. It wasn't easy. He wasn't going to see Shelley that night, so when some of the other guys asked if he wanted to join them for some after work beer, he didn't say no. Sparks was one of them. He was giving Sparks an odd look. "Hey, Butch, something wrong? You're looking at me kinda weird." "Nah, Sparks, just something someone said..." "Who? What?" "Well, I broke up a little tea party at Lost Boys yesterday and... they asked if you were there to top." Sparks broke into laughter. "Is THAT what they said? That's funny. Yeah, I usually leave the Monday meeting alone because they don't bother anyone, but last time someone yelled "FUCK ME DADDY" and I said that I would if I had my personal lube. Just jibing them. That's it." Butch wasn't sure, but he wanted to be convinced, so he was. "Yeah, they said they were glad to see someone new... someone who'd bottom." Sparks laughed some more. "Talk about barking up the wrong tree." Randle caught a ride to the bar with Sparks and two other guys. Randle was the designated driver, so he'd stop after one, and get everyone back to their own vehicle. As they walked in, Johnson, one of the guys, gave a look. "SHIT. There's no four seat tables left. " "Well, " Franklin added "There's that one over there. Just one guy." Randle looked. Was it... Yeah, it was Adam Worth. He was nursing a beer, alone at the four top. "Hey bud. Funny to run into you again. Wondering if I could persuade you to give us your table." "Nope." said Adam with a smile. "Uh, did I just hear you say what you did?" "If you heard 'nope' you did. I'm waiting for some people and this is gonna be our table. " "But, we're all here already." Adam smiled. He sensed something yesterday and he sensed something now. "You don't have jursidiction here, Trooper Randle so... sorry. Maybe if you had left me alone while I had that SWEET ASSED BOY I'd give it up." Then he threw back his head and laughed . "Hey that's not funny, Worth. I was doing my job." "You were being a strict shit, Randle. And like I say, you got no power here. " Randle looked at Worth, hands on his hips. "You want life made hell for ya?" "Nope. And aksaray escort (https://ladyescorts.net) it's not gonna be. Because, Randle... when we get down to it, if you give me trouble, I'm gonna kick your ass." Butch laughed. "You sound so sure." "Because I am." "Fucking faggot." "Fucking closet case." THAT shut Butch up. He was about to walk away, and then Sparks had an idea. "HEY. How about you two go at it? Maybe wrist wrestling? If Butch takes you, we get the table. If you win, we'll leave." Adam looked at Butch. "You up for it, limp wrist?" Butch grabbed a chair and pushed it back. "GAME ON. " Randle knew he was in trouble within 90 seconds. He had forgotten how Worth had handled the weights, and he felt his wrist slowly being pushed back. Adam smiled. He whispered "How's it going muscle boy? Your man pussy itching?" SLAM! Randle's wrist was on the table. "FUCK! YOU FUCKING CHEATED!" "Ha ha. Sound like Trump. You lost so it had to be rigged. " "HEY FUCK YOU FAGGOT. " A manager from the bar came over "Randle, calm down. It's not the open road. Or you'll have to leave. " "Leaving's a good idea." Randle got up from his seat and stormed off out of the bar. "SOMEONE is having a hissy fit," Sparks laughed. Worth got up. "Lemme go talk to him. Take the table guys. " Outside, Butch was sulking. He actually considered himself a DAMN GOOD wrist wrestler, and yeah, he was gonna lose anyway, but... Adam was right: his man pussy HAD been itching. He was thinking what it would be like if Adam worked his nipples instead of Shelley. And it had an effect. He felt a hand on his shoulder. "How's it going bud?" It was Adam. Butch recognized the voice. "HEY. GET YOUR FAGGOT HAND OFF OF ME." Butch whirled around and made to throw a fist. Adam grabbed him by the wrist, smiling. "Easy boy, easy. We faggots are awfully tough." Slowly, he twisted Butch's wrist behind his back and pushed him up against the wall. "LET ME GO. THIS IS FUCKING ASSAULTING AN OFFICER." "Who's off duty and who started it." Adam pushed Butch's arm up. "Call me Mr. Faggot, " and I'll let you go." "FUCK YOU." "Ha ha ha. Off the mark stud." He pushed Butch's arm up further. Butch screamed. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGG. OK OK. Mr. FAGGOT MR FUCKING FAGGOT." Adam didn't let go. "How's that itchy man pussy?" "FUCK YOU. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGG" Adam pushed his arm up. "You want it scratched, stud." "NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS." Then he felt Adam's body pressing against him. He felt Adam's mouth up on his ear. "I don't need handcuffs to take YOU prisoner, bitch cop. I could just take you right now, throw you in my car, drag you to Lost boys and fuck the shit outta you before I turn you over to whomever's there. YOU KNOW THAT?" "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYAAAA. YEAH. I DO. I DO.. MR FAGGOT." Butch felt Adam's other hand on his ass. "I see you when you squat. Like I said, wanted to tap this for a long, long time. I'm gonna get it." "NO YOU'RE NOT. NNNNNNNNNGGGGGG" He felt Adam's tongue up and down his ear. "You're coming home with me stud. And you're gonna get what you've wanted for a long long time." His hand left Butch's ass, and came around, grabbing a nipple. He twisted it hard. "OH FUCK. OH FUCK!!!!!" Adam's fingers didn't ease up. "You coming?" Butch answered with what was almost a whimper. "Yes. Yes Mr. Faggot. " "Ha ha. Tonight it's Sir. Or Sir Adam. You keep your hands behind you. Let's go snowman head." Butch's mouth had gone dry. He fought for moisture and answered. "yes sir." And ten minutes later he was in the passenger seat of Adam Worth's car, heading back to Adam's house.