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Subject: {ASSM} "Departmental Property" (M/MMM, CBT, Bondage, NC, Hum)
Date: Fri, 17 Mar 2000 17:10:02 -0500
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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





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