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From: Daemon Way <daemonway@yahoo.ca>
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Subject: {ASSM} ST: "Teacher - Part 54" (nc, mc, M/b, M/t, transgender)
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Date: Fri, 02 Mar 2007 09:10:02 -0500
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TEACHER - PART FIFTY-FOUR

By Daemon Way

daemonway@yahoo.ca

	"Ravi?" asked the policeman as he leaned over and
read the name on the boy's name tag.
	"Yes sir?"
	"What sort of name is that?"
	"Ravi is the name of one of the Adityas, one of the
sun gods.  It is a fairly common name in India, and an
honourable one."
	"Yeah, well this is America, not India.  When
immigrants come to this country they should adopt
American names."  The boy wanted to say he hadn't come
to this country, and nor had his parents.  Both of his
parents had been born here, right in Riverside
actually.  He knew better than to say anything
however.
	"And the American God," added the cop with the buzz
cut white-blond hair.  "Worshipping the sun for
fucksake, what next?"  Ravi wanted to point out that
there were many gods worshipped in America, and if he
meant the Christian God, He could hardly be called
American, but again, he knew when to keep his mouth
shut, and this was one of those times. 
	"That a boy name or a girl?" asked the other cop.
	"Boy," Ravi responded tensely as he felt his heart
rising in his chest.  The sixteen-year-old knew where
the cop was going with that question.  "It is short
for Ravindra."
	"Sounds like a girl's name."  The cop looked him up
and down critically.  "Hard for a man to tell with
that long girly hair and effeminate hairnet."
	"It is the law to wear a hairnet when working with
food."  Ravi knew he shouldn't have said it, but he
could not help it.
	"Oh right.  And I'm sure you obey every one of the
laws of this country."
	"Yes sir."
	"That's good.  It would be a shame to see you thrown
in jail.  A pretty boy like you would be real
popular," observed the cop with the buzz cut.
	"Of course I suppose your kind wouldn't mind that,"
the cop with the red hair said with a scowl.
	"Ravi, you are needed in the back," interceded an
older man who ran the til.  "Of course there is no
charge for the donuts, officers, nor the coffee," he
said with a respectful nod of the head.
	"This some sort of bribe?" the redheaded cop asked
although they'd not been paying ever since the shop
had opened up and they'd begun stopping there for
their daily donut and coffee.
	"Oh no.  It is our simple way of saying thank you for
the honourable job you do protecting us."
	"Yeah, well, it's a thankless job, but we enjoy it." 
Glancing at each other, the two smiled and taking the
donuts and coffee, headed out the door.
	"Jesus, are there no white people left in the service
industry?"
	"Freaking foreigners have pushed them all out. 
Problem is those diaper heads will work for less and
kiss your ass for letting them."
	"That boy behind the counter would make a lot of
money selling his ass.  With those eyes I thought for
sure he was a girl."
	"Probably gives it away free.  You know how
promiscuous these East Indians are."
	"Probably gives it to the old man at the til and his
father and uncles besides.  Those people don't know
the meaning of incest."
	"Just having him touch my coffee cup gives me the
creeps."  He sniffed his coffee.  "Surprised
everything doesn't smell like curry."
	"Fuckin' diaper heads."
	"Yeah."
	"So, what say we swing over to Sixteenth Street Mall
and see what crimes are happening today."
	The two cops smiled.  They knew each other well.  It
was a short drive over to the mall, just far enough to
give them time to finish their coffee and donuts.
	"Lord in Heaven, will you look at that!" the senior
of the two said as they approached the mall.  "It's
what, four, four-thirty, and the twinks are already
out selling their bodies."
	"He looks familiar.  We bust his ass before?"
	"No  . . .  we've never caught him doing anything,
except the day we took those two girls over to the
Economy Inn to teach them a lesson, and we were sort
of preoccupied then," the redheaded cop observed with
a grin.
	"Oh yeah, now I remember.  You know, that was a great
idea you had.  Haven't seen those two little whores on
the street since."
	"Sometimes a man just has to take things into his own
hands," Eric responded smugly and grinned at his play
on words.  The two men laughed.  Yes, they knew each
other very well.
	Two months had gone by since the two cops had taken
it upon themselves to administer a little of their own
justice on two twinks flashing their stuff, but that
wasn't the only reason they hadn't seen the two young
teens hanging around the Sixteenth Street Mall since. 
It had been a big factor for the first three weeks,
and then just as Molly and Trang had begun getting
over their fear and humiliation, other things had come
up to occupy them so they didn't have as much time to
spend there.  When they did, they had Billy's pimps
and pushers keeping an eye out so they could warn them
if the two cops were in the area.  They were also
providing the same service for Anton.  He was after
all about to become Billy's brother-in-law.
	"Maybe it's time we did the same with this boy," Eric
observed.
	Mike looked at the twelve-year-old posing there on
the street corner, his tight, tattered jeans revealing
his crotch and his tight young butt, his saucy eyes
scanning the street for potential johns.  "I dunno,
man.  I mean fucking those two young girls was one
thing.  They were asking to be laid, and that young
gook would've had her cherry cracked any day so why
shouldn't it have been by a real man?  But a guy, and
a twink besides, that's different.  I don't think I
could, physically you know.  Just the idea of two guys
together-."
	"What are you going on about, man?  I wasn't thinking
of fucking him," Eric interjected.  "Lord in Heaven,
there's no fucking way I could get it up with another
man, and certainly not with a kid.  What I was
thinking was taking him aside and roughing him up a
little, you know, showing him what we think of fag
boys, maybe threatening to cut off his dangles if we
find him selling himself again."
	"Oh, yeah, now that I can agree with."
	"Lord in Heaven, man, did you really think I meant
fuck the little cocksucker?  What sort of man you
think I am?"
	"Well, not that type, for sure.  That was why I was
confused," Mike lied.  "I mean, I just couldn't see
you doing that sort of thing."  He wrinkled up his
nose in disgust.
	To tell the truth, Mike Polanski knew his partner's
temper and volatile nature and could see him doing
almost anything.  They'd been partners now for three
years, ever since Eric had returned to the force after
taking a three-year stint over in Afghanistan, and
driving this particular beat for two of those years. 
You learn a lot about a guy when you spend eight hours
a day five days a week with him, more time than a guy
spends with his wife actually.  He knew Eric hated
fags more than anything else on this earth, even more
than spics and niggers and all the other foreigners
that had invaded America, more than the drug pushers
and the addicts, and way more than the teenage hookers
plying the streets.  He also knew Eric was one who saw
no problem bending the law when it came to dealing
with such trash, and didn't shy away from getting
physical when one had to.  The trash they dealt with
every day weren't even human so roughing them up was
justified.  Hell, he felt the same.  That was why they
were great partners.  Their superiors knew it too. 
That was why they'd paired the two of them up. 
	Spotting the cop car approaching him, Anton quickly
stepped back from the curb where he'd been flashing
his wares and tried to look natural, as natural as a
twelve-year-old goth boy with spiked hair, black
lipstick and eyeliner, and brass rings in his lower
lip and the corners of his eyebrows can look.  As the
cop car slowed, he turned and started walking.  The
thrift shop was closest but the owner didn't like him
coming in there.  Nor did the guy at the pawn shop two
doors down.  The old Chinese couple at the corner
grocery didn't mind him, and he could always buy a
pack of gum or something, but that was at the end of
the little strip mall.  He'd never get that far.
	"Hold it right there sonny!"
	He was tempted to tell the cop he'd hold anything the
cop wanted anywhere he suggested, but he knew that
would not be a wise thing, and especially not these
two cops.  They were bad news.  He slowly turned and
looked up at the two officers.  They were both tall
and muscular, and not bad looking for older men,
something that Anton had a lot of experience judging. 
They'd probably been quite handsome as teenagers.  The
redheaded one was the taller of the two, six foot two,
two hundred and twenty pounds of muscle, with green
eyes, and square chin.  His partner was just over six
foot and was probably twenty pounds heavier, but that
was packed into abs and pecs, not stomach.  His
white-blond hair was trimmed short in a buzz cut and
you could see the disgust in his deep blue eyes.
	"Is there something I can do for you officers?"
	"I don't think we're your type boy."
	"My type?" Anton asked, feigning innocence.
	"Don't play ignorant with me you faggot whore," the
bigger of the two men and obviously the one in charge
snapped.  "Now get in the car."
	"I wasn't doing anything."
	"And we're going to see to it that you continue not
doing anything.  Now get in," Mike ordered, grabbing
him by the back of his shirt and shoving him toward
the car roughly.
	"What is it that you want?" Anton asked as he glanced
about fearfully.
	"What we want is the likes of you off the street,"
Mike said as he pushed him into the back seat of the
cruiser.  "What we want is to send a message to every
little faggoty bitch and every pedo john just what
will happen to them if we find them doing business on
our beat."
	"But I wasn't-."
	"Just shut your pie hole faggot," Eric said as they
pulled away.
	Anton looked out the side and back windows nervously,
and as they pulled into an alley a few blocks away he
looked about even more nervously.  This was not good. 
The two cops were about to get out when a beat-up old
car pulled up at the end of the alley behind them.  A
black guy in his early twenties got out.  He paused,
lit up a cigarette, walked part way up the alley and
went into one of the back yards.  The cops waited a
moment and then opened the doors.  Two teenage boys,
Hispanic from their looks, came around the other end
of the alley, kicking a tin can.  They clattered down
the alley, past the car without so much as a look, to
the next street.  Glancing at each other, the two cops
were about to get out when a white kid on a bike came
around the corner and took a short cut through the
alley.
	"Lord in Heaven, what is this, Grand Central
Station?" grumbled Eric as the kid biked by.  They
waited again.  "Well, looks like we might have a few
moments of privacy."
	"Hey, if it's privacy that you were wanting, you
should have said," offered Anton.  "There's a motel
just a few blocks away.  The Economy Inn.  I . . .
well  . . .  that is  . . .  they  . . .  well I bet
they have a vacant room this time of day.  You know,
if you wanted to get some privacy, just us."  The look
on his face made it clear just what he was offering,
and his stammering didn't fool them that he wasn't a
regular at the Economy Inn.
	"You know, that's not a bad idea," Eric said as he
closed the door and started up the engine.  "A nice,
private room where nobody can interrupt us, so we can
have a nice long talk."  He glanced at Mike and the
two smiled.
	"Yeah, sure.  I'd love to talk to you two," Anton
said.  "I especially like to talk to guys in uniform,"
he added, emphasizing the word talk.  In his short
time on the street he'd heard it called many
euphemisms.  Sitting in the back of the cruiser, he
could not see that the smoldering in the cops' eyes
was of anger, not lust or he wouldn't have been
feeling so smug.
	When Mike entered the office of the Economy Inn, he
didn't have to say anything.  It had been two months
since he had dropped in around the same time in the
afternoon for a room, but he was not the sort of man
one easily forgot, and the clerk at the desk was very
good at knowing whom he should remember and whom he
should not.  He handed the policeman the keys to Room
137 and wished him a pleasant stay.  That the clerk
was assuming he was renting the room for the same
reason as the twink they'd picked up was obviously
thinking was fine with Mike.  Made it easier all the
way around.  He and Eric escorted Anton to the room.
	"So, what would you like first?" Anton asked, turning
on his charm.  "I bet you like to play rough."
	"You have no idea how rough," Eric said as he
unbuckled his holster and laid it on the wobbly night
table out of the kid's reach and began to remove his
tie.  "Why don't you drop your pants and bend over the
back of the chair there," he suggested as he unbuckled
his belt and removed it and Mike removed his holster
and then his tie.  The two tied Anton's wrists to the
seat of the chair with their ties so he was standing
on his tip toes, his stomach bent over the back of the
wooden chair.
	Mike drew back and swung the belt without holding
back.  Anton yelped, and it was no act.  His buttocks
stung like hell.  "How old are you, you little
faggot?"
	"Twelve."
	"Twelve?  Lord in Heaven!"  The belt cracked again
causing Anton to yelp once more.  "How many fuckin'
men have you picked up?"
	"I don't know."
	The belt smacked his backside again, leaving a long
red welt.  "Lying little snot.  How many?"
	"Ten, twenty."  The belt cut through the air and hit
his tender backside with a loud whack.  "Okay, fifty,
maybe, maybe seventy."
	"Fuck!" Eric snorted in disgust.
	"Then I guess you'll get fifty, maybe seventy lashes,
one for each filthy john you've picked up."  So much
for honesty!  Anton screamed out loudly as the belt
hit again, because of the searing pain, and in the
hopes someone would hear.  His backside was burning.
	"Jesus Christ, look at that," Mike observed.
	"What?"
	"The kid is liking it.  Look, he's getting hard."
	It was true.  Anton was boning up, despite the fear
and the pain.  Now that the cops had noticed, it began
to swell all the faster.  Being humiliated was a major
turnon.  The two cops were not the first to whip his
backside with a belt.  The
daddy-punishing-the-faggot-son was a common fantasy
he'd come to find out from selling his body on the
street.  Eric looked at his cock with disgust and
working up a thick gob, spat at it.  It hit his
swelling little cocklet and oozed down it and over his
hairless, still maturing balls.  His cock sprang up
fully extended in response to the feel of the slimy
warm spit and the humiliation of having his organ spit
upon.
	"Filthy little queer," snarled Mike as he grabbed
Anton by his spiked hair and jerking his head back
spit in his face.  "I can see where we're going to
have to get serious."  He slapped him across the face,
jerking his head back.
	"Yes, please," Anton pleaded.  "Punish me."  He said
it sincerely, but he knew this was no play acting this
time.
	"Jesus, I've nev-."
	Eric was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. 
"Officers?  Officers?  I am sorry to disturb you, but
there is a man out here who needs help."  The voice
was young, high pitched and with an accent.
	"What sort of help?"
	"My car was parked out front," said another voice, a
deep, African-sounding voice.   "Someone has broken
into it and stolen my stereo."
	The two police officers looked at each other and
rolled their eyes.  "All right.  One of us will be
right out," Eric called out.  That someone would rip
off a stereo in broad daylight and with a police car
in the lot didn't surprise them, not in this
neighbourhood.  That a guy parked in the lot of a
sleazy dump like the Economy Inn at five in the
afternoon would have the balls to call on the police
on the other hand was a surprise.  There was only one
reason a man would be in the hotel at that hour of the
day.  The guy couldn't be all that bright, but then
the clients at the Economy Inn probably weren't.  They
glanced at each other again and Mike indicated he'd
go.  Opening the door just enough to slip out so the
two men outside couldn't see Anton, he was surprised
to have it suddenly flung open and not two but a half
dozen men swarm into the room.  "What the-."
	"Well, well, you boys don't waste any time do you? 
Already got your bitch boy bent over and his pants
down, you nasty old buggers."  It was the same voice
as the one they'd heard a moment ago.  The man was a
nigger, with the body of a wrestler and an ugly face
to match.
	Eric glared at the speaker.  His size and ugliness
didn't frighten him.  "Just who do you think you're
talking to?"
	"Two sadistic pedo cops who get their kicks beating
up an underage working boy," the man who'd spoken
replied.
	"This isn't how it looks," Mike replied as he stepped
toward the night table.
	"Oh, it never is how it looks," one of the other men
said, another nigger, this one tall and slender with a
scar across his left cheek.  "Now don't you move
another inch or you'll lose your fingers."  He pulled
out a wicked looking knife and looked coldly at Mike. 
The cop was experienced enough to know the man meant
business.  Another one of the men, a small, agile
Mexican-looking man, slipped around Mike and picked up
the two revolvers.  A couple of the other men began to
untie Anton.
	"What is this?  Blackmail?"
	"Strip," said the first nigger, obviously the leader.
	"Let's cut to the chase.  You got us.   What do you
want?" Eric asked, buying them time.  He was no
rookie, and he knew he and Mike had to be careful.
	"I want you two to strip."
	"Now just a-."
	The man who had picked up the guns pistol-whipped
Eric with one of them, and as the cop lunged for him,
the others quickly grabbed him.  Thrusting Eric and
Mike against the wall they pinned their arms and legs.
	"Now let's get this straight," the leader of the
group snarled behind Eric.  "There are two of you, and
seven of us, not including your boy toy."
	"He's not-."
	Taking a two-foot hard rubber stick from his belt,
the man jabbed Eric in the small of his back.  "I
talk, you listen.  When I want you to speak, I'll pull
your chain.  Like this."  He grabbed Eric between the
legs from behind and yanked hard.  Still recovering
from the pain in his back, Eric didn't react, but he'd
remember.  Nobody touched him down there, especially
not a man, and especially not a stinking nigger. 
"Now, you're outnumbered, so just do as we say, and
things will go much nicer for you.  Understand?"  Eric
glared at the wall.  "Understand?" the man asked,
jabbing him in the back again.
	"Yes," he replied reluctantly
	"Good.  Now strip, both of you."
	"You know what sort of trouble you're going to be in
assaulting two police officers?" Mike asked as he
began to remove his jacket.
	"Two police officers about to have a romp with a
little underage boy," the man added.
	"That isn't-."
	The man swung the stick, clubbing Mike on the back of
the head.  "Don't matter.  Now if I don't see two
whitey bare asses and two sets of bare balls by the
time I count to ten, the next swing with this club
will be between the legs.   One  . . .  two. . . ."
	The two men reluctantly removed their jackets and
began to unbutton their shirts.  As the man continued
to count, they tried not to be obvious as they stopped
with their shirts and hurriedly unzipped their pants
and pushed them down, along with their boxers just as
he reached ten.
	"So, whatcha think?" the big nigger asked Anton as he
spun the two men around.
	"Not bad," Anton said as he looked at Eric's cock. 
Actually, it was a nice size but he wasn't about to
give the man the satisfaction of hearing that.
	"Sit on that chair and spread your legs," the man
ordered.  Eric hesitated and as the man raised the
club he reluctantly sat.  "Go ahead, enjoy yourself. 
You earned it," the man said to Anton.
	Anton immediately knelt down and reached for Eric's
dangling meat.
	"Get your fucking hands away from that," Eric snapped
as he slapped Anton's hands away.  His comment was
rewarded with a whack to the side of the head and a
poke in the gut.
	"Hey, we're not to damage them," said the tall nigger
with the scar.
	"That's going to be hard not to do if this one
doesn't wise up."
	"I think you are the ones who need to wise up," Eric
retorted despite his position.  "You have any idea
what you're getting yourself into here?"
	"Did you have any idea what you were getting into the
day you decided to rape those two little
thirteen-year-old girls that were just having a bit of
innocent fun?" the man said.  Eric and Mike glanced at
each other.  There was no way they would have related
what was happening at the moment with that incident
two months ago.
	"That what this is about?  What are you, their pimp?"
	"No.  This little weekend is courtesy of a friend of
theirs and from their . . . ah . . . movie producer,"
the man said, to the chuckles of several of the
others.  "They didn't particularly like hearing you
shoved your peckers up their private playgrounds.  So
they asked us to help them fix it so you never do that
sort of thing again."
	"I doubt very much if his was the only pecker up the
playground of the one I had," Eric retorted.  The gook
had been a virgin, but that probably just meant she
was getting it up the ass or going down on men.  Asian
girls preferred it that way.  "Now, wise up.  Those
two little whores aren't worth it.  Besides, you
really think you're going to get away with messing
with two policemen?"
	"And you wise up, you arrogant prick.  You really
think if we thought we had a worry about getting away
with this we'd be doing it?  You really think if we
thought you could cause us any trouble at all we'd let
you see our faces?"  Neither man had thought of that
in the heat of the altercation, and now that it had
been mentioned they had enough experience to know that
they were in big trouble.  It also slowly dawned on
the two men that it was strange it had taken whoever
was behind this two months to seek their revenge, and
even stranger that it was the very day they'd decided
to take their second street hooker to the Economy Inn.
 "Now you just sit back and let this boy have some
fun."
	Anton once again reached out, and this time took
Eric's limp organ in his hand, distracting the cop
from his present thoughts.  Eric tensed but didn't do
anything.  Anton slowly pulled back the foreskin. 
Eric inhaled deeply, but not with pleasure as he
glared down at the young boy.  He was going to pay for
this, and not just with a paddling of his backside. 
If the boy liked getting fucked up the ass he'd show
him what it was like to get fucked by a real man.
	Telling Mike to lie on his back on the bed, the
leader nodded for one of the men who had been keeping
to the back to step forward.
	"You!"
	Ravindra Shankar smiled down at the man as he sat
down on the edge of the bed and reached out and ran
his index finger along his jaw.  Mike tensed as the
boy continued down his neck to his chest and ran his
fingers through the man's coarse chest hair and over
his nipples.  He played with them for a while,
squeezing his fleshy breasts and running his
fingertips over his nipples, causing them to become
firm.  They had been especially sensitive this past
month and responded instantly.  "You have very soft
breasts," Ravi said softly with an appreciative smile.
 "So nice to touch.  You and I are going to have a
very nice time."
	Mike shuddered with revulsion but said nothing as the
slim brown fingers continued to squeeze and palpitate
his chest.  It was soft, and flabby.  He'd noticed
that over the past month, and concentrating on
exercises for his pecs and abs down at the gym had
just seemed to make it worse.  He'd also noticed Eric
was having the same problem.  There were some things
you couldn't change with age but he was surprised it
was happening to them so soon.  Hell, he was only
thirty-six, and Eric only four year's older.  As the
boy continued down over his abdomen, which had been
getting flabbier too he hated to admit, he quickly
forgot about his chest.  One hand continued down and
began caressing the inner side of his thigh, sending
spasms of arousal through his groin and through his
cock which had begun to swell with the stimulation of
his nipples.  The other hand cupped his large,
dangling balls and rolled them in his loose, hairy
sack just like he liked to do when he jerked off as a
teenager or now on those occasions when his wife was
not in the mood.  One thing he'd never been able to
get his wife to do was to play with his balls during
their foreplay.  His cock began to swell even faster
as a result of the boy's touch, and as he concentrated
on his swelling flesh and willed it to stop, it did
just the opposite.  Jesus, what was going on?  He
wasn't that sort of guy.  He dared dart a glance over
at Eric, hoping the man couldn't see what was
happening to him.  To his relief Eric was looking in
the other direction, away from the bed, and he quickly
turned his head and stared at the wall, giving Eric
the same courtesy, but he'd had time to see Eric was
having the same reaction to the pervert kid kneeling
between his legs and although he was no longer looking
at it he could still see the image of Eric's thick
cock slowly expanding below his thick thatch of curly
red hairs.
	Eric was looking the other direction, but not out of
courtesy to Mike.  He'd looked over at his partner for
the same reason his partner had looked at him, to see
if Mike could see the embarrassing reaction that was
occurring between his legs, and in doing so he'd seen
Mike was having the same problem as he was.  That was
a surprise, but also a relief to see he was not alone.
 The down side was that the sight and thought of his
naked partner getting an erection had caused his own
cock to begin hardening all the faster, and was the
real reason he'd looked away.  It hadn't worked, just
as it wasn't working for Mike.  He could not block the
image of Mike's slowly expanding cock from his mind
any more than he could stop his cock from responding
to the stimulation of having Anton gently stroking it.
	As the perverted kid held his semierect cock by the
base and stuck out his tongue as he bent over it, Eric
wanted to swat him on the side of the head, but he
knew there would be little point.  There were six of
them watching.  They could easily tie him to the
chair.  At least this way he had a chance.  One lax
moment and if he could snatch his revolver that the
stupid wetback had foolishly left on the little round
table in the corner of the room, then the shoe would
be on the other foot.  For now, he'd have to bear it. 
After his stint as a soldier in Afghanistan, he could
bear anything.  He grimaced as he felt Anton's hot,
moist tongue run up the length of his cock, from base
to tip.  That was filthy.  He was a good, decent
Catholic boy.  He wouldn't even consider a woman doing
that to him though he knew there were a lot of men who
fantasized about getting a blow job from a woman, and
he personally knew more than a couple soldiers who'd
taken their frustration and anger out on both the
women and men in Afghanistan by making them do just
what the boy was doing to him.
	Anton swirled his tongue around the sensitive rim of
the exposed knob, causing the man's cock to grow
firmer.  Normally he did everything he could to
prolong getting a man aroused, not just because it
gave the man more pleasure, which was always his goal,
but also because it gave him more pleasure also.  The
twelve-year-old could play with cock all night.  His
orders for today though were to get the cops off as
fast as he could, as often as he could.  That was all
right.  He knew by the third or fourth shot most men
the cops' age took forever to shoot.  He had a lot of
cock licking and sucking ahead of him!  Besides, from
the scare the cops had given him, he was even less
motivated to bring them any pleasure at all.
	It couldn't have been more than twenty minutes, but
it had seemed three times as long, and really, he
hadn't been in any real danger, just as Billy had
promised him.  This had of course all been a set up. 
The cops were lazy, especially on a Friday afternoon,
and followed the same routine, including the four
o'clock donut and coffee followed by the cruise past
the Sixteenth Street Strip Mall.  His part of the plan
had been simple.  Attract their attention, and use his
charms to get them to take him to the Economy Inn for
a bit of action where Billy's "acquaintances" would
take over, and his reward would be all the cop dick he
could handle for the rest of the afternoon.  The
problem had been that he hadn't expected them to be so
rough, nor to take him into the alley before he had a
chance to proposition them.  But, as Billy had
promised, he was being watched, and the interruptions
in the alley had been quickly implemented when things
hadn't gone as planned, giving him the chance finally
to say what he'd supposed to have said back on the
street corner.  Thank heavens for cell phones and
Billy having alerted the neighbourhood in advance
incase his many friends and clients were needed. 
Relieved it was over, Anton licked Eric's dick with
renewed vigour, soon bringing him to full erection.
	Ravi had the same success with Mike.  Standing up, he
slowly and seductively removed his clothes.  "Now, for
to reward you for getting such a nice stiff on, I have
a very special donut for you mister policeman," he
said with a smile, purposefully thickening his accent
and choosing his words.  Mike looked at him blankly,
not comprehending what he meant.  Turning around, Ravi
wiggled his compact, brown buttocks at him, and
reaching around, he pulled apart his smooth ass cheeks
and revealed his just as smooth brown pucker. 
Throwing a leg over him so he was straddling the
prostrate policeman and facing him, he began to lower
himself.
	"No way!  No fucking way!  You're not getting my dick
up there you filthy pervert!"  Having the fag boy suck
his cock was one thing, but sticking his cock up the
boy's shit chute?  No way!  He stuck it up his wife
for Chrissake!  How would he ever be able to do that
again after sticking it up such a foul place?  He
reached out and pushed the boy up, cringing at the
feel of the boy's smooth skin.
	Seeing his moment of opportunity, Eric leaped from
the chair and dived for the table where their
revolvers had been left.  Of course their captors knew
his intent and were on him immediately.  As they
tackled Eric, Mike twisted around to make his own grab
at anything he could use to fight back.  The struggle
was fierce but brief, two cops against six men who'd
been selected for their strength and their hatred for
cops being no real battle at all.  It was not long
before Mike and Eric found their bruised and battered
bodies tied down, Mike back on the bed and
spreadeagled with wrists and ankles tied to the four
corners, and Eric tied to the wooden chair with his
arms wrapped around the back and his ankles tied to
the legs.  The men had brought ropes just in case.
	The blood that had surged to their leg and arm
muscles soon returned to their crotches with a little
coaxing once again by Anton and Ravindra, and once
again the two men found themselves erect.  Eric could
only curse and twist helplessly as Anton went down on
his long, thick cock, delighting in it far more than
Eric was delighting in having the goth boy go down on
him.  It was filthy and perverted, a guy doing that to
another guy.  Even worse, he was just a kid, not even
a teenager yet.  Lord in Heaven he didn't even have
hairs yet.  Despite his revulsion and humiliation,
pleasure throbbed between Eric's legs, fighting for
equal attention from his brain, and his loose,
dangling nuts slowly began to swell in response to the
stimulation of his dickhead.  Pleasure and revulsion
mixed as he strained to hold back the inevitable, as
his cock throbbed and his dickhead burned with the
same pleasure as it did buried between his wife's
legs.  The thought of a boy sucking on what was
created only for a woman to feel sickened him and
caused his skin to crawl, and the thought that he was
about to release his seed in the boy's perv mouth
instead of inside a woman as God had designed filled
him with revulsion.  That was what his brain said, but
his stiff, swollen cock was pulsating and burning with
the pleasure only a man can know.
	Mike was feeling the same as Eric.  Getting him erect
again, Ravi had once more straddled him, and reaching
down behind him, he'd grasped the man's stiff pole and
had slowly lowered himself on it.  The man had tensed
and grimaced as he felt his rigid cock slowly being
engulfed by hot, moist flesh, not unlike how it felt
when he entered his wife, but this was perverted and
filthy.   His cock was penetrating another man, a
teenager, up that filthiest part of a person's body. 
Never had he felt such revulsion nor so filthy as he
felt the boy slowly descend on him until his entire
cock was buried up his asshole.
	And then the boy had begun to rise up and sink back
down on it with a steady rhythm, slowly riding him,
his asshole constricting and relaxing rhythmically
just like his wife's cunt did when he fucked her.  And
like when he fucked her he felt the growing pleasure
throbbing through his stiff cock and the tingles of
arousal sparking through the knob and the pressure
building up in his loins.  He tried to deny it, but it
was bringing him pleasure.  Mike closed his eyes but
he could still see the teenage boy riding up and down
and the smile of pleasure on his fag face.  He could
no more block out his image than he could block out
the boy's laboured breathing.
	He was about to shoot his load, not up his wife's
vagina, but up the shit hole of a teenage boy, a
filthy, brown-skinned diaper head.  The revulsion and
the shame combined with the throbbing pleasure and the
anticipation as he fought to hold back what no man
can.  With a gasp of dismay and pleasure and a shudder
of revulsion and the ultimate ecstasy a man can feel,
he shot off his load as sitting beside the bed his
partner did likewise.  Holding back as long as they
could, they both shot off forcefully, increasing their
pleasure.  It seemed like they were never going to
stop spurting.  It had been a long time since they'd
come so violently with their wives.
	"You're one hot ride," Ravi said with a smile as he
finally slowly eased off the man and bent over and
gave him a kiss, the final humiliation.
	"And you got one sweet-tasting load," Anton said,
standing up and kissing Eric, his lips slimy with
Eric's cum.  It did not taste sweet to Eric.
	As the two boys stepped back, two of the men stepped
forward and slipped cock rings about the still stiff
pricks of the two cops, cutting off the flow of blood
out of their turgid organs and keeping them erect. 
Waiting for fifteen minutes, the two boys approached
again, this time switching partners.  Kneeling down
between Eric's legs, Ravi removed the cock ring and
began to lick the man's swollen, aching organ,
expertly running his tongue up and down the shaft and
teasing the tip of his cock with his tongue until he
teased out a droplet of pre-cum.  Smearing his lips
with the sticky, clear juice, he stood and kissed
Eric, forcing his lips against the man's and smearing
the man's own pre-cum over his lips as he strained
helplessly against his bonds.  He resumed licking the
man's aching cock until he coaxed out another clear
droplet, which this time he flipped up with the tip of
his tongue, and then forcing open Eric's mouth,
touched the tip of his tongue against Eric's. 
Although only sixteen, Ravindra Shankar was very
skilled at making love to another of his sex, having
been introduced to the Kama Sutra and many other
ancient writings of his country on the art of making
love by his uncle many years ago when his interest in
other boys first became evident. 
	Anton meanwhile removed the cock ring of his partner
and straddling him as Ravi had, he slowly lowered
himself onto the upright pole.  He pushed out his
abdomen and opened his anus wide as the man's thick,
long cock slowly penetrated him.  It was more slender
and shorter than Eric's but still a nice sized cock
and bigger Anton knew than most men had, though small
compared to Bob Moser's.  He slowly began to ride the
man, delighting as much in the pleasure pulsating
around his rectum as in the look of disgust and shame
in the man's eyes.  He was not sure what the cop had
done to get Billy angry, nor what the ultimate plans
were for him, but he'd been told to bring the two cops
pleasure that they could not deny, and he was good at
doing just that.  Bringing pleasure to other guys was
all he could think of anymore.  He tightened his
sphincter as he drew up, squeezing the man's thick
cock as it eased out of his hot, moist hole, and then
he relaxed it as he sank back down.  From the look in
the man's eyes, he knew the man was feeling pleasure
between his legs and he smiled down at him knowingly,
adding to the man's angst.  He knew the disgust and
shame the man was experiencing feeling pleasure from
having sex with another guy.  He'd once felt that way
too.  In a way, considering the man's attitude and
disgust with him, he was glad that he was causing the
man some upset.
	Upset was putting it mildly.  Mike and Eric were
filled with repugnance over what was happening to
them, and with humiliation responding as they were,
especially in the presence of the other.  They were
also filled with desire and throbbing, erotic
pleasure, and once again the two cops fought the
inevitable, and once again they shot off a copious and
delightful load with a mixture of pleasure and of
revulsion, the one accenting the other.  To their
dismay, the cock rings were slipped back on the moment
the two boys got off.
	The third time, again after a short fifteen minute
break, Ravi once again approached Eric and Anton
approached Mike and the rings were removed.  The
resumption of the flow of blood as fresh oxygen was
brought to their aching, turgid flesh, brought a
tingling pleasure like they'd never felt before.  The
boys caressed the chests of the two cops, again
commenting on how soft and pliable their breasts were,
but rather than taken as complements their comments
reminded the two dejected men how firm and muscular
their chests used to be.  The two boys sucked and
licked their sensitive nipples until they were hard
once again, and the cops' cocks were twitching and
jerking with arousal once more. They continued to
arouse the men, licking their erect nipples and
running their hands along their loins but avoiding
their genitals until the two men were tense and
squirming with the need to get off and pre-cum was
oozing out of the slits of their wagging cocks.
	"Well, well, eager to get off another load, are we?"
Ravi said with a genuine smile and a twinkle in his
deep brown eyes.  "Getting to be a real man-loving
queer, aren't we honey?" he said, putting on his best
mincing queen imitation and again laying on his East
Indian accent.  "How would you like to have a piece of
ass this time for a change?"  Two of the men stepped
forward and undid the bonds tying Eric's wrists and
ankles and Ravi dropped to his hands and knees and
wiggled his compact, smooth butt at him.
	Eric glared at him with pure hatred.  Fuck his butt? 
Yeah, he'd fuck his butt.  He'd fuck him silly until
he cried with pleasure no faggot could imagine.  He'd
show him how a straight man fucked.  He dropped to his
knees and placed the tip of his cock against his
asshole, and of course Ravi eagerly opened up and
allowed the man to penetrate him.  Eric grasped his
smooth hips as he sank his cock in.  The fucking
faggot was loose as an old slut, which was no
surprise, but he didn't have any average size cock,
and it was likely way larger than any faggot cock that
had ever been up the teen's ass, so though he entered
him with no difficulty, the boy's sphincter did
squeeze tightly about his throbbing, aching cock,
tighter, he had to admit, than his wife's cunt had
ever squeezed it.
	His cock was throbbing and aching, eager to get
another load off despite having shot off twice in the
past forty-five minutes.  He began to ram his cock in
and out of the boy savagely, angrily, like he'd fucked
the thirteen-year-old whore in this very room two
months ago.  He would show the boy what it was like to
get fucked by a real man.  He grunted and snorted as
he rammed his cock in and out of his body, delighting
more in that he was taking the boy than he was in the
pleasure throbbing between his legs.  Finally he would
get his revenge for what the stinking raghead had done
to him.
	Anton had meanwhile removed Mike's cock ring and the
men had also untied him.  He went down on the man's
thick cock, the knob and shaft smeared with shit and
ass-slime from his ass and from Ravi's, and glistening
with the two loads of cum the man had shot.  Anton
didn't mind.  The filth and perversity added to the
pleasure.  As Mike watched, he felt a sense of
perverse pleasure seeing the faggot tween eagerly
licking his filth-smeared organ.  The boy was sick,
and it gave him a sense of revenge as he watched,
knowing the boy was licking up his own shit and that
of the other faggot bitch in the room.  The best part
of it was that the cock-hungry little faggot thought
it was he who was getting the revenge.
	The pleasure of seeing the boy performing the filthy,
perverted act combined with the pleasure once more
throbbing through his cock, and this time he didn't
hold back as he once again felt the pressure
developing in his loins.  Shooting his jism would be
icing on the cake so to speak, adding to his revenge
for the humiliation and revulsion the boy had caused
him.  Mike closed his eyes as he concentrated on the
building pressure between his legs and on the
throbbing of his cock.  Revenge was going to be sweet.
 With a sigh of pleasure, physical pleasure with the
gushing of his seed and mental pleasure of having his
revenge, he filled the boy's mouth with his third load
as beside him he heard his partner grunting and
snorting as he filled the other queer's ass.
	As the two cops gasped for breath, their faces
flushed with the exertion of having three orgasms
within an hour and with the pleasure of their third
ejaculation, the two boys exchanged positions.  This
time they did not wait for the flush of pleasure to
subside, nor for the two men to recover.  Nor did they
bother slipping the cock rings back on the two stiff,
red cocks.
	"I do so love a man in uniform," Anton said sincerely
as he pushed Eric onto the bed beside Mike and once
again wrapped his slender fingers about his cock. 
"And I especially love them out of uniform," he
giggled.  "I bet your wife has never brought you off
four times in one night."  He knew from the look in
Eric's eyes that he was right, and that the mention of
his wife and that fact didn't exactly please the
flushed, dazed cop, which pleased Anton tremendously. 
Served him right for the scare the cop had given him. 
"That's because women can't admire cock like a guy
can.  They have no idea what having a stiff, aching
cock between your legs is like, or how to please it,"
he continued, badgering Eric's numbed mind with his
prattle as he slowly stroked the man's numb cock. 
"You do like the way I make your fuck pole feel, don't
you?" he asked, looking down into Eric's eyes
seductively.  Again he knew the answer from the look
in Eric's eyes, and though there was hatred and guilt
and shame and denial there, there was also the look of
desire and of pleasure that a man with a stiff cock
being gently stroked cannot hide.
	"And you like what I'm doing too, don't you?"
Ravindra asked as he similarly looked down into Mike's
eyes as he also slowly stroked the man's aching cock. 
His large, hairy balls were drawn up tight under his
swollen cock, and as Ravi ran a fingertip over them
the man flinched with the pain while his cockhead
ached with the desire to be stroked.  "I know your
wife has never made you feel as good as you do right
now," he continued as he lowered his head and swept
his long, shiny black hair over the man's knob, the
foreskin having been pulled right back so his knob and
the sensitive skin below were exposed.  His knob and
the skin below it were a crimson red from the
ceaseless attention and constant flow of blood into
the turgid organ.  "Or your boys," Ravi said.  Mike's
eyes flared.  How the hell did the kid know he had
boys?  "Maybe when we are done I should pay them a
visit and teach them how to please a man so when their
daddy comes home they can help him relax after a long,
hard day's work, and give his hard a long night's
workout," he grinned.
	"You filthy bastard," Mike managed to say.  "If you
so much as touch my boys-."
	"Let's sixty-nine," Ravi said.  "Suck my cock while I
suck yours and I'll reconsider if I should pay your
boys a visit.  Michael Junior is eleven, isn't he? 
Just a year younger than Anton here," he said, nodding
toward Anton.  "Bet he's got a nice cock, just like
his ol'man.  Bet he can come all ready.  I know some
boys who can come as young as ten.  Little Stan has a
few years yet.  He's just seven, isn't that right? 
Lots of time to learn how to please his daddy."
	"You filthy pervert, if you-."
	"Beg for my cock," Ravi interrupted.  "Let's hear you
beg for it, unless you'd like Stanley to be brought
over here and you can hear him beg for it."  Mike
glared at him.  "Now com'on, say please."
	"Please."  Anything to keep them away from his sons.
	"Oh come, come, you can do better than that," Ravi
said, putting on his mincing queen act and emphasizing
his accent again, knowing both irritated the man.
	"Please," Mike said more sincerely.
	"Please what?"
	"Please  . . .  sir."
	"No, no," Ravi laughed.  "I'm not into slave-master
scene.  I'm no sadist like you two boys.  What I meant
was please what do you want?"
	"Your cock."
	"Now, say them together, and louder, and like you
mean it."
	"Please, I want your cock."
	"And want do you want to do with it?" Ravi asked
teasingly.  This cop was so going to regret his
attitude toward him.
	"I want  . . .  I want to suck it."
	"Now all three parts together."
	"Please, I want your cock.  I want to suck it."
	"And do you want me to suck yours?"
	"Yes, please, suck my cock."  Anything to stop them
from hurting his boys.
	Ravi swung around and straddled the man in a
sixty-nine position.  Mike stared up at the long,
slender, brown tube and the shiny black hairs.  East
Indians had thick bushes.  Filthy, oily thick bushes,
above their filthy brown cocks.  He slowly opened his
lips and reaching up and grasping the teenager's hips,
guided Ravi back and down.  He slipped his lips over
the boy's dangling cock and closed his eyes and began
to suck.  Anything to keep his boys out of this.  Ravi
let him suck for a long time, enjoying the pleasure
rippling through his knob as his cock began to swell,
and even more enjoying the awkward efforts of the cop
and the knowledge how repugnant the cop was finding
his first time at sucking cock.  He finally wet his
lips with his tongue and went down on the cop's cock.
	"That looks like fun," Anton said.  "You wanna try
it?"
	"Yes," Eric said flatly. "Yes, I would," he said more
sincerely.  He wasn't going to humiliate himself by
begging like Mike had.  He certainly wasn't going to
give the kid the chance to mention his children.  If
they'd gone to all this trouble to set them up, the
kid had to know he had two girls.
	"No hesitation at all, huh?" Anton said with a smirk,
knowing full well that the man had agreed only because
he knew he had no choice.  "Knew you to be a closet
faggot the minute I saw you," he lied.
	So instead of being humiliated by being made to beg
for the kid's cock and to ask the kid to suck his, he
was being made to look like he wanted it, like he was
a fucking queer.  Eric wanted so much to respond, to
deny the kid's accusation, but as Anton swung around
and dangled his stiff little three inches in his face,
he instead reached up and grasping the boy's slender
hips drew the boy's crotch to his face.  He knew how
that looked, but he also knew to disagree with the boy
would be useless, and was what the boy was hoping he'd
do so he'd have him in a lose-lose situation.  Well,
he was too smart for that.  Besides, the sooner he got
this over with the better.
	As he began to suck on the tiny, slender tube, he
felt the twelve-year-old go down on his cock.  Feeling
the boy's tongue slip along the rim of his knob and
the electric shocks shoot through the blood-engorged
and by the fourth time super-sensitized flesh, he
could not help but arch his back with the exquisite
combination of pleasure and pain.  Swearing he would
make the boy pay for what he'd done to him this
afternoon, along with the rest of the bastards, Eric
sucked on his slender cock with a ferocious
determination, venting his anger by savagely sucking
on the boy's cock as if he was trying to suck him
inside out through his cocklet.
	"Lookit the queer suck," observed one of the men. 
"He really is a closet fag."
	The man could have said that just to egg him on, but
Eric figured the man's mentality was probably such
that he believed what he'd just said.  Well, let the
man think what he wanted.  When he got out of this,
he'd see that each and every one of the bastards got
what was coming to him.  He had their faces memorized
by then, all six of them, and he'd track them down no
matter where they tried to hide, he and Mike whom he
was sure was going to be just as eager to get his
revenge for this indignity.  What they'd done to those
two thirteen-year-old sluts two months ago was nothing
compared to what was going to happen to this group of
bastards.
	He worked his lips up and down the twink boy's
slender cocklet and sucked on it just as the goth boy
and his faggot friend had done to him.  The boy's cock
felt velvet smooth and so slender compared to his own,
which at the moment was throbbing and aching like it
had never felt before.  It had been many years since
he'd come off four times in a row, and that had been
using his own hand back as a young horny virgin teen. 
Even back then his cock had never felt so swollen and
so inflamed as it did now.  As he felt the boy's hot
breath blowing into his hairs and the suction on his
knob increasing, he inhaled deeply with the pleasure
and with the pressure building up between his loins. 
As disgusting and perverted as it was, it was
exceedingly pleasant, more pleasant than any act of
sex he'd ever engaged in, even more pleasant than
fucking his wife.  Never with her had his cock felt so
swollen, and never had he ached so badly to shoot.
	Mike was just as eagerly sucking on the teenage cock
of the slender East Indian boy who was sucking his. 
He'd never come four times in a row in his life and as
the combination of pain and pleasure throbbed and
ached between his legs and his cock felt as if it was
being skinned layer by layer, he could not believe how
delightful that sensation was.  And as the teenager
trembled and inhaled sharply he wondered if he was
feeling the same pleasure having his cock sucked.  It
was probably even greater, the kid being a faggot and
all.  He could see how a man could lust for another
man given how he was feeling.  He gave his head a
mental shake.  What was he thinking?  He was no
fucking queer.  Yet, he could not deny the pleasure
pulsating through his swollen cock.
	As Mike inhaled, the spicy, exotic fragrance of the
boy's sweat filled his mind and he felt an ache of
lust deep in his chest and a tremor of arousal pass
through his body and he wondered what his crotch smelt
like to the boy.  It was an erotic odour, the scent of
the East Indian's balls and cock, a combination of a
strong cheese and fish, an exotic aroma of southern
Asia.  As he thought about it, the boy's cock had an
erotic taste itself, not unlike the way it smelled,
and that thought caused the saliva in his mouth to
flow in double time.  As he swallowed the
teenage-cock-cheese-and-fish-flavoured spittle he
quivered.  His cock ached so badly to get off a load
he raised his hips off the bed and groaned in
desperation and in ecstasy.  The married man and
father of two grimaced as his tightly swollen balls
ached with unbelievable pain, complaining they'd
already shot off three rounds and could shoot no more.
	They could of course, as could Eric's.  The two cops
were not that old, and they were healthy and
physically active.  Of course it took them much longer
to come this time, as Anton had known, but they did
come, and it was as hot and stimulating as it was
excruciatingly painful.  Their jizz was thick and
burst out like a hot lava blob rather than spurting
and their piss-slits burned with that sweet, pleasant
pain that only a man can know.  At the same time, the
two boys came, Anton's young twelve-year-old jism thin
and watery, and after an afternoon of exotic play, so
copious and with such force that it filled Eric's
mouth and flowed out the corners of his mouth, and
Ravi's cum creamy and slimy and even more copious and
spurting with even more force as only a horny teenage
boy's can.  The four of them trembled and gasped
openly with the delight of their orgasms, heightened
by the pleasure of their partner's climax also,
something the two boys had experienced many times but
a first for the two cops.  At the same time the two
macho, white cops were acutely aware to their
embarrassment and shame that their immense pleasure
was being witnessed by six men, two niggers, a
Mexican, an Asian, and two rough looking white dudes
that looked like stevedores.  Of course they did not
know that it was all being captured on film by the
hidden cameras in the room.
	"Glad you really enjoyed that," the Asian said as he
hovered above them.  The room was spinning and their
eyes blurry with the strain of their last climax. 
"Cuz that's the last ejaculation you're ever going to
have."
	The two men lay there, their chests rapidly rising
and falling, their breathing loud and laboured, the
taste of cum filling their mouths and the smell of
cock filling their nostrils.  In their exhaustion and
confusion they could not decide if the taste and smell
were nauseating, or exhilarating.  The room was
spinning around faster now and they felt so
weak-loined as they lay there and began spinning too. 
They were twirling round and round in a big whirlpool,
a big black whirlpool, a whirlpool that tasted of cum
and smelled like cock and that they were being sucked
into, deeper and deeper.  Standing at the edge of the
whirlpool and bending over and looking into it with
bright blue-green eyes was a young angel, dressed in
white, a gold halo about his head, and a gold band
holding back his wavy, reddish-brown hair.  He was
smiling down at them and speaking to them but his lips
were not moving.
 
*********
The ordeal of Eric O'Malley and Mike Polanski is not
over!  Watch for the conclusion of this story arc in
Part 55.

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