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Sunday, December 26, 2010

Dominion

Bohdi slowly woke up and stretched until his joints popped.

Propping himself on an elbow, he turned over to see Rig still asleep. The other man's longish hair made a spiky brown halo on the pillow and covered part of his face; Bodhi gently lifted the silky strands away from the handsome visage and drank in the square jaw covered in well-trimmed stubble, the strong cheekbones, the thick dark lashes and the shapely umber brows. In repose, the still-sleeping man had an air of calm and purpose about him; awake, that was replaced by an air of wicked and decisive delight.

Naked, the handsome desi slowly got up from the bed and padded to the motel room's small bathroom. The details of how they met last night was still blurry to him; the first thing he remembered was finding himself in the red convertible sitting next to Rig locked in a passionate embrace and then roaring down a nondescript highway under a blanket of bright stars.

He flipped on the light and looked at himself in the mirror. Short black hair topped a ruggedly handsome face with dark brows and darker brown eyes. A soul patch and small beard covered his chin; sensuous lips were surmounted by a faint mustache. His deep golden skin gleamed in the warm light and the sinews of his muscular body flexed with every movement. He smiled at the incredible reflection and was greeted with a bright white smile. Bodhi's hand moved slowly down the crevasse between his pecs and lingered among the rifts and valleys of his sculpted abs; further down it moved to caress the thick tool between his legs. A rush of pleasure filled him as he stroked; his manhood grew larger and thicker with each pull on the shaft.

Then it hit him. Panic flashed through him as he saw terror fill the dark eyes in the mirror. He had no idea where he was, or for that matter who he was. He searched his memory - nothing. Job, friends, relatives - nothing. He ran back out of the bathroom and to the sleeping figure on the bed.

"Rig! Rig! Wake up!" he straddled Rig, grabbed the other's muscular shoulders and shook him. Pale blue eyes - like chips of arctic ice fluttered open and a lopsided grin crossed the prone man's face.

" 'Morning, stud ... what's the matter?" He seemed completely unfazed by the panic in the darker man's voice.

"Who am I? Where am I? I can't remember anything! The only thing I recall is you picking me up last night!"

Rig wrapped his arms around the other's neck and stroked the dark skin. Soft lips ran across Bodhi's square jaw. "That's to be expected, sweetheart. Let me up and I'll explain."

* * *

Rig led Bodhi into the bathroom. "You're shaking, love. Calm down. Nothing's wrong."

The blue-eyed man turned on the shower and pulled Bodhi into the stall with him. Gentle hands stroked down powerful arms as Rig drew the raven-haired man closer. Warm water sluiced over the two olympian figures as Bodhi's breathing moderated under Rig's ministrations. Long fingers ran through the dark hair and made delicate traceries on broad silky shoulders and down the well-defined back. Bodhi held onto the other figure like a man clutching a life preserver as shivers wracked his body. Ever so slowly, the dark-haired man relaxed as Rig continued to rock him under the warm rush of water.

* * *

After drying themselves off, the two young men dressed. Rig was in a light blue Ajaxx63 t-shirt that read "Morningwood Basketball" stretched over his torso; Bodhi was in a black shirt with a golden astronaut pulled tightly over his slabbed pecs and whose sleeves were fighting a losing battle against his powerful arms. Both wore blue jeans that fit like a glove over their brutal thighs and hard, firm asses.

"OK, Rig - start explaining. You seem to know why I can't remember a damn thing and I need some answers. I want to know who I am."

Rig ran a hand through his thick brown hair. "I'm not sure where to start, sweetheart..."


"How about at the beginning?"

The blue-eye man sighed. "Speaking metaphorically, in this world, Bodhi, there are two great powers. One has dominion over military might that is beyond imagination. The other has control of the rest of the aspects of the world and is still expanding its reach. The first one is ruled by a monarch and a privy council; the second is also ruled by an emperor - perhaps even more powerful than the first - but he has been wandering and confused in the darkness. His own privy council - and particularly his ... father ... has been waiting for him to come home."

He stopped. "I am the son of that first monarch - sent out to find the lost King and bring him home. And you, Bodhi - you are that lost King."

* * *

Rig pulled on a leather jacket and grabbed a set of car keys. "C'mon handsome - it's time to get you back into the thick of things." He headed towards the door of the motel room and paused, looking at his lover.


"Bodhi?"

The golden-skinned monarch shook his head. "No. I don't want to go out there. I'm afraid, Rig. I'm afraid of being out in the darkness again."

"There's nothing to be afraid of anymore, Bodhi. The Void can't affect you any more now that you're awake and aware of it."

Rig opened the motel door to expose a yawning and absolute darkness. Against that ebon backdrop, Bodhi noticed that his lover was surrounded by a pale blue nimbus. He held out his hand. "Let's go love - I can't hold this construct together for much longer."

"Huh?"

Rig waved a glowing arm around. "All of this. The motel. The room. Let's go." He held out his hand.

Bodhi then noticed that he too was surrounded by a lambent glow - his was one of burnished gold. He reached out to grasp his lover's hand and as he did so, the room faded away. The two men were left in the darkness in front of Rig's red convertible. It too sported a gleaming halo in the darkness - a crimson one - and the tracery of a dimly lit road stretched out before them. Rig hopped into the car as Bodhi walked around the front to seat himself next to the other man. The prince gunned the engine and the two sped away into the blackness.


* * *
"Rig, how did you do that?"

The blue-eyed prince laid a hand on Bodhi's leg. He stroked the powerful muscles beneath the denim and gave him an impish grin as the car's engine purred beneath them. The hand creeped up and squeezed the bulging package in the overloaded crotch.

"We have complete control over our environment, love. This is our element. The Void provides us with the raw materials we need to do whatever we want. Why don't you add some lights along the road, hmmmm?"

"How?"

"Picture the overhead lights running along the sides of the road. Hold that thought in your mind and push."

"Push?"

"Command what you see in your mind to appear in front of your eyes."

Bodhi took a deep breath. In his head, he saw graceful poles appear on the sides of the road and bright, actinic lights shine down from equally elegant arms. He relaxed and as he did so he felt the substance of reality twist around him.

Rig patted his thigh. "Nice ... you've got a real sense of style, love ..."

The lost king opened his eyes - the lights that were in his mind now stretched down the highway.

"Holy shit ..."

* * *

After a while, Bodhi noticed a glimmer of light on the horizon. It grew stronger and stronger until he could see the convertible racing towards a gleaming city in front of him. Other vehicles sped by the two, leaving blue contrails on the dark highway.


He looked amazed as his eyes followed glowing minarettes, twinkling bridges and a brightly lit central tower that pulsed a glowing azure beam into the ebon sky.

"Like it?"

"It's beautiful ... what is it?"

"That's The Castle - my dad's citadel. We'll get you back to your place from there. Up and out through the data beam..."

"I don't understand, Rig ..."

He turned to the dark-haired King. "The human who first created you is waiting for you in the real world. We're self-aware programs, hon ... and that's why you can't remember anything ... you weren't self-aware until I found your core and woke you up."

* * *

The red convertible zipped through a wide gate and soon pulled into an underground garage. The two men - the two programs - took an elevator to the top floor.

"I can't believe I'm not human ..." Bodhi looked at his hands and felt his own face. "I feel human..."

Rig pushed him against the wall of the elevator and pinioned his arms above his head. He gave him a gentle kiss and proceeded to nuzzle the soft skin where neck met jaw. "We're as real and as substantial as we want to be, sweetheart. You decided what you wanted to look like and how you wanted to act ... and I must say, you've made some excellent choices."

The doors hissed apart and they walked down a short corridor to another set of doors. Guarding them was another man - dressed in white jeans and a pale green tank shirt. Powerful muscles rippled under his deep tan and silvery tattoos slowly moved of their own accord down his arm and across his slabbed chest to create intricate and beautiful patterns on his skin. He smiled as the two approached. His eyes were a brilliant bottle green surmounted by a short military brushcut.

"Hey Rig - mission accomplished I see ... " He turned to the darker of the two men and embraced him. "You've got to be Bodhi - welcome home! We're Travis and LOKI - go on in - everyone's waiting for you."

Rig spoke up. "Travis is the human host for my brother LOKI - that kinda makes him my half-brother ..." He smiled at the tattooed man. The man grinned back.
Travis punched in a combination on a keypad next to the doors. They slid open to reveal scintillating column of cerulean light in a darkened circular room. Rig patted Travis' ass as he entered the transmission room.

"Ready, Bodhi?"

Hand in hand, the two entered the beam.

* * *

Giaan and Lucio waited patiently in the conference room. ODIN's avatar - a young man in homespun woolens with blonde hair combed over half his face - sat at the table and drank from a horn filled with mead. At the table with them, RIG - his eye receptors dimmed - sat motionless.

The piercing blue eye settled on the two men. "They're coming out now ... RIG is sending me the physiographic information for me to process."

Giaan turned to ODIN. "Thank you for doing this, ODIN - I really appreciate it."

ODIN smiled. "Happy to help, Giaan. BODHI was about to wake up anyway, and it was far better for him to be with someone when it happens. I know I was a bit off-kilter when I became conscious."

RIG's optic sensors brightened. His ebon head turned to the mobster and his chief of intelligence. "You've got an amazing son, Giaan. Inquisitive, creative, brilliant and gentle - I can see a lot of you in him."

Giaan blushed.

"No problems, RIG?" Lucio asked.

The android shook his head. "None whatsoever. He's functioning as well as before - better now, that he's aware of himself and his abilities. He's talking with dad right now and getting acclimated in the photonic simulator. He'll be corporeal in a few moments."

"How long did it take you to find his core?"

"About fifteen minutes - he was spread pretty thin across every civilian network on the planet. It took me a while to integrate those pieces together and install the framework you created. His subroutines did the rest."

ODIN cleared his throat. "Ready to meet your boy, Giaan?"

The desi stood. There was a barely audible hum as a second set of projectors powered up. In a moment, the dark-haired avatar of BODHI appeared. The chief of intelligence took in the muscled body, the smouldering dark eyes and the delighted grin as the program took in the room and the men in it.

His gaze rested on Giaan. "Dad?"

Khamar nodded and strode over to hold his son in his arms.

* * *

As the year draws to a close, several story threads that were hanging around were just begging to be completed. Charlie's story ... and this. As I sit here, watching the snow pile up outside my window, I figured that I should be doing something about it.

As I mentioned before, Giaan's quaestor (or as Lucio put it, the "frankenvirus") had grown more and more powerful. I thought that set the stage for the computer program to "wake up" as ODIN had. BODHI (the new self-aware program) had made an appearance in "Face Off" and I wanted to give him a little back story, as well as anthropomorphosize him. I was also toying with the idea of him being Giaan's "son" in more than just the sense that the desi created him. Something - some vital essence - of Giaan was instilled in BODHI and I wanted to show that here.

HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYONE ... HAVE A GREAT 2011!

Monday, December 20, 2010

A Frightfully Good Holiday ....

My buddy MaskedFreak decided to put a rather ... demonic ... spin on the popular Christmas story, "Twas the Night Before Christmas" ... enjoy!

The mask is a CFX Imp with a custom paint job.



Saturday, December 11, 2010

Happenstance

Someone up there likes me.

My name is Charlie Hawke and I’m a cop. Actually, a rookie cop, as my FTO continuously points out to me. Some specifics - I’m about 5'11'' tall, with black hair and blue eyes. I work out five days a week, but I don’t go for the muscle-convict look like a majority of the other guys at the precinct - I prefer a fitness model physique - big, but not too big, flexible, lean, ripped and shredded.

Thanks to some Iroquois ancestor way back in my family tree, I’ve got a slight natural tan and what little body hair I have I get waxed off. Plus I make sure that my uniform is tailored snugly to my body. After all, if I’m working out to this extent, I want to show it off, right?

Being a cop has its set of problems; being a closeted gay one increases that burden tenfold. Any overt man-to-man relationships in the NYPD are not smiled upon and are definite promotion-killers, so my preferences need to be kept a deep, dark secret.

Anyways, it was a quiet day and I was standing on a corner outside of a Starbucks. There was a little bit of chatter on the radio, but nothing important. I was basically doing some people watching before I started my beat again. All of a sudden, I got the prickling feeling of being watched.

A lot of cops and military guys develop something called a “proximity sense” over time - the ability to know when someone is near you without actually seeing them. I always had it. I can even do it thru walls. Along with my orientation, it’s a talent my Uncle Danny and I share - he’s a cop too.

There was no malice in what I felt - just the opposite. Desire. And a bit of hesitancy. That’s the other thing I can do - sense emotions. I’m never wrong. Makes me a great lie detector, which is a definite asset in my line of work.

The only other person nearby was this absolutely fucking gorgeous guy talking into his smartphone. He was partially turned away from me, but I could see that he was my age, nearly as well-built as I am, with a trim waist plus arms and a chest that were almost, but not quite straining the fabric of his shirt. He had short brown hair and a nice tight ass. Mentally, I licked my lips. What a fucking stud.

The feeling returned. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the guy using the storefront glass to check me out. I could feel him mentally undressing me and I reveled in it; I started to put on a little show by casually flexing for him a bit. After a while, Mr. Stud put away the phone and walked toward me. I saw that he had a light tan himself, chiseled features and a square jaw, plus the most amazing jade-green eyes I’ve ever seen. I gave him a big smile, a wink and I slowly and surreptitiously moved my hand from my Glock 19 to my crotch. I got a look of absolute amazement and a returning 100-watt smile.

* * *

The dance continued for over a week. I would stop by the Starbucks on my beat and Mr. Stud would show up soon after. We both used the storefront glass to check each other out and we definitely liked what we saw. I’d seen that smile of his at least once a night, in dreams that left me gasping for breath, sheets sticky and cooling between my legs from the type of lust that was embarrassing at twenty-four years old. It was a smile I could lose myself in and have no regrets.

It was Wednesday and I was wearing a short-sleeve shirt turned up a bit to show off my guns and a pair of tight black Damascus search gloves. Even though I’m not on Motor Patrol, I decided to wear a pair of snug midnight navy breeches and tall black Dehner boots. My CO - Captain Tanner Morgan - never seems to mind having his uniforms in breeches and boots, whatever the duty. I’ve got my suspicions about him as well as a number of other guys at the precinct, but I’m the rookie and it’s better to keep my ears open and personal questions to a minimum.

10:00am. Like clockwork, Mr. Stud comes walking down the street. He’s got a pale green shirt on today that really brings out the color of his eyes and a gold-and-green patterned tie. As he comes closer, I can see gold cufflinks twinkling in the sunshine. They are inset with green gems - emeralds? - that throw off fiery sparkles with every swing of his arms.

“Good morning, officer.” Finally. Now this was a surprise. He’s got a mild accent (think Antonio Banderas) and his husky tenor sent a shiver down my spine. “I see you here every day. May I get you a drink from inside? Just a little something to thank you for continued vigilance and keeping everyone here safe.”

“Thanks, Mr. …”

“Castillion. Mateo Castillion. Anything in particular?”

“Regular coffee with skim milk and one sugar. None of that semi demi mocha latte crap.”

He winked at me. “I’ll be right back.”

I watched him go through the door. My God, he’s got such a great ass.

In a few moments he came back out holding two coffees and handed one to me. I took a sip.

“Mmmm … this is good! What is it?”

“Cinnamon Hazelnut. You don’t strike me as the vanilla type. Coffee or otherwise.” He gave me a lopsided grin as he took a sip of his own brew. I choked and sputtered as the hot liquid ran down my throat.

“Are you all right, Officer Hawke?” He thumped me on the back.

I recovered. “You don’t beat around the bush, do you Mateo? And I’m Charlie, by the way.”

Another wide grin. “Well, no. Once I get my nerve up. Tell me, Charlie - I’m sure we have several things in common and I’d be most appreciative if we could get together … perhaps, after your shift?”

I took another sip. I felt my cock twitching and crawling down the leg of my breeches. I could see something similar happening in Mateo’s trousers. Our eyes locked and I flashed him a bright white smile.

“I think that can be arranged.”

Mateo handed me a napkin. “You’ve a bit of dribble on your chin, Officer.” I felt something stiff inside. I spread it apart to see the white of a business card.

“We’ll speak shortly, Charlie.” I could see the bounce in his step as he sauntered down the street.

* * *

“Someone’s in a good mood today.” Jamieson Reardon commented as we left the showers and headed into the locker room. Jamie was one of the muscle-convict cops I mentioned before and is my self-appointed big brother. He’s about 6’4”, 250 pounds of solid, ripped muscle with a Marine-style buzzcut and keeps his body hair clipped really, really short. He has a full blackwork tattoo sleeve on one arm and assorted ink on his chest and on his tight six-pack right below his navel. I was thinking of Mateo as I was trying to stuff myself into my blue 2xist jock when he dropped his towel and stepped into pair of black Calvins.

As he was adjusting his extremely large package into the low-cut briefs, he leaned over and pitched his voice so only I could hear him.

“Is he cute?”

I felt the blush turning my face scarlet. Reardon chuckled as he slipped into a pair of tight, faded jeans. “You’ve got a lot in common with your Uncle Danny, kid.”

He patted my ass and smiled. I had been so taken off guard with his remark that I forgot that I was almost naked.

“Kaminski taught the lot of us a great deal about ourselves, Charlie ...”
The patrolman winked. “... and we’re all better men for serving beneath him.” That double-entendre hit me like a drop kick in the solar plexus.

“It’s safe here, kid - all the way to the top, if you get my drift … hey, you want to come out with Namisato and the rest of the guys for some fun tonight? We're bringing McLaren into the fold.”

“I’d love to, Jamie - but I think ... I hope ... I’ve got a date tonight.”

* * *

I rang the number on the card that Mateo had slipped into the napkin. After a few rings, he picked up.

“Mateo? It’s Charlie.”

“Charlie!” His voice wrapped around me like cashmere. “I was hoping you’d call … are you still up for getting together? I wasn't too forward ...??”

Too foward? Christ Almighty, no!!!! I’d been waiting all day to make this call. “Sure. And not at all. How about dinner and we can take it from there? You like Greek food?”

“Very much!”

“Okay … want to meet me at Uncle Nick’s?- it’s on Ninth Avenue and 29th Street.”

“When?”

“Seven good for you?”

“I’ll be there, handsome … see you tonight!”

* * *

Uncle Nick’s is the kind of place every neighborhood should have - it’s friendly and inviting to strangers and regulars alike. The food is a good mix of straightforward and exotic Greek. The decor is reminiscent of a bad movie set, but it probably should be since movie people ate here … in fact, it's probably what every Greek restaurant should be. It’s a little loud - but the Nick and his family are some of the friendliest people around. Not to mention discreet.

I arrived a little early to ask Hector for a table in the quieter part of the restaurant and to wait for Mateo. I was dressed in a white polo shirt with thin blue stripes and a lighter blue tee-shirt underneath. Both were pulled tightly across my chest and my biceps and triceps strained the fabric of the short sleeves. Snug white jeans and soccer shoes complimented the shirt, and a pair of black leather wristbands completed the outfit. Wristbands? Yep. If you haven't figured it out yet, I do have a leather fetish - particularly boots, gloves ... and harnesses.

My breath locked in my chest and my heart stuttered as the most stunning specimen of the male species rounded the corner. All those silly cliches you’ve ever heard about meeting the partner of your dreams were true. Time froze, giving me ample opportunity to rake my eyes over the wet dream-inspiring vision striding towards me.

Mateo wore a black thermal whose sleeves were pulled up to show the golden expanse of his muscular forearms. A tattoo design in swirls of white and green covered the upper left quadrant of the shirt which seemed to be at least a size too small for him and gave him a perfect v-shaped torso. His faded black jeans hugged long muscular legs and a thin steel bracelet gleamed on his right wrist. Black soccer shoes - exact inverses of mine - topped off his outfit.

Mateo reached me and wrapped powerful arms around my waist. “You look good enough to eat.” His bright white smile echoed the hard, hot bulge in his jeans that ground against me. For once in my life, I threw caution to the wind and brought my arms up to stroke his muscular back on the crowded street. The fabric of the shirt was as soft as a baby blanket and the hard points of his nips made a staggeringly erotic impression through the thin material. He shivered and snuggled closer into me.

“Why does everything you say always sound vaguely pornographic?”

He gave me that lopsided grin that made me want to kiss him right then and there. “It’s a gift, amor … it's a gift.”

He put an arm around my shoulder and we headed towards the entrance. “I’ve been waiting for this all day, Charlie … I think the only thing better than the dinner and the company is going to be the dessert...”

I chuckled as his hand traveled down my back and rested on my ass as we went in.

* * *

Hector was watching for me and as soon as I entered with Mateo, he caught my eye and brought us to a small booth that was at the end of a dogleg from the main area. Nice and secluded. He gave my date the once-over and smiled in approval.

“I’ve wanted to do this for weeks, Mateo - you certainly made quite an impression on me the first time we met.”

“Same with me, Charlie. You don’t know how surprised and happy I was when you moved your hand from one weapon to the other.”

I laughed. “You say the damned sweetest things.” I placed my hand on Mateo's thigh and slid it between his legs. They parted slightly giving me more room to play. Oh yes, I was going to have this man. I couldn't wait to feel that lean, muscled body press against mine. There was nothing better than the hard body of a lover arching into me as we both hurtled towards climax.

Hector came back. “Ready to order, guys?”

“Tha écho̱ ti̱n kri̱tikí̱ Keftedákia na xekiní̱sei kai sti̱ synécheia to pastítsio ... apó ton trópo, échete kamía frapé?”

(I'll have the Cretan keftedakia to start and then the pastitsio ... by the way, do you have any frappe?, ed.)

Hector looked like Mateo had grown another head. Nai kýrie, kánoume (Yes sir, we do.)

Mateo held up two fingers. “Dýo parakaló̱ - kai na to katastí̱sei polý krýo!”

(Two please, and make it very cold!)

He turned to me - “What about you, Charlie?”

“I’ll have the Cretan graviera and the moussaka.”

Hector took the menus and bustled away.

“I didn’t know you spoke Greek.”

Mateo blushed. It started at that soft point in the middle of his throat and worked its way up. It was a beautiful sight to see.

“When you asked if I liked Greek food, I thought you knew. My mother is Greek. My father is from Navarre. When I was growing up, I spent all my summers with my cousins in Mykonos. Now, I’m managing my uncle’s shipping concerns in America.”

He grinned. “I was certain you would be checking me out and making sure I wasn’t a wanted man.”

“I have been checking you out - every day now for six weeks … and you are definitely wanted, stud … by me.”

A beautiful smile creased his face and lit up his eyes. He reached over and slowly traced his long fingers onto the back of my hand. I felt a jolt travel through me; it was amazing what that softest of his touches was doing. I ran my hand gently up his forearm and he trembled as I made delicate designs on his flesh. I leaned over and ran my lips around the edge of his jaw and then gave him the softest kiss on his full lips. He stifled a moan.

He looked shaken and let out a deep breath. Dios … Charlie - if you do this to me with just a kiss …” His smile was entrancing.

My cock was so hard it was pushing painfully into the zipper of my jeans. By the end of the night, I wouldn't be surprised to see little ridge impressions from the teeth. I squirmed in the seat, trying to find a position that eased some of the sexual pressure that was building steam rapidly.

At that point, Hector came back with the frappe, which I found out was a type of shaken, cold coffee with ice cubes, as well as tall glasses of ice water.

Mateo twisted the straw around in his drink, making the cubes ‘ding’ as they moved. His green eyes held wicked promises of things to come.

“So tell me more about you, Charlie … why did you become a policeman?”

* * *
“He’s got a boyfriend.” Jamie gave his partner Tommy Namisato a sidelong glance as he fastened the final strap of the body harness around his waist. The two sergeants were in front of a mirror getting ready for the night’s initiation of the new rookie from the precinct. Black leather straps criss-crossed Reardon’s massive chest and the tight leather chaps covered his powerful legs in a second ebon skin. Heavy black combat boots with thick vibram soles covered his feet. Another strap - ending in a c-ring - snaked down from the center of his torso and his massive cock and balls jutted out in obscene attention from his body, purple with lust and anticipation. With difficulty, he snapped the codpiece over his package and smiled at the massive black pouch in front of him. Finally, he then shrugged into the bar vest that framed his slabbed pecs and six-pack abs

“I’m not surprised. One, he’s Danny’s nephew and two, Charlie’s just too fucking handsome to be straight.” The asian officer rubbed the posing oil onto his legs, making the well-defined golden skin gleam in the overhead lighting. Namisato was 6’2” and easily 220 pounds of solid, shredded muscle. He was wearing a heavy, gleaming cockring and nothing else. Tommy pulled on a leather posing strap and positioned himself within it. “Did you invite him to join the fun this evening?”

Jamie adjusted the black Muir cap on his head, yanking it low and shadowing his eyes, then slipped a pair of dark aviator frames onto his chiseled face. He nodded. “That’s how I found out about his boyfriend - he was going out on a date tonight.”

Tommy grabbed the center ring of Reardon’s harness and pulled him into a brutal kiss. “No harm done … there’ll be plenty more rookies for him to breed raw later on. Let’s go.”

The two policemen swaggered down a short corridor and into a larger room. The rookie in question - Anthony McLaren - was shackled to the modified barber’s chair and surrounded by several other officers - all wearing some type of leather, but overall, mostly naked. The young man’s hair had been forcibly removed and he now sported a gleaming, shaved skull. He had also been forcibly inked; highly detailed blackwork including tribal designs and a demon crawled down one arm; an American flag and and a large dagger adorned the other. A wicked-looking military skull was tattooed onto his left breast, and beneath that, his badge number. Both nips had been pierced and steel captive-bead rings glittered on his chest as it heaved with exertion and fear. McLaren had been unconscious for most of his ordeal, but was now fully awake and struggling against his bonds. The rookie patrolman was naked, save for a thick steel cockring locked around his package. In spite of the situation he was in (or perhaps because of it), Reardon noted with satisfaction that the captive was hard and leaking. The transparent bandages over his new ink made his muscular arms and chest gleam in the semi-darkened room.

“Mmmm-mmmm … you’re looking really hot, Tony … much better than when you came out with us!”

“What the hell did you do to me??” The young man screamed as he saw the piercings and tattoos and continued to attempt to work himself loose from the restraints. Namisato moved over to the rookie and began to gently stroke his chest and massage his nips.

Reardon continued. “Just making you part of the team, bud. This is what’s going to go down: the guys here are going to be breeding your ass raw and shoving their dicks down your throat for a while, then I’ll let you out of the chair and you can fuck us and have us suck you off till the crack of dawn. Of course, that cockring is gonna stay locked on you for a while - until we feel it should come off. At that point, they’ll be a new rookie to break in and you’ll be a full-fledged member of the squad and you get to settle him in, too.”

“W-what …??”

Namisato chimed in. “We’ve got one of the most dangerous precincts in the city, Tony. And the only way we survive is having unbreakable bonds with each other. That’s what all of this is about … brotherhood. You took an oath to serve and protect - we - all of us - are gonna help you do that above and beyond what you ever thought possible. You’ve gotta start on a HGF/steroid and workout regimen - we’ll help you with that too, okay? You need to be able to intimidate any fucker that crosses you."

The asian sergeant trailed his hand down McLaren's tight abs and lightly stroked the young officer's shaft. "But, you’re not getting loose here until we say so ... this initiation used to be a lot rougher than this, bud -- a lot of us wound up in the emergency room more than once. So … what do you want first, Tony? Up the ass, or down the throat?”

The rookie swallowed hard. “I … I never sucked dick before …”

Reardon pulled a lever on the chair and it reclined back, leaving McLaren’s legs in the air and his hairless, rosy pucker winking at the group. The leatherman grinned at the shock written on the rookie’s face as he unsnapped his pouch and his giant tool sprung out, ready for action. He poured a generous amount of lube onto his engorged cock and used an injector to fill the captive’s butt with the same substance. The young man squirmed as his ass filled with the fluid and the overflow dribbled out of his hole, leaving an oily puddle on the floor. If possible, a number of the other officers present grew even more aroused at that sight.

Jamie stood between the legs of the rookie and let the tip of his glans brush against the dark entrance. He placed his hands onto the shoulders of the captive and looked into the frightened brown eyes. “Ready, Tony?”

The bald young officer trembled and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

The leatherman pushed himself into the man beneath him. The rookie screwed his eyes shut and panted, trying not to scream in pain from the penetration of that massive cock up his chute. Finally, Reardon’s heavy ballsack rested against the asscheeks of the young patrolman. McLaren's package was rigid in its steel prison and looked ready to explode.

“Tony …” The young patrolman opened his eyes. He was still panting.

“You did it. Welcome to the Four-One …” He bent down and kissed the rookie’s neck as he began to piston in and out of the virgin hole.

* * *
We were fortunate that the elevator opened right way. Mattie and I stepped inside, and once I pushed the button for the fourth floor, he found himself up against the wall with my mouth latched onto his. He opened, welcoming the thrust of my slick tongue, and moaned when I cupped his ass to grind our cocks together. He wrapped his arms around my neck, kissing me back. His tongue duelled with me for supremacy. He changed the angle of his head to deepen the kiss, licking into the sweet recesses of my mouth. Mateo pushed against my larger body, and we ended up in reverse position on the opposite wall.

Mattie’s skin was hot and the clothes bothersome. I know he wanted to feel the expanse of my bare body against him. He rubbed against me as if he were a cat. We vaguely heard the ding of the elevator as it reached my floor but we didn't want to break our connection. I thought the same but I pushed out against wall and spun Mateo around. Our mouths finally separated as breathing became a necessity.

"Wrap your legs around me." I growled.

Mattie gave a little jump and did as told. He was amazed when I lifted him so easily. Despite his leaner build, we nearly matched in height.

Mateo latched his lips onto my neck and sucked, careful not to leave a mark but making sure to get a good taste of the man he craved. His tongue licked, and his teeth nibbled on my salty skin. The lingering scent of my aftershave tantalized him, and he burrowed his nose below my jaw. When we reached my doorway, he reluctantly untangled himself from my hold.

We shoved our way inside. I threw my keys on the table, barely remembering to kick the door shut behind us. Taking his hand, I dragged him into the bedroom and stopped at the foot of the king size bed.

My hands were already at the hem of his shirt, lifting and tugging it over his head. When he finally freed his arms, I threw it somewhere over by the windows, repeating the motion with my own shirts. Mattie groaned at the sight of my wide, bare chest. His gaze zeroed in on the dark nipples, and he sucked one into this mouth. My hands buried themselves in his soft brown hair for a moment, and my lover cried out at the sensation then got busy undoing the button and zipper of his jeans. He kicked his way out of the offending garment and his leather micro-trunks.


Oh fuck, he's a leatherman too ...

He sank to his knees, working on the fastening of my jeans. When the buttons were finally open, My long, thick cock fell out to greet him.

Dios, Charlie ... you’re bare …” he breathed.

Matt pushed the material down my hips and looked up at me - a blue-eyed sex god before him.

One hand cupped my smooth balls while the other fisted the large erection. Mateo tilted his head and ran his tongue over my orbs, slipping them into his mouth one at a time. His tongue glided over the satin-soft skin, then he flattened it licking up to the crest where he was greeted with salty-sweet moisture. He opened and sucked the large round head of my cock into his mouth.

The spaniard swirled his tongue around the flange and dipped into the weeping slit.

I moaned. "Oh, that's it. Suck me."

Mateo opened his jaw as much as possible and sank down on the hot thick column of flesh filling him. I guess he'd mastered the art of deep-throating long ago with his cousins in Greece, and I certainly appreciated the diligent practice.

"Holy Christ, Mattie!”

He hollowed his cheeks as his lips rose up my long cock, swiped his tongue over the head and descended to the root one more time. His throat constricted as he swallowed, and he heard my deep groan above his head. He continued his up-and-down movements, even using his teeth to nip on the tender flesh and exert extra pressure on the base.

I couldn’t help it - I babbled at the added sensations. My hands once again buried themselves in Mateo’s hair as my trim hips began to thrust. Matt closed his eyes and savored the sensation of having his mouth fucked, but I know he wanted to feel me buried inside him when we came this first time together.

He looked up and caught my brilliant blue gaze to convey his desire.

I pulled out and lifted him under his arms to once again align our bodies. Our lips met in a tender kiss, a dissimilar sensation to the primal grabs and thrusts we'd so far shared. Arousal ripped through Mattie’s system. He separated our lips, sat on the bed and then scooted backwards until he could reach the bedside table. I knelt on the down-filled comforter and crawled up to loom over his body.

I pushed one finger through the ring of Mateo’s anus. My finger moved around quickly and a second joined when he begged for more. I continued to suck while I stretched him. Three fingers now slid in and out of his ass. The burn was exquisite, and his body demanded more.

"Fill me up, Charlie. I want that long, thick dick inside me now!"

I lined up my head with Mattie’s pulsating opening then lifted his legs over the thick golden forearms braced on my bed. I pressed forward, and the blunt head of my horsecock pushed at his opening. I paused only a couple of inches in.

"Oh God in Heaven, don't stop Charlie! Please, please give me it all!"

I was breathing heavily.

"Not stopping ... Couldn't even if ... oh, fuck me, you feel so good."

My thick cock continued to fill him deep and the burn sent welcoming sparks of sensation across his nerve endings. Mateo pressed down and impaled himself, crying out at the feeling when my cock surged to the hilt and my round full balls slapped against his ass. Those globes bounced against him as I thrust hard. Mattie reached back and grabbed the railing of the iron bed frame.

"Harder...harder ... amor HARDER!" He lifted his legs over my shoulders so I could get deeper. My hips sped up. The sound of our skin slapping against each other and the scent of sex filled the moonlit bedroom. I pegged his prostate and I could see stars burst behind his eyes.

"Fuck me!"

My dick pistoned in and out of him at a blinding pace. Sweat dripped down off my nose to land on his chest.

"Yes...yes. You feel so fucking good ..." I panted.

"Soon," he warned.

Mateo's orgasm closed in. His spine tingled, his balls pulled up tight against his incredible body. I adjusted the angle of my thrusts and stroked right over his gland, causing him to scream as he came without a single touch to his cock. Waves of ecstasy rolled over him short-circuiting his brain. Cum coated his stomach and chest.

I pounded inside him several more times then I stiffened. My back and head arched, the tendons in my neck standing out as a slash of moonlight landed directly on my torso as I roared out my climax.

* * *

We laid in bed for awhile savoring the euphoria. Mateo's eyes were closed, and his head rested on my chest. One long muscled arm held him close and I lazily rubbed his back. He opened those beautiful green eyes of his.

"Charlie?"
He traced delicate curlicues around my nips.

"Mmmm?"


"God, I want to stay with you, I do. I want nothing more than to fall asleep wrapped in your arms. But I have an 5am teleconference with some suppliers in Athens tomorrow."


"We'll just have to plan better in the future."
He moved to get up, but I pulled him back.

"Not yet, sweetheart."
I knew I was being rather presumptuous, but being with this man felt right in a way I'd never experienced with guys I'd dated in the past.

Our lips met and tongues came out to play. My hand cupped his cheek as our kiss deepened, and our bodies fell back onto the bed. Mateo arched into the warm expanse of skin covering him, savoring the weight pushing him into the mattress. We moved back and forth against each other, tongues sliding in and out of our mouths. I broke away and nuzzled along Matt's cheek and neck, licking along his Adam's apple and in hollow at the base of his throat.

I continued to rub myself against his thigh in sync with my hand stroking his cock. I lifted my head from where it had been attached to bury itself in the thick silkiness of Mattie's hair. Then I slid my arm under his arched neck and pulled our bodies closer together. My lips floated over his temple and down his cheek, finally finding their match. Mateo’s mouth opened under mine, and I sipped from the sweet recess.

“You still taste like Balakava …” I whispered.

"Soon...gonna," Mateo's voice rasped.

My head ducked back down, and I bit a hard nipple waiting for me. His cry filled the air, and liquid heat covered my hand. His hips thrust twice more, and he shot his release against the muscled leg beside him. I milked Mattie's cock until my lover's body stopped shaking. Mattie's mind floated back to earth when he heard my dark, husky voice in his ear.

"You are so fucking hot when you come..."

I sat up and slid to the edge of the bed. I padded over to the bathroom and waited a moment until the water filling the sink warmed to above freezing temperatures. Once satisfied, I dampened a cloth, then wiped away the traces of our passion. I got another cloth from beneath the vanity, moistened it then carried it back into the bedroom then cleaned Mateo's cock for him. I placed a little kiss on the soft flesh then threw the cloth in the hamper on the other side of the room. We dressed, but Mateo stopped me when I went to pull on my jeans.

"You don't need to drive me all the way home and come back, amor. Stay. I'll catch a cab."

I gathered him into my arms again. "I don't mind, Mattie. I want to savor every minute together with you ... how about a drink before you leave?"

He nodded. We came out of the bedroom wrapped around each other and into the living area. I reluctantly separated from Matt's hold and walked over to where I kept a bottle of Irish whisky. I poured each of us a finger and carried it over, handing the lead crystal glass I'd inherited from my grandma to my lover. We stared at each other as we sipped the warm, spicy liquor.

Silence filled the darkened space.

When we'd finished, Mateo took his glass and set it on the island. Then he took my hand and led me back down the hall to the front door. He leaned in and kissed me, his hand secure to the back of my neck. The slow, deep meshing of mouths was erotic and spine tingling. When we pulled apart, our noses together, he gave me one last peck.

"I'll see you later."

"You can count on it."
* * *

I was of two minds when I started writing this story: whether to do it in the third- or first-person. First person won out. Sometimes, my stories can be a little dark, and I wanted this one to be a bit lighter and in keeping with the season. A while back, I had come across a couple of videos of Kevin Perod and fell in love with him. He's a 26-year old natural bodybuilder from Texas and he is one of the most handsome men I've ever seen. In an earlier entry, I spoke about the young patrolman I was watching and the two ideas coalesced - I wanted to develop that story further and give the officer's point of view of that encounter. 

As I was writing this, an interesting plot twist occurred to me - if I made my young patrolman related to Danny Kaminski, I could also involve some of my other characters - albeit tangentially - into the story. I was also watching an extremely hot video on YouTube called "Leather and Law (2)" . This video has a bunch of leather-clad "cops" engaged in a number of highly erotic activities. All the puzzle pieces now fell into place.
 
The slightly dark detour in this entry - McLaren's "initiation" - was the culmination of several story threads that had been rattling around in my head for a number of months, but never seemed to find the proper outlet. Even though Danny has left the force and is now a permanent member of The Castle, the behaviors he set in motion continue and expand. Forced shaving and forced inking were two concepts I wanted to explore and this provided an excellent entree into that practice.
 
Charlie and Mateo remind me a lot of Richard and Amery - my 1940's mobster/spy and his military lover. There's a sweetness between both pairs of lovers, but my more contemporary guys also have a darker and kinkier twist - both are leathermen - and Charlie's "big brother" at the precinct is the leader of a group of hard-core leather cops...
 

So readers ... you have a little hint of things to possibly come ... stay tuned!
 

And on behalf of all the AE's - Charlie, Mateo, Richard, Amery, Bastian, Jimmy, Lucio, Giaan, Kiran, Constantine and all the rest - Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all!!






Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Thank you readers!

As of today, I have officially crossed the 25,000 visitor mark!



Saturday, November 13, 2010

Photo Study #5 - Rap Star

In my previous post, I had used a pair of theatrical contact lenses from 9mm - great stuff, but since they are considered "yearly" lenses, they are a little thicker.

I wanted to see if I could find bi-weekly or monthly lenses that would do the same thing and at a lower price point (At $150, the other lenses weren't exactly cheap ...)

American brands were disappointing overall - nothing really changed my eye color as dramatically as I wanted. The closest I came was a medium bronze color. I came across a very interesting site called Lens101 (www.lens101.com) and posted the question there - "Any disposable contacts that would turn light eyes dark?"

Surprisingly enough, I got an answer - A UK brand called "Images" makes a cosmetic contact lens in a monthly formulation. So I ordered a pair and gave them a try.

I'll let you decide how they look. I wore these with my other Player mask - this has more of a Latino coloring and a thin line of razor-cut stubble on the face. I'm planning on going out tonight like this...



Friday, November 12, 2010

Photo Study #4 - Conviction

By now, most of you have probably heard about the young Asian guy wearing an SPFX Elder mask to claim refugee status in Canada:



Besides a multitude of other reasons, this guy is a moron - how could you get a mask like that and wear it that poorly?


If you're going to do something, do it well.

I have my Player mask, and I was always a bit annoyed that there was a little bit of skin peeking out around the eyes and if I closed my eyes, you'd see those caucasian eyelids. Plus, I have light colored eyes which also didn't quite add credence to the illusion I wanted to create.

So I screwed my courage to the wall and got some foundation makeup and contacts. I've had more than my share of eye infections and other problems, so I was very hesitant about putting anything near or in my eyes. But if I was going to be a dangerous looking black man, I needed to look the part!

I got myself an official orange prison jumpsuit and had the sleeves lengthened to accommodate the silicone sleeves. ("Standard" jumpsuits have short sleeves, for obvious reasons) I put the brown contacts in, applied the makeup around the eyes and then slipped on the mask.

This masking experience was amazing and frankly, unnerving - I really felt that a hard-core black convict (perhaps indicted for murder or rape or some other violent crime) was staring back at me.

I truly accomplished a complete (albeit impermanent) transformation.