The Breeding of Charlie Hawke - Part III - A Thug's Life

(For the Blogger censors ... this a work of FICTION - any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. Language, situations and behaviors are only utilized within the confines of the post to enhance the story itself and do not represent any real-life circumstances in any way.)

CHARLIE/RAY-RAY
Friday, 1:55pm

Roll call went smoothly. Sarge didn’t bat an eye when he saw me swagger into the room and as usual, I sat down next to my partner Tony McLaren. Everyone was in short sleeves because of the weather, and the powerful muscles beneath Tony’s smoothly inked arms were twitching like sharks cruising underwater. The harness I wore underneath my shirt creaked slightly as I rotated my shoulders.

“You look fucking amazing Ch...Ray.” He whispered. I could see the bulge his engorged cock was making through the leg of his uniform pants. I gave it a quick squeeze. He was still locked into the triple C-ring as part of his own Initiation.

I flashed him a bright grin. “Ah know.” I felt like a completely different man now. I WAS a completely different man now. I was a lowlife ghetto motherfucker with a rapsheet masquerading as a cop and it was the most amazing thing that had ever happened to me.

I got a big white smile in return. "You cocky black bastard..."

The shift itself was uneventful as well. I guess it was too damned hot for anyone to commit any serious crimes. I was wondering if I could wear the penis plug when I plowed Sam’s ass off-duty tonight and I texted Zack the question. Within a few minutes, I got my answer back.

Not for beginners. Can u stop by Sat for a lesson?

I chuckled at the response and showed Tony the conversation. “Jeez, Ray… it's not even a day and you’re becoming a regular sex machine.”

I rubbed my crotch and the penis plug sent a bolt of electricity through me. “Well, Ah gotz da rep-u-tayshun az a cock-hungry lowlife nigga t'maintain, bruh…”

* * *

SAM
Friday 8:18pm

Ray and I started our tryst in the showers. We wound up soaping each other up and doing some heavy-duty tonsil hockey with the cool water spraying over us. After we dried off and got dressed, the two of us got on the subway and headed home to my apartment.

We didn’t waste any time getting buck naked as soon as the door was closed and locked. I took him in my arms and the two of us explored each other’s mouths and bodies in front of my bedroom window. His transformation was so perfect, I couldn't think of him as anything but the swaggering, sex-hungry black man he had become.

“Ain't 'chu concern'd 'bout da neighborz?”

“Nah. If they’re jealous of who I’ve got in my arms, that's just too damned bad…”

He laughed as I nuzzled his neck. “Sam, you iz one ro-mantic ginger, y'know dat?”  

That newly deeper voice of his was such a damned turn on... and so was his ghetto dialect... there was absolutely nothing to indicate he was EVER anything but the cocky black fucker he was now...

“How could I not be romantic with you here?” 

It was true. I had this strikingly handsome, square-jawed African ghetto-stud in front of me, his hands roaming demandingly over my body and his massive cock twitching in my grasp. I stroked its incredible length with both hands and Ray shivered as I played with the steel ball at its tip. 

I knelt down to suck his cock. The cap was so damn big and thick I could barely fit it in my mouth... but I was determined to do it. 

As I licked and sucked the head of his dick, Ray moaned and placed his hands on the back of my head; he started to push his cock further into my mouth. I pulled back and licked the length of the super-thick shaft to get it nice and slick. 

When I went back to sucking, he pushed his way into my mouth until the steel-shod head of his tool was wedged past the back of my throat. I inhaled deeply through my mouth to open my throat, then impaled myself on his gigantic cock at the same time he thrusted, sending over nine fat inches of the great ebony monster all the way inside me. His nuts hit me on the chin.

I reached up and grabbed his wrists to stop him from pushing more into my throat until I could adjust. I swiveled my head from side to side causing Ray to hiss from the massaging action.

"Dayumm, whiteboy, where'd 'chu learn tah do dat?" 

I slid his dripping shaft out of my gullet to respond, and to get some air. I was honestly amazed I was able to take that much of his tool in just one try. I know I'm a damn good cocksucker, but Ray’s cock was like having two at one time. 

I left my throat gaping and empty from the sudden withdrawal of his massive piece. I grinned up into the dark, dark eyes. "Lots of practice... and I had a good teacher - Professor Danny Kaminski." 

The brown-skinned lowlife laughed and grabbed his cock, rubbing it on my face. "How 'bout 'chu getz back t'work on dis an' showz me wat else Charlie's uncle taught 'chu?"

I took his dick in my hands, still amazed at the sheer weight of it, as I sucked the head into my mouth. I started the side to side motion again, taking more of his cock with each thrust. 

“Oh GOD, Sam, dat feelz so fiiiine…” His head tipped back and his eyes closed in ecstasy.

Ray placed his hands on my head again, but this time didn’t push. He just stroked the back of my head as I worked on his big fat cock. I felt one hand leave my scalp and start to stroke the back of my neck and down my spine. I kept giving that black monster dick of his a throat massage until I felt the head swell as he shot a gigantic load of cum down my gullet. 

I sat back on my heels and looked into that handsome and sexy African face. I licked my lips at the thought of plowing that perfect chocolate-brown ass of his.

“Get on the bed, Ray.”

The black gang-banger sat on the edge of the bed and squeezed the head of his still rock-hard cock out of the retaining ring of the penis plug. Then he pulled it out. He flipped over to rest on his elbows with his ass in the air as he grabbed the button of the butt plug and pulled. In a few moments, the rim of the thick silvery sphere made an appearance and then with a PLOP was out of his hole.

I whistled. “That’s one big plug – is it heavy?”

He handed it to me. It was and nearly hot to the touch. “Damn... and you keep that in you all time?”

Ray nodded. "Keepz me hard an' horny all day... you shood try it..." His dark pucker winked at me as he looked over his shoulder and gave me an inviting grin. “C’mon Sam – time fo' dat po-lice dick ov yo's tah split me wiiiide open…”

I poured a generous amount of lube on my engorged shaft and straddled him. Hands on his waist, I slowly pushed in. The black man hissed as I drove in deeper and deeper.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No… no… feelz good, bruh. Reel good...” I kept going. Finally, my nuts rested against his dark asscheeks. Then I began to pull out and in, giving him a slow and powerful ride.

The Nubian stud beneath me was getting into it. “Oh dayumm.... Fuck me harda, Sam – Ah ain't gonna break... Ahhhhhh SHEE-IT..." 

At some point, my hands moved from his waist to his shoulders and I started to pump faster as well. After a particularly intense thrust, I groaned and unloaded what felt like gallons of my seed into him. A fine sheen of sweat covered both of us. It was so damned hot to see that gleaming dark body beneath me. I kissed the back of his neck and nibbled an ear. 

Ray turned his head so our lips met. We kissed deeply for several minutes, still joined together. I rolled onto my side and spooned Ray into my arms, my cock still fully embedded up his ass. 

“Wow… dat wuz summ fuckin' ride, whiteboy...” He snuggled further into my embrace as I stroked delicate designs on his chest and abs. In a few moments, I felt him relax; his breathing slowed as he drifted off to sleep.

I continued to caress the powerful dark-skinned hustler beside me as I drifted off as well. Hopefully this wouldn’t be the last ride I have with him either…

* * * 

RAY-RAY
Saturday, 7:44am

I woke up with sun streaming into my face and Sam's powerful arms still wrapped around me. After the ginger cop gave me another solid ass-pounding, I rimmed him; then he was on the receiving end of a heavy-duty fisting past my elbow, followed by a vigorous power-fuck.

We showered together and then I pushed the metal sphere back into my ass. The penis plug I wrapped in tissue and slipped into my pocket; Zack's instructions had been abundantly clear on the insertion: "wash your hands and plug in hot water and antibacterial soap first, dry with a disposable paper towel and ONLY use the surgical lube for reinsertion." I gave Sam a deep kiss after I got dressed and headed out into the already steamy morning back to my apartment.

Just before I went down into the subway, I checked my phone. I had received another text from Zack during the night:

Come over around 5pm. Training and dinner.

Homemade Greek food.

I smiled to myself. Now how could I turn an offer down like that?

* * *

RAY-RAY
Saturday, 5:05pm

It took me a bit longer than I expected to get back to Zack's place in Brooklyn. There wasn't any buses running that far out to the river, so I wound up walking about a mile from the last stop. Even wearing just a half-unbuttoned pair of low-rise jeans and an open sleeveless hoodie, I was covered in a fine sheen of sweat when I finally got to the metal door. I got buzzed in and when I reached the anteroom, I heard Zack's voice.

"I'm in the kitchen, Ray - come on in!!"

I followed the amazing smells wafting around and found him at the stove. He was wearing only glasses and a pair of snug A&F sweatpants that hugged every inch of his lower body. He took the frying pan off the heat and turned around to hold me in his arms.


"Damn... you look more... voracious ... every time I see you..." He slid his hands under my hoodie to stroke my back and gave me a deep kiss. I pulled him closer so our crotches ground together.

"Well, readin' dat pers'nal his'try you gavez me, Ah gotz t'be da sex-hungry, bad-ass black muthafucka it sez Ah iz..."

A dark eyebrow arched. "Hmmm... and I see you're carrying a concealed weapon..."

I grinned. "Uh-huh... ev'ry time Ah kissez you, Ah cain't waitz tah getz you nekkid an' plow yo' muscle-puppy ass, whiteboy..." Jeez... becoming a black man with a rapsheet was THE best thing that ever happened to me...

We kissed for a while. I missed Mattie, and even though they didn't look similar, Zack reminded me so much of my lover. Only way, way kinkier. We came up panting after a particularly long kiss and Zack tucked his hand into my AE briefs and fondled my steel-ringed cock and balls. I groaned as bolts of pleasure exploded from my groin throughout the rest of my body. He grabbed my package and gave me a wicked smirk.

"Let's go upstairs - it's time for your lesson."

* * *

I sat at the edge of the bed as Zack pulled down his sweats. He was commando and was wearing the same plug as I did in his rapidly hardening cock.

"First thing - always wear a condom when you have sex with the plug. Your dick is basically held open and you need some extra protection to make sure you don't get any infections." He opened a package and slipped the thin material over his thick shaft. His face hardened and his hazel eyes took on a powerfully commanding gleam.

"Take off your clothes Ray... and stretch over that table."

In a moment, I was as naked as he was. He grabbed the button of the butt plug and slowly pulled it out of my ass.

"Ahhhh..."

He gave me a crooked grin. "Yes, I am going to FUCK that amazing black ass of yours. The best way for you to learn how have sex with a cock-plug is getting one up your own chute first."

"You da boss, whiteboy... Dis time..." I licked my thick lips in anticipation. He gave my ass a powerful slap and I jerked in surprise.

I got a wolfish smile in return. "If the hole in question hasn't been relaxed a bit already, you need to stretch it first..." He poured some lube over his fingers.

I felt his digit slide over my pucker and my cock jumped. In a flash, he pressed it against my hole until it found its way inside my ass. Then another pushed its way in. Then a third. I grunted as he gave the inside of my sphincter a gentle massage.

"... With a finger still inside, guide your dick into the said hole..." I felt two of the digits withdraw and his steel-clad cock push it way in. I could actually feel the steel ball of the plug rubbing against my channel.

"...and now begin a slow - and I mean SLOW pump. You need to remember at all times that you've got a steel shaft down your dick. A plug with a retaining ring - versus one that's held in place by a piercing - gives you a bit more control, but you can still get hurt  - if you're not careful."

Zack's hands gripped my waist and I was redlining from the slow deep-dicking he was giving me.

"Oh, yeahhhh... dat feelz amazin', Zack. Ah kin feelz da ball ov dat plug wiff ev'ry thrust ov yo' cock..." The steel was smacking into my prostate each time he pushed in.

"And when you're feeling you're ready to cum, you need to stay in control and keep the rhythm going..."

He sped up slightly and then I felt him go rigid as he grunted and a blast of heat seared my guts. In a moment, he pulled out and collapsed onto the bed. He got up on all fours and gave me a wink.

"Now it's your turn. Surgical lube is on the table. Remember to wash up first."

I gave him a wolfish grin. "Mmm-mmm-mmm... Ah jus' luvz breedin' whiteboyz..."

* * *
Zack gave me an "A" on my newly-developed skill. We got dressed (such as it was) and headed downstairs. Dinner took a bit longer to prepare as I kept wrapping my arms around his torso and snuggling him. It didn't take much to get him distracted and there was more than one long interval of vigorous tonsil hockey.

During one extended session where our tongues were dueling within our mouths, a tone sounded and Zack looked at CCTV monitor to see who was at the door. His dark brows literally crawled into his hairline and he pushed the button to admit the visitor.

"You wantz me tah disappear?"

He shook his head. "No - it's okay. I just wasn't expecting anyone right now. Particularly him."

I heard footsteps and soon the visitor came into the kitchen area. A cap was pulled low over his stubbled face, but it merely shadowed the handsome, slightly cruel features rather than obscuring them.

Like Zack, he had the smooth, gleaming skin from a professional waxing and the developed physique of a highly-dedicated bodybuilder. His powerful arms strained the material of the completely open striped shirt to near bursting, and he had an elaborate Aztec/Mayan blackwork tattoo that started on the back of one hand, crawled up his arm and disappeared into the rolled-up sleeve. He was carrying a thin silver briefcase which he put down on the countertop.

He took off his cap, displaying a clean-shaven head and piercing blue eyes with thick black lashes. The man gave Zack a wide smile and lifted him off the ground in his arms. He put him down and gave him a soft kiss.

"Damn, Zackie - that lamb smells delicious!!!"

Then he noticed me. I got a darkly sexual once-over and he licked his lips. His hungry glance gave me the shivers and there was an intense, underlying vibe of professional violence about him. I got the distinct feeling he'd probably snap my neck after he fucked me...

"Frank, this is Ray. What brings you to this neck of the woods? You want dinner? We've got plenty..."

"Nah - I'd love to, but not tonight. I've got to take care of somebody and then I'm going to a beach party. Since I was heading out this way, Mr. Guidice asked me to drop this off for the certificates you did last week."

Zack opened the briefcase and gasped. "Frank, this is way too much money!"

Frank laughed. "Zackie, you're the only guy I know that would EVER say something that! Anyways, the boss said to put in a little extra for his favorite godson."

"I'm his ONLY godson."

Frank grabbed his cap. "Whatever." He grinned and nodded in my direction. "Is Ray for dessert? If so, maybe I'll come back later..."

Zack laughed. "This piece of dark chocolate is too rich for you, Frank... you'll get a bellyache."

It was the other's turn to chuckle. "Okay - no sharing. He's special. I got it. You coming over for dinner on Wednesday, right?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world!"

"Okay, see you then, kid." With that, he pulled the cap back onto his head, wrapped Zack in a bear hug and left. But not before he pulled me to him. I got a extremely deep French kiss, a rather presumptuous ass massage and a "Real nice meeting you, Ray." that intimated in no uncertain terms a desire to have me buck naked and impaled on his shaft.


* * *

I leaned against the counter and pinched the bridge of my nose. I closed my eyes and took a couple of deep breaths.

"Ray, what's the matter?"

"You iz Salvatore Guidice's godson? Da head ov da fuckin' Molanto crime syndicate's Salvatore Guidice?"

He nodded. "Uncle Sal's been more of a father to me than my biological parents. They weren't too happy with my life choices - "

"Like fuckin' guyz?"

"- like fucking guys. Among other things. Uncle Sal said to me, 'Zackie - I don't care where you dip your wick. After all you've been through, you deserve to be happy. I love you as if you were my own flesh and blood. And I'll support you in anything you do. Always will. But if I ever catch you using the gifts that God gave you to help a fucking terrorist, I'll cut your heart out and roast it myself. We may be criminals, but we ain't traitors.' "

"An' dat 'Frank' wuz Frank Ferrara? 'Frankie da Phantom' - Molanto's numba-one hitman? Zack, noboddy fuckin' even knowz wat he lookz like! An' he gay? Duz yo' uncle know dat too?"

He nodded again. "He doesn't mind, as long as he's discreet. And he is. In spades. There was a huge shakeup in the whole organization and Frank came highly recommended from the West Coast. He'll take over when Uncle Sal retires. In the meantime, he's learning the business here and watching Uncle Sal's back to prevent anyone from getting any funny ideas." 

I shook my head. "Holy fuckin' shit..." My head was spinning. Despite the shock of the revelations I had just heard, I had never dropped out of Ray's persona of the dieseled ghetto rat - not for a second... because THAT was who I really was now. I could see that it had finally dawned on Zack as well the perfect and absolute totality of the metamorphosis he had wrought upon me.

"This doesn't change anything between us, does it?" 

"No - jus' cummz az a bit ovva shock."  I grinned at him and peeled down his sweats to fondle his rapidly swelling steel-stuffed cock. "Shee-it... Ah didn' knowz Ah wuz breedin' such a well-connect'd whiteboy..."

* * *

RAY-RAY
Several Weeks Later

In some ways, the Sarges' behavior towards me had some unexpected consequences during my self-imposed Initiation period. The incredible brutality that had been inflicted - the (supposedly) forced Transformation, the mega dildo, the chastity - had in a sense made me the property of Jamie Reardon and Tommy Namisato. By extension, if you fucked with the Sarges' property, they (or the property) had every right to fuck with you back.

So when I got plowed, the other guys were somewhat surprised to get fucked and/or fisted in return.

And they wanted it done to them as much as I NEEDED to do it.

For every time I had sex with Sarge or one of the other cops as a patrolman (like in the weight room or bathroom), there were four times as many for doing it as a cocky street punk.

In addition to meetups for rough, back-alley sex, these could take the form of either a "capture and arrest" or an "ambush".

In the former, I would get a piece of paper in my locker with an address and time on it. It could be a bar, a corner or even an alleyway. Sometimes there would be some directions like "look like you're attempting a B&E." From there, the scenario would unwind by itself. There could be a chase (or not) a struggle (usually) but I always wound up captured, cuffed and raped. Ever since that time with Jamie in the alley with the Toyota, being locked into restraints and fucked somewhere public put me into sexual overdrive. The more thuggish I got, the more punishment I received and that just spiraled the situation into a mind-shattering XXX-rated adventure. The cop (or cops) would enjoy yanking the plug out of my ass and filling it with their cocks, and before they finished up, it was always shoved back in place. Then, as my cuffs were removed, I'd overpower one of them and take his gun. I'd force them to get naked and then return the "po-lice brutality" with some heavy-duty ass-raping and/or fistballing.

Similarly, the latter situation would involve an address and time, but would also include an access card or a set of keys. I would basically be waiting for a cop (or cops) at their house/apartment or some other location. It would be a home invasion or an ambush in the purest sense of the word. There was always some gunplay involved (with the safety on and/or the gun unloaded, of course) and there would be a similar struggle where the cop would be the loser and he (or they) would get stripped naked and abused by a vicious black gang-banger, culminating in a brutal violation, fisting or both. A similar spiral of sexual tension would play out in these scenarios as well and all wound up bruised and sore, but happy and satisfied.

As more time passed, it was getting harder and harder to view my previous existence of  'Charlie Hawke' as anything but a badly-written bit part in a particularly low-budget B-movie. I came to realize  I was 'Ray-Ray Johnson' now - through and through. I couldn't even think of myself as a white man any longer - because I wasn't. Being a police officer - African-American or otherwise - felt viscerally wrong ...  and ... a waste of my time.

My reactions and attitude now belonged to the lowlife black thug that I had truly become; I got an incredible rush from assaults, robberies and mayhem, plus fisting, ass- and skull-fucking any muscle-puppy I could lay my hands on - more so by force. I remember one time going out with Zack to a party in the Hamptons where I wound up being serviced by a jacked-up white gym rat. He was an excellent cocksucker, but what really turned my crank was the inherent validity of the tableau I was a part of - this whiteboy (or for that matter, any  whiteboy) serving their Nubian masters without question and being nothing but an object to be stuffed at both ends by thick black man-meat - he was gulping my shaft down his throat as another muscle-brutha was pounding his ass at the same time.

I also spent time with Zack every week. Perhaps it was the fact that he created 'Ray-Ray' and I had been fully conscious every step of the way that a special bond developed between the two of us. When sex was involved, it was incredible; when it wasn't, we just enjoyed being together. We'd also go out to some high-end clubs (fetish or otherwise) and there was never a dearth of hard, hot bodies wanting to be serviced by a good-looking, cocky and sexually insatiable black criminal.

Criminal? That's right - Ray-Ray was definitely on the wrong side of the law. That piece of my persona was encouraged by some veiled references by Guidice's godson and the rumor mill filled in the rest. Thanks to the bio (and rap sheet) that Zack created for me as a thug, I knew what crimes I had committed and what I was capable of. My alleged illegal background held an addictive allure to me as well - I could definitely see myself becoming a sadistic drug-dealer or enforcer in the company of other lowlife muscle-bruthas and wreaking havoc above and beyond just assault and forced sex. My police experience and training would stand me in good stead with my new criminal employers and my insider knowledge of the NYPD would also prove invaluable to them. I'd even taken an H&K out of the evidence locker and committed several robberies at gunpoint -- the rush that those felonies gave me was incredible. Becoming a black man - and a black felon, now - seemed one-hundred percent proper to me - I realized with absolute certainty being like this is what I always should have been - not a white man, and definitely not a white cop.

I always brought my restraints and harness when I went to see Zack; he was into leather as well - so whether we went to a fetish club, or stayed home, we always had a great time.

* * *
It was about four weeks into my transformation that Zack gave me a critical look when I stopped by for my regular weekly visit. I had enjoyed putting on a show on the cross-town bus - slumping in the seat, legs spread wide to show off my massive bulge, rubbing my chest and crotch and eyeing any hot-looking men that got on. At this point,  I didn't care if they were black, white, brown or yellow - I needed to Breed. I needed to shove my thick black horsecock up some guy's ass and watch him writhe and scream beneath me as I made him my property.

"Ray, you're fading a little. You know that?"

"Yeah??" I was surprised. I hadn't noticed any difference. No one at the precinct had said anything either.

"I know you wanted to show off the "new you" to Mattie - is he back yet?"

I shook my head. He's gonna be home inna few weekz. Cain Ah getz a touchup?" 

Zack grinned. "Of course you can! Let's darken you back up." He paused and rubbed his chin. "I think you need some ink, too."

* * *

He did another superb job. In addition to the regular dye, Zack also used some metal toothpicks and very fine brushes to draw blackwork tattoos on my arms and chest. I looked in the mirror and grinned at the new bodyart that was a permanent part of me - as long as I remained Ray-Ray... and that would be for far longer than anyone had EVER anticipated - myself included.

"You like the additions?" 

I couldn't wait another minute to rape someone's ass. "Uh-huh. Dis callz fo' a celebray-shun, whiteboy..."

I threw him over my shoulder and headed up the stairs.

* * *

Well, I had been hoping to finish the story in three parts, but it looks like Officer Hawke (or Officer Johnson) wanted to take a bit more of a journey. Charlie’s transformation is having a major effect on the other officers at the precinct, and everyone wants to get a piece of his ebony ass one way or another. We also see here a bit of personality warping as a result of the rookie cop's transformation into Ray-Ray; the thought of permanent black thuggery and a life of violent crime is becoming a tempting alternative to him at this point.

The scenarios mentioned here will also be fodder for more stories. Again, I’m trying to not overdo the details and burden the reader with too long an installment.

The fourth part will definitely include his “unveiling” to Mateo and possibly some interaction with Captain Morgan. That plot is in the outline, but I have to see if it flows smoothly into the denouement of the story arc.
 
The concept of  “ownership” and all the ramifications that that entailed literally came out of nowhere. As I was lying in bed, the thought just popped into my head. It merged well with the story as it was unfolding, so I put it in. 

Charlie's need for sexual gratification seem to have gone off the charts as well since his transformation. Not only in the quantity of sex with the other officers at the precinct, but the brutal, back-alley quality of it as well. Clever readers can imagine the tendrils of Carreau's influence beginning to manifest itself in this attitude and behavior.

Similarly, Zack’s relationship with organized crime felt right. The ‘big shakeup’ I mentioned was Don Franqui’s retirement and Lucio Giambi’s takeover of his businesses. Once the criminal element was established, the connection to the rest of my secondary world just clicked into place. 

As you can see, the new crime boss isn’t wasting any time in consolidating his assets. Fortunately for Guidice, he’s an extraordinarily insightful man and I can see him being a fixture in Lucio’s organization for as long as he wants. I can also see Frank taking a bit more of an active role in the day-to-day running of the East Coast business (and more stories along with it!)

And since this is the first story of 2015...