Thug Tales: Tony

(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.)

“Ray, can I, ummm, come by tomorrow afternoon?”

Tony McLaren and I were still on our beat and a knowing grin split my dark face. “Shure… an' bringz yo' leatherz, bruh - harness, strapz, chapz an' bootz.”

* * *

After Zack’s touchup and the added tats on my arms and torso, my headspace shifted again. I can’t quite explain it, but I felt blacker than before and even less like the white man I used to be.

I went out and got myself some steel bracelets and rings. I wore them on almost all of my fingers - including thumbs - whenever I wasn’t on duty, and one or two on each hand when I was.

The jewelry was a visible complement to the items beneath my clothes – the cock ring, the ass-sphere and the penis plug – and made me feel more sexually demanding and dominant as well. More in tune with the low-life ghetto rat I had been turned into and more in tune with the black felon I had truly become.

I was half-naked – deliberately so - when Tony arrived at the apartment.  I had on a shiny black doo-rag, some cutoff fleece shorts and a pair of worn Timberlands. The steel on my fingers and wrists glittered in the light from the windows and my exposed skin gleamed with a fine sheen of sweat. I had deliberately turned off the AC to heat up the room and make my skin gleam.

“Wow…” My partner was literally drooling as he looked at the oversexed black street hustler in front of him. He wasn’t anything to sneeze at either – he was wearing fleece cutoffs as well that wrapped snugly around his muscular thighs, a pair of soccer shoes and a black tank that framed his powerful torso and set off the elaborate inking on both well-developed arms. I could see the bulge of his package thickening the center of his shorts as I gave him a wicked white smile. Tony put down the gym bag containing his leathers for our further adventures later tonight; he was already slick with perspiration from the trip over to my place.

I pulled him close so our crotches ground together and grabbed his ass through the soft material. “You be lookin' dayumn fine yo'self, whiteboy…” I gave him a deep, hard kiss which he returned it with equal ardor.

When we broke apart, he gave me an appraising look. “You know, Ray -  this is the first time I’m really seeing you as a genuine black thug– and not just as ‘Charlie’ disguised as one any more. I can't believe how completely you've changed... but I think the tats finally did it. I love 'em. Those steel rings and bracelets are such a fucking turnon, too. You're a totally different person now.” He couldn't stop stroking my torso ... and I didn't feel like stopping him.

My thumbs massaged his hard obliques. “Ah ain't thought o' mahself az 'Charlie Hawke' – o' a whiteboy o' a reel cop – fo' weekz now, bruh. Ah lookz in da mirror an' Ah seez da crim'nal Sarge an' Zack cree-ated – 'Rayshawn Johnson'.  Ah luvz bein' a hulkin' black gang-banger. Ah knowz dat dis iz wat Ah SHOOD be..." I paused. "Tony, Ah thinkz... Ah thinkz Ah gotta stayz dis way fo' good... Ah nevva 'magin'd sumpthin' like dis cood evva happen t'me ... an' bein' like dis iz jus' too fuckin' RIGHT tah evva givez up... Ah cain't do it... Ah NEEDZ t'be a muscle-brutha and a fuckin' FELON 'cause datz who Ah reely IZ now....”

A strange look crossed his face as I made that admission to my partner. My dark eyes widened in amazement as I realized what that look meant. "You wantz it too, don'chu?" I stroked his face and gave him another deep kiss. "You wantz tah b'cumm a brutha too, don'chu, Tony? A black ghetto muthafucka like me fo' reel an' fo'evva? "

He swallowed hard. Nodded. "Yeah. I want ... I need to be a cocky, black lowlife like you, Ray. I haven't been able to stop thinking about getting Transformed too since I found out it was you in the locker room. Seeing what you've become, being just a white cop isn't enough for me any more, either..."

It felt good to finally voice that thought out loud. I had been struggling with reconciling my old life with my new one, but not any longer. I now thought of ‘Charlie Hawke’ as a completely separate person from myself. I was living in his apartment and (sometimes) wearing his clothes, but I wasn’t HIM. Not any more. My attitude and behavior was completely separate from the white man I had been (and now no longer wanted to be) ... I know he would have never dreamed of - let alone condoned - punch-fucking Jamie Reardon (and enjoying every minute of it) or stalking some random muscle-puppy on the street to drag into an alley to assault and rape every chance he got. The next time I visited Zack, I was going to ask him what we needed to do to make my Transformation permanent.

Which brought me back to Tony. “Ah figger'd afta we fuck'd each otha, we cood go out tah da Greasetank t'night an' breed us summ whiteboyz. Raw. Soundz good?”

He grinned. “Sounds great! Sarge said I should always follow your lead.”

I stoked his slabbed pecs and ran a dark finger down the canyon between them. "Yeah .. you iz gonna be mah stable stud. You getz all mah whiteboyz nice an' trained proper-like so dey knowz how tah service a brutha... 'Course Ah gotz t'hood you an' lock it in place. Dmitry an' Arkadiy tapez ev'ryone an' ev'rythin' at da club an' ain't abuvv usin' blackmail on da clientele."

I had removed the steel sphere from my butt and didn’t like the feeling of being empty. I grabbed a prepared backpack that was sitting on the table. “C’mon. We gotz summ hardcore ass-play on da menu.” I motioned for my partner to follow me out the door.

* * *

We entered the elevator and I pushed the “B” button.

“Where are we going?” I didn’t answer him.

In a moment, the doors opened and we threaded our way through the dusty basement and up a short flight of stairs. I pushed open a heavy metal door and Tony looked around to find ourselves in the service alley running behind the building. We could hear the muted noise of the city from the end of the passage and there was the flinty tang of heated cement and sour metal in the air. We were alone.

I put the backpack down and shucked off my shorts. Buck naked, I stretched myself over a large garbage container and my black pucker gave my partner an inviting wink.

I looked over my shoulder and chuckled at the shocked look on Tony's face. “D'ere’s plenty ov lube in da bag, Tony – c’mon … fuck me 'til Ah screamz.”

“HERE?”

“Nuthin' beatz ruff back-alley sex, whiteboy. Da chance ov gettin' caught jus' addz tah da rush. Strip off dem clothez an' shove dat steel-ringed horsecock ov yo's up mah black ass.” I had learned that with Jamie and Tommy when we left Zack's place after my Transformation.

“But… but… but what if someone sees us?”

“Who givez a shit? We’ll grab 'em an' fuck 'em too. Fillz up mah hole. NOW. Ah don’ like bein' empty.”

My partner pulled off his tank and pulled down his shorts. He stepped out of his jock and the sun gleamed on the steel that was locked around his cock and balls swollen with urgency.

Tony got into it soon enough. Once he was as naked as I was, he took out a bottle of Gun Oil and slathered it on his hard member so it glistened wetly in the afternoon light. He rubbed a generous amount of the lube into my hole as well and slowly pushed himself in.

“Ahhh….” After the butt-sphere, Tony’s rigid tool wasn’t a problem, but it felt so good to have some hot thick man-meat in my guts. He grabbed hold of my waist and started to pump.

I bellowed. “Harda, bruh! HARDA! Ah ain’t gonna hold back when Ah fuckz YO' ass! Ah needz it ruff an' Ah needz it deep an' hard! DO IT!” My voice echoed in the concrete canyon.

Tony quickened his pace as well as the intensity of this thrusts. I had to grip the edges of the container to stop my head from hitting the brick wall. He could be goddamned brutal when he put his mind to it. Just the way I wanted and had to be fucked. Every time he slammed into my butt I felt the hot steel of his massive triple cock ring against my cheeks and I howled every time he connected with my prostate. 

"SHITCHYEAH!! FUCK!!! Dat feelz so goddamned GOOD, whiteboy! Keepz on poundin' mah ass!" My partner threw back his head and screamed as I felt gallons of his seed scald my insides. He pulled out and leaned against the hot bricks, breathing heavily and gulping air to fill his lungs. His cock was still rock-hard and dripping a combination of lube and cum onto the concrete.

"Jeez, that was incredible..." He looked around, then grinned. Despite the noise we had been making, we were still alone. Tony followed my example and loped over to another container; my partner widened his stance to show off  his tight pucker and the muscular globes of his butt. "Go for it Ray - let me feel that big black cock of yours in my guts!"

"See, Ah tol' you alley-sex wuz da best..." I felt a bit of his jism dribble down my leg as I retrieved my ass-sphere from the bag and pushed it back into my chute.

I hissed as I removed the penis plug. I was going to give Tony the fucking of his life. Then I covered my aching black rod with a thick coating of lube and jammed it nuts-deep into my partner's waiting and eager hole.

* * *

Tony got more vocal and less inhibited the longer I raped him. I kept up a running conversation as I was pumping into him and he got into the back-and-forth with an eagerness that surprised me. I wondered... Would Jamie consider creating a second muscle-brutha at the precinct? "Yeahhh... whiteboyz like you needz lotz ov deep-dickin' alla time t'keep you r'spectfull..."

I felt my nuts churn. "You ready fo' summ Nubian man-seed in dem crackass 'testines ov yo's?" My dark hands - adorned with the steel rings and bracelets - gripped his tight, muscled waist as my cock slammed into him again and again. "You reddy tah b'cumm a brutha's prop'ety?"

Tony was panting. "Yeah! YEAH! The only thing better than your black dick up my ass is getting my guts filled with your cum! FUCK YEAH! FUCK Ray! Fill me up! Fill me up, Sir! DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!"

"You iz MINE whiteboy!" I screamed as I exploded inside him. My vision dimmed around the edges as I came multiple times inside my partner. Finally, I was milked dry and pulled out. My cock was still dripping as I gave Tony's ass a hard slap.

"Up on da dumpster, Tony... Ah ain't done wiff you... o' yo' ass... yet." I licked my lips as I watched him crawl on the top of the container; the combination of his powerful physique and sweaty inked skin was making me crazed with lust.

"On yo' back, whiteboy. Ah wanna watch yo' face az you getz fisted." My partner flipped over and grabbed the corners to brace himself. He lifted his muscular legs to expose his gaping pucker as a rivulet of cum leaked out of his ass. Perfect. Just the position "property" should assume with a black man.

I took the rings off my right hand and removed the container of J-Lube from the bag. In a moment, I was wearing a glistening glove and wasted no time in forcing it up his tortured ass.

"JESUS!" Tony howled as my fist forced past his sphincter and slid up his chute. I twisted my hand around his velvety smoothness and watched him writhe in ecstasy.

I pulled out and pushed back in, setting up a slow punch-fuck for the white stud grinning back at me.

"You like handball, don'chu, Tony?"

"Oh, fuck yeah...you're amazing, Ray. Absolutely amazing... Ahhhh.... oh, Mother of God...." My partner ground himself onto my fist as I opened my hand inside of him and stroked his guts. I know the feeling he was experiencing - I had the same reaction when Tommy Namisato gave me my first fisting in the sling.

"Ah'm goin' deepa, muscle-boy. Ah don' wanna hurtz you, so Ah'm gonna go slow. You tellz me when tah stop, 'kay? Ah ain't gonna damage Jamie's prop'ety."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir." I gave his mushroom head a kiss. I liked the fact that he was calling me 'Sir', but at this point - for all intents and purposes - we both were Jamie Reardon's property. I pulled out and gave my hand and arm a new coat of lube. I tucked my thumb under my fingers and pushed through his sphincter once more and began my journey upwards.

* * *

The fisting was a quieter affair than our back-alley fuckfest. But far more intense. Our eyes locked as the connection between us was amplified by the slow progress of my arm into his body. Both our cocks were iron-hard and swollen with lust as more and more of my forearm disappeared up his ass.

My elbow had just entered him when a grimace of pain skirled across his face. I stopped my progress and pulled back a bit.

"You good?"

"I dunno. I think so. Just had a real bad cramp." He gave me a tired grin. "Keep fisting me, Ray. It's okay. I can take it."

Time to stop - we both were exhausted.  "Ah thinkz you had enuff fo' yo' firs' fistin' frum a black man. You dunn good. You dunn reel good." I pulled my arm out of his ass and his legs dropped off my shoulders and dangled in front of the container he was sprawled on. My partner tiredly pushed himself up onto his elbows.

"How far did you go?"

"Up past mah elbow."

"Wow..." He slid back prone on the top of the waste container. "That was the best fuck of my life."

I helped him down off the dumpster and we proceeded to clean the cum and lube off our sweating bodies. Rummaging in the bag, I pulled out a large metal butt plug. It was torpedo-shaped with heavy-duty rubber tubing connecting the plug to a thick circular metal base. I poured a heavy coat of J-Lube onto the thick metal monster.

"Bend ovva... You needz dis up yo' chute..." Tony grunted as I pushed the plug into his ass. It looked good seeing that steel base covering his hole. He'd definitely be another perfect muscle-brutha.  I pulled on my shorts and gathered the materiel back into the backpack. I gave his ass a playful slap.

"Getz dressed, bruh. Letz go back up to da 'partment, cleanz up an' do summ chillaxin'. We kin order in Chinese an' d'en getz reddy fo' tonightz breedin' frenzy at da Greasetank..."

* * * 

As promised, I said I would start to write some stories about Charlie's adventures with his fellow officers (and others) as the sexually demanding black stud Ray-Ray Johnson. I decided the first one should be with the person closest to him - his partner Tony McClaren. Tony is perhaps the only person that the rookie cop can confide in completely. The idea of remaining a black man is voiced to him before anyone else.

Tony himself is still in his Initiation phase - the triple-cock ring is still locked onto him, but Jamie Reardon has given him some "time off" with his partner to indulge in whatever sordid activities Ray-Ray sees fit. 

Carreau's influence is definitely afoot during this phase of Ray's existence - the black hustler admits to himself that his behavior is something that is Charlie would be appalled with. This interaction isn't quite fully developed in my mind yet, but I can imagine that the demon prince is tempering the young policeman's soul - after a period of being hammered and pounded by incredible forces, it will emerge stronger and purer than before.

I was going to continue the story and describe the activities within the club, but I think this is enough for now. THAT will be another story!