The Captain's Toy (Bad Cops 2) Read online




  THE CAPTAIN’S TOY

  BAD COPS 2

  AMBER MARCH

  Text copyright © 2012 Amber March

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover art by Linda Atkinson.

  Author’s Note:

  This is fantasy. In reality, always practice safe sex.

  THE CAPTAIN’S TOY

  The squad room was bustling with the morning shift. Dean Carey eased into his seat and glowered at his partner Brock across the desk. The day had started with some early morning fun in the locker room barely ten minutes ago. Dean had been first in, minding his own business, when Brock had stalked in looking seriously pissed off about something. It seemed he’d had a late meeting with their captain the previous day that hadn’t gone well. Brock had been disciplined for extra-curricular activities that all too often impinged on his job. He hadn’t specified how their captain —the meanest son of a bitch Dean had ever worked with—had disciplined him, but Dean suspected he knew. The very idea had stirred him shamefully and Brock had noticed, seeing as Dean was only wearing the briefest pair of white briefs ever invented.

  His expression had darkened. “Does me being in the captain’s office get you off, Dean?” he demanded.

  Dean tried to stammer something, aware of Brock’s temper and what usually came with it. Brock had lunged forward, pinned him against the wall. “Well?”

  “No,” Dean tried to deny as his cock filled and his ass ached at Brock’s proximity. He was a fearful lover who took no prisoners. Either you were ready for him or you weren’t.

  “I don’t believe you,” Brock said. “I know you. A man like the captain is just what gets you off, isn’t it? Bet you love the idea of him dominating me.” He saw on Dean’s face that he’d hit the jackpot and he growled, dragged him away from the wall and threw him face first over a wooden bench.

  There, uncaring of discovery, he’d dragged Dean’s briefs down, spread him open and given him a good rimming as only Brock could do. Dean had shouted and whimpered and finally begged to be fucked as Brock’s talented tongue had opened him up. Brock, being contrary, had ignored his pleas. He’d released his beast of a cock from his pants and jerked off into the crotch of Dean’s briefs. When he’d come, he’d pulled the soiled underwear back up and made Dean get dressed.

  Dean was humiliated as intended. He shifted and squirmed in his chair with Brock’s cum in his ass crack and his groin. His cock was beyond hard at what Brock had done to him. Just when he thought his partner couldn’t go any further, Brock delivered. It was what Dean admired so much about him.

  The thing was though, much worse was to come.

  Brock smirked at him from across the desk. He licked his lips slowly, leaving them gleaming and Dean ground his teeth, desperate for release. He’d have to go and jerk off soon, there were no two ways about it. And then, being as kinky as Brock, perhaps he’d come in his underwear too and wear it all day for Brock’s admiration. He imagined peeling his briefs down and showing Brock the extra stain, still wet, the crotch heavy with their combined loads. He zoned out, his eyes no doubt going glassy before a voice brought him rudely back to reality.

  “Officer Carey, my office, now.”

  Dean’s head jerked up and he saw their captain striding across the room, his long legs eating up the distance. Brock’s smile widened. “Take your punishment like a man, Dean,” he said with a wink.

  Dean regarded him suspiciously. Why exactly did Brock think this was a punishment? Although by the law of averages, a visit to their captain’s office usually was a punishment, though Dean had so far escaped the kind of discipline dished out to Brock. Deep down if he was honest though, he wasn’t sure he wanted to escape it much longer.

  Dean glowered at his partner as he rose and crossed the room. Slipping into the captain’s office, he closed the door, noticing all the blinds were drawn. His stomach fluttered with nervous anticipation but his hard-on remained undiminished. He knew it showed in his tight uniform pants and he sat down hurriedly in front of the captain’s desk, crossing his hands over his crotch.

  Captain Xander Bayfield was a man you didn’t fuck with. Six feet three inches and with a body that strained his uniform even more than Brock’s, he was the very crème de la crème of manhood. His dark hair was buzz cut. His eyes were coal black and penetrating. His hands were large and powerful. He looked more like a thug than a high-ranking police officer and Dean wondered just which way he behaved in the bedroom. There was no denying he was magnetic though and outrageously attractive, clearly made for sin.

  The rumours about him were manifold. Dean didn’t believe for one minute that he would fuck any hole that was going. More like Xander was discerning and had a dozen specimens of both sexes lining up to take it from him at any one time. Dean’s cock only swelled harder at the thought that Brock had sampled this sublime man and he hadn’t. If his captain let him go without a thorough seeing-to, Dean was going to be most disappointed.

  “So,” his captain began, folding his menacing hands on the desk in front of him. “I’ve brought you in here for a little chat about your behaviour.”

  Dean swallowed. His stomach churned. He guessed he could be in real trouble here over a number of things. His transgressions were too many to name.

  “I had your partner in here too last night,” Xander continued.

  I just bet you did, Dean thought silently, keeping his hands cupped over his now-leaking erection.

  “What I wanted to talk to you about was the little matter of Janos Kovacs.”

  Dean stared at him. Fuck, the hot piece of ass he and Brock had been amusing themselves with for some time. A few days ago Janos had called 911 saying there was an intruder in the house. He had kept the pretence up through threats of punishment until Dean had stuck a finger in his ass and found him already lubed up and ready to go. That had been the most fun he had had in some time. Just the thought of it made his balls ache.

  How in hell did Xander know about it? He felt a blush creeping up from his shirt collar. He shifted in his seat, wet underwear clinging to all his most important areas.

  “I’ll be frank,” his captain said. “I want you to stop fucking him. He’s mine.”

  Dean gulped. Was this guy serious? He certainly looked fucking serious.

  “I-I didn’t realise, Sir,” he stammered.

  “Well now you do.” The captain rose swiftly to his feet. “When someone fucks something of mine, I kind of take it personally, do you understand?” he walked around his desk like a stalking panther and Dean nearly shrank back as Xander perched on the desk in front of him, legs spread. Dean’s gaze dipped to his groin, riveted on the startling bulge in his captain’s pants. Mother of God, he had never seen anything so exciting before as his boss hard for him.

  “Perhaps we can come to some kind of arrangement,” he said, feeling somewhat like he had gained the upper hand at seeing his captain’s desire for him. How wrong he was.

  Xander frowned. “Like what?”

  Dean shrugged. He leant back in his chair and moved his hands to show his raging cock straining the cloth of his pants in all its glory. “Like sharing him?”

  Xander’s eyes narrowed. They swept down Dean’s body to centre between his legs, gaze making him squirm with its heat. “Sharing him?” he echoed as though Dean had spoken a foreign language. “Do I look like a man who likes sharing?”

  Dean’s cockiness evaporated. He shook his head meekly.

  “Correct. I’m not. And you know what, your bolshy partner said the very same thing to me. He went one better and suggested the four of us get together some time. I presume he meant an orgy.” The captain looked disgusted.

  Dean thought he would explode at the ver
y thought. He wasn’t sure he could think of anything much hotter. Christ, he could just bet his captain would be a beast in the sack. It was too much however, for Xander to slap a ban on Janos. That just wasn’t possible. Dean had nowhere near finished his fun in that direction.

  “Then a compromise?” he suggested tentatively knowing the situation was getting out of hand.

  Xander arched a brow. “Such as?”

  Dean hesitated. “Me having him only when you say I can. Or… you watching me with him.”

  Xander regarded him. “You’re keen on him,” he said with distaste.

  Dean tried to look unconcerned. “He’s a good fuck.”

  His captain’s expression darkened even further. “Yes, he is. And as such, I need to punish you for taking what isn’t yours.” His hand rested on his muscular thigh, sliding up slowly towards his crotch.

  Dean trembled. He watched with huge eyes as Xander touched himself through his uniform pants, fingers outlining the bulge of his cock, rubbing over the head and teasing the shape out for Dean.

  “Come here,” said the captain. Dean stumbled to his feet. “On your knees.” Dean slid readily to the carpeted floor in surrender, looking up, waiting for further instruction. Other men had known the fine art of dominating Dean even though he usually took the lead. He knew Xander would do it effortlessly and more than that, Dean was eager for it.

  “Unfasten me,” Xander told him.

  Dean did as he was told, unbuckling the captain’s belt with unsteady fingers, popping open his button and sliding down his zip. His boss’s cock nearly sprang free from behind the thin confines of his tight boxer briefs.

  “Carry on,” Xander said meaningfully.

  Dean hesitantly reached into the captain’s pants. He trailed his fingers over the bulge of his boss’s prick, lingering on the head. Glancing up once more, he dipped his head and pressed his lips to the captain’s cock, mouthing it through the thin material of his underwear.

  Xander drew in his breath. He cupped the back of Dean’s head and eased him closer. Dean put his tongue out and licked up the captain’s shaft. He mouthed the head, suckling, wetting the material.

  Xander made a little satisfied sound. Then he plucked back the waistband of his boxer briefs and freed both his cock and balls, hauling out heavy equipment that made Dean salivate. His cock was bigger than Brock’s. It was proud and cut, his bush landscaped into neatness. His balls were shaved, sac tight and bulging. Dean dropped his head without needing to be asked.

  He sucked and licked at Xander’s stones before easing up his shaft, dragging his tongue to the tip and tasting a pearl drop running from the slit. The captain shifted on the desk and muttered something under his breath. He pushed Dean’s head down and Dean obediently took as much as he could, swallowing Xander inch by inch and sucking furiously. This blow job given under duress excited him way more than it should have done.

  A beeping sound issued from the captain’s uniform pocket. He dug in it and pulled his cell out and Dean stared up in disbelief as he started thumbing buttons. What the hell? The guy reads his texts while he’s getting blown? That son of a bitch! He raked Xander lightly with his teeth and received a pull of his hair and a stern look for his trouble. The captain put the phone back. He watched Dean sucking him for a few moments and then he said, “Brock tells me he left a nice present in your pants this morning.”

  Dean pulled slowly off Xander’s cock. He regarded him in astonishment. Brock was texting the captain? Just what the hell was going on here?

  “Do you want to tell me what it was?”

  Dean hesitated. “He… jerked off in my underwear.”

  Xander arched a brow, looking interested. “Did he now? You better show me.”

  Dean rose to his feet, no ideas about disobeying crossing his mind. He unbuckled his utility belt and placed it behind him on the chair. His skin tingled with excitement as he released his pants and shoved them down.

  Xander’s gaze centred on the wet, bulging material between his legs.

  “So he did. You look very wet.”

  “I am.”

  “You better take them down. It’s not good for your skin.”

  Dean peeled the wet briefs down.

  The captain leant forward. He pressed his finger into the wet crotch of the briefs. “That’s quite a load Brock gave you.” He sucked his finger and smacked his lips like it was the tastiest thing he’d sampled in a while. Xander eyed Dean’s rampant cock and aching balls. “Why so hard, Officer Carey? Do you like being punished?”

  “I-I don’t know.”

  “Hmm. It looks to me like you do.” He reached out and with one vicious swipe, slapped Dean’s cock.

  Dean howled; his hard-on bounced heavily, undiminished.

  Xander smirked. “Did Brock do anything else to you?”

  “Yes,” Dean said reluctantly.

  “Go on.”

  “He tongued my ass.”

  “I see. Did he leave it wet and open?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Like hell you don’t. Come here.” Xander grabbed Dean by the wrist and pulled him towards the desk. For a moment it seemed to him that his captain was about to lock him in an embrace. Which of course would be ludicrous for such a mean son of a bitch as Xander. Instead, he forced Dean over the edge, yanking his pants and briefs further down, kicking his ankles apart. “Show me.”

  With trembling hands, Dean spread his ass cheeks apart.

  “Still wet.” Xander leant over him. He pushed a finger into his mouth. “Suck.” Dean did so. A second later, Xander sheathed the finger in his backside.

  Dean groaned and squirmed.

  “Hmm, not bad.” The captain withdrew the digit. “I’d like to put something else in there.”

  Dean thrummed with excitement that Xander was about to ravage him with that impressive cock but it seemed the punishment would continue a while longer yet. The captain yanked open his desk drawer and Dean peered over the edge and got a good look at the contents.

  His boss had plenty of toys. Dildos, paddles, floggers, police issue handcuffs and crime scene tape, rope and lots and lots of lube.

  “Here.” He tossed some cuffs to Dean. “Cuff yourself.”

  Dean did as he was told, snapping cold steel around his wrists, feeling his intense vulnerability to his captain. A bit like Janos must have felt when Dean and Brock had forced him over his kitchen table, cuffed him and sodomised him with a nightstick. His cock dribbled at the memory of it. He wriggled his ass, virtually inviting Xander.

  Xander slapped his ass with one heavy palm and Dean flinched and hissed. “He said you liked to be spanked.”

  “He lied,” Dean ground out through his teeth.

  The captain snorted. “Sure he did.” He hefted a paddle inlaid with three heart shapes to leave a nice romantic pattern on the behind and Dean squeezed his eyes shut before it came down on his buttock.

  “Fuck.”

  Xander smoothed his palm over the flaming spot. Then he spanked Dean again on the same cheek. Dean jolted off the desk and his captain didn’t stop, merely started on the other cheek, spanking both buttocks in a flurry of slaps.

  Xander reached between Dean’s legs, fondled his sac a moment and then pulled his cock back to dangle loosely, heavy and wet. “What I like to see,” the captain said, “is a man leaking for me. While I spank you, I want to see your cock dribble on the floor. If there isn’t a wet patch after, I’m going to make you really sorry.”

  Dean groaned. While the threat was ominous, he didn’t doubt he could achieve it. The real test would be not to come while Xander was spanking him. He really didn’t want to exhibit such loss of control in front of his captain.

  He squirmed on the desk as Xander alternated between using his hands and the paddle. Dean’s cheeks flamed and stung and settled into the sort of glow that he always ended up finding, inevitably, and somewhat reluctantly, pleasurable.

  The captain scrabbled around in the drawer for s
omething else. “You’re not as wet, nor as open as I’d like. We’ll have to rectify that.” He showed Dean a small, pink butt plug with a wicked curve surely designed for one thing only. He writhed just looking at it. Xander grinned. “That’s something else Brock says. You turn into anybody’s slut when your prostate gets involved.”

  Dean reddened. Brock was going to have a lot to answer for. He watched with his ass clenching as the captain lubed up the plug, then he spread his legs wider and tried to relax as cold lube and flexible silicone touched him.

  “Fuck,” he scratched at the desk with desperate fingers as Xander sheathed the toy inside him.

  “That’s nice. Just one moment.”

  Dean looked over his shoulder and saw Xander with his cell out. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Taking photos of your plugged ass to jerk off over,” Xander said calmly, snapping pictures. “You got a problem with that?” He pressed on the rim of the butt plug and Dean whined as it nudged his prostate. His cock drooled, pearl drops running down the shaft. His captain scooped some of the fluid up and tasted. He pushed again on the toy and Dean groaned. His cock dripped as he knew it would, a long skein of white hanging poised above the ground.

  Xander dropped to his knees. He sucked greedily at the head of Dean’s swollen cock while he worked the plug free and then shoved it back in. He did this a number of times until Dean was so stimulated he was sure he would blow his load in his captain’s mouth. He suspected the punishment for that would be great. He moaned as Xander lashed his cock with his tongue then sucked at his balls. His captain withdrew the butt plug and tossed it aside. He pushed two fingers into Dean’s wet ass and cocked them, rubbing his prostate.

  Dean jerked on the desk. “Holy fuck.”

  Xander slapped his ass. “Slut. Your cock’s dripping on the floor like Niagara Falls.”

  Dean licked his lips. His ass ached shamefully for something more substantial than Xander’s fingers. He pressed back.