By Cutieboy90

Jake Hilforde’s head felt heavy. The 31 year old felt disoriented, there was no recognizable sound, and everything was dark, like he was underwater, and he had the worst migraine he’d ever had. As the rookie cop started to come back to his senses, he realized he was completely immobilized; he was tied to a chair, his hands behind him, and his legs too!

True to his training, the rookie stayed calm, taking in his surroundings, and figuring out what was going on. He remembered leaving the station after his shift, heading to a house at the edge of suburbia. Why again? No Jake, think. The reason’ll come back.. What else happened? He’d gotten to the house, where he was greeted by a man, not much older than himself. What the hell was his name again? Trevor? Tyler? Something with a T, anyway. They sat down in the kitchen and chatted. The house had felt warm, despite the hum and breeze of an A/C. Wait, how did that work? How could he feel so hot, in an A/C’d room? He flexed his aching shoulders. Damn, he’d clearly been tied up for a long while. How could he forget. He’d felt so warm, that he’d passed out, so his host put him in a chair. Which he’d promptly been cuffed to… With his own fucking cuffs!

Jake growled, and struggled in frustration, the rattle of the chains echoing in the room. Fuck, what was the use? These were after all, his own police-issued cuffs, and legcuffs because he’d been a good boy scout and “being prepared” had been engrained in his mind. But that good old motto wasn’t serving him so well now, was it? And his host had taken the spare key Jake kept in his pocket just for situations like this.

Jake huffed through the cloth tied between his teeth. He was very uncomfortable, his uniform was soaked in his sweat, and his shoulders were sore. It was still so warm! And all he could do was rattle his cuffs, chew on the gag, and sit there like a suspect brought for questioning. Here he was, being held by a madman, and no one know where he was, or to even come looking for him!

The lights were dim, but the headache was making it very hard for Hilforde to keep his eyes open and adjust. Peeking through his eyelashes, he could see he was still in the kitchen he’d been in when he passed out. Such a nice kitchen it was too, marble countertops and splashguards, gleaming stainless steel appliances, a spotless black linoleum floor, and an island over which hung a rack of stainless steel prep bowls and equipment. There was a bar too, beyond which appeared to be another room. Beautiful place. Too bad its owner was a psycho.

Suddenly, the lights turned on. “Aaagh!” Jake shut his eyes, recoiling from the brightness. The sound of deliberately slow, soft footsteps grew near.

“I see you’re awake, Officer Hilforde.” The voice was casual, light, and neutral. Not warm and friendly, yet not cold and uncaring. Jake squinted up at the man. It was the same nutcase who’d greeted him, knocked him out, and cuffed him to this chair. Travis? Timmy? Like it mattered? He wasn’t much older than Jake, and not as built but clearly athletic. His face was neutral, even more so than his voice.

“Now Officer, I know you have a lot of questions. Most of which will be answered by the time you leave. And yes, you will leave here alive and physically intact, so don’t you worry about that. Also, you won’t remember any of this.” Hilforde felt himself sweating even more. Was this supposed to be reassuring? Because it wasn’t. He glared defiantly at his captor.

“Yeah yeah, tough guy, if looks could kill, I’d be dead thrice by now. Luckily for both of us, this is typical and healthy.” Jake growled again, baring his teeth over the gag. His captor still stood there, so nonchalantly, so neutrally, it was maddening. If he wasn’t cuffed like this, he’d tear this guy apart. Whatever his name was, Thomas, Tallis, and why was he still wondering!?

“Lemmphh Mmm mGmmph!” Jake’s captor raised an eyebrow. He crossed his arms, with an amused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Is that the best you’ve got Hilforde?” He shook his head. “Come on, Officer. You can do better than that! Do you even use the gym?” A hint of mockery began to slide in to the formerly neutral voice tone. “Most of the guys come through their training, lifting heavier, running faster, pushing to get that competitive edge. They strut down the sidewalk with their shiny new badge, giving smiles at the girls, and showing off their big guns. Well, I’m not a blond, curvy chick, and your ‘big guns’ are not impressive so far.”

Jake’s training to keep calm when antagonized had been thorough. He sat still, glaring at the man before him, who just shook his head before stooping to be at eye level with the bound cop.

“I see, you’re taking the high road here, like they trained you to do. Such an obedient cop you are! And all that training is still fresh in your mind, I mean you only graduated a month ago. This was your first week on the job, and you’re doing everything perfectly by the book to impress your fellow officers. You wrote more tickets this week than all your colleagues combined, aren’t you great!” Jake felt his blood start to boil. It was true, he was proud of his job, and his work.

“I think they should have a plaque with your name on it, displayed right by the front entrance. It’ll say “Jake Hilforde, best pig on the force!”

“Fuccc MPhhh, Mph fphhmmgh’n KIMMPH mmm!!” Now he struggled in his cuffs. He’d break the chair if he had to.

“Yeah, that’s the spirit! Come on pig, break out of those cuffs, and tear me to pieces.” The neutral nameless man hardly looked concerned, as Jake continued to thrash and snarl, the chair creaking, the chains rattling, until he exhausted himself and slumped back panting heavily. Tristan. This fuckwad’s name was Tristan.

Tristan calmly walked over to the sink, and dampened a cloth, with which he gently patted Jake’s forehead. “You rookies all lose it with that line.” He spoke almost sweetly, the mocking, patronizing tone gone. His fingers opened Jake’s collar, mopping the cloth at his neck. “The academy teaches the basics, and does a pretty good job. And that’s where I come in. For the next three days I will be completing what the academy can’t teach. And then, Jakey, then you’ll have a shot at being the best pig on the force.”

Jake hardly registered Tristan’s words. He was exhausted, and the cool damp cloth was so soothing. He closed his eyes, and relaxed. He felt his shirt being undone, and his neck and chest being rubbed. It had been so hot, and the cold water was so refreshing. He was so tired and sore, the caressing motions of the cloth felt so nice.. He didn’t even care it was all being done by a guy.

“Wake up, pig.” Tristan’s voice was firm, but gentle. Jake opened his eyes. He must have fallen asleep. He was still cuffed to the chair in the kitchen, and he still felt a bit warmer than he should have. His captor was wearing sweatpants, so it couldn’t have been that hot. The quiet hum of the A/C was constant, and Jake’s eyes felt dry. Why was he still so hot?

“Hungry?” Tristan was standing by a coffee machine, sipping from a mug. The smell of fresh coffee finally registered in Jake’s brain. His stomach growled, he could use some sustenance… Jake nodded.

Tristan smiled. “Cream and sugar.” It was a statement, not a question. Jake watched as Tristan poured a new mug, and poured a dollop of heavy cream out of a container from the fridge. A refreshing wave of cool air teased at Jake’s face, when the door of the fridge opened and shut again, but it was gone so quickly. He strained against the cuffs. His wrists were killing him, and his legs were cramped. The legcuffs were pulling his feet back under the chair, and as he struggled he’d discovered were attached to the handcuffs, essentially hogtying him to the chair. He was sore..

The gag was removed from between his teeth, and much to his humiliation, the mug was held up to his mouth for him to drink. The coffee smelled amazing, but tasted even better. Jake sighed contentedly after the first sip. It was good enough to make him forget his situation.

“Damn, that’s good coffee. What’s your secret?”

Tristan smiled. “I own a small coffee bean plantation. The results, as you can taste, are unmatched.”

Jake took another sip. “And… That’s not heavy cream either. Did you put yogurt in there? Not that I’m complaining, it’s really good! Just I’d never have thought of it.”

“Ah yes, I prefer creme fraiche. Keeps things interesting, and tastes good. I bet you’re also hungry.. You were when you arrived.”

He had forgotten, but now that he was awake, Jake did remember now that he’d been promised donuts. Everyone at the station had been raving about these “special donuts” and there were never any left when Jake got around. So he got the information out of Chief Officer Sharp, who’d given him the address “of the very generous man who makes them every week for us.” Now thinking about donuts, Jake was craving them.

Looking over, there on the counter next to the coffee maker, was a rack of freshly baked donuts.

“Ah yes…” Tristan surely was drawing this out. “You probably like donuts, huh? Well, those ones are cooling and still need to be glazed. However…” He opened a cabinet and pulled out a large cardboard delivery case, and set it on the counter next to the cuffed rookie. “These are all ready!”

Hilforde’s mouth was watering, but now he was drooling, as Tristan opened the case, revealing eight dozen beautifully glazed donuts. Half of them had chocolate glaze. Coffee and donuts. Every cop’s weakness.. Jake couldn’t even think as Tristan got a plate, and a napkin.

“I’ve been making these for years, from scratch of course. I’ve never met a cop who didn’t love these. See, they’re low in sugar, and low in fat, so you can eat as many as you want and not have to worry about the calories. Here, try one.” A chocolate-glazed donut was held in front of Jake’s mouth.

Yes. Jake moaned as he sank his teeth into it. Yes, this was the best donut he’d ever tasted. And if he really didn’t have to worry about the calories. It was no wonder the guys at the station were crazy about them. And none of them were flabby, out of shape, or chubby…

“Fuck yes…” He took another bite. It was absolute perfection. Edible perfection. Lost in the enjoyment, the rookie cop didn’t notice he’d finished the donut, and was now on his third. He’d even forgotten about the heat in the room, so focussed he’d become on savoring each bite.

“Would you like some more coffee?” Tristan’s question snapped Hilforde out of his trance.

“N-no, thank you…” Jake whined. “Pleas-se, p-please another donut..”

Tristan raised an eyebrow. “You just ate an entire dozen. You sure you don’t want some coffee?”

Jake blinked. “A dozen?” He couldn’t believe it. There was an empty level in the case, and as he looked down at himself he could see the crumbs on his lap. But they were so good. “No, please.. More donuts.”

An amused smile crossed Tristan’s face. “Very well.” He held another chocolate-glazed donut up for Jake. Then another. And another. By the end of the second dozen, Jake was getting thirsty. He paused as Tristan reached over for the last one, swallowing before speaking.

“I t-think I could-MMMPHH!!” Before he could get the words out, Tristan had stuffed the donut in his mouth. Jake coughed, but naturally continued to chew and swallow. The rest of the donut was shoved in his mouth. He struggled to swallow, trying not to choke or inhale. He watched as Tristan reached for another dozen. No, he didn’t want any more. His mouth was dry, and now he wanted coffee! Hilforde hadn’t finished swallowing the last donut when the next one was crammed down his throat.

“Quit squealing. You’ll get your donuts, pig. Heh, you really do like these I see. You can’t. Fucking. Stop. After. A. Few. Dozen.” Each word was emphasised by another donut forcefully jammed down the helpless officer’s gullet. “You’re soaked with sweat, red in the face, noisy, messy, and can’t. Stop. Eating! You hate being called a pig, but you look like one right now.”

“Ackkk!” Jake was gagging. He coughed and sputtered, and his eyes watered, as he watched the donuts in the case disappear. He couldn’t swallow any more! His stomach was full! He struggled again with his cuffs, trying desperately to get away.

His mouth felt like it was packed with sponges. Jake tried to spit the donut out, but there was always a hand in the way, pushing another one down.

The cardboard case, with the eight dozen capacity, was empty. It had been full when it was opened, but now Jake was full. The rookie cop was miserable, his body was sore from being hogcuffed to a chair, he was covered with crumbs, and frosting was smeared on his face. He was still catching his breath and coughing on occasion. The gag had been retied in his mouth, and he’d been left alone to rest. The lingering smell of coffee teased at his senses. Though stuffed, Jake’s aching mouth was dry as a bone. He would’ve done anything for a drink.

Speaking of bones and despite his situation, Jake was horny as hell. Cuffed as he was, he couldn’t attend to the raging boner he had, his impressive 8.5 by 7 inch man tool. It was stuck in his boxer briefs, and desperately wanting to be stuck somewhere else. “Mmmmmmmgh…!” Jake groaned in frustration, bucking slightly. He’d been so busy getting used to his new job, he hadn’t jerked off all week. He normally jerked himself everyday, sometimes more than once if there’d been any cute chicks at the gym, or the club. Though he’d been single for several years, Jake didn’t have any shortage of dates or hookups. He was good looking after all.

It was true, the rookie cop was a fine physical specimen with broad shoulders, beefy biceps, powerful thighs, slim waist, and an ass to die for. With his short black hair, and masculine features, he frequently was mistaken for a military guy, which the girls really seemed to dig. Now that he had a shiny badge, and a uniform, he’d been sure he’d get lots of ‘bad girls’ to ‘take downtown.’ Yet here he was, a week in, and he was horny as hell, cuffed to a chair, with eight dozen donuts in his gut, being held captive by a crazy dude.

Officer Hilforde jumped as Tristan stepped into sight. His footsteps were so quiet, and the cop had been too busy thinking about his dick.

“Woah, take it easy there, pig. It’s just me.” Tristan’s tone sounded scripted, too non-chalant to be genuine. Jake growled quietly through his gag. “It’s your lucky day you know. I have to glaze this batch of donuts, and I’m willing to bet that you’re still hungry.”

Jake shook his head, and struggled somewhat weakly. He was sore, and trying very hard to make his boner go down. The last he needed was for this creepy psychopath to think he was enjoying all this humiliation. Still he watched with a mixture of fear and anticipation as Tristan brought the cooled batch over to the island, got out a whisk, an icing spatula, a pastry bag, and finally removed a large container of clearish syrupy glaze from the fridge. All the officer could do was watch, his salivary glands going crazy as the sugary lemony hints reached his nose. Dammit, why was he such a slut for donuts?

His thoughts once again got interrupted, as Tristan pulled a chair up next to him, and sat down. He began talking, a monologue not unlike the ones supervillains give explaining their brilliant evil schemes to captured heroes.. “You don’t understand any of this now, but this will all make sense soon…” Blah blah blah, a bunch of insane sounding stuff about questions being answered even though he wouldn’t remember anything, and reassurances that he would leave alive and intact, and… Now this guy was removing his duty belt. And unbuckling his belt. WOAH, THIS GUY WAS UNZIPPING HIS PANTS!

“NNnNGGHH!! FMMPHH’NN MPH!!!” Jake thrashed in his restraints with renewed vigor as his junk was handled. He was still hard as a rock, but this was seriously messed up.

Tristan however, seemed oblivious to the officer’s struggles, continuing his spiel as he molested Jake’s cock and hefty balls. “This always happens though. Of course I want you to feel comfortable, but it never makes any difference. Legally though, I have to say all this stuff, surely you understand. Or at least, you will.” A pause. “You’ve got a nice one, Jakey. This will be good.” Finally, a genuine touch of humanity could be seen on Tristan’s face. Even if it was lustful, he was truly impressed. And his hand did feel good…

Jake fought the pleasure. He was straight, he was tied up, and horny though he may be, he didn’t want some maniacal gay guy stroking his dick. This was wrong, but it did feel nice… No, he was ridiculously pent up, and of course a gay dude would know how to give a good handjob. This was fucked, but it was a losing battle. He flexed in his cuffs, huffed in his gag, arched his back, and trembled as his manly needs took priority..

“FMMMPGH!!” The stroking stopped as Jake climaxed. “MMMPH? MMgh NGHPh!?” He opened his eyes to implore his captor to keep stroking, but was shocked at the sight of his cock aimed at the container. He’d just been jacked off into the donut glaze! He snapped his gaze back to Tristan, too stunned to even ask. Tristan let go of his cock, and returned a sympathetic look.

“Sorry about the ruined orgasm. You’ll thank me later, trust me on that..”

Jake was speechless. Watching in horrified fascination as his massive load was whisked into the glaze, and after a squeeze of lemon juice, carefully poured over the donuts on the counter. He felt sick as another bowl was placed between his legs, and Tristan’s expert hand began to work his still-hard cock back towards climax. This time, the defeated cop just sat there, staring as his tool was stroked off again into the bowl. Watching mesmerized as his ejaculate was whipped into a thick paste with some powdered sugar and vanilla extract. This new icing was spooned into the pastry bag, and piped, finishing the donuts with an attractive zigzag pattern. When he’d used up the icing, Tristan returned the glaze to the fridge, and placed the equipment in the dishwasher. He sensually licked his fingers, his eyes closing for a moment as he savored the cummy glaze.

The rookie cop blinked, and looked back down at his cock. He was still hard! The two ruined orgams had somehow left him hornier than he had been before. And for what? What had he just done?

Tristan packed the fresh batch into boxes, loaded into the big cardboard carrying case. He’d kept a couple donuts out, one of which he picked up and held up to Jake’s nose. Jake couldn’t help but inhale, it smelled like a donut, like the eight dozen he’d eaten earlier. His gag was pulled from his mouth, and the sinful bakery treat held in front of his mouth. Jake hesitated, and looked up at his captor.

“Please no,” his voice was shaky. “That’s disgusting.”

Tristan gently petted the back of the officer’s head. “You’ll like it. You liked the other ones.”

“What?”

“Cop cum is my secret ingredient. That’s how I can make a donut that’s so high in protein, yet still taste like a buttery, sugary morsel of goodness. It’s it the glaze, baked into the cake, and is the primary component of the creamer I use. That was not creme fraiche I put in your coffee earlier!” Tristan chuckled. “You see, rookie, all of this is part of your training. I redesigned law enforcement, and this is how. Did you notice how close your fellow officers are? A successful team is built on trust. These guys have each others backs, like no one else. You were sent here for me to finish your training and initiation. You’ve already consumed the essence of your male coworkers, and for the next few days will have some mild hypnosis. It will make you a better officer, a better person. You won’t remember any of this, but you will learn everything you need to know to serve the community and be a good representative of the police department. Remember at the academy, how many thousand times did they mention the success of this county’s department? My program is the reason. And as the newest member of my team…” Jake’s donut was held against his lips. “You must complete the initiation process.”

Jake’s head was spinning. This was too much to take in. But it made some sense, and explained the behavior he’d noticed at the academy, and at the station. Afterall, all the guys loved these donuts, and it was his own chief who’d sent him here. He gulped.

“Will this turn me gay?”

Tristan chuckled. “No, Jakey. The program promotes trust, closeness, comfort around your fellow officers. Life-long bromances are commonplace, but this hypnosis can’t change sexual orientation.”

“What happens next? I eat this donut, and stare at a spiral for the next three days, then I just show up at the station and I’m a perfect cop?”

“Basically, yes. But there’s no spirals, as I found them to be ineffective and very hard on the system. You’ll listen to an audio file which will take care of everything psychologically. I’ll hook you up with a milking tube which will collect your ejaculate while you’re here. The donuts will keep you nourished for the next several days, and help your metabolism adjust. You’re in fine shape, but when you wake up from you’ll find yourself even stronger. You’ll have a new uniform, you’ll feel rested, and you’ll get to enjoy your first real week on the force. Adding your cum to the glaze helps you and everyone else know that you’re part of the team. It’ll ease your integration. By the time you go back, you’ll all be able to identify each other by smell alone.”

Jake thought. He was hesitant, it sounded pretty hokey. Interesting for sure, kind of cool, maybe even fun, but hokey nonetheless.

“Don’t worry. It sounds scarier than it actually is. And this won’t taste as bad as you think it will.” Somehow, Tristan’s voice sounded warmer, friendlier, less neutral than before.

Jake took a deep breath. He did want the donut. He opened his mouth and took a long slow bite of the treat that would change his career and his life.

“That’s a good pig, Jakey. You’ll be a good cop.”

Metal would like to thank the autuor, Cutieboy90, for this story, which is being re-posted as an encore. If you like it, be sure to leave a comment below.