By lthr_jock
Sergeant Davis got in the passenger seat of the patrol car and looked across at the constable driving. PC Fletcher was 24 years old, new to the force and still very much the rookie on the team. Despite his 6ft height and muscular build, he was softly spoken and Davis was accompanying him to help get him used to some of the work he would need to be doing. Davis was an old hand at this – at 40 years old he had been on the force for 15 years and had experienced almost everything the job could throw at him. He was over 6ft tall himself and packed with muscle from his years of training at the gym. His hair was black with flecks of grey and he sported a heavy moustache.
“Right, Fletcher, where’s our first job?”
“Well, Boss, I got a statement to take from that robbery yesterday. Once that’s done, we can go make an arrest attempt.”
“Good man, let’s get that sorted and then we can see what’s going on out there.”
Fletcher gingerly drove the patrol car out of the station and they set off for his appointment. Davis settled into the seat and casually kept an eye on Fletcher’s driving. As he did, his phone went. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and accepted the call. A burst of white noise came out of the phone and the screen was filled with a hypnotic spiral. A week ago, he would have turned the phone off, now he stared at the screen with his eyes glazing over and his mouth dropping open. The background of the white noise began to hiss words on a barely audible level. Davis nodded to the words, his mouth hanging open till a dribble of drool came out of it.
Fletcher looked across and grinned. He leant over and closed his Sergeant’s mouth. He made a quick call on the vehicle radio.
“This is Fletcher. Sgt Davis and I are going to be committed for the rest of the shift. No radio or phone contact please.”
When he got the acknowledgement, he grinned again and drove the car in the direction of the docks. His driving was more confident, he was sat more upright in the driving seat and his eye gleamed with a feral intensity. Fletcher drove to a warehouse right by the waterfront and drove around the back. The garage opened automatically as he approached and he drove into the darkness.
He pulled up and got out. Opening the sergeant’s door, he took the phone from his limp hand and turned it off.
“Can you hear me, Davis?”
“Yesss”
“Good. Tell me who is in charge.”
“Masster Fletcher iss”
“Good. You want to obey, don’t you?”
“Yesss,” Davis nodded, his big meaty hands stroking his cock through his uniform.
Fletcher grinned. His long sessions of hypnosis with the Sergeant were paying fruit.
“Good boi, sergeant. Right here are your orders. Go into the locker room and find something to wear. You know what you like to wear, don’t you?”
Davis nodded.
“Good. Then come through to the gym – it’s time for your workout.”
Davis mechanically got out of the car and walked through a small, rusty door to a locker room. The room had open lockers down both wall, each one packed with clothing – leather, rubber, lycra, spandex, skinhead gear, biker suits – in fact, everything a well dressed fetishist could imagine. Davis considered and then started to strip his uniform off.
Soon his 6-foot-2 muscled build was naked, his slabs of muscle covered by a layer of hair. His 7-inch cock flopped lazily between his legs backed up by a pair of low hanging testicles. He stepped forward and pulled out a red rubber wrestling leotard and slipped into it. He added a pair of red wrestling boots as well and then pulled out a black rubber jogging suit to go with it. As he shook it open, he smiled at the word “PIG” stencilled across the back in yellow letters. He put the jogging suit on and looked at himself in the room’s stained mirror. He stroked the bulge his cock was making in the suit and grinned. He then headed into the gym.
Davis knew what was expected of him. He went over to the water cooler and took a handful of the pills that were laid for him there. He gulped them down with water and then started on the treadmill. After half an hour, he was dripping with sweat, so stripped off the rubber jogging suit and continued in his wrestling leotard. After another half an hour he stopped, got some water and headed across to the weights.
After 15 minutes, Fletcher joined him. He was wearing his usual workout uniform of underarmour top and shorts. He handed Davis a protein shake which was laced with the drug he had been feeding Davis for the last 3 weeks.
“Good workout, boi. Now, did you order the stuff I told you to get?!
Davis nodded. “Yes Sir. But it hasn’t arrived yet.”
“No problems, boi.” Davis grinned. He was looking forward to seeing how Davis would react to the purchases he had made.
“Right boi, you want to make me happy don’t you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good.” He gave Davis a business card. “Tonight at 9pm go to this address. Wear something from the locker room. Ask for Dejan. Do everything he tells you to.”
Davis nodded and headed out to the locker room. He showered and put his uniform back on. Following his orders, he selected a leather version of his uniform from a locker and put it into a tote bag. He then headed outside and met up with Fletcher, who was back in uniform. As they drove off, Fletcher said, “Cop boi, release.”
Davis’ eyes cleared, and he looked around.
“Good job, Fletcher.” He checked his watch. “Damn, where did the day go? Let’s head back to the precinct and sort ourselves out for end of shift.”
Click for Part 2
Metal would like to thank the author, lthr_jock, for allowing this story to be posted here. If you enjoyed it be sure to leave a comment in the comments section!
This story is erotic gay fiction and is for mature audiences only. It may contain supernatural themes, sex scenes, violence, coarse language, drug use, and other adult themes.
NOTE: This story originally appeared on the Eckie site. It is being re-posted here with the original author’s permission.
Copyright © 2015 and 2017 by lthrjock.
All rights reserved. This story may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.
