Cuffed (Mr. Skrrt & TNT)

[Twisted_iN_Tux]

​

Route 17, Just Outside Sterling Forest State Park, New York - A Random Saturday Evening in the Winter of 2019

Cruising along Route 17 in his brand new, cheery-red Ferrari, William Dalgliesh was feeling pretty pleased with himself on this particular Saturday evening.

Having just departed from a black tie, charity event that he single-handedly conceived of, coordinated, and hosted, he couldn't help himself from boasting about the quarter of a million dollars the function had managed to raise in just under three hours flat. "No lie, Hunter," he called out to his cell phone, which was safely secured in its hands-free holder on the glowing dashboard before him, "we raised a little over two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, in three hours! That's practically unheard of for this type of organization."

"Damn, Will, that's really something," the deep voice on the other end of the line replied, only after tossing out a long whistle to show their admiration for such an impressive sum. "You should be proud of yourself."

"Uh, yeah, why do you think I'm calling everyone I know, just to rub it...I mean, share my good fortune?" he half-joked, as his bright-green eyes darted between the speedometer before him and the long stretch of painfully quite highway ahead of him, a stretch that was basically tempting him to put his foot on the gas so that he could test out his new wheels. Why go only ten over the speed limit when you could easily go twenty or even thirty?

Yeah. Why the hell not? he thought as he began to apply pressure to the pedal with his gold-tipped, leather dress boot.

"You're such an ass," the voice on the cell blurted, before letting a chuckle slip.

"Yeah, but I'm a successful ass, who just brought in a lot of money," William replied before reaching up with his gloved hand to disengage the call, using the button on his leather-encased steering wheel to do so.

Whether Hunter was finished speaking with him or not, he was done with Hunter. The guy was nice enough, he was, but he wasn't exactly in William's league. Actually, the only reason he spoke to the young entrepreneur was to get him to invest in one of his numerous business ventures, which there seemed to be an ever-growing number of. Not that there was anything wrong with him wanting to stick his finger in as many pots as possible, but at some point, it was all going to catch up with him. If not now, certainly soon enough, or so his alleged friends usually told him.

They're just jealous, was what he often told himself, and what he was even telling himself right now, as he roared down the road, feeling more than a little untouchable, completely unaware that he had just flown by an officer of the law, who sat lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce at just the right moment.

 

[Mr. Skrrt]

The night had been boring for Gerald Hayes, and that tended to be the case unless the moon was full on a Friday night. As a traffic officer staking out his stretch of road, he just spent nights watching the blur of headlights go by until one did enough to warrant putting down the coffee and donuts, so to speak... If he was being honest, sometimes it literally did come down to putting the donuts down to chase someone. That night happened to be a donut night, as the crumbs in his mustache could attest. It was always snitching on him, that thing. It had a bad habit of pulling up into a sneer when he was supposed to be frowning, or when he came across a pulled-over person he'd like to do more to than just write a ticket.

Some people deserved more than just a ticket, after all. Everyone thinks of traffic laws of boring at best or unnecessary at worst. More than once he'd heard people justify speeding by saying that the Germans don't have speed limits on that Autobahn of theirs. Sure, but they sure weren't in Germany, were they. Some people just didn't learn- especially not when they could just pay it off and not suffer for it. Annoying. Those were the people he liked to take justice into his own hand with... But he was daydreaming, which he couldn't afford to do. What if something happened?

... Boring. Nothing was happening. Traffic was flowing by with only the occasional speeder going by, and they weren't going fast enough for it to be worth it... Officer Hayes wasn't interested, anyway. He didn't like to pull people over unless he got a feeling from them that pulling them out of their car would be enjoyable, or if someone was truly blazing by--

A blur of red tore right past him, forcing Hayes to bolt up in his seat and nearly spill his coffee. What a maniac! That's the kind of thing that got Gerald's blood pumping. This was a chance to really put someone in their place. From what glimpse he got of the car, it was a nice one. Meaning it was a rich person, probably (hopefully!) a man, probably spoiled rotten. Didn't care about other people's safety, didn't think laws applied to them... Oh, that was the ideal target. The sirens were the only thing faster than Gerald's cruiser on the road. Traffic slowed down and spread out to avoid his furious speed, parting like a Red Sea of steel. It was decently busy for the hour too, which made it more satisfying to pick out and pull up behind the speeding red Ferrari. With how close Gerald was getting to it, it could not be more clear which car was supposed to pull over.

 

[Twisted_iN_Tux]

Roaring down the highway at least twenty-five miles over the speed limit, William didn't slow down when the road became slightly congested. No, instead, he simply skirted around the trucks and minivans that looked like they were standing still as he raced by.

Where'd they come from? he thought, a little surprised by the sudden uptick in traffic.

Flooring it, he was now nothing but a red blur to them, as he cut left, then right, then left again so that he could remain in the passing lane for as long as possible. Who cared that it was only meant to be used for passing? If he wanted to eat up Route 17, he would do as he damn well pleased, even if it meant flashing his high beams or blasting his horn, just to clear a path before him, which he also did, quite liberally, when there wasn't an easy way around. At this point in the night, he pretty much owned the road. Nobody could touch him, nobody would even dare to...

"Fuck me!" William suddenly barked, with a punch to the steering wheel, as he caught sight of the cop's red and blue lights flashing in his rearview mirror. Fuck, fuck, fuck, was all he could repeatedly think as he pondered, for a heartbeat, making a run for it. However, even though that was certainly a tempting option, even he knew better than to toy with the law. At this point, the officer's dash cam probably caught an image of his plate - now that he was practically up William's ass - so even if he did manage to get away, they would still be able to track him down.

You got me, pig, you got me, he thought, as he glanced up at the mirror, flipping it the middle finger just because he felt like it, not caring if the officer or cam could see it.

"This better be quick," he muttered, with a roll of his eyes, as he began to slow down, shifting gears as smoothly as he could, so that he didn't run the risk of seizing up the engine or, worse still, losing complete control. Going from zero to ninety was easy, but abruptly dropping from the high-end of the speedometer to the lowest, in just under thirty seconds, was something else. He had to handle the sudden shift with kid gloves or run the risk of burning something out or flipping the damn thing over.

Finally feeling comfortable enough to settle into a spot on the side of the road, William threw the sleek sportscar into park, undid his seatbelt, and reached across to the glove compartment where he kept his registration. Once that was in his gloved hand, he used his other to withdraw his money clip from an interior pocket of his muscle-hugging, dinner jacket so that he could pluck his license from it.

Ready to do business, he tapped the control for the window next to him and readied himself for the officer's arrival, all the while thinking to himself, Please don't be one of those asinine pigs with a chip on their shoulder and a baton lodged deep where the sun doesn't shine.

 

[Mr. Skrrt]

Gerald was something of a pig, as his reputation could attest, but did he have a chip on his shoulder as he sat in his cruiser and waited to be sure the Ferrari had stopped? ... He did. He couldn't help but smirk viciously at himself in the rear view and brush his thick, dark-colored mustache down with his thumb and pointer. At least he could say his baton was where it was supposed to be, which was at his hip. Nobody could say he wasn't dressed and kitted out properly for his job, but one could reasonably allege that maybe he needed to get a uniform one size bigger. The thing wasn't supposed to be clinging onto the muscles of his arms like that or to his calves, but what was anybody going to do about it? Be mad?

Speaking of, mad is what he expected the man in the parked car to be. These types always were. They just couldn't believe anybody would have the balls to hold them accountable for once, but that's what made this part of the job so enjoyable...

The door to his cruiser shut behind Gerald and he started to approach the Ferrari with all the things he needed, ranging from a pen and the papers he'd need to give a ticket to a pair of handcuffs dangling from his belt. It was dark that night. Extremely dark. If not for the constant stream of cars racing by and their near-blinding headlights, it would be too dark to see how the officer's gait was maybe just a little too enthusiastic. After all, most officers said that traffic stops were terrifying just because it was impossible to know what would be waiting for them in the vehicle, but Gerald didn't feel that way. He knew the people who used this road very well by then, thanks to the years of doing what he did on that one section of highway.

He tapped his finger on the glass of the Ferrari's driver-side window, smirking hard enough to crack a lesser man's face. It only took one look at the angry guy at the driver's seat to know that this was going to be fun for at least one of them... Hopefully both. The kind of man to throw up the bird at an officer was bound to be a handful.

 

[Twisted_iN_Tux]

Casually watching in the side mirror as the officer exited his patrol car and sauntered towards the Ferrari, William tried to assess the guy's demeanor.

Obviously, with it being night, it was hard to make out his expression, although, as other vehicles zipped by, they did illuminate his face just long enough for William to make out his sizable mustache that dominated his upper lip. The thing was, well, a bit obscene, harkening back to the kind of facial hair that porn stars once wore in the late seventies and early eighties, not that William knew from first-hand experience, but he'd scene enough memes referencing such a thing. As for that saunter, it did seem more than a little pronounced, meaning he was either a cocky bastard or he enjoyed his job a bit too much. Perhaps both?

William would soon find out.

Hitting the control for the window, which he had been fingering for the last minute or so, William waited just long enough for it to completely slide down before he dangled his arm through the opening with both of his documents in hand. "Evening officer," he was surprisingly quick to greet him, attempting to keep his deep voice as calm and as respectful as he could, even though he had the urge to bitch and moan. "Here ya go," he then offered as he waved the documents in the cold night air. "Oh, and, yeah. I'm well aware I was speeding," he was also quick to offer, hopefully trimming off a bit of time by openly acknowledging his wrongdoing.

Now just be a good little piggy and write me up my ticket, he thought, as he took in the officer's surprisingly tight uniform, the crotch of which was on full display, given the very low profile of the Ferrari.

 

[Mr. Skrrt]

Gerald chuckled darkly, twitching his considerable mustache in the process of doing so. This guy -who was named William, according to his license- really did think he was above everyone else, didn't he? The officer read through the offered documents with a joyfully bemused expression that was usually reserved for reading the kind of texts at work that could get him fired. He turned his eyes to William and leaned his weight against the car, resting the palm of one hand on the roof. "You knew you were speeding?" he asked, just on the verge of out right laughing. "Then why'd you do it? Be one thing if you just had your foot heavy on the gas, y'know, but why speed intentionally? Daddy wouldn't buy you a race car?"

Was it unprofessional to talk down to someone he'd just pulled over? Yep. Was it dangerous? For lesser officers, sure. Did he get a kick out of it anyway? Very much so, yep. If smugness had a smell, Gerald would reek of it. All the power was in his hands, he knew, and all he needed to get to the fun part of this was to get some sort of reaction out of William. Some sort of outburst- didn't matter how big or how justified. All the officer needed was an excuse to really sink his teeth into the guy... Literally, perhaps.

The officer licked his lips for a moment, openly eyeing the man in the driver's seat in a manner decidedly not fit for being in public. While writing some nonsense down in his papers for the sake of looking busy, he leaned even further into the car and crossed his dirty black boots at the ankle, and said, mockingly, "You must have been looking to be pulled over. That right?"

 

[Twisted_iN_Tux]

So asshole it is, William thought to himself as the officer proceeded to prolong the process by first lingering on his documents for a bit longer than was needed, before questioning his judgement, only to end his opening remarks with an insult, implying that he was a spoiled brat.

Really? Was that necessary?

Just because the guy had a badge pinned to his chest and a gun on his hip didn't mean he had the freedom to treat others like they were beneath him when they obviously weren't. William had a fairly good understanding of his rights and he also knew that he didn't have to put up with this shit, especially in this day and age where, on an almost weekly basis, countless officers found themselves under a microscope for their questionable behavior. Did this guy want to find himself on the receiving end of an investigation? Because William was willing to go there, without any hesitation.

"Well, officer," he began his retort, purposefully speaking slow, as if to imply that he would have a problem following him, "wouldn't you prefer motorists to be aware of what they're doing behind the wheel? Seems more careless to me to unwittingly speed than to purposefully do so, knowing that you have full control over the car, instead of treating it like a toy." Taking a breath, he then added, "As for my well-connected father, he's always been exceedingly generous to a good number of people, myself included. As a matter of fact, over the years, I believe he's made several sizable donations to a variety of local law enforcement agencies, possibly even yours..."

"Officer Hayes," he made certain to stress as he leaned close enough to read his tag.

"It would be a shame if something or someone got in the way of that."

Sitting back now with a smug expression, William let his veiled threat - that which spoke of a powerful, affluent family who weren't opposed to fucking with the law - hang in the night air between them; however, it either didn't register or the pig simply didn't care, because the look he was dishing out in return was far from worried and more in line with, well, something a bit more lascivious.

Jesus. What the hell is up with this guy? William wondered, as he began to feel a bit uncomfortable under his questionable gaze that now hovered a bit more closely as he leaned in.

"I guess I figured you'd be off eating donuts and drinking coffee, as you guys are prone to do," he then replied, essentially ignoring the officer's ridiculous question, before motioning directly at his mustache and the crumbs that remained nestled in it. "You, uh, got a little something stuck in there."

 

[Mr. Skrrt]

The officer chuckled, darkly. He chuckled like someone had just died in front of him, if such a thing could be funny. At what? Just about everything, really. Everything this guy thought he was getting away with and why. Really, did he just argue that speeding in the Ferrari like he had been was anything less than treating it like a toy? Did he think a powerful man, like his father apparently was, would be so quick to have his son's reckless, entitled behavior dragged out into the public eye? The scandal it would be if a his father stopped funding the police as soon as his own son was exposed to be petulant shit...

It set the colony of butterflies living in Gerald's stomach into a joyous frenzy.

Officer Hayes liked his mustache clean, holding his gaze against William's the whole time. Nobody would be blamed for assuming that, judging by Hayes' way of staring, he was hungry for something a bit more meaty and substantive than donuts just then. The officer chuckled again, that time shifting his stance so that one arm was propped against the roof of the vehicle and that the other was at his hip, and that one foot was standing closer to the car than the other. It was almost too cold to be wasting so much time on this guy, and the threat of rain was suddenly much more credible as clouds rolled in from nowhere as if following the traffic, but Gerald didn't care. William's problem wasn't that he was speed, but that he was a jerk. Plain and simple. Gerald didn't tolerate those well.

"Get out the car," he said, firmly and with some barely concealed mirth. Officer-ing wasn't supposed to be fun, probably, but that hadn't hampered his enjoyment so far. "Out of the car, and hand me your keys. Stand with your back to me, alright? Yeah, yeah. I know that you know your rights and all... I'll read 'em to you if I have to, but don't make that be the case, alright? You know what this is."

Or at least, he hoped William did. Didn't matter if he knew what sort of things happened to criminals and little shits on that open highway, but if the absolutely lecherous wink that accompanied Gerald's orders -and they were orders- didn't tip him off, nothing would.

 

[Twisted_iN_Tux]

Why the fuck is he laughing? William thought to himself, as he sat forward in his seat and glanced up at the officer, catching his unwavering and still very questionable gaze, which he was unable to look away from, no matter how hard he tried. This guy isn't just an asshole, he then thought, as he watched the man lick his curled upper lip and then his bush of a mustache beyond, he's a fucking psycho.

Feeling like he was now under a microscope - a microscope that had the ability to strip him naked, that is, because that's the sort of look Officer Hayes was giving him - William found himself actually squirming in his seat. Never in his life had he had another man look at him this way. Had he been hit on by guys? Sure. He'd had his fair share of run-ins with gay guys who thought they had a chance with him, but he was usually able to shut them down with a single glance or, if they couldn't take a hint, a derogatory remark or two. However, he couldn't see either one of those things working here.

This officer was well beyond that, and it actually began to worry William.

That being said, he didn't feel uncomfortable enough at this point to inquire about his tickets - which he safely assumed he was getting a number of at this point - but as he was about to do just that, the officer instructed him to step out of his car. Wait? What? Why? his mind quickly questioned as he reflexively reached for the handle of the door next to him, only to stop himself short as the officer updated his instructions by telling him to hand over his keys. What the fuck? he then thought as he killed the car and withdrew them from the ignition, suddenly feeling compelled to cooperate, just to get this over with as soon as possible.

And to not agitate the guy any more than he already had.

Doing as he was told, William slid out of the car, shut the door, and then handed his keys over, taking care not to step too far to the left, seeing that there were cars speeding by just a few feet from where they both stood on the side of the road; however, as he did all of this, as he really tried to play nice, the officer continued to speak, instructing him to not only stand with his back to him, but to not expect his rights to actually be read to him.

Apparently he just wasn't in the mood.

On the verge of protesting this, because now this was moving well beyond the officer just being creepy, William found his words stuck in his throat as the guy made it quite clear by his final statement and, more specifically, his inappropriate wink - What the hell? - that something else was currently happening here - and would continue to be happening here - other than him getting just a ticket or two.

What the fuck should I do? was his very next thought, as his bright green eyes darted between the nearby traffic and the officer, his mind scrambling to fully understand what exactly that something would be. And while he waited for the officer to make his next move, unwittingly turning his back to him as he was told to do, William found himself awkwardly fussing with his long, silk scarf and then the polished buttons that ran along the front of his sumptuous, full-length, fur coat that sat heavy upon his shoulders. With the scarf tucked in, he proceeded to work the four buttons until the coat was closed around his muscular, tuxedo-clad form, instead of flapping wildly in the wind.

Jesus. The officer wouldn't dare do something beyond reproach, not here, right out in the open, with people passing by. Would he? Fuck. Well, would he?!

But as William cast a quick glance over his broad shoulder, as the wind kicked up and tousled his thick, shoulder-length, jet-black hair, it was painfully obvious from the look on the man's face and from the way that he was standing, commandingly so, in his knee-high leather boots and matching leather jacket, that Officer Hayes was going to do whatever the hell he wanted to, for this was his stretch of road, his territory, his domain.

Fuck me, was all William could then think as he quickly returned his gaze forward and dropped his gloved hands to his side. Fuck. Me.

Little did he know just how appropriate those two little words were in the moment, and would come to be, even more so, later on in the night.

 

[Mr. Skrrt]

Hayes cracked his knuckles in that threatening way men in leather were blessed with, where it became very clear very quickly who was in charge.

In almost any other scenario, William would be the one calling the shots. The guy was wealthy -from birth, Hayes assumed- and he had the swagger that, well, only men in expensive, commanding formal wear were blessed with. It took a certain kind of power to wear something meant to signify your status and then to also make it accentuate your body like William did... Though maybe he would regret that soon.

"Have to pat everyone down for weapons nowadays," said the officer as he took one oversized step towards the speeder. It wasn't enough just to be close enough to reach William, no. Hayes already was about that close from the moment he had the guy step out of the car. The goal that he very quickly realized was to have his built, powerful chest just about pressed against William's back- close enough to tickle the rich man's neck with his mustache. And that wasn't enough either, because that left William some wiggle room. Couldn't have that. Another gentle press later and he had William stuck between a hard place and a Ferrari.

It didn't end there either. Hayes had promised to pat William down, and that was what he wanted to do.

All things considered, it started innocently enough- Just some aggressive patting of William's sides. As it trailed down to his waist, however, it only got less and less professional. Since he knew William was unarmed, he had no problem just forgetting about the lie entirely and slipping his hands under William's coat from the bottom up, and feeling the textures of his clothing under his calloused, newly gloveless hands. There was no gentleness in his touch, nor was there any sort of shame. Hayes was well and truly willing and able to treat William like not just a criminal with which he could do as he pleased, but as, essentially, something he owned. It was the difference between handling one's own car versus someone else's.

As he was exploring William's stomach and working to undo buttons blindly, Hayes was kissing William's neck like a lover. Not a kind, loving lover, but a lover all the same. He even spoke softly enough to be confused for someone who cared. "Did you get all dressed up for me?" he asked. "No... No, I don't think you did. I do think you put this getup all on to take it off though, didn't you? Nobody wears stuff like this for fun, baby. You wanted attention."

What kind of attention? Well, the instinctual pressing of Hayes' hips against William's from behind would give a clue to that, as would the mumbled moans being left against William's skin whenever the officer's mustache got close enough again.

 

[Twisted_iN_Tux]

Barely able to hear the officer moving behind him as cars zipped by on the nearby road, William found himself actually overreacting with a sudden flash of his bright eyes and a tensing of his muscular form as the man spoke to him from just a few inches away, instead of a few feet, which was where he had been standing a moment before. Weapons? Really? Did he really think William was packing or was this...

What the hell?! he suddenly thought, with a subtle grunt, as the officer moved in so close behind him that William was forced to take a step forward, practically pinning him to the rear of his vehicle. To steady himself, so that he didn't end up sprawled across the highly polished surface of his brand new Ferrari, he did place his gloved hands upon the sleek sportscar, just as the officer began to run his hands up and down along the sides of his body.

Taking a deep breath, William initially told himself that he just needed to remain calm, that this would be over soon enough. This was just standard practice, nothing out of the ordinary. Right? However, just as he put that thought in his head, it evaporated just as quickly, as the officer crouched behind him and began to feel him up, under his coat, groping at his solid calves and then getting as far as the backs of his strong thighs before giving up. Thankfully, his full-length coat managed to - quite literally - save his ass from being manhandled too.

But that didn't stop the persistent officer.

Standing once more, just as close as before, if not even closer, he slid his hands around William's waist and began to randomly pop open two of the polished buttons that ran along the front of his coat so that he could slide his paws inside, and as he did this he...he...

"S-Sir...," William suddenly sputtered as he felt the bristle of the man's bushy mustache brush against the side of his neck just before his lips made full contact with his skin. "SIR," he managed a bit more loudly as the man continued to molest him with his mouth, all the while groping around at whatever he could get his grubby hands on.

Then the words came, just a second or so after his lips drifted away from the now spit slick surface of William's neck, and as they did, as each one was uttered, they chilled him to his very core.

No, he immediately thought to himself, with a shake of his head. NO! he repeated as the man continued to suggest that William was out looking for trouble, that he was practically begging to be mistreated like this. And who better than him to provide William with what he wanted?

Jesus. Fuck NO! his mind then shouted as he let slip an audible gasp, loud enough to be heard over the nearby traffic, as the officer began to - WHAT THE FUCK!? - hump his backside!

Had the vent in his coat been more generous, William was certain that he would've felt the full force of the officer's throbbing manhood as it was rubbed all over his ass. That being said, it was certainly pronounced enough that no matter how many layers were currently between them, its sizable presence was made known, along with the twisted intentions of the officer.

This...this can't be happening! Not here and - FUCK - certainly not to me!

"I think you're mistaken, sir," he managed to finally utter, in as firm a voice as he could muster, as he started to push himself away from the rear of the car, which only served to thrust his backside against the officer's powerful body and, more specifically, his ass against the man's burgeoning groin. "Sadly mistaken," he then repeated, through clenched teeth, as he continued to push, feeling as if he were coming up against a brick wall, instead of man made of flesh and bone.

 

[Mr. Skrrt]

The officer guffawed right into William's ear, just above the stretch of neck where he had been leaving and would continue to leave bristly kisses. Hayes wasn't a bad guy, after all. He wanted William to enjoy this! Plenty of people sped by him just in hopes of getting pulled over and having this exact thing happen to them. Or at least, that's what they told him after.

William didn't seem like he knew this would happen, though. Still, he was begging for it, practically. Even if the rich boy didn't know he was egging the officer on with his laughable protests, the low grunting coming from Hayes' mouth as he generously ran the length of his clothed member against the offered (or, in this case, "offered") ass would have been enough for most. The affable officer that approached the Ferrari before with a swaggering step was still there, still standing in the uniform that seemed custom-built to give the great muscles of his arms and chest the room to breath, and for his ample manhood to bulge out prominently where William could feel it. At full hardness already, he had no difficulty filling out the front of his pants.

"I think you're the one mistaken here," taunted Hayes, as he continued to rut against the other man. "Don't make me call for backup, baby boy. Don't make me break out the handcuffs... Just enjoy yourself, heh. If you work with me, you'll enjoy yourself plenty. A man like you, dressed like that, deserves this. Don't you think everyone deserves a good fucking to keep them loose?"

And then it was right back to teasing at the sensitive flesh of William's neck with his lips, and then with the gentle bite of his teeth. He hadn't lied about wanting the guy to deserve this in the slightest, which was why he was so adamant about pinning him to the back of the Ferrari and making him feel the girth he was in for. Lucky boy, he was. Problem was that he was still dressed, and under several extra layers compared to a normal person's normal attire at that. Rectifying that proved simple. All Hayes had to do was tear the boy out of his outfit.

If he had cooperated with the officer, his coat wouldn't be ripping then. It wouldn't be hemorrhaging buttons as Hayes' hands forcefully worked their way up the front of William's chests, and it wouldn't be tearing violently down the middle. Even over the screech of traffic the sound of fabric ripping -and ripping beyond repair- was unmistakable. At the rate the officer was going, the coat would be lucky to remain in one piece at all.

 

[Twisted_iN_Tux]

What the fuck was even happening here? How the hell did this officer think that it was perfectly acceptable to treat a citizen like this? And an affluent one at that! William had been speeding for god's sake, not committing some heinous crime that warranted such manhandling or, worse still, such a blatant abuse of power. Because that's exactly what this was, wasn't it? An absolute abuse of this man's power.

So it seemed that this officer thought himself above the very law he was suppose to be enforcing and, apparently, William was just a toy to be played with, to be pushed around and used as he saw fit, and furthermore, there was absolutely nothing he could do about it but...? But willingly play along?

Fuck this!

William knew his rights, if not as a citizen, than as another human being. He didn't deserve to be treated like this and he certainly wasn't against stating exactly that, no matter who this guy was or thought he was. Yet, as the officer continued to thrust against him, continued to grind his cloth-covered manhood into William's respectively covered, muscular ass, he started making threats as well, threats that made it sound like things would only get worse, a lot worse, if he didn't fully cooperate.

Jesus. What the hell have I gotten myself into? Enjoy this? Really? No fucking way!

William enjoying it, whatever "it" was - because it was highly unlikely that the guy would actually follow through with what he was implying with his obscene gestures and words - wasn't going to be happening anytime soon. William never had, nor would he ever have, any interest in being with another man. Not even during his years at college - when most others experimented with someone of the same sex - did he have even an inkling to do the same, not even for a moment. But this guy didn't seem to really care if William was going to be a willing participant or not. It certainly wasn't stopping him from continuing, from thrusting and grinding into his backside, and from molesting and - What the fuck? - nibbling on his neck!

Really? Is this really happening?

However, as the seconds that felt more like minutes passed and the officer's highly inappropriate actions intensified, it became quite clear that this was happening, and was going to continue to happen, for as long as the guy wanted it to. It didn't seem to matter who William was or, more shockingly so, where they currently were. Officer Hayes was taking what he wanted and nothing was going to come between him and it. Not the law, not the simple fact that they were out in public, and certainly not William's exquisite attire.

So lost in scrambling to come to terms with what was happening to him, in being repulsed by how he was being mistreated, William missed the initial gesture of the guy's paws slipping around his waist once more. However, as the officer quickly slid his hands up towards William's pecs, in a haphazard manner, groping around and then gripping at his fur, there was no missing the tugging sensation and then the popping of the coat's two still secured buttons, as they came undone and then tore free from the front of the plush garment.

What the hell?!

Letting slip a gasp as this happened, as the two highly polished studs flew through the air and clattered against the rear window of his Ferrari, it would be a disgusted groan that would soon follow as the unmistakable sound of stitches snapping filled the night air!

Almost as if it were a staged attack, the officer's timing couldn't have been more impeccable, for just as the nearby traffic died down for several heartbeats, momentarily taking the roar of tires upon pavement with it, those same two paws that had just splayed the front of William's coat wide open were now being used to violently mistreat the vent in the rear. And once the well-crafted spot had come undone, the already sizable slit was made two, if not three times longer - cutting its way through the center of the thick fur and heavy, satin lining below, nearly to the middle of William's back - as the officer cruelly tugged and yanked, clearly not caring in the least!

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" the stunned stud barked, knowing full well what the luxurious coat had cost him, a small fortune even for someone as wealthy as him. "FUCKING STOP!" he then found himself growling, as he made every effort to steady himself by gripping the back of his car with his gloved hands as the officer took full advantage of the now overly generous opening, grinding more fiercely than before, the coarse, regulation cloth of his uniform rubbing roughly against the very fine fabric of William's hand-tailored, dress pants!

"I SAID STOP, ASSHOLE!" he then shouted, as he once again made an effort to push the guy off of him, and failed miserably. "FUCKING STOP!" he repeated as he bucked hard, inwardly amazed that this guy had such a strong hold over his own well-built body.

 

[Mr. Skrrt]

It was obnoxious, William's screaming. Who did he think he was to be making a big deal out of this; to be resentful of what he had coming? If he didn't want to be the recipient of this nontraditional justice, well, he shouldn't have broken the law and then acted like it didn't apply to him. He really had made himself a target even before he decided to dress like he had, where the shape of his gorgeous ass was barely even covered up by his pants, and where the angles of Herculean chest were practically begging to be let out from his too-tight suit. Hell, now that William's coat was gone, the officer half expected the man's nipples to burst through the fabric of his shirt at any moment.

And on the subject of William's ass, it was taking up more and more space in Hayes' brain as more and more of his blood migrated south. He was practically already fucking the guy, was the officer, and the more William writhed and protested the more Hayes had to compensate by pushing him down into the rear of his car. It was a vicious cycle, that. If he weren't already rocking on full power, the poor criminal would only be making him harder as he tried to wiggle away. Surely he knew what he was doing. If not, he must have been stupid. It was so obvious that the best solution, for both parties, was for the guy to just go with the flow and take the offered cock like a good boy. He could already feel the thing practically pulsating against his entrance already through all the fabric, so why not just go for it? He was as bratty as a bitch in heat already.

"If you don't want me to rip up your stuff, start stripping." That was a simple enough statement that Hayes barked into the boy's ear, was it not? William didn't want his clothing ruined, and Hayes didn't want him in clothing. The solution was obvious! "I can already feel your ass against my dick," he rumbled, clearly taking immense joy from the situation already. "Imagine how much better it'll feel without all this crap in the way."

As if to demonstrate exactly what crap he was talking about, the officer left one hand to snake around the other man's chest as a means of holding him in place while the other found itself groping William's crotch- or more specifically, his crotch, and the belt right above it. It was a trivial matter to forcefully, violently undo the clasps on the thing and yank it through all the loops. He paused to remark on how nice it was, and how expensive it looked, just before throwing it over his shoulder, where it rolled down into the grass and the mud... And he didn't stop there. Now it was time to unzip the criminal's pants, all while taunting him at a distance close enough that his lips and tongue could touch the inside of his ear. "Up to you if these pants of yours make it out of this in one piece, babe."

 

[Twisted_iN_Tux]

Bucking wildly and cursing up a storm as Hayes continued to thrust hard against his ass - the officer not caring in the least that a good number of cars were once again speeding by them - William had actually lost track of where the guy's grubby hands were; however, before long, it became painfully obvious that they had remained firmly in place upon the back of his full-length coat as he started wildly yanking on the expensive garment like a horse's rein. Not hearing the continued ripping as clearly as before because of the renewed traffic, William certainly felt the destruction happening just the same, as more and more of the evening's cold air invaded his tuxedo-clad body, higher and higher up the center of his strong back. The fur was being ripped away from his body, taking its delicious warmth with it. Then the defining moment came, when the officer officially reduced his fifteen-thousand dollar coat to useless rags, as he jerked upon the ruined Versace fur until he not only managed to rip right through the well-crafted, thick collar, but literally split the entire thing in two!

Fuck. No.

Momentarily struck silent as the substantial halves slipped away from his broad shoulders and then slid down his powerful arms, only to pile up in the dirt at his feet, William did let out another long groan as the thrusting became more violent and the man's obscene erection became more obvious. Clearly this officer of the law - this maniac! - was willing to do whatever the hell he needed to do to get to William's ass, even if it meant ruining every last inch of his pristine formal attire. But then an unexpected offer came, one that he wished had come sooner, before his coat was ruined beyond repair. That being said, it still sounded absolutely absurd to William's ears, once uttered, and it took him several heartbeats to actually process the insane offer.

Strip? Here? Really?

But that's exactly what Hayes was offering, until he wasn't, for as soon as the offer came, it seemed to be withdrawn as one of his paws quickly came up to hold William in place as his other roughly undid his belt and then proceeded to jerk it free, popping one of the hand-sewn, satin loops along the way. Then in yet another unexpected turn, the officer actually commented favorably on the quality of the imported, leather accessory, giving William the slightest bit of hope that he wasn't a complete monster, that he actually meant what he had said, that William could just remove his exquisite attire without it being destroyed. Not that he wanted to do that, not in the least, but it was better than walking away in rags or, worse still, naked. But then just like the coat before it, the belt was treated like a piece of unwanted trash, carelessly tossed away without any regard for its value.

What the fuck?!

On the verge of protesting the apparent reneging of his offer, it was actually made once more as Hayes now licked, and kissed, and nibbled on the very ear the words were uttered into. Wanting to believe the monster, even if only for a minute, it appeared to be some sort of twisted joke as his hand immediately went for William's zipper, nearly as fast as it had gone for the belt above. Wanting to stop him from causing any more damage - because being left without his pants wasn't an option William wanted to even think about - he acted fast by bringing his gloved hands up to push the officer's single hand away, but instead of stopping him, he only made matters worse.

Unable to tell how good of a grip Hayes had on the closure, as William fought to salvage his slacks - as well as his dignity - he only managed to rend them open, breaking the zipper and ripping the crotch beyond as he stupidly overreacted and yanked way too hard! In a flash the pants were trashed, and as soon as both men let go, the satin-lined fabric quickly slithered down William's long legs and pooled around his boot-encased ankles, exposing his well-defined, thick thighs, his satin and mesh, designer underwear, and even the tops of his silk socks that accentuated his sculpted calves.

For fuck's sake!

Mortified, William's initial response would've been to pull them back up, even though they were ruined, but because he was still being held in place by Hayes, the officer's hand still firmly groping his ample pec, he was unable to do that. Thankfully, the tail of his brilliant white dress shirt, along with the ebony hem of his double-breasted, double-vented tuxedo jacket managed to cover at least the upper half of his muscular, mesh-encased ass; however, regretfully so, William already knew that this would be a short-lived win - if it could even be considered that - as the officer launched into the next part of his unwanted assault.

 

[Mr. Skrrt]

In a shocking twist, the officer actually afforded the criminal some space. Not enough space to escape, of course, and not so much space that William's chest was free of the insistent hand groping the hard, defined pectorals, but space enough that William might well miss the warmth on his legs that Hayes was providing. After all, William was now woefully underdressed for the cool night!

Hayes was offering something of a breather- a chance to think while the officer used his dirty, mud-caked shoes to press down on the ruined pants while William was directed to lift his legs one at a time so that they could be free of the mess pooled around the ankles. Unlike the previous garments, the pants might truly then be more dirty -and they were plenty dirty now- than they were destroyed. Those rips could have been much worse had William resisted.

And then, a grubby hand snaked back around William's chest, worming it's fingers through the man's shirt buttons. In a sinister tone, the officer made a "deal" with William: "Strip yourself bare, and nothing else has to be ruined. Promise... But if you disobey me, something's getting torn, baby boy. Got it?" To make that point, Hayes snapped a button of the dress shirt free, where it was going to be lost forever into the grass.

"I'll even give you a reach around if you say, 'yes sir' to me. How's that sound?"

 

[Twisted_iN_Tux]

Reluctantly stepping out of his torn trousers, William couldn't help but feel exceedingly vulnerable, not to mention absolutely ridiculous, as, from the waist down, he now stood in nothing more than his skin-tight briefs, his silk socks, and his leather, dress boots.

This was absurd! How was this even happening to him and, more importantly, why?! What had he done to deserve such outright abuse? And now the officer was doing him a favor - a fucking favor!? - by giving him the chance, yet again, to strip himself naked? What the fuck?! This guy was insane! Actually, this whole situation was insane and it needed to end now; however, once again, instead of really giving William the chance to take him up on his offer, Hayes went ahead and helped himself, ripping one of the pearl buttons from his dress shirt. One hard tug and it was gone, which caused his shirt to flap open right below the curve of his pecs.

"Jesus. Fucking. Christ," he found himself muttering after the officer offered to stroke him off, but only if he called him sir. "That sounds like a load of crap," he then spat over his shoulder, obviously in no mood to play along as he was instructed to do. "A load of crap," he repeated as he took a deep breath and inwardly prayed that someone, anyone would stop to help him, for clearly something fucked up was going on here.