They were having another crazy party across the cul-de-sac, those fucking faggots over there, I fucking hated them. So yeah, I called the cops on them, and I watched the officer arrive from my window and go up to the door, figuring everything would be settled, but a few minutes later the party started up again, louder than before, and I heard a knock on my door. I got up and answered it, and found the cop on the other side of the door–except he wasn’t quite the same cop. He was chuffing on a massive cigar, and looked to be quite a bit burlier and hairy than I’d thought he’d been across the street. “Sir, I’ve been receiving reports that you’re a complete faggot pervert in hiding–I’m here you administer your punishment,” the cop said, and shoved me back into the house, and slammed the door shut behind him.
“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not–” I tried to say, but the officer took the cigar from his mouth and shoved it into my mouth, plugging it shut, and then ripped my shirt off my body, and did the same with my pants. I tried to pull the cigar from my mouth, but it had somehow grown so large that it stretched my jaw to the limit, my teeth digging into the tobacco, forcing me to draw almost all of my breath as smoke. I immediately felt woozy, and while I tried to fight the cop off, he shoved me over onto my hands and knees and started working his nightstick into my ass.
Fuck, my cock was so hard, knowing this hot cop was violating me in my own living room, and he started regaling me with a litany of all of my perverse acts that he was punishing me for. They started innocently enough, some public indecency and drunkeness where I’d jacked off and urinated in public, but slowly grew more sinister. How I’d gotten lewd and obscene tattoos all over my body. How I’d cruise cubs in public spaces before begging them to come home, abuse me and fuck my lights out. How I went from gay bar to gay bar, keeling in the bathrooms as a urinal and cumdump, until my belly was taut and bloated with beer piss. How I could take two fists up my loose cunt, and had to keep it plugged at all time. How I was obsessed with sex, leather and men, unable to think about anything else, forced to earn money by selling my mouth and ass in back alleys and at house parties like my hot neighbors liked to throw most nights.
The cop finished me off with his ten inch cock, and I begged him to fuck me rough and hard, and he was even nice enough to fill my sloppy hole with a load of piss after he came, and plugged me up with the four inch diameter plug I wore almost constantly now. He deemed me sufficiently punished, dropped a couple wrinkled twenties by my head and left, and I hefted myself up, discarding the butt of my huge cigar and lighting another one, admiring my freaky, hairy and tattooed body in a mirror, before throwing on some leather gear and hurrying across the street, feeling the officer’s piss leaking out my hole and down my legs as I went, eager to join in with the party I couldn’t believe I was missing.