It hurt. It was dry, and even though the baton was smooth, as Officer Wetzel tried to work it into his virgin asshole, it felt like he was ripping his ass apart. No one in the circle around him showed any sympathy to his situation. The man next to him, hand on his shoulder, was slowly unbuttoning his uniform shirt, sliding one hot hand beneath it, exploring the officer’s chest and gut. The man sucking him off was bringing him closer to orgasm, no matter how hard he fought–it simply felt too good, and the man whispering in his ear wasn’t helping him focus on who he knew he was. A good man. A christian man. A man who loved his wife. A man who’d never felt a single desire for a man before in his life–but that was a lie, and the man knew, he knew it. The officer could remember, unbidden, all those desires like they were new again. That time he’d jacked off with his patrol in boy scouts. The boy who’d blown him at that Christian retreat. That…desire he felt, eveny time he was alone with his priest, and he could always tell the man felt the same, but God kept them so far apart, so far–
His hand twisted the baton in deeper, and he cried up–something between a scream and a moan, and he came, the man drinking down his cum, the men around them urging them on, vying for position. Whether the man was manipulating them too, or whether this was simply their natural state, he didn’t know, but every single one of them saw him not as a person, but as a hunk of meat, an object, a tool.
“They seem excited, don’t you think? I really should give them what they want–anything else would be rather cruel. Don’t worry–they’ll get tired eventually, and leave you alone for a few hours, but I don’t think you’ll be able to keep up that whole…straight act, not after we’ve shown you what you’re missing. Do you think that hag of yours will really look as good after you’ve learned how good it feels to have a cock in your ass?” The man smiled, his smoky breath hot against the officer’s ear. He stepped away, letting go of him for the first time, but the heat in his chest kept him there, kept him pushing the baton in deeper, the faggots closing in tighter around him.
“Please, don’t…don’t do this. I’m sorry, please.” he said, as a man in rubber, hooded, an unknown, stepped up close, pulling his uniform shirt apart the rest of the way, toying with the officer’s tender nipples, pressing their cocks together.
“Oh? Does someone want to make a deal?” the man said, leaning against the wall out of reach, watching the freaks close in around him. “Well, I suppose you can have an evening with them, or a weekend with me. It’s up to you, which you’d rather suffer.”
The rubber freak had one gloved hand on the top of Wetzel’s head, applying pressure, his other hand gripping his cock, eight inches, pierced in more places that the officer imagined possible, someone coming around the side, taking over the baton. His knees were buckling, he was…he was going to suck the man off. Then the next man too. Other’s would fuck him, and he wanted them to fuck him, he’d always wanted to know, he always wanted to know what it would be like to have a man inside him, and he’d confessed, to his priest, how he’d played with his hole while his wife was away, listening to the priest jack off while he told him, jacking off himself–“No, not them, please, not this. You can do what you want with me.”
The ring of men was pushed back by some strange force, allowing Officer Wetzel to take a breath, but it was filled with smoke, sulfur, brimstone, as the man, the demon, locked lips with him, pushing the smoke in deep, feeling the officer’s body melt against him. He was hot, so hot it felt like his skin might burn. Everywhere he touched, his skin ached with lust, his uniform caught fire and burned away, and the man turned the officer around, allowed him to brace himself against the wall. He’d become bigger, hairier, skin no longer any human tone, but a deep red, cock even larger than the rubber freaks had been, but Wetzel wanted it, he was begging for it. The demon hauled the baton from the officer’s hole and flung it away, hauling apart his ass cheeks with two hands, fingers tipped with claws, precum steaming as it dribbled from the tip of his cock. With a voice, halfway to a growl, the beast said, “You know, all it takes is one for the infection to happen, right?”
Before Wetzel could doubt his decision, the demon’s cock had forced itself into him. It burned, it was rough as sandpaper. He needed it, needed it deep inside him all the same, and he was bucking back as the beast fucked him. He felt a fever building in him, a horrific heat burning away the false faith he’d used, in desperation, to bind himself. His true self. Was he even human anymore? He was something different, that much he knew. There would be no coming back from this, now that he’d been seeded, and everything felt so…strange. Wrong. Different. The demon was pounding harder, the men still surrounding them, urging them onward. Could they see it for what it was? Could they see him changing? Or were they just victims in all of this? Did they know what was walking among them? What was inside of him?
The demon came, and after that, for a time, nothing mattered. Nothing even seemed to exist. It was white, or so black he know longer knew what light was. He was aware of his body existing. He could feel the cock slide out of him, and the heat began to flow out of him, exhaustion replacing it, and he fell to his knees, facing the wall. Who was he? What was he? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answers to either.
Bracken's Corner 