Keith, in his mind, was desperately trying to make his body stop, but he couldn’t. He’d never topped another person in his life, but all his body wanted to do now was fuck–and fuck rough. The pig under him had gotten used to the assault and was starting to enjoy himself, so he redoubled his force, plowing him harder until the pig squealed in pain…and hearing that, he felt so fucking good, it nearly made him shoot. “What…the fuck did you fucking do to me!” he shouted at Rod, his voice deep and gruff, completely alien to the one he’d known his whole life.
“Don’t be mad at me, fucker–it was Oliver, who did this to you.” Rod got down and stared Keith right in the eyes, “You wanna be mad at anyone, then be mad at him.”
Something…changed in him. The rage he was feeling flared higher, and Keith felt all of it focused on Oliver. He tried to fight it and push back–he loved Oliver! Sure, their sexual chemistry was a bit of a struggle, given that they both preferred to bottom, but he’d thought they’d been working through it, right?
Rod just chuckled, “Oh no, Keith, no, no, no. Oliver never really wanted you. That’s why you’re here. He wants a top, a brutal top, a mean fucker who only wants to plow him into next week. He doesn’t care about who you are–he just wants the fuck. All this? All this pain? He doesn’t care as long as he gets what he wants. Well guess what Keith? You don’t have to care either. In fact, I’d prefer it if you didn’t.”
There was a flicker in Rod’s eyes, and a moment later, Keith screamed again. His mind–it felt like it was on fire–or at least parts of it were. All of his memories of Oliver, all of the times they’d shared together, all of them were aflame–but it wasn’t just memories–it was his compassion and his love. He could feel it shrinking and withering to ash, and the pain was horrific but soon he didn’t even care. He enjoyed it, he reveled in it–he gripped the pig by one hip, hard enough to bruise, and drove in deeper still, his other hand planted on the back of the pig’s head shoving his face into the filthy, pissdamp floor of the bathroom. “How’s that feel, you fucking piece of shit?” he screamed, and his cock exploded, filling the pig’s ass to the brim, but he kept fucking until he went soft, and only then did he pull out–body shaking with some caustic mix of pain, exhaustion and exhilaration.
Who…was he now? He remembered so little, but he did know one thing, and remember one person. Oliver–he remembered him, and he hated him. Hated him, because it was his fault that he’d just been put through all of that pain and suffering…and Keith knew he was going to have to pay for what he did.
“That’s a good boy,” Rod said, giving Keith a pat on the shoulder, “Now, why don’t we get you deputized?”
Rod’s hand settled on his shoulder, and underneath his palm, something like a shadow spread out and down Keith’s body, down his chest and back. He braced himself for more pain, but this didn’t hurt–it was warm and supple–he first thought it was some kind of rubber, but he touched it with a finger, and discovered that he somehow being coated in leather. It covered his entire body, aside from his neck and head, in less than a minute, a smooth, body hugging layer–and once it had coated him, he felt the entire body suit shift and morph around him. It split at the waist, becoming a shirt and pants, and then split again at his knees, the leather around his feet shaping into a pair of perfectly shined leather motorcycle boots. The pants were tight against his muscles, with a red stripe down the side, his huge cock bulging in the crotch and running down one leg. The leather…adjusted to it, and it felt so comfortable, like his cock always laid there, in a stretched out pocket of his pants. The shirt took a bit longer to form, but the details were more intricate–lapels and pockets, the sleeves shortening, exposing his massive biceps and forearms, hands encased by the tightest fitting gloves he’d ever felt, like they were painted on his hands.
Rod gave a flourish with his hand, and a cap appeared in his hand–and a silver steel badge. He placed the police cap on Keith’s head, and pinned the badge to his chest, and then gave him a smoky kiss. “Beautiful–now, you have a suspect to interrogate, right officer?”
“Y-Yes sir,” Keith said.
“Good fucker–work him over nice and proper. Figure out what sort of shit he pulled here yesterday. But whatever he did, don’t bring it back here! Just…deal with it as best you can. Probably some knick knack or something–it surprised me, but wasn’t that strong.”
Keith nodded, and a few minutes later he was out on the sidewalk, cool in his leathers despite the hot night. He found his motorcycle and rode off into the dark, heading for Oliver’s place, and more than eager give the man who’d done this to him a bit of payback.
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