The Key to the Game

979

Will Hutch accept a kinky proposition to get himself out of an embarrassing situation?

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Hutch sidled out of the Police Department car park, and walked a few blocks to the place he’d left his car. It had felt a lot safer leaving it here, and he was glad it was going dark. He didn’t want anyone noticing what he was doing. He glanced up and down the street, then pulled a thin piece of bent wire out of his pocket, and jiggled it into the lock. Shouldn’t take long…just a few moments’ patience, and he’d be in.

He froze as he heard a silky voice behind him.

“Is this your vehicle, sir?”

“Ah, yes, as a matter of fact it is,” stammered Hutch, trying to keep his voice steady against the thudding of his heart in his throat.

“Then why are you trying to open it with what looks remarkably like a professional car thief’s picklock?”

“Well, I know it sounds hard to believe, but I lost my keys. That’s all.”

It didn’t feel too good, Hutch thought, being on the wrong side of the law. He wouldn’t have believed such a thin story, and he could tell the officer now regarding him with deep suspicion didn’t believe it either.

“Get in the car,” he said, resignedly, indicating his own vehicle, parked out of sight around a corner.

Hutch wondered whether he should flash his badge, but decided not to. He wasn’t sure it would help. He went to the other car.

“In the front, sir, please. Where I can keep an eye on you. As you can see, I’m on my own.”

Hutch complied, with graceful dignity, and the car moved off.

“Been doing this long, have you? Knocking cars off?”

“It really is mine,” Hutch replied mildly. “Look, I’m a cop too, you know.”

“Oh, yeah? Let me see your badge.”

Hutch slipped it from his pocket and held it where it could be seen.

“Oh. Oh, I see. Nice picture,” said the other officer, turning his head and looking at Hutch properly for the first time.

But he continued driving. After a while, he spoke again.

“I’ve heard of you. And your partner. You get talked about. ‘Those faggots from Homicide’ was one of the more repeatable comments.”

“I’ve heard worse,” said Hutch.

“Clever,” said the other appreciatively. “Not admitting it, not denying it. Is it true?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Could get you out of an embarrassing situation. Way I see it, I’ve still got good grounds for taking you in. But I’ve got a proposition for you.”

“I’m not interested,” said Hutch. “My partner and I are very exclusive.”

“What I have in mind couldn’t be called unfaithful. Why don’t you hear me out?”

“I’m listening.”

“Suppose you were nicking that car, you’re guilty of attempted theft. Suppose you weren’t, you’re guilty of wasting police time. Either way, you’re guilty. Take your punishment from me and you’re free to go.”

“You’ve got to be joking! One call to Records and I’m in the clear, why should I take your punishment?”

“Embarrassing, though, isn’t it? Getting hauled in at your own station? Wouldn’t you rather have it this way?”

“What did you have in mind?” said Hutch quietly.

The car slowed down, drew to a halt at the kerb. The other officer turned to look at him again, and traced a finger delicately down the side of Hutch’s face.

“Caning,” he said. “You’ve got such fine, white skin. The marks it would leave would be unbelievable. I can hardly wait to see them.”

Hutch swallowed hard. “You’re really getting off on this, aren’t you? Is it the power? Or just the fun of inflicting pain?”

The other smiled lasciviously, and Hutch sighed.

“Oh, what the hell. How many?”

“Twenty.”

Hutch snorted with derision.

“No chance. Six.”

“No. Twelve?”

“Deal,” said Hutch.

* * *

The car drew up outside a house. Another police officer’s house, so different to his own, and yet so familiar. Hutch was escorted inside courteously.

“Would you like a drink first?”

“No, thanks. Get it over with, I’m as nervous as hell.”

“As you wish. Go in the bedroom, then, and strip off. Everything.”

“Everything?”

“Oh, yes. I need to see all that beautiful skin. The contrasts will be so…amazing.”

“You’re a real pervert, you know that?”

“Takes one to know one.”

* * *

Hutch stepped into the bedroom alone. He’d be kept waiting, he knew that. That’d be part of the fun, no doubt, knowing the dreadful anticipation he was feeling. It didn’t help to see that there was already a cane in the room, lying across a chair. Slowly, he began to undress, pulled off his jacket and his gun, stretched, and slipped out of the rest of his clothes. It’d soon be over, surely? OK, it was going to hurt, but he could handle pain. It wasn’t that much of a big deal. He was feeling pretty calm and reconciled to his fate, until he heard the door being slowly opened behind him. Then the trembling excitement of anticipation took him over, and against his will he found himself quivering inside.

Hutch looked at the floor. He couldn’t meet the other’s eyes; he was still partly clothed, he was in control. His feet were bare, and he’d stripped off his jacket and gun, but he was still wearing his jeans and his shirt, and Hutch was naked.

“Bring it here,” he ordered, and Hutch realized he meant the cane. Squirming with embarrassment that only made his heart beat faster, he turned and went to get it, then walked up close to his tormentor and put it in his hand without an upward glance. As his bare arm brushed the other’s sleeve, another tremor went through him, and he was shocked to feel himself starting to get hard.

“Exciting, isn’t it?” a voice purred in his ear. “Lie down.”

Hutch sat on the edge of the bed, and for a moment, glanced up. He licked his lips nervously, then stretched out fully, and rolled over.

“Put your hands beside your head. Do you want something to bite on?”

Dear God, how bad was it going to be?

“No,” said Hutch.

“Good. I’ll be able to hear every noise you make.”

Hutch jerked convulsively as a hand stroked his ass.

“Beautiful. Smooth and perfect. But not for long.”

He felt the cold, smooth cane being gently moved over his skin, and it was all he could do not to let out a whimper.

“This is going to sting. This is going to hurt you so much. Are you ready?”

“Mmm…uh-huh,” Hutch managed to get out.

The cane cracked down, and Hutch jerked again, pressing down away from the pain, like a strip of fire across his ass. His cock was so hard, being squeezed between his body and the bed, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t relieve the pressure, because the next blow fell, harder and stronger, then the next came faster and harder still. Hutch clasped his hair in his hands, trying to bear it, but the strokes kept coming, harder every time, until he cried out. He got a respite, then, a moment or two to breathe, and feel the incredible heat flowing through his skin, burning him up, pushing right through him, and making his cock feel like it would burst. It was torture, it was incredible, it was bliss.

He’d lost count, but there were more to come. And each one felt better and better, forcing him downwards but sending pulses of pleasure through every inch of him, until he groaned and sobbed in ecstasy, writhing and pushing, completely humiliated, completely enslaved. He would have done anything he was told, and the sense of freedom, of abandonment, was total.

It was over. His ass was on fire, his skin wrecked, and his mind and body swirling. Then he felt the bed move, and gentle hands on his skin, stroking and petting the weals.

“Ow!” he groaned, piteously.

The hands were replaced by lips, kissing, licking, taking some of the heat away, soothing, loving.

“God, I bet you’re really hot for it,” said a voice huskily.

He felt rough denim against his skin, coating the unmistakable contours of a rigid cock, pressing against him, brushing his sore ass until he had to let out a whimper of pain and desire.

“You want this, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You’re absolutely desperate, aren’t you? You want me to shaft you.”

“Yes, yes, you know I do.”

“Ask nicely, then.”

“Damn you, Starsk, will you just get on with it!”

“Ask nicely, I said.”

“Oh, God. OK, OK. Please, please will you just get your jeans off and fuck me as hard as you possibly can. Please.”

” ‘Course I will, Hutch, you don’t have to beg.”

He felt smooth gel on his sore skin, soft fingers soothing, then slipping deeper, slipping inside him, opening him, preparing him, and that loved voice whispering to him all the time.

“God, you should see your ass, it’s beautiful. Every mark’s so clear, so raised up. And so should you be…here, tuck a pillow under you. Is that comfy? Good. Keep still now, while I get my clothes off…you don’t have to wait much longer.”

Hutch turned his head to watch Starsky stripping off his jeans, and wriggling onto the bed beside him. It was a beautiful sight, he’d never get tired of it. He smiled, enjoying the warm glow the pain had left behind. Starsky started stroking his ass again.

“Lovely. Feels so hot. You were very brave, Hutch. Took it very well. But you did deserve it.”

“What, because I lost my keys?”

“You didn’t lose them, did you?”

Hutch didn’t answer.

“D’you want me to fuck you, or not?”

“OK, I didn’t lose them. I just couldn’t find them.”

“Why couldn’t you find them, Hutch?”

“Because my apartment is such a damned mess. There, you happy now?”

“Mmm,” sighed Starsky, and Hutch felt his legs being pushed apart, and gasped as Starsky grasped his hot cheeks and pulled them wide, jutted his cock against the opening and slid inside. Hutch yelled as he was shafted. For a couple of heartbeats they kept still, in the ecstasy of feeling so united, then Hutch remembered to breathe, and relaxed, and Starsky took him hard, relentless and powerful, surrounding him with strength and love as he reached his arms around him. Strong hands took hold of Hutch’s cock, and rubbed and squeezed. Higher and higher they climbed, their cries and groans rolling together, until Hutch went into a great spasm, bringing Starsky with him as his ass muscles clenched and drove him sky-high.

Panting, they lay side by side and smiled at each other.

Hutch leaned over and kissed the tip of Starky’s nose.

“Life’s never dull when you’re around.”

“I knew you’d like it if I could get you in the right mood. Didn’t know you’d like it that much, though. It looked pretty good that, Hutch. And it was incredible, seeing what I’d done to you. D’you want to see it in the mirror?”

“No…no, I don’t, specially. I don’t mind you getting off on it – not a bit – but I don’t need to see it. It felt incredible, though, I’ll give you that.”

Starsky sighed with contentment, then wriggled over the edge of the bed and found his jeans, and rooted in the pockets. Hutch heard a small chink, and jumped as a chunk of cold metal landed on his chest.

“My keys, where did you find them?”

But then he saw how Starsky’s face was grinning with mischief.

“Have you had them all the time? You planned all this, right from the start…the whole thing was a set-up!”

He rolled on top of him, grabbing his shoulders and pinning him down.

“You…I’ve a damned good mind to give you a taste of your own medicine!”

“Hoped you might say that if I got you in the right mood….”

* * *

“Starsk?”

“Mmm?”

“My car had better still be there in the morning.”

“Don’t be dumb, Hutch. Of course it will. Who’d steal that?”

 

The End