A New Assignment

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Part 1

Steve Baxter was your usual clean cut police officer. At twenty two, he had a tight butt, wide hairy chest, large arms and thick strong legs. He wore his hair in a conservative way, not too short but long enough to style and keep tidy. He was obsessed with his good looks, and could have any woman he wanted and often did. His freshly pressed  uniform hugged his body revealing the flow of muscles underneath the tight fabric. The arrogant confident attitude he exuded often made people back down from him in a confrontational situation and he felt he had the balls and ability to go all the way to the top.

Recently graduated from the police academy he was still doing his probation period and had yet to make friends at the station where he had been posted.

So it came as a surprise when he was called into his superintendents' office one morning, and offered a new assignment.

"Good morning Officer Baxter, thanks for coming in to see me at such short notice. How are you getting on so far?" said the superintendent as Steve took a seat on the large brown padded chair in front of the desk.

"Fine thank you Sir." He replied. The superintendent was a career officer of about forty five and the years of desk work had given him a noticeable pot belly to match the still large chest of his younger days.

"We have a problem that we think you can help us out with. A major drugs cartel is shipping large quantities of heroine and cocaine into the country and we have no idea how they are managing it. There is a theory that several police officers may be involved and they are helping to cover the tracks of the smugglers.

"I want to know if you would be prepared to help us out with a little undercover work. We need someone who is not well known as a police officer to infiltrate the gang and pass information on to us via coded messages. I will warn you now, this is a very dangerous assignment and I wouldn't normally even consider using a rookie like yourself for something like this but we are desperate and if you succeed you will have a glowing recommendation on your file as well as the satisfaction of smashing a major drugs ring."

Steve looked thoughtfully at his superior and started to think of the pros and cons. If he did this, major promotion up the ladder was inevitable and he could almost see himself shooting straight to the top.

"What does the job entail Sir?" he asked quietly, not wanting to appear overeager.

"Please bear in mind that anything said in this room is totally confidential," replied the superintendent, "and it will not go on your record in any way if you refuse. However, if you do decide to go for the job you will be on your own. There is no way that we can protect you if it all goes pear shaped."

Steve nodded, and motioned for him to continue.

"You will have all records of your career as a police officer locked away in a secret file to which only I myself and one other officer will be able to access. You will be given a brand new identity with full documentary evidence to support it; fingerprints, D.N.A. records, driving license, dental records, social security number, police national computer records, birth certificate, the whole works. As far as all official documents are concerned, you will be a petty small time crook with numerous convictions for burglary, shoplifting, taking vehicles without consent, possession of small amounts of drugs, etc. The criminal record will show that you have never been in prison, but it will be enough for the magistrates to decide to send you down this time. You will be allocated to a cell with a minor courier for the cartel and it will be your job to convince him that you are ready to join the big boys and set yourself up as a runner or something. Then you will be able to pass information to us until we can find out who the moles in our ranks are and smash these monsters for good."

Steve listened with fascination to the superintendent as he talked, and found the whole thing a major turn on. He felt his cock growing hard in his uniform pants at the idea of becoming someone else, even if it was only pretending and he knew he had to have this job. It was a long term assignment but he felt it was worth giving up a year of his life for the challenge he was about to face.

"What do you need from me Sir? I really want this job, and I think I can do it."

"You will be taken to a secret location quite a way from here where a doctor will make a few hypnotic suggestions to you. You will be conditioned to look talk and act as your new identity unless you are given a code word when you are contacted by phone. You will still obviously know who you are, but it is protection against accidental slip up under the influence of drink, drugs, pain or intimidation. Only myself and the doctor will know the trigger phrase to put you into a trance or to unlock your old self, but just in case something goes wrong, the other officer I mentioned earlier will have it locked in his computer with a code being transmitted to him if something happens to me." He raised his hand as Steven opened his mouth "I'm not going to tell you who it is, so don't bother asking. This is a highly secret operation and on a need to know basis. You obviously don't need to know." With that he lowered his hand again.

Steve lowered his head in compliance and started to mull over in his mind what had been said.

"I'll do it Sir." He said with growing excitement.

"Good." Said the superintendent smiling. "From now on, you are on special assignment. As far as the station is concerned, you have received some bad news and have had to go on extended leave. In a couple of weeks I will have it mentioned that you have been transferred to another station so that you can be close to an elderly relative that you need to help look after. I know it sounds a bit daft, but those are always the stories people believe. Make a lie ridiculous enough and people assume it must be true." Standing, he leaned over the desk and shook Steve's hand. "Good luck son, I wish you all the best and will pray for your success."

Steve left the office, and looked round the station. As far as he could tell, this was going to be the last time he saw this place for quite a long time and he wanted to store up a few memories. People walked past him and smiled. They were the smiles of busy people being polite to the new boy, full of encouragement and warmth, but strangely lacking in recognition. Steve knew full well that everyone was thinking "oh the new boy. What was his name again?" and that by the time it was announced that he had left, most of them wouldn't be able to put a face to the name.

Emptying his locker, he noticed an envelope lying on top of his things. Tearing it open he read the instructions inside.

Here is a train ticket and directions to your new destination. Do not return to your police accommodation, all your things will be taken care of until your return. Go straight to the train station and get on the train designated by the ticket. Leave your uniform in your locker as well as all forms of identification. Only take money with you, leave everything else behind.

Steve complied, and headed to the train station feeling strangely naked. He boarded the train and sat gazing from the window at the countryside flashing past wondering what he had let himself in for.


Part 2

Stepping off the train at the station, Steve started to feel a little apprehensive about the whole situation. Not a stupid man, he had come third out of his graduating class and he knew that if this whole deal went wrong he would probably wind up dead in a ditch or propping up a motorway encased in concrete. When he thought about it though he still found himself very exited about the new experiences he was about to discover and thought that he could pull this whole thing off. standing near the exit barrier was a small balding man wearing nondescript jeans and leather jacket who approached Steve as he walked through.

"Mr. Davies? I am Doctor Hinkle. Please come with me."

"Doctor? How do you know who I am?"

"Please, Mr. Davies, all your questions will be answered shortly, and to your satisfaction. This is not the place to have this discussion. Follow me and we can get you to a safe place."

Turning, the little man walked away leaving Steve with no choice but to follow along behind to the car waiting outside. Getting in to the passenger seat, Steve saw that they had left the town and were heading into the countryside. After about half an hour they arrived at a small derelict farm house surrounded by unkempt fields and old broken down machinery. It was obvious that the farm had not been used for many years and a general feeling of neglect and abandonment surrounded the area. Getting out of the car, Steve followed the doctor into the house. All attempts at conversation had proved fruitless, and the only sounds he had got from the doctor were grunts or the comment "wait".

Inside the house, Steve saw that it was spotlessly clean. All the surfaces were scrubbed, and there were several curtained off areas outside the main room.

"Welcome to your new home for the next few weeks, Mr. Davies. I have been given my instructions to prepare you for your new mission and I have been assured of your cooperation."

"Thanks Doc, but what do you intend to do? I was told a few hypnotic suggestions to help me pull off the job I need to do but I don't really know what to expect."

"That's not a problem." Said the Doctor smiling. "I prefer to keep the subject somewhat in the dark until the process is complete. It helps with the induction, and to be frank with you it makes the whole process more interesting for me."

Steve thought that the doctor was a little sinister, but put it down to his general apprehension about the whole deal. "Of course Doc, you're the boss."

"Would you like a coffee before we begin?" asked Doctor Hinkle moving over to a well equipped kitchen area and putting a kettle on to boil. "I always find it helps if the subject is a little nervous to let them unwind over a coffee and get their bearings."

"Yes please Doc, it was a long journey here and a coffee would be great."

"Fine then. Take a seat and I'll be with you shortly. Milk and sugar?"

Steve sat in a small armchair next to a portable television set and looked up. "Black please, no sugar."

"Coming right up."

As the doctor fussed in the kitchen, Steve began to settle down a bit. Hey, the guy must be trustworthy or the chief wouldn't have used him. He couldn't help being a little creepy. Probably why he got into this whole business.

The doctor brought two cups of coffee over to Steve, and passed the black one over. His was white and Steve could see a few sugar crystals clinging to the rim.

"I don't know how you can drink coffee like that" said the doctor "Far too bitter. I need at least three sugars in mine to make it palatable."

"Never liked sweet things myself" replied Steve. "Never eat dessert or sweets. I've always thought of my body as something to look after without filling it up with crap."

"I thought so." said the doctor, sipping his coffee. "I bet you never ate a burger or doughnut in your life either."

"Never saw the point," said Steve "All that poison and artificial crap they use. I always prepare my own food from fresh ingredients. At least then I know what's in it."

"What about smoking then? I know a lot of police officers smoke."

"Disgusting habit. Best thing they could do would be to ban it completely. Don't those people know what it does to them?"

"I couldn't agree more. Drink your coffee, and we can begin with the first stage of your transformation into criminal thug."

Steve looked up at the tone in the doctors' voice, but could make out no change in his expression of polite interest. Shrugging, he sipped on the bitter brew in his cup. There seemed to be a tang to it, like an aftertaste he couldn't place.

"Strange taste to this coffee" he murmured.

"Oh, it's just a special blend I have made up for me. Finish your drink and I'm sure you will enjoy it."

Steve complied, and found that the doctor was correct. As he got to the bottom of the cup he decided that the coffee was delicious and he felt very relaxed. So relaxed in fact, that he had trouble keeping his eyes open. A strange lethargy had crept over him and he felt his eyes closing.

"Oh dear," said the doctor. "If you feel that tired why don't you relax? Close your eyes and drift. It feels good to drift away doesn't it? You want to drift away, only hearing the sound of my voice. All other feelings are disappearing and you only hear my voice."

Steve felt himself falling into a dark relaxing void. He was floating and all sensation disappeared. The only sensation he could make out was the sound of the doctor's voice whispering all round him telling him to trust the doctor and to obey. A panic began to overtake him and he began to struggle against the velvet void but the voice soothed him and he sank further into the darkness. Slowly he lost all sense of identity and felt safe and warm, the sound of the voice being the totality of his world.

Doctor Hinkle grinned at the big man slumped in the chair in front of him. The old spiked coffee trick always worked, and was far more reliable than the old fashioned induction routines he had previously used. A combination of powerful drugs lowered the resistance of the subject and made them very susceptible to suggestion. His own experiences at hypnosis did the rest. He almost felt sorry for Steve, but he had his orders.


Part 3

Steve woke up that morning and yawned. He was feeling strangely relaxed, but something seemed odd and he couldn't put his finger on it. Looking round the  room he saw nothing out of the ordinary. It was the same curtained off alcove that he had gone to sleep in the night before, surprisingly roomy, but nothing special. His clothes were in the corner where he had thrown them over a chair when he undressed the night before after his chat with Doctor Hinkle. That had been a bit odd; he thought as he threw back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the narrow cot he had slept on. Going on about trivial things then announcing it was time for bed. Steve felt he could have started work on his mission straight away but the Doctor had recommended a good nights rest. He stretched, then scratched his chest roughly before moving up to his head. Shave? Maybe later. He quite enjoyed the feel of the stubble on his chin and thought he might as well get dressed. He could hear the Doctor in the kitchen area and started to feel hungry.

Moving over to the chair he had a slight jolt in the back of his head. Surely those weren't his clothes? Then he smiled ruefully as he felt foolish. Must be still tired. Those were the clothes he always wore when not in uniform. He enjoyed the difference from the stiff starchy clothes he wore for a living. Slipping on the outfit laid out on the chair he opened the curtain and went towards the kitchen.

Doctor Hinkle looked up at Steve as he walked towards him and smiled. Obviously the conditioning from last night was taking hold. Steve stood in the opening of the doorway looking very different to his clean cut image of the night before. Tousled hair framed a face dark with stubble. Formerly wide mouth with inviting pout was now set in a line, only taking a random thought to twist into a sneer. He wore a black wife beater which showed off his tight bulging chest with a leather vest over the top showing off his large masculine arms. On his legs were very tight worn denim jeans, held up by a thick black leather belt with large southern flag buckle. His feet were encased in a pair of heavy engineering boots that looked like they had seen a lot of work, scuffed and worn. He had also developed a swagger which made his arse swing slightly as he walked. You only had to look at the front of the jeans to realize he was going commando style. Every wrinkle of his cock and balls were outlined.

"Good morning Steve, want a coffee?"

"Fuck yeah Doc, that would be great."

"Sorry, I forgot how you like it"

"Three fuckin sugars and loads of cream."

"Coming right up. Go and sit down, the bacon and egg will be ready in a bit."

"Fuckin A."

Doctor Hinkle grinned as he made the coffee. So far the conditioning was working as hoped. He had changed his taste in coffee and was swearing now.

From what he had learned while Steve was under that was something Steve didn't approve of. The final test was about to commence, but breakfast first he thought. Anticipation was well worth the price. If it didn't take, he could always put him back under. As they sat talking amiably over bacon eggs and fried bread, Steve felt a little odd, as though he had forgotten something but couldn't remember what. He ate everything on his plate, and even had seconds. The old Steve never touched greasy food but he didn't gave it a second thought. Suddenly the Doctor lit up a cigarette and Steve felt a craving like nothing else in his life.

"Sorry Steve, I forgot you were out," said the Doctor apologetically. "Here, have one of mine. There is a shop nearby where you can get some after."

Steve took one gratefully and placed it in his mouth. Something felt odd, but surely he had been smoking twenty a day since he was fifteen? Raising the lighter to his mouth he took a drag and inhaled deeply. That felt good, but his head span and he began to cough. It soon passed and he took another drag. That was better and he turned back to his conversation with the Doctor.

Doctor Hinkle gloated silently as he chatted. A couple of cigarettes under deep hypnosis and the boy was hooked. True he looked a little green, but that would pass soon. At least he had the technique down pat. With a little help no one would know that he had been a non smoker only days earlier.

Perhaps it was time to accelerate things ready for his abrupt entry into the prison service.


Part 4

Several weeks passed, and Doctor Hinkle was delighted with the results.

Steve had got a job working as a laborer with a local building company and was enjoying himself doing manual labor. The mindless running around and fetching and carrying had hardened his body in ways different to a gym. His neck was thicker and his hands had quickly become coarse and strong. His use of language had simplified and coarsened, tending towards crude jokes and the football results. Lots of fast greasy food and beers with the lads had thickened his stomach and his six pack had a noticeable bulge tending more towards a belly. The Doctor gave Steve free reign on many things, and Steve had obviously decided that a couple of earrings and an eyebrow ring would look good on someone doing the job he was. His hair had grown, and now was just touching his collar tied back with a piece of cord.

He also forgot to shave more often than not and always seemed to have two or three days growth on his face. A new driving license had arrived, and finally the Doctor got the news that Steve's court appearance was imminent.

A warrant had been issued for his arrest for a failure to attend court charge. Doctor Hinkle decided to finish off Steve's conditioning straight away as the police would be arriving the next day.

Steve meanwhile, was quite enjoying himself. There was a part of his mind that was observing the changes in his personality and finding the whole thing hugely erotic. Every night he went to sleep after wanking his thick long cock until he shot his load all over his hand. He had a strange compulsion to lick the spunk off afterwards and found the taste strangely compelling. It had got strange at work too. Never one for manual labor, he had discovered how relaxing the work was. He could turn his mind off and concentrate on the repetition that his day consisted of. Gradually, he began to use the same speech patterns as the other lads on the site, especially a biker guy named Tim. Tim was the typical thick biker. Not that big, he had a wiry strength that belied his small size and he had taken a shine to Steve. His scruffy hair was long and tied back in a rude pony tail and he had a thin scraggly beard that hung several inches from his chin. It had been Tim who had suggested Steve get himself pierced and he was working to persuade him to get a few tattoos as well. 

Steve meanwhile was treating Tim with a little bit of hero worship. His opinions were gradually changing to match Tim's, as were his likes and dislikes. If he said something and Tim disagreed, he found that he came round to Tim's point of view. The piercings were a case in point. Initially adamant that he wasn't going to have them done, he found that after a conversation with Tim that he was down the local tattooists getting holes poked into his ears and eyebrow. Looking in the mirror he felt instant distaste at his new look until Tim commented how good he looked, then he felt like a puppy who had just been rewarded for doing something right and he looked at Tim with a goofy expression of delight.

The hair was another thing. Tim had persuaded him to grow it out until it was long and shaggy. Steve's hair grew quite fast and it wasn't that long before he could tie it back in a crude pony tail in imitation of Tim's style. Eventually Tim told Steve that it was time he went for a radical cut. "You know you want to dude, it'll be fucking cool the way your hair grows," he said as they were having a smoke break. "Something a bit different. We don't want people thinking we're fucking twins, right man?"

Steve nodded his agreement and they decided that Tim could do it that night after work. Deciding to tell Doctor Hinkle, he borrowed Tim's mobile and told him that he was going to be a bit later than normal as he was going for a beer after work.

"Who is that guy anyway dude?" asked Tim curiously.

"Just a guy I live with," replied Steve.

"He your boyfriend?" asked Tim

"Fuck off man. I wouldn't shag him even if money was involved!"

"Good. Thought you might be a queer and all, seeing as you don't talk about girls at all."

"Nah mate. Not me."

Tim looked at his feet for a while then said, "Pity that, man."

Steve looked at him sharply. "What the fuck do you mean by that?" he asked.

"Well, I'm not totally straight man. I found out in prison that I like a bloke to suck my cock sometimes."

"Fuck man, you're shitting me. I never realized."

"If you don't want to talk to me man I'd understand, but I had to tell you. I think you are fucking horny, and would like to play around with you. But I don't want to lose your friendship either." With this Tim stood up and walked away. Barely even thinking, Steve walked after him and without a word spun him round. Tim had a look in his eyes of fear, as though he thought Steve was going to belt him and he stood there as though he was going to let Steve do it. Steve suddenly lunged and Tim flinched, then relaxed in surprise as Steve gave him a strong hug and pressed his mouth to Tim's. Tim tensed for a second then relaxed into the kiss which grew more passionate as they both rubbed their rapidly growing cocks together through the coarse fabric of their jeans.

"For fuck's sake get a room you two!" shouted the foreman as he walked past. "There's fucking work to be done here."

The two men jumped apart with a sheepish look on their faces. "Does everyone know how you felt?" asked Steve.

"Some of 'em do. I've worked with 'em too long not to know me."

"For fuck's sake man. You could have saved me a few wanks if you had told me earlier."

"Yeah, I know now. I was more scared of you walking out though."

"Stupid twat."


With that, they resumed their work and said no more about it for the rest of the day, just rubbing their crotches suggestively and grinning whenever they saw each other.


Part 5

When work had finished that day, they both left the site for Tim's place. It was very modest and didn't have that much in the way of creature comforts. As Steve sat down on the threadbare armchair Tim fetched a couple of beers from the fridge and then set to setting up the equipment he needed for Steve's new hair cut.

Eventually he seemed happy, and motioned Steve onto an old kitchen chair. As Steve sat down Tim motioned him to take off his shirt and looked at Steve's hairy chest. "Need some fucking rings in those tits man." He said.

"Nah mate. Fucking hurts having that done. Wouldn't catch me having that sort of shit done to me."

"Come on man, I think you would look fucking hot with tit rings. You have to get em done as soon as possible."

"Well if you think I should, I might just do it then. Fuck it, I can always take em out if I hate em."

"Trust me man, you will always have something through your tits once you get em done. You will only take em out to change em. Here, take a look at this." And Tim took his shirt off revealing the thick rings hanging off his chest. "My pad mate in prison did the originals. After I got used to 'em I couldn't get enough."

Steve lifted a hand to Tim's chest and slowly started to tug on his nipple. Tim groaned and moved in closer. Steve moved his head up to the other nipple and started to slowly stimulate it with his tongue. Tim undid his work pants and pulled out his thick long cock. Steve slowly started to stroke it, and then he found the thick ring in the end. Pulling his mouth off the nipple he took the cock in his mouth and started to suck. After a few minutes he managed to get into a rhythm with the ring hanging down at the back of his throat and his tongue stimulating the shaft. Tim began thrusting his cock into Steve's eager mouth. Slowly at first, he increased the speed as the intensity of the blow job he was receiving increased. Steve undid his pants and pulled out his own cock, rubbing it up and down until his foreskin became slippery from his own pre-cum. Eventually Tim couldn't stand it any longer and exploded down Steve's throat. Steve was only a few minutes behind and shot all his spunk down Tim's leg. Pulling his mouth off Tim's cock, he bent down and cleaned up the mess he had just made, using his tongue to rub up and down the coarse fabric, eating every drop.

"Fuck man. That was fucking amazing. And you are one dirty pig cleaning your own spunk up like that. I want you to be a dirty pig. I like that in a bloke. The dirtier the better for me man."

"I'll be as dirty as you fucking want mate," grinned Steve. "Now, I thought I was here for a fucking haircut."

"Too right man. Let me get the clippers out. I know you will love this cut and will keep it unless a better one takes your fancy."

With that, Tim started to comb Steve's hair until it hung evenly round his head. Steve started to rub his cock in his pants as he began to get excited at Tim's manipulation of his hair. Tim chuckled to himself as he picked up the clippers. "You enjoy yourself bro? This is going to look really great."

Tim then picked up a pair of scissors and started to trim the areas of Steve's head that he wanted to clean up. Soon he had made a bowl cut around the front and sides, leaving the back untouched. As Steve heard the clack sound of a pair of clippers being turned on, he groaned in his excitement. His cock was rock hard and he was having trouble stopping himself from cumming all over his lap. Suddenly he lost the battle as the clippers touched his head on the front and took a swathe of hair off from front to back, and he shot a thick load of spunk into his hand and onto the front of his work shirt.

"Dirty fucking pig cunt," said Tim as he saw Steve groaning in front of him. You will regret that later."

Steve grinned up at Tim and replied, "I hope so." To which the only reply was another swathe of hair falling into his lap. Tim dragged the clippers through Steve's hair, then looked carefully at the result to make sure there were no stray hairs to spoil the effect.

Steve looked in the mirror that Tim held up for him and liked the result. From the front it looked like a standard buzz cut, very close to his head but from the side and back you could see that Tim had left him with a thick untouched mullet hanging down the back in typical biker style.

"What do you think man?" asked Tim, and Steve just grabbed him and gave him a deep passionate kiss.

"I have to go in a bit? said Steve, and Tim held him close. "No fucking way, man. I told you that you would have to pay for shooting all over yourself during the haircut, and you are going to get you fucking arse ploughed tonight to make up for it."

In reply, Steve took off his shirt revealing his hairy chest and said, "In that case bro, where's the fucking bed?"


Part 6

Doctor Hinkle was worried. He had been visited by the police that morning looking for Steve, and he had no idea where he had got to. Worse, he had had a call from his contact in the police force to tell him that the superintendent that had set this whole thing up had died the night before of a heart attack and that the whole assignment was cancelled. From the doctors point of view it was disastrous as he hadn't been paid and from the look of things, his money was going to be a long time coming. He needed to get to Steve before the police did as he needed to change the programming that he had performed. At the moment, Steve was really susceptible to Tim's suggestions. Doctor Hinkle had felt it was the best way to get Steve blending in with the people he was about to associate with. Unfortunately, the way things were going at the moment, god only knew what Steve was going to end up like with Tim's input guiding the process and no one to apply the brakes, which is what Doctor Hinkle had intended to do last night. Unfortunately, Steve was nowhere to be found.

Steve meanwhile, was having a bad morning. Waking up after having his virgin cherry popped in a marathon session of sex, he found as he looked out of the window, the police walking up the path.

"Fuck!" he groaned as they banged on the door. "They caught me."

"What's up babe?" asked Tim as he walked into the room.

"The fucking cops have come to arrest me. I'm going down this time for sure."

"No worries bro. You will probably end up in the same gaol I came out of. If you do, try to get padded up with Butch Jones. He was my daddy inside. He'll look after you."

"Fuck man, I don't need this."

"Go with Butch. Do whatever he tells you, and don't worry. He'll take care of everything."

The hammering on the door grew more insistent as Tim and Steve shared a long kiss before Tim moved to the door and let the cops in. Glancing at Tim, the police officer took one look at Steve and promptly arrested him, dragging him off to the police car and driving off to the station.

At this point, Tim saw an old bald man running down the street trying to catch up to the police car and failing miserably.

"Hey granddad, what's the problem?"

"Sorry, young man, it's a personal matter."

"If you're looking for Steve, you've just missed him. The fucking pigs just dragged him off to court."

"Shit. Shit. Shit. And other words of a similar nature. I must see him before he gets to court."

"Hey, you the geezer he lives with?"

"Yes, I am Doctor Heinrich Hinkle. Steve is my lodger. You are?"

"I'm his mate, Tim."

"Oh, you are Tim? That explains a lot. I should have chosen someone else. You were plainly not suited to the task as I thought. Good day to you young man." And he started to walk off.

"What you talking about old man?" demanded Tim as Doctor Hinkle walked way. "Oi, I'm talking to you." And he grabbed the old man by his arm and dragged him into the alley at the side of his house.

"Young man, I don't like physical contact. Let go of me this minute!"

"Well you see, Doc, you and me are going to have a little chat, and it can be as physical as you want it."

It was several minutes before Doctor Hinkle began to scream, and several more before he spilled everything...


Part 7

The day passed for Steve in a blur. From police station, to court, to prison had happened at record speed. As far as the authorities were concerned, he was Steve Davies, petty crook whose number had come up, not Steve Baxter up and coming young police officer. In all fairness, the people who had given him his new identity had been very thorough. Every record matched perfectly, from photographs in the police computer to the fingerprints and D.N.A. records, all perfect. As they read the list of previous convictions out to the magistrates before sentencing he looked like the thug that the records indicated. The magistrates took no time to sentence him to six months imprisonment, serving three with the rest on license. Within an hour of the sentence Steve was in a cramped prison van driving to the local gaol.

Inside, it was cramped and smelly. Prisoners were all placed into a holding room and brought out one at a time for processing. It seemed that most of the men were on the scrounge, and Steve soon ran out of cigarettes as he passed them round. This made him popular with the other inmates, but left him nothing to smoke later. Steve just hoped that the other lads would make good on their promises to see him alright once they were on the wing.

Eventually it was Steve's turn to be processed, and he underwent the humiliation of his first strip search. After being documented for height, weight, drug dependency and literacy, he eventually found himself being assessed for single or double cell status. As he looked at the list, the officer processing Steve swore. "Fucking idiots in admin. They have you down to share with Garland. How many times do we have to tell them he was killed three weeks ago." Looking up at Steve he asked, "You know anyone in here you want to share with? We prefer to double up newbie's like you so your pad mate can show you the ropes."

Steve paused to take the information in. The guy he was here to spy on was dead? All this was for nothing then. He thought for a moment and remembered what Tim had told him. "If you don't mind Boss, can I share with Butch please? Butch Jones?"

The officer practically choked on the tea he had been in the process of sipping. "You are fucking joking, aren't you? You want to share with Butch?"

"Yes please Sir. I know a friend of his on the outside, and he said that Butch would take care of me."

"Oh he'll take care of you all right, I'm not sure if it's the way you think though. Still, he gets out in a couple of months so I suppose it won't hurt for a while. Sign here then to say we have discussed it and you are willing then we can get you tucked in cozy for the night."

Steve soon found himself inside the prison proper for the first time. Everything seemed to be painted gun metal grey or a vile bilious green and there was an underlying odor of unwashed bodies that no amount of scrubbing could ever erase. As he was led to a heavy bolted door his heart was thumping in his chest and he wondered what he was letting himself in for. Looking at the label in the slot next to the door, he saw the name Jones. Underneath, some bright spark had written in chalk the words, "Do Not Feed The Animal" and Steve walked into the opened door with trepidation. As the officer slammed the door shut behind him, he saw a large bulky shape in the corner which sat up and chuckled as Steve stood trembling in the doorway. "Well, well, well. Looks like Daddy has a new playmate for once."

At the deep gravelly voice, Steve walked forward and said bravely, "Tim said to ask for you. He said you would look after me."

"Oh that I will son, as soon as you and I have a little talk. Sit down on the bed. Put your stuff next to you."

Steve put his bedding on the mattress and sat next to it. As he looked into the darkened corner he felt a shiver run down his spine.

"Now, I've been speaking to Tim about you and he managed to give me some interesting information today. Seems you aren't all you appear to be and we need to do something about it. "Sleep cop boy."

At the trigger words, Steve's head slumped forwards and as he went into a trance, the part of Steve that remained untouched wondered how the hell had Butch got hold of the trigger phrase from Doctor Hinkle. This was the last thought he had as everything faded into darkness...


Part 8

Butch looked at the slumped figure in front of him and stood up. He was an impressive man, 6'7" tall, and over twenty stones of solid muscle. He had a completely bald head which shone in the weak light of the lamp in the ceiling. He stroked his long thick black beard and walked slowly to the bed. "Now tell me everything about yourself, son." He said as he sat next to Steve. Steve started to talk, and Butch listened. It was a pretty average life that was revealed. Good loving parents and a happy joy filled upbringing. A love of learning coupled with a keen intelligence meant his schooling was good and he finished top of his class both in senior school, and at Police College. The only negative part was the loss of both his parents in a car crash when he was nineteen. This had hurt him badly, but his girlfriend at the time had helped him through it. They had split up eventually and lost touch due to work and other factors, sending each other a card at Christmas but nothing else.

Eventually Steve's tale came up to date with the details of his assignment. Butch smiled to himself as Steve detailed his experiences at the hands of Tim, and thought evil thoughts to himself as Steve fell silent.

"Well son, looks like I can find a use for you after all. Firstly I want you to listen to my voice. All you can hear is my voice and you know that what I tell you is the truth. You believe deep in your soul that I only tell the truth, and you trust me completely, don't you?"

Butch knew he had to be careful at this stage. He needed to prepare Steve to accept him as the voice of authority and he couldn't rush into anything until Steve accepted him. "When I talk to you, you know I am right. My opinions become your opinions. Understand son?" and Steve nodded at the soothing voice talking in his ear.

"From now on, the phrase, 'Sleep cop boy' has no effect on you. They are just words, and they do nothing to affect you. From now on, whenever I and I alone say the phrase, 'Cock sucking ex-cop' you will fall into a trance ten times deeper than the one you are in now. You will only be able to hear my voice and you must obey whatever I tell you. Do you understand me son?"

Steve nodded, and Butch decided that he had done enough for now.

"When I count to three, I want you to wake up and forget the conversation we have just had. You will remember my instructions but you will not believe you have ever been hypnotized by me. One Two Three."

Steve woke with a start and looked at Butch. "Fuck man, I didn't see you sneaking up on me. You scared me out of a years growth."

Butch smiled at Steve. It looked like Steve trusted him as the scared rabbit expression was gone from his eyes. "Make your bed up son, you might as well get some sleep. They only allow us out for exercise and meals so we are going to be banged up for quite a while together. I'll go through the ground rules in the morning." With that, he walked over to the other side of the room and started to undress for bed. Steve looked at him as he was making the bed, impressed with the physique that the man possessed. Almost as impressive were the tattoos covering both his arms. A riot of color and shape, there were mermaids and fish, fruit, skulls, all blended together until you couldn't tell where one started and another finished. It was only as Butch pulled down his boxers that Steve saw the impressive equipment between Butch's legs. Steve wondered how a monster like that got hard enough to be of use. Soft, it was almost twice the size of Steve's cock when hard. Steve pitied the poor bastard that had to service that monster. With that thought he undressed himself and climbed into bed where he fell into a deep sleep.

Butch looked at Steve out of the corner of his eye as he undressed. When he had spoken to Tim earlier that day he had been undecided about how to proceed with Steve. Tim's swiftness to report to Butch was commendable, especially with the information that he had beaten out of poor Doctor Hinkle. Apparently the dear doctor was still unconscious in hospital with the possibility of brain damage, so that was another obstacle out of the way. The death of Steve's contact in the police department was another bonus. The final icing on the cake was Steve's lack of ties. Tim had been worried that Steve was going to get himself into trouble and wanted to protect him. It seemed that Tim was fond of Steve and wanted Butch to look after him until Tim could have him back when he was released. A pity, but Butch had already decided that that was never going to happen. He had a blank canvass here to draw on and he wasn't going to let that go. Tim could play with him, certainly but ultimately he was going to belong to Butch. With a few little modifications of course!!


Part 9

The days passed quickly for Steve, and he couldn't understand why. The reason of course, was the almost constant hypnotic state that Butch kept him in. The only time he was himself was at meal times and during exercise. During the sporadic periods of association, where the lads were allowed out to play pool and table tennis he followed Butch round like a puppy, talking to the other men only when Butch allowed him to. From the sympathetic glances he got when they thought his back was turned Steve realized that the other lads didn't think of him as standoffish, just scared of Butch's disapproval. From conversations he had heard whilst taking a shower he heard some horrible stories about people who had pissed Butch off. This didn't bother him in the slightest. For some reason he felt detached from everything going on round him. The only constant in his life was Butch, and he seemed to hear the mans voice in his head even when he was asleep.

Butch was enjoying himself immensely. It isn't often that you get to tear down the reality of a man's life and rebuild it to your specifications. The first thing he did was to increase Steve's attraction to him until it was verging on hero worship. Steve was now actively begging Butch to fuck his mouth and arse. It had been a major struggle in the beginning, but with several sessions of reinforcement Steve could now take the hugely monstrous cock up his arse without any pain or problem. As a side effect, he could also take Butch's fist up there with no problem.

Butch began Steve's reprogramming slowly. Beginning at his earliest memories, He now believed he came from a broken home. He had a drunken mother who had run off when he was young, leaving him with a dissolute stepfather who had fucked him regularly from the age of ten. When he was twelve he stopped going to school, preferring to hang around with a local biker gang getting drunk and stoned, servicing the drunker members of the gang in exchange for cigarettes and a place to stay. A stay in a local children's home ended when he was fifteen when he ran away and got a job working as a laborer for a road gang.

Butch made Steve believe completely that he was really Steve Davies, dumb ass laborer and petty criminal. He had dreams of Steve Baxter, sure, but that's all they were. Dreams of might have beens and maybes, nothing to do with reality. Butch went through the criminal record that had been read out to the court and gradually going through them, he built memories in Steve's mind. As far as Steve was aware, they were real and had happened. There was nothing remarkable about them, just the story of his life. As a final touch, Butch went through all the sexual encounters that Steve had had in his life. Again, one by one they were altered. Instead of a bevy of beautiful girls throwing themselves at him they became rough men. Bikers, skins, laborers. All rough men that Steve had serviced and been serviced by. His sexual orientation was changed forever, and all Steve thought of now was big fat meaty cock. He also realized that much as he liked Tim, his cock was way too small for someone of Steve's tastes. Butch was the man for him, and if Butch wanted someone as stupid and fucked up as he was, then he would do anything Butch wanted him to.

Butch watched Steve's transformation with fascination. He hadn't realized you could fuck with someone's brain so easily. It was amazing to see Steve go from an intelligent man reading a book in a day, to a man who sat there for hours puzzling over a simple story in a magazine. Butch had decided to allow Steve some reading skill as it might come in useful, but he now had the reading level of an eight year old. It was the same with his math skill. Quite simply, Butch had persuaded Steve to, "forget" anything he had learnt in school past the age of eight. It was quite unbelievable.

Eventually it came time for Butch's release. Steve was heartbroken and quite inconsolable. Butch and he fucked all night until the dawn. Eventually they separated and Butch gave Steve his orders. When he was released in a month's time, he was to wait outside the gates until Butch came and picked him up. Until then he was not to have sex with anyone. That included himself. Wanking was forbidden so he might as well get used to the idea. His pleasure depended on Butch and to think that he could pleasure himself was ridiculous. Butch thought for a moment, then relented slightly. "If something happens to me, then find Tim and give him your trigger phrase. If I am not there by the end of the day then I'm not coming. Find Tim and give yourself to him. Apart from that, you're mine." And with a hug, he picked up his stuff and stood by the door as the officer released the door. Steve lay on the bed and waited until they could be together again.


Part 10

When it came time for Steve's release, he was very excited. During the last month the tension had been unbearable. A few of the other inmates had thought he was fair game once Butch had left, but one of the things Butch had done was to make Steve violent and volatile. After a few well aimed punches, the would be daddies had backed off and put out the word to leave him alone. The officers had never found out about the little scuffles so Steve's release had gone ahead as planned. Steve walked out of the doors with his cock growing in the excitement of meeting Butch again.

After a few hours of patiently sitting on the wall opposite the prison there came the sound in the distance of a loud engine motor bike. Standing up and looking in that direction Steve saw a big hog barreling up the street, Butch at the controls. Screeching to a halt, Butch threw Steve a helmet then set off as soon as Steve had climbed on board. Steve just clung onto Butch's strong torso and allowed himself to relax into the ride. Part of him was terrified as though this was the first time that he had experienced this speed and danger, but his rational mind told him that he had done it a lot and there was nothing unusual in the sensations. Eventually they pulled out of the city into the countryside where Butch could really open the baby up.

As it grew dark they pulled into a large house where several bikes were already parked. Steve could here the heavy thumping of loud rock music coming from the windows. Climbing down off the bike, he was surprised and delighted when Butch grabbed him and shoved his tongue into his mouth. As they tongue wrestled, Steve felt a sense of well being overwhelm him and he felt content. Breaking the lip lock, Butch turned to Steve and said, "You ready to become my boy for all time, son?" and Steve nodded. Nothing would please him more. "Well come on then, we have a few things to do before we can make it official." And Butch pulled Steve into the open door of the house.

Inside were a number of men and women. It took Steve a few minutes to work out what was going on. There was a strong feeling of anticipation as he walked into the room. He could see different couplings within the group as he was led through. In the corner was a grossly fat man licking the vagina of a tall busty woman dressed in leather. He was naked and hairless, and the sweat on his body formed a glistening sheen. Occasionally she flicked his arse with a riding crop and he redoubled his efforts to please her as she stroked his head with long taloned fingers.

The other side were three men. The man in the center was naked apart from a pair of high leather boots and a harness of leather crisscrossing his smooth heavily muscled chest. In his closely cropped and bearded mouth was a long thick cigar which he puffed on furiously as two young teenaged boys serviced his cock and arse at the same time. Noticing Steve's glance, Butch looked at the scene and said, "Master D loves matched pairs. These two are twin brothers he is training up for his own personal use. They are devoted to him now. It took a bit of work though, as they kept running off. I won't tell you what stopped them as it might frighten you too much."

As they walked to the end of the room it all started to blur into one and all Steve really saw were sweaty bodies, tattoos and piercings, lots of leather and rubber, and acres of naked flesh.

Passing through the door at the end, he found that Butch had brought him into a quiet empty room. Before he could do anything, Butch had ripped his trousers down and had thrust his huge cock straight into Steve's tight hole. Steve screamed in pain, then his conditioning took hold and he relaxed round the monstrous tool. Butch fucked Steve relentlessly until with a shudder he came and fell forward trapping Steve on the floor. Steve meanwhile had come as well. The weeks of waiting and anticipation had built up until he was almost as much of an animal as Butch had been. He felt the release of his spunk and almost passed out with the intensity of it. Finally catching his breath, he turned his head and licked Butch's ear. When Butch turned his face towards him Steve said, "Thank you Daddy," and kissed butch on the mouth.

"Fuck boy, that was the tip of the iceberg. Your arse is going to get so much use you will forget it has any other use." Climbing off Steve, he then said, "Today you get your mark of ownership boy."

Steve stood up and faced Butch, giving him a look of pure devotion and desire, and he said, "Ready when you are Daddy." And grinned.