Gay Erotic Stories

This story could be set in South Africa, America, or possibly New Mexico. It might even be twenty years ago since the event. Where ever its based it is one of those areas beyond normal rule, a place where corruption, power and bigotry make excellent weapons for those lucky enough to control them. Zac Kendle pissed against the front tyre of his bike, he stood at the summit of Gale Ridge from where he could see three amasing straight roads. He’d just downed lunch and a beer and he was now making ready for the afternoon’s work. He straightened his uniform, adjusted his gun belt and belched loudly. He took hold of the radio and reported in to the station. “Kendle to base, F.B.P. (fed, beered, and pissed) resuming patrol” “Baker to Kendle, check Alinson Ranch” came the reply. Kendle smiled and agreed - Kirk Alinson was soon to vanish, he posed something of a threat to the Local Force and that was something that would not be tolerated. The officer resplendent in his patrol leathers slid aboard his bike. Power surged from the engine and a polished boot armed the cop for the blast off. The spring sun made the job a pleasure today. Zac twisted back the throttle - no use being a bike cop if you didn’t fuck engine at every opportunity. The patrol bike swooped like a bird of prey over the valley floor. Its officer firmly bolted to its mighty saddle. The gun a heavy reassuring weight at his right hand side, this was the second source of his power. Within minutes the officer was circling the large ranch house where Alinson lived. A farm hand appeared from the stables and asked if he could help. Kendle said “Any more trouble with snipers?” “No, I feel easier with you boys calling every two minutes though” said the farm hand Alinson had suffered a number of sniper attacks on the Ranch in recent days, the police had stepped up their security but as one of their number was providing the shots it was all a cover. Kirk Alinson was suspicious about a drugs haul which he had found on the extreme of his land. The drugs were about to be shipped on in part of a complex deal which the Head of Police, Gil Baker had master minded. Ah, yes Gil. He had been head of police for some twenty years after saving the life of Blake Johnson the then Mayor who was the wealthiest landowner, toughest character and most powerful man in the County. Gil soon claimed each of those titles for himself. The whole area had been without law. Gil collected a whole band of ‘dedicated’ cops who cleaned up good. He insisted on patrol bikes for all of them - ‘horses’ he called them. Leather uniforms and unswerving loyalty to him marked out the cops. When mistakes occurred he brought to bear the most sweeping protection for his men. Now there was law, but it was his law and no one questioned the status quo if they had any sense. Alinson was about to twig that Baker was a patrol bike riding crook but he would never get the chance to expose Baker and his police gang. The boys would see to that, they would even shoot dead Alinson’s murderer. Well, someone who would be presented as his murdered at least. Zac having carried out his orders powered up and left. Waneston was thirty miles away and that was the patrolman’s next stop. He had a rendezvous with a Trucker who was shipping the drugs. Five miles out he met Officer Jack, and Officer Bruce they were leaning against their ‘horses’ waiting for Zac. The Three of them talked tactics then took off. Elliott Minuh thundered down the highway in his big International Truck. Muscular, balding, in his 50’s he was in good shape. He came this way every couple of months and he and the cops had great sessions together. Sex, bondage and wrestling were not everyone’s first thought when confronted by Baker’s men but Elliot had known Baker from the beginning so he knew the sort of army which Gil had amassed. Suddenly, Bruce was jockeying next to Elliott’s rig, the officer looked like a movie star, rugged good looks, immaculate uniform and the look of the lone ranger as the bike swept him along. “Gain’s Quarry” he shouted through the bikes bull horn. Elliot nodded and the Officer was gone, a cloud of dust vanishing onto the horizon The Quarry was disused, the cops had a base there, it was an extra ‘prison’ shall we say were people disappeared for boot service, sex, leather worship and general slavery at the hands of the police officers. Elliot arrived and was searched as always, Baker himself then roared into the camp on his bike accompanied by his two most powerful officers. They were enormous fellas, and just the sight of them aboard their machines could make even heterosexuals wank. Baker nodded at Minuh but rode over to brief an officer waiting by the gate. Baker left immediately with his two outriders barely keeping up with him. The officer who had just been addressed didn’t waste anytime in taking Elliot Minuh inside the base, here Minuh could enjoy himself. He chose a slave to first massage him, then bath him before licking him dry and then finally sucking him off. The slave had been here several month, an illegal alien the cops had made him vanish into their service. Minuh was getting the works before removing the drugs from a nearby store shed. The slave would later ‘murder’ Alinson. Zac was getting the full treatment from another slave, he was being massaged after fucking the slave against the back of his big patrol bike. This slave had made a pass at Jack a year ago when stopped for speeding. He was so eager to please that the officers had almost fought to have him for their own. Now he took care of all the patrolmen’s needs. Their Homo erotic empire was an excellent incentive to the patrolmen, recruiting was carefully handled and as cops they could instantly destroyed anything that challenged their domination and power. Guns, motorbikes and leather provided the most macho image in which all the cops rejoiced. They were invincible. The power and wealth of their Master ensured they remained loyal and they loved it. Judges, Doctors, three Politicians and a few Generals were all under their control so they had no worries. Zac returned to duty, Elliot was being gang banged by several officers as Zac left. They wore just boots shades, helmets and of course their gun belt complete with weapon. Zac rode off into the night, he smoked a cigar as he roared along, the bike massive and strong aroused him, he rode it everyday yet it still had this magical power over his dick. He crested the hill at the ton masturbating as he writhed on the bucking saddle - a horse indeed. Ahead he could see something on fire, a car. It was well alight. He stopped and removed the extinguisher from the bike and put out the fire. His act of humanity was about to loose him the day. He failed to notice a figure behind him in the dark bushes. While he fought the blase the figure activated a new and highly illegal stun gun. Kendle screamed out in pain and fell to the ground he could hardly move. His hand groped for his weapon. But as he crashed down he blacked out. When he awoke Alinson stood over him, holding the gun but Alinson had come to see if he was OK. He handed back Zac’s weapon, helped him up and placed him in a truck. Alinson then went and radioed for help using the bike’s radio. The wealthy Rancher was really concerned for Zac, within minutes patrolmen were swooping in aboard their machines. Baker literally swept down in his new Police chopper. He thanked Alinson and took Zac off to hospital, Baker also postponed his execution. Gil then took care of Zac for a week at his luxury Ranch. Soon Zac was back on patrol, no lasting effects were troubling the cop except the suspicion that Alinson had been his attacker. There was something else, the feeling that something had been taken from the officer. Speed and shooting practise now obsessed Kendle for the next few days. But suddenly these powers of macho dominance no longer aroused him. No matter how violently he rode his bike he couldn’t achieve orgasm. He then made the mistake of visiting the quarry, a new slave looked after him but when Zac draped him over his ‘horse’ for a fuck, Zac’s power had gone. The slave was terrified, he promised not to say anything but he knew the officer had been humiliated. Zac fired up the machine and ordered the slave onto the pillion. He roared away cutting up Jack at the exit. Zac rode like a madman. As he crested Gales Ridge he head butted the slave with his patrol helmet with such force that one of Zac’s lenses fell out of his shades. The slave blacked out and Zac pushed him from his mount simply by sliding back in the saddle. He watched in the mirrors as the ‘thirty something’ rolled in the road, dead. He slowed and returned to the lifeless body. The slave was certainly dead, he radioed in. No one would question what happened he would say that the man either blacked out or reached for Zac’s gun. He sat on the bike prodding him with his boot. Suddenly as he gunned his engine his power returned and he masturbated. He felt reborn. His power to kill broke the chain that kept him impotent. He felt the warm cream blasting in his leathers, with the bikes vibration brought him into heaven. But when he looked at the body he suddenly caught a glimpse in his memory. In it, he was lay on the ground being sucked off, his own pants were pulled right down. He had never done that in real life. As he strained to remember Alinson was stood over him and his farm hand was sucking off the cops rod. Then Alinson gave him another shot with the stun gun. Kendle’s rage knew no bounds. He booted the bike into gear, oh how he needed its violent throbbing speed now. As if sensing his rage it provided absolute power over the road. Kendle called for back up while riding. Baker came on and said “stop and wait for me.” “Cant do that” shouted Zac “Obey, me Zac, obey your Master” Zac shut off the radio But as he came toward the farm, the chopper was circling and three patrol bikes blocked his way. The officer’s trained their guns on him. Zac stopped he knew that Baker could not allow the empire to fall because he had gone crazy. The officers would obey the Master,- they would shoot. All that power was too good to give up even if they had to wipe out a buddy. One of the officers came forward and removed Zac’s gun saying “Really sorry, Zac”. The officer switched on Zac’s radio. Baker said “Its alright Zac, come to me at Gale Ridge”. After a few minutes, the officer handed back his weapon, and Zac returned to the Ridge. Baker was astride his bike, his two outriders saddled near by smoking cigars. “I am sorry” said Zac. Baker said “What happened here” looking down at the slave. The officer told him everything. Gil Baker, dismounted and marched over he made Zac give a blow job, then he said “ We’ll destroy him, you will have your revenge on them both, but when I say so, you will obey me, I look after you, I love you and I give you my power but I will have obedience Officer Kendle or I will wipe you out from my own saddle just like you wiped out this slave. DO YOU UNDERSTAND!” Zac pleaded forgiveness. Jack arrived “Escort Zac to my Ranch and keep him there for the next seven hours”. Baker straddled his own ‘horse’, it’s motor blasted hot in the tail pipes. The Master pulled a tight circle before unleashing his monster on the road. The two outriders with him still smoking headed off to Alinson’s Ranch. Jack accompanied Kendle down to the Ranch. Baker made everyone disappear from Alinson’s place. The three guys who worked there and the man himself were taken to the quarry. Baker’s two officers made them talk, two of the hands were ‘freed’ but would die in a drink drive incident that night. Alinson and his cop sucking farm hand would very soon wish that they had died too. enginefire@motorcyclecops.com TO BE CONTINUED