The best way to shut up a cocky cop? Shove his own gun in his mouth and see if he's still acting all high and mighty.

if i look back, i am lost

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@cophumiliation
The best way to shut up a cocky cop? Shove his own gun in his mouth and see if he's still acting all high and mighty.
Johnny Bananas and CT Tamburello
Hunky himbo muscle cops begging to be turned out by a gang of street thugs.
Officer Johnny strutted around the city in that slutty uniform, showing off his muscles as he brought criminals to justice.
Now he's down on his knees in a dark alley as thugs take turns using his mouth and ass. His hunky partner Officer CT was also in the same predicament. Johnny could feel the punk's dick pulsing inside as other hands reached out and groped his beefy pecs, arms, and thick muscular thighs.
All Johnny and CT could do was moan like total cockwhores as their hunky bodies were used like sextoys by the local gang.
Cop and ball
Officer Stevens looked at his new off duty accessory, a ball gag. As soon as the dominant alpha cop got off duty he placed the ball gag in his mouth and let his master fastened it behind his head. Steven then obediently put his hands behind his back while the master used his own duty handcuffs to secure his hands. Once gagged and bounded, he was stripped out of his uniform until he wore only his gunbelt and boots.
The warden overheard CO Jackson soliciting sex from the inmates in exchange for sneaking them contraband. To teach him a lesson, the warden gagged him and handcuffed him in the only room without security cameras. Soon, any inmate who wanted to could come in and pay him back for fucking them without any fear of repercussions.
He was desperately trying to get his pants off. He wasn’t going to waste this opportunity. The warden obviously hadn’t realized that CO Jackson was begging the inmates to fuck him for the contraband, not the other way around.
He wondered if he could somehow convince the warden to make this his permanent duty.
The 2 detectives chased the evil hypnotist, Mr. Mesmer, into a hotel room but instead of trying to arrest him, they quickly stripped down to their underwear and handcuffed one another. Then, they happily volunteered to provide all details of their case if Mr. Mesmer promised to fuck them senseless.
Officer Thomas felt so relaxed as he stood in front of his master. He was always in control and in charge, it felt so good to give up control to someone else. The master loved Thomas’ uniform, how it proudly displayed his muscular body. The alpha cop moaned as his master stroked his thick arms. Master worked his hands over the sculptured delts and down over the full round pecs. The officer just closed his eyes and enjoy the surrendering to another man. He felt the master’s hands as the move up his pecs to his shoulders. The master lightly press down on the broad shoulders and guide the muscular officer down on to his knees.
Detective Ryan Walker, a towering figure with broad shoulders and piercing blue eyes, was sitting in his patrol car, monitoring the bustling city of Chicago. At 21 years old, he was already a formidable presence, his youthful face offset by the authority he exuded in his uniform. His light hair was cropped short, and his chiseled jaw was set in a determined line as he scanned the streets.
A sudden buzz from his phone interrupted his vigil. It was a message from his brother-in-law, Rhys, a man known for his crude humor and domineering nature. The text read: "Send me a pic of you in full uniform from the bathroom. Make it dirty, cop."
Ryan rolled his eyes but couldn't deny the thrill that ran through him. He knew he shouldn't, but there was something about Rhys’ commanding tone that made him want to comply. "Fine, but can we meet me later. I'm off duty at 8," he texted back, his fingers lingering on the screen.
Later that evening, Ryan found himself in the back corner of a dimly lit bar, nursing a drink and waiting for Rhys. He spotted him across the room, a tall, swarthy man with a wide grin and a twinkle in his blue eyes. Rhys wore a leather jacket that accentuated his broad shoulders, and his black hair was combed to the side, emphasizing his sharp features.
"Nice pic" Rhys asked, sliding into the seat next to Ryan.
Ryan grunted and took a sip of his drink. "You're an asshole, you know that?"
Maurice chuckled, his hand resting on Ryan's thigh. "Maybe, but you loved it. Admit it, you liked the dirty talk."
Ryan felt a flush creep up his neck. "Maybe a little."
Maurice leaned in, his voice low. "You want more? You want me to talk dirty to you, cop?"
Ryan swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. "Yeah, I do."
Maurice's hand slid higher, his fingers brushing against Ryan's inner thigh. "Good. Because I'm going to make you beg for it. I'm going to make you scream my name."
Their eyes locked, and Ryan felt a surge of desire. Rhys reached out, grabbed Ryan’s wrist and rubbed his hand on his growing bulge.
"Fuck, you're hard," Ryan murmurered
"Let's get out of here,” said Rhys in a commanding tone.
In Rhys’ apartment, they wasted no time. Clothes were discarded in a hurried mess, and Ryan found himself on his knees, Rhys’ cock in his mouth. He sucked eagerly, taking it deep, the taste of precum on his tongue.
"That's it, cop," Rhys groaned, his hands fisted in Ryan's hair. "You take it like a good little slut."
Ryan moaned around Rhys’s massive cock, the dirty words spurring him on. He could feel his own cock throbbing, desperate for attention. Rhys pulled out of his mouth, leaving Ryan panting.
"On the bed, on your hands and knees," Rhys commanded. Ryan complied, his heart racing as he felt Rhys’ slick fingers probe his ass. He groaned, pushing back against the intrusion, loving the burn.
"You like that, don't you, cop?" Rhys growled, his voice laced with satisfaction. "You like being fucked."
"Yes," Ryan gasped. "Fuck me, Rhys. Please, fuck me."
Rhys chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. "Beg for it, cop. Beg me to fuck you."
"Please, Rhys," Ryan begged, his voice hoarse with desire. "Please, fuck me. I need it."
Rhys slammed into him, his cock filling Ryan completely. Ryan cried out, the pleasure-pain overwhelming. Rhys gripped his hips, pounding into him with forceful thrusts.
"You're mine, cop," Rhys grunted. "Say it. Say you're mine."
"I'm yours," Ryan gasped, his body on fire. "I'm yours, Rhys."
Rhys’ hand wrapped around Ryan's cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. Ryan could feel his orgasm building, his body tensing.
"Come for me, cop," Rhys commanded. "Come with my cock filling your insides."
Ryan came with a cry, his body convulsing as he shot his load onto the sheets. Rhys followed soon after, his body shuddering as he filled Ryan with a large amount of cum.
They collapsed onto the bed, their bodies slick with sweat. Rhys rolled over, his hand cupping Ryan's cheek.
"You did good, cop," he said, his voice soft. "Real good."
Ryan smiled, his chest heaving. "Please don’t tell your sister." He paused for a moment, clearly debating something in his mind, then added “but you can tell your dad.”
Feeling up the latest captured cop before he’s whisked away overseas
The sun hung high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the quiet town. Officer Cole, a man of stern demeanor and rigid posture, patrolled the streets with an air of authority. His uniform was crisp, his badge gleaming, and his eyes sharp, always on the lookout for any sign of trouble. Today, however, trouble found him in the form of a lone biker, Eric, who rode into town with a swagger that Cole found immediately irritating.
Eric was a sight to behold, his muscular frame clad in tight leather pants and a black leather sleeveless jacket that left little to the imagination. His dark hair was tousled, and his eyes held a mischievous glint that Cole couldn't quite comprehend. As Eric pulled up to the curb, Cole stepped forward, his hand resting on the holster of his gun.
"Afternoon, officer," Eric drawled, a smirk playing on his lips. "What seems to be the problem?"
Cole's eyes narrowed. "You're riding without a license plate. I’m afraid that you need to get off the bike and come with me to the station."
Eric’s gaze lingering on Cole’s badge before meeting his eyes. “Officer Cole, huh?”
He continued to provoke, sending an unexpected shiver down Cole's spine. "What can you do if I refuse?"
Cole's jaw tightened. Before he could shoot back, Eric dismounted his bike and closed their distance in a fluid motion. Cole stood his ground, trying to maintain his tough exterior, but the intensity in Eric's gaze made his heart race.
"You think you're a tough guy, don't you, officer?" Eric said, his voice teasing. "But I can see it from your eyes, you are nothing but a bitch."
Cole scoffed, but Eric's hand shot out and slapped him across the face. The sting of the blow sent a jolt of numbness through Cole's body, and he found himself at a loss for words. Eric's hand gripped Cole's chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. "And you're going to be MY cop bitch, Cole."
With that, Eric shoved him backward, pressing him against the cool metal of the patrol car. The officer’s breath left him in a rush, his body pinned as Eric’s weight bore down on him. Eric unzipped his pants and pulled out his already hard cock. Cole’s eyes widened as Eric grabbed him by the back of the neck and pushed him down onto his knees. “Suck it,” Eric commanded, his voice a raw, dominant growl. Cole’s stomach dropped as he felt the thick, throbbing heat of Eric’s cock press against his lips.
Panic surged through him, but Eric’s grip was unyielding, forcing Cole’s mouth open. The officer gagged as the biker’s shaft slid past his lips, the taste of salt and musk overwhelming him. Eric’s pube hairs tickled Cole’s nose, the scent intoxicating, clouding his thoughts. “That’s it, bitch,” Eric sneered, his hips snapping forward as he began to face-fuck Cole relentlessly. The officer’s eyes watered, his throat burning as he struggled to breathe around the intrusion. His hands clawed at Eric’s leather pants, his body betraying him as he moaned, the sound muffled by the biker’s cock.
Eric’s grip tightened in Cole’s hair, his movements brutal and demanding. “You like that, don’t you?” he taunted, his voice dripping with scorn. Cole’s resistance crumbled, his mind a blur as he surrendered to the humiliation. His lips wrapped tighter around Eric’s shaft, his tongue flicking instinctively as he tried to please the man dominating him. The biker’s chuckle was triumphant. “You look more handsome like this,” Eric growled, pulling out abruptly and yanking Cole to his feet.
The officer gasped for air, his cheeks flaming with shame as he stared up at Eric. “Lick my boots,” Eric ordered, his voice cold and commanding. Cole hesitated, his pride warring with the primal need to obey. But as Eric’s shadow loomed over him, the biker’s boots inches from his face, Cole’s resolve shattered. He dropped to his hands and knees, his tongue darting out to trace the dirt and grime off Eric’s boots. The leather was scuffed, the taste of dust and oil bitter on his tongue, but Cole cleaned them meticulously.
“Good boy,” Eric purred, his tone almost tender as he grabbed Cole’s chin, forcing the officer to look up. Cole’s eyes met Eric’s, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Now, my pits,” Eric commanded, raising his arm to expose his sweaty armpit. Cole whimpered, his body trembling as he pressed his face into the biker’s armpit. The scent was sharp, overwhelmingly masculine, and Cole inhaled deeply, his mind reeling as he worshipped the man who had broken him. Eric’s hand stroked Cole’s hair, his chuckle dark and satisfied.
“You’re mine now,” Eric declared, his voice a low, dominant rumble.
Cole nodded, tears streaming down his face as he accepted his new role. “Yes, sir,” he whispered, his voice broken, his submission complete.
A hypnotic spell has been cast on these officers, once under this spell they will be going to a private conference room where they will engage in an orgy with each other while still fully uniformed. When done their memory will be erased of this event
The Cowboy sped through a few lights to get a couple of motorcycle cops to follow him. Sure, they were angry and ready to shoot the Cowboy. The Cowboy sauntered behind his truck, rubbing his cock. “I understand I’ve been bad,” the Cowboy said to the cops. “However, if look at my eyes, you’ll understand.” The cops stopped in their tracks and felt the relaxation take over their body and mind.
Turning the sexy cop into your bottom boy.
Anyone on a fag hunt knows the best game is masc. Turning an alpha male into your kept boy, well... what could be hotter than that?
Hmm. Hot, but where’s your vest dude?
When his man orders him to report in it doesn’t matter what he’s doing.
That’s right good boys always follow orders
Nothing is more erotic than a uniformed symbol of masculine power rendered powerless, vulnerable, a trophy… to be given a special set of tests, training, use and abuse as a token of the respect it deserves as a former public servant… made into a permanent “personal” servant.
“Do you know why I’ve stopped you tonight?”
I summoned my power with a hand wave in the air. “Because you’re a submissive cockslut who needs his hole pleasured every time you see me?” The magic easily hooked into his years of sexual repression— he was mine.
His head drooped, and when he looked up he flushed red and sank to the floor. He feverishly groped his soon-to-be-plugged hole though his state-issue sheriff slacks. He looked up, his tongue hanging out, as he sputtered a lusty “Please…” How could I refuse such a sincere request. I figured I’d start with that billyclub up his chute as foreplay.
"They warned the rookie to stay away from the Warehouses but he didn´t listen. Now he was being passed on by the goons who fill him up with their seed. The leader of the gang send the tape to the district telling the chief to pay the ransom. Our chief decided to pay later, saying that this will teach the rookie to be a good bitch and obey while also having some fun with the tapes"
he doesn’t know that the texts that have been coming hourly for the last week are from the punk he always hassles on the street … he’s been trying to ignore the messages that say things like “you’re not half the man you think you are” and “an hour with me and you’d realize you belong on your back with your legs spread like a bitch” but when each new message comes in he reads it immediately, no matter where he is or what he’s doing … when the message comes that says, “go into the nearest restroom and send me a selfie of you in your uniform,” he does just that … and when an hour later another message comes that says simply, “shirtless, bitch,” he finds himself again obeying … he can’t believe what he’s doing, and he can’t believe that, as he hits send, his dick is hard in his pants