Controlling Officer Brandon - Part 3
by Jerol Villadolid
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continued…
I hurriedly rushed to the phone as it rang at exactly 9 pm.
I have fully expected this mystery stalker to call me because I know and understand his motivations. I actually have an intention of making him into an ally instead of an enemy. We have the same objectives. There is no reason why we cannot both get what we want.
"Hello?" I heard a masculine voice speak from the other end.
"Yeah hello. Is this Brandon's stalker?" I asked.
"…. I guess you could call it that way…. but what does that make you?" He said.
"His tickle master. I know you're envious of me. That's why you want to join us. Don't you? You want Brandon's feet in your hands and you want to tickle him like I do… do you?" I asked.
"…….."
"it's ok. You don't have to worry. We're perverts of the same color you just happen to be in the closet while I'm in the blackmailer's chair. We can both have what we want." I said.
"How are you pulling this off? I mean… why does he keep coming back to you?" Said the person on the other line.
"You don't get to squeeze a peep more out of me or about your love officer Brandon until you tell me your full name. Who you are. And what you look like. i'm more experienced than you are buddy so you're not gonna outsmart me on this." I replied.
The person on the other end stammered but eventually relented to my orders.
"R-Rico… I'm Brandon's patrol partner." He said.
My cock bounced into life at this revelation. Something I partially expected. Another hunky cop.
"Rico…" I said repeating his name.
"I think I sense where this is going. Might i ask why you would be looking at my man and spying on him?" i added.
I only got silence in the other line. This was going to be harder than I thought. A closeted gay guy is not easy to coerce out. I would have to meet Rico, personally, and talk to him in person.
I quickly deviced a plan on how I can give Rico a preview of our adventures. I already have a strict plan on Brandon's future torments. I may just be able to squeeze this voyeur in on one very intense experience I plan for Brandon this coming friday.
"Listen Rico. I know what you want. Your silence says it all. I have a plan which I know you can't wait to join in…. listen carefully…" I said, explaining the details of what we were about to do to give him what he so craves.
***
(Friday, 5:48 PM)
"Alfred… Please…." Brandon pleaded with me teary-eyed as we approached the Shadow Lounge.
"I can't do this. You can't do this to me. I beg you…." He continued.
"Don't worry Brandon. I told you. You will thank me for this. You will have the time of your life tonight. People there are going to love you." I tried to assure him.
"You can't drop me off there defenseless. At least let my hands loose. I need to get these damn socks off. I need to scratch my feet! What did you rub on them? I can't stand it!" Brandon said kicking the passenger seat floor.
"Shhh… calm down. It's only a form of Indonesian beetle powder. Made from the coniferous plant. It's completely safe and doesn't leave a mark. But it itches like hell for the first 4 hours after application." I explained.
"Alfred! It's really beginning to itch now. FUCK. SHIT. Get these boots off!" Brandon said trying to maneuver to kick me.
"Hey! I'm driving here Brandon. Settle down or i'm gonna leave you like that until tomorrow." I said.
"You're gonna get your relief. We're almost there. You are going to beg these leather jocks to try and relieve your itch. It's your only hope of getting your dawgs scratched this entire evening." i added.
Brandon threw his head back at the passenger seat and tried to deal with the itch one second at a time. I swear, I could almost cum looking at how intensely the sensation on his bare feet is making his head move from side to side and his eyes shut tight and open sponteneously.
I have never used itching powder before. But I decided to use it on my handsome young cop after a person I chatted to online suggested I use it on him.
He sent me 2 jars of the finest Indonesian beetle powder with instructions to use a few ounces of it on his soles.
I used up half an entire jar on Brandon's soles and toes as I laved them up while his hands were already cuffed behind his back.
"We're already here." I said as Brandon's eyes were practically rolling behind his head.
"Brandon…. you need to go down." I said.
"Alfred….." Brandon said giving me that puppy eyes that has worked so well on me on previous occassions.
But not tonight.
I was determined that Brandon should have this experience. The men in the club will go crazy over him when they see this handsome blond man, in full police uniform, with his hands cuffed behind his back. They will be lining up his front and back to have a chance at getting their hands on his irresistible body. He is going to have the night of his life.
"Brandon… you could either stay here in the car with me the whole night, or go inside. It's your choice. But if you stay here, your not gonna get your feet scratched until tomorrow morning. And its just 6 pm." i said, luring my handsome young cop to go down and enter the club.
It's been 30 minutes since I applied the itching powder and I know it's nearing full effect by now. Brandon was thumping his boots on the car's floor trying to get some sort of relief. However the thick wool socks I made him wear guarantees he is not getting any itching relief by mere stomps. It will only make it worse. He needs fingers to scratch his feet. Maybe soft brushes to glide through his soles.
"FUCK!!!! Alright you old hog! Open the damn fucking door!!!" Brandon said almost hysterical with a mixture of rage, desperation, and confusion in his face.
I leaned over, gave him a kiss on his red cheeks first, then unlocked the door and swung it open. Brandon immediately jumped out and before he can get his mind together and jump back inside, I quickly closed it.
I rolled down the window to speak to him.
"Brandon. I will come pick you up at 1 am. You have 7 hours to find a man who will be willing to scratch your sexy feet. I'm sure you will have no problem. Be nice! People here are quite professional. This is an expensive leather club, your ticket is already in your right pocket." I said.
"Wait… you can't leave me here alone…. Alfred ple…." His words were cut when my passenger window rolled up.
It hurts my feelings to leave a handsome man like Brandon on his own, begging to enter my car and be with me. The Irony of the setup. But I know my role as a tickle master, and I will go through great lengths to make sure my tickle pup gets the most intense pleasure experiences. Two hands are better than one, and I know Shadow Lounge has dozens of tickle-fiends every night just like me. He will be ganged up by drooling gay daddies in no time.
I pressed on the gas and disappeared into the cold night. I've tipped the bartender with $200 to keep an eye on a certain 'Blonde cop' to make sure he stays safe. I know the crowd at that bar was quite refined, but I needed extra security just in case.
***
"SHIT!!!" Brandon cursed the open air. His eyes were practically in tears from the incredible itch. The Indonesian beetle powder all over his soles and toes were like ants dancing and parading up and down his bare feet. It didn't hurt, but it was very very irritating.
An effect of the terrible itch was also to give him a hardon. Somehow, an intense sensation that keeps itself from being satisfied now makes Brandon hard. His weeks of training with Alfred made him get an erection whenever he is being denied something he wants. And he wanted nothing more than to have a pair of hands scratch his soles. Whomever or whatever they belonged to.
The cock cage, however, was still blocking Brandon's cock from stiffening to its full glory. Alfred wanted the people at the club to see Brandon's humiliating captivity. There are many daddies over there that get turned on seeing a boy in this manner, and they will go crazy when they see Brandon's beautiful, pink cock locked and unable to stand up.
Of course, there was no way Brandon was walking out of this bar without cumming at least 3 or 4 times. Alfred gave the bartender the keys to the cage along with the $200 to make sure to release Brandon when enough men are around him and pleasuring him into oblivion.
Brandon sat at the pavement in front of the club and threw his head down. He could not believe the situation he was in. The setup for the night, his whole predicament. He didn't know what to think. A part of him felt violated by the obscene and embarassing things Alfred makes him do. It's as if the old man is trying to suck up Brandon's manly aura and essence. Everything he makes the young cop do is designed to humiliate him, the perfect, handsome, young man. At the hands of an old, unattractive, software engineer.
However a small part of him also felt extremely turned on at his captive condition. He couldn't quite explain it, but the whole idea of being completely controlled by a man whose sole purpose was to worship and admire him got Brandon turned on like nothing else. The fact that he couldn't even cum on his own, and all his sexual releases and orgasms were intercepted so that it could only occur while he was being tickled or licked in his most intimate parts. All of that adds up to make his relationship with Alfred into a mind-blowing and out of this world experience.
"Hey, are you gonna go inside or what?" The club's bouncer said standing behind Brandon's back.
Brandon snapped back into reality as he looked up at the brawny black man. He realized nothing will happen to him if he stayed out there in the cold. The clock on the club's entrance read '6:27.' It had barely been 27 minutes since he was dropped off and already Brandon's willpower in resisting the incredible itch had all but evaporated.
"Yeah… please help me up." Brandon replied.
The bouncer helped the young cop back to his feet, he was bewildered by the loud stomps Brandon did with his boots when it hit the pavement. Brandon's hands were already scrabbling in his back and his toes were going crazy inside his thick boots as the wonderful itch penetrated deeper into his sole's nerve endings. Brandon felt like melting into jelly at the intensity of the sensation. He was ready to kick anything or anyone just to get a slight relief on his poor, tormented feet.
"Hey do you think you could…." Brandon said desperately, before being cut off.
"No time for talk. Go inside or go away. The crowd is beginning to arrive." Said the bouncer as he returned to guarding the club's doors.
Brandon heaved as the itch has finally overtaken his better judgement. Almost involuntarily, his legs marched him into the club as the ticket was taken from his pocket. He was desperate to find a shy, decent, compassionate man inside who will give pity on him and will scratch his feet as a sign of kindness. Brandon, the naive straight hunk, could not have been more wrong.
As he finally stepped inside, Brandon was slightly thrown aback by the costumes of the crowd. Everyone, including the staff, were wearing shiny black leather. Some had it in their vests, others, in their hats. Some even had dog collars on their necks, and there was one young man on all fours in a corner of the club appearing almost as a dog. Attracting quite the attention and getting pats on his back.
Brandon gulped down and scanned the place desperately for a kind face. An angel that will rescue him from the hell inside his boots. The itch was so intense that it is driving Brandon's cock to push hard against the cage attempting to salute Brandon's horny condition. He tried to keep it together as the last thing he needed right now was another distraction in his pants to come with the sensations in his feet.
Brandon would find out that many of the men he looked to would look straight back at him. Lustful expressions in their faces. Most of the guys in the club were older. Some with grey hair and burly bodies. I guess it's what you would call the 'daddy' type.
Brandon finally met eyes with someone near the bar that smiled at him. This was a good enough sign of friendship, Brandon marched towards the leather-clad man hoping against all odds he could be the one to relieve his itch.
As Brandon got close, the daddy chuckled at what he saw.
"Nice gear…. what are you trying to be…. a cop? Hahaha" The man laughed out loud.
Brandon let go a smirk humored by the irony of what the old man said.
"Hehe." He replied coyly.
"So. What's a hunky young man like you doing in a bar like this? I haven't seen you around here before." The old man said as Brandon sat at the stool beside him.
"S-Someone invited me to come here." Brandon said barely able to keep his voice straight.
"Really? And he had your hands cuffed behind your back too? i like his style." The daddy said.
"You know… entering a club like this defenseless as you are is going to invite quite the attention from people. Are you sure about going here tonight?" He added, pointing out that Brandon's handcuffs are bound to make him a target to the drooling gay men looking at them.
"I-I… I know I….." Brandon couldn't get words together as his eyes shut tight fighting back a particularly nasty wave of itching sensation coursing from his boots all the way up his body.
"I what?" The daddy said. Looking closely at Brandon's tormented face.
"I… I need you to scratch my feet." Brandon blurted out unable to refine his words anymore.
"Scratch your feet? Well… i've never heard that pick up line before." The daddy said as a hardon slowly developed in his pants.
"Wait a minute…" The old man muttered as he saw Brandon's shiny black boots attempting to scratch each other's leather tops.
"Your feet…. you have itching powder down there don't you?!" The man said fascinated and amazed at this sudden conclusion.
Brandon's eyes shot up surprised how the old man could have guessed what was going on. He looked at him with his most pleading, irresistible expression. Begging the man through his looks to show some pity on him.
However, this vain attempt at soliciting mercy got the exact opposite effect. Far from being moved, the old daddy became hornier than ever. The fact that an itching sensation in the young man's feet is driving him nuts and he's unable to do anything about it, made the old man massively horny and he wanted nothing more than to watch the incredible itch devour Brandon whole.
The old man wanted to add another sensation that Brandon would have to deal with aside from his foot itch. He lovingly searched the young officer's uniform near his pecs to find Brandon's already erect and hard nubs. The itch in the young cop's feet was not enough, he wanted him to deal with multiple, unbearable, and delicious sensations that will make him completely lose it.
Brandon almost jumped up the chair as the sweet, familiar sensation of a lusty set of fingers clamped on his nipples mixed and mingled with the now unbearable itch in his soles. Brandon was almost thrown into oblivion as the old man's other hand joined in and searched Brandon's other pec for that nub of pleasure. As the two hands tweaked and rolled the stiff nipples, Brandon felt like falling off the high chair and convulsing in the floor.
"Mmmm… boy…. you are going to have the time of your life tonight." The old man said.
"A young man as sensitive and good-looking as you will have everyone in the club line up for a chance to touch you." he added.
"Poor you. The one thing people here will not do to you is scratch your feet. If anything, they will glide their fingers lightly through your soles making the intense itch into an intense tickle. You have never felt anything like that before I'll bet on it."
"Mmmhhhhh… please…. please… no… ahhhh." Brandon moaned.
The bartender and the men on either side of them were already looking at the action. They could not believe their eyes how this tall, extremely muscled, and extremely handsome young man could be handcuffed like that and have his nipples tweaked by some random stranger against his will. This whole scene appears completely unreal.
The fat, short latino man behind Brandon got up and started smelling Brandon's sweaty neck. He was giving the delirious cop sloppy kisses all over the side of his head from his cheeks down to his shoulders. Biting the sexy cop uniform as he went along.
Brandon went especially wild as the old, fat man started playing with his right ear driving that lustful wet tongue in and out and sucking on his earlobes. The sensations were too much for the young cop, he was just about ready to explode into a million pieces or take off like a rocket.
Still louder moans of pleasure escaped from his lips. The men near his vicinity have stopped what they were doing and are all looking at Brandon and how the two older men were playing with his defenseless body.
Almost all of them have raging hardons.
More hands joined in the action feeling Brandon's prominent muscles through his uniform. There were hands squeezing his biceps, hands feeling his stomach, tracing the outline of his pecs, squeezing his strong thighs, feeling his broad back, and some even finding their way into his intensely ticklish sides.
The angle of his handcuff made it that the hands that got to the side of his torso were trapped and had to wiggle their way around. This involuntary action started the ticklish dimension of the investigation of Brandon's body. Delicious giggles escaped his lips in between his moans. Encouraged, the man who had his hands trapped in Brandon's sides formed his fingers into claws and dug in the young cop's ribs.
The sudden tickle attack threw Brandon completely off balance and loud laughter came from his mouth. The pleasurable squeezes, pinches, and carresses of the men on his muscular frame all but complemented the tickling of his sides, driving Brandon into new levels of ticklish ecstacy.
He was trying to stand up and run from the dozens of hands that were molesting his perfect body. But strong arms were holding his shoulders keeping him in that high chair unable to escape the many lustful fingers that were tracing every outline and crevice of his still uniformed muscular body.
The stakes were raised when the daddy who discovered him began to unbutton his cop uniform. No longer satisfied with mere pinches of his nipples through the black fabric. He wanted his bearded mouth to explore Brandon's smooth pecs and suck on those pink nipples in person. He was an expert at sucking a boy's nips. He has driven many young men before into spasms as his wet mouth would alternate in pleasuring the nubs with his thick, ticklish moustache. The boys would go out of their minds as the stiff hairs would lightly glide across the sensitive, pink nubs that are already wet and extremely hard from an intense sucking and licking sesssion.
Brandon, with his highly sensitized nipples thanks to Alfred's endless attentions, would be in for the ride of his life as his hard nubs were presented like a prize to the drooling mouth of the old man.
"Oh sweet Saturn… just look at these two beauties. I've never seen a more delicious pair of nipples in my entire life." Said the old man, impressed at the hard, pink nubs of pleasure on Brandon's muscular, smooth pecs.
Unable to resist anymore. The old man brought his face down and wrapped his lips around Brandon's right nipple. He played his tongue around wrestling with Brandon's erect flesh. Brandon screamed in sensory overload and really tried to use his muscle power to get away. Only to be kept in the chair by the quick thinking of one of the gay men behind him.
A man has grabbed Brandon's boots and bent them backwards making sure they don't hit the floor and that Brandon could not stand up. He sacrificed his two hands from engaging in the molestation of Brandon's body so that the other men can continue unabated in their exploitation of the defenseless young cop.
Now Brandon was truly trapped. He was already handcuffed and now he can't even stand up. The men increased their efforts and all Brandon could do was throw his head back and shake it wildly trying to wake up from a ruthless dream.
The old man in his chest was delighted to sense shiver after shiver from the helpless man. He stopped sucking Brandon's nipple momentarily and brought his moustache to make contact with the wet flesh. The moment the stiff hairs kissed the pink nipple Brandon screamed at the top of his lungs. The evil moustache was slowly gliding left to right and then back again. The sensation of the wiry hairs gently gliding across the deathly sensitive nipples was unlike anything Brandon has ever felt before. It was a kind of tickle that Brandon was unprepared for. His mind couldn't formulate a response to this new, alien sensation. Mere hysterical laughter would not suffice, he just kept his mouth agape and a silent scream of desperation escaped his quivering lips.
The old man alternated this ticklish treatment by returning to sucking the nipples one after the other, then going back to the moustache tickling. His other hand tweaking the other nub that his mouth wasn't pleasuring.
The other men took this distraction of Brandon to gradually strip more and more of his clothing. His belt was removed, his black shirt drawn back further across his shoulder. The pants were lowered all the way down to his ankles and the men went crazy bumping each other's heads trying to compete for real estate where their tongues could glide through Brandon's sensitive, flawless skin.
There were more than a dozen drooling gay mouths exploring every nook and cranny of Brandon's perfect, muscular body. Tongues were gliding through his sides attempting to enter his closed armpits. Some trying to wiggle their way into his navel. Others gently biting his powerful biceps, and more sucking up all the sweat coming from his back. Brandon was a gigantic human popsicle that the men simply could not get enough of.
For Brandon, he was entering a new dimension of pleasure that he has never been in before. The flood of erotic bliss from the unruly tongues and mouths that were sucking up every bead of sweat on his body was sending his mind into complete overload. His eyes were beginning to roll behind his head and he was just about ready to pass out. But not before someone yelled and most of the tongues stopped for a few short seconds.
"Hey take a look at this!" One of the men said as he brought down Brandon's briefs.
"Oh shit it's a cage!" Another said.
"Yeah this man might not have cum for days!"
"What a cute, pink cock. Trying desperately to get hard."
The bartender standing before them looked lustfully at the scene as he was stroking his own cock. Not a quick-witted man, the bartender hadn't yet remembered that he held the key to the release of Brandon's cock. The young cop would have to continue enduring the teasing torture of his perfect body.
The cage did not stop the gay men, however. There was one guy who went to his knees and placed the heavy, large balls inside his mouth one at a time. Sucking up the young cop's manly aroma from his balls. Another went to his cock and licked up the endless drops of precum that were coming out of his trapped cockhead. The cage was clearly no impediment to these determined daddies. It is only the orgasm that cannot yet be reached.
The men seemed poised to devour Brandon into oblivion. He was a piece of meat thrown into a den of hungry lions. His body was going to satisfy their unquenchable desires bulldozing all his boundaries and limitations. He was going to be pleasured and sexually molested in ways his mind could not even contemplate. He was all but destined to melt into the night as a helpless man in the hands of some of the city's most extreme perverts.
That is, until a thin, middle-aged man stepped up from behind and yelled;
"There you are! I've been looking all over for you!" The man said making his way through the thick crowd of admirers.
"Hey get off of him! Shoo… Shoo!" He said, sending the obsessed men away one at a time.
"I said get off of him! Let him go!" He added as he forced the man holding Brandon's feet off the ground to let go.
The man promptly assisted Brandon to stand up in his confused state as he assisted him holding his arm. The crowd, yet unaware their prize was about to be taken from them, was delayed in reacting to the quick-minded savior.
The man rushed Brandon through the bar into a waiting open door beside the comfort rooms. This was a private room with no one inside. As they both hurriedly entered the man quickly closed the door and locked it before anyone could understand what was going on. He just stole the evening's most prized possession from under the nose of the horny leather daddies.
Brandon crashed on the carpeted floor in his knees unable to stand up unassisted. He has been completely shaken up. His pants and briefs were still down to his ankles and his flawless, fair skin was glowing with the saliva of the evening crowd. He was in such a tormented state, his itchy feet yet to find some relief.
"It's a good thing i was here. God knows what would have happened to a guy like you out there." The man said.
"I've seen these daddies molest and devour young men before. And those men weren't even helpless. Who knows what things they would have done to you if you could not fight back or even resist." He added.
"W-Who… who are you?" Brandon said looking up dazed at the man.
"You don't remember me officer Brandon? Look harder…" He replied.
Brandon squinted to the man's face trying his best to recognize him. He saw a lanky man in his early 30's wearing provocative attire and looking familiar with this scene. Brandon slowly shaked his head unable to match the image with anything in his memory.
"I'm sorry I…." Brandon said.
"Don't worry. I didn't expect you to remember me anyway. What's a hot, young cop like you doing taking a second look at an older guy like me. You probably forgot about me the moment you put on the handcuffs." He replied.
Brandon's eyes bulged out realizing this was probably someone he has nabbed before.
"That's right officer Brandon. You have put me to jail. About a year ago, for prostitution. Don't you remember?" He said.
"My name's Wilbert. And you caught me at the corner of Kent and Meath street. You put me to jail for almost a year. Remember now officer Brandon?"
Brandon looked at the man in complete shock. He could not believe it. A man he has put to jail is now standing in front of him with complete power and control over him. He did his best to reason with the man and plead for his sympathy.
"Please…. I was just doing my job. I didn't mean anything personal against you." Brandon pleaded.
"Oh don't worry. I have nothing against you officer. I know the law. And I just had to break it because I have no other options. I have to eat. And selling myself is the quickest way I know to make money." Wilbert replied.
"But I could not believe the Karma of what happened tonight. Who would have guessed. The hot cop who nabbed me and appeared unreachably superior to me at that time is now on the floor trapped in his own handcuffs, unable to resist anything i plan on doing." He added.
"Please…"
"You know, I was high in the back seat of your vehicle on that day. And I could've sworn I saw a delusion of this day coming to me. I must be psychic or something. Or maybe just incredibly horny at that time. Haha."
Wilbert took Brandon's arm and helped him get up from the floor. He helped maneuver Brandon into the large, king-size bed in the middle of the room. He flopped Brandon on his back and proceeded to take off his pants which was still stuck near his ankles.
"We need to get these boots off." Wilbert said.
"Please… please I need my feet scratched. I can't take it." Brandon pleaded.
"What? Feet scratched? why…. ohhhhh." He replied.
Wilbert hurriedly undid Brandon's boots eager to get a glimpse of his tormented feet. He took off the boots and placed the inside's to his nose smelling the foot scent of the handsome officer.
"Mmmm… wow… these boots are ripe! God your feet smell so damn sexy." Wilbert said.
He then pulled the pants and briefs off Brandon's ankles and then finally the thick wool socks.
Wilbert was greeted with Brandon's flawless, pinkish soles covered in some white powder and completely wet with sweat.
"Oh wow…" He commented.
"This must be it huh?" He added, taking Brandon's right foot and looking at it closely to his face.
"Please…. please scratch it." Brandon said.
"Oh this is too damn hot. Wow… I have an idea." He replied. Standing up and retrieving something from the table at the corner.
"I will scratch your feet alright. But only with this!" He said. Holding up a plump, white, goose feather next to Brandon's feet.
Brandon looked on but instead of being panicked, thrust his feet straight into Wilbert's lap. He couldn't care less what it was. Even if it was a feather. He needed something, anything, to make contact with his feet.
"Eager eh? Alright. I won't let you wait anymore."
Wilbert touched the feather's soft tip to Brandon's quivering toes. He slowly dragged the feather down Brandon's right arch making the gentlest claws through his very sensitive soles. The sudden sensation emmitted very loud, appreciative moans from the handcuffed cop.
"Ahhhh…. Ohhhh…. shit….!" Brandon sighed, the pleasure of a twirling feather mixing with the incredible itch.
"Haaa… HHaaa… please….. you have to scratch it!" He added.
"No. I won't scratch it. Get used to the feather, this is as far as you will go tonight with relieving your itch." Wilbert replied.
The gentle tickle of the goose feather was not enough to cancel any of the itch. It was merely adding a tickle to the sensation. And mixed together, it delivers the most intense signals of pleasure to Brandon's brain.
"Oh god… Oh god…." Was all Brandon could say as Wilbert took both feet now on his lap and was twirling the feather in between his toes, around the base of his toes, down the arch to the heel, and back up again.
Wilbert's crotch was completely tented with a hard-on. He could not believe how erotic it is to slowly tickle this cop's sexy feet. Wilbert, being a gay prostitute, has developed a fetish for law enforcement officers. His constant brushes with the law has made him develop a horny eye for these stoic, serious, and incredibly sexy men.
Wilbert continued playing with the ticklish soles of the naked and helpless officer. He was completely lost and the rush of having complete access to Brandon's muscular body was making him light-headed.
To be continued…
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