It’s hard to imagine that it’s this time of the month so soon, Anthony thought to himself. His arrangement with the Nassau County Police Department has been in turmoil ever since the incident with Dani, but so far Chief McCarthy hasn’t raised any concerns. For that, Anthony is glad. He wonders how long it has been since this agreement began. How long have I been having these parties? For years now… Has it really been that long? How many cops have I seen come and go? How many gallons-

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it,” shouted Keith from another room.

Anthony has been lying on his couch, relaxing. He put Beavis away half an hour ago; if McCarthy and the other officers arrived early, he wouldn’t want to destroy Beavis’ innocence. He doesn’t need to know, Anthony thought. No one needs to know.

He could hear Keith greeting Chief McCarthy from the other room. It sounded pleasant enough, but Anthony could hear the fear in Keith’s voice, brought on by the foreboding air McCarthy brought with him. In McCarthy’s voice, he heard eagerness. Eagerness and something else: lust.

“How do ya do, Tony?” McCarthy asked, walking into Anthony’s living room.

“I’m well, Chief. Just want to get this over before too long. Me and Keith just want to get this all over with and have a couple of beers,” Anthony said nervously, as McCarthy and fifteen other police officers filed into the room.

Fifteen! Anthony thought to himself. My God! If I’d known there would be as many as fifteen I would never have agreed to this!

But he knew it was too late. Anthony could have just tried to control the parties, control the drinking, control himself around women. Anthony thought about Dani and if she thought she would be the catalyst for all of this. He also thought about all she knows. His secrets, the skeletons in closet, the arrangement.

“Well Tony, it might only last a short time, but I promise you this: It will be long… And hard.”

As McCarthy said this, he began to slowly undo his belt, revealing his flaccid, uncircumcised penis. Anthony gulps in a manner he thought would be invisible even to McCarthy’s trained eye, but the smirk which appears on McCarthy’s face tells him he was not so lucky.

“Eager to get swallowing, you guinea whore?” McCarthy said. “Me and my boys aren’t ready quite yet. We’ve got a little idea. Something you might enjoy, given your background in broadcasting. We like to call it ‘Live from the Cumpound.’”

"You can’t film it! He never agreed to that!" Keith shouts as two police officers unsheathe a camera and tripod from a nondescript black duffle bag.

"Oh Keith, we can do whatever we want,” McCarthy titters. “We’re police officers. Who are you two? Some washed-up closet fag and a cuckold ex-cop?

"Be thankful that you get to watch this prime piece of ass get serviced,” McCarthy said as he sidled up to Anthony. As the red recording light of the camera flashed on, McCarthy said simply “It won’t suck itself.”

Anthony slowly began to work his tongue around the head of McCarthy’s penis. He felt it inflate in his mouth, growing bigger and harder with each lick. He tasted the steady stream of pre-cum leaking from the tip, and the taste began to work him over. He felt his inner lust rising, a lust that his father, rest his soul, tried to combat, unsuccessfully.

His thoughts turned back to his “girlfriends.” How many of them knew ahead of time? Anthony wonders. Stetten did, I know that much. Dani couldn’t have though, same with Jill. To think they would all just become beards! Anthony knew that this was why women left him. Publically they said it was the alcohol, but this was all part of the arrangement ( that word again, Anthony thought); he would pay them off in exchange for keeping his secret.

His thoughts were interrupted again by McCarthy.

“Now bend over and show me that ass, slut!” McCarthy shouted as he slapped the side of Anthony’s pockmarked face, causing Anthony’s mouth to spit out and begin to leak some of the mix of saliva and pre-cum which had been slowly filling it.

As Anthony bent over, he saw the hungry eyes of the other police officers. All but two were rubbing their cocks, undoubtedly thinking of penetrating Anthony’s rear after their chief was done. The two who weren’t were restraining Keith, who had tears flowing down his face as he watched his boss and friend be defiled by McCarthy.

Shut your eyes, Keith, Anthony thought, but Keith could not read minds and, alas, saw Anthony’s anus slowly stretch as McCarthy’s unlubed (outside of the spit) cock slid slowly in.

Anthony remembered the feeling of being stretched out well. He knew it from when he lost his anal virginity to Richard all those years ago. He told Richard that this was his first time, and while Richard might have been tempted to reveal his secret once Anthony rose to D-list fame, he had died of AIDS before that was possible. Anthony, meanwhile, had been safe enough to avoid the death-virus, in no part due to the clandestine nature of his sexual acts.

Anthony was, of course, a fan of man; he loved the sweaty, garlicky smell of their testicles as he sucked their cocks; he loved the feeling of having his anus stretched by them as they thrust forward, pulling out what little hair remained on his head; he loved the post-coital embrace, as he lovingly stroked his lover’s body. The officers, however, he did not enjoy. They were too rough, and there were too many.

McCarthy began to thrust harder and faster into Anthony’s anus. One hand was spanking Anthony’s aged, wrinkled buttocks; the other was pulling out Anthony’s hair plugs, plugs he received not for superficial reasons, but instead just to feel the rough, sexual pulling that McCarthy gave. Anthony had no choice but to give into his urges.

“Please chief, fuck me harder!” Anthony shouted over the sound of McCarthy’s thighs slapping his ass.

McCarthy obliged, thrusting even deeper.

Slowly but surely, the two of them built up to orgasm. It happened quickly, as it always does for men. Anthony spurted all over his Scotchgarded couch; McCarthy came inside Anthony’s asshole, but still had enough to shoot some onto Anthony’s back and hair.

“Now before I let my boys have some fun, I need to tell you two things,” McCarthy said. “First of all, we’re going to start doing this twice as often. Any objections and we release the tape. And hell, we might even bring some prisoners down here; we all know how much you enjoy big nigger dick, Tony.

“The second thing is a bit more… Personal,” McCarthy said, leaning down to whisper it in Anthony’s ear. “Rich Vos at the Syracuse Funny Bone, April 14–17.”