Behind Bars (911) (Patreon)

This was a story commission for one of the top tier patrons - hope you all enjoy! It is based on the series 911: Lone Star.

Carlos’ stomach twisted into a knot of disgust as he thought about the events that had led him to spending the past several nights behind bars and awaiting trial for crimes he hadn’t committed. Of course he hadn’t committed any crimes, he was a cop for crying out loud, but nobody in their right mind would believe him if he told them. Not a single soul in the station recognized him as the well-respected cop that he truly was, instead they only saw a dangerous mobster who had organized a series of violent crimes to maintain his power over the city, who would finally end up where he belonged: in jail, and likely for a very long time. 

There was only one person who Carlos could likely get to recognise the true him but the person responsible for putting him in that situation had worked hard to keep Carlos’ boyfriend TK from him. They hadn’t been dating long but in the time that they had their relationship had blossomed quickly and they had each opened up to the other far more than they’d actually planned to. TK knew things about Carlos that he hadn’t shared with anyone and if he could just see the other and reveal that he knew those stories, TK would have to understand what had happened! That, unfortunately, was feeling like more and more of a long shot the longer Carlos was trapped in that small cell.

The operation had been a pretty big deal to begin with. It wasn’t every day that a genuinely threatening crime boss got taken down and Don Fallon was as twisted as they came. Carlos had heard stories of the mob boss’ antics for years, even before he’d joined the force, so when he’d heard about the raid on the headquarters of Fallon’s criminal empire he had volunteered to help lead the charge. Having previously earned the respect of his superiors over a number of high-profile arrests, Carlos was given permission to proceed. It was a choice that he would later come to regret.

Knowing that he was backed into a corner by the Austin police, Don Fallon had taken extreme measures to ensure that he wouldn’t be going down for his numerous crimes against the city. A well connected man such as himself had a long list of favours to call upon and one of those individuals he’d helped out of a messy spot with the law a few years previously was a warlock who specialized in black magic. Fallon didn’t know much about the arcane but he knew that only fools messed around with black magic unless they had serious skill, so he was certain that his warlock friend would be able to help him out of his own sticky situation.

The trap was really quite simple. A single line of black ash had been placed across the doorway of the Don’s office and from there it trailed across the room until it circled the Don’s desk and chair. The moment anyone’s foot pressed against that ash, their soul would be ripped out of their body and transported across the magical ash into the waiting vessel of the Don’s body. Meanwhile his own soul would have safe travel into the body of whichever poor fool attempted to make a heroic entrance upon him. It had been entirely left up to fate - a rare situation where Don Fallon himself wasn’t in complete control - but things had most certainly worked out in his favour. Carlos’ body was everything he could have possibly wanted and more.

The moment his foot had crunched down onto the line of ash, Carlos experienced pain he had never felt in his life. It seemed to come from the very core of his being; a fiery sear shot through him and forced all the breath out of his lungs. For a moment he felt like he was floating. In the next moment he was surging through the air and finally colliding with something solid. His whole body throbbed in pain and his mind was a chaotic mess, scrambled like circuits after an electrical storm. He barely had enough awareness of the world around him to realize he was being pressed down against the desk, his hands being pulled behind his back and the cold metal of cuffs being closed around his wrists. Every part of his being knew that it wasn’t right but his body refused to cooperate. He couldn’t so much as speak.

“This fucker’s high as a kite,” a familiar voice right behind him had said. Carlos would recognise that voice anywhere, even if it didn’t seem possible for it to be speaking at that very moment. It was his own voice! How on earth could he be hearing his own voice without ever actually saying anything? It wasn’t until hours later when he had been roughly shoved in a cell to ‘sober up’ that things finally started to make sense to Carlos and the true horror of his situation sunk in. Even worse, the first person to see him in such a state was the man responsible both for stealing his body and arresting him: the Don!

The identity thief had visited him a number of times since then but his most recent had been the most traumatic for Carlos. The other had brought along something that threatened to completely destroy the last remains of Carlos’ fight. It was a short video on his cell phone which he had been all too happy to play through the bars of the cell with the volume on maximum. It was filmed the previous night, he was informed, and made it completely clear that nobody was going to notice their little exchange. Carlos was forced to watch in silent fury as the crime lord used his body to make love to TK, fucking the smaller man senseless with an aggression that Carlos himself had never dared use with his boyfriend.

The real kicker though was after they had both reached climax and collapsed back onto the sweaty sheets, TK curling up into who he presumed was his boyfriend’s arms. They were both covered in each other’s cum and gasping desperately for breath, their broad chests rising and falling. It would have been a beautiful sight if Carlos hadn’t known the truth about who his boyfriend was actually cuddling up to. The words from TK’s lips that followed hurt the real Carlos far more than any physical blow ever could: “That was the best fuck ever. How did you manage to get even better in bed? God, I fucking love you!”

As the images of what his replacement had done with his boyfriend continued to swirl around his mind, the real Carlos - the new Don Fallon - began to prepare himself to take revenge. Every fibre of his being burned with that desire; a sensation so strong he could hardly believe they were his own feelings. The other man had taken everything from him and when the opportunity arose he was going to take full advantage of all the Don’s connections and resources to destroy the other. Being behind bars was only going to be a minor setback and soon the other would rue the day that he had decided to cross a man of the law like Carlos!