Interactive: Pikesburg PD, ch. 5 (Patreon)

Johnny pulled his cruiser to a stop outside the bar and sighed.  This wasn’t his favorite kind of call.  He wanted to be cracking skulls and throwing criminals in jail, not responding to noise complaints.  He wasn’t interested in the law, It was the thrill of the job that he loved.  He wanted to use his brawny body to wrestle someone to the ground and keep them there.  He lived for the feeling of slamming a cuffed perp against his car or digging his knee into their back.  It was why he never went after a promotion; the thought of sitting behind a desk all day sounded like torture.  He wanted to be where the action was.  

Stomping towards the doors of the bar, he couldn’t help but think that was somewhere else at the moment.  Bright lights flashed against the diffuse film covering the door from the inside and Johnny could hear a faint pulse of dance music, but it didn’t seem loud enough to generate a complaint, especially considering that there didn’t seem to be any residences nearby.  He threw the doors open and muscled his bulldog frame through the crowded room towards the bar.  

“Fuckin’ queers,” he muttered under his breath at the sea of dancing, shirtless men who greeted him.  He avoided eye contact with the ones who looked in his direction, not wanting anyone to get the wrong idea about why he was there.  Johnny didn’t mind working in the gay part of town as long as everyone knew where he stood, and the few men who’d been unfortunate enough to flirt with him quickly learned why that was a bad idea.  

He shouldered his way to the bar, increasingly aware of the growing number of eyes on his beefy, uniformed frame.  “Hey!” he yelled, trying to get the bartender’s attention.  He scoffed at the sculpted young man pouring drinks wearing nothing but a pair of tiny running shorts, thinking that he could show these guys what a real man looked like.  

Even as he thought it, his head started to spin.  There was a rush of warmth that fell over him and he staggered on his feet, leaning against the bar until the room stopped swaying around him.  “He...Hey!” he yelled again, the odd sensation passing as quickly as it came.  

This time the bartender noticed him, but only pointed over towards the DJ booth at the corner of the stage.  “You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” Johnny grumbled, pushing his way through the crowd to the other side of the bar.  He couldn’t find a way up to the booth aside from the stage, and at this point he was so annoyed that he wasn’t about to keep looking.  He climbed up, intending to storm over and pull the plug, but before he could make it more than a few steps the music stopped.  

Johnny froze when all eyes turned towards him.  He cleared his throat and puffed his beefy chest out to look imposing.  “Alright,” he yelled, the flashing lights reflecting against his bald scalp.  “we got a noise complaint.  I know everyone’s just here to have a good time but we’re going to have to turn the music UP.”  

It was only after the raucous cheer that Johnny realized what he’d said.  The older man shook his head and cleared his throat again, spreading his meaty arms and motioning for the crowd to be quiet.  “Sorry...what I meant to say was that we’re going to have to turn the music waaaaaaay up.”  

The roar of the crowd was drowned out by the sudden return of the pulsing dance music, but Johnny was more concerned by his reaction to it.  Instead of stomping over to the DJ booth or climbing off the stage, he felt his stocky hips starting to sway as he slowly looked the crowd over, not liking the eager, hungry stares he saw looking back at him.  Every part of his brain was telling him to get off the stage, but his body clearly had other ideas.  

Betraying none of his internal confusion, Johnny’s hands lifted to his shirt, slowly undoing the buttons until the wiry hairs covering his slab-like pecs could be seen through the opening.  The crowd exploded again as soon as the furry patch was exposed, urging him on as he casually undid the rest.  Johnny couldn’t believe any of this was really happening when he, in time with the music, rolled his broad shoulders and slowly let the shirt slide down his beefy arms, leaving his burly pecs and wide muscle gut on full display.  He felt himself grin when the shirt dropped free and he flexed his piston-like arms behind his shaved head, still swaying his hips in time with the throbbing music.  

Johnny was mortified when those hands dropped, one of them kneading a plump pec while the other groped his heavy package through his pants.  He begged his fingers to stop undoing his belt while he continued to flash a smug grin and gyrate in front of the lustful crowd.  Like everything else that was happening, Johnny didn’t understand where this sudden grace came from.  His movements should have been as lumbering and plodding as his broad body would suggest, yet here he was, rhythmically moving in time with the fast paced music.  He flexed his abs and popped his hips like he was fucking the air itself, causing a growing pile of dollar bills to start landing on the stage.  

While he was looking down at the money he noticed his feet join in the mutiny, betraying him as they kicked his shoes off to make way for his lowering pants.  Johnny had been so focused on the money that he hadn’t noticed his fly being opened until he felt the sudden rush of air on his bare cheeks.  The crowd went wild when his meaty, trunk-like thighs and round, full cheeks were exposed, leaving him in nothing but a small, bulging black thong.    

The burly stud didn’t understand that, either.  He knew he should have had on a pair of boxers, not a thong so small it barely covered his stout cock and left his heavy balls spilling out the sides.  

There wasn’t time to wonder.  Free of the confining uniform, his body went into overdrive.  He turned his back on the crowd and started popping his hips again, bouncing and twerking the solid mounds of his ass in expert fashion.  The shaking of his hips caused his straining pouch to slap violently up and down, letting his fat cock slip free.  Johnny screamed at himself to get off the stage, or at least find some kind of cover, but instead he turned back to the crowd, giving everyone a full view of his wide, twitching pole.  

He felt it start to harden as soon as it spilled free and now added the rigid organ it to the list of his betrayers.  His thick, solid cock bobbed before him, wagging like an excited tail with the slightest movement.  Considering how he was writhing and gyrating on stage, that left it slapping against his thighs and muscle gut constantly, a growing, shiny spot of ooze developing at the tip.  

Though the burly cop was confused and terrified, the crowd loved every second.  They ate up the sight of his thick, stocky muscles bouncing and swaying, and he wasn’t done yet.  The final humiliation came when he turned his back to the crowd again and pulled the useless thong down his firm quads, slowly bending and exposing his hole to the entire group before dropping to his knees and falling forward on all fours.  Still keeping time with the music, he dropped and started humping the stage, grinding his throbbing pole and flexing his ample cheeks, picking up speed until he flipped over onto his back and launched a stream of sticky fluid up onto his heaving chest.  

**********

“Guuuhhhh!”  Greg jerked back in his seat, gasping for air.  He’d just started his shift when the visions hit him again.  He was trying to wrap his head around what happened with him and Tank earlier in the day when the medallion burned against his chest and he felt like he was pulled from his cruiser.  He just managed to pull the car to a stop when he was suddenly floating over the city, rocketing across town until he saw Johnny’s beefy body clamber out of his car and head into a bar.  His disembodied vision was pulled along behind, and before he knew it he was watching the older man go through a striptease that culminated with Johnny’s naked body vigorously fucking the stage and cumming in front of a cheering crowd.  

“What the fuck is happening,” Greg panted, clutching the medallion through his shirt.  He’d already seen one friend’s package grow to impossible size and the world apparently change to make such an alteration normal.  And that was before the two of them decided to explore that change in intimate detail.  

His behavior was almost as jarring as the change itself.  Greg always thought of himself as straight, and he knew Tank was, but then again he also knew Johnny should be too.  Given what he’d just seen, though, that didn’t appear to be the case at the moment.  

Greg grabbed the radio, a knot in his stomach.  “Dispatch, how’s Johnny doing?”  The following pause felt like it lasted for hours.  

“Who?” the voice crackled back at him.  

“Johnny,” Greg said again.  “Tough looking guy. Works the beat on the West side tonight.”  

Another pause.  “Sorry, we’ve got Tony working the West end.  Has for the past couple months now.  No Johnny.”  

Greg’s hand shook so bad he could barely press the button on the side of the mic.  “Mu...must have heard wrong.  Thanks dispatch,” he stammered.  Not knowing what else to do, Greg sparked his lights and siren to life and sped off towards the bar, hoping to catch his partner before he left.