Interactive: Pikesburg PD, ch. 6 (Patreon)

Greg stood in the crowded entryway, scanning the room for his former partner.  He’d flown across town, sirens blazing, and while he didn’t see another cruiser parked out front, he knew Johnny still had to be in the club somewhere.  Given what he’d learned on the way, he wasn’t surprised at the lack of a car.  

“Ohhh, another one!”  

Greg turned at the sudden hand on his ass to find a trio of fit, shirtless young men gawking at him.  “Sorry fellas,” he said, pulling out his badge, “I’m a real one.”  

“Doesn’t mean you can’t have some fun,” one of them said.  The chiseled brunette stepped forward, his low-riding jeans accentuating his tapering waist and shredded obliques as he put a hand on Greg’s waist.  

“Careful,” the redheaded officer smiled, “touch the gun and it’s a felony.”  

The brunette was coy as they locked eyes.  “Which one?”  

“I…” Greg stopped himself, confused as to why he was flirting with the shirtless man when he should have been looking for his partner.  He shook his head and stepped back.  “...I’m looking for Johnny?”

The handsome young man gave a disappointed sigh and pointed over his shoulder to a bustling corner of the dancefloor.  “He was over there last time I saw him.”  

“Thanks,” Greg said, pushing past the trio and out onto the dancefloor.  

“Are you insane?” one of the men said just before Greg was out of earshot.  “He was a real cop, Billy!  You could have gotten in serious trouble.”

“So?  He was cute,” Greg heard the brunette say as the trio headed off towards the bar.  The addled officer didn’t know why the compliment filled him with pride, or why he’d been so intent on flirting with the other man.  He just wanted to find Johnny and get out of there before anything else happened.  

As soon as he saw his former partner he knew that might be easier said than done.  The stocky bulldog was clad only in a black thong and matching sneakers, gyrating in the middle of a crowd that was eagerly stuffing bills into the thin straps of the skimpy underwear.  Johnny wasn’t showing the slightest bit of hesitation, eagerly writhing in time with the music and teasingly grinding up against the men around him.  

The older man kept dancing even as he saw the young officer.  “Greg?  Greg!  Shit, man!  Am I glad to see you!”  Johnny finally stopped swaying and grabbed the other man by both arms, looking down at his mostly naked body.  “Look at what I’m doing, man!  What the fuck is happening?!”  Greg couldn’t tell by Johnny’s expression whether the burly man was excited or terrified.  “Since when can I dance?  Since when am I good at it?” he asked, turning and grinding his bare, plump cheeks into Johnny’s crotch while he flexed his piston arms behind his head.  He reached back and grabbed Greg’s hands, sliding them down his firm gut until they rested just above the straining, money-filled pouch.  “You can touch it all you want for a small deposit,” Johnny purred in his deep, gravelly voice.  

“John...Johnny, I...we need to talk!”  Greg yelled above the music, not pulling his hands away.  He watched the older man’s expression go from flirtatious to mortified.  

“Christ, kid, what am I…” he let go and quickly stepped away, his broad body turning an embarrassed red.  “Follow me.  We can talk backstage.”  

Greg ignored the jealous looks from the men in the crowd as they passed, focusing instead on Johnny’s ample, shifting rear and how good it had felt digging into him.  He’d wanted more than anything to slip his hands lower when they’d been resting on his friend’s solid stomach, but he’d controlled himself.  He wasn’t sure how many more times he could do that.  Whatever was happening may not have left its mark on him physically, but mentally he didn’t know what he was becoming.  

He followed Johnny into a small room backstage and watched his friend collapse into a heap on the ratty couch.  “Am I going crazy,” Johnny asked, rubbing his face and bald scalp with his meaty paws.  “I got naked up on that stage and jerked off in front’a everyone!  Look at what I’m wearing!  What is this shit?!” he laughed desperately.  “Why does everyone think I work here?  Why does it FEEL like I work here?”  

Greg had to pry his eyes up from the barely concealed package between Johnny’s wide thighs.  “I don’t know what’s happening, man, but it has something to do with that guy I told you about the other night.”  

Johnny’s brow furrowed.  “The little guy?  Fuck me, kid, that feels like a lifetime ago,” he sighed, shaking his head.  

Greg didn’t want to point out how literal that statement might be.  Instead, he filled Johnny in on everything that happened since; the changes to Tank, his own odd behavior, and how he’d had a vision of the older man’s routine up on stage.  

“Wait, wait, wait,” Johnny interrupted.  “What’s so weird about Tank? That guy always had a monster dick.  He can’t help but show it off all the time.  Guy should work here...he’d make a killing.”  

Greg didn’t know what to say.  He’d assumed that everyone who’d been changed would have the same level of awareness, but apparently their insight only extended to their own lives.  “That’s just it, he WASN’T always like that!”  

Johnny sat back on the couch and made room for Greg to join him.  “So you’re tellin’ me that, just yesterday, Tank was hung like you and me?  And he wore normal clothes?”  He blinked rapidly, trying to force memories that wouldn’t come.  “That’s hard to believe.”  

“Any harder to believe than this,” Greg said, plucking a bill from Johnny’s thong.  “Look, Johnny, I...I radioed in on the way over to check on you and...you’re not a cop anymore.  No record of anyone with your name ever being on the force.  But you remember it, right?” 

The older man took a deep breath and stared at the far wall, his face an expressionless mask.  “How am I supposed to know?” he finally said, shrugging.  He hopped up to his feet and started pulling the bills from his straining underwear.  “An hour ago I was terrified.  I was up on that stage convinced that all of this was dead wrong.  But now?”  He motioned down at himself, wriggling his hips.  “This feels right.  I still remember being a cop, but I remember this, too.” He turned and twerked his cheeks inches from Greg’s stunned face.  “How the hell could I do that if this isn’t real?  How the hell could all those guys out there know me if I didn’t really work here?  All I’ve got tellin’ me otherwise is you.”  He tapped the side of his bald head and turned back around.  “There’s a voice up here sayin’ the same thing, but it’s also tellin’ me the Greg I know wouldn’t be ready to blow in his pants right now.”  Greg followed Johnny’s smug grin to the rigid cock outlined against his leg.  “So how do I know you’re real?”  

Greg’s breath was fast and heavy as he stared up at his beefy friend.  “No, Johnny, listen, man, you’ve got it all wrong.  This isn’t how things are supposed to be!  Please!  Trust me!”  

“They aren’t?”  Johnny’s low rumble was a seductive whisper as he leaned over and started undoing Greg’s shirt, popping each button until he reached the younger man’s pants.  “Then how come you’re not stoppin’ me?”  Johnny’s rough hands slid through the wiry red hairs on Greg’s chest as he spread the shirt open, his broad frame towering over the seated man.  He grabbed the medallion and turned it over in his thick fingers playfully.  “Huh...you’re right.  Feels warm, but so does this,” he said, laughing at Greg’s gasp when he reached down and squeezed the younger man’s solid cock through his pants.  

Johnny let the medallion drop and fished Greg’s stunned cock free, taking a step back when the rigid organ was fully exposed.  The addled officer could only look back and forth between himself and Johnny, the medallion feeling like an anchor around his neck that was keeping him in place.  He opened his mouth to protest again, but Johnny put a finger against his lips, silencing him.  

“Keep your hands on the couch and I’ll show you what’s real.”  With a final grin the beefy man launched into a vigorous lap dance, grinding and writhing against Greg with such finesse that even the younger man started to doubt that Johnny ever could have been the lumbering bull he remembered from the force.  The man in front of him was using his muscled bulk in ways the old Johnny never would have dreamed.  Greg gasped and whimpered over and over as the deep valley of Johnny’s voluminous rear swallowed his cock repeatedly, working the aching organ between the solid cheeks only to release it again so that Johnny could grind it against his own stout, solid rod.  When the older man hopped up on the couch and buried Greg’s face between his thighs, the eager ginger hungrilly lapped at the heavy balls, fighting the urge to reach up and clutch Johnny’s granite cheeks so he could hold him in place and suck in earnest.  

Before he got the chance, Johnny dropped to his knees, straddling Greg’s lap and pinning him in place.  Their eyes locked as the stocky man started thrusting, rolling his stomach to work their oozing poles against each other while their bare chests writhed together.  He thrust away, mimicking the sex Greg wished they were having until the younger officer’s churning balls finally let loose and a geyser erupted from his throbbing cock.  

Johnny laughed and kept thrusting until his own eruption a few minutes later.  “That one was on the house,” he said as he slid off Greg’s lap and tossed the younger man a towel to wipe up.  “Next time you gotta pay like everyone else.”  Johnny started to pick up his discarded thong but decided against it, instead sauntering naked back out onto the floor.  

Greg watched his friend leave, still struggling against the weight of the necklace.  It suddenly felt as if it weighed more than he did.  His solid pecs struggled for breath beneath the crushing weight, and he was starting to feel lightheaded.  The room around him started to spin, and just as his vision was flung from his body once more, he heard a slinking, raspy voice fill his head.  

“That’s so much better,” it croaked.  “I hope you don’t mind if I borrow this for a bit.  After all, it’s only fair since it’s my power you’ve been throwing around.”  

Greg could only watch from his disembodied vantage point as a force other than himself caused his body to stand and dress itself.  He paused in the doorway, seeing a stranger’s eyes looking out of his face, directly up at him as if they could see him hovering there.  

“It sounded like there were a few gentlemen out there who wanted to get to know you a little better?” Greg heard himself say in a voice that wasn’t his own.  Unable to respond, he floated helplessly behind as his hijacked body made its way back out into the club.