When Matthew had finished, he stood up. The head of his cock was aching, throbbing with pain, but still he had an erection.

He glanced at the cop’s face, but looked away again.

‘You’re a bit of a mess,’ the cop said. ‘You want to clean yourself up?’

Matthew used his hands to scoop the come from his stomach and chest, and the insides of his thighs. He was supposed to eat it, he supposed, and he put his palms up to his face and licked, though he felt definitely ill.

Lukas’ penis, even after an hour or two in Matthew’s stomach, would still be recognisable. He hadn’t been able to chew it, and if he vomited now, then they would know, for certain, that he had done what they thought he had.

As it was, Matthew figured they had nothing. There was no evidence, and they would have to let him go.

And there was no way this cop wasn’t getting in trouble. No way he could do what he had done, hitting Matthew’s cock with a truncheon, and expect to get away with it.

Matthew swallowed, and glanced at the cop again, though he had to look away.

Suddenly, the truncheon was under his chin.

‘Open your mouth.’

Matthew opened his mouth.

‘Wide.’

The cop was looking in his mouth, as though he expected to find something.

‘Put your hands on top of your head.’

Matthew did so, and the cop looked under his arms.

And then he walked around behind Matthew.

‘Put your legs apart.’

Matthew did like he said.

‘Bend forward and put your hands on your knees.’

Matthew took his hands off his head, and did what the cop said, bending forward, and putting his hands on his knees, while the cop was inspecting his arse.

‘Cough.’

Matthew coughed.

‘Okay. Straighten up again.’

Matthew stood up.

‘Put your hands on your head.’

Matthew did like he said.

And then he felt the truncheon, running up the insides on his legs, up one leg, and down the other. And then the cop was brushing the truncheon against his ball sack from behind, pushing his sack from one side to the other, and moving his balls out of the way.

‘They tell me your friend’s lost his nuts.’

Matthew swallowed. And took a deep breath, as he felt the cop’s hand on his sack. The cop squeezed his sack between his fingers and pulled his balls down underneath them.

‘You can’t do this to me,’ Matthew said.

‘What?’

‘You can’t touch me.’

Matthew didn’t know what happened. He knew he had been hit in the balls. He knew he had been hit with the truncheon. But he didn’t understand the pain. It was in his stomach, and his thighs.

He fell forward, falling onto his knees, but he didn’t make it far. The cop had his balls, held firmly in one hand, and he was holding Matthew up by them, pulling them up behind Matthew, into Matthew’s arse crack, as Matthew fell forward.

‘Did I say move?’

Matthew strained to pull himself up, though the muscles in his thighs were quivering.

‘Didn’t you have your hands on your head?’

Matthew put his hands there.

‘Now, you need to understand something,’ the cop said, and he hit Matthew in the balls with the truncheon, though not as hard as he had hit him the first time. ‘I’m a member of the police force.’ He hit Matthew again, a little harder. ‘I’m here to protect people.’ A little harder again.

Matthew bit his lips, and felt the tears streaming down his face.

‘And I don’t like (smack) it when people (smack) disrespect me (smack). You’re not going to say (smack) anything to anyone (smack). Do you understand me? (smack).’

Matthew nodded, and felt the cop remove his hand, though it was followed with the hardest smack yet. The truncheon smacked into his balls so hard that it hurt his perineum. Matthew fell forward. He was on the ground, on his side, and he was crying, and he felt sick.

He just knew he would vomit.

‘Get up.’

Matthew didn’t move.

The cop kicked him. Kicking Matthew’s fingers, which were cradling his balls.

‘I said, get up,’ the cop roared.

Matthew got up, and the cop told him to stand how he had been standing, with his legs apart and his hands on his head. Matthew’s knees were loose. His thighs were quivering. And the last thing he wanted to do was to stand there, when the cop was behind him, and his balls were hanging free between his legs.

Suddenly, he felt the truncheon on his inner thighs again, running up one, and down the other, and gently circling his ball sack, which felt like it was on fire, like it was filled with something as heavy as gold.

And then, the head on the truncheon was going upwards, into Matthew’s arse, and finding his arsehole.

The policeman put a hand on Matthew’s shoulder and whispered in his ear.

‘Are you concealing anything?’

Matthew shook his head.

The policeman twisted the head of the truncheon a little, and applied a bit of pressure.

‘Are you sure?’

Matthew tried to nod, though he felt the truncheon being pushed a little harder, and twisted. It wasn’t going to matter what he said. The guy was going to thrust it up his arse.

The guy moved his hand down, off Matthew’s shoulder, sliding it down to Matthew’s waist. And he held Matthew firmly, while he rammed the truncheon into his arsehole.

There wasn’t any lubricant, and it hurt like hell. The head was larger than the rest of the truncheon. It was tapered, like a baseball bat, and after the head had gone in, Matthew felt the rest of it, sliding in easier, though the cop kept thrusting it, until it was way up Matthew’s arse, and he felt the cop’s fingers around his arsehole.

He had the whole truncheon, all twelve or fifteen inches of it, way up inside himself. Matthew felt as though something inside himself would rupture. He was scared to move. He had seen something once, about how you could kill a person by shoving something up their arse, and he supposed he could easily die.

‘Okay. Get down on your knees.’

Matthew tried to do what he said, but he couldn’t.

The cop held him under his arms, and lowered him.

‘You think you can keep that safe for me for a moment,’ the cop said, once Matthew was on his knees, the truncheon still firmly in his hole.

Matthew nodded.

The cop moved around, in front of Matthew, and opened his fly. He wrestled with his underwear and brought out a cock that was almost as large as Matthew’s, Matthew supposed.

He pressed it forward, against Matthew’s lips, and Matthew opened them. He was going to have to do it.

The cop put his hands in Matthew’s hair, behind his head, and drove Matthew’s face forward, thrusting all of his cock backward, into Matthew’s throat.

Matthew started sucking. He didn’t know why, but after a minute or two, he put his hands up, onto the cop’s arse, and held it, while he worked forward with his mouth.

The cop was so big. His arse was so powerful. Hard, like something solid, though Matthew could feel the muscles shifting underneath it, while in his own arse, he felt the truncheon, sliding with every movement he made, slowly past his sphincter, inch after inch, and making him feel like he was shitting himself. Between his legs, his balls felt like jello in his sack. And his cock was hard, dripping precum, its head a massive source of heat.

Matthew felt as though he was shitting and pissing and coming and having his balls mushed and sucking all at once. It was too much, and as the cop came, he drank it, wrapping his arms tightly around the cop’s arse and holding him while Matthew blew his own load between the cop’s legs.

It hurt like hell, pumping from his head, his balls jiggling, and the truncheon in his arse. He held onto the cop, hugging him, and felt the guy’s cock growing soft in his mouth.

If only he could stay here. He would do what the cop said. He would do everything he said. If only he could stay here, with the cop’s cock in mouth, and be allowed to hug him.

The cop pushed him away, and Matthew sat back down on his heels, only remembering the truncheon as he felt it hit the ground. He stopped himself. He couldn’t sit down on it. It was halfway out now.

The cop was doing his fly up.

‘Have you got my truncheon?’

Matthew nodded.

‘You want to make it clean for me?’