Part I: Rage & Preparation

Like a lot of gay young men, and a lot of older ones for that matter, I like to play the field. Dating a lot of different guys. Some become friends and we do social stuff together. Some become fuck buddies and it’s just one or the other most of the time. Some become both; you’re not really lovers, but you’re more than friends.

Bath houses, video arcades, sex clubs, and parks and the woods. Yeah, I guess you could literally say that I liked to play the field, literally! I love what they call “public venues.” At least the way I describe it. The baths, arcades, and sex clubs are all private places. Parks and wooded areas I choose carefully.

You might say I’m an exhibitionish, but I’m a selective exhibitionist. I just enjoy an appreciative audience. I don’t want to be seen by anyone who doesn’t want to watch. No women, no kids. No up tight straight guys. No, when I go to the parks or the woods its to the areas that only attract guys that are looking for sex with other guys, and occasionally the police. The cops, pigs, shit eating shit head pigs. Not all of them. Specifically the ones who are too cowardly, too lazy, and too inept to go out and solve real crimes. They have no business in these areas unless there’s some queer bashings going on. And then they should be in uniform and should ignore any consensual sex they happen to encounter.

Shit, I’ve met gay cops in a number of different places. A few were dick heads and given the chance to get away with it I’d cut their balls off in a New York minute. Even the ones working vice told me that they would only arrest people who were working the streets, especially in residential neighborhoods. They catch two people, two guys, two girls, a guy and a girl, going at it in the back seat of a car and they’d just embarrass the heck out of them, give them a verbal warning and tell them to go get a room.

One cop said he had a sense of humor about it. Kinda warped, but still funny. One night he drives through the parking lot of a very fundamentalist right wing church and in the very back, under a tree, away from the security light is a dark colored car in the corner. Now it’s not unusual for two people to meet somewhere, leave one car and go somewhere together in the other. But somehow he got some vibes to check it out. So, he parks at the other end, quietly gets out of his car and slowly walks over.

And there he finds two sixteen year old boys in the back seat buck naked fucking like rabbits. He said he would have been happy to just watch, but the windows were slightly tinted and even though the security light was at the other end of the lot, there was still some glare on the window.

So, he takes his flashlight and taps on the window pretty hard. The two boys practically levitated in fear. They started rummaging around for their pants.

“Just open the windows and leave your clothes alone and there won’t be any trouble.”

One of the boys opened the window.

“Having fun, boys?” the cop asked.

“Uh, no sir,” one of the kids stammered.

“No?” the officer replied. “If you’re not having fun that means that one of you must be forcing the other and I’m going to have to arrest someone. And maybe send one to the hospital for a rape test. So, just what is going on?”

“Well, I guess we were having fun, while we were alone.”

“I see. How do you feel about being watched by a cop if it means we all leave here like nothing ever happened?”

“Uh, I dunno. Okay, I guess,” they answered.

The officer checked their ID’s. “Well, look boys, here’s the way it’s gonna work. You’re both sixteen, which is legal in this state, and personally, I consider this a private act, which means it’s not illegal. But most other cops and the people who own this church would not look at it that way. So, you’re free to go. Next time do it at home when your parents are out or spring for a cheap motel room down on Broad Street.

“But, if you’re interested in putting on a little show and making a dull evening fun for a cop who sympathizes with your situation, just put on your shoes and step behind the big dumpster over there and let me watch while you finish what you were doing.”

One of the boys slowly grinned at the cop and then looked at his friend. “Well, if we ever have gay grandkids this will be some story to tell them!” They both giggled, hurriedly put on their shoes and stepped behind the dumpster where the cop used his powerful flashlight to spotlight the show.

They both got hard and one began fucking the other one while his friend jacked off. After a few minutes the top pumped his load into his friend and left his dick inside him while he jerked off.

The cop gave the boys some cash and said, “Like I said, next time get a room.”

“Yes, sir!”

“And I’m not the only cop who patrols this area, so don’t get any ideas about coming back here for your fun and games.”

***

But like I said, there were also the shit head cops. And they were starting to raid the wooded area of a local park late at night. Easy pickings and not anyone there to be “offended” except the cops themselves. I started hearing about it right away because I was volunteering at a local gay hot line. And soon the gay press picked it up. Fortunately, I lived in a large city and the local paper didn’t always bother with such stories anymore, thanks to pressure from the gay community and smaller papers. And now if they did cover the stories they did not print any names.

One weekly radical paper did print names, however. The names of the cops. They also sent reporters to the courthouse to identify them and then took pictures of them later when they left, using telephoto lenses while sitting in a van.

Wisely, they did not publish the pictures in the papers. But social networking soon had people all over town talking about the anonymous web sites that had the pictures and info about the cops. And soon people all over the country were logging on. And as soon as one site got shut down another would go up. Actually, several sites were set up at once. As one got shut down, then another one would be publicized.

Things got worse in the park. And they started making walkthroughs of the arcades.

Officer Greane was the ring leader of the cops. Officers, Graye and White were his main cohorts. There were others, but from the reports I got they were reluctant helpers that Greane coerced.

But one entrapment was one too many. Like I said before, the only guys there in the woods at night were guys looking for sex. But the STD vaccines had all been approved and were available to everyone, so the old public health thing was a dead issue. Sure there were still the public health warnings that there were probably other sexually transmitted diseases like AIDS that had not been transmitted to people yet, but while it was logical, there was no evidence of anything being on the horizon, so few people were concerned enough to take any precautions.

Besides, gay marriage was now legal in twenty states and it was only a matter of time till the so-called Defense of Marriage Act was going to be repealed. And while two gay guys getting married does not necessarily mean total monogamy studies show they cut down a lot on the number of other guys they have sex with. And if they have kids it drops a lot more.

But enough of that. I wasn’t ready for that stage of life yet. Back to the immediate problem.

I frequented a lot of the local gay bars, as well as the above mentioned venues. My favorite was the Eagle’s Nest Saloon. While not a body builder, I worked out regularly and was pretty buff. What made me stand out was my total lack of tattoos, piercings, and body hair. The first two were easy. I just hand not had any done. The last was pretty easy, too. I had an informal group of friends and fuck buddies that got together every two or three weeks to wax each other’s bodies. It was whatever you wanted. No rules about what you had to have done to be part of the group. It was just that if you wanted to have it done you had to learn how to do it and help do the other guys. Some guys had hairy chests and hairy backs and just wanted their backs done, and maybe their chest hair trimmed with clippers. Me, I was clean shaven and got myself waxed down to the top of my thighs. For some guys it was the entire body, ass crack included. I like eating ass. I love eating ass, among other things. But I want it clean and hairless, but I digress again.

Closing time in our city was 2:00am. No exceptions. Last call was at 1:30at the Nest, as most people called it. Most bars it was at 1:45, but at the Nest, you had to be out the door by 2:00 sharp. At that point the crew went through picking up all the glasses, beer bottles and trash and cleaning the place out and making sure everyone had left. Then they closed and locked the accordion gates around all the bars and opened the gate that had surrounded the soft drink bar. And the kitchen was already gearing up. Nothing fancy, just burgers, wings, fries, etc.

Now the Nest became a private, members only club and people were admitted a few at a time through three different doors at the back. So, with no booze and no fancy food being served, what was the draw? Sex. Lots of sex. About the only rule was that you had to wear clothes and thoroughly wash your hands before entering the food and soft drink area. The place was always crowded, but with the volume of guys there they could keep the cover charge pretty low and still make a lot of money.

And with it being a private club the cops would have to have a warrant to enter. The health department was not a problem. The kitchen and eating area always surpassed the requirements and they always got an A+ when inspected.

But, if by chance the lights quickly went from dim to bright you knew to get dressed and stop having sex.

Okay, I digress yet again.

The Nest was the perfect place to find guys who wanted to do something about Officer Greane and his friends. It would take a while. Fantasy cop killing is one thing. Really doing it is something else.

Besides, I had no intention of killing anyone. Not something I would even joke about. I think it’s wrong. Now killing part of someone, well, that’s something I might consider. And the Nest was the perfect place to start finding people.

The thing about the Nest was that while it was a leather, S&M, B&D bar, everyone was welcome during business hours. Women would come in with gay friends. Even venturesome straight couples would come in. Drag queens would drop by after their acts were over.

But at 2:00am for the private membership club it was guys only in guy attire. Leather, jeans, hell even executives in slacks and button down shirts who had worked late were okay.

So, I began to talk to guys who seemed reliable, steady, and sane about how something needed to be done about these crazy cops who were setting out to ruin the lives of guys who were just out for a little fun. And I would overhear guys talking about it and edge my way into the conversation.

There was also a small subset of guys who hung out at the Nest. It was the castration group. There was just a handful of guys who were actually castrated that I knew of. They would run around naked after hours looking to service hot guys while others watched. Most of them had had it done pretty young and looked a lot younger than they were. A couple looked like fourteen, but while the drinking age was still 21, it being a non-alcohol private after hours club you only had to be eighteen.

Some guys got queasy around the eunuchs, but usually got used to it. And if you had any pederastic leanings it was hog heaven if you could get one interested in you.

And there were the eunuch wannabes. They ranged from the voyeurs who would only watch, or watch and jerk off, to those who would slip a eunuch some money to let him engage in some body worship. Some of the eunuchs were not taking hormones, or just enough to maintain proper bone density, etc. Others were obviously on full hormone replacement. It didn’t matter. Everybody could find someone to hook up with. And not a few couples met there.

So, it was not uncommon for someone to say something like, “Someone ought to catch those cops and castrate them.” And I would slowly and quietly begin to find out just how serious they were and how far they were personally willing to go to get it done.

The arrests slowed down, but that only meant that you never knew when they might be in the park. But I got my crew, and supplies assembled.

All black clothing. Ninja masks, black ski masks, ropes, nets, restraints, tasers, catheters, elastic bands, banding device, and a few other odds and ends. Oh yes, and a warehouse. A large warehouse. Complete with cells, and an operating room. Some of the equipment was used. But still quite serviceable by all contemporary medical standards. Not to mention the cell phones (all throwaways), and all the computer equipment. It was hard to imagine how a room full of computers and servers had now been compacted into something about the size of a filing cabinet or two.

And, we had backers. Financial backers. Some knew each other. Some remained anonymous. But all expected a return on their investments — either money or, well how shall I put it? Satisfaction. More about the return on the investment later.

There was a full moon that night. But it was cloudy, too. Completely overcast. You might think that would make it darker, but it actually helped. The clouds reflected a lot of the ambient light from the city so even late into the night visibility was high.

We had interviewed enough victims to know where Greane and his cohorts liked to make most of their entrapments and were set up. They would pretend to be groping each other’s crotches and when a third person approached one would nod to him and when he came over and reached for a crotch they would arrest him. Instead of them being the bait for an arrest one of our guys was going to be the bait for their capture.

However, another guy came into the picture and fell for their trick before we could do anything. No matter. As soon as Greane pulled out his badge we dropped the net and all three of them fell to the ground. We sprang into action and tazered the two cops, pulled the net off and told the they were about to arrest not to be afraid. Just get the hell out of the woods and not tell anyone he had been there or what had happened. Fortunately, we had gotten the two pigs before they had arrested him or looked at his ID. And even though the light was excellent that night there was no way they could pick him out of a lineup.

We quickly had the two pigs bound and on two poles, two guys on each end of each pole carrying them out of the woods like hunters might carry out a deer or moose they had killed in the wild. Two bad we couldn’t strap them naked over the hood of a pickup and drive around town!

We had their badges, guns, handcuffs, and radios, too. Two pigs down and one to go. The third guy drove the unmarked car they drove. He always stayed in the car. The question was whether to get him, too, or be satisfied with the main offenders. But on the other hand he was as much a part of the operation as the others.

We were on our way back to the van when one of the pig’s radios clicked. No voice. Just some clicking and then silence.

Our captives were regaining consciousness and were having muscle spasms as we carried them up the trail. Their mouths were taped shut.

“Put them down for a minute,” I said.

I lowered the mic for my voice modulator. We all had them and they were all set to sound alike — electronic. And we had practiced in clipped phrases.

I pulled the tape off one cop’s mouth. “What does that mean?”

“What does what mean?” he said.

“Don’t play games with me, shithead We’ve got your guns, cuffs, radios, and badges. What does the clicking on your radio mean?”

“Fuck you, faggot.”

“Wrong answer, pig.” I turned to a couple of guys on my team. Mics down and on. Undo his legs, then spread ‘em and hold ‘em apart.”

“You’re not going to castrate him here are you?” one of my team asked.

“It’s tempting, but I’ll go for the delayed gratification. Of course if he doesn’t he’s going to wish I had castrated him.”

With that I stepped between his spread legs and kicked him in the crotch. The pig moaned involuntarily.

“Now that’s just a taste of what’s to come if don’t do as instructed? Now tell me what does the clicking on the radio mean?”

“Go to hell, pervert!”

“Okay,” I said, “position the other guy the same way.” Then I kicked Greane’s partner in the crotch, too, but harder. Then I stepped back and gave Greane another good one.

They were wearing sweats. We pulled their sweat pants down to their ankles and I pulled out my knife and cut their underwear off.

“Okay, look, we don’t have all night. Well, actually, we do have all night, just not here. So, here’s your choice. I can kick and stomp your balls till they are turned to mush, or I can just cut them off and leave you here to bleed to death, or you can make it easy on the both of you and simply answer my questions. What does the clicking on the radio mean?”

He didn’t say anything. I leaned over and gathered up his big balls in my hand and twisted them half a turn. Then a full turn. They hung low enough even with having been kicked that I wasn’t causing any pain. And at that point It was fine if I wasn’t.

“Nice,” I said. “Very nice. Some of the biggest ones I’ve ever seen. They would look great in a jar of preservative. I bet they would taste pretty good, too. Slowly grilled, then sliced and served with a dash of barbeque sauce.

“So, what’s it gonna be. We make mush out of your balls, yours and your buddy’s here, we castrate you, or you answer our questions?”

The other cop starting trying to talk. I ripped the tape off his mouth.

“Tell him or I will. I’m not giving up my balls!

“The third officer, the one in the car we use, clicks the radio on and off a few times when he wants us to call in. If we don’t he assumes that we are about to make an arrest.”

“You tell him your partner twisted his ankle and you need his help. Your car, a white Buick, backed into an old driveway, is being watched. So, don’t say any code words to him or he’ll be in the same situation you are.”

I took the radio and clicked it on and held it to his mouth.

“White, Tommy twisted his ankle and fell. Come help me get him back to the car.”

“We need an ambulance?”

“No, he needs an x-ray. But we can drive him. Don’t want any official vehicles down here to jeopardize future operations. Just meet us at the main path and help us back to the car.”

“Okay, I’m on my way.”

We were about half way back to the van. We retaped the pigs’ mouths. I sent one of the team back with the tazer. He put on a hoodie and sunglasses. Then I got on our radio.

“Sixteen, once the cop is five minutes away from the car, set the explosives.”

“Copy that.”

We continued with our captives and were just below the parking lot where the van was positioned, backed up to the one of the smaller, narrower places where the trail started. Then my radio came on.

“One, this is Two. I’ve got a situation here.”

“Fill me in, quick version.”

“I tazered the pig, cuffed and gagged him.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“Not exactly a problem. But he isn’t any ordinary cop. He spends a lot of time at the Nest. Including time after hours. He’s got a thing for the nutless boys. I’ve seen him jerking off while he paws them.”

“Can you get him off the trail?”

“Not by myself. This cop is one big pig. About six feet tall and at least a hundred pounds overweight.”

“Does he have his badge, other ID or gun on him?”

After a pause, “Affirmative on all three.”

“I’m sending two agents. Keep your face covered, except for your eyes. If anyone comes along flash his badge and tell them to get the hell out unless they want to get caught up in major drug bust.”

“Affirmative.”

“I need two volunteers who want to band a big fat closeted pig who spends time at the Nest.”

Everyone volunteered. I chose two young eunuchs. One was a eunuch by choice. The other had been born with undeveloped, undescended testicles that had to be removed shortly after he was born because there was a high risk of his developing cancer.

“Get him off the trail. Cut his pants off. Put three of the tightest bands around his nuts, tazer his cock, cover him with leaves, put some rocks or a small log on the trail near where he is and spray paint is orange.”

They took off with their supplies. A couple of us went up to the top. There were two cars at the end of the parking lot.

I walked around the edge of the lot next to the trees and crept up to the car. At first it looked empty. Both front seats were reclined. The guy in the passenger seat was giving the driver a blow job. I rapped on the window and flashed one of the badges we had confiscated.

The driver opened his window.

“No problem, boys. Go ahead and finish what you were doing. Go ahead, suck him off. I want to see cum running down your chin. Do it!”

Lot’s of things can make your dick hard. Usually you think of sex with someone you find attractive, or a pill, or porn. But fear can make it hard even though you usually think of it making you lose a hard on. They both got hard and they both got blow jobs.

“Good job, boys! Now, three things. One, as you will probably find out in a day or two, I’m not a cop. Two, you are not going to want anyone to know that you were here tonight. So, each of you take a vow of silence about being here. And three, this area will probably be crawling with cops before long. So, get out of here without drawing any attention to yourselves. Bye, bye!”

The guy on the passenger side got out and walked quickly to his car. Both slowly drove out of the parking lot and down the street.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, or should I say, back at the raunch, my two boy agents were meeting up with my number two agent with the pig closet fag cop.

Since all our voices were modulated to the same electronic sound I couldn’t always tell who was saying what, but that was part of the plan. It was highly implausible that anyone was monitoring our conversations since they were over modified cell phones using a scrambled signal.

“Has anyone come by?”

“No, fortunately we’ve been alone. So, no complications.”

“Have you been able to spot a good spot to put him when we have him fixed?”

“Yeah, it looks like there’s a small trail right over there into those vines. We can cover it up with some branches. When we’re ready we can call in his location on his own radio.”

“Okay, piggy, this is what is going to happen. We’re going to castrate you. Ever thought about becoming a eunuch? Actually, we’re not going to cut your balls off. But, if you’re going to continue living you’re going to want the doctors to do it. Shouldn’t be too much of a change. You’re so fat you already have tits.”

“Let’s take a good look at you. Don’t worry. I’m just going to use this knife to cut your clothes off.”

(electronic sounding laughter)

“Not much there.”

“Give the boy the benefit of the doubt. He’s scared. It’s like when you’ve been in cold water.”

“Well anyway, he doesn’t have much to worry about losing, any way you look at it.”

“Well, we need to get going. Who gets to do the honors? Rock, paper, scissors?”

“Sure. Okay, One, two, three…”

“Wow! Not only did I get to carry the elastrator down here, I get to use it! You guys hold his legs apart.

“Okay, piggy, I know you’re going to want to fight and squirm. But you’d better be still cause if this thing slips you could lose your dick, too. Because if it slips we’re not cutting the band off and starting over.”

“Got anything you want to say before you your balls start dying?”

(Sound of tape being ripped off flesh.)

“Please don’t do this to me. I’ll do anything you want. I’ll give you anything I’ve got. Please!”

“How about you let us fuck your wife?”

“Uh, I don’t know if she would agree to it. But maybe, to save me.”

“So, you are married? How about you suck us off?”

“Okay, yes, if you promise not to hurt me.”

“And you have to agree to quit entrapping guys in the woods. And testify against the cops you help do it.”

“Okay, just let me go.”

“You ever sucked a guy’s dick before? Ever jerked off while you licked a guy’s ass? Remember, we have your complete ID and sooner or later we’ll find out the truth.”

“Okay, yeah, I’ve messed around with guys some.”

“When was the last time?”

“Buddy, you aren’t in any position to have a bad memory. Last week? Last month? Last year?”

“Yeah.”

“’Yeah’? What the fuck does that mean? Answer the question.”

“I do it every once in a while. About once a month. Last time was last week.

“Hold him down, guys. I think he’s telling the truth about sex with guys. But He’s a liar about getting out of the entrapment business.”

“Better tape his mouth back shut.”

One of the eunuchs put the first band on the elastrator, slipped the cop’s balls through and released the band. His muffled screams could be heard in spite of the tape over his mouth.

“Hey, there’s three bands and three of us. Why don’t we each do one! Who wants to be second? Just pull his balls down low and put the band up high next to the first one.”

Teamwork. Sharing. Am I a great leader or what? I love my boys.

All three bands were in place and just before they started to cover him with leaves one of the team pulled out his cock and started pissing on the fat pig. The other two immediately joined in. Then he was tazered again at the base of his cock. The boys watched him flop around. When he settled down again they got ready to leave. Except for his face, they covered him with leaves and twigs. Then they pulled vines over the entrance to the offshoot to the small trail. Three stones were stacked in the middle of the trail and spray painted bright orange.

The trio quickly headed back to the trailhead to rejoin the others who had packed the two captive pigs into the back of their van, the parking lot now otherwise empty.