The Hood of Justice (8 page)

"What's the matter?" Randy snapped.

"It's Peter, sir. He's been compromised."

"Explain." Randy listened with interest while John told him of Casey and his partner's arrival. A smile formed on his lips. His cock stirred, too. Seemed he was going to get some more action tonight, after all. How delicious.

"…So that's the sum of it, sir. He's bringing them to the south entrance as we speak."

"You've done well, John, and you will be rewarded for your loyalty. Now, put into plan the course of action I instructed you about earlier."

John saluted. "Yes, sir."

He watched his guard head for the secret door. His plan was simple. When the cops were inside the building, their backs turned and unawares, John would rush out of his hiding place and ambush them, using the tasers on them Randy had acquired from one of his latest enterprises. The plan was to dispense with Casey's partner. He was then instructed to escort Casey to his office. Randy would deal with the man himself, personally.

Randy came to his office once he was satisfied John was in place, that his plan had the best chance of working. He opened the door to his private sanctuary, the smell of cigars and old wood struck him.

He had to get prepared. Casey would be here soon. His anger had subsided now he knew why the alarm had been tripped. John had done well. The man would receive a substantial pay increase, perhaps even a bonus. Pity Peter wouldn't be a help anymore. Oh well, he'd make a perfect accessory to the fuck harness after he had put Casey into it. He liked to have more than one victim in his dungeon at a time, anyway. Jason was the only one left alive down there at this point in time. Not a good situation as far as he was concerned. 

When he had retrieved his gun, made sure it was loaded, he sat back in his leather chair. Now he would wait.

* * * *

Casey got a strange feeling, right in the pit of his stomach. What's more, his foreskin tingled, so much so, many times he had to scratch himself but not look too obvious he was scratching himself.

"What you doing, buddy?" Bruce whispered, leaning over to say those words into Casey's ear. Thankfully they walked side by side. Peter had taken the lead.

"My foreskin's tingling."

Bruce seemed taken aback for a moment. "What does that mean?"

Casey looked him in the eye. "I'm not sure, but every time it does, it means I'm ready to question any perp. Perhaps it's like a pre-emptive warning or something. I don't know." 

"So what, you're like Spiderman?"

"I suppose." Casey shrugged his shoulders. "But I don't think the tingling is to alert me to any impending danger, as such. Then again, it could be. I'm not sure."

"Perhaps it just means there's a good looking bloke in the area and your dick picks up on it like some sort of radar. I mean, I seen the file photos of Randy Piper. He'd give my Maria female wood, for sure."

"Yeah, he's a looker. Pity he's a psychopath."

Bruce clicked his fingers. "Perhaps that's what you're hood picks up on. The guilty blokes."

Before Casey could answer, add any more to their rather interesting conversation, Peter turned. "We're here. The entrance to Randy's private quarters is through that door."

Bruce barged past the security guard. "We'll handle it from here. Case, show the man the warrant. About time we stopped pussy footing around and arrested this dirty perp. From what you've told us already, Peter, we've got enough reason to haul his sorry arse in for questioning."

A look of confusion crossed Peter's face, his eyebrows knitting. Casey waved the papers in front of his nose. "What did I tell you?"

Casey patted the guard on his shoulder, emulating Bruce. "That he's got a dungeon and the folk who get to go in there don't get to come out. If you ask me, that all sounds like murder. If there's a body in there, we'll have even more evidence."

Peter opened his mouth, closed it, then said, "I don't remember telling you any of this."

Bruce snorted. "Case is a genius." With those words, ones Casey loved to hear, he tested the door handle. It was unlocked.

"Seems funny for a door to a private area to be unlocked, doesn't it?" Casey asked.

Bruce turned to look upon him, his eyes glinting, a smile on his face which made him look frightening. "Oh, you can bet you're nicotine inhaler we're walking into a trap. Isn't it fantastic?"

Casey couldn't help but let out a nervous chuckle. "How do you know?"

"You trust me, don't you?"

"With my life."

"Good." Bruce un-holstered his weapon. "Then believe me when I say, get ready for some action." Bruce pulled the handle and burst open the door, running into the building.

Casey followed.

Inside, there was a long hallway, well lit and clinical. No objects obstructed their path. In fact, nothing could be seen at all except for a door at the far end and one to the right, also at the far end.

 Silence found Casey's ear.

His foreskin tingled even more, almost to the point of hurting. What the fuck was going on? He had never experienced the tingling this bad before. Why was his foreskin doing it now, of all times. He scratched his groin, breaking the quiet.

Without turning, Bruce said, "Your hood still tingling, buddy?"

"Worse than ever."

"Perhaps it's a warning tingle, you--"

Bruce couldn't finish his sentence. From God knows where, and while Casey was momentarily distracted with scratching himself, the security guard they had come to know as John, pounced on him.

"Bruce!" Casey bolted to action, running toward the two men who were locked in a bear hug and rolling around on the floor.

Bruce's weapon flew from his hand, careening across the polished tiles to end up at the doors at the far end of the hallway. Although, his partner wasn't defenceless. He had John in a head lock within a matter of seconds. A heartbeat after that, and even before Casey could get to them proper, he had pulled him around so that he was facing the ceiling, Bruce underneath him.

"Join with him, Case! Join with him!"

Casey got to them. It was true, he could dock with John, Bruce had got him into the perfect position. "It's called docking, you know," he said, coming so he was kneeling at their feet, already at his zipper.

John continued to struggle, to no avail. Bruce was too strong, too well trained. "Okay, whatever it's called, just do it. I don't fancy having this bloke on top of me much longer. He stinks like some cheap hooker."

John yelled out something incomprehensible. Bruce brought one of his arms around so he could silence him, put a head lock on him while restraining him with the other. The hold on the guard wasn't as tight as Casey would have like, the man kicked and thrashed like a child wanting to get out of eating his greens, but still, he had to perform the docking.

He went to Johns pants, unzipped him and found his cock all with one fluid motion. The man was well endowed, not too thick, not too long, and with a long foreskin, too. Perfect to dock with. Then again, what guy wasn't?

The man continued to struggle. Casey had his cock ready, too. All he had to do was make the connection, touch foreskins, to steady the man, so Bruce didn't need to keep restraining him for dear life.

"Can you hurry it up, Case? My arms are killing me, here."

Casey shuffled closer, parting both Bruce's and John's legs so he could get into position, make sure the connection could be made without having to lie on top of John and make matters even more difficult for his partner. Sure, he was getting beaten on his sides by both of their limps as they flailed, but still, he had to accomplish what he set out to do. For his partner's sake at the very least.

As he was about to make the connection, his now erect cock in one hand, John's, flaccid yet easily accessible, in the other, Bruce yelled out, "He's got a weapon. Duck, Casey."

Casey hadn't seen how, but John had managed to get an arm free from Bruce's hold. Perhaps keeping him silent and holding onto him was too much. Whatever the reason, Casey reacted. He didn't know how, didn't fully comprehend what instinct caused him to act, but he did as Bruce instructed. He ducked, just in the nick of time, too. Taser wires zoomed past him, cutting the air so very close to his right ear. Any closer and he would have been stunned, his partner left to his own devices, he'd be certain. In fact, he was sure there was a touch there. Thankfully, not the metallic probe part--the part which conducted the charge of the device.

Casey pulled on John's dick, touching the man's foreskin with his own.

John stopped his struggle.

Bruce sighed relief. "Now all I've got to do is get myself from underneath him, and you can do your thing, buddy. Thank the stars above you didn't get stung by the taser, explaining to the Sarge about you being unconscious with your dick hanging out of your pants wouldn't exactly be my cup of tea, if you know what I mean."

Casey retracted John's foreskin, moving to cover his own over the man's rather large head. When he had completed the join, he massaged he connection. His stomach tingled. John got hard. Although, unlike Peter, John's head didn't engorge to such a large size. Casey's foreskin had plenty of stretch left in it. A good thing, too. If John was a large ejaculator, then he could hold all the fluid without making a mess. 

His foreskin continued to tingle. John's gaze fell to the distance, staring up at the fluorescent lights, the man in the most perfect state to question. Thing was, the taser wires weren't loose, they hadn't fallen harmlessly onto the ground as Casey would have imagined them to have.

Bruce's next words confirmed what had happened. "I think poor Peter's going to be out for a while. The guard must have set this damn thing on its highest setting. Damn lucky you didn't get stung."

Casey didn't answer. He was busy making sure his foreskin sent its magic into John, give him a good dose. The man could prove to be a useful when it came to getting Randy Piper.

Bruce had pulled himself out from underneath John, stood over them, watching Casey work. He sucked in the air through his teeth, rubbing his arm. "I think I've hurt myself."

Concern washed over Casey, so much so he almost removed his hand from the join, catching himself before he did so. He couldn't let John remember this incident. He had to make the man cum. "You okay?"

"Yeah, nothing a bit of physio won't fix. I'm not a spring chicken anymore, you know. Bound to get a few bumps and bruises from scuffling with perps every now and again. And John here was a bit of a weight. Too many frosted donuts, I'd say."

"Did you want me to look at your arm after I've finished here?"

Bruce snorted. "No way. Your hands have touched two bloke's dicks tonight and you haven't washed them. Until you shower, I'll pass thanks."

Casey let out a laugh, knowing full well Bruce was having a lend of him. "You just wait until I'm done with John, I'll show you--now, John, where's Randy Piper hiding?"

"He's in his office waiting for you, Casey."

Bruce snorted again. "That fixes it, I'm getting my gun. You going to be long, buddy?"

"Nope." Casey's reply was true. Already he could feel the pangs of ecstasy rise up within him. John was hard, his breaths short, the look of sheer joy etched onto his face. "Not long at all."

Chapter Eight

Casey climaxed a few moments after John. Unfortunately, the joy was short lived. From one of the far doors, Randy Piper emerged, pistol in hand and looking like he was a man on a mission. Eyes glaring, his smile a scar. Bruce tried with all his might to get his own weapon, but failed. Randy picked it up before he could come anywhere near it.

"So this is your big secret, Constable Watson." Randy gestured at Bruce to put his hands up and turn so he was facing the wall. Bruce obeyed. "Come now, sexually interfering with blokes to make them talk isn't something I thought they taught at the Academy these days. And people say I'm the sick fuck. What I just saw is the epitome of disgusting. You're a fucking freak, aren't you?"

Casey stood up, stuffing his cock into his trousers and zipping up without care about where his cum went…or Johns. He had been caught with his pants down, so to speak, even though he only docked with the security guard so he wouldn't cause Bruce and him any more bother. They had almost become victims to the ambush the man had set up. Imagine if he had succeeded in tasering them. Casey shuddered. They would probably be in that dungeon right now.

"I'm not a freak," Casey whispered under his breath. He automatically reached down to his holster.

Randy raised his weapon, pointing it close to the back of Bruce's head. "Throw your weapon to the ground. Kick it over to me. If you don't do as I say, I'll shoot your partner in his stupid fucking head. It'll be your fault, too. Now step away from John and lie down on the floor nice and slow, hands on your head. Do it."

Casey did as instructed. In that instant, he heard a groan behind him. Seemed Peter had woken from being stunned, the taser wires still connected to him. For a split second everyone's attention in the hallway was directed at the security guard. He looked rough, rubbing his head, but he was alive. He pulled the wires from himself.

That split second of distraction was all Bruce required. As fast as lightning, moving like a man half his age, he turned, kicked and disarmed Randy of his weapon. The gun found the floor with a loud metallic thud, careening across the tiles, the sound echoing through the hallway. Pity Bruce hadn't considered his own weapon. Randy held a gun in his other hand. The kick he performed had taken him off balance for a brief moment. All Randy needed to do was raise his other hand and fire the police revolver. His partner would then be shot with his own weapon. Much to Casey's horror, the bastard did such a thing.

The gun fired. 

Casey yelled, his head ringing from the sound of the weapon's fire, his mind cloudy for a brief instant as he tried to work out what had happened. Tried to fathom the possibilities of Randy's actions. All he played out in his mind, none were good.

Bruce fell to the floor, a sharp yelp accompanying his fall and a sickening thud which made his heart sink. Casey, without thought, without consideration for his own safety, got up and charged toward his partner. He wanted to--no, needed to make sure the man wasn't wounded in any serious way. If he lost Bruce now he wouldn't know what to do. Wouldn't ever forgive himself, either. How would he tell Maria?