Officers Ramirez And Kahn Are On Their Way To A Small House A Little Out Of Town When A Man Calls 911

Officers Ramirez and Kahn are on their way to a small house a little out of town when a man calls 911 about an attempted break-in. Just the usual stuff. They have been partners for a while now, working out together in their free time and drinking beer after a long, exhausting shift.

Kahn parks the car in the driveway, the sun setting behind a thick line of trees. He looks around—a few more houses, no people in sight. "Huh." He frowns. "What?" Ramirez lays a hand on his shoulder and smiles. "Nothing. Let's get it over with."

They walk towards the main entrance; the door opens, and a rather young, small man stands there, wearing doctor's clothing. "Hello. Youre Mr. Thomson?" Ramirez says, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, please come in." The man leads the two officers into the living room, where everything is neatly organized and filled with books, flowers, and many different paintings.

"So, why are we here?" Kahn asks, resting one of his hands at his waist while checking his surroundings. "Yeah. Uh. I came home after a long shift and found two windows broken." The man says this, rubbing the back of his head. "One here in the living room, the other further down the back." Kahn and Ramirez exchange a knowing look and nod.

"I'll stay here; you take a look back there." Kahn motions down the hallway, and Ramirez agrees. "Gotcha." The man smiles nervously and stutters. "I- I will show you the way." He says this and leads Ramirez away, through the house, into another, smaller room, a bedroom.

The officer spots the broken glass on the floor, right next to the open window, and takes a step closer. But before he can open his mouth to say something, the man grabs his wrist and pinches his neck. "Officer Ramirez. It's time to let go." The man says, his voice now deeper and more seductive. The cop's eyes go wide, his pupils expand, and his body stiffens.

"Officer. Can you hear me?" The man leans in, whispering into his ear. "Yes. Sir." Ramirez growls. "Good boy. Now sit on the bed and wait for me to return." The man lets go of his body, and Ramirez walks to the bed, sitting down. Running a hand through his hair, the man smirks triumphantly. "One down." It was easy, since Ramirez is his newest toy and easily entranced. Obedient. He went under a few times before, so his body is ready to serve the man.

He makes his way back to Kahn, who is kneeling over some shattered glass, taking pictures. "There you are." Kahn grunts and gets up. "I saw you have cameras." He nods and motions for the multiple cameras around the house. "Oh right, I have the footage on my phone; give me a second." The man pulls out his smartphone, unlocks it, and opens a file. "Take a look." He hands Kahn the phone, and as soon as the officer looks at the screen, it starts flashing wildly, again and again, in various colors and paces. "Whats this?" Kahn blinks a few times but is unable to look away. "It's okay, officer; just keep watching." The man grins deviously and places a hand at the cop's neck, holding him in place.

It doesn't take long for him to start swaying back and forth; his eyes grow heavy, and he breathes deeply. "How does it feel, officer?" Kahn's eyes unfocus as he opens his mouth, drooling. "Warm." Nodding, the man grabs his wrist gently and pinches his neck. "Can you hear me, officer?"

Kahn nods. "Good. From now on, you will enter this state of mind whenever I tell you to let go." Whispering right into Kahn's ear, he breathes against his skin. "Do you understand?" The cop nods slowly and drops the phone. "Yes. Sir." The man lets go of his neck and pats his back. "Good pup." He walks around him, enjoying the build of his newest toy. "We should start training. Follow me." 

He leads Kahn into the back room, where Ramirez is waiting on the bed, drooling. "Stay." Kahn stops in the middle of the room, his eyes foggy and vacant. The man looks for his purse and pulls it out of the tight uniform. "Ramirez, get up and feel Officer Kahn's pecs while you flex, Kahn."

"Yes sir." The two men growl in unison and do as they are told. Ramirez walks up in front of his partner and starts touching him. "Do you like it?" The man says it proudly. "Yes." Kahn is deeply hypnotized and just nods. "Yes," he says in a monotone voice.

"Now, Ramirez. Open his trousers and pull them down."

"Yes sir." He does as he is told, exposing Kahn's briefs. "Ramirez. Get on your knees and make love to his bulge."

"Yes sir." He buries his face into the briefs, kissing his cock through his underwear. Kahn grunts lowly. The right moment The man grabs his neck again, whispering into the officer's ear.

"Officer Kahn. You were born to serve, to please, and to protect. From now on, you will serve me, please me, and protect me whenever I tell you to. You will be mine; you will follow all of my commands without question."

"Do you understand?" The man pinches the officer firmly, making him moan. "Yes sir." 

"Good boys." He looks down at the big stud, making love to his partner. Both of their cocks are tenting harshly.

"Officer Kahn. It's time to finish our first lesson. I want you to focus on this." He grabs a pair of headphones from the nightstand and covers Kahn's ears. He starts the playlist from his laptop, rhythmic music, with many different commands buried underneath.

"Ramirez. Remove his underwear and suck his cock, swallow his whole load, and make sure nothing is left on his skin."

"Yes sir." The officer wastes no time and follows his commands, taking Kahn's long, throbbing cock fully in his mouth. The man smirks, walks around the two men, and starts touching their bodies, pecs, arms, and necks, touching himself while he is at it.

Not two minutes later, Kahn shoots a massive load into Ramirez's mouth, both men moaning slowly. Kahns eyes roll back into his head, his mouth drooling and his nipples piercing through the uniform. "Good boy." He pats Ramirez's head. "Get him dressed, and wash your mouth. Pig." The man grunts.

Now, the two men stand there, and he leads them back to the main entrance. "Officers. I want you to listen closely. I will set you free now, and you won't remember anything that happened today." He searches for Kahn's phone, takes his thumb to unlock it, and plants his number in it. "Kahn. When I call, you take it. You will obey. Understand?"

"Yes sir." He pats his neck firmly. "Good."

He snaps his finger, and the two men blink quickly. They look around and focus on the man. "Thank you, officers; everything is settled." Kahn and Ramirez nod and leave the house.

Turning the hot cop into your slave toy.

Officer Burt couldn’t believe his eyes when he got the selfie. “Must be some kinda mistake,” he thought. But then there was a text: “You might not remember, but you arrested me two years ago. I learned a lot in prison.”

Then another text: “You still looking at my pic? It make your dick hard?” Officer Burt looked down at the bulge in his uniform pants.

“Answer me now.”

Burt knew he shouldn’t but he texted back, “Who are you?”

“Rod Lepage. You remember now? Now, answer me: you like my pic?”

“I do remember, you little scumbag.”

“Now that’s not nice. Especially when you can’t stop staring at my pic.”

And it was true. Burt was still staring at the pic, when the next text came: “You wanna see my dick, don’t you, faggot?”

Burt didn’t know what to do. He should just block this asshole, but, yes, he did want to see that dick. 

“Cat got your tongue, bitch?”

Against his will, he found himself texting back: “Please send another pic.”

Rod responded: “Meet me in the basement at 39 Smith St. Now, faggot.”

Burt knew he shouldn’t, but he headed straight for Smith St.

mass cop conversion

After a successful field test, Officers Bradley, Johnson, Miller, and Phillips were sitting inside their vehicle. It was a pretty exhausting day, doing multiple fitness tests, shooting exercises, and reviewing tactical guidelines.

They are on their way back to the station on a vacant road through the forest, a little outside of town. Bradley has been sitting in the passenger seat right next to his partner for 3 years, Johnson, who's sitting behind the steering wheel. The other two officers are sitting in the back, both of them browsing their phones. He exchanged a knowing look with his partner before shaking their heads and smiling.

As two senior officers, they had to teach the greener cops how to act, what to do, and what to say without causing too much trouble. It was working quite well, but at times, the rookies, especially Phillips, were a bit too enthusiastic.

After a long day at work, Bradley was barely able to keep his eyes open; luckily, he wasn't the one driving. Yet, as he rests his head against the seat behind him, he spots a little bright light shining through the woods.

"That's odd." He growled, drawing Johnson's attention.

"What?" His partner asked before turning his head as well.

Both of them watch the light shine brighter, illuminating more and more of the forest ground.

Now, even the rookies turned their heads, and all four men watched the light approach them, bewildered, before Johnson stopped the car.

"What are you doing?" Miller asked, his voice shaking slightly.

"It could be something worth investigating." Bradley said, looking at his partner.

But then, before any of the officers could react, the light widened even more, engulfing their entire vehicle in a bright, white light.

"What the fuck?" Bradley said, covering his eyes with the back of his hands, as all the others did the same.

Through his fingers, he was able to see a big, shadowy figure approach their car from the front, clearly the source of this bright light.

"Fuck this." Johnson grunted, hitting the horn of the car in frustration.

"Who is this motherfucker?" Phillips groaned, trying to get a better look at the source of light as well.

Shaking his head, Bradley reached for the door, but before he could open it, a weird feeling spread through him.

The air all around them grew thicker, so heavy that it got so much harder to breathe properly. A burning sensation spread across Bradley's skin and eyes; clearly, it wasn't some ordinary light.

"Fuck." Miller groaned as well, and Bradley turned his head to the other officer's. Just by their expression alone, he knew they were feeling the same thing.

With his hands shaking, he reached for the door again, but the pressure on his body just got way worse. Something was pushing him back—some invisible force causing their bodies to stay in place.

"We need....to get out." Bradley's body was pressed against the seat, and he couldn't move a muscle; instead, his body tensed more and more due to the pressure put upon it.

"I can't.." Johnson said breathlessly, obviously feeling the same. "What is this?" His face grimaced in pain, and his voice broke, ending in a silent moan.

Bradley turned his head to find his partner leaning back against the seat, breathing very quickly. Both of his hands are on his chest, clawing at his clothes. He could tell that he was barely able to breathe.

At this time, his breath quickened rapidly as well. As Bradley tried to regain his composure, he looked at the rookies through the rear view mirror, just to see them in a similar state. Phillips looked even worse, sweating and panting heavily while also clawing at his tight uniform. The temperature inside the car rose as well, causing their predicament to feel even worse.

Both rookies looked at him, seemingly asking for help, but there was nothing he could do.

"It's going to be fine." He growled, trying to make the rookies feel at ease, even though he didn't even know what was happening to them.

Bradley shook his head but was unable to avoid the light. His face flushed with color as his skin heated up even more.

Subconsciously, he started to tug at his clothes and his vest, and he somehow managed to remove his helmet, making it a little easier to breathe, just for a second. It dropped to the floor, but the pressure on his chest intensified again.

The light was shining ever so brightly right inside their eyes, but there was something else, something much more dangerous, inmidst those beams of light—another, invisible beam, a force echoing through the entire vehicle.

Just then, Bradley noticed some sort of sound—music or a speech—echoing through the entire car as well. He couldn't understand a word; he just felt a rhythm invading his mind.

"What is that?" He growled, still breathing so fast.

In response, Phillips let out a low moan, with his voice so rough.

The car was rocking slightly, something neither officer had experienced before.

Bradley closed his eyes, all of him focusing, trying so hard to get control, to move, to get out of this car, yet something was stopping him—something now crawling into his mind.

Images appeared—so many different, weird images: men on their knees, men made to serve, men made to obey.

It struck something deep inside him: the sound, the rhythm, that blinding light—all of it was putting so much pressure on his body and mind.

As waves of electricity pulsated through every fiber and every bone of his body, his muscles were the first to react.

Bradley's body grew hard; his muscles bulged against the fabric of his uniform, causing his vest to act as more of a restraint than actual protection.

Unaware, he was now stroking himself, running a hand across his chest firmly through his vest and uniform shirt while trying to calm himself down and steady his breaths.

"Fuck." He shook his head, opened his eyes, and looked through the rear-view mirror once more.

Shocked, he saw both rookies doing the same, but even more: Phillips and Miller were leaning back against the seats, stroking their own chests with both of their hands. Their faces were plagued by pain and pleasure, with their expressions shifting rapidly. 

Both officers let out low moans as their bodies slowly reacted to their strokes. Their bodies moved in sync with the strokes and sensual movements.

Bradley himself intensified his strokes, feeling all of his muscles tense more and more.

As much as it was terrifying, something deep inside him found this alluring, but that wasn't him. It was a thought planted in him by that invisible, indoctrinating force.

"What is happening?" He cried out before a low groan escaped his lips. Barely able to move, he turned his head to see Johnson already one step ahead.

His partner's face looked pain-ridden, looking right into the bright light. He was stroking himself firmly beneath his vest, feeling himself, and touching himself so lovingly.

Bradley didn't understand what was happening to them, but his body was oddly into it. He could tell his member was hard already. Either due to the sight of the other officers or the pressure put on his body, he couldn't tell.

Just then, when he turned his face back into the light, his head grew so heavy. It was burning his eyes and, at the same time, invading his mind.

Panting, he struggled to keep his eyes open while his mind was flooded with more images and more thoughts of simple obedience.

This time, however, he saw himself as the obedient one. He was down on his knees, right next to this man he only knew as "sir". 

He was wearing a similar uniform, but his hands were cuffed behind his back. It was tight—it hurt a little—but he didn't mind. The man touched him lovingly—his cheeks, neck, and down to his thick chest—and it felt so good.

At the same time, one of his hands ran down his chest, right to his thighs, and between his legs. Bradley was growing so hard and so fast, and a sudden warmth began to engulf his chest.

Like a flower, it bloomed inside his chest and spread rapidly. His whole upper body tingled, and his breathing got out of control. Bradley moaned in ecstacy, leaning his head back once more.

His eyes rolled back into his head, turning white, while the tingling sensation flowed through him—into his arms, hands, and even into his fingertips. They felt numb, yet he experienced so much pressure and pleasure—his clothes were restraining him, however.

He tried to tear his clothes apart as all of his muscles grew bigger and harder, straining the fabric of his now-tight uniform.

Bradley was struggling to keep a sane mind; it was surreal. He managed to steady his head, but his eyes were so heavy.

Unable to speak, more moans escaped his lips, and when his eyes fell on those two rookies again, he groaned.

The young officers were experiencing the exact same thing. Both of them were touching themselves firmly through their uniforms. Their dicks were tenting visibly, with Phillips already staining his clothes either with his sweat or his cum.

They moaned and thrusted a few times, experiencing pure pleasure. Their eyes too rolled back a few times as their rough and husky voices filled the air all around them.

This encouraged Bradley to touch himself through his pants as well. His cock was larger than ever before—it was pressing against his pants, visibly even through his underwear and uniform—and he felt all of him growing even harder by the second.

Bradley was sweating heavily now as the air all around him grew even thicker, filled with the moans and groans of the other officers. The smell was even worse; all men were sweaty already, yet this was different. As some were leaking, it's smell mixed with the other bodily fluids.

Bradley closed his eyes, trying his best to block these thoughts, smells, and noises, but all he saw were more images of him being a mere plaything.

The man was demanding more, so his body flexed hard. He did everything to please him. And the same command entered his mind over and over again.

"Obey."

Part of him wanted to obey, to give in, yet he had to push it back to regain control over himself again.

Fighting back, shaking his head, and trying to thrash around, Bradley turned to Johnson, who was looking at him as well. Both men were touching themselves and their cocks firmly, but they tried hard to stay focused.

Johnson was looking for help—a release—but neither of them could move even an inch. They were struggling so hard but failed. Whatever was happening shouldn't be happening, was all they could think.

But the now-comforting warmth kept spreading into every corner of their bodies, making it so much harder to not just give in. Their minds were invaded once again—even more images of simple, blissful obedience.

Bradley steadied himself against the seat, one hand firmly grabbing his own cock, the other on his chest, stroking himself lovingly.

The warmth entered his thighs and legs and flowed into his toes, causing the numbing, tingling sensation to become more intense. His body moved on its own, spreading his legs to make more space for his large member and his hands running along its ever-growing shaft.

For one last time, he looked into the rear-view mirror.

In horror, he saw both officers giving in to this phenomenal feeling; Phillips and Miller were touching each other, stroking each other's chests firmly. Their gazes were empty, just looking straight ahead, while their expressions kept shifting—pain and pleasure—again and again.

He watched their hands encompass each other's bodies: chests, thighs, necks, biceps, and pecs. All while they growled, moaned, and groaned in unison.

Holding back a painful moan, he suddenly felt a hand on his chest—his partner's hand. Johnson started to stroke him gently.

"What are you?" Bradley turned his face to look at the other officer, who was looking into the bright light, his face red yet unbothered.

He tried to fight back, but something deep inside him was enjoying this. "Don't," he begged, but Johnson didn't reply; however, he moaned instead, still looking right into the light.

This sparked something inside Bradley's chest: the urge to be touched and be fondled with by another man. He saw the images again—how good it felt to be touched like that, to be obedient.

"Fuuck." He moaned deeply, loving the firm hand touching him, stroking him, and playing with his nipples through the thin fabric of his uniform.

Instinctively, he reached out as well, and once his fingertips touched Johnson's chest, his dick grew even harder.

He never thought of touching a man like that before, especially his partner or any other officer, but it just felt so good.

Bradley loved how this man's body reacted to the simplest touch—how hard his muscles and tight his clothes were.

He turned his face into the light and acted simply on command.

Both officers were touching each other, feeling each other, and enjoying each other's bodies.

It felt like the tingling sensation was following their every move as their bodies shifted slightly.

The officers eyes were unfocused; now vacant, all of them stared into the light when a single thought flooded their minds.

"Obey. Cum and obey. Cum and obey."

Simultaneously, the four men reached down for each other's rock-hard cocks, stroking them through their pants at first.

Sweating, they started to drool heavily as more and more moans escaped their lips.

One by one, they struggled to unbutton their uniform pants, but after a few failed attempts, they succeeded.

As Johnson pulled out Bradley's wet, hard cock, he instantly started to play with it. All the others did the same, wrapping their hands around each other's dicks and moving their hands up and down their lengths.

It just felt so good to be touched like that, causing them to let out satisfied groans.

Bradley bit his lower lip, holding back, yet his low guttural growl echoed through the car, followed by similar noises from the others.

While their cocks were being fondled with, they stroked their own chests again, and the tingling feeling entered their necks and minds.

All of them grew weaker, yet their strokes became firmer.

Their hands moved to an unseen and unheard rhythm, and all four cops were edging already.

It wouldn't take long for them to fulfill their duty.

"Serve. Cum and obey."

Miller's cock was the first to give in to the pressure. He shot load after load, covering not only Phillip's hands but their clothes with his precious, hot cum.

His moans filled the air, followed by Johnson, then Phillips. All of them were cumming simultaneously, and the smell of cum and sweat was undeniable.

With one final stroke, Bradley gave in to that tingling as well. As his cock erupted, his mind was drained of everything.

He couldn't think or speak; he just moaned again and again.

Bradley's beautiful eyes were vacant, unfocused, and dull, just like the others'.

With every load and every ounce of cum leaving their bodies, more and more of their will, their resilience, and their minds were drained. Replaced with only one thought.

Obedience.

They sat there for what felt like hours, but it was mere minutes.

The light turned off, and several shadowy figures approached the vehicle. They watched through the windows and found four cops—mere empty husks, empty and ready for further programming.

Their clothes were stained with sweat, cum, as they kept drooling as well.

The doors opened, and a young man, seemingly enjoying this sight very much, smirked.

"The first stage is complete." He said that and reached for Officer Bradley's chest, touching him and stroking him firmly, but the cop didn't react.

"Good boys." The man patted his chest and looked at four other men doing the same.

"Take them for further experiments." The man took a step back.

"Yes, sir." 

He watched four bulky men dressed in black leather pull those four cops out of the car—a sight to behold.

Their dicks were hanging out of their pants; all of them were covered in sweat and cum—a debilitating smell. Their eyes were empty, and even though they were thick, muscular men, they didn't fight back.

The officers were carried toward the other vehicle and out into the back.

With one last smile, the young man looked at them before closing the back doors.