Trigger warning: This story contains strong elements of domination, humiliation, and forced, non-consensual male homosexual intercourse. It also includes drug use. If such material upsets you, please skip this one. You've been warned.
After a while--Tim imagined that it was the next morning--Wilson once again brought him oatmeal. The cop was completely naked and fully erect. He was stroking his cock with his free hand.
"Did you like your oatmeal yesterday, boy?" he asked, gruffly.
"Yes, Sir," Tim replied.
Wilson was still stroking his cock, looking like he was about to cum. And with a loud groan, he did, depositing his load in the bowl of oatmeal, along with a dose of pubic hair.
"I'll bet you liked it, Timmy. Jackson and I always add our secret ingredient!" He put the bowl on the floor, turned, and left the room, laughing.
The boy was hungry. He reasoned that, since he had swallowed both men's semen direct from the source, there was no reason to reject it in his food, so he ate the tainted cereal hungrily.
Tim fell back to sleep after he finished the gruel. This time, he had lots of dreams. Wilson's hairy ass spread before him, begging to be licked and sucked and probed. The intense smell of Wilson's unwashed body. The feeling of Jackson's monster cock in his ass.
Abruptly, Jackson and Wilson opened the door, completely naked. Tim startled awake, his cock stiff and leaking precum.
"Get up, Timmy!" Wilson yelled.
"Time for your lessons," Jackson said, much more mildly. He led Tim to the same bathroom and once again cleaned him out. At least this time the boy knew what to expect.
The task completed, Jackson handcuffed Tim and brought him to the garage. Wilson was sitting on the chair Tim had been tied to earlier, chomping on a cigar, with a cruel smile on his face. His flaccid cock hung down from his thick pubic bush, obscuring his balls.
"Do you smoke, Timmy?" he asked. "Other than meth or crack or pot, that is," the cop added, laughing.
"No, Sir," Tim replied meekly.
Wilson took a deep drag on the cigar, stood inches from Tim, and blew the foul smoke into his face. The boy coughed.
The cop laughed again. "I see. Well, I happen to enjoy a good cigar every once in a while, particularly when little pansy boys don't like them."
Tim kept coughing.
"Sometimes, I like to add a little extra flavor," he added.
"Bend over, boy," he commanded.
"What, S-s-sir?" Tim stammered.
"I said, bend over, you stupid twink!" Wilson was getting angry. Tim feared that he was due for another hard slap.
Jackson grabbed Tim's shoulders and bent him over, the boy's ass spread and easily accessible to the other cop.
Tim felt an odd sensation as something damp pushed against his anus. It didn't feel like a dick or a finger.
"Open up, you fucking faggot," Wilson shouted.
Tim realized what was happening. Wilson was pushing the cigar into his ass. He did his best to relax, and the stogie slipped a short distance into his hole.
"Good boy," Wilson said, finally. Tim felt him pull the cigar butt out of his ass and started chomping on it again. "Yeah, now it has the added flavor of pathetic boy's ass." He laughed, and slapped Tim's butt very hard. "Down on your knees, pussy boy!"
Tim knelt.
Wilson handed the cigar to Jackson, who took a deep drag. "Damn, that tastes good!" he said.
Tim watched helplessly as the two cops finished the cigar, smoked some meth, and started slowly stroking their cocks. Just the sight of them with their hands on their dicks made Tim's spring to attention, though there was nothing he could do about it.
"Know what a spit-roast is, Timmy?" Jackson asked, once he was fully erect. Precum dripped from his half-hooded dick.
"No, Sir." Tim replied.