Police bastards

Marcos had been serving drinks at El Rincón for three months, pretending not to notice the glances from the three regular police officers. He had learned to recognize Ivan, the veteran sergeant who always looked at him with disdain; Ruben, the burly agent who made comments about his ass; and Javi, the youngest but most direct in his insinuations.

Every night he fantasized about one of them saying something more than just ordering a beer.

"Hey, waiter," Ivan shouted one particularly quiet night. "Come here, we want to talk to you."

Marcos approached, trying to hide his excitement. The three police officers had drunk more than their share and their glances had exactly what he had been waiting for.

"You know what, kid?" Ivan continued. "We like you. You're always so attentive, so helpful... Would you like to see our place? We could continue the party there."

His heart was racing. It was finally happening.

Ruben chuckled between his teeth. "Yes, we have something special prepared. Something you'll like."

Javi moved closer. "Come on, don't be boring. It's just a few drinks at home. Or are you afraid?"

"I don't know... it's very late...", Marcos murmured, playing the role he knew they expected from him.

"Come on, don't be a faggot," Ivan insisted. "Just for a little while."

Marcos pretended to hesitate for a moment before nodding. "Okay, but just for a little while."

The apartment was small and messy, just as he had imagined it. As soon as they entered, Ivan locked the door and Marcos felt anticipation coursing through his body.

"Well, Marcos," Ruben said, taking out his phone. "Now comes the fun part. Do you know why we brought you here?"

"No...", he lied, although he had been dreaming of this situation for months.

Javi gave him a sharp slap that made him stumble, and Marcos had to contain himself to avoid moaning with pleasure.

"Damn it! What the fuck...?", he protested with fake indignation.

"Shut up, asshole," Ivan snapped. "We're in charge here. We brought you to entertain us."

Marcos headed towards the door, but only to give them the excuse they needed. Ruben blocked his way. "Where are you going, faggot? The party's just getting started."

"This is crazy, let me go," he begged, although internally he was begging them not to.

Javi gave him another slap, this time harder. "You're not going anywhere. You're going to do everything we tell you."

"Are you recording? Are you crazy?", he asked, but the idea of being recorded excited him even more.

"Of course, we're recording," Ruben mocked, focusing the phone on him. "We want to have a memory of this special night."

Ivan approached and pushed him towards the couch. "Get on your knees, shit waiter. We're going to start with the basics."

Marcos pretended to resist, but let himself be pushed until he wa...