The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, of continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns, villages, neighborhoods, streets, cul-de-sacs, nor governmental or non-governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if guy-to-guy sex stuff makes you barf or is going to screw up your mind, you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age in any state (21yo in Alabama, Mississippi, Wyoming, Nebraska), or in most countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such.
Following, pages of this story contain adult material', intended for an adult audience'. Bypass this warning at your own risk.
% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
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A NiFTy LiTTLe TALe 12 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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Before they left the bakery, Jason memorized a telephone number pasted on a sign, taped to the big glass window. It is something he developed a knack for, when meeting tricks. Afterward, having to remember on-the-spot, a guy's number who liked the awesome time Jason could show, after a while it wasn't tough to remember a few digits.
"Looking to buy some real estate?" Kevin asks.
"My dad had been bugging me, before I left for Manfredi," Jason, speaking like a high-hat businessman, "Son...' That's what my dad always called me, son', he said, `Son, I want you to be on the lookout for some little business venture... Blah, blah, blah..."
"So, you're going into the bakery business?" Kevin stirs the batter for more info.
"Maybe," Jason says, as they walk to where Xeno and Kev stand with the bikes.
"You'll have a tough act to follow," Kevin fills Jason in on the history of the multi-generational bakery.
"Oh? How's that go?" Jason asks, throwing a stiff leg over the bike. "Owch!" is a second reaction, totally off topic.
"Don't worry," Kevin says, "that seat can be lowered a bit. Makes it easier on the `hardware'!" he laughs.
"Sure. Laugh. It's not your balls getting bashed!"
Riding two feet, Kevin stops beside Jason, tutors him, "Lay your junk to the left of the saddle, like this."
"I can't quite see," Jason places a hand on coach's thigh, pulling it towards him, to look in the crevice of his legs.
Slapping him on the wrist, Kevin states, "Stop it, silly!"
"Oh, I forgot," Jason says, meaning they were out in public.
Yet, Jason was never intimidated about sexual matters, in public. In previous years of high school, he wasn't opposed to throwing around sexual nuances. Everybody did it, especially among other gay friends.
Changing the subject, Jason was okay with the response, instead of sitting there on their bikes, in front of the bakery, Kevin took off and what seemed, already a mile in front of him!
^ o ^
In the early morning hours, after leaving David's place, Ned was sure he left an impression on David. Not only had he found a hot fuck-buddy, one-sided as it was impressed upon, but Ned had found out something Rick hadn't clued him in about, the hidden cameras. It was quite by accident, roaming the house, the other bedroom, Ned happened upon a linked computer, to the other room, via wires and cams. Accidentally bumping a table is all that was needed to bring the screen to life.
"Holy shit!" he remarked, looking at the screen, seeing David standing right where he left him, tied eagle-spread to the end of the bed. Another remark left his lips, astonished he could see crystal clear the clamps on David's nips, the metal chain attached and hardware hanging from his balls, the weight he had applied. "I wonder," he wondered, using the mouse to zoom in and after examination, "Yup," he had seen the bottom part of the fat buttplug hanging out of David's ass, from between his legs.
Fake yawning, Ned relinquishes to the fact David is slumping in the bondage keeping his eagle-spread bod propped up, head down, where he left him, chin to his chest.
"Now, I think I can use a square meal!"
Using David's shower, checking out the wardrobe, Ned started to feel right at home. He even found a clip with some bills, `thanking David' for dinner he was on his way out to!
Walking in to the diner, Ned immediately locked eyes with Poul.
Each knowing the other, Poul nodded to him.
Taking it as a sign, Ned goes over to his table.
"Hey, Poul. How's it going? Ned, remember?" came the introductions.
"Good. Nice to see you again," Poul especially thought so, viewing Ned up close, upon only the second time they've met.
"Uh, nice to meet you... again," Ned replies.
"Likewise," Poul replies. Being on the outs with Hawkins and thinking of leaving his former lifestyle.
"Mind if I sit?" Ned replies. On needles and pins, not sure if he should mention his encounter with David.
When Poul first sat in the cafe, sipping on a courtesy cup of coffee, it seemed like an eternity ago he had been involved in the headmaster's scheme of things. "Sure," he replies, kind of excited by a new person in his life. For the last few years it has been the same people in his life, including the headmaster. Now, like a breath of fresh air, which Poul does inhale in the newness of his life, finally airing his thoughts, "You and David hang together. I thought maybe you were boyfriends?" yet deep down inside, gut-feeling, Poul didn't really think they were a match.
"No. Like, I just met him this morning. Kev Fitzgerald and I were working out some wrestling moves," though Ned didn't think he was at liberty to divulge particulars about his wrestling partner practicing' on him for a Saturday night event, which Kev didn't elaborate, only told him it could get brutal'!
"Oh. Are you good at it?"
There `it' was, the old Poul coming through. Almost every time he met up with a guy, it was for business. Even if the guy were drop dead gorgeous, it wouldn't be personal, just business. Realizing it, Poul suddenly puts his hands on his face and sulks.
"Are you sick?" Ned asks.
"Yeah," Poul replies, "sick of `me'!"
"Holy crow," Ned's favorite exclamation, "doesn't sound good to me. Anything I can do to help?"
"I think I need to get out of here and get some fresh air."
Before Ned got started on his first cup of java, the 19 year old and Poul were cruising down the boulevard.
"Where are we headed?" Ned asks.
"No where," Poul replies.
He was a little reluctant to go with Poul, the state he was in, but it's not like Ned hadn't been in places like this himself. He always thought, his experiences of tragic moments, it would someday present itself as a key to helping someone else. Maybe it's why he chose psychiatry as his major.
"He-e-e-y," Poul's mind wandered a second, motoring towards the summit of a hill. He didn't finish his sentence, except in silence, a flashback to his talk with the headmaster this morning. Seeing Cristano, it took Poul out of the context of doing business to why' was the Greek on a bike, riding with Jason, the science professor and what he thought, one of David's boys'?
At the summit, he pulled into the picnic area, made a u-turn and proceeds down the same hill he came up.
Ned knew he recognized, "I think that was Kev. I wonder what he's doing on a bicycle?"
"I dunno," Poul replies. So affixed on Cristano, "Maybe we should find out," though Poul wasn't interested in Kev.
Down the hill, they watch as the last of the four bikers turn into a residence. They didn't follow, rather Poul pulling off to the side, parking and getting out. Ned took the hint and follows in Poul's wake.
"Cristano!"
Only Xeno turns to look at who is referring to him as his given name. Even though everything was water under the bridge as far as he was concerned, he did show a bit of annoyance, "What do you want, Poul?"
Like lightning, Jason was right out front, "You're on private property, Poul?"
It didn't go unnoticed, Kev Fitzgerald walking straight for his wrestling, buddy, "It's okay. I know these guys," though at least he made a beeline for Ned. Afraid of implicating himself in Poul's business, he tried singling out his friend, in lieu of what he knew as a `business connection.'
Left in the dark, Kevin sat there on his motionless bike, watching, but on guard, since the tone of one of the boys, whom he knew was Poul Olaf, was not too pleasant.
"What do I want?" Poul softens his tone. "I want..." he trails off, "us to be friends?"
"Yeah, right," Jason replies, touchy, "like you wanted to be friends the first time. I don't think you even know what the word `friend' means, Poul?"
Xeno stood there, waiting and wondering, allowing Jason to be his spokesperson.
Upon speaking with Ned, Kev leads him over towards the parked bikes.
"I know." For the last few hours, Poul has slowly been surrendering to himself, tearing out of him the bad seeds and trying to plant new greenery. "I'm trying, I'm trying, okay?"
Neither Jason, nor Xeno knew what to do at this point, Poul doubling over, hands to his knees and openly weeping!
To Kev, Ned says, "I gotta go!"
"You gotta go?" Kev asks, watching Ned slip between Xeno and Jason, "You gotta go where?"
Consoling Poul, Jason says of Ned's comforting hug, "He must know something we don't know."
Ned sped out of there, because he knew he left business, `hanging!'
They should have showered before going in the pool, but grimy and feeling it, Jason led Xeno and Kev across the lawn, jogging at full speed. He was amazed how he kept ahead of them, yet detected there might be covert reasons why the two were intentionally trying to keep abreast of each other.
Coach Leeds had taken up the slack of putting the bikes back on the racks. Too, he didn't want to turn a deaf ear to Poul, standing there in his driveway. Kevin figures he better attend to Poul's grief, before he rusts the `horse' sculpture.
About to do so, a car pulls up the drive. He smiles, recognizing the driver, one of his colleagues from Manfredi,
It was his first year at Manfredi, but Virgil Dent, social studies teacher, had been lucky enough to have Kevin as his `mentor', protocol for all first year staff members. However, he was not the only faculty, along with him, as was the custodian, Jeadi Yousoufian and a new recruit, Jordan Curlew, teaching Language Arts.
Kevin was about to refer to Jordan as a student, looking young enough to play the part, when Virgil makes their acquaintance with each other. Kevin thought him cute... very cute... very, very cute!
Jeadi Yousoufian was not your ordinary custodian. There were other interests for him, besides keeping the toilet seats from getting splattered with yellow dots. As Jason had already found out, he was muscular, because they happened to occupy the weight-training room simultaneously. Other than this, Jason had no idea Jeadi had an unfinished degree in psychology, which did not keep him from helping students, off the record, with problems. Such was the case, Kevin notices, the custodian's gravitational pull to `the horse'!
Even though it hadn't been in his plan for the day, Kevin alludes to the fact there are Manfredi students in his back yard, explains, "We just got back from some bike riding and the fellas decided to cool off in the pool."
"Cool off?" Virgil says when he views the pool, Kev Fitgerald on the ground, Xeno on top of him, "Looks more like things are getting heated up!"
Jason saw Kevin's reaction, which wasn't too friendly and before coach could react, "Hey guys, cut the sex stuff and pretend you're wrestling, or else!"
Taking Jason's cue, Xeno says, "Oops!" to his crotch, in collision with Kev's bare balls, pulling up, rather than pressing his bod to the pavement, they both roll over and over and into the pool.
"Nice, stunt," it doesn't fool Virgil Dent.
However, to the new teacher on the block, Jordan Curlew's attention is drawn to the beauty of nature, "Nice place you have here, Kevin."
Virgil, 32 years old and about 10 years older than Kevin and Jordan, stirs up interests, "Why don't you two take a walk, while I pound some manners into these animals!"
"Pound?" Kevin directs, "Like how do you mean that, Virgil?"
"Not the way you're thinking it. Bye!"
It looked like Virgil was trying to get rid of them. In a way, he was, always the matchmaker.
As for Jeadi, he never joined them in the back yard. Rather, after a lengthy talk with Poul, after gathering the facts, thought it a good idea Poul go to the police station and talk with a detective. He had hopes of stripping down and swimming, but Jeadi instead grabbed the keys to Virgil's car. He knew when Virgil parked, he often left a single key under the floor mat.
^ o ^
He was a domineering sort of person, therefore Samuele Hawkins-Jones had no fear Poul would get himself together and things would be working full force, as jolly as they did the former year at Manfredi.
After David left, he showered, skipped shaving and while drying off, friction of the towel made him horny again. Thinking on one of the Saturday evenings, last year, he conjured up thoughts of kneeling on the bed, sitting on a university student's chest and sweetly having his meat tenderized. One of the clinchers, wasn't the student taking his load down his throat, but how mesmerized by his own nips being tweaked. At first he was about to make his nips off limits, but the student beat him to it and as the world turns, it turned his mind inside out with pleasuring, nips and cock both working at the same instant!
This morning he was feeling great, so started out on his habitual routine, a run in the park, which led to the ravine. Sometimes he would take the frequented route, other times the more rocky path in which he would have to jump logs or pay more attention to stones plaguing the pathway.
Such was today, Samuele feeling good about starting into a new semester, which meant all the work paving the way into a relaxing weekend, centering on Saturday night and little doubt everything would fall into place, left him with little care as he jogged up the ravine, dashing over a fallen tree as graceful as a deer.
However, what Samuele hadn't banked on, was the tree up ahead. No problem with the tree, standing there tall, leafy and green. The problem began with whom lurked around the other side and out of sight.
Just even with the tree, a figure steps out, plowing his fist right into Samuele's abs!
"Ugh-h-h-h-h!" The force of running, adding to the recipe of failure, the big fist of Gio Vespucci, stopped him in an instant.
"Dammit!" Sameule gruffs, doing a half pushup, one which brought him eye to eye with his aggressor, even though it was looking up at him. Sameule didn't like what he saw one bit. Even though it was a fist to the gut which put him down.
He feared the small bat in Gio's other hand, which now he tapped on his palm, saying, "Me and Tony, we was wonderin'..."
Tony, Gio's twin brother, picks up their gripe, "When you gonna pay up the money you owe us?"
"I already told you two," Samuele was bent on principle, but unsure whether he should break the rule, "You pay up front..." holds his gut, breathes heavily, "if you don't make the event, you don't get a refund."
Tony, the nicer of the two, tells him, "But we called you in the morning and told you. That should be good enough!"
Eyes on the bat in Gio's hand. Not a full sized baseball bat, it was a small replica Yankees bat, one you would buy a kid. Though, wooden and never a doubt it could feel awfully uncomfortable, swung into a guy's midsection... Samuele tread lightly on his words. Same time, he looked for a direction to run.
Replying to Tony's question, Samuele responds, "It says it in the contract. I need 48 hours for a refund. Go home and read it. You'll see I'm right."
Such was his confidence this day, he thought the Italian twins would do just that.
"I guess we should do that, huh Tony?" Gio says. Tossing the bat on the ground, which showed it was no longer a threat, Gio approaches Samuele, offering a gentlemen's hand of apology, "and I'm sorry we caused you any grief, Sam."
Things were going his way, especially seeing Gio toss the bat away, Samuele got to his feet. "Well, I'm glad you are seeing it my way, Gio."
"On the contrary!"
Fallen for the disguise of a friendly handshake, asking forgiveness, it turns into one of deceit, Gio taking his hand, but twirling the headmaster around, putting him in a full nelson.
He says to his twin, "Where's those new croc clips you've been wanting to try out, Tony?"
Back at their house, Tony claimed Gio always did what he wanted first and left him with the leftovers'. It seemingly was the case whenever they hooked up a university man. Gio would almost always take ass, whereas Tony shot his load down a throat. Once though, Tony got lucky, Gio finding this nerdy cub' not to his brother's liking. Tony loved the attention, getting sucked, primed up for a hot fuck, then a bonus, his cub spending the night and doing it all over again the next morning.
Now, given first dibs at their target, Tony replies, "Cool!"
"You guys are insane!" Samuele complains, trying to loosen his arms, which are in Gio's grip. Fear, 10 times over returns, watching Tony open and close the jagged-edged nips torturing implement.
"Go ahead bro. Make him scream. It's the least he can do for us, after he stiffed us for 600 big ones!" Gio was strong, so to hold Samuele is was not a terrible task. At the same time, he let go for an instant to rip down the front of Samuele's tee shirt, so driven, "Come on. I want revenge!"
The adrenaline flowing, Samuele almost untangled the web of Gio's lone arm, only to be caught up again, a warning punch to the left, backside.
"No, you're fuckin' crazy!" Samuele squirms, feeling the cold metal rubbed on each nip.
"Do it bro! Make him hurt!"
It's the way Gio always worked it, playing with a guy on Saturday night. Kev Fitzgerald really spiked his interest, especially when, for the first time, someone `could' fight back. Even though it was 2 on 1, Gio was the heavyweight of the 2-brother team. One thing about Gio, he could play fair, especially when the tide was turning against him. He did get a little disturbed when the university student picked Tony up, threw him right at him, which made him bounce off the ropes, where Kev's broad arm was waiting for him. Pounced back against the spongy ropes, Gio was a little dazed as his bod sped forward.
Kev helped his descent, throwing him front first on top of Tony's stomach. And then, because earlier in the contest or 2 on 1, saw they weren't adhering to any rules, Kev didn't see any problem dropping on top of Gio, his knee aimed to crush balls!
While Samuele was going through the uncomfortable aspect of having two metal clips take their toll on his nips, leaving him disoriented, Gio hauled him over to a tree, saying, "Tony, come hold him!"
Winding an arm around each side of the tree, Samuele's abdominals stood wide open for torment.
Looking through the low brush, Gio complains, "Now where did that bat go!" Finding it, "Here we go!"
"One more thing before we go," Gio says, rubbing the fat end of the toy bat up and down the stripe cutting down Samuele's stomach.
His nips still stung. A lot! The feeling of the bat was kind of a surreal feeling, like he felt it, but the softness at which Gio skimmed the surface of his stomach, it wasn't registering.
"Oh, wanted to first pay you back for Kev Fitzgerald doing a number on my crotch!"
Samuele saw more than stars, Gio's knee crushing his gym shorts against the tree trunk.
Backing away, Gio gave Samuele a moment to breathe, but then not wasting any time, turned his abs to mush. Because it only took three strikes of the bat to render Samuele useless to pain, they lay him face down on the ground. Being his same old selfish self, Gio went first, stuffing his cock into Samuele's ass, which after he shot his load, left a gaping hole.
Tony did complain he wasn't getting a tight fit!
Leaving him a `souvenir', Gio spits on the handle of the kid's bat, planting it in Samuele's ass, as if it were a buttplug, finishing off the humiliation with drawing designs on Samuele's back with piss streaming from his cock.
Walking away, at least Tony got his satisfaction of being `his' nip-clamps, he got to take the screws out!
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Copyright 2013 T. Chase McPhee
`A NiFTy LiTTLe TALe', and developing segments of this story, may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.