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 most states and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such.
% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
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CoMPany payLoaD 18
WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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Friday night, into Saturday morning, not much changed in their relationship, Geoff still asleep as Nolan turned over in bed. Last night seemed like a long way off, but as he flipped over from stomach to back, he could still feel the sting of the dungeon scene. It should have left a grim feeling, instead Nolan smiled. Placing his hands on his stomach, folded in praying position, he looked up at the plain, white ceiling and stare in reflection, a smile creasing his lips. He thought of how the evening play out, Geoff's cock submerged in his mouth, trying to pry open his throat as he lay flat out on the leather bondage table. Then, one of his hands having the urge to slide down his hairy stomach, over his bellyhole and engage with playing with his soft cock, he thought about Hewy, lightly massaging his back with the flogger.
"Hmm-mm..." he heard Geoff stir.
Turning his head, he smiled, seeing Geoff lying with his back towards him, another pair of hands, not his own, caressing Geoff. It was all horny, thinking back about bringing Hewy home with them, the twenty year old too fatigued to hardly carry his own weight out of the `Bear Lair'.
He silently giggled, a grin on his face, thinking how Hewy suddenly' sprung to life when they arrived back at his dwelling. Oh!' Nolan thought, suddenly realizing the fact he walked from Geoff's car to the house with no clothes covering him! Then, condoning himself over the fact he lived almost a mile from the road or anyone who could see through the dense foliage. He took into account Hewy and Geoff, scantly clad in their leather outfittings, especially with their cocks hanging out the place where unsnapped pouches showed their manly interests.
`What tha?' he thought to himself, Geoff being bowled over, Hewy half-sliding off Geoff!
It was all good. Whereas Geoff was tall, beefy, bulky, Hewy was a light weight. The two only resembled each other by a distant view, alike for hair on their chests, stomachs and pubes, but different build, tall and beefy vs. slender, but not too skinny.
Nolan wondered if Hewy was still asleep. He was really tuckered last night, entertaining Geoff.
For the most part Geoff wanted to relax and take in the view of Hewy and him playing together, like live porn.
And play, Hewy and he did! It wasn't forced, nor anything like at the `Bear Lair', the two more like lovers, kneeling in the bed at the beginning of making out, kissing each other. Slowly Nolan took over, his lips making smooches to Hewy's hairy pecs. Feeling more comfy, Hewy slowly extended his legs and sank back into the bed. As he lay there, Geoff nudged himself closer, his shoulder to Hewy's right pit. From there, the two kissed, while Nolan worked his way lower.
He found out quite by accident, the twenty year old having sensitive nips, his hands pawing over the hairy pecs, zeroing in on the hard nubs, as his tongue painted a wet line down to his navel. From two places of sensitivity to the next, Nolan tongue-fucked the deep innie, biting along the edge of Hewy's bellyhole. Like the kiss of the flogger on his back, he made Hewy pay', biting hard. He made Hewy moan so' loud.
However, was surprised when he looked up, seeing Geoff brush one of his hands away and going to work on Hewy's left nip with his own mouth! "Geoff?" he said in a whisper.
Geoff didn't answer, too engrossed in wetting down Hewy's right pec, licking over the hard nub. Then, when he went back to kissing, his thumb and finger made mincemeat out of Hewy's nip, taking a nice plug of nipmeat and mashing it.
A sly look, feeling nobody could see or feel, except Nolan, he picked up Hewy's already hard nine inches and sucked in a ball sac. Because Geoff was working both nips by now and getting away with it, Nolan went for broke, sucking hard, trying to fit two balls in his mouth, whereas only one could fit comfortably!
"Oh no-no-no-you guys!"
Both Geoff and Nolan ceased their man-handling!
Looking at down upon himself, at the halt in stimulation, whether good or painful, Hewy turns his attention to Geoff, "I mean."
"What?" Geoff asks.
Even though feeling the euphoria of pain and pleasure, the pain got a little intense. However, without any sensation it was more torture, Hewy replying, "It's all good!"
Resuming, Nolan took the pain out of his orally working over Hewy's cock and balls. As for Geoff, lingered for an amount of time, finding himself dozing off. The early morning hours finished out with Geoff rolling off to sleep, showing disinterest, Hewy and Nolan making sweet love.
Now, as he thinks about it, rubbing his hand up and down Hewy's back, he thinks, fickled, it was very nice the three of them worked out so well together!
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They weren't the only trio who endured a restless night, Doug, Denis and Terry taking turns playing top' or bottom' to each other.
Morning breaking, Terry laughed his ass off at Doug's notion, "OMG! We forgot about Glenn!"
Terry puts matters to rest and like he knew Glenn Watney as well as the back of his hand, "He probably got tired of waiting and went on ahead without us." And like reading them a sexy bedtime porno story, "If I know Glenn, which I do," Terry giggles, "he probably wound up at the Bear Lair' or Chasm', playing slave to one or two hot masters."
"Slave?' Masters?' Like how would you know?"
Just as curious, especially regarding the particular subject matter, Doug inquires, "Yeah, how would you know, Terry, unless..."
Knowing he slipped, but unintentionally, Terry clears it up, "Okay... yeah, so I've dabbled in it. That satisfy your curiosities?" he looks to his left side, Denis, then the right, Doug.
Doug leads off, "I think I'd like to try it sometime."
"Me too. Do you think I would make a good slave to some master?" Denis asks, the two switching their attentions to his face.
"I mean, I don't know anything about this stuff," Doug replies, "but reading into it, I'm sure the guy with hot cocksucking skills it probably a good choice for the `bottom' guy."
Terry was entertained, switching his head back and forth, like a tennis match.
He didn't have to ask, the obvious, Denis having sucked both Doug and Terry last night, "Am I a good cocksucker?"
Cute' was part of the equation, Denis looking as cute as cute could be, Terry finally opening up, "Trust me. Any master at The Chasm' would welcome a cocksucker such as yourself, Denis." Even though he didn't mention it, Denis' appearance, the light brown hair, fuzzy pecs, slender trail to his pubes and boasting an 8c, was a mighty fine appraisal, adding to his oral abilities Denis would fare well at either gay club.
"Only one way to find out," Doug says. "When are you going to take us there, Terry?"
"Wait a minute. Time out," Terry makes a `T' sign with his hands. "It's not only about sucking and fucking," he counts out on his fingers, "you have to learn about discipline, and if you don't comply, what happens?" And another point counted off on his digit, "The pain part..."
"Pain?" Doug sat there in bed, tongue to the side of his lip.
"I dunno about that," Denis replies.
Sitting between the two in bed, Terry seemed to think a thought or two has passed from Doug to Denis and back, him asking, "Am I missing something here?"
It then came out, Denis and Doug helping, to tell the story of Denis' unpleasant experience.
However, turning it from something gruesome, relating it to the atmosphere at The Chasm', he tells the two, "Well there you have it in a nutshell! Though, instead of it being forced against your will, the slaves at The Chasm' are there under their own free will. Nobody gets forced into doing anything unless you want to."
"You mean like getting sucked and fucked?" Doug assumes.
"That and getting whipped, punched, their balls worked over."
Denis jumps the gun, with disbelief, "No way! Guys want their balls hurt?"
Going off on a tangent, Terry tells, based on what he's observed, again counting off his finger, "Balls tortured, nips tortured, whipped on the back or chest with a flogger or strap, punched in the stomach," he digresses, "mainly gymrats wanting to find out if their abs are punch-proof, then you have guys who are into bondage mostly, and then heavy or rough sex. What do you think?"
Taking it all in so quickly, Doug replies, "I'd probably be lost on what to do." Giggling, "Do they have training programs?"
Seriously, Terry says, "Actually, some of the masters find it highly erotic training a novice master, as well as slave."
Affectionately, Denis says, "I want to be Doug's trainee!"
Doug smiles back, turning to Terry, "So, Terry, where do you fit into all this?"
"Well," he sways his head back and forth, "I'm more what they call versatile. I can dish it out, but I can take it too."
"Like when do you know the difference?" Denis puts it to him.
"I don't. I think it depends on who is at The Chasm' when I get there. If I see a hot top," he smiles, wiggled his eyebrows, "who I happen to know holds a lot in his pants," he giggles, "then I instantly sink to my knees," meaning he's marked himself a slave'.
More important than `why', Doug asks, "Have you done stuff to guy's balls?"
"Oh sure," Terry says casually. "It's what is expected. Don't want to disappoint the customer!"
Denis recalls, "I got punched in the balls. Trust me. I won't want it to happen again!"
After hearing Denis' story, Terry says, "Y'know, I think `if' we go, you should go for the bondage."
Doug, already finding an appreciation of the subject, "Terry's right. This way you can just hang out for the night and not have to worry about and of the sadistic stuff."
Applying it to Denis' situation, Terry turns sweet on him, "Because I think you've already had your share of misery for a lifetime," he bestows a sweet kiss on Denis' cheek. Then bending away, he looks Denis in the eyes, "Y'know, I think you should try your hand at `mastering'? Why," he points his finger, like trying to get a message across, "with your good looks," then proceeding to slide his hand down, between Denis' legs, "and well-endowment down below, I think you would have a fair chance at knocking some boy's socks off?"
Doug furthers, "Or knock him up, whichever comes first?"
"Fuckin' a guy? Me?"
Terry had set off the idea and flame ignited, all Denis could do is sit there, slip a little down the sheet and because Terry's hand was already there, feel some pulsing which made him think he really liked the idea!
"If I' can do it, you' can do it," Doug replies.
Terry adds, "All you have to do is like it!"
"Trust me," Doug says, "once you have your cock up a guy's ass, it's pure ecstasy!"
"Like you felt last night?" Denis says.
"I sure felt it!" Terry says, slapping his own ass.
"I guess it wouldn't hurt to try." Denis then relays, "If suppose if I can trust you with taking my ass, I can trust you with this."
While the two locked eyes, fell towards each other, Terry under the bridge of lovers, he interrupts, "You mean you don't trust me?"
Terry opened his mouth, Doug closes it, "Hey, I got an idea!"
Denis and Terry stalked Doug for the left unsaid.
"Why don't you and me be masters to Terry and see how we like it!"
His finger thrown towards Doug, Terry replies, "Now there's an idea I think can grow on me?"
Way in which it was said, left no need for Denis to answer, but he did surrender, "Sure! Might be cool!"
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Tom Houten had acted brash towards Jaco, when the twenty-two year old barged into him, his brother, Laurent and Tony, the four having a casual breakfast out by the pool. After Laurent kicked him under the table, Tom realizes it wasn't a good move, so pretended he `liked' Jaco, saying something like he couldn't wait to get back to college this fall and do fun stuff like they did during the college semester.
Apparently Jaco `bought it' and leaving the four behind, walking through the kitchen, he was forced to stop and lean against the counter. His hand was busy feeling up his swimjock, firming it beyond what his thoughts had begun to carve it, into a full bloom erection. Closing his eyes, he pictured what was to become of Tom and James, but focus on his roommate, of breaking the attitude as well as having Tom tied down in the dungeon and working his ass over with all seven hard inches. Soon he couldn't help himself, over the edge, yanking his cock and balls out of his g-string loin covering.
"Need some help with that, `sir'?"
Freezing, Jaco peered over at the door, seeing Hans, one of the masterminds of the plot, in particular assigned to go after Demont, upon storming the Harrellsson Building in America.
Rather than a normal yes' or no', Jaco replies in a brash manner, "Get over here and on your knees boy!"
He was a strapping man, forty-two years old, able to pass easily for thirty-five or so because he worked out at the gym. On his way to the pool, all Hans had to do is shuck the towel, reducing him to a speedo which hugged his hips, trimmed blond pubes almost down to a hint of cock. "What now, `Sir?'"
Playing the game, Jaco replies, as if angry, "What the fuck you think, boy!" He takes his hard cock and slaps Hans up-side the face.
After breaking a smile, he opens his mouth.
Not forgetting, but also informing Hans in a roundabout way he wanted to have fun, more than the forced cocksucking, Jaco tells him, "I'll be punishing those abs and this smooth back," he slides one hand over Hans' beautiful back, which the other hand is behind Hans' head, adding some force to the cocksucking.
"Yes, Sir," Hans replied. He knew the protocol, how it was not proper to answer with a `sorry sir', knowing punishment would already be delved out. Back in Berlin, Hans played with some rough buddies, ones who knew how to wield a cropper or strap and dished out a hundred or so lashes without marking a man. Though, if Hans left with a few stripes on his back it would not phase him, satisfaction filling him after a night of pain and sex.
Because he had met Hans just yesterday, this the first time the two enjoy recreational time in sync, Jaco further ventures, "And you'll take my fat cock up your ass after you've sucked it up into a nice big log, boy!"
Without hesitation, recalling Berlin-daze, Hans replies, "Yes, sir!" with more energetic emphasis.
Everything about Hans turned Jaco on. To make sure he was to receive the ultimate pleasuring, Jaco's hand followed Hans' spine down to the small of the German's back, slipping the tips of his fingers under the hem of his speedo. With the other fingers and thumbs planing over his ass, Jaco dipped his index finger into the valley of Hans' ass-cheeks. He smiled, hitting pay dirt, a nice, small opening!
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Meanwhile, back in America, even though Demont could have taken Saturday off, which he kept a secret from the Harrellsson Building staff, he now sat in the hidden auxiliary security center. Apart from the main control center, which housed computers, monitors and wires running from ceilings to consoles, outlets, the smaller looked to be a fraction of the original. However, in Demont's opinion, following schemes and schematics he drew up himself, what he saw on the wall of monitors spell out more of the goings on within the walls of the office tower.
"Anything worth jerking over?"
"Have a seat," Demont slaps the leathered easy chair next to him.
Nobody, except one electrician, who he handsomely paid off with carte-blanche fucks whenever he wanted it, Demont had told a sole in the world this room existed, until Trystan Carr showed up in his life.
Sitting, Trystan commanded the attention of Demont, wrapping a hand around the back of the Egyptian's head and forcing their lips together. Just as quick, after a lip-smack, Trystan asks, "What have you got? Something juicy I hope?"
"I've been observing these two. I think you recognize one of our board members?"
"David Schlesinger?" Trystan focuses on the screen, sixth to the right, first row of monitors. "I thought board members had the weekend off."
"My exact feelings," Demont thought. Even though Demont had met his match, he had feelings about Trystan, a strong want for him after their first sexual encounter. During which, Demont allowed the first man to ever get close to his ass. After the long night of sexual pleasuring, Demont swore to make Trystan a permanent part of his life. To keep him situated in power and wealth, not which Trystan stood hungry for, not more than sex, as Demont discovered, he set his knew `partner' up with a good position within the company and moderate salary. Mostly though, his interest lay in keeping Trystan sexually satisfied, whether it was in the comfort of their own bedroom or monitoring the ins and outs of Harrellsson employees.
"So," Trystan asks with a bit of sarcasm, "what's Schlesinger doing..."
"Sh-h-h-h-h!"
Nobody would ever dare cross Demont, but now Trystan, stealing the remote out of his hand, saying, "Turn the damn thing up," it only made Demont's loin tingle, the first man to ever stand up to him without thinking about the consequences.
"I was about to do that!"
"Watch it, Demont," Trystan says with a coy look on his face, a raising of eyebrow, "remember I get first dibs at fucking ass tonight!"
Demont didn't like it one bit, but in a nice way. Saturday nights he usually got on the computer and at the website
collegeboys4hire.com, he could find plenty of action, one or two taking the bait, which also met his needs. "I thought maybe two hungry boys might want to pick up some extra cash?"
Knowing Demont wanted one for himself, Trystan jokes, getting greedy, "Why sure. While I'm porking one frat's ass, the other can come in the back door and tongue fuck me."
The toothy smile on Trystan's face gave indication it was a joke, Demont saying, "You better be joking!"
"Or what?" Trystan toys, knowing the one unusual thing which he found kind of awesome.
"Or I'll whack that fanny of yours with my big hand?"
Last night it made Trystan hard and leaking. Now, just the thought of it made his cock in his pants wiggle.
"Look!"
At the sound of Demont's voice, his eyes on the monitor, made Trystan, with split-second diligence, press a button the remote, switching from a standard sized monitor, to the big one in the middle.
"Shit!" Trystan exclaims.
While they were having their little chat, apparently, another man had shown up, who it looked, had known the office worker who had met up with David Schlesinger.
"Who is he?" Trystan asks. "More important, since we know everybody, how did he get clearance to enter the building?"
On his laptop, Demont types furiously away. In seconds he is matching faces with names, "First man with Schlesinger is Juan Cortez," reading down the stats, "twenty-nine years old, has been with the `Office Cleaners' for six years."
"Six years? It's a crappy job," Trystan remarks.
Taking on the scene, David stripped butt naked, Juan down to his briefs, getting ready to take them off, the third man loosening his tie, after taking off his suit jacket, Demont replies to Trystan's query, "Fringe benefits?"
"Do you think David and Juan have met before?"
After a snide laugh, Demont replies, "Find out later after we interrogate him!" He laughs whole-heartedly over his own joke, or maybe intended!
Demont steals the remote back, cranking up the volume.
"Oh no!"
"What?" Demont says in surprise emotion.
"I don't know Spanish!"
"No problemo! I know eight languages!"
Trystan is impressed. All along his impression of Demont has been of one hunk of a sex machine, not to mention a diligent employer. "Eight languages?"
"Shush-h!" Demont once again commands silence.
Not perturbed, Trystan sat there, his hand immediately going to the place between his legs, frolicking with his wares when he sees Juan walk behind David, "What's he gonna do?"
Seeing it commence, Demont names it, "A full nelson."
"The other guy," and because Demont didn't identify him, "who is he?"
They watch, the third man, stripped down to his waist, walk up to David and tuck a few fingers in his gut, right above his bellyhole.
Glancing at his laptop, Demont refreshes his memory, "Al Tarulli, Juan's superior at the cleaning company and if I'm not mistaken he's about to sharpen up on his boxing skills, using Schlesinger's stomach for a punching bag!"
"What?" Trystan says with exclamation. "Do you think he can take it?"
"Maybe," Demont shows no negative response, but rather casually he speaks.
"Do you think we should go there and..."
"Nah," Demont again loosely says.
Still standing, but his hands on the grips of the chair, Trystan stares at the screen, almost afraid to blink, less he misses something. Finding excuse, he says, "Well it's not like David is saying anything to discourage him."
After a nasally induced giggle, Demont replies, "Of course not. Schlesinger `wants' it."
"Ya think?"
"Yeah," Demont has now resorted to firming himself up over his emotional attachment, "he wants it bad. I wonder how much he will take?"
No sooner had he said it, Al Tarulli draws his right elbow back and plows it into the area of David's stomach he had just felt up.
"Shi-i-i-i-t!" Trystan exclaims, standing up so his head is at level with the monitor. It's then he realizes, after the belch of hand to gut action, "Damn! He's took the punch like nothing phased him!"
"Told you he wanted it, didn't I?"
"Yeah," Trystan's attention is glued to the screen, watching as the one called Al' is responding to Juan's lengthy sentence with a Gracias'. "Al, he's thanking Juan. What'd he say?"
"Juan tells Al the punch was so heavy it felt like `he' was getting punched in the stomach too. Al took it as a compliment."
A short second away from the monitor, Trystan heard the chipping away on the laptop, asking, "What're you doing?" He also takes note of the bulge in Demont's pants.
"Taking some notes and adding them to my personal file on David Schlesinger."
Whipping his head back to the screen, Trystan mentions, "You're getting off on this, aren't you?"
He was and to make matters more intense, Demont says, "I only wish Tarulli would speed it up!"
People say `be careful what you wish for', but for Demont his wish came true, Al Tarulli utilizing both fists to exercise the twenty-eight year old's gut.
"Damn!" Trystan says, after watching Juan let go of David, his legs buckling, him falling onto his knees, cock and balls to the floor as he kneels over, hunched, both arms crossed underneath him.
Same time, Demont slaps Trystan's hand away from his crotch, remarking, "Who is turned on now?"
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Copyright 2011 T. Chase McPhee
`CoMPany payLoaD' may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.