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 19
WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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Juan wasn't seeing much action, other than taking orders from his boss.
By now, Trystan was taking orders from his' boss, by sitting, remaining calm. He did, Demont showing the play' was controlled, David Schlesinger reserving the right to hold up on the gut punching, Al Tarulli responding by backing off.
While at rest, Al walked over to the sinks, turned on the cold water and slapped some onto his sweaty face. he proceeds to do the same for his sweat-soaked chest and stomach, freely cascading water over it.
Juan, again releasing David and letting him catch his breath, says something to Al.
"What's he saying?" Trystan asks, leaning his ear towards Demont.
"He's asking Al," Demont hesitates.
Feeling more relaxed, Trystan had sat through the next bout of gut-bashing, then felt a hand on his hand. Looking down, Demont had his cock out, wanting it stimulated. On the same token, Demont had reached over and tried unzipping Trystan's pants, Trystan slapping it away, saying he could do it himself. Likewise, when the third set of gut-punching commenced, the two traded off stroking each other.
After Demont typed something into his personal laptop, he continues like he never stopped, "If he thinks Schlesinger has had enough."
Seeing it before their eyes, Trystan replies, "Obviously Tarulli thinks he can take more. What do you think?"
As their hands settle back down in opposite laps, Demont responds, "I think this is not the first time David Schlesinger has dabbled in gut-punching."
Trystan exclaims, right after Al has started on rounds of 1-2, hesitating after the second punch, "I lost count after the first set. How many are we up to?"
"Punches or strokes?"
Trystan just smiled back, catching on to Demont's joke, replying, "Betcha I can get you off faster!"
Both went to it like lightning, stroking the other. But for whatever reason, the contest wasn't doing it for either of them, only producing chafed cocks and `punched' balls on the hand rebounding.
Suddenly putting on the brakes, Demont's hand still in the clutches, says, "I think maybe it's time to find out what Juan's packing in those skimpy briefs of his!"
After hanging out with Demont, some of him has already adhered to Trystan's personality, him saying, "Sounds good to me!"
Hands in release, stuffing themselves back into their pants, zipped up, and they really had to stuff it in, especially when Demont was really close. As the two left the special security chamber, enroute to the exec lounge on the third floor, it wasn't David Schlesinger Trystan was thinking about, but rather Juan's boss. Already thinking of using a tactic Demont would consider fairplay, he was wondering how far Al Tarulli would go to save his job and reputation.
A big smile crisscrossed Demont's chops, whole bod shaking as he chuckled, thinking, `What a shame it would be if it ever got out, Al Tarulli took such pleasure in beating up guys for the hell of it.'
Trystan wasn't sure if Demont was feeling the repercussions, the fast pace of hot pursuit making his balls rub up against his bloated erection, as imminent thoughts danced in his head!
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Weekend flying by, on both sides of the Atlantic, all parties involved, directly or indirectly had a very satifying, gratifying turn of events as it pertained to the individual or set of individuals.
"I can't believe we've almost slept the whole day away!" Nolan yawns as he stretches his arms up towards the ceiling.
Yet, he reminisces over the weekend, thinking how the sweet time has flown by, first reflecting on how it started out with the man on his right, Geoff lying there, back as well as hairy ass facing him, then looking under his left pit to see.... "Oh! Where'd he go?" he questions the impression in the bed, minus a bod.
"Rise'n'shine!"
Standing tall, at six feet, Hewy Zeitouny looked so good to Nolan's still glassy eyes, rubbing them into focus to view the twenty year old. Starting at the smile, he worked his eyes over the lightly cropped, black beard, to the full chest of the same dark hair, then suddenly dropping to smooth nothingness, the tray of food, trail in and out of the deep bellyhole, then... "Mm-m-m, am I ever ready for some sausage," he smacked his lips when his eyes looked underneath the tray. Even though soft, it had to be nine inches, hanging down.
Lowering the tray, Hewy intentionally blocked most of Nolan's view, "I can't believe your insatiable appetite!" he joked.
"Oh really? And who was fighting me over Geoff's cock last night?"
Arguing, nicely, Hewy exclaims, as he moves the tray to the top of a dresser, "You were more interested in Geoff's hairy ass, until I decided to move from his pecs to his pubes, so don't give me a story, huh?" Pouring a cup of coffee, he hands it to Nolan, "Here. Take it."
"What's in it?" Nolan smells the aroma.
"My own special brew. A little piss, a little spunk!"
"Mm-m-m-m!" Nolan replies, a wide smile accompanying his next sip.
Before he can sip, a hand reaches up, grabs the mug right around the middle.
"I beg your pardon?"
After sipping, Geoff, who missed the prior conversation, points his index finger to the top of the mug, "This stuff is good!"
Hewy and Nolan exchange glances and smile.
Hewy confesses, "I didn't really put piss and cum in it."
"Oh sure," Nolan replies, "you tell him, but you don't tell me?"
Because Hewy mentioned it all, Geoff asks, "You into watersports, Hewy?"
"Sure. I've done some."
Nolan, on his `second cup', drank while the other two conversed.
"Given? Taken?" Geoff inquires in the broad sense.
"One time a top dude told me, if you want to be a good master, it's a good idea to experience on a first hand basis," Hewy replies, standing casually, which Nolan didn't mind sipping his coffee to the view!
"So you've..."
"Done it all," Hewy filled in the blank thought.
This made Nolan curious, "All? Like what does `all' encompass?"
Before it was Nolan and Hewy in silent stare, but with Geoff and Hewy locked in vision, Nolan knew they were silently cooking up something.
"What are you two dreaming up for me?"
Curious, but excited at the same time, over this past weekend Nolan has learned that both guys could be a helluva lot of fun, neither showing much inhibitions of doing the bizarre, even though they were at a very low end side to the world of bdsm.
Geoff loved it when Hewy offers, "I think your next cup of coffee should be spiked!"
"With?" Nolan show a sour face, tongue stuck between his lips.
Hewy held his deflated nine inches up on the palm of his hands to see if Nolan would get the hint.
"Cum?" he brightened up a bit.
Rather than Hewy, Geoff answers, "I had to go bad, `before' I drank the coffee!" He got out of bed.
"I think I gotta go too," Hewy says. Of course his hand on his own cock was taking him into the realm of semi-soft.
"Mm-m-m, tastes good," Geoff says, nibbling on the bacon.
"Do I get some?" Nolan innocently asks.
Stealing a glance to Hewy, Geoff responds, "How about after we shower?"
Nolan couldn't dismiss the fact he was excited at the prospects, or else he would have made a stall and stay in bed. However he slid his ass to the side and stood on his feet. He couldn't believe he said, "Are we going to do this in the jon?"
"It's your house," Geoff says. "Wherever you want to do it?"
There was an adjoining bath, Nolan walking off towards it, hearing in the background like little church mice, Hewy whispering to Geoff, "Like what're we going to do?"
Nolan only smiled, hearing an excited laugh out of Geoff's mouth, along with, "I dunno. We'll make it up as we go along!"
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That Sunday morning, Terry, Doug and Denis were rolling awake. Saturday they had caught up with Glenn Watney. All afternoon the three were accompanied by Glenn, either shopping or eating out. Doug and Denis never tired of either, but even when dawn moved to dusk the two were full of energy.
Terry wasn't too fatigued, but Glenn showed it. After all, the night before he slept off and on in the limo, the driver turning up tricks for half the night.
"Have a good time last night?" Terry greeted the two.
He felt a little alienated, the two eighteen year olds snuggled up in each others arms.
Denis in the middle, he rolled away from Doug, opening up the chasm between.
"It was awesome!" Denis replies. "I've never seen so many barechested guys in one place at the same time!"
Doug, a little more reserved, "I wanted about fifty of them!"
"What about me?" Denis replies.
Even though he woke up clinging to Denis, Doug had different thoughts about last night. Somebody had told him once `two is company, three's a crowd' and he didn't want to believe it, but with Denis and Terry more gravitating to each other, he had serious thoughts about him and Denis. Even now, Denis had inched his way towards Terry.
"Look guys," Doug suddenly sat up, placing his legs indian-style, "it's not going to work."
"I think we're getting along okay," Denis replies.
"He's right," Terry says, sitting, turning towards the edge of the bed and ejecting himself.
"No, that's not what I meant," Doug does an about face, exiting the opposite side.
"I guess everybody's done with `bed'!" Denis ferries himself towards the side Terry got out of and stands there near him.
Doug admits, "Yeah, you two look good together."
"Good together? What do you mean, Doug?" Denis replies. He separates himself from Terry and walks towards Doug.
Ready to give him a hug, Doug holds up his hand, putting it to Denis' chest, "Hold on a second."
"You want me to leave?" Terry asks.
"No. Stay," Doug replies.
Sadly, Denis asks, "Doug, what's this about?"
Terry knew. Even though only three years older, he had experience with these things. Whereas Denis and Doug were new at this relationship stuff, by age twenty-one, Terry had been in and out of two relationships. At first he was willing to try a threeway relationship, but he was finding out, as Doug had summed up, things weren't progressing along in that direction. He enlightened Denis, "What Doug wants is out, but it is not because of his own desires."
"I don't get it," Denis replies. "What's Terry mean? You don't want to be with me anymore?"
It was tricky, Doug not having any experience at this and hoped he would say the right words, "It's not you and me anymore. Yesterday it was `you', Terry and me, but this morning it seems like everything has changed."
Knowing where Doug was headed with this, Terry steps forwards and as if the threeway has dissolved into two, places an arm over Denis' should, saying, "I'm feeling really close to you Denis."
It backfired, Terry thinking it would bring the point closer to home, but Denis shrugging off the affection, "No! It's Doug I'm with."
Denis clutched Doug in his arm, weaving in between Doug's forearm and putting his arm around his waist, but Doug did not return the affection.
"Doug?" Denis sensed it immediately. "Don't you like me?"
There was something undying here and Doug was feeling it, communicating, "On the contrary, I love you Denis. I always will, but I think it's best we go it as friends?"
For the rest of the day they hung out together, but going to the zoo and walking the city later on, Denis saw the light, gravitating more towards Terry.
As night time fell and they returned to bed, it was only Terry and Denis, him asking, "Is Doug going to be okay, Terry?"
Little did they know, when Doug walked out of the building, Glenn Watney's limo was standing by the curb.
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"Oh man are my balls killing me!"
Stepping out of character from last night, Tom replies in a cutesy manner, his hands gently rolling the tender sacs, "Oh does Tony's balls hurt?"
On the opposite plane, Tony remarks, "Oh yeah," they still felt good, "but last night you were hurting them `real good!'"
Tony had already thought about this, even finding the perfect man, well he always hoped it would be a very hairy muscle bear, but when it came to coddling to his love of having his balls abused, plus a nice size cock to fulfill his other need, he was happily settling up with an eighteen year old, yet to sprout some bod hair!
"Maybe sometime we could expand," Tom had hoped, working Tony on some nice tortures he thought up while playing with his brother.
"Expand? What's on your mind?" Tony left it open.
It was a secret, but Tom felt him and Tony hitting it off rather well, so divulged, "Do some stuff to you I did with James."
"James?" Tony questioned.
"My brother?"
"I know James is your brother." Skipping over much doubt in his mind, Tony presses, "So what did you do to James?"
Sheepishly now, because he's not so sure of how accepting Tony is of two brothers carrying on a gay relationship, some kinky stuff attached, "First off, James is gay and..."
Before Tom could get it out, Tony's saying as he giggles, "Like I hope for Laurent's sake he is!"
"Shut up and listen."
Tony, like refusing a juicy cock, tightens up his lips.
Tom continues, "James taught me a lot about gay sex, but I think after I fucked him a few times we found out some other stuff we could both get turned on by."
"You played with his balls?" Tony guessed.
Tom play just now with Tony's balls, but as the conversation continued, Tony's cock began twitching all by itself.
"His balls," Tom casually returns, "and cock, nips, anyplace where I felt like it."
"And James `allowed' you to..."
"I know what your thinking. James comes across tough as nails, but he said many a time after we had a couple of hours of fun that I'm the only one he would allow to do stuff to him, plus there's nobody else he would let fuck him."
Tom had rolled over, back to the bed, placed hands behind his head. Tony turns towards him, after picturing all Tom has rendered. Maybe he didn't get his muscle-bear, but he sure enjoyed licking circles around Tom's nips, feeling the smalls wisps of hair on his tongue. Last night he had a feast, making love to Tom's treasure trail, slurping up, dipping his tongue deep into Tom's bellyhole, fucking it somewhat, then skiing his tongue back down the hairy path to suck Tom's shaft up into a full nine inches. Now it was much different, as if a turning point was being reached. He had no reservations about, "Sure. You can do whatever you want with me... except," and he was just kidding, "kill me?"
Half serious, Tom replies, "Don't say stoopid things Tony. I'll only kill you if I accidentally kill you, okay?"
They were on a humor-kick right now, Tony asking, "Um, like how many accidents have you ever had in your life?"
"None," Tom says, is quiet for a second, then confesses, "except one time I was dripping hot wax on James' chest and his nips got kind of `hot'."
Half laying on Tom's bod, Tony shows shock, his eyes wide open. Gulping, he asks, "Burned bad?"
"I dunno. They used to be a nice color, but James says I made them pink. He's kind of conscious of it. I think they're okay."
His only reply, refers to, "I wonder what Laurent thinks?"
"You can phone him?" Tom says, turning his head towards the night table.
"I'm not going to phone my cousin. Besides, he and James are probably having their own fun."
His hand moving down between both their bods, Tom asks, "When are we going to start having some fun?"
Smiling, Tony set about revisiting that luscious bellyhole and the scruffy trail leading to the treasure!
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Last night, Erik and his old friend, Giuseppe, had celebrated. They got talking over old times and an incident, which had occurred in their early twenties, something unpleasant happening, had caused a rift in their friendship. Giuseppe having apologized, the two remained friends.
Little had Giuseppe known, Erik never let bygones be bygones. Sure, he had allowed Giuseppe to provide him with sanctuary when he fled the US, but as he lived as a border at the villa, he wondered how it would feel owning' such a place. Nice retirement', Erik had thought, lying there in bed on such nights he had had sex and then fled to the solace of his own room. In his mind, the incident over the grudge returned and hatched up a plan to get even. This morning he was about to embark on his `retirement preparations.'
Last night, Erik had begun getting his forty-seven year old friend rather drunk, him pretending. As in the past, sharing the same interests, they had gone to the dungeon to play, but there were others having their own fun. Taking it up to Guiseppe's suite, Erik made sure he pocketed a few items; cuffs, flogger, ballgag, ball parachute and a pair of razor sharp alligator clips, the kind with a connecting chain.
This morning, Erik awakening first, he knew Guiseppe would be groggy, especially when he slipped a couple of viagra into Guiseppe's last drink! True to his thinking, Erik arose undetected. He found Guiseppe lethargic in his response to waking, which made it a cinch to attach each of the wrist and ankle cuffs. As he began his plot, his loins began to kick in and by the time he had Guiseppe fitted and stretched eagle-spread on the bed he had a raging hard on. He knew, the cuffs he had just finished attaching to the foot of the bed, he would `need' to untie. Regardless, he first wanted his victim awake and lively. Lively was key as he held the open clips, finding Guiseppe's meaty nubs in all the chest hair. Scooping up an amount of each nip, he let go.
"Ak! Ak!" It first startled Guiseppe awake! "Ak--k-k-k-k-k! Oh! Oh! No-o! Ak-k-k--k-k-k-k-k!" He arched his back and wobbled around, as if it would do something to alleviate the horrifying pain.
Erik didn't let the clamping down of the teeth suffice, but twisted the chain, causing the nip-clips to stretch.
Still in pain and cursing Erik out, asking why and so forth, Erik could care less about giving answers, the flogger in his hand.
"No Erik... no, please," Guiseppe pulled at his arms, "Money! If it's money you want..."
"Money?" Erik replies, lifting the flogger and bringing it down across Guiseppe's chest.
Guiseppe howled with pain.
"Yeah, you cost me a lot of money even though I've made a thousand times what you chiseled me out of. I never forgot how much I own you, Guiseppe!"
Erik proceeded to grind away at the infraction, hammering away at Guiseppe's chest and stomach. Even though his bod was covered with dark hair, red skin now silhouetted against the wiry patterns.
"That should do it!" Erik replied to Guiseppe's moaning pain. "I wouldn't want to deprive Stefano!"
Said with a purpose, in the door walks the twenty-eight year old mastermind of Erik's planned raid on the Harrellsson building. In a cheerful mood, Stefano says, "How are we all this morning?" his Italian accent making his English staggered.
"Stefano?" Guiseppe states through the pain of his burning chest and stomach.
"Yeah," Stefano laughs out loud, setting an attache case down on a table, flipping the catches, opening it. "Just to let you know, it was nice having your money, Guiseppe, but Erik, he pays me much more than you!"
"What?" Guiseppe remarks, moves, sighs with pain because the chain attached to the croc clips moved. "You can't Stefano!"
Erik, seeing what Stefano has in his attache case, remarks, "I brought some toys from the dungeon," he holds up the ball separator.
"Oh nice," Stefano says, taking the metal-stranded implement from Erik's hand, "will make a nice conductor for the tens unit."
"No,no," Guiseppe pleads, "you don't have to do this Stefano."
"You're right," Erik replies. "Now I hold all the cards, Guiseppe, except..." he stops, smiles, "the deed to this lovely estate, which would make a lovely retirement home for my older years. All is left to do is have you sign it over to me!"
His smile was opposite thinking to Guiseppe, "You're fuckin' crazy!"
"I thought so," Erik replies, turning to his accomplice, "So what kind of excruciating torture is Guiseppe up for first, Stefano?"
"If you'll gently remove the croc clips, I have something more menacing for Guiseppe's nips?"
Both totally ignored Guiseppe's pleas, entwined with words, both Italian and English which reflected something about fucking themselves, which Stefano joked to Erik, "Now there's a thought!"
It hurt almost as much as adhering, removing the croc clips. Applying much more blunt-tipped, the next set of clamps had short wires attached.
"How are you going to shock his nips from there?"
Picking up a remote, Stefano replies, "Bluetooth!"
Giving Erik a sample did not humor Guiseppe at all!
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Geoff allowed Hewy to take charge as the three entered the jon, off Nolan's bedroom.
"Okay," Hewy followed Geoff's cue, "first I want to tell you, you must do everything I tell you or else I will punish you." He looked to Geoff to make sure he got it right.
Geoff smiled and nodded.
In Nolan's opinion, Hewy was direct, serious, to the point and oh so such a sweetheart. Even though he was a novice, Nolan wanted Hewy to succeed so much he would probably promise him anything, so agreed, "Okay. No problem."
"You will answer `Yes, Sir!'"
"Yes! Sir!" Nolan replied, a tight-lipped grin following.
Right behind him, Geoff put on a grumpy face, which gave Hewy inclination to be forceful, pounding his hand to his fist.
Hewy took this to mean something different, saying, "I do not like your attitude. Stand, slave!"
Geoff nodded, `okay'.
As soon as Nolan did, Hewy hauls off and sucker punches him in the stomach.
"Oomphf!" Nolan gasps, bending all the way over at the waist.
"Are you alright, Nolan?" Geoff asks.
Geoff goes on to explain to Hewy, "If you are playing with a guy and you don't know his boundaries, you lead into it."
Hewy on the other hand asks, as he pounds his fist into his palm, "I thought this is what you meant?"
Wanting this still to be a good experience for Hewy, Nolan straightens himself up and even though his gut hurt, says, "Didn't feel half bad. What's next?"
Hewy and Geoff look at each other, Geoff saying, "Go figure!"
Geoff then says he had hoped the pissing stuff went fast, but said he had to get to the bakery.
Leaving Nolan in Hewy's hands, the two stood there in the jon.
"We can do this some other time," Hewy says.
"No. I want you to do stuff to me," Nolan replies.
Hewy thought about it, replying, "I don't have Geoff to help me."
"What do you want to do?" Nolan left it open.
"I still have to piss?"
The room was titled, which would make cleanup easy, but Nolan asks, "How about in the tub?"
This was not your usual tub. Three men could have fit easily into the square compartment.
"How about I sit here?" Seeing the soap dishes, built into the walls, an arms-stretch, Nolan reaches out both arms, hands grabbing hold of the ceramic bars. "Hey, this is perfect!"
Perfect, because it stretched his bod out straight, from arm to arm, leaving little room behind to recline.
"I think maybe you get on your knees?"
Following Hewy's suggestion, Nolan, whom he thought Hewy was going too easy on him, "You're the boss." Nolan gets up on his knees. Then realizing Hewy is standing there, totally in the buff, he says, "Gosh, you're beautiful!"
He had to desperately piss, but right now, seeing Nolan on his knees, Hewy wanted to return the compliment. Stepping forwards, he slips back into roleplay, "Open up boy!"
Nolan wasn't sure about this, but for one thing he wanted Hewy's cock inside his mouth, so dropped his chin. For a while they worked up a rhythm, sway of Hewy's hips matching massaging lips.
"Oh! Oh-h! Oh!" Hewy cooed as he toyed with the ring on his right nip, other hand pulling and releasing Nolan's head.
At first, the mention of pissing, Nolan thought he was going to have the streams of yellow-hot streaming down his chest, but now he wasn't so sure it was not going to be on the `inside' of his chest! Yet, it felt so, so good to suck on the twenty year old's hard tube, encased in soft tissue. Also, each time Hewy pulled on his head he felt the tip at the back of his throat, Nolan almost yearning to feel it go farther, even if it did choke the living daylights out of him. After awhile he forgot about the piss and awaited the stream of hot cream. In horror, he thought of instead of cream, hot lemonade?
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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.