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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HuNKeR'd DoWN 02 a continuation of `CoMPany payLoaD', WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"That's like so wrong!"
"Oh man that sucks!"
Usually, when Art Smith drew up the roster for disciplining, it was tacked on the bulletin board outside the security office. Opposite intention, there was a notice saying, `Due to Art Smith's retirement from Elemental Habitat, the scheduling of discipline has been postponed until after Christmas.'
"I can't believe how hard we worked to get on the list, to have the punishment postponed," Noah says, really looking forward to the session.
Little did they know, Demont, having to pass by, caught an earful, saying, "Problem boys?"
"Us?" Scott questions, right hand slapping against his shirt, acting suspicious without intent to do so.
His friend, Noah, looking up, because Demont was 6'4" and he and his friend less than six feet tall, replies, "No problem with us sir."
When Art Smith was taken out, a result of his outburst in Nolan's office, giving Yalin a near-concussion, the elite security outfit outside Elemental Habitat, after a scrutinizing interrogation had found out plenty about the former security manager. It didn't take long for a security report to be drawn up on account of Art not being able to take the pressure.
Based on that report and how Art Smith ran things, Demont has an idea of why these two ranch hands looked so distraught at the former security chief's `retirement', confronting the two, "I bet you really feel bad about Smith retiring, huh?"
Scott had a notion to where Demont was going with this, turning to his friend, putting the question to him, "Noah?"
Right away, Demont gets the impression of weak' versus strong', Scott blowing him off, allowing his friend to do the talking, so he switches, puts the pressure on Noah, "Well? What do you have to say for yourselves?"
"Ah, yeah," Noah replies in an unconvincing manner.
Ready to unveil the secrecy surrounding his identity, Demont says, "I'm Art Smith's replacement and..."
And before Demont could complete, "Day-am!" Scott calls out. Right away, things got a ticking, Scott a lurch in the softness of his pubes.
Thinking his friend was going to let on about their total abandonment to corporal punishment, nervously Noah reprimands his buddy, "Scott, will you shutup?"
To Demont, maybe it looked like Noah having an alpha-male hold over Scott, but with the ability to `read' guys, he folds his arms over his middle and in a demonstration of a bold, masterful apparition, "On the contrary, I'd be interested in hearing what Scott has to say!"
Scott looks to Noah, as if asking for permission to speak.
Of course, Demont right there in the presence of both, Noah could not direct his buddy to say this or to not say that, so resigned to standing there, biting his lip, hoping his friend would not say anything which would implicate them both in why they were so disappointed with Art Smith's retirement, bent on having a hot disciplinary session.
Well it didn't happen the way Noah wanted it to go, Scott telling all, Noah probably ready to piss in his pants with embarrassment.
However, at the conclusion, both saw Demont not ridiculing them for liking things of a fetish nature. He wasn't even phased with Scott telling him he liked stuff done to his nips and balls.
Noah had said Scott, shut up,' a couple of times, when Scott told, whereas Noah thought of it as ratting him out', about Noah liking his sixpack gut-punch-tested, "Scott, will ya shut up?"
Hearing of it, Demont thought it an invitation to humiliate, "Gut-punch-tested? Hmm, work out do you?" he stare at Noah, right above his belt buckle.
"Uh, yeah," Noah replies, standing there with his hands to his sides.
It was a strange meetup of sorts and now that all was said, Demont took a quick lick of lips, a strong desire to see under Noah's shirt.
He didn't need to fabricate an excuse for doing so, Scott saying, "Show him your smokin' hot abs, Noah!"
First appearance, Noah would give any dude the impression he was Scott's alpha partner, but slowly that stealth facade began to weaken. Hands migrated towards the tail of his tee shirt, Noah pulling it out of his pants. At first the thin trail above the belt buckle could be seen, followed by a shallow bellyhole, then bare skin as each ripple of abdominal muscles appears. Noah stopped when both hands had lifted his shirt to pec-lines.
"Nice abs," Demont replies. Minutes ago, sensing the two were here for a reason and the ensuing disappointment of Art Smith's retirement, Demont unfolds his arms and holding his right arm horizontal to his own bod, like flexing a bicep, molds his hand into a fist, saying, "Think those abs can take this battering ram?"
Before Noah can reply, Scott exclaims, "Shit that's fuckin' hot! Do you think you can give me a few punches in the balls?"
Right now, Noah wasn't paying any attention to Scott. For all he cared, his friend could shoot his mouth off all he wanted about how they looked forward to Art Smith tying them up and abusing their bods, but right then and there, Noah got the idea and built on it, "I asked first and you can put me in any position you want me, Demont," Noah says informally, because he frankly did not know anything about the protocol of a bdsm experience.
"Your balls?" Demont snickers. "Nah. I don't use my fists on balls. More fun to tie a lasso around'em, hoist them up and then take a baseball bat to them, but..." he turns from Scott's dropped down jaw, bugged-out eyes, to Noah, "about these abs," Demont lowers his fist and without being hesitant, lines his knuckles up to Noah's lily white stomach, touching, "this is a different story," he leans in a little.
At the touch of knuckles to skin, Noah surrenders with full abandon, head dropping back, sighing out long syllables, "Oh-h-tha-at-fee-els so nice!" Without even thinking, he moves his arms up, hands prayer-folded behind his head.
Scott was hard minutes ago and seeing Noah in full abandon, even though it wasn't his own stomach packed with a fist, he says, "Go ahead Demont. Let's see what damage you can do!"
At Scott's suggestion, Noah tilts his head up, braces his abs for a hefty gut punch and says, "Yeah! Fuckin' do it!"
Dropping his hand, Demont probably, at least for Noah, caused more disappointment than Art Smith's demise, telling them, "I'm not into hurting anyone. When I play it's for fun, not for discipling anyone."
He senses Noah total surrender, him yearning, "Oh c'mon. You have me all psyched up Demont. Just one gut-punch?"
Demont could tell, Noah psyched up, the tent, but skipping over the request, "Not today. No, rather, since Art Smith isn't here I'm going to assume his position of discipline and sentence you two right now."
"Huh?" they both were thrown off.
"Have you read the notice?" Demont asks both.
"Yeah, we did," Noah replies the `after-Christmas' clause.
"Well, as a preliminary to your official punishment," Demont was making it up as he went along, "I have an assignment for you both."
He pauses.
"Assignment?" Scott asks, standing there with both hands in his pockets.
"Since punishments have been put off till after Christmas, for reasons of review, in light of Art Smith's retirement, I am assigning you," he points to Scott, "to get Noah's abs in shape for a hefty gut-punching and..."
"Me?" Scott questions, "Like how am I supposed to do that?"
Noah would much rather have had Demont's big fist plunged into his navel, but since it wasn't in the picture, he was willing to take next best, "Wise up, dumbass! Like he wants you' to gut-punch me'?!"
Demont smiles, thinking there could still be a flicker of hope in turning Noah into a `hot master'!
Scott vehemently disagrees, "I can't punch you in the stomach!"
His far-fetched fantasy widening in range and perspective, Demont lays a palm on Scott's shoulder, saying, "Well Scotty-my-boy, if that be the case, it will be `your' responsibility to find someone who can!"
"Hell yeah, you tell'm Demont!"
Right now, Noah's hand was up and under his shirt, rubbing his rippled abs. His other hand was borderline, clinging to his belt, `wanting' to rub the muscle between his legs.
Not allowing Noah to run wild with emotion, Demont badgers, "I tell you, you can remove your hands from behind your head?"
Two things occur.
Finding Demont way too funny, Scott rips out a wave of laughter, slapping both hands together in a mighty clap of noise, laughing out loud.
Further demonstrating his `master' abilities, Demont turns to Scott and scolds, "Did I tell you to you could break from attention, boy?" even though he didn't order it.
"No!" Scott suddenly halted all actions of glee. "Am I supposed to..." throwing himself into a rigid form of a soldier at attention, he salutes, "Sorry sir! Didn't know I was suppose to be.... in attention that is... sir!" he salutes a second time.
Noah calls it, "Scotty, you wimp!"
Ganging back up on Noah, Demont delves out, "And for you, this week you will be responsible in getting Scotty-boy's balls..." Before Noah could react, Demont reaches down, grabs Noah's crotch and closes his hand around whatever the catch was, "and work them into shape!"
Noah was beside himself in pain, "Ak-k-k-k-k-k-k! Oh-h-h-h-fuck! No-o-o-o-o-o! Shit man!"
Demont releases. He smiles, thinking of Noah calling Scott a `wimp', thinking of the tiny squash he gave Noah's global endowment.
Falling to his knees, his taut abs are the least important thing, Noah valuing his family jewels more, mumbling, "Oh shit, man..."
It didn't go without Scott saying, "Oh shit man. That was so fuckin' hot!" Sheepishly, since he knew he broke formation, asks meekly, "Um, you think you can do mine a little bit?"
Flatly refusing, Demont replies, "I've given you boys an assignment and I expect you to follow through! From there, Demont left the two, a word of advice over his shoulder, "Be ready, boys!"
Walking down the hall, memories of life over the past couple of weeks flashed by, conjuring up faces of playing at the Bear & Grill, all the boys, submissives and sadists, beginners and seasoned dudes, all there for a common purpose.
In his mind, Scott and Noah were no different. However, he focused on what would occur a week from now. Gut-punching and CBT would not be punishment. Nah, focusing on their punishment, Demont had it in mind all those little glass windows in the lobby of Elemental Habitat and didn't want to even think of how long it would take two guys to wash every single one of them. He giggled at the thought!
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"Looks like you made yourself a new friend, huh?" Nolan says to Hewy, clearing out of the habitat cafe.
Hewy thought it cool, Tommy knowing all about snowboarding, enough to become his tutor, but there was another side of the coin, "It doesn't bother you that Tommy and his brother were part of a plot to kidnap you?"
"Well I don't know about his brother, but would think Tommy the criminal type?"
"Not in the least!" Hewy replies.
In reply, Nolan says, "There you have it. Already we two are thinking alike."
"I'm sorry I had to ask."
"Why be sorry?" Nolan puts it to him.
Shrugging his shoulders, Hewy says, "Because I like Tommy." Sensing the way Nolan and Thor joked around, "Probably almost as much as you and Thor like each other?"
Knowing where Hewy was going with this, Nolan replies, "I guess almost as much as I like you?!"
Already with a mutual feeling towards such, Hewy thought it a good time to bring up, "Then I suppose it's okay I picked out a snowboard for myself?"
"Of course I don't mind," Nolan squeezed Hewy's free hand, "but there's one thing which concerns me."
"What's that?"
With fake repose, Nolan says, "Well, what are Thor and I supposed to do while you and Tommy are out snowboarding?"
He could think of a few things, Hewy suggestive, "Share a cup of hot cocoa?"
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In the early morning hours, David Scheslinger and Dillon Li had dropped out of sight. David had wondered, instead of the two going to the security shed, where Dillon now resided, Dillon having insisted on the new wing of the Verts.
Entering the room chosen by Dillon, David did think it strange they were going to have a nice beginning to their relationship in a room where the furnishings were not quite up to par with the rest of the Verts. There were beds, but no mattresses, nor fixings for the beds.
David did get quite a jolt of excitement, Dillon suggesting some bondage and discipline roleplaying, however that was three hours ago and here David was, attached to a bar in a closet, wrists tethered to the vertical pole, neither able to completely stand, nor kneel, an in between stance. He couldn't see too clearly, Dillon having turned the lights out in the room before he left, again saying he would be right back, it being hours prior. David could look down his bod, but was totally unsure of his cinched balls, some object hanging from them, which felt good to him still, but not sure what color his balls had turned.
"Dammit all!" He exclaims, moving about.
It wasn't his roped up balls which bothered him. On the contrary, it still felt awesome having `whatever-it-was' making them gently swing, but the fact David's hands were incapacitated enough so he could not reach his cock and so badly wanting to make it part of the euphoric chain reaction.
Suddenly he heard somebody fidgeting with the numbered lock on the door and yelled out at the top of his lungs, "It's about time!"
However, expecting Dillon wasn't the case. Instead, David Gourou, who had just been moved up in position, from outside to inside security entered, followed by two ranch hands, delivering mattresses to the room.
"Who are you?" David stood there, opening the partially closed closet door. More important, "How did you... get like that?" David scanned David's bod, all trussed up in ropes and what was hanging from his balls.
Jorge, one of the deliverers, leaves Esteban holding the mattress from falling over and when he sees David, "Shit man, what's that hanging from your balls?"
Perturbed by Dillon not returning and perhaps out of context with the bdsm/dungeon scene, David was a bit embarrassed by his predicament, wiseassing off to Jorge, "Jealous?"
Sensing or seeing David eager to get rid of the spectators, he takes Jorge by the shoulders, turns him away from David hanging there and saying, "Okay boys. The show's over."
Jorge replies, "But we got the other mattress to bring in."
"You can leave it outside the door," David replies.
With the door shut, David exhales, wondering how he's going to handle `this one'.
"Um, excuse me, but do you think you can manage to get me out of this?"
It was David's buyout, the security man turning around, a hand turning on the central lighting system, which lit up the perimeter of the room, the white ceiling reflecting it all around. Walking over to the closet, he first asks, "What's your name?"
"David. David Schlesinger. Um, think can loosen these ropes? I've been here for about three hours and..."
"Three hours?" the security man renders, whistling out his exclamation after looking down at David's pubes.
"I know," David replies to the intent gaze. "By now my balls must kind of blue."
Kneeling down, most likely out of curiosity, never seeing a man's balls bound up and a short piece of 2x4 hanging from them, says, "Um, like I'm not sure I know how to..."
Reading the dude's mind, David looks down his own bod, says, "If you can just untie my wrists, I can handle my own balls?"
"Sure," David replies, standing.
Sighing, because after three hours of roped up wrists, David felt the pangs of blood recirculating.
"By the way, my name is David," he says to David, untying the other wrist.
David loved the bdsm scene, in particular bondage and getting gut-punched, coupled with some hot cock and ball torture, but bound up the way he was for so many hours, it was real torture standing up straight and tall, complaining, "Oh my god! I'm like so sore all over!"
Catching David as he seemed like collapsing, David slings David's arm over his shoulder and walks him over to the bed having the mattress, talking him, "One foot at a time. That's it. You're getting it, David."
"Oh-h-h-h-h-h-h!" David winces when David drops him into the bed, falling on his back.
"I hate to ask, but I'm curious. Which hurts more, your back or your balls?"
"Oh, I forgot," David says about his balls, still in captivity. "Can you help me sit up?"
David helped David adjust from a reclining position, which made him do the logical thing, sit halfway on the bed.
"I think I can reach," David replies.
"Are you sure?" David asks. From his position, holding David in the adapted stance, he was almost positive, to reach his balls it would take more than a sit up.
"No," David replies, reaching for his balls, followed by the pain of repositioning the 2x4 between his legs, "Ooh-h-h-h-h that's smartz!" He withdraws his hands. "Um, I hate to ask this David, but..."
"Here, lay back," David was careful to making David lay back down on the bed.
The only means by which David could physically attend to the 2x4 tethered to David's balls was a head on approach, bending over and seeing where it was initially tied. "Next!" he said, when not able to grasp the situation from this position.
"What'samatter?" David asks, lying there with hands behind his head, in a relaxed manner, using his palms to elevate himself into crunch position.
Seeing David's abs flex, it occurs to David, "You workout?"
Without saying he did for a reason, to keep his sixpack up to date for his fetish, David replies, "Yeah. You?" throwing it back into David's court.
At twenty-three years old, David Goudrou had been a regular to the gym since high school. Security was a demanding lifestyle at times and to be in peak physical shape was a plus, responding, "Every night after my shift is over, but now that I'm going to days, I suppose that will change."
Maybe ten minutes ago David was embarrassed by being seen in bondage, his balls especially and because of David studying them, "If you can't figure out anything, maybe you can dig up a pair of scissors?"
Reaching in his pocket, David replies, "Got my trusty pen knife?" He flicks out a blade.
Gulping, David replies, "How good are you at using it?"
Smiling, David says, "Used to fillet a fish in no time at all!"
"Yikes!" David replies, which makes David laugh out loud.
"Trust me. I'll be gentle!"
Sarcastic, but trusting, David says, "Like I've got a choice?"
"Or, I could put you back the way I found you?"
"No, no, no, no, no. I'll take my chances!"
David was very gentle, as promised and very good at using a pen knife. While cutting, he had to handle David's balls of course and he could not contest it was doing something to his `own' balls.
As for David, even though periled by the use of a knife to cut his balls free, he felt embarrassment return when he couldn't keep his cock from reacting!
%
Nolan was glad to see Hewy happy. It was a first for them, official shopping trip for Christmas and after getting back to their quarters, loved the treatment he got.
However, there were drawbacks to new friendships, Hewy informing Nolan, "If it's okay with you, I told Tommy I could meet up with him later and he could show me how to stand on the snowboard?"
About to voice his opinion, Nolan's cell phone was being buzzed. He answered it and was brief at the conversation with the person on the other end. When he signed off, he immediately tells Hewy, "That was Thor. Tommy just informed him he was meeting up with you and asked if I wanted to come over to Atlantis for a drink."
"And you said?" Even though Hewy thought he heard the conversation end of an affirmative note.
Smiling, he was about to okay it before, officially saying, "How could I possibly disappoint you?"
Joking, Hewy replies, "Or Thor?"
With a light edge, but also sending a message, Nolan says, "Hey, I'm with you, remember?"
It provided a scene for a tender moment, the two embracing, but then Hewy scattering off to `get ready'.
Nolan remarks, "Don't forget the condoms!"
Sitting in one of the comfy chairs, Nolan picks up the manual they gave him to read.
Passing by Nolan, Hewy tosses a few little square packages into the center binding of the book. "Just in case you want to `poke' Thor to get his attention!"
As Nolan looks up, a smile on his face, Hewy bends over and gives him a peck on the cheek.
"And oh, Hewy," Nolan calls to his lover, as he's about to walk out the door, snowboard under his arm, "I just wanted to say you look sexy as hell in a muscle shirt!"
Oh his way out, whoever is on the outdoors side of the door, catches it.
Thinking it's Hewy returning, the opening door grabs Nolan's attention, "Forget somethin... oh, it's you!"
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Waking up at such a late hour, after most of the habitat was showered, dressed and doing their Sunday business, Jarrett Horton finally stirs. Face down, his head half under the pillow, he takes a final step in unburying it and does a royal rollover. His first reaction was waking up to a new day. Second, `no headache' from his drinking binge. Third, he pats down the bed to both sides of himself, thinking, "I could have sworn," thinking there was a guy in bed next to him, licking him up and down, sucking him, before he conked out.
Placing both hands on his stomach, he strokes his bear fur up to his pecs, then down past his bellyhole, over his thickly embedded treasure trail, one hand on his treasure. Things were kind of sketchy, so he wasn't sure whether he came last night, but figured he didn't because there wasn't any scaly scum left, if he did have an eruption.
Mediocre about getting off his morning wood, another thought came to him. Jumping out of bed, Jarrett jogs to the door which exits his bedroom, crosses through a common room and opens onto the adjoining suite. He did recall something, two guys curled up in bed together. However, it was not the case.
"That's what I get for being such a sweetheart!"
A couple of days ago he had rescued Corin from the clutches of Art Smith. Thinking they could find something in common, it wasn't the case. At twenty-eight years old, it was no secret to himself, Jarrett preferring guys five, six or seven years younger than himself. Corin fit this description, except the other priority, a dude being more rugged'. Fem' and laidback didn't cut it where pairing up with Corin was concerned.
"Oh well," Jarrett chocks it up to experience, "might as well get a shower!"
Yawning, he crosses back through the small, narrow divide between the bedrooms and is about to enter the one he spent last night in, when there's a knock at his door.
"Oh shit!" he calls out, grabbing a sofa pillow, placing it over his pubes, with partial view of the black bush showing. It's no big deal, this being an all male, mostly gay community, but they strove to keep nudity to the private sector, one's abode. Figuring his cock and balls out of sight was enough to barely get by on the statute. "Yes?"
"Um," one of them gulps, "we're looking for Dillon Li?"
Jarrett very well knew where their traveling eyes were journeying, replying, "I think you have the wrong room. Dillon doesn't live here."
The other dude with him asks, "We know. Y'see, we knew him when he worked in `seedlings'," a nickname for a very long name of the department, "and knew he got transferred to security, but not sure what room and..."
It happened to be Scott Harmon and Noah Plant. Talking over their assignment, addressed to them after meeting Demont, Noah came up with the idea of perhaps Dillon taking an interest in their plight.
Noah acts apologetic, "We're sorry Scott and me caught you in the middle of something."
While Noah talked, Scott observed, his eyes still checking out the hot, hairy pecs, matching stomach fur and beyond.
Thinking he missed out on the apex of any gay meet up, plus the rubbing of the pillow against his endowment, Jarrett kind of got the feeling at least one of these young dudes might be interested in helping him with his dilemma, the one called Scott, which in Jarrett's opinion had been thoroughly checked out, except `round back! Nonchalantly, Jarrett replies, "I was about to take a shower." With quick thinking he suggests, "If you two want to hang out on the sofa, after I'm done, maybe I could help you find your friend?"
Noah immediately says, "Nah. We don't want to put you out."
However, Scott moves right by Noah, nudging him, freely entering and forwardly saying, "I think that would be a cool idea."
Of course Noah could not discount this big bear dude being a hot, hot man. Scott and himself, best friends, they've talked about guys, finding out they loved hairy men, though Noah took things a bit farther, liking the feel of a tight ass.
Walking right past Jarrett, Scott sits on the sofa.
Standing there, hand on the knob, Jarrett asks, "Well, are you going to come in or wait out there for your friend?"
"I suppose I should..." Noah was about finish up with thoughts of coming in, took a few steps inside, took the liberty of closing the door behind him.
It free Jarrett up, him turning towards his bedroom, saying, "Make yourselves comfortable."
On Noah's mind was Jarrett's hairy ass, making his mind wonder.
Short of going in the bedroom, Jarrett halts his steps, "Oh. Here," he tosses the pillow from his pubes, towards the sofa.
It landed right on Scott's lap! Jarrett disappearing, Scott says, "Now `that's' a hot man!"
"What are you doing?" Noah grabs the pillow out of Scott's hands.
Of Scott's sniffing the pillow, "Trying to pick up the scent."
Right before turning on the faucets, Jarrett uttered an evil snicker, taking the bar of soap and tossing it under the vanity. Then, warming up the hot, which took two seconds, he mixes it with the cool and steps in the glass and metal enclosure. Smiling, it made Jarrett grin, thinking of his evil plot, calling out as loud as he could, "Dammit! Hey, could one of you guys come'ere a minute?"
Scott immediately says, "Duty calls!"
Noah wasn't about to let his best bud get ahead of him, right on Scott's tail.
"What's up... hey, what's your name anyway?" Scott asks, a shoulder leaning on the frame of the jon doorway.
Sliding the glass pane to one side, there Jarrett is, soaked from head to toe, water dripping from his beard, chest, stomach and elsewhere. "Oh Scott, it's you. I forgot I used up the soap last shower. Can you look above the vanity for another? And oh, the name's Jarrett."
Even though Scott picked up on Jarrett already knowing his name, as he opens the mirrored door in search for a cake of soap, he says, "I'm Scott," and as he suspected, Noah following behind, "and that's my friend, Noah."
Noah nodded. His hand wanted to do something else, but he didn't dare touch his pants, giving himself away to the fact he loved seeing Jarrett all wet and dripping.
"Got it!" Being sly, after unwrapping it from a biodegradable plastic wrap, Scott asks, "Y'know, I always have trouble reaching my hand down my back to wash it. How about you?"
"Oh brother, Scott!" Noah says, standing there with arms folded across his middle. "Why don't you just come out and ask Jarrett if he wants you to wash his back?"
"I got a better idea," Jarrett replies, "you want to wash my back, Scott?"
"If you want me to?"
And not to stand accused by Noah for beating around the bush, Jarrett adds, "With your clothes off?"
Handing Jarrett the cake of unwrapped soap, Scott strips off his tee shirt, placing it on the hamper.
"I could sure use someone to scrub down my chest?" Jarrett looks towards Noah, their eyes connecting.
"Nah, that's okay. I'll just wait out here," Noah volunteers himself. "I was up late and need to nap for a coupla hours anyway."
"Suit yourself," Jarrett replies, more or less finding out something, which his intuition already told him, Scott more the bottom, bendable type. Turning his attention back to Scott, he was stripped down, except the briefs, Jarrett telling him, "Nice beefy build."
The twenty year old did have a nice build. Wide shoulder, he was genetically a slight swimmer's distance from left to right. Nice pecs, lightly covered with dark brown hair. His midchest took off with a thin, dark line, but half way down, it opened up. Picturing a fir tree, with a deep, dark navel, it's how Scott's abs went. Not quite the gym crowd, the tight elastic around Scott's waist make it look like a little muffin top. The appearance didn't last, Scott's hands busy at removing his briefs, while telling Jarrett, "Thanks," and being forward, Scott asks, "Should I take my briefs off or do you want to do it?"
Answering, Jarrett smiles, saying, "Wouldn't be fair."
"Oh? How's that go?"
"My briefs are already in the hamper!"
"I noticed!" For Jarrett's benefit, Scott play, inserting his thumbs and slowly lowered them, revealing the dark brown hair painting his pubes, but not thick enough to cover up the barrel of his cock, when he got to unveiling it. From there on, Scott made a quick strip, stepping out of each leg-hole. He tosses them on the heap on top of the hamper. "Well, here we are! Like what you see?"
Toying, Jarrett says, "I really can't tell from all the way in here?"
Scott smiles. They only stood no more than two feet from each other. Making up a line, he says, "Y'know, I always have a problem stepping over these things?"
He could have argued the point, the foot and a half retaining wall, keeping the water in and Scott out, but went for it, "Need a hand?"
Playing stupid, Scott says, "Oh, I thought I was washing your back from out here?"
No more playing, Jarrett's anatomy taking the brunt of the play. It was already hard. Surely Scott had noticed, Jarrett thought, because he knew it was hanging, touching the sides of each thigh, weighing heavy on his balls. Grabbing Scott's arm, he didn't leave any choice.
"Oops!" Scott says, standing in the shower, door closed and facing Jarrett. "Guess what?" he looks down.
Knowing Scott forgot to take his socks off, Jarrett decides to both, be a wiseguy and draw up a quickie quiz, "Um, you like my hard cock and wish you had it between your lips?"
Scott meant his socks, but wasn't about to let a good moment go to waste, "I thought I was here to wash your back?"
Guess not!' Jarrett thought, possibility of Scott being a willing bottom. "Sorry bout that," Jarrett says, turning his ass towards Scott.
He had seen Jarrett's rear view when he entered the bedroom, but wet, the hairy ass took on a whole different perspective. `Dayamn!' Scott thought, licking his lips, wondering why he wiseassed-off, instead of being easy about wrapping his lips around Jarrett's hot rod? Perturbed, he thought of a possible solution to redeeming himself, "Uh, do you usually do your chest first or back?"
"The front," Jarrett replies.
Before Jarrett could say `do his back,' since turned around, Scott says, "Okay, then why don't you turn back around and I'll do your front?"
"Why not?" Jarrett says, slapping his thighs and turning back.
"Know what?" Scott asks, staring Jarrett in the face.
"You never touched a guy before?"
"Don't be silly," Scott replies. "Noah and me didn't get to be good friends just because we went to the same school."
Jarrett knew there was a story behind it, but also, being in the security department, knew it was not a wise thing to do, for a ranch hand to discuss how they came to be at the habitat.
Before he could even think up a rebuttal, Scott says, "By the way, I think your cock is kind of hot and if you're in the mood for it, I'd like to see what I can do about making you `feel good'?"
He only smiled, Jarrett knowing his intuition was correct! Perhaps putting Scott off, he remarks, "Oh, I thought you were in here to wash my back?"
It slipped, Scott making light of, "Only if you play with my balls!"
"Oh?" it set Jarrett to thinking.
"Never mind," Scott says, forcing the cake of soap from Jarrett's hand, "forget I mentioned it."
"All right," Jarrett says, thought he couldn't forget it.
"Oops!"
Second time said, it wasn't because Scott still had soaking socks, but because he `accidentally' dropped the soap!
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While explaining what happened to him, even though David did not want to implicate Dillon Li, he did feel a bit angry at Dillon leaving him in bondage, saying he would be right back and still, three hours later, his balls still in traction.
"I've just been moved up, from outdoor, to indoor, daytime security, so I haven't had the chance to get to know everyone," David replies.
David goes on to describe, "Dillon, he's around twenty-five, about 5'10", jet black hair, wears it short cropped."
"Asian?"
"You've seen him?" David questions David, rubbing his sore balls.
"Not, but I'll keep an eye open for him. How's the balls?"
"Tender."
From there, they go into discussing David's fetish for not only having horrible stuff done to his balls, but also gut-punching.
"Can't say I've ever heard of a guy punching another guy in the stomach, on purpose, but I don't condemn it."
"You don't?" David replies, not sure how David would take it, since he was kind of `liking' him and didn't wish to scare him off.
"Nah. In my line of work, well I can't go into what I did before I came to the habitat, but believe me, I've seen `all' kinds!"
"So I haven't made you feel like, `this guy's a weido!'?"
Feeling an attraction, David couldn't kick the habit of staring at David, not his tender balls for the moment, but at his face, right now silent for words.
However, the security man sensed something, David saying to him, "Sorry, but I forgot to thank you for cutting my balls loose."
David, fully clothed, wished it wasn't so, wanting to get it on with David, remarking, "Right, but there's only one problem."
"I don't follow," David replies, going for an article of clothing, his briefs.
"Oh, don't do that."
"Don't what?" David addresses the security man.
"I got an idea. Instead of putting your clothes on, why don't you take mine off?" He makes a strong `statement', plopping his chino-covered ass down on the newly laid mattress.
David laughs.
"What?"
Walking towards David, David says, "Only if you plan on raping me?!"
"Usually I don't on the first date," David says, as David bowls him over, "but I'm slowly having a change of heart!"
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Copyright 2011 T. Chase McPhee
`CoMPany payLoaD/RancH HanDs - HuNKeR'd DoWN', may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.