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 06 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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The mail cart left outside the door came in very handy. With a fast turn on its side, Demont quickly emptied the few contents. He whistled, still canvassing the hallway to make sure the litter he left behind would not come back to haunt him, as his doing. Rolling it inside, he says to Aaron, still bound and gagged, "Time to take a little ride out to the parking lot!"
Aaron's thoughts had been, Doug and Demont having their fun and then being released.
It had occurred, as always Demont taking the chance, when his victim is released, he'll go cry wolf over his incarceration, go blabbing about how he was tied up, not being able to do a damn thing about being tortured or raped. After learning of the copy center's `wimp' taking the upper hand, he's not at all intimidated. Too, Demont hadn't any intentions of letting his bounty go free. "Yep! We's gonna have fun at the dungeon party tonight!" On his min also was a premonition, after stringing Aaron up, having some fun with his bod, work those balls till they are purple, bust that ass some more, inviting others to empty their balls, Demont figures Aaron will pretty much be begging for more abuse. "Yep," he tumbles Aaron off the table and into the large, rectangular cart, "you and me... we gonna make a great team!"
Aaron was just a bully, a hometown big shot who liked to torment guys he deemed weak in character and actions, shy guys, `wimps'. Of his immediate future, he hadn't a clue to what was churning in Demont's head. Soon enough though he would be on his first excursion to a real life dungeon party.
In Demont's opinion, he knew, `knew', was completely assuring himself, after partying tonight, he would have no trouble with Aaron being his personal slut-slave!
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After a few minutes of necking, Hector's soft, sweet voice mentions, as his hands grab up Nolan's melons, "Gonna have some `hot' fun partying in the dungeon tonight!"
"Look... I..." Nolan stutters with uncertainty.
"Shh-h-h," Hectors assures Nolan, "remember I use safewords and... I won't dare hurt a hair on that pretty little head of yours!"
Throwing it back in Hector's face, as with their conversation upon meeting, "Classic line!"
Like he meant it, Hector starts in on the kissing again.
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Standing in front of Diamond Joe's, Yalin, Jake and Doug stood, looking up at the sign, their eyes falling upon the `live' mannequins in the window.
Being forward, Jake says of one of the dudes, donning a speedo and sandals, "Oh man... if his jewels fill a pouch like that... I gotta definitely have one of those!"
Doug says, "You take the speedo. I'll take him!"
On the contrary, Yalin pays no mind to his two buds eyeing up the smooth dude in the speedo. On the other side of the doorway, his eyes are glued to the surfer, holding an authentic surfboard. Standing sideways, a nip protrudes through the dark chest hair. He bites his lip, in anticipation of what could be hidden by the surfboard. Churning down below, he walks to the door, grabs the closest friend, Jake, by the shirt and says, "C'mon guys."
Doug follows, looking back at the speedo-dude, glancing quickly to where Yalin's eyes were glued and spying beyond that, the model in sunglasses, fully clothed from the shins up, a Quiksilver hat on his head. He makes a comment, one falling on deaf ears, other than his own, "You got yours..." he rubs both hands, "and I've found mine!"
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About to roll the mail cart out into the hallway, Demont talks to the inside of the basket, "You make any commotion to draw attention and I'll make sure you pay!"
Of course Aaron could not answer, Doug's draws still blocking the passage of words, but he got the message. He was very much staying hard because of this whole scenario and with Demont's warning, it gave further stimulation, feeling it in his tied off balls. In the dark of the basket, as it passed over the door landing, Aaron wasn't thinking of being in any kind of danger. In reality, he was taking this all in as an exciting trip to a fantasy he's always had stashed away.
Whistling a tune to fend off his nervous demeanor, Demont wheeled the cart down the hallway, his destination, the elevator.
"Delivering mail now, Demont?" An employee inquired.
"Doing Michael a favor," Demont replied, picking Michael out of the hat of many mail delivery guys, because they had something going between them. "Whew!" he said, lucking out, his co-worker not looking down into the basket. He was amazed, upon getting into the solitary elevator of Aaron, "Behaving yourself... good boy!" He laughed, but suddenly got scared out of his gourd, the elevator stuttering between floors. "Oh shit! What the fuck was that all about!" He looked up at the board, it saying he was at the fifth floor. He wanted the parking garage! "I'll take anything at this point," he said to himself. He pressed the open button five times. It didn't open. Instead, someone from the outside cued up the elevator.
Doors opening, he was ushered out, the worker stepping in.
Demont scratched his head, wondering what to do now. `The stairs', it occurred to him. Enroute, he stopping midway, thinking what an idiotic idea. He suddenly stood up straight, wondering what the tapping was behind him. Turning, he came front to front with the supply closet. His face showed his inquisitiveness.
He listened. Silence prevailed.
He was about to forsake his imaginings, when he heard it again. "You locked in there?" he called out. Turning the handle, it turned!
As with Aaron, Corin, bundled up on the floor where Hector left him, he tried mumbling through the gag, this time Hector leaving behind his briefs.
"Pew!" he wrinkled up his nose, Demont's first reaction to the semen stench. Then, a huge grin painted across his face, he says, "Oh lawdy, lawdy, lawdy, thank you, thank you, thank you," his two hands prayed, "what's better than one boy at a dungeon party?"
In no time Corin was sharing the mail cart with Aaron!
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While Yalin and Jake checked out the surfboard and speedo models, Doug's attention drew him to the beach boy in the far window panel. Shy, he says, "I like your outfit."
He wasn't supposed to move, an attribute to being a good window display model. Ahead of time he was warned, being badgered by his fellow modelers, `even if a flock of hot guys passed by the store window!' His intuition bore down, his head slightly moving to the interior of the store. He manages to say through clenched teeth, "Hey."
For Doug, this was a moment of bliss, a hot guy replying in the positive, instead of a cold, `fuck-off wimp!' He wasn't sure what to say, Doug coming up with, "You look good in the window." He smiled.
Again, the mouth hardly moved, "I'm Denis. I'm out of here in ten minutes."
Whoa!' Doug thought, introducing himself to a hot, not to mention hairy' guy, and pulling it off!
"What a fuckwad!" Jake was saying, him and Yalin meeting up with Doug, walking down the main aisle of the men's high end clothing store.
Yalin's opinion of the model he stalked, "Cold. Not exactly Mr. Personality either!"
"Hey guys, how did you make out," Doug acted on the contrary, all bubbly and showing excitement.
Commenting, Jake says, "Well at least one of us scored." He high5-ed Doug.
Yalin would have done the same thing, only his mind beamed ahead, looking towards the lingerie counter. "I think I will go look at the socks."
Placing his hands on his hips, Jake whined, "Dammit! I wish I'd seen him first!"
"Would either of you gentlemen care for some help?"
Doug's eyes were already on him, but his interest still lay on the window-dude.
On the other hand, Jake melted, turning around to have the tall, dirty blond guy almost in his face. With intentionally eyeing him up and down, he replies, "Oh boy do I need help!"
Chuckling, the salesclerk replies, a hand out for a gentleman's greeting, "My name is Adam," presents black and white cards to each, Jake and Yalin, whom look at it, look at Adam, as if trying to match the face to the name on the card, Adam Crew.
"Cool," Jake replied without much energy added. Anyone analyzing the situation would clearly see Jake suddenly shifted his interest.
However, whereas Adam turned Jake off, Yalin follows, retaking Adam's hand, shaking it with two of his, "Thank you very much."
Adam smiles when Yalin immediately follows up with, "I don't know what I am looking for." Very much wanting to assist both, Adam loses track of Jake, who has wondered away. He then quizzes Yalin, "Shirts? Pants? Socks? Shoes? Dress? Casual?"
"Yes!" Yalin answers.
"Well, okay!" Adam replies, a few things running through his mind, first the cute manner in which Yalin is conducting himself, second, grateful his friend has walked away, third, this is going to take some time, to his advantage because then he can get to know the tanned gentleman.
Yalin following Adam, he carefully eyed him up and down, not detecting anything physical, but the cool means by which he walked, talked while he walked... the voice alone turning him on!
Meanwhile, Doug had set to do pretty much the same. Because the guy he was checking out stood still as a statue in the window, he gazed from afar, analyzing the structure of his bod. Loving the model's physique, he wondered if he worked out. He didn't, which Doug thought would be a strike against him. Too, he didn't even come close to the dirty blond stripe running down the `surfers' stomach, starting point emerging from hairy pecs, shooting straight down, a little in-and-out, then continued as a more bushy trail, till it hit the rim of the boardshorts. He smiled, thinking of his own stomach, rounded. Forgetting about physical traits, Doug was nudged out of his dreamlike state by movement in the window. "Oh shit!" Was heard, simultaneously with glass breaking. Throwing the surfboard on the floor of the display window, Denis hopped out, avoiding the breakage, occurring when the model turned to take his leave, the end of the board striking the glass.
"Excuse me a moment?"
Yalin followed, more slowly, as Adam ran to the front of the store.
Denis stood there a little shaken up.
Same time, Adam arrives as does Doug, him asking, "Are you alright?" with Adam.
One difference though, Adam throws his arms around Denis.
Doug backs off. Even though he was concerned, he's disappointed, thinking Denis is already `taken'.
He cheers up when he hears the sales-dude ask, "Close call bro!"
"I know," Denis replies, looking into the window, seeing the surfboard littered with glass.
An older guy approaches, yelling, "Anybody hurt?"
Doug is even more relieved to hear the guy, his arm around Denis' shoulder, announce, "My brother's sorry Joe, for breaking the window."
"I really am," Denis replied, dropping the tougher tone used with Doug. He adds, "I suppose you're gonna fire me, huh?"
Rubbing his brother's back to calm him, Adam outspokenly says, "I'll pay for the window Joe."
Joe Diamond knows the whole story of what happened to Denis and feeling bad for the teen, replies, "Nonsense Adam. I am only thankful no one got hurt." Directing to Denis' face, "You're not hurt are you Denis?"
"No. Just disappointed," he hangs his head.
"Hey listen," Joe tips his chin up, "windows can be replaced. A model as handsome as yourself cannot!"
"Thanks," Denis replies in a lowly tone.
Surveying the situation, Joe leaves them, stepping lively out the front door. He spots a guy, not one of his employees, standing guard over the glass on the sidewalk.
"I'm jinxed."
"You're not jinxed, Denis!" Adam tells him.
"My first day on the job and look what I've done. Who knows what's going to happen the second day!"
"Let's take it one day at a time, Den?"
"Sure," but Denis still remains in a depressed mood.
Still under his wing, the most prized possession in his life, Adam ushers his `little' bro over to a door, saying, "Why don't you concentrate on getting dressed and when I'm finished with my customer, we can go get a bite to eat?"
With the door cracked open, facing Adam, Denis glances to the side, saying , "Wanna come?"
"Me?" Doug replies.
His attention drawn to Doug, Adam turns back to Denis, "Denis?"
Yalin to the rescue, informs Adam, "Doug is my co-worker," laying it on thick, "and friend. Believe me, he will be fine with your brother."
He had strong doubts, especially concerning his eighteen year old brother and the misfortune which fell upon him several months prior. However, it made a big, big difference, this handsome customer vouching for the stranger, whom Adam had sensed a thoughtful attitude, he had a trusting sentiment towards already. Approached by Denis, "I see. Alright," and wagging his finger at his bro, "No funny stuff, okay?"
"Cool," Denis seemed to brighten up. Of course Adam meant no `gay' stuff, but how could he explain it in the populated store.
"Are you sure your friend will be okay with Denis?"
Smiling, Yalin explains, unconsciously placing his hand on Adam's shoulder, "Trust me."
He's heard those words before. Last time, it was a very nice guy who took Denis away for the weekend, which turned into a week. He felt like such a fuckin' idiot, allowing his eighteen year old brother drive up to a cabin on the lake with a college-aged guy. Hating himself, he hid the fact, having to put up a front in order to attend to Yalin.
Knowing Adam was finding it tough to make up his mind, Yalin replies to his feelings, "You can trust Doug, Adam."
"I suppose," Adam replies. At first having reservations, Doug had to admit, deep down in his heart he knew he could be trusting. "Where were we?"
"You were showing me some shirts?"
"Oh yes," Adam replied. In no time he was back in the swing of things.
Out front, Joe Diamond is explaining to police the situation, but not oblivious to the fact, Jake standing by. After he tells what he knows, surfboard turning the window into shards of glass, he turns back to Jake, saying, "Oh you don't have to do that!"
Some maintenance people from the store had brought out brooms, then disappeared back inside.
"I don't mind. Somebody might slip and fall. You don't want a lawsuit on your hands," Jake replies, sweeping.
"I wonder what happened to...."
"They went back inside. Jill was busting the guy she called, Tiny', for forgetting the garbage cans," Jake reports with humor, because they did' resemble a comedy act.
"I see."
Feeling kind of funny, Jake swept, but was more swept up in the feeling he was constantly being checked out!
"We're back!"
Relieved of his broom, with a thank you from Jill, Joe invites him, "I have some tea on the boil if you're interested?"
"Okay," Jake replies. Following Joe back into the store, Jake is now doing the checking out. Right away, the age difference hits him, thinking Joe twice his age. `So what!' he thinks to himself, smiling. After the survey he looks about, as far as he can see, far and wide, for his friends. He sees Yalin over by the fitting room, a shirt on, hanging over his pants. As for Doug, it's still a mystery to him.
"Do you by chance like cheesecake?"
"I love cheesecake," Jake replies. "What kind ya got?"
"Chocolate?"
Upon entering a very large office, nice display of furnishings, found in an office, additions of nontraditional furniture, Jake doesn't say so, but motions with his head, `this is nice!'
Facing each other, Jake right away gets the mental picture, `knowing' something queer about Joe. Outside, with all the commotion, they hadn't introduced each other. Sticking out his hand, he says to the man "Hi! I'm Jake Golubovic..." then right after, "Oh, I meant not to do that."
"Do what?"
"Nothing," he replies, shamed because he wanted to change his name. "So who are you? You work here?"
Obviously, since they were in the back drop of the store.
"Yes, I work here," Joe replies, keeping up his charade.
"Cool of somebody to let you sales-guys have a coffee break with all these desserts. The cheesecake's great by the way."
He hands Jake a napkin.
Wiping, Jake looks at the cheesecake on the white, fabric napkin.
"You missed a bit," Joe says. Force of habit, since he's done this with other men before, friends, partners, business people he's known for years, he takes up a napkin and dabs the corner of Jake's mouth.
"Thanks!" Jake replies.
"Oh I'm so sorry," Joe returns.
"What for?" Jake asks, taking in another laden fork.
Joe replies, "I shouldn't be so forward."
"It's okay. I would probably do it for you."
"You've already helped me out with sweeping up the sidewalk. I owe you a debt of gratitude."
Secretly Joe wanted this to broaden, blossom into a friendship, because deep down inside he was yearning to meet another man, stir up a close relationship. One thing which swayed him towards Jake was the image'. A prerequisite with meeting a man, he had to be a certain type. Hair color, eyes, size' wasn't an issue, but the perfect guy of his dreams had to resemble a class of men known as a bear'. In Jake's case, Joe was ready to shower his feeling over his new found cub'.
"Eh, it was nothing," Jake shooed it away.
"It was `not' nothing," Joe insists.
He noticed, Jake standing there, plate in one hand, fork in the other, the front of Joe's shirt closer to the china plate by one step.
"Okay. If you say so. So where's some of that tea?" He asks, putting down the plate, fork across the remnants.
"I have several varieties."
Now Jake was sure he was sure, Joe standing there, not making a move. He decides to play around, asking, "I always take a little cream in my tea. What about you?"
Another step forward, the thirty-two year old shop owner feels like he's already `tasting' Jake, whether it was his lips, the dark mat of his chest, flaunted by the opening of his shirt or the part of Jake's bod he didn't see yet, hidden by his pants.
"I like a whole lot of cream!"
"Cool!" Jake said of Joe's advancement.
Staring, Jake knew now, Joe almost in his face.
Taking in the view a little lower, Joe notices, "Did you know your shirt is buttoned unevenly?"
"Is it?" He knew! "Horrors! It's probably been buttoned like that all day at work!" Taking a big, big, humongous, giant leap of faith he asks, "Want to fix it for me?" He held his breath.
"I thought you'd never ask!" Joe replies.
With sweat on his brow, Joe's hands dart out in front of himself, going for the third button down, pivoted through the fourth buttonhole.
Opening Jake's shirt, he pulls it out of the teen's pants, moves it towards his shoulders, till it falls backwards, gathering behind Jake's bod at his wrists.
"Magnifique! Beautiful! Just beautiful!" he says as if looking at a model in a Holden suit.
Smiling, Jake gives permission, "You can touch."
Giggling, Joe lifts his hands and places them on Jake's hairy pecs. "This... it has such a nice feeling to it," he judges, based on his fingers feeling up the rug.
How Jake agreed, as Joe's hands combed through his soft fur.
A hand goes for broke, Joe moving down the concave stomach. "I love it!"
"You like fat guys?" Jake asks.
"Fat? You're not fat," Joe replies, returning his eyes to Jake. Looking at, feeling up the roundedness, he says, "Only a little plump. But I `love' plump!"
"No way," Jake disputes. "Skinny guys like you don't like fat guys."
"Plump," Joe says, hands still, but still in contact with the fur.
"Okay, plump. Whatever. Still..."
"I have a confession."
Joking, Jake replies, putting it to Joe, "You're gay?"
It was like writing on the wall, so Joe replies, "And I take it you are also, or else you would have punched my lights out minutes ago?"
Looking around the plush room, Jake asks, "Is this an office or something?" He noticed in the background, the desk, table and computers.
"This is `my' office."
"A sales guy and.... oh my god!" It was on Jake's mind to forget the tea and get with some necking, but to his total surprise and joy, Joe puts a kink in his neck and cups his lips over Jake's right pec, his tongue massaging his nip!
His eyes down, the eighteen year old was watching this older dude, getting rough on his right nip, a hand tweaking the other.
Stopping, Joe asks, "Am I being too rough?"
"Oh no. Not rough enough. I've got sensitive nips that `beg' for attention!"
Dropping his hand, Joe asks with an evil smile, "And how about down here?"
"I love it all, but my friends are going to wonder where I am?"
`Rats!' thought Joe, about to unbuckle Jake's belt. Right away he interjects, "What are you doing for dinner this evening?"
"Um," Jake thinks, "I dunno. I have to see what my friends are doing."
Butting his bod up against Jake's bare stomach, he replies, "I thought maybe we could have dinner at Chez Jean-Philippe?"
"Phil's place?" Jake and his friends abbreviated the lush, expensive French eatery. "You've gotta have big bucks to go there. I'm out!"
Stepping back, Diamond Joe wondered, "You came to shop with your friends, didn't you?" Joe had it in mind one of Jake's friends was footing the bill, but put it to him anyway, since he mentioned the `high-end cuisine'.
"Yeah?" he replies, a bit confused.
His manner of questioning provoked Joe, "Then you mind answering how you were going to pay for it?"
It left a sour taste on his tongue, Jake thinking of Joe accusing him of something, him replying negatively, "We weren't going to steal the stuff, you know?" He starts buttoning up his shirt, not caring which button was pushed through what eyelet.
"Sorry," Joe replied, making a fast advance towards Jake, hoping to make instant repair of their casual gathering, figuring he better quickly make amends or else he's going to lose his plump cub, "I wasn't making accusations." Because he's already admitted to himself he can go for the cub, "I don't care about the money and if it means anything I trust you completely."
"Oh really?" Jake still has his doubts. "Then why'd you ask?"
Replying, a quaint smile returns to Joe's face as he says, "I don't care if you came in with no money in your pocket. Take the stuff for all I care!"
Raising a brow, Jake replies, "You know what?"
"What?"
"You're weird!"
He didn't make a move, stood there, which told Joe all was not hopeless.
"Then if your friends aren't doing anything you will come to dinner with me?"
Since this wasn't part the provision in Nolan's use of the credit card, Jake replies, "Okay, but you're paying!"
Thinking Joe was going to back out of the deal, instead he was utterly surprised when he instead leaned forward, said, "Fine with me," and sealed it with a kiss!
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"Your brother sounds like he doesn't trust you," Doug asks.
Getting a birds-eye view, he watches as Denis lowers his boardshorts, seeing first the front, then his smooth ass, as he turns to the locker.
"I got into some bad trouble a few months back. Now he's being very protective of me, overly conscious of where I go and who I meet."
"That doesn't bother you?" Doug asks.
"It does and it doesn't. I like my privacy, but with our folks gone, it's good to know there is someone nearby who loves and cares for me," Denis says, turning to Doug as he steps into his briefs, packing his wares away.
Checking it out, Doug asks, "You don't have a boyfriend?"
"I knew a guy. He wasn't really my boyfriend, but he pretended to be. It's a long story," of which Denis wasn't ready to get into.
"No problem," Doug replies. "Whenever you're ready you can tell me."
Getting it, whether Doug did or not, Denis is suddenly aware Doug is not going to `go away'.
"That's cool," Denis replies.
Nothing else was said for the better part of a few seconds, Doug clearing the atmosphere, "Hey, you want to help me pick out some clothes?"
Down, Denis replies, "It's probably what Mr. Diamond is going to have me doing tomorrow, after I broke his window. I might as well get used to it, that is if he doesn't can me all together."
Detecting something wasn't going along well with Denis, Doug says, "We can skip it if you want and I can have one of the other helpers help me."
"Helpers?" Denis replies as he placed a tee shirt over his head.
"Well they are, aren't they? Helping people to pick out stuff and spend their money?"
Gazing at Doug, Dennis asks, "You got money?"
"I know," Doug admits, looking down upon his office duds, bland tie on the wrinkled shirt, "it doesn't look like it, does it?"
"Hey, don't get me wrong. I'm not exactly rolling in the dough either, except for the allowance Adam gives me every month."
"Adam. He's your guardian or something?"
"He's my brother, but he does love and care for me. Has been close to me ever since our folks died. We're all each of us has and I felt very lucky to have him around, especially after what happened." From confident, to sad, Denis' voice declined towards the end of his speaking.
"You don't have to say anything," Doug says. "Keep in mind though, if you need somebody to listen, I'm a good listener!" He pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose.
"Thanks," Denis replied.
Making discovery, Doug smiled when Denis reached in his locker, taking out an eyeglass case and placed glasses on his nose, adjusting them at the ears.
"How do I look?" Denis asks.
His eyes darting downwards, Doug replies, "Um, I think you forgot something?"
Feeling the breeze first, Denis curses himself out, "I'm so stoopid!"
He was about to walk out of the private locker room without pants!
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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.
"The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... spread happiness!" TCMcP