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, in towns, cities, countries, nor governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most state 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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"For Sale By Owner" 46 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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Alex, remembering how when hE and Kyle first met, the run-in he had with the messy closet, pulling a towel out, having the whole contents of the closet cave in on him. "Would you believe this, Vince?"
Laughing, Vince replied, "Yeah. Got one at home just like this!"
"No. You don't understand. Only two weeks ago I had everything piled nice and neat in here. Towels over here, rolls of toilet paper down here and.... oh, here it is. This was on the bottom when I cleaned it out. Would you believe it made it to the top in two weeks?"
"Nope," Vince replied, watching Alex's back as he reached up to pull the sleeping bag down from the skinny top shelf, his shirt hiking up, the small of his back showing some sketchy black hair.
"Need a hand?" He asked, on purpose rubbing his bod against Alex's.
After the bag was down and in Vince's hand, Alex seriously said, "Please don't do that again?"
Vince almost said, 'do what?', but instead fessed up to his little deed of shenanigans. "Yeah, okay. You got me Alex. Sorry about that. Happens when a guy is deprived, but I guess I shouldn't have done it with you. I mean, you guys are decent, not like.... never mind. I should be ashamed of myself!"
Alex, seeing Vince heartfully sorry for trying to play up to him, responded more upbeat. "Yeah okay. So shutup and get that sleeping bag downstairs before its morning!"
"Yes, sir!" Vince replied, saluting as he stuffed the sleeping bag under his other arm.
Standing at the closet, Alex shook his head back and forth, stuffing a towel in and forsaking the abominable condition, forcing the door to latch closed. As he was going down the stairs, Vince was returning.
"Um, you wouldn't happen to have an extra pillow would you?"
With his hands on his hips, Alex replied, "You know you're a bunch of trouble?"
"I know," Vince replied, flashing a smile.
Opening the closet, it was a miracle nothing fell out.
"Um, you get the pillow this time!"
"You ain't gonna goose me in revenge, are ya?" Vince asked, as he went for the pillow on the second top shelf.
"Nah. I'll be a good boy!"
However, Vince got the best of Alex when he turned to walk down the stairs, Alex slapping him on the butt.
"I thought you were going to be a nice boy?" He joked with Alex.
"Man, are you a complainer!"
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All night Jim had it drilled into him to answer, 'Yes sir'. When Jack checked the time, seeing it going on two in the morning, he asked Jim, "You have enough for the night, boy?"
For once Jim was cheered to respond, "Yes, sir," even though he felt it a little of a let down.
Sensing this, Jack stood behind him, releasing his pent up cock from the codpiece.
"You want to be my boy?"
Gulping, Jim knew he didn't have much time think about it, especially when he felt Jack moving his cock up and down his ass crevice. Not sure if it was the whole scene, the pain Jack delivered so gently, feeling it as pleasure or another idea, the idea of Jack claiming him, went beyond the cock and ass, but delving into the heart and soul as well.
"Well boy? Do I have to get my whip out and explain it to you?"
"No sir... I mean yes sir... I mean... yes sir, take me to be your boy."
Thinking it all over, Jim sighed when Jack began lowering the chains, then lifting the rounded links on the leather cuffs, unleashing him from his bondage.
"But I thought....."
His sudden sadness rose back up when Jack ordered, "Get your belly over that table boy!"
Jim wondered which table Jack meant, til he saw him doing something to the one on the right.
"I don't think you're ready for the stocks yet, boy," Jack said, his hand patting down on the stuffed, black leather table.
It wasn't even on Jim's mind, to be locked up in the stocks, more noticing the bod missing! Even though, he answered, "Yes sir."
"The other end," Jack directed.
Placing his jewels up to the end of the table, Jack dragged his arms straight up to the top, refastening them to two short chains at the other end, lengthwise. With not much freedom, Jim could only move his torso some as he was tautly bound from the waist up.
"So, you want to be my boy?" Jack talked to Jim, another means of making sure Jim wanted it!
"Yes, sir," Jim replied, not sure of exactly what he was getting himself into, but sure enough his inner being wanting it.
"First," he wandered away from the bondage table, "I think we need a little warmup?"
Wondering what was on Jack's mind now, Jim tried his best to rest his chin on his bicep, seeing where Jack was headed. 'Oh shit!' he thought to himself as Jack reached up and tested different varieties of floggers and straps.
"I think this one will work nicely!"
Gulping down the little saliva he had in his dry mouth, Jim wondered how his back would fare, the doubled in half leather strap looking like the belt his father used on him to correct his teenage attitude when he mouthed off at him. However, as Jack halted behind him, he had the feeling it his back would not be the target. "Akkkkkkkkkkkk! Oh shit!" Jim cursed out loud when the strap landed across his buttocks. Right after though, he caught himself moaning as Jack's hand rubbed over the afflicted area.
"Nice, but we've got to get a little warmer, boy!" Jack replied, giggling.
To himself, Jim was thinking, 'I'm glad 'your' having fun!' He should have been thinking about Jack removing his hand, replacing it with another heavy stroke of the strap. "Akkkkkkkkkkk!" Jim cried out, squinting his eyes shut.
"Don't worry boy. You'll get used to it!"
It hurt like fuckin' hell, but as much pain as he felt, Jim also faced another strange sensation. As with the flogging of his back, all he could think of is the pain after the first five lashes. It wasn't until Jack pointed out, taking his finger and removing some of the bleeding cum from his cock, did Jim realize how part of him felt comfortable, on edge, the excitement of the pain. With two lashes of the strap across his ass, Jim was already attuned to how it could feel, especially when with each strike, his cock was forced up against the table, anything touching it, making it feel so very good. Seems he wasn't the only one taking notice.
Placing the strap temporarily under his arm, Jack once again ran his hand over Jim's asscheeks, marveling at the raise in temperature, but his other hand found the temps weren't the only thing rising!
"Yeah. I knew you'd like it boy. You do like it boy, don't you?" Jack asked, seeing it but wanting to hear it from the mouth of his boy.
"Ah," Jim thought briefly.
He took too long to decide, Jack stating as he retrieved the strap from under his arm, "I guess you didn't get enough of a feel of it, eh boy?"
With two down, Jim howled as the next three ripped across his ass.
"I take it you've come to a decision boy?" He inquired, a hand smoothing over Jim's ass.
Over winded, breathing fast and heavy, Jim was quick on the draw this time, not necessarily voicing his own opinion, but out only to please Jack, replying, "Yes sir. Felt good sir," Jim said, hoping it wouldn't encourage Jack.
"Good boy," he was surprised to hear. A pause in the action, Jim took notice of Jack returning the whipping implement to the wall of whips, floggers, straps and other 'fun' stuff.
"Now," he slapped Jim's already burning ass, "shall we get down to business?"
When he felt Jack slip a finger into his asshole, summing up, 'pretty tight', Jim informed him, "My first time."
"Hmm," Jack said to him, a smile on his face, thinking how hot a fuck this was going to be, splitting open a virgin ass.
Sensitive to Jack's reaction, Jim asks, "You're not going to hurt me... um, sir?"
"Have I hurt you yet, boy?"
Having to think on this on, Jim overruled the fact his back still stung. With more deep thought, he cursed to himself, feeling up his pecs, the two nip clamps still attached as he lay on the leather table. He did feel something each time Jack whacked his ass, but the sensation of his clamped pecs rubbing on the table derived more pleasure than pain.
Holding his tongue again, not with purpose, Jim squirmed on the table, voicing his opinion of Jack reaching between his legs and latching onto his balls, "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh," he yelled out when he felt his balls being lightly mashed in his sacs. Arching his back, Jim now became conscious of his chest pressing into the table, the clamps tearing at the nubs of his nips. Jack probably didn't know it was Jack moaning in pleasure over his nips and not the short squeeze to his nuts.
His theory correct, as Jim found out, Jack stated, "So, you like your balls played with afterall?"
Following the protocol, Jim replied, with, "Yes, sir," even though he wasn't sure he wanted to explore anymore ball torture.
"That's my boy!" Jack responded.
Jim couldn't understand how Jack's praise slowly began to work against him, wanting to experience pain in order to please him. As he spent time thinking, Jack worked his hole, first with one finger, then took some of Jim's own cock-lube and inserted to. "Ohhhhhh," Jim responded, again driving those nip clamps against the bondage table, creepy it felt so fuckin' good!
After the tip of his third finger enlarged Jim's ass chute entrance, Jack returned to Jim's fountain of lube and waxed up his own cock. "Yeah, gonna claim this ass as mine, boy. Gonna drive my shaft in fast and hard!"
New to this gay stuff, Jim fooling himself for years he was straight, all he could tell himself is, 'Yikes!' One thing worked for him, the fact he couldn't see Jack's tool, unaware he had stroked it up to it's full ten inch capacity, his full hand massaging it with Jim's grease, Jack's own turnon thinking of taking a virgin chute.
'Oh shit'! Jim thought when he felt Jack's cock tip knocking at his ass door.
"No turnin' back boy, once I get inside," Jack said, meant to provoke any last minute regrets.
Jim thought about it.
"Got a big shaft worked up here, all ready to take your cherry, boy."
Jim bit his lip, but kept is silence.
"All lubed up and ready to roll!"
It was more torturous hearing Jack speak his monologue than anything. It was getting to Jim, more than the nip clamps rubbing on the table, more than the pangs still stinging his back, more than the feel of Jack's hand rubbing his beaten ass. "So will you fuckin' do it!"
He could have taken it as direct insolence, but instead Jack's face lit up in a toothy grin. Taking it as a signal to pursue, divide and conquer, Jack eased his fucking tool in gently, but steady.
"Ohhhhh shit!" Jim gasped, feeling his sphincter being penetrated.
Now, treating Jim like a baby, instead of force, Jack eased his 10c in gently then out. In, then out. In further, then out, but not as much as previously. "Feels good, don't it boy?"
"Um, yeah," he said, more concentrating of the feeling of Jack's tool entering his ass, his widening hole absorbing the size.
"Yeah, what boy?" Jack slipped back into the master-boy ratio.
"Feels," Jim gulped, "good sir."
It's something jack was waiting to hear, but wanted to hear more, saying, "Only good?"
"Um, awesome sir?"
It was enough for Jack to hear, inching his way in deeper. With each fraction of an inch, Jim sighed out loud. Midway in, Jack says, "Thattaboy. Keep bearing down for daddy."
'Bearing down'? Jim questioned himself. Sure enough, he was so fuckin' surprised when he found himself pushing his ass back as if trying to make Jack fill him up even more, encouraging him to do so.
Giving Jim a jolt, Jack did flex his torso, jamming his cock in suddenly.
With response, Jim sighed out loud, as if in pain, but true to himself discovered the pain translating to pleasure. Another discovery, he found himself trying to squirm on the table, wanting his nips to rub even harder against the taut, leather surface, wanting the clamps to tear at his nip-flesh.
Beginning the bdsm-life as a teenager, Jack has devoted his whole adult life to experiencing his favorite pasttime at least every weekend of the year. With the experience in his pocket, he read Jim like a book. Every ounce of breath, each moan or groan gave Jack indication of how and where Jim was deriving his pleasure from. When he heaved forwards, Jack very well knew Jim's bod would be forced upwards toward where his arms stretched out in cuffs and rope bondage, very well aware his nips were rubbing on the table, absorbing the pleasure the clamps pulling at his pecs. A smile on his face, he knew Jim was warming up to having his ass penetrated, his chute busting open to receive his probing wand. After sliding all the way in, Jack informed his boytoy, "Yep. Soon I'll be claiming your ass, boy!"
He didn't need to be given a step by step play of the ass fucking, Jim already knowing Jack had stuffed himself all the way in. First of all, he could feel himself stretched open to the max, the other, Jack's hairy pubes and slapping balls against his ass, speaking for him.
At two o'clock Jim had thought Jack was calling it a night, however forty-five minutes later the two were still going at it. It wasn't about to last, Jack speeding up the action, moving in and out of Jim's ass canal like there was no tomorrow, still at it, his words bellowing out about taking Jim to be his boy.
Later Jim would wonder why it took him so long to open up his ass to his first fuck-over. Even though his nips remained clamped from about the time he began his session with Jack, until he came, Jim wouldn't raise a complaint to how good they felt. He did have mixed reaction though as when Jack came, pounding his ass hard, his bod jumping forwards on the table.
As Jack neared blastoff time, he reached around Jim and went at his boy's cock, stroking him as fast as he was fucking him. With precision, Jack knew he would come first, Jim right after. When finished with his ejaculation, he still stroked Jim up, leaning his sweaty chest almost against Jim's back. Ready go give Jim a last go at the painful side of pleasurable sex, he slid his hand underneath Jim's bod, his hand feeling the silver chain. Both sweated like hogs, Jim now taking up the brunt of the moaning and groaning, yelling out, "Yeah, make me cum... make me fuckin' cum sir!"
Jack made him fuckin' cum alright. At the same moment Jim reached his sexual high, his balls unloading, Jack gave the chain a hefty pull.
It became tough to decipher which overpowered the other, Jim's mental state making it a landslide towards his cock reaching it's maximum stroking potential, feeling his cum shoot up right through his tube and out, feeling not one or two shots, but several, soon forgetting he ever had clamps applied to his nips.
Both breathing heavy, sweating, neither spoke, rather waiting out the time when their breathing would level out.
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"You don't look comfortable Vince," Alex said, looking down at the thirty-four year old, six foot-four nurse, trying to fit himself into the standard sleeping bag, on the floor.
"Oh but I am," Vince replied with his die-hard atttitude, forcing a smile on his face.
The offering, Alex tells him, "You know Jarrett could stay here with Jason and you could...."
As if a little kid being the go ahead to raid the candy store, Jarrett says, "Really? I really can sleep here with Jason?"
Considering himself would most likely not get any sleep, even after punching a place for his head in the pillow, Vince fessed up, "I suppose your right. I...."
But he was strewn off course, again by Jarrett's childlike excitement.
"Want to slow down there, Jarrett?" Alex said.
Vince had to laugh though as Jarrett picked up the foot end of the sleeping bag and dumping him onto the rug, saying, "Come on out of there, Vince!"
"Nothing like being forced out of hibernation!"
At first, Alex thought about putting Vince up in the guest room, but then remembering Kyle still asleep in there. The other bed Scott claimed when he started living here.
"So. Where do you want me?"
"Um, the pillow?" Jarrett said to Vince, trying to pull it out from between Vince's arm and torso.
"Oh no you don't, you little thief! You go find your own!" Vince replied.
However, Alex had it all figured out, telling him, "There's a pillow up in the loft. I'm taking the guest room with Kyle and Scott."
Then, as bad as Jarrett, Vince pouts, "How come I can't have the room with Kyle and Scott?"
"Because it would make you a bad little boy, that's why!" Alex came back at him.
"I'll be good. Brownie's honor," He holds up two fingers.
"Somehow I believe you were once a Brownie, you know that Vince? But it's the loft or the front stoop!"
"I'll take the loft," he hastily decided, dropping the pillow right on Jarrett's face as he already snuggled up in the sleeping bag.
Alex led him to the staircase informing him there was a private jon up there, but forbid him to use the toothbrushes.
"No problem," Vince replied to Alex. "I happen to have one with me!"
Alex shook his head back and forth when Vince turned his index finger into a 'toothbrush'! "Good night, Vince!"
Starting up the stairs, Vince snapped his fingers and turned to ask Alex.
"What?" Alex replied, not annoyed, just pretending.
"Um, who's Kyle?"
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"I think I'll wait til we get home to shower. C'mon, let's change," Jack said as they entered the lockerrooms from the west side of the underground dungeon complex.
"Uh oh."
"What?" Jack asked Jim as they stood at a locker, Jack dialing up his combination.
"We got a problem. Bill has my clothes in his car!"
To Jim's dilemma, Jack smiled, thinking up a hell of an idea.
"Um, did you hear me? Like, I don't have any clothes to put on to go home in?"
After ditching his leather gear, stuffing it into his gymbag, Jack still carried a smile on his face as he stepped into his CK's. "So, it's not like anybody's going to be looking at you from the house to the car?"
"That may be so, Jack... I mean sir..."
"Play time's over. It's 'Jack'."
"What about when you drop me off at my apartment? Somebody's bound to be awake even at this hour of the morning?"
"Looks like I've solved your problem there, cub. Because we ain't going to your place!"
"What do you mean, Jack? I... I.. I gotta feed my goldfish!"
"Listen up Jim," Jack got serious, tugging on the laces of his boots, looking up into Jim's attentive face, "maybe you didn't get it, but when I claimed your ass, it meant I own it and more."
"What?" Jim replied, his mouth gaping open. "I thought it was just a bunch of fantasy play?"
"Yeah, right," Jack then changed his tune. "I was just seein' if you were game."
Standing there for the longest time, Jim watched Jack stuff his tee shirt into his pants and replace his leather vest over his chest. He tossed Jack's words over and over in his mind, trying to formulate some type of conclusion. "I don't get it."
"C'mon. Let's hit the road."
All the way back to Jack's place, after exiting the city, heading up to Westchester, he never mentioned two words regarding Jim lack of understanding.
More than grateful, Jim still had his hand over his cock and balls as they pulled into Jack's neighborhood, turned up a driveway which took several minutes to travail before seeing a white farmhouse, the kind you see in the movies, to the right a barn completing the setting.
"You live on a farm?"
"Stables. I raise horses in my spare time."
"Awesome," Jim replied. Falling into a stupor, he heard Jack's door slam shut.
"Heeeey! What about me?" Jim yelled out of the cracked open door.
"Nobody around except you, me and the horses and believe me, they've seen what a man looks like!"
Slowly, Jim made his way out of the 4x4 with caution, hoping no one was around, even though it was pitch black except for the lone light above the barn door, he felt kind of ashamed about streaking from the drive to the house.
"You coming?"
"I'm coming," Jack responded, trying to tred lightly on the graveled pavement. Nearing the front porch, Jim comments, "Why don't you get the driveway paved?"
"Because I like to watch you suffer!"
Jim responded, "I noticed. So what else is new?"
At four thirty in the morning, the two walked into the kitchen, Jack switching on the light. "Whew! It's so fuckin' hot in here!"
Even though it had been the lockerroom at Sonnemaker's estate, now the change of scenery, the ordinary house, the sight of Jack stripping off his vest and shirt made him tingle all over.
"How about some eggs? Unless you're tired?"
"Not really," Jim replied, even though he should have been after being trussed up eagle-spread for nearly five hours, then brutually 'raped' afterwards. "I'll have them sunnyside up."
"Know how to crack open an egg?" Jack responded, placing the dozen eggs in front of Jim, on the butcherblock island dividing them.
"What? Food on here with your sweaty tee shirt?"
Swiping his tee shirt and vest off of the countertop, Jack replies, "There. Happy?"
"No," Jim replied, seeing an opening for his previous question. "I'd be much more happy if you would explain to me what you meant by owning my ass, 'and more'?"
"I was just shooting my mouth off, okay?"
"No, it's not okay and you weren't shooting your mouth off.. you were damn well serious, Jack!"
Standing there, a hands on his torso, thumbs tucked in, Jack now wondered who the 'master' was. As if it would make him decide, he jabbed the inside of his cheek with his tongue, a gesture he was told, he did when he was nervous.
"Will you just forget about it and crack those eggs?" Jack brushed it off, as he began pouring some milk in a bowl. Shocked, he yelled, "What tha fuck?"
Stealing the quart container out of his hand, the milk sloshed all over Jack's stomach, it drizzling down over his hairy navel, down the front of his jeans. Jim then demanded, "I will 'not' forget about it. Now you just stand there and tell me and if I'm satisfied I'll think about giving you the milk back!"
"What about the fucking milk?" Jack said, looking towards his frontal region.
Coining Jack's phrase, Jim asks, "Whatsamatter? Don't know how to use a towel, Jack?"
He meant to unravel one paper towel, but said, "Whooooooa!" when the dispenser shed about twenty.
"You know you're a real klutz?" Jim joked, letting some humor slip inbetween his seriousness.
"Lucky for you I was in good form tonight in the dungeon," Jack replied, hand-rolling the paper towels back onto the roll.
"Oh really? I thought maybe it was an accident on your part when you ripped the clamps off my nips when I came?"
Turning the tables, gaining back some of his tough turf, Jack responded, "Oh really? The way you were carrying it on it would make one seem you fuckin' enjoyed it!"
Letting the carton of milk slide down, Jim rubbed his hand over his lightly haired pecs. His lips gave indication of liking it somewhat.
"I've got some really nasty ones upstairs if you're interested?"
Interrupting them both, Jim yells out, "Oh shit!" when the milk carton falls out of his hand, onto the floor, making a worse mess than it did of Jack's abs.
Leaning over the butcher block island, Jack's chest and stomach rested on it, his crotch butt up against the side. He looked over, the direction Jim looked as well.
"Now," Jim casually says, "if you were 'my' boy I'd have you down on your hands and knees licking it up!"
Taking it in, Jim decides to use it as a ploy to get an answer out of Jack, since his interrogation was getting them both nowhere. "I figured that's what you meant when you said you wanted to own more than my ass."
"Oh, so you think so?"
"Don't try to patronize me Jack. You were dead serious about 'claiming my ass', thinking I'd fall for it, wanting to come home with you and shack up with you, me catering to your every whim, you fucking me every night, doing stuff to me whenever your cock and balls drove you to do it. Don't stand there and tell me it all isn't true?"
A look of all seriousness on his face, Jack reclined across the counter, staring at Jim. Finally he voiced his opinion, standing up on his feet, directing to Jim, "Yeah, I think you got most of it right, except the part about 'doing stuff to you whenever my cock and balls drive me to it' or something like that?"
By now, Jack had journeyed around the side of table, resting with his arms folded over his sticky stomach.
"Get off it Jack. Your cock and balls were churning away when you were torturing me. You loved it!"
"Oh really?" Jack answered, keyed in to more than his own sexual excitement over seeing Jim suffer. "Yeah, I got to admit it, it was so fuckin' awesome flogging your back and fuck! When I snapped those clamps on your nips, it really shocked my balls into doing some heavyduty churning. I thought I would come right then and there seeing your face wrinkle up in pain. But then I got to thinking how I wasn't the 'only one' getting high?"
"You're crazy Jack. It hurt like hell when you slapped those clamps on my pecs. And furthermore, it didn't exactly tickle when you filleted my back!"
"I didn't even hit you hard. Dammit, Estevez there can take a horsewhip and almost shoot his load!"
"Estevez?" Jim questioned.
"The 'no limits' dude? The one Bill took from the stocks?"
"Yeah right and probably Estevez has been taking your abuse for the last ten years!"
"Three actually. When I found him on the streets he was a derelict with no purpose in life but to run with the gang, rob little old ladies and try seeing how many DVD's he can rip off at Target."
"Wait. How do you know all this?" Jim asked.
Bending down, Jack went to work mopping up the spilled milk.
"I can get that," Jim offered, squatting down as well. It didn't go unnoticed, Jack once again checking him out between the legs, especially when Jack had the advantage, as opposed to his jeans covering up Jim's view.
"You haven't consented to being my boy yet, so I'll get it."
"There were still so many questions in Jim's mind. Now that Jack had mentioned Estevez, a tidbit of the guy's personal information, it too stirred up his inquiring mind.
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Copyright 2008 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.