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 71 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"Open your mouth, boy!"
Vince kept it closed. He felt a hand, the hand of the viking', on his balls. It started out as a light squeeze and as the smile on the viking's lips widened, the pressure on his balls grew. Upon screaming out in pain, the ball was stuffed in his mouth. Then there wasn't any pain, except for a few stings in his crotch. More prevalent was the feeling of this viking' hovering over him. Under any other terms than being restrained to the table he might have traded places, a want to plug the `viking's' hole.
The unknown factor, to his captors, was forseen as something else, "What'd I tell you Hans? He's getting off on the bdsm already?"
"I see," Hans replied, his hand grazing over Vince's bod. "It's going to be a sin to mess up this beautiful rug!"
It's then Vince didn't take so lightly his thoughts. Instead of a sexual encounter with the blonde viking his thoughts now consulted his own welfare.
"Yup. Nice furry bear you got here Simon."
Simon' was it?' Vince thought of the beard', now with a name. Same time, he was confused about the wink, the one Hans gave him. Was it a nervous twitch or was it an act of communication? In security training school they taught one to interpet signs or body language. Vince dismissed it as a nervous twitch. Then his attention was shockingly drawn to Hans, his hand picking up the croc clips, meant to terrorize his emotion, supposedly before being used to make him scream for the cameras.
"So," Simon asks, "your resume says you're an expert at ball torture. Shall we zero in on Vince's balls?"
Hmm,' Vince thought. He thought on one hand, why the fuck did they shave around his nips', but on the other hand was happy as a pig in poop, relieved they were skipping over attaching those nasty-edged metal clips to his nips, something he dreadfully wasn't looking forwards to.
"No," Hans replies, "I think maybe I'll warm him up with a body massage."
"But this will be billed as a nip torture, cock'n'ball torture video and you haven't done any of those things yet?"
Turning on Simon, Hans seemed to tower over him. "Are you questioning my performance? You've got my abilities in writing. Question?"
For a moment there Vince was ready to applaude with hurrahs, Hans telling the bearded bear off, even though his balls were in hanging in the balance.
"Um, no. Sure," Simon shook with fear of mixed emotional stress. "Whatever you say Hans."
Again, Vince sided with the viking, his admiration for standing up to Simon. But then again, feared for the worst when Hans turned his attention to Vince.
While Hans went to work on Vince, running his hands up and down his pecs like he was a private masseur, Simon-the-bearded raved and ranted on, "After all, I trust what Mikey says," Mikey, Simon's contact, "He says you're the best in the business."
Right now Vince wasn't caring what Simon was saying, taking in Hans' ministrations, losing some of the fear originally gripping his mental focus, the physical now overtaking him as hands traveled over his pecs, thumbs making contact with his nips and moving in a rotated fashion.
"Um, excuse me a moment there Hans, but what is it you are doing?"
Stopped at working Vince's bod, Hans turns on Simon, saying, "Why don't you just crawl back to your cage and let me do what I'm getting paid for?"
Simon backed down.
Hans went back to his handiwork.
Vince began moaning once again behind the ball-gag protruding from his lips. His thoughts were mixed, the strange way in which Hans gazed down at him. Maybe he was hallucinating, after all the two big hands running over his pecs, over his abs, messing with his pubic bush and tantallizing his cock and balls, he didn't get it. If he didn't have this damn ball gag in his mouth he might've complained, telling him to get the fuck on with it!
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"So, can I count you, Swif?"
"For?" Swifty asks with vague intentions.
Geoff replies, "On breaking up the boredom of next weekend's party at the Karlyle estate?"
Like two bears in the woods, lying there in bed as if on a pile of leaves, Swifty gently pawed over Geoff's massive, hairy chest. "I guess I can clear my busy weekend and pencil you in."
"Oh really? Well maybe I got a better idea."
Swifty watched as Geoff got up from the bed, watched his hairy-creviced butt sashay across the room. Heard the draw open and close, but wasn't able to see what Geoff had in his hand. "What are you up to Geoffrey?"
Before Swifty could react, Geoff was on him, sitting on his stomach, Swifty's arms pinned to his side. "Doing something so you don't forget?"
"Nooooooooooooooooooooooooo! You wouldn't!" Swifty complained, his mouth wide open.
"Tsk, tsk," Geoff said as he uncapped the permanent marking pen, "if I wasn't out of semen I'd plug that mouth real quick!"
But it wasn't Geoff's massive bear-cock which worried Swifty. "That's not gonna come out!"
"Yeah I know," Geoff giggled. "You'll be wearing it til our fiftieth wedding anniversary!"
Suddenly the marker was erased from Swifty's mind, "Wedding anniversary? What the hell you talking about Geoff?" Not that Swifty didn't mind reading into Geoff's words. He was crazy about him!
Going on something like almost twelve hours of sexual stimulation, Geoff repairs his thoughts, recapping the marker and tossing it over his shoulder, "What I'm talking about is this!"
They hadn't showered yet, the two being pretty ripe. Still, it didn't stop the thirty-eight year old from making love to Swifty. In between working over his hairy navel with his tongue, Geoff halted his deep navel-tonguing to ask, "That is if you don't mind putting up with a guy twice your age?"
"You're `not' twice my age. I'm like thirteen years younger?"
"I know," Geoff stopped his tongue action. But dropping the subject he let on, "I could go for your ripe navel forever!"
"My navel? Is that `all' that interests you?"
Swifty paid the price, Geoff making his nips redder as he manouvered his bod, using Swifty's pecs as handles to bring their lips into mutual contact.
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Picking up the croc clips, Vince knew he was doomed. Soon they would be biting at his nips and it's one emotion he wouldn't be able to hold back on, `intense pain'. But instead of a harsh, evil look it happened again. Hans gave him a gleaming, bright smile.
Along with the lighter side of the tormentors evil part, he heard softly said, "The calvary's on it's way!"
He couldn't speak, the ball gag keeping him from voicing his opinion, but his cocked head with the look of question, communicated to Hans his bewilderment over why he was speaking in riddles.
"10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3.. 2.. 1! Bingo!" Hans said.
And right to last second, the `-go', all hell broke loose. A well thought out plan, Hans went right into action, unbuckling the straps which held Vince's upper bod pinned to the bondage table.
"I saw him first, so don't get any ideas, Jorgen!"
"In your dreams, Justin!"
If he was confused before, now he was utterly out of sync with what was going down, Vince still unable to speak as whom he knew as David', uncoupling his ankles from the bottom of the table, the one called Hans', almost finished with his arms and in all of the confusion, two guys, this young hottie and an older dude, fighting over him!
Whooooooa!' Vince thought to himself, his adrenaline starting to peak when he heard gunshots. Before his mouth was opened, the ball gag popped out, his bod was hurled off the side of the table. More scared shit than anything else, he sat there on the floor, the table shielding them from danger, Hans', now revealed as Jorgen and `David', rather Justin, sitting on either side of him, their backs plastered to the wooden retaining structure. He jumped, his shoulders crunching up towards his ears when he heard more shooting. With a hand on each shoulder, Justin's left hand on his right bicep, his hand on his chest, Jorgen's left hand on his left arm, the other fidgeting with the clasp behind his head, froze in place. Is the floor was made of rope he would have been holding on, his hands pressed against it.
"Whew! That was a close one!" Justin said. Then to Vince, "You okay Vince?"
"Does he look okay, dah," Jorgen said to Justin.
"Let me guess," Vince started in after taking a deep breath, "you two know each other... work for the same outfit... FBI? CIA?" He didn't let either guy get the advantage, "You're the good guys, right?"
"Wow!" Jorgen says, proceeding in his Danish accent, "I not only get a cute one but a smart one too!"
"Get off it Jorgen. You had your chance and blew it!"
"Oh and how does that go, Justin?" Jorgen argues.
Vince sat there and let it play out. He was interested in knowing too, even though he had been through a strange, grueling ordeal. One thing played in the balance here though, he was flanked by two hot guys! Still commotion riled the silence of the room, shouts and sounds of handcuffs being applied, but for Vince he remained the object of desire, being fought over by what appeared to be a guy in his early twenties, one of latter twenties. And here he sat, the elder of the trio of `players', the object of desire.
His head swung back and forth, taking in Justin's current words, "You fuckin' hurt Vince's nips. Look at them!"
Vince as well as the other two looked down at Vince's chest.
Then planing his hand over Vince's chest fur, Jorgen argues with Justin, "And look what `you' did! Your razor messed up the hottest looking chest in the universe!"
He probably should have been pissed at the both of them, but being they were probably the hottest looking guys in the universe, Vince wasn't holding any grudges. "I got an idea!"
Suddenly a truce commenced, Jorgen and Justin holding their thoughts to themselves, waiting for the `almighty Vince' to speak. "Why don't the three of us get all cozied up someplace and work out our differences?"
"Nobody's going anywhere til I make up a report!"
"Oh no!" Vince said in surprise, looking up at one of the thugs who was responsible for working his gut over. "Not `you' too?"
Extending a hand, the bulky thug, turned good guy, reached out a hand, "Sorry for having to work you over."
"You both should be," Justin replied.
"Shut your trap Justin," the guy said as he hauled Vince to his feet. "Nobody asked your opinion."
As Vince stood he says, "Well I've got an opinion for you buster!"
Vince couldn't help but laugh too, Justin and Jorgen laughing their asses off at the `tough guy' holding his gut, doubled over, about ready to cave in on his knees.
"Good work," Vince heard the Danish-accented voice congratulating him.
"And as for you!" Vince turned on Jorgen.
Weaving his hands between the leather straps of the harness covering Jorgen's pecs, Vince manhandled his nips! "Oh! Oh! Ow! Ow!" rang out after Vince mashed them over and over.
On the other hand, Justin backed off. "No. Don't come any closer," he warned, his hands up to fend Vince off.
But when Vince edged on he said, "I wouldn't hurt a hair on your sweet head!"
"What?" Justin asked with skepticism. He dropped his guard.
"Like I said," and to prove it, Vince closed in on him with open arms.
Jorgen stood there, half-interested in how Vince was coming on to Justin. Like Vince had done, Jorgen slid his flat palms in between the leather straps, massaged his sore, red nips. He uttered in soft tones of pleasure, "Ohhhhhh... ahhhh.... feels good..."
Vince stops kissing Justin long enough to reply, "I know what could feel better?"
"What's that?" Jorgen asks as his hands freeze in place over his pec-meat.
"Why don't you follow Justin and me home. You still owe me and I'm feeling like I need a hot blow job!"
In no time, Jorgen is pacing the floor behind the two, keeping up. Dealing out the orders, Justin tells Jorgen to fetch his clothes for Vince to put on.
Totally opposite the character he played, the rough-tough Viking, Jorgen yields to Justin's words, but complaining, "What am I gonna wear?"
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"Don't we have a party to go to this weekend, Alex?"
"Um," he searches his brain for recollection, "yeah matter of factly. At that fashion dude's mansion, whats-is-name?"
"Cayman Karlyle."
"That's it! But....."
"But what?" Kyle questions Alex.
"We've got to like pack up this place and...."
"It's furnished, remember? All we really need to take are our clothes, right?"
Breaking in, Scotty comes up with brilliant response, "I wouldn't give your brother the satisfaction of leaving all this good cookware behind?"
Two seconds later, Kyle and Alex are out the front door, headed down to Guerra's market for some boxes.
Staying behind, Michael says to Scotty as he places on the kitchen island `everything' in the kitchen, "This is going to be cool."
"What is?" Scotty stops to asks, then begins working again.
"You and me. I mean it won't be `our' place but it will be like starting out fresh, but this time instead of some stupid stuff happening to me I've got you."
"Like Alex says," Scotty tells him, "Your luck has changed. Your life is going to be different from here on in. You do believe that don't you Michael?"
It led to a tender moment, Scotty pinning Michael to the countertop.
"Well, well, well. Isn't this sweet?"
"Who are you?" Scotty asks, allowing Michael to fall to edge and stand.
"Me? Who are you? As for me, I own this place and I want `you' the fuck outta here!"
Neither knew what was on Knapp's mind. Either Scotty thought he was coming after Michael or Michael thought Knapp had his anger bent on picking a fight with Scotty, but Michael is the one who reacted. Picking up the meat tenderizer, he tenderized Knapp's `meat'!
"Oh fuckin' shit!" Knapp called out as he caved in, his hands holding all of what he was worth, between the legs.
"I think you busted his nuts," Scotty said.
Michael didn't feel a bit of remorse. "He was coming after us. What was I supposed to do?"
"Somebody busting nuts?" Alex asked, the two of them walking in with three or four boxes apiece.
"Knapp?" Kyle says, watching him face down on the floor, moaning, his two hands planted between his legs.
"Your fuckin' ass friend just pulverized my balls!"
Kyle informs the trio, "Trust me, he's got big balls too!"
Recovering, Knapp was a sweaty mess, still sensitive down below. "I thought I told you," he started at Kyle.
"We still have two more days, but I think you can count on us out of here by tonight."
Fortunately, while over at Guerra's market, Kyle and Alex ran across Carlos. Seems Carlos had accidentally walked in on a recording sesson at Manhattan School of Music, got yelled at, the guy finding him later in the cafeteria, buying him lunch and wound up making up by inviting Carlos over to his apartment.
"So," Kyle concluded his story to Michael and Scotty, "Carlos says the place had hardly any furniture, so we're donating ours to him and Francesco. They said they'd be glad to have it."
"So you'll be out by tonight, is it?" Knapp butt in.
Stepping up to him Alex states, "Yeah, but the way I see it, since this place is legally still Kyle's, you're tresspassing. You might think about hightailing it out of here before Kyle calls the cops and reports an intruder!"
"I'll be back!" Knapp said nastily.
Kyle said to the others, "Good thing we won't be here!"
So, Kyle and Alex were curious of how Knapp, much taller than both Scotty and Michael, was subdued. They laughed their asses off when Michael told of taming Knapp with the meat tenderizer, using it for a nutcracker!
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"Ohhhhhhhh that feels nice!" And then after a short pause, Geoff compliments, "Ohhhhh that feels so nice!"
Swifty just grunted and moaned as he worked his hefty tool in and out of Geoff's ass.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh that feels so fuckin' nice!" Geoff reiterates the intense pleasure at having his ass reamed. Then, as Swifty pressed Geoff's legs further over head, "Ohhhhhh that feels so fuckin' nice!"
Words went on deaf ears as far as Swifty was concerned, his knees moving up the bed so as to fit more of himself inside of Geoff.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Geoff again sighs. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhh man!" he again groans as Swifty reaches around and grabs Geoff leaking cock. Geoff would have done it to himself, but his hands were too busy keeping his nips hard, tweaking them which only served to heighten his own pleasures and desires. As if wires ran from his cock and balls, grounded to his nips, he sighed and moaned to his heart's content. He opened his squinting eyes when he felt a hand on his left hand, Swifty stealing it away to place around his own barrel. Conversation was nonexistent, yet Geoff knew this to be a signal; Swifty was getting `near'. True to his thoughts, Swifty picked up the pace. Jamming Geoff's head into the pillow, he felt like his spine was ready to snap under the pressure of his bod bound in half by Swifty leaning his shoulders against his calves.
"Oh yeah! Oh yeah! Oh fuckin' yeah!" Swifty shouted out as he pounded against Geoff's ass three times, each time hesitating to allow his jizz to escape, shooting deep into Geoff's guts.
"That's it?" Geoff said, which was premature.
Without speaking, Swifty answered his question, pulling out and grunting, "Unh! Unh! Unnnnnh! Unh!" as he emptied the remainder of his balls. Then, as if passing out, he divided Geoff's legs and fell flat out on his bod.
Trapping Geoff's hand between them, he complained, "Um.... like I still need to cum?"
Doing a slight pushup, his hand pressing on Geoff's pec, Swifty looks between them. "I was wondering what was poking me in the gut!"
"Yeah well, you don't think you're the only one who's got a gallon of creme to shoot?"
Their all night, all morning suck'n'fuck fest was coming to a close. As both found out, they were neither classified as total top or total bottom, but rather enjoyed switching roles whenever they had the urge. Last night it started out where Geoff plugged Swifty's ass with his cork and then sucked him off. Now in reverse, Swifty slid down Geoff's bod, both lubricated with intense sweat. As if rehearsed, he dived onto Geoff's cock, pursing his lips and relieving the pent up flow of emotions and sexual need.
Then, for another half hour the two lay there, spent, their sexual appetites satiated, lying there in each other's arms not saying a word.
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Copyright 2009 T. Chase McPhee
This story 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.....