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.
THe HaRDee BoYs 09 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"I'm probably making 'thee' biggest mistake of my life," Deputy Mark says, lowering the chain which connects the couplings holding Ricky's arms in place above his head.
"Oh! Oh! Oh! Slowly there," Ricky calls out as his arms slowly descend. Too, his standing almost on toes, made him wobble as his bod weight became stable. "Oh man!" Ricky says of his arms reclining after being stuck in the 'up' position for his milking experience.
"I'll do that!" Mark says, after Ricky begins figiting with the leather cuffs.
"No!" Ricky barks out, "I'll do this. You unfasten my ankles!"
Mark stood there in contemplation. Up until a score of minutes ago, it was him dishing out the orders. On his mind was 'who ruled who?' Unlike ever before in his life, this mere 'college boy' was making his innards tingle, a force within making him cave in towards the college dude's calling.
"What? If I wanted to, I could have smashed you in the gut?"
'True', Mark thought to himself. With both of Ricky's arms free of the chains, it could have been of little effort for him to take a swing at him. As he bent down to loosen Ricky's right leg he says, "No funny stuff now. If Art ever caught me...."
"If I ever caught you what, Mark?" It was Art, looking like he just woke up, his pants on, shirtless, his wifebeater straps hanging down.
Both Mark, looking up, Rick looking down, the two stare at each other as a result of the sound of Art's voice and the clicking of his rifle. Suddenly Mark began sweating, with a loaded barrel of a rifle pointed to his head! Like he's seen crooks do, when he's approached them, Mark lifts his hands in the air when he sees Art is not putting the rifle down.
"Hey, remember, I'm a cop, Art?"
"Strange thing, out of uniform you look like an ordinary man!" There would be no difference though, cop or citizen, either manner of man would not be impervious to a foot to the crotch.
Ricky was of no help, with his one ankle still attached to a post, the other one slightly loose. He tried reaching out to grab Art as he lifted the rifle out of the way to kick Mark in the stomach. He even reached down to try to undo an ankle, but he saw the logic in Mark doing it, almost falling flat on his face. Equally disturbing, he thought if Mark was down and trussed up in the same bondage predicament as himself, there would be no mercy in escape for either of them.
Too, Ricky feared the outcome when Mark, cuddled up in a womb position, apparently his abs and balls aching like hell, was addressed by Art in a frivolous manner, "I didn't tell you what was going to become of the boys. Well now, since I'm including you in the bounty, you can say goodbye to the good life forever!" Laughing his ass off, Art's boot caught Mark right between the legs, as Mark was trying to crawl away. It put Mark flat on his stomach.
He didn't know what Mark was thinking, as Art quickly cuffed his hands behind his back, on the other side of a pole, but Ricky at this point didn't care if he corrupted his quads to get out of his bondage fix.
"And what the fuck do you think you're doing?"
'Uh-oh', Rick thought, reaching to unbuckle his left ankle. At a time like this he shouldn't be joking, but says, "Um, like I was just checking to make sure Mark didn't loosen this too much?"
"Mark, is it? So, while I was sawing wood, you two were getting to know each other. Is that how it goes?"
Buying time, Ricky replies, "Oh no. That's not it at all. I hate Mark. I hate what he did to me." And with a lack of acting skills, "I want to really punch his lights out for bruising my stomach and making me cum so many times. My balls are like really hurting."
Approaching Rick, to refasten his cuffs, he places the little hooks embedded in the side of the leather over a hook, one at a time.
Other than pounding a guy's ass to hell, Ricky has never assumed a violent role, but right now he figures, it's not only himself, but Mark's life on the line. So, with his last chance of turning this situation around, he brings his free hand back and 'POW'! He socks Art right in the balls, which was not a tough choice, since Art was reaching up to snag the hook.
When Art bent over from the unexpected blow, he pulled Ricky's arm down with him.
Totally loosing balance, Ricky caved in, right on top of Art. "Oh shit!" he cried out, expecting his ankles to crack right off his feet. They didn't as Ricky's bod fell, covering most of Art right up?
Bad enough, Art's stoopid mistake, opening his mid section to Ricky, to reach for the hook, instead of lowering it, Art had more to complain about, other than a pair of aching balls as his back hit the floor, littered with the broken cum jar from the milking machine.
Not a malevolent person, except for when his nads drove him deep inside a guy's ass crevice, Ricky reveled in the joy, "Oh great!", his chub bod, using it as a weapon, moving about on top of Art to cause the glass splinters to dig into his skin. He couldn't do much more, with his legs still bound in an outstretched position.
Too, from around the other side of the milking machine, he hears Marks voice, "Yeah! Get that fucker Ricky!"
So, like the deputy commanded, "Rick 'got that fucker'!"
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Finally, Jason got in contact with Jared, Jared at the breakfast table with Dobie, replying to his first bit of news, "Sikandar? Who's Sikandar and where is this house you're at?" He said it as if a father checking up on a son. Placing the cell phone for a minute against his thigh, he says to Dobie, "Jason sacked out at some soccer dude's house last night." Then, picking up the phone, he asks, "What?"
At the mention of 'Sikandar', a light went off in Dobie's head. The clue, 'soccer-dude' didn't need to be there, him knowing Sikandar an uncommon name, but accepted 'soccer' in picturing the only soccer-dude on the swim team, whose name corresponded to the one named. "I know that guy," he says.
Right into the phone Jared says, "Hey! Small world! Dobie knows your friend!"
It was then Jared being put on the stand, being interrogated by his brother. And after a few minutes, Jared says, "No, I haven't heard from Rick, but he probably spent the night making his rounds of the dorm." And ten seconds later Jared ended the call and immediately he was on Dobie, "So what do you know of this Sikandar-dude?"
Smiling, Dobie replies, "Let's see... where shall I start? Tall, dark, handsome, awesome physique, GPA of 6.0, um not to mention what he carried between his thighs?"
His jaw dropping open, Jared exclaims, "He's a genius!" Of course Jared wasn't oblivious to Dobie's last point.
"On top of everything, Jare, he's a really, really nice guy. Your brother lucked out."
Across the long, long, long, long table flanking out to the sides of them, which the two had to themselves, Jared watches as Dobie is cutting up a banana to put in his cereal, he says, "I don't think he's the only one!" As he lifts a spoonful of Cap'n Crunch to his mouth, his eyes are still on Dobie. Crunching, he still holds the grin on his face.
Dobie replies, "You know, you're a slob, Jare?"
The back of his hand wiping his mouth, Jared replies, "Yeah, I know!" The grin stays.
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"Like, oh-my-God! I think I've murdered him!" Ricky says of Art lying there on the floor under him, motionless.
Thrashing about, trying to free himself from Ricky's dead weight, Art had hit his head on the milking machine, making himself in a comatose state.
"Will you just think about getting us out of here, Ricky?" Mark yells across the room.
"Get us out of here? You're the one who got us into this mess, Deputy!" But more dire, Ricky says, "I can't move. My legs are like pinning me down."
"Shoot the chain."
"Shoot the chain? Like I've never used a gun before!" Ricky exclamed.
With his wrists cuffed behind the pole, Mark was able to walk himself up to a standing position. Over the height of the milking machine he says in a more calm manner, "Take aim at the chain near your foot and shoot at the link."
"Are you fuckin' out of your mind? I might hit my foot!"
"Just fuckin' be a man and do it, Ricky?"
"Okay," Ricky started squirming about to retrieve the rifle, "but you owe me!"
Sure, their captivity was important to break out of, but as Mark saw Ricky go to work, his mind altered to the state of thinking up how hot it could be, a slave to Ricky's whims, especially beholden to him for getting them out of this fix he got them into.
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"My brother will want to meet you right away," Jason says to Sikandar, as the two dress.
Throwing a pair of briefs to Jason, he says, "Really? Here! See if these fit!"
"CK's. Pretty nice. I bet you didn't shop Target for these!" Jason jokes, placing a French inflection over the 'get'.
"Does your brother have some fixation over you, like he is your custodian?" Sikandar asks.
"Nah. He just wants to make sure I get settled in and don't mess with the wrong crowd," Jason says, feeling the lowrise briefs, the place where his thumbs skim along his pubes. "Wow! These are 'really' nice!"
"If you are too hairy there, there is an electric shaver in the cabinet?"
He 'saw' Sikandar point blank last night, but wasn't checking on the length of the hair on his pubes. "Do you like, 'shave', down there?"
"I trim and whether you noticed or not, I 'do' shave my balls?"
Smiling, Jason replies, "Um, like I was almost laying on them. Do you think I didn't notice?"
They exchanged smiles, both remembering, Sikandar feeling good while Jason handled his nads. Memories not blocked out forever, the two come together with smiling faces. Entwining hands, arms, bods touching, their lips meet.
Parting, Jason asks, "What time was soccer practice again?" Reason for asking, his CK's were tenting!
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In a manner usually stated, whenever Jared saw Rick's phone number pop up on his cell, he addresses the welcoming in call, "Get enough ass last night?" Rather than the usual return, Jared exclaims, "You almost killed a guy? What do you mean you almost killed a guy?"
Dobie asks Jared while he's on the phone, "That your friend, who can't get enough?"
Raising his head up and down in agreement, Jared was listening to a run through of Rick's nightmarish evening, with a lot of it not making sense, especially the part about the milking machine. To Rick's request, Jared says, "We'll be right over!"
"What's up?" Dobie asks as Jared pops out of his chair.
"Rick. He hooked up with some dude on the gay chat room, only the dude led him into a trap." Cutting the details short, "He asked for me to give him a lift home... oh, but I don't have the car."
His eyes pleading, Dobie answers, "We'll take mine."
"Um, my clothes still upstairs where I left them?"
Being decked out in their briefs, the two hightailed it upstairs, Dobie's uncle was on his way down and their bods scraped.
"Morning Uncle Sylv," Dobie said nicely.
When passing by Jared, Sylv made sure they more than touched, leaning away from the wall his back faced as he turned sideways. Only difference than Jared almost in the buff, Sylv was dressed for work.
And since Sylv instigated the action, Jared got even, "Yeah, morning Uncle Sylvester!"
Putting on a fake disposition of anger, Sylv wags a finger and warns, "You're pushing your luck boy!"
In Dobie's room, Jared says, "He was joking right?" It's how he sensed it.
"Oh course, but you never know... you might like the type of fun Uncle Sylv enjoys alone with a guy."
"Bet he dishes out a hot fuck, huh?" Jared asks as he surveys the room.
"After you're made to suck everyplace on his bod and more?" Dobie replies as he picks clothing out of his drawer.
It came to Jared, "Hey, you don't happen to do threeways with your uncle, do you?"
Making it clear, Dobie says, "If you want to go and do stuff with my uncle, then you don't need to hang around with me, Jared."
Thinking he hit a raw nerve, Jared observes the silence beset by Dobie's response to gather his thoughts before saying, "Uh, nah. I was only thinking out loud, with some weird fantasy idea. That's all."
Throwing a tee shirt over his head, Dobie asks, "Have you had threeway affairs before, Jared?" like treading on sacred ground.
Snapping his pants and zippering, Jared says, "Oh sure. You know dorm guys my age, we all cave in to the want and wills of our cocks!" He laughed.
Dobie smiled, but by appearance didn't think of the hilarity shown by Jared. Instead of furthering the conversation, he asks, "Ready?"
So, hopping in Dobie's Mustang, the two were off for 'the country'. Upon arrival then needed to explain themselves to the police, to get past the yellow tape blocking the dirt road, tied between two trees.
"There's Rick!" Jared spied through the dashboard window, pointing towards the side of a barn.
Getting out of Dobie's car, Jared didn't wait up, making a beeline for his dorm friend. "Like what the hell happened Rick?" he yells almost to his face before giving him a brotherly hug.
"I can't say anything right now," Rick replies. "There's an investigation going on and I can't talk to anyone..." but he did leave a smile on his face, saying, "except the cop over there..."
"Cop?" Jared swings his head around, his face cast in front of Dobie. Reminding him he didn't come alone, "Oh! Rick, this is Dobie." Then to Dobie, "Dobie, this is Rick."
"Hot!" Is all Rick could think as he shook Dobie's hand.
Before another word was said, Rick turns to the cop involved in the investigation, saying, "This is Deputy Mark, the police officer involved in the investigation."
Both Dobie and Jared scanned Mark's bod.
It was Dobie who inquires, "Aren't you out of uniform?"
Rick wasn't in civilian clothes, which the blanket over his shoulders and one draped around his waist gave creedance towards other question.
"Yeah," Mark replies. "Long story of which I am not at liberty to discuss."
Dobie stood there listening to the three chat, Jared asking, "Hey, is that 'it'?" he inquires of the giant tank being removed, one looking like an over-grown propane tank. He walks over by it, other cops shooing him away.
Mark, clad in his pants, his shirt on, but unable to fasten it closed on account of the buttons are ripped off, races over, telling the investigators, "It's okay. He's with me."
Dobie and Rick follow, catching up with the lot as the machine is placed on a pallet.
Inquisitively, Jared addresses Rick, "How did they use this on you?"
Everything was supposed to be confidential, but they all had a thirst for knowledge as Rick gave a play-by-play description of what he went through. "He tied me with my hands above my head so I couldn't touch myself... but hell! Who would want to with the hose," Rick bends down and picks up the end of the hose, taking it, then to show realism, loosens the blanket from around his torso, "put on my cock like this and then... hey, somebody wanna plug this in?"
"I thought you said you were tortured, Rick?" Jared asks.
"First time, yeah I thought it was, but after I blew my load and the farmer started milking my second load... hell, you oughta try this Jared!"
"Thanks, but I'll save it for a guy's hand!"
One of the other detectives, chubby dude, beard, says, "I might have a go at it!"
Glancing towards the police officer, Jared thinks, 'Hmm, nice lumberjack!'
Meanwhile, one of the police officers had found an extension cord and run it back to the shed. As soon as the milking machine began humming, all eyes shifted to Rick's cock.
"Um, I'd stand back if I were you guys," Mark cautions.
The bearded cop asks, "Why? This machine dangerous?"
Mark tells, "The jar," he points to the open part of the machine at the right top, where the cum jar would be screwed in, "the cum-collector... it broke."
As Ricky begins to feel the effects, the sucking action, which at the same time makes his shaft swell, he ellicits soft moans, but in response to Mark's comment on the jar, "That damn jar probably saved our lives!"
It then opened up to a new subject, thought everyone's attention from on the end of the hose, "Yeah, Ricky's a real hero. Saved not only his own life, but mine and the two boys strung up in the barn," Mark replies.
"You said you almost killed somebody?" Jared asks Rick.
It mostly went on dead ears as the pressure on Ricky's hard shaft became so 'sucking', he had to deal with the emotional outburst. "Help me here, Mark?"
"Excuse me," Mark says to Jared as he comes around Ricky's back, weaves his arms in between Ricky's and puts him in a full nelson.
"Shit!" the bearded cop says, seeing Ricky's hands let loose of the hose, his stiff shaft almost holding it straight out.
Mark shouts out in a humorous manner, "This is where the shit hits the fan!"
And sure enough, everyone around bent for cover as Ricky shot his load, cum shooting out of the 'jar hole', the force making it slither out of the opening, the air produced zillions of threads of cum, randomly taking out a cop here or there.
As for the bearded cop, he swipes an index finger over the side of his face, dislodging a fingerful of cum, looking at it.
In front of him, up pops Jared, asking, "Want me to take care of that for you?" The audacity in him, he takes the cop's finger and puts it in his mouth, savoring it.
Reading the cop authentically, the bearded cop says to Jared, "I have more than a fingerful of cum you can take care of!"
By this time Dobie, after seeing Jared with the cop, knew this wasn't the risque lifestyle he was into. He slowly saw it coming. Walking over to Jared, he says, "I gotta go." Staring eyes was all they needed, knowing their lives clashed both in action, deed and principle. Jared tried explaining, but Dobie rectified it, "I know," knowing they just weren't meant for each other.
Dobie leaving, Jared watched him go. It left a sad void in his mind, looking at Dobie walk back to his Mustang, his head hanging between his shoulders. Looking back, like over his life, at the bearded cop, Jared seemed like he was looking destiny in the face, deciding on the future and what could be, Dobie vs. the 'bear-cop'. "Sorry!" he chirped over his shoulder, carving his own path through the small crowd, shouting, "Hey! Wait up there a minute, will ya Dobie!"
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Copyright 2010 T. Chase McPhee
`THe HaRDee BoYs' 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.....