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.
HuNTeR GeTs CaPTuReD By ThE GaMe 03 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"Whenever you're ready Hector? The longer you wait, the more severe the punishment!"
Hector, the macho dude from the basement, is reduced to quivering as he replies, "Well, how am I supposed to know how to stand? It's not like I've had my balls treated like ping pong balls everyday, you know?" He stands there in the buff, feet slightly apart. "And what am I supposed to do with this?"
Acting sincere, with little emotion, Hunter says of Hector's long cock, as he cracks a smile, "I'd say if you didn't want it to get in the way, hold it 'out of the way'?"
"Yeah right." Then sarcastically, "I bet if it got 'in the way' you would get your jollies out of giving my cock a few whacks, wouldn't you?"
"'Dunno. Never paddled a cock before. Would you?"
Putting it to Hunter, he replies, "This whole scene is insane. You're lucky I'm allowing you to whack my balls with that thing!"
"Then again I 'could' mention to Marshall how you woosed out on me?"
Pointing his finger at Hunter, Hector sets it a-waggin', warning him, "Hey, you promised you wouldn't say anything if I did what you said," and while he was at it, "and you better not tell anybody!"
"We're up to fifty whacks... you stalling for more?"
"Fifty-fuckin' whacks? You fuckin' kiddin'? That'll fuckin' kill off my manseed!" Hector said with fury, closing up his legs, placing both hands over the whole production for protection.
Challenging Hector, "You dissapoint me."
"You? All I wanted is to come up here and... and..."
"And have me give you a 'nice' blowjob, ice up your sucking tube so you could 'ride' my teen ass?"
"Um, well... I wouldn't put it that way."
"You want to fuck me Hector?"
"Sure, if you want me to."
"Don't make me laugh. If you want my ass you're going to have to work for it. You want my ass?"
"Hell, yeah!" He finally admitts to, figuring he's going to get it, figuring Hunter is pushing all of this to the side.
"When I finish paddling your balls we'll talk about it."
Hector had a strange feeling come over him. All this talk about fucking Hunter's teen ass, catching glimpses of it, as wnhe led him out of the basement dungeon, up to his room, the anticipation, had conglomerated into one whole big notion that come hell or high water, he 'had' to have Hunter's ass. However, not included in this vision was the aspect of the pain rendered with the teen's ping pong game commenced. Upon protecting himself he just realized something when withdrawing his hands. The one holding his cock was 'slimed'!
"You got a tissue?"
"You got a tongue. Use it!"
"What tha?" Hector replies, more in a breath, rather than actual spoken words. The least of all things, what harm could there be in licking his own precum off his fingers. Usually, it were some other guy doing the honors of keeping his cock clean. Really, he hadn't tasted his own cum since being curious, back in junior high school. Big deal, he places two fingers in his mouth and sucks on them.
"Taste good?"
"No."
"Wrong answer boy!"
"What tha? I'm allowing you to paddle my balls. Can't I get a break someplace here?" the Hispanic complains.
Hunter, meant to humiliate, says, "No breaks for bad boys!"
"Now you wait just a minute here, you fuckin' little weasel... where's my pants and tee shirt?"
He couldn't help it, Hunter seeing this totally macho, muscular moving-man reduced to a freaking wimp, under his direction. Maybe more than anything, it was probably the motivating force for the tingling sensation in his crotch, which he had to deal with, keeping his shaft hard!
"Oh man, Marshall's going to have a field day with this!"
"I don't give a fuckin' damn what you tell him!"
"Your call Hector," Hunter casually replies. "Oh man, I can't wait till Marshall sees your moving buddies and tells them you submitted to having your balls bashed and then renegged!"
With one hand on his pants, keeping them from dropping to around his knees, Hector once again points the finger of fate, telling, "He promised... 'you' promised that anything we did here would 'not' go beyond this house!" He finished tidying up his beltline.
"Don't get your cock caught in your zipper!" Hunter said, with intention.
Smirking, Hector asks, "Where's my briefs?"
Probably in the jon where you left them?" Really, even though they were ordinary tightey-whities, Hunter added them to his briefs collection.
"I don't see-e-e-ee them in heree-e-e-ee!"
Hunter smiles, knowing the obvious. "Maybe they fell in the hot tub and oh, while you're at it, do some scuba diving and retrieve your zipper!"
Walking in the jon, Hunter sees him doing just that. Kneeling, Hector's hand is waving throught the salt-scented, churning waters, for his briefs.
It was quite spacious, but being Marshall and he lived in a luxury mansion, high end part of the small town, it was loaded with amenities. And pretty much so, since his father was out of town on business, with Marshall left to care for him, everything went along pretty much on carte blanche.
"Oh thanks!" Hector said sarcastically when the swirling waters picked up, via a flick of a switch, bubbles churning up surf.
Stepping down the three steps, Hunter made himself at home, first back floating, making his cock purposefully bob above the water and then settling his ass down on one of the underwater steps. "C'mon in!"
Hector froze in place. At the same time he wondered what devious, dastardly deed lurked in this teen's mind. Then again, his mind wasn't ignoring the hip action spun by Hunter when he entered the hot tub, the five of nine inches peeking above the surface. "What about the ball whacks?"
Rather than suggest, he turned the punishment over to Hector to be dealt out, "If you want to we can pace it."
"Pace it? How would that go?" Hector inquires. He knew he should be hightailing it out of there, not leaving to chance anything for Hunter's psychological banter, meant to catch him up in giving in. However, more than this, Hector was contending with the throbbing between his legs, all which was needed to lead himself on, let alone Hunter's coercion techniques.
"As soon as you get in the tub we can talk about it."
Hesitation was on his mind and the instantaneous reaction following his thought, but at the same time he thought to himself, 'what could possibly go wrong in a hot tub'?
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"Now," Marshall says as he rubs both hands together, "all that remains is 'how' to remove all this solid wax from your pecs. How about my belt?" he goes for his buckle.
"Mercy please, sir?"
Hunter smiles. He knows the rules and to what extent they agreed upon, regarding Barrett's limits. "Had enough for today?" He asks, rather sweetly, a smile attached to his disposition as he leans a bit, standing to Barrett's side.
"Had enough nip torture, I think," Barrett replies in a soft tone, not at all identical to his initial reaction, one of impending excitement.
"Felt good though, right?" Marshall says as he runs his hand over Barrett's wax-covered right pec, across midchest, where some of his light brown chest hair is still visible, ending with cracking some of the left pec wax as he tries tweaking his nip.
"Oh-h-h-h-h! Still feels warm, Marshall... I mean, sir." Weary from the pleasing ordeal, Barrett's forgotten some of the bdsm lingo.
"My cock is nice and warm!"
Barrett looks to the side, watching Marshall firm it up.
Given the hint, the high-schooler replies, "I betcha my ass is hot."
"I 'know' your ass is hot!"
The dialogue proves pleasing to both and it's not the first time Marshall has hinted Barrett.
"I think maybe it's time I've punished your ass!"
"Yes, sir," Barrett replies, some of the original enthusiasm attached.
From experience, Marshall knows the removal of wax from a guy's hairy bod is going to hurt like hell, so once he gets past the threshhold, jambing his cock beyond Barrett's ass ring, reaching the place where in and out action causes both parties extreme pleasure, he begins to slowly remove it, bit by bit. Alternating, he swipes his hand over Barrett's cock. Twenty minutes later the manufacturer's warranty on the banquet table is working on overtime, trying to withstand the torturous action of it rocking to and fro as Marshall pounds Barrett's ass.
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"Well that's different," Hector says as his and Hunter's arms crisscross each others on the rim of the hot spa bath. "I thought you were going to paddle my balls all at once."
"I was," Hunter replies, looking at Hector.
Knowing it is not the case now, Hector can smile about it, but still with reluctant acceptance, "I still don't know how I'm going to handle two at a time."
"I'll go light."
"Thanks."
"At first!"
"Yikes!" Hector exclaims.
Then Hunter throws him a curve, "I bet it wouldn't seem as bad if you stroked yourself as I did it?"
"I don't know. Only danger in that is I might learn to enjoy it!"
He was joking and Hunter made it seem like he was too, "I know!"
A lull in their conversation, both enjoyed the sensation of the bubbling water, kept heated by a thermostat.
Hunter then suggests, "Why don't you go and get the paddle and we'll try a couple now?"
"Here? In the hot tub?"
"Um, did I mention I have to give you all one hundred whacks before you leave?"
"WTF?"
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"So, would you rate this as 'hot' as the last time we spent together?"
Marshall was being funny and Barrett probably would have caught on, if not for his reaction when he sat on the edge of the table, after being released from his bondage.
"OMG! My pecs! They are like so-o-o like red!"
"Feel'em," Marshall suggests.
From experience, he knew, and as Barrett placed both palms on his meaty pecs, he sensed for himself, "OMG! They are like so hot!"
"And how do you like your pink nips?"
No stranger to tweaking his own nips, Barrett gives them a twisty-job. "Oh, like they're so stingy." But further investigation, beyond his sore nips, he discovers, "OMG!"
"What?" Marshall says as he starts cleaning up the fragments of used wax, cracked off from Barrett's chest, knowing there were a few things left for discovery.
"My chest hair. Some of it is like... gone!"
"Comes with the territory. Say, how about an ice pack? I think it might feel soothing?"
All for it, Marshall quit in the middle of clean up and took Barrett upstairs.
At the top of the basement stairs, he says, "Oh, I forgot my clothes."
"Later," Marshall replies. "It's Friday night. We've got plenty of time. Remember, no school tomorrow?"
Barrett was unsure of Marshall's remark. All the other six or seven times they've played in the basement, it's been, 'Okay, see you next time'. He wondered how the progression of this session with Hunter's twenty-five year old brother, differed? Still turned on by the memory of the wax, when it was hot and streaming down the his pecs, some coagulating on his stomach, midchest or down the sides of his bod, fresh on his mind, he sought to forget the unanswered question and go with the flow. "So, you think ice might help?" he said, standing there in the kitchen.
"Yeah, but not here."
"Huh?"
"I need to really pack it on your chest Barrett. Better upstairs in the tub, where the water can trickle down the drain."
"Yeah, you're right," Barrett agrees.
So, the two, still in their playclothes, nothing, walk out in the hallway and climb the stairs. About to set foot in his room, Marshall snaps his fingers and says, "Oh! Forgot. The faucet in my tub is broken. We'll use Hunter's jon.
About facing, the two walk side by side, Marshall still talking up the high-wired torture session. The door ajar, they admit themselves, Marshall saying, "Awfully quiet in here."
But the silence is shattered by a wailing, "Ak-k-k-k-k-k-k! Oh-h-h, oh, oh!"
Marshall and Barrett look at each other and high tail it towards the place where the human cry came from within.
"That fuckin' hurt so bad!" Hector says, looking over his shoulder as his hands are spread shoulder length, bracing his bod on the rim of the hot tub wall. His feet spread much wider, his cock and balls dangling down between. Turning his head back for the dose to his other ballsac with the paddle he has even a more rude awakening. "Oh shit!"
"Now what's this all about?" Marshall asks, passing the two ice trays off to Barrett.
On the other hand, Hunter's attention is drawn to Barrett. Standing, he exclaims, "Barrett, what did Marsh do to you?"
In a tricky predicament, Hector began explaining. Probably his face already seemed red from the water temperature, rather than the embarrassment of Marshall making a connection between the paddle in his brother's hand, with Hector's legs so far apart.
"Here, take over," Hunter says as he exits the hot tub, Marshall stepping in.
Trying to cover, Hector tries to cover up, "We were just having some innocent fun. That's all."
On the other hand, Hunter sets the record straight, "I was punishing him for being uncooperative."
"Is that so?" Marshall replies, a smile forming on his face.
Since there's a change of hands, Hector figures he can weasel his way out, asking, "Hey, what time is it?"
"Why? You ain't going nowhere until I finish out your sentence!"
"Listen, Marshall, me and your brother... we were having some fun, but it was between him and me, okay?"
"Sure, but..." and yelling to Hunter, whom has escorted Barrett to the tub and has him lying down, "how many whacks does he have left?"
Hunter yells back, "I forget. Just start over!"
"I was supposed to get a hundred. He's given me eight." With further explanation, "Your brother says I can get two at a time."
"Two?" Marshall toys with Hector's mind. "A strapping muscle man like you taking a measly two? I'd feel insulted if I were you. You'll take all one hundred."
"You mean ninety-two?" Hector quickly did the math. "But I think I really should be going."
"You work on Saturdays, Hector?"
"Um, no, but my co-workers and I were going to get together and watch the hockey game and..."
"Hey, maybe I'll come along!" Marshall says with excitement. "I love hockey!" And as he says it he rolls one hand up like a cup and slaps it with the ping pong paddle.
Seeing maybe he's getting out of a harsh ball-busting, Hector says, "Sure. You're welcome to come along."
"Well great. Thanks. And now we better get to your punishment, get it over with, so there's a chance maybe your balls won't be throbbing by tomorrow."
"Really," Hector says, wanting out, "I think this has gone far enough. Eight swats of the paddle on my balls was enough. Surely I won't be able to take a hundred."
"Nonsense Hector. Now how would you think your co-workers would react tomorrow when I tell them you could only take eight smashes of the paddle against your balls? Huh? What do you think they would say?"
Hector was lost for words. Here he had as much invited Marshall for an afternoon of hockey with guys he's worked with since college days and now he was as much as signing his death sentence in regards to their friendship. "No, you can't do that!"
Knowing he won, Marshall lays back in the tub. Looking at the paddle, turning it over and back, he suggests, "You know, this 'is' kind of harsh. If you want to, instead of this paddle some nice, soft leather might be less harrassing on your balls. What do you say?"
At this point Hector saw the light, knowing he wasn't going to escape the predicament he got himself into. Sure, he could forfeit the friendships of his co-workers, but then he thought not only would he be losing them, but might as well toss away the job as well. In this economy jobs were tough to come by and being with the same company numerous years he wasn't about to start all over again. "Yeah, okay. What the hell... Let's get it over with!"
"Cool!" Marshall announces. "Let's get dried off."
"Where are we going?" As if Hector didn't have his suspicions.
Stepping out of the hot tub, Marshall tosses Hector a towel, saying, "To get you properly trussed up for your punishment!"
Right behind them, behind a glass enclosure, Hunter is rubbing two ice cubes over Barrett's pecs.
"Feels real good, Hunter."
"Yeah, it does," he goes along with the pleasurable statement, his cock rubbing up against Barrett's cock and balls.
"You can fuck me if you want?"
Being they both hung around for a year and half, it's often been communicated, whereas Barrett could be promiscuous, in the opposite position, Hunter always said, "Now you know my position on something like that Barrett?"
Barrett smiled back, saying, "I know." But what Hunter didn't know is, "You know your brother kissed me in the kitchen?"
"Kissed you? Nah. Marsh never kisses anybody, except himself in the mirror!"
"But he kissed me," Barrett said, a broad smile on his face.
"Oh really?" He then believed, Hunter tucking the information away for further brotherly torment. "And what did he say about it?"
"Nothing. He took the ice out of the freezer, suggested we come here and as I moved forwards he stayed put, our faces colliding."
"Maybe it was an accident?" Hunter called it, switching from some tiny, melted away cubes, big enough only for the tips of Barrett's nips, taking up two big, plump ones.
"Nope. Because he did it again later."
"When?" Hunter asks, allowing the two cubes to remain stationery on top of Barrett's nips.
"Halfway between your room and his, when he remembered the faucet was broken."
"Shocking!" Hunter says.
Finding it funny, Barrett laughs and says, "Why? Isn't it normal for two gay guys to kiss?"
"Sure it is, especially if they like each other."
"Or love?" Barrett turns up the heat.
"Nah. Marshall in love? Can't be."
But for Barrett, Hunter's comment came as a let down. "I like Marshall."
Hunter's reasoning was, "You like my brother because he will give you what you want and is not afraid of going too far."
"He respects my limits. Besides," he sweetens up his reply, "I like the way you torture me Hunter?"
"That's not what I mean. For instance, dripping hot wax on your nips, I could maybe stand to see one or two drips drop on you, but... I couldn't cover your whole pecs with wax Barrett."
"I know."
It left the two looking at each other, staring deep into their eyes as if looking into each other's souls. Sure, they played the game for the past year and a half, but more than that, they were the only two souls whom they first came out to, outside of family for Hunter and as for Barrett, Hunter was the only person he ever told he was gay.
"I'll never forget what you did for me Hunter."
"Hey, I only wish I had as sensitive nips as you!"
Barrett, on one or two occasions, had teased Hunter and now was the opportune moment for him to reach up and tweak Hunter's nips.
"Owch!" He yelled, swatting Barrett's hands away.
Barrett laughed and used to the teasing, Hunter did the same, saying, "You deserve punishment for that!"
"Oh yeah?" Barrett toys with his high school bud, asking, "And what would I be in for?"
"Haven't you had enough punishment for one day?"
"I guess." Then the sad part hit, Barrett reminding them both, "And just think, only two more months and we'll be taking off in different directions."
It set forth a melancholy mood, the two getting out of the tub, drying off, taking their special friendship into the bedroom. Unlike hours ago, the two cuddle up in Hunter's bed, Hunter's front to Barrett's back, the two lying there as they had when they first met a year and a half ago.
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Copyright 2010 T. Chase McPhee
`HuNTeR GeTs CaPTuReD By ThE GaMe' 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.....