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 06 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
%
It was beautiful, Steve's perfect dive into the pool, his lithe bod swimming under the water, from one end to the other.
"Feels real nice. C'mon in," Steve called back across the rippling water, as if their previous conversation never took place, the invite as plain and casually rendered.
Steve watches Hunter walk the stretch of the pool, then tuck his hands to his shins and do an ungraceful cannonball!
Turning his head from the splashing, which to someone could very well be taken as an insult, Steve senses more talk is needed. Any wonder, the way he left the conversation abruptly upended? As Hunter shakes the water from his moderate haircut, Steve asks, "I've got some stakes and rope if you want to tie me out back in the horseshoe pits and torture me in the sun?"
Thinking something more than 'master/slave', 'sir/boy' or plain old bdsm fun when he encountered Steve, both in his home and when he first walked into Steve's house, Hunter revolts from the foresaid manner of approach, pressing Steve against the side of the pool, his lips engaged.
"What tha!" Steve says before he's silenced, his eyes wide open as he watches Hunter placing him in a lip lock.
Back in the upper deck of the garage, maybe it seemed like Hunter was losing his grip on things, but he ever-so-quickly brought things back into perspective, "Oh I'm going to want a lot more out of you than your hide, Steve!"
"Mm-m-m-m," Steve replied, a smile gracing his lips, wiggling his eyebrows. "I got a better idea. How about we go upstairs to the bedroom and you torture my ass?"
He was hovering in the water almost above Steve, but changes course of action and swims to the area where the pool narrowed, leading to a plane of short steps. As his wet bod is dripping water, Hunter says, "You coming?"
Steve made a snarl like a lion, saying, "Gnarly, yes sir!"
%
Almost like a prediction, Simon figured he would be assuming the role as mentor to Marshall, figuring the twenty-something year old hadn't yet moved into the big leagues of bdsm. When Hector called him on the phone last evening and explained the shared interest he and Marshall had and the scaled-down fun they've preceded, it tickled Simon to know he would be working with a 'novice' of sorts.
He was correct, Marshall saying a bit with embarrassment, but rather than admit it, "I think I'd find it interesting to see how you would go about busting his balls, Simon?"
A grin creased Simon's lips, knowing he was right about Marshall. Even though he released Hector's arms, to change places, Hector didn't flinch a muscle, his arms remaining as if tethered to the sofa with restraints. Instead of directly reporting to Marshall, Simon made a slight detour, picking up Hector's ditched work pants. Grabbing the buckle, he stripped it out from the loops. "Maybe you would like to show me what damage you can do with this?"
More than relief flooded Marshall's mind, the belt being presented over the bat. He didn't disappoint Simon, saying, "Hell yeah!" both because it excited him, holding the metal belt buckle and leather implement and anticipating using it. Not foreign to utlizing the leather strap, Marshall had often used it on a guy's balls. Referring to Barrett, he says, "I love using this on a guy's pecs too!"
Simon says with a giggle, "Hey, I don't care where you use it as long as you keep me hard!"
Feeling a return to the dominant demeanor, more comfortable in his 'territory', the belt in his hand instead of the bat, Marshall tells, "It's getting a little restraining for me too!"
Hands to his own belt buckle, Simon renders, "Hey, then what're we waiting for!"
Nobody could have been entertained more than Hector, sprawled out over the arm of the sofa, lounging as he watched the porn show, the two men stripping off shirts first, then getting down to unbuckling their jeans, unzipping, spreading the flaps, their spotted briefs tented, eventually totally divested of the cotton fabric.
"Nice!" Simon remarks.
Marshall couldn't believe it! As Simon compliments him on his 8c, he handles it, then drops to his knees and engulfs it! "Oh fuck yeah!" Marshall says of Simon massaging his balls while his lips and tongue sweetly bathe his shaft.
"Hey! What about me?" Hector breaks silence.
Two reactions, Simon popping off with a slurp, his angry mood coming over him and Marshall's sweet sentiment ceasing, was cause for Hector's impending 'problem'.
"I don't like this boy's attitude. What do you think we should do about it Marshall?"
"Punishment of course!"
Unfolding his arms, Simon went right for the balls, saying to Marshall, "Gimme that!" Taking the belt, he grabs Hector's balls, puts the belt around them and cinches the buckle where his balls meets the base of his cock.
"Akkkkkkkkkk! Oh fuck that hurts!"
"Get used to it boy. More than that's gonna hurt before we get through with you!"
"Where are we going?" Marshall asks when Simon uses the belt as a leash to lead Hector away, not being too 'friendly' about it.
"To give this boy what he deserves!"
Marshall noticed the cock drool, Hector dripping it down his own belt buckle!
%
"Here we are!" Steve announced, standing at the foot of the bed.
"Yeah," Hunter replies. "Home, sweet, home!" he shoves Steve on the shoulder blades, careening him into the bed, face forwards.
"What-tha-fu......"
Not giving him the edge, Hunter jumps on his back, his cock falling right into place. He grabs Steve's arms, pulling them behind his back at the elbows. "Not what you planned, eh Steve?"
He could see a partial view of Steve's face, the smile on his lips as Steve replies, "On the contrary... my plan couldn't have worked out better!"
"On the contrary," Hunter calls the shots, "you didn't have a plan Steve. There never was one. You were taking everything as it comes."
"Oh drad! You found me out!" Steve's muffled voice comes from out of the mattress, followed by a giggle.
But he was still mystified, nonetheless, when Hunter releases him, walks around the bed, takes the top of the comforter, strips it from the pillows, throws it down and hops in bed. "Well?" he says of Steve's head covered up.
"I suppose I'm not going to get very close to you if I remain here?" He then pulls the comforter from his head, revealing his face, staring straight up at Hunter.
"Well, what are you going to do Steve? Stay down there and admire me from afar or get up here and work my cock over?"
It was mighty tempting for Steve to say the least, Hunter lying there, legs splayed, knees bent and his rigid cock being petted for his own entertainment. "Be right there," Steve replies, before making his move.
Climbing over the comforter, he used his feet to push it down, where it fell off the bottom of the bed. A king-sized bed, there was plenty of room for two. Steve felt like crawling through the desert, with the oasis in sight.
He was just ready to fill his parched throat when Hunter says, "Ask nicely."
"May I please taste your thick, juicy, fat, teen cock?"
"It's not fat," Hunter differed.
"May I please taste your thick, juicy, teen cock?"
"It's not thick!"
"May I please..."
"Just get on it before it's not juicy anymore, Steve?" Hunter said, squeezing a bit more clear fluid from the spigot.
He tasted both cock and hand!
%
"Shit! Is this thing real?" Marshall says of the authentic looking rack.
Simon tells him, "Everything is real. Either it's imported or I've built it myself. Trust me, Marshall, everything in this room is the real thing." And then in Marshall's ear, because he's already sensed this, "a word of caution, if you don't know how it works... ask?"
"Sure," Marshall says, fondling a long metal rod with an 'x' on the end, hanging from the ceiling, located to the side of a furnace. "You use this?"
"Not yet. Just for show, but I've branded some guys with other irons," Simon replies.
In the meantime, Hector had wandered over to where two chains hung from the ceiling.
"How about Hector?" Marshall asks. "Have you branded him?"
"Not yet," Simon replies. "Probably never. He's not into it."
"Oh," Marshall replies. Then he frankly admits, "In my dungeon a guy doesn't have a choice."
Simon says, "That's what separates the novice's dungeon from big boy's dungeon. You're in the big time now. In this dungeon we go by different rules. Interested in learning them?"
"Sure," Marshall replies as he looks around, excitement growing in his loins as his eyes set upon the 'real' stuff, his eyes running through a rack of leather whipping implements.
Seeing the fascination, Simon tells Marshall, "Maybe after we put Hector to bed, you and I could have some fun trying out some of that leather?"
In agreement, Marshall replies, more bewildered by all the 'real' torture equipment, as opposed to his dingy, little, inadequate dungeon setup. As they approach Hector he wonders about what Simon told him, wondering what Hector is up for, Simon stretching the cuffs Hector has fastened around his own wrists, to hooks, dangling from chains.
"So what else can we do to his balls?" Marshall asks.
Probing Marshall's mind, Simon asks, "You don't faint at the sight of blood do you?"
"Blood?" Marshall replies back, taking a gulp. A quick search of his memory zone informs Marshall of the care he took 'playing' with guys in the past, not one as much as spilling a pin-prick of blood.
Smiling, Simon knows by Marshall's vocal and physical expression he is a raw, raw recruit. "Just as I thought. But to answer your unanswered question," the one apparently projected by the expression on Marshall's face, "we don't purposefully cause anyone to bleed, but depending on the intensity of the cock and ball torture, or even a simple lashing, some blood 'could' be spilled." Simon waited a bit longer for Marshall to adjust before saying, "Why don't you do me a favor and take Hector's boots off?"
"Sure," Marshall replies, bending on one knee. "Ooh, that's cold," he says of the cement when the head of his cock makes contact.
"Hee... hee... " and then, more of a suggestion, perhaps of something he's tried on a willing victim of the past, "would you like to see how it feels to have your cock and balls dunked in a bucket of ice?"
"No thanks," Marshall replies, making sure his anatomy stays clear of the floor as he unties Hector's boots. As Simon has been trying to find out about him, Marshall asks, "So Simon, just how does it feel to have your balls planted in a bucket of ice?"
He never answered, deviating to, "And after you get those boots off you can lace them up to Hector's balls!"
Marshall held the left one in his hand, saying, "But this workboot's got to weigh at least five pounds? Can his balls take ten pounds?"
Smiling, Simon replies, "Five pounds for each ballsac? You can't say we're not being considerate of Hector?"
"Oh," Marshall says, thinking both boots were going to be dangled from both balls. But when he begins going to the task, he states, "Even one boot on each sac.. that's a lot of weight!"
It's not he didn't care, but Simon knew what Hector was up to taking. Finished with hooking Hector's cuffs to the chains, Simon reports to a winch and gives it a few turns. "Let me know when he's standing on his toes!"
Momentarily putting the boots on hold, Marshall looks up Hector's bod. At first his arms rise up, higher and higher, branching out slightly, the silhouette of his hairy pits against the background of dungeon lighting.
"No... please..." Hector's false request falls on deaf ears.
Slowly, his meaty pecs stretch upwards, his stomach becoming more taut.
"Make him stop," Hector says, looking down in front of himself.
Marshall smiles, his eyes darting to Hector's feet. He then remembers he's supposed to be spot-checking Hector's 'toes'. "Almost there," he confirms. Then, two seconds later, "Okay. Hold it there, Simon."
After hearing a clunk, Simon seals off the mechanism so there is no fault when Hector begins thrashing about.
Seeing a problem lying within, Marshall questions, "We got a problem."
"Huh?" Hector even wonders!
Reporting to the front of Hector's chained up bod, Simon surveys the lower half, the place where Marshall is staring at. "Oh you mean having room to work?"
"Yeah," Marshall confirms Simon's assumptions, the space between thighs not wide enough to accomodate a pair of working hands.
"An easy fix." Walking over to what resembles a wooden workbench, Simon opens a draw and returns. "Here," he tosses one of the ankle cuffs to Marshall. "I'll take the right. You take the left."
Marshall wasn't totally sure of this, but placed the leather cuff, which didn't seem any different from the ones placed around Hector's wrists, and did up his left ankle.
"Just a minor adjustment," Simon proceeded to remove the safety latch of the winch and lower Hector down. "Let me know when his whole foot is on the floor."
Signaling, "Okay," Marshall waited till Simon returned.
"Here," he tutored Marshall in the art of stretching a leg out to the side, running a thin chainlink through the metal ring attached to the cuff. "After it's through, you just keep pulling until," he demonstrated, as the other end of the chain remained attached to the column, the chainly freely passed through the looped metal until Hector's foot became moving towards the column.
"Oh shit!" Hector called out, calling Marshall's attention to his arms overhead, a tug as Hector's bod weighed downwards, when pulled apart.
"Anytime you're ready, you can stretch out his other leg," Simon told Marshall.
"Cool!" Marshall said, overriding Hector's concerns, since Simon wasn't at all showing any remorse for the groans from the victim.
Because Simon had not re-engaged the latch mechanism, Hector's arms sagged a bit as Marshall dragged Hector's foot along the cement floor. Manning the winch, Simon watched and guided, "Stop when his left foot is about the same distance away from the stantion as his right foot. Yeah that's it," Simon said as his arms began exercising, slowly making each rung of the chain clack, moving it through the wheel from which two chains followed a track to Hector's wrists. "Much better?"
There wasn't any doubt in Marshall's mind, "Yeah. Really good." And as his hands, draw apart dictated, "Plenty of space to work now."
Testing, Simon asks, "Have you even hung anything from a guy's balls before?"
Smiling with a small show of embarrassment, because Marshall knew he played on a much smaller scale than Simon's setup here, "Sure, I...."
But before he could get it out, Hector throws out a small giggle, saying, "Hee.. heee, Si... he's worked with wooden clothespins... Ain't that a crock?"
Normally, being on a social level, plus one-on-one with Hector, Simon might think it funny. But being he had a 'guest' present, Simon put away his kidding and joking, saying, "Marshall, you going to put up with this boy's ridiculin' ya?"
Marshall was ready to take it as a joke himself. Afterall, he knew his setup in the basement encompassed only a miniscule amount of apparatus, thank the layout of Simon's dungeon. Before laying eyes upon it thought, he thought himself and Hunter to have a keen setup, what with the clothesline dangling from beams in the basement, the banquet table and other homemade-handmade stuff, they had a quality show for what a teenager and college frat could drum up. However, falling prey to Simon's way of thinking, Marshall puts on the tough guy image, arms folded across his middle, the wide stance as if a pending charge of a wrestler, he states, "Actually Simon, I don't take kindly to what Hector in insinuating."
"What are you going to do about it?"
It was a stalemate of sorts, but Marshall, not as up to date on facillitating the carrying out of punishment, which he figured a paddle to the ass might not be what was on Simon's mind, he throws it back on his mentor, "What would you suggest?"
"Well," Simon tilts over at the waist, picking up one of Hector's boots, "I was going to cut him a break, but being as he's obviously tried to belittle you in front of me..."
Hector, playing the game, says, "I wasn't trying to... ughhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
Marshall smiles, saying, "Cool!" after Simon has punched Hector in the gut with the toe of his own boot.
"As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted," Simon continues, "instead of leniency this boy needs remembering of who is calling the shots around here. Here, hold this."
After holding Hector's five pound boot, Marshall stands there, watching as Simon ties the boot lace around Hector's right ballsac.
"Oh! Oh!" Hector reacts to the skin between sac and the base of his cock being cinched. "Akk-k! Oh!"
Finished product, Marshall asks, "Should I drop it?"
An evil smiled comes over Simon's face, him responding, "A boy after my own heart! But no, hold on to it for a second." He swipes up the other boot.
As the first boot, Marshall holds on to it, until Simon says, "Here, give them here. You take the honors."
Like were Marshall's thoughts, he and his brother worked out of a crude setup. Once he toyed with a guy's balls, tying a clothesline both sacs once, but he was too shy to pull it tight. It got him hard thinking of the guy's ballsacs being strangled, but in his hands now were two thin, leather laces. "Like how tight should I tie them?"
Smiling, Simon nods towards Hector, saying, "Till he says so!" He laughs.
Not being sure what Simon meant, Marshall tried recalling the pangs of pain ellicited when Simon did up Hector's other ballsac.
"Oh! Oh! No! That's tight enough!" Hector played on Marshall's emotions.
Sarcastically, Simon replies, "It's not enough! Give it a big yank!"
So, Marshall gave the two ends of the shoelace a big yank. Hector had something to scream about as his sac got caught up in the leather.
"That's more like it!" Simon said with enthusiasm, same time handing one of the boots over to Marshall. "On the count of three?"
"Cool!" Marshall replies.
"One... two... oops!" Simon calls out, pretending he made a fumble, the boot falling out of his hand, half-catching it as it tugs on Hector's right ballsac.
"Akk-kk! Oh! Oh! Oh!" Hector shouts out, followed by some intense breathing.
"That 'was' accidental, wasn't it?" Marshall asks.
Simon says, "Does it matter?"
The two laugh as Hector is moaning.
Marshall, looking between Hector's balls, replies, "I guess to Hector it doesn't?"
A small drool of cock-spit forms at the tip of Hector's cock, it dripping a centimeter from the opening.
Then, to dispell anymore lost time, not that they didn't have plenty over it before Sunday's Super Bowl game, Marshall says, "Count of three?"
"On two?" Simon laughs.
So, even though Marshall intended on releasing his boot on three, Simon followed through with his threat, dropping Hector's boot on two, giving Hector the old 'one-two' kick of the ball torture!
%
"You can start on my balls."
"Can I tie you to the bed?"
"Tie me to the bed Steve?"
"It can be very erotic licking and sucking you with you tied to the bed, Hunter. Ever try it?"
"Dah, Steve. Would I be asking you if I had?"
Sitting there doggie style, Stever replies, "You don't trust me, do you?"
"You asked for a cup of flour and then didn't stick around to get it, Steve!"
"Sugar!"
"Whatever. No, I don't want you tying me to the bed," Hunter replied adamantly.
"Okay. No problem. Hold on a second." Steve falls to the side, onto his stomach and casts half his bod off the bed. He reaches under it, returning with a pair of leather cuffs. "Mind if I put them on?"
"Yourself, no. Go ahead."
Hunter watches as Steve purposefully holds each wrist up and secures the cuffs around them.
"Mind?" he asks, hinting for Hunter to help fasten the buckles.
They didn't break eye contact, except for a few glances as Hunter threaded the buckles.
"Oh! One more thing!"
Hunter watches as Steve flaunts his white ass, looking for something under the bed. "You hide all your toys under there, Steve?"
"Nah. Only spur-of-the-moment ones!" he replies, producing a piece of metal, a hook-clasp at each end. "Mind doing the honors?" He twists his bod around so his hands are paired, after tossing the clasp on the bed.
"I could really take advantage of you with your hands bound behind your back, Steve?"
"I know," Steve replies, their eyes stuck in the stare position.
Sitting up, Hunter picks up the clasp, hooking it first to the left ring on the leather cuff, then fastening it to the right.
"How do I look?" Steve asks as he faces Hunter, his chest proud, arms unable to cinch out of their bondage.
"Like a fuckin' slave. So what's next Steve?"
"Your wish is my command!"
"I have a feeling you know what to do," Hunter replies.
On the bed they still lock eyes, Hunter laying in the four pillows which grace the top of the wide bed, Steve there on his knees. Slowly he bends his neck, his chest curving. "Whoooooa!" he says, his whole bod keeling over.
"Oh fuck!" Hunter calls out, grabbing at the sheets, his back arching as Steve's warm, wet mouth engulfs his dipstick!
%
"I would have gone at his balls with a vengeance!" Marshall announces to Simon.
"I figured so," Simon replies as he softly whips each of Hector's balls with the end of Hector's own belt. "But don't get me wrong. Some guys can take it... crave it... but Hector here, he's a real wimp, though I've seen some more tolerance as we've worked at it. Right Hector?" Simon asks, as he hits one of Hector's stretched out sacs.
Hanging there, arms outstretched above his head, the boot swinging, his willing victim responds appropriately, "Oh fuck yeah!"
"What'd you say boy?" Simon toyed with him, the leather implement slapped a little harder against the other stretched out nutsack.
"Akkkkkkkk! Yes sir!"
"Here, take over," Simon says to Marshall.
Using the same technique, Marshall 'teases' Hector's balls, slapping the belt underneath, returning it over the top. He giggles, watching the boots 'walking'.
All this time, tied around Hector's middle, a line keeps his cock out of the way. Simon changes all that, "Time to rev it up!" He has Marshall chill out for a second while he addresses Hector's nips.
"Fuck that's gonna hurt!" Marshall says. He had thought clothespins on a guy's nips sheer torture, but alligator clips, attached to a braided chain in Simon's hands really made his cock tingle with excitement. He was already spiked, but this was giving Marshall's hard shaft more to go on.
"Yeah, fuckin' gonna maim those nips, boy," Simon prepped Hector, rubbing the tips of alligator clips over Hector's hairy nips. "Ready boy?"
"Yes... sir," Hector said, but not without swallowing and taking a deep breath. "Akkkkkkkkkkkkk-ohhhhhhhh-hh-hhh-fuck!" he screams out as the fine-toothed clips bite into both nips. "Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" Hector screams out as he arches his back.
"Intense!" Marshall calls the shots, stroking himself as he draws off of Hector's pain.
"We ain't done yet!" Simon announces, untying the loop around Hector's bod, the one holding his cock up and out of harm's way from the leather strapping of his balls. A loop around his cock head, under the flange, keeps it from seeping out it's precious man-protein. "Part two!"
Keen with interest, Marshall watches, commenting, "Cool!" as Hector winces, Simon attaching the cord around Hector's cock head to the chain dangling between nips.
"Oh fuck yeah!" Hector calls out, his nips stretched as his cock hangs in the balance.
"You can go back to your ball busting," Simon says as he rounds Hector's back. And, holding his cock up, he says, "After I have my satisfaction we can change places."
%
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.....