The following story is a work of fiction set in the format of reality. Any resemblance to real people is entirely coincidental in nature, and is not meant to accurately reflect persons in towns, cities, or governmental areas, in which the story is staged. If sexual scenes 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 states and countries, you are not allowed to read this by law. This is fiction. Don't forget, in real life, to think about 'sexual safety matters'; got condom?
"Out In The Wild, Wild West" 01 (M/M oral anal bdsm) WritTen by T. Chase McPhee
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Circa 1880's - the place: the Wild, Wild West
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"Jim, would you fuckin' stop rubbing your body against me?"
"Oh, Artie, you know I'm only joking, yet...."
"If you joke about me turning you on one more time, I'm outta here, James."
"Alright... alright!"
Artemus Gordon had had his fill of Jim West. For years they had worked together and it's only recent that he's sensed this change in Jim's mood. At first, yes, it was one big joke, but now it's become annoying and their working relationship has been tensed.
"No, I think it's time we've talked about this. Jim, are you gay?"
Jim West let out a huge laugh. Seemed like it rocked the whole train, as they rolled into the town of Otter's Creek.
"Jim, I hate to say it, but I think it's time we've parted company. I've been putting up with this for long enough and I can't stand to see the changes you've been going through."
"You can't be serious, Artie," Jim said, being coy.
"I am, Jim," Gordon replied, showing frustration.
"Well, if that's the way you feel about it and since I'm officially informing you that I am, in fact, 'gay', then maybe you should think about taking your prejudiced feelings and getting the hell outta here!"
That's all that Artemus Gordon had to hear. As soon as the train made a halt, he grabbed his prepared bag and hopped down the steps, onto the platform, made his way to a buggy and left. This isn't any sudden plan, on Gordon's part. No, he's been planning to make his move and this had been the perfect vehicle for his departure. He knew this wouldn't be the last he's seen of James West. Next time, it would be under 'his' terms.
"That didn't seem too tough, Jim!"
Turning around, Jim looked over his shoulder. Next, came the smile. In the parlor of the 1880's train car, stood his friend, Cheyenne Bodie.
"Hey, how have you been, Bodie?" Jim states, walking up to the six foot, three inch tall cowboy.
"Missing you and where's your manners, Jimbo'?"
"Let me drop these blinds and I'll show you!"
As Jim dropped the shades, Bodie began unbuttoning the front of his leather fringed shirt that crossed his wide pecs.
"Here, let me finish that, 'Sir'," Jim called out, rushing over to release the last button, as bottom edge of Bodie's hairy bellyhole.
Pulling the shirt from the cowboy's beltline, Jim pressed it back over his shoulders.
"Got all sweaty on the trip here, Jimbo'. Why don't you start by licking my chest?"
"Anything you say, um Sir."
Cheyenne Bodie smiled. He couldn't believe that he had snagged the sexiest, macho man of the west, to be 'his'.
"Jimbo'?"
"Yes, Sir?"
The two chatted, as Jim West stuck his tongue out and began grooming the sweaty cowboy's hairy chest. Beginning dead center, he wet down the thirty-two year old's thick buffalo fur. Then, slurping upwards, with small laps. Meanwhile, Bodie reached in between them and began unlatching Jim's shirt from his body.
"Oooooooooooh!" Jim groaned, as Bodie found the small niplets on the fuzzy pecs.
"Yeah... it's been a long time I've worked you over, Jim."
Stopping momentarily, he looks up and replies, "Yes, Sir and my body has missed the abuse. That special kind of abuse only you can give me, Sir."
Jim took to calling the dominant Sheriff 'Sir', rather than Cheyenne, from the start of their relationship, meeting quite by accident about a few months back, on the trail. Matter of factly, Jim paid dearly, for telling Bodie to his face that he thought Cheyenne sounded kind of 'girly'. The insult drew fire from Bodie, whom lashed out, packing his firm, rather large, heavy fist, hurling it into Jim's abs.
"Remember that first time, what's it been Jimbo'?"
"Meaning the evening you tucked in my gut?"
"Yeah, the night I taught you how to submit, on your knees, Jimbo'?"
"Ten months, Sir."
"The night you 'insulted' me, Jimbo'?"
Jim could see a plot forming. One that would lead them into some hot bdsm, a 'sport' Jim craved, as well as Bodie.
Smiling, Jim, acting as macho as that first night they met, points out, "I still think 'Cheyenne' is a 'girly' name!"
"As soon as you strip that shirt, I'll show you how 'girly' these fists can be, Jimbo'."
Now grinning, the two began the set up for their play. To Jim West, his worked out body came to be known as his pride and joy. He loved having his body worked to the max, not limiting it to his abs. That first night with the buffalo hunter, proved that he needed a man around whom could test his limits consistently.
He didn't, by conincidence, happen to rub against Artemis Gordon, taunting him. Jim hadn't 'come out' and told of his preference for the male sex, yet it disturbed Gordon enough to want out of the duo. Fortunately, an important desk job became available, in Washington, so Gordon could 'jump ship' or 'hop train' and report back to a more illustrious position. However, Gordon had some secrets of his own that James West hadn't an inkling of, which he would someday find out, regretting the humiliation he put his ex-partner through.
Meanwhile, back at the train car, Cheyenne Bodie, finishing the last of his stripping, stands there, exercising one hand, opening and closing his fist, readying it for James West's ab workout. His other hand firms up his 10c, buffalo sized meat, readying it for the first of several workouts, whenever duty called, this evening.
"How would you like me, Sir?"
Bodie spots a hook in the ceiling.
"That would be ideal, Jim. Here," Bodie says, taking a pair of legal Sheriff cuffs and tossing them at Jim. "Put these bracelets on."
Hurled at Jim's chest, he misses, but eventually catches the metal hand cuffs, as they fall to his bare pubes.
"Hmm, not a bad idea, Jimbo'. Maybe later."
"What, Sir?"
"Hee heee... why don't we leave that as my little surprise?" The half Native American, half white man replies.
After fastening the metal handcuffs on his own wrists, Jim takes an ottoman and holds it under the hook in the ceiling. Stepping up on it, he hooks his cuffed wrists over it. Next, he leans on the cuffs, drawing all his weight to the metal restraints. Bodie edges the ottoman away with the toe of his bare foot. Continually looking up at James West's hairy, totally bare body, he keeps leaning on it. Jim looks down at Bodie.
"Go ahead, Sir. I can take it!"
Bodie grins, giving the ottoman a terrific heave. It scrapes along Jim's shins, then dislodges from touching his limbs.
"Akkkkkkkkkkk.........oooooohhhh...ooooh man!" Jim says, as the metal cuffs dig into his wrists.
"Too much for you Jim?"
"Fuck no! Oh man... I love hanging by my arms, Sir!"
"Hmmm... not so sure about you swinging around while I bash in your stomach, though."
A man with a plan! Cheyenne Bodie might have lived more than half of his life out on the plains, hunting buffalo, but after settling down in a small town, after being elected it's Sheriff, he began to formulate other 'retirement' plans, after meeting James West. The man's wheelings and dealings, of the townspeoples, made them see that severence pay could give them future benefits, when they heard of Cheyenne's job change to that of Major James West's partner. Bodie promised of 'remembering his friends'. Whether he did or not, was not part of the deal, as he saw it.
"You know me, Sir. I'll do all I can to accomodate you."
"Hmm... don't think that'll satisfy me, Jimbo'!"
West was hopeful of some sort of response. That first night, he had a limited experience at Cheyenne's campfire. His test of how tough he could be, against Bodie's fists, proved that he needed to workout more. However, they became best of friends, coming to terms of trust, at a secret desire and fantasy each has wanted to live out. Months of planning, brought each of them together, forming a more permanent bond. Now Jim could get all the abuse he wanted, from a man whom he knew would go for anything and not hold back.
As he looked back on those short memories, Cheyenne Bodie went to work on his little plan of tighter restraints. Moving the ottoman back under Jim West's sagging body, he positioned the hairy thighs to each side.
"Love this macho body, Jimbo'. Can't wait to start abusing it!" Bodie remarked, running his hand over the hairy pecs, which firmed up the nips, then down the taut abs, his index finger tracing the thin, distinguishable belly trail, as it filled out around his deep navel..
There James West hung by his arms, his thirty-five year old body taut as a piece of leather, drying in the sun. His nice pecs began to show the sweat, through the medium brown fur that covered his chest. His tight abs shone off the dark, decided trail that ran through the middle of his stomach, widening, as it ran straight through his pronounced bellyhole. Then the tight, thin treasure trail proceeded to his pubic bush, which sported the 8c and rather large endowment of globes.
"Hope this isn't going to be too much for you, Jimbo'," Bodie laughed an evil giggle, as he kicked the ottoman away from Jim's body, behind him.
"Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk! Oooooooooooh fuck!" Jim cried out.
"Haaa ha ha ha haaaaa...ha ha ha..oooh, I think I got you this time, Jimbo'! C'mon now... beg me to release your balls!"
"Hell no.......of fuck that feels...sooooo awesome!"
"That's my boy, Jimbo'... My painpig!"
Shoving the ottoman aside, wasn't replay of the bondage scene, of James West, hanging from his wrists, in metal cuffs, in the raw. Bodie, his proclaimed tormentor, had tied a leather lace around both of James West's ballsacs, separating his sacs from his cock. The other end of the long lace, stretched downwards, tied around one of the legs of the ottoman. Whenever Bodie felt led, he could kick the ottoman farther across the room, out in front of Jim, thereby stretching his ballsacs even further, providing that opposite reaction, to keep Jim's body from swinging, as a result of his gutbusting.
"Now to see how much work you've done on those abs, since last we met, Jimbo'."
Good thing the two could strip down their clothing. As the train chugged along, it became hotter than hell.
"Ugggghhhh!" Jim belched, as Bodie's big, curled fist made contact with his gut.
"Hmm... not bad, Jimbo'... not bad at all!" Bodie replied, impressed and gearing up for the next punch, holding his fist to Jim's stomach.
It wasn't only his stomach that took the abuse. As the punch tucked in his abs, above his navel, the painful maneuver caused his balls to suddenly stretch.
"I do believe that the ottoman has moved?" Bodie said, smiling, reaching down and with two hands, pulled it away from Jim West's hanging body.
Feeling a dull ache, down yonder, Jim sighed, throwing his head back. The pain was something eurphoric. Sure, at times he's accidentally been hit in the crotch, but the deliberate stretching and the hand that did it, turned him on immensely. He knew it. He hoped somebody else noticed.
"Hmmm... I have much to learn about you, Jimbo'," Bodie summised, lifting a fingerful of goo from Jim's cock, after drawing out the liquid, with a mild stroke of his hand, up the barrel.
Lifting his hand towards Jim's lips, he fed him the sustenance. Following the protein sip, Bodie followed through with a 'good' working over. Both, the sweat flying off their sweating bodies, the huge fists working over the tight abs, the alternating stretching of James West's ballsacs, in the process.
"Ooooh man! I'm beat," Cheyenne replied, after twenty-five hefty punches to West's gut.
"Noooooooooo...pleeease....don't stop, Sir!"
"Gotta. More than my fists need a break."
Cheyenne Bodie wasn't any weakling. Standing six feet, three inches tall and weighing in at two hundred and fifteen, years of buffalo hunting had given his stature a muscular look. Kicking the ottoman, loosening up on Jim's balls, he stepped up on it. Using his Sherriff's keys, he opened one of the cuffs. Jim gasped, as Bodie caught his body, under his pit, holding him up against himself. With the release of the other cuff, he jumped down, releasing the tension fully on Jim's balls.
"Ooooooooooh!" Jim groaned.
"Don't worry, Jimbo' I've got lots more plans for those ballsacs. Nope, not going to disappoint you, but for now, I need to loosen the tension in my own balls!"
Not unlacing James West's balls, Cheyenne Bodie dropped the government agent's body onto the tufted ottoman. Not even preparing for entry, he split the ass like bread and butter. Hovering over West, Bodie stuck the tip of his monster cock right up to the dime-sized hole.
"Told you I'd be back to split your ass again, West!"
Taking a precaution, before jambing his cock up West's chute, he firmly tied the laced balls to two of the legs of the ottoman, plus brought both wrists behind Jim's back, recuffing them.
"Time for the buffalo ride of your life, Jimbo'," then leaning down to Jim's ear, he stated, "by the way, Jimbo', get used to it! Haa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"
From that first night together, James West learned to suck his 'Sir's' cock, on his knees. It took a losing fight, but he found a soulmate that enjoyed the same things he did. Plus, the first man to take his cherry, stretching his ass wide open. Like that night, he ground his own cock into the ottoman, as Bodie plowed his ass. An added benefit, was the added 'stab', whenever the train lurched. West figured Bodie might've worked out with the engineer to slowdown and speedup, for the added special effect.
Sheer torture racked James West's body, as Bodie sunk his fat, 10c into the agent's tight hole. His throat felt sore, from screaming out loud, but with his hands cuffed behind his back, James West had to settle for his gringing cock, up against the ottoman, in lieu of stroking his own barrel.
"Oooooh Jimbo'...ooooooh what a tight one. Man, never dreamed I'd be fucking your macho ass again...Ooooh this is too much!"
Not only did James West enjoy physical torture, but he wanted to enjoy the feeling of his own cock being handled, which wasn't the case. Then again, the adrenaline rush of the pain, plus the friction of Bodie's thick meat rubbing up against his prostrate, would most likely be enough to send him over the edge.
"Don't you come before me, Jimbo' or I'll have to give your sixshooter a whippin'!"
That was another prospect, which James West had encountered with Bodie, on the trail. The first time he got his ass parted wide open, he had come before Bodie and paid the price. He never had been subjected to such brutality as having his cock whipped. Thoughts came back to that night, as he kneeled in the dirt, totally naked, before the campfire. Bodie had pounded a wooden stake in the ground, about two feet in front of him. After his 'Sir' had thoroughly greased his soft barrel with his own gooey, ejected cum, he tied a leather lace around his cockhead, just under the mushroom flange. After stretching his cock out as long as possible, he worked areas of the body, to stimulate an erection. Jim found that much of his body could be be provoked, in pain and pleasure, causing him to regain his hard erection. However, the main objective, firming up his cock, having been reached, Bodie focused his strap on Jim's meat. The woods rang with a wild cry, at the fist strike of Bodie's lash against his hard cock.
Jim recalls Bodie challenging, "Not too much for a macho goverment agent like you, huh James West?"
As Bodie's cock continued to impale West's ass, he remembered back to his negative reply, which made him grind his cock into the ottoman even more decisively.
Bodie asked for the tenth time, "Your cock burning yet, West?"
After responding his tenth negative reply, Bodie had changed direction of his strap and whipped the red cock, looking as if toasted over a fire, straight down the barrel.
"Oooooooooohhh I love your tight ass, Jimbo'!"
The comment made Jim snap out of his reverie for a moment. He just thought of the pain associated with that last lash, number eleven, right up the barrel of his 8c, that really made him see stars. Straight forward, Bodie reached over in front of them and kissed Jim on the lips. He remembers Cheyenne Bodie saying something that he'll never forget. It wasn't romantic, to say the least, but he found it highly satisfying, as Bodie said to him, "You're good Jimboy... real good. I have a feeling you and I were mean't to be together!"
Likewise, I'm sure James West agreed!
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Continued.....
Copyright 2005 T. Luke McPhee
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The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness