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 upon persons in towns, cities, or governmental areas, in 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. This is fiction. Do not forget, in real life, to think about 'sexual safety matter'; got condom?
"Out In The Wild, Wild West" 22 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"Don't move!"
"What's the matter, Jim?"
"Something's not right."
"What do you mean, Jim? I feel alright."
"Johnny, I want you to go to the closet over there and stand inside."
"But, Jim..."
"Stand inside, then crouch down. To the right you will find a lever. Pull it and keep low. Don't get up."
"But, Jim..."
"Do it, Johnny... don't ask questions."
"Alright, Jim."
As Johnny went for the closet, he opened the door, looking back at Jim.
"I'll be fine. Do it."
Johnny sensed danger, as soon as Jim reached in his boot, standing near the bed, taking out a small derringer, that fit compactly into his hand.
"Do it, Johnny!"
"Be careful, Jim," Johnny said, walking into the closet. He crouched down. Feeling along the floor, he found the handle Jim talked about. Lifting it up, the door closed behind him. With the handle falling back into place, the whole closet seemed to move, yet he stayed low to the ground, as Jim instructed. He began to get dizzy, as the whole closet seemed to move downwards, yet he kept low. After about five minutes, it came to a stop. The door behind him opened. He then sensed it safe to stand. As he did, the door opened wider. Stepping from within, he shivered. Still totally naked, he walked out.
"Oh shit!" He shouted out, when the room automatically lit up, all on it's own.
Looking at the light, a strange look came over his face. `How did it do that?' Johnny questioned. Hearing another noise, the door he came out of, closed. After hearing a rumbling and sensing some minutes passing, it opened again.
"Jim!"
"Are you alright, Johnny?"
"Am I? Are you, Jim?" He quizzed, throwing his arms around Jim, hugging him tightly.
As Jim acknowledged him, Johnny became startled, seeing a figure move behind Jim.
"Don't be sacred, Johnny. Meet Marc Taylor. Marc, this is Johnny."
"Hmm... `very' happy to meet you, Johnny!"
Jim smiled along with Marc, eyeing both of the nude men up and down, but especially focusing his attention on the younger one.
Forgetting about his nakedness, Johnny asks, "So what is happening?"
"I'm afraid we have a problem on our hands. I'm going to have to leave you for awhile, Johnny."
"Can I come with you? You know, like my first case?"
"First case?" Marc quizzes Jim, still summing up Johnny's hot body.
However, Jim, declines Johnny's request, telling him, "You need to stay here and in this room. It's a bit nippy, but you'll find some clothes in that other closet."
"When are you coming back, Jim?"
"I'm not sure. We have a tip that two of our agents have been kidnapped and no telling how long it will tell to locate them and rescue them, that is if that is at all possible."
"I'm sorry, Jim," Johnny says, rubbing Jim's hairy forearms.
"Ahem!" Marc Taylor clears his throat. "Um, I think I'll wait up top for you, Jim."
Waiting till the `magic' door closes, Jim and Johnny watch it shut.
"What happens if you don't come back, Jim?"
"Oh, I'll be back," Jim certifies it. Pawing Johnny's locks out of his face, he adds, "if for any reason I'm delayed, you can return to the bedroom, by moving the lever in the opposite direction. However, wait for an hour."
"This is going to be hell for me, you know?"
"Is it?"
Jim sensed the same, as the two began being drawn into a kiss, agreeing to the wait as a mutual thing.
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The carriage came to a stop on the outskirts of the city. Halting at a rather large estate building, JJ and Braedon had been forced from the carriage and brought inside. Hustled down a flight of stairs, blindfolded, hands tied behind their backs, they had been pushed through an opened door. Hearing it clang shut behind them, they detected it being metal. Still not being able to see, two men, one on each side of them, hurried them across the room. Each then found their hands being untied. In place of ropes, they felt another means of bondage being fastened around each wrist, by which buckles had been threaded, to keep the bindings in place. Drawn above their heads, their hands locked together, their human captors let them loose. With the rattling of chains, JJ and Braedon found their arms being stretched above their heads.
"Get the knives!" A voice rang out, which put a fear into both men.
Tearing could be heard, as both sensed their jackets being cut from their bodies. Their shirts soon followed. They both sensed a chill in the room, shivering, as their bare-chested bodies hung from their arms. Soon they even lost their boots and socks, their bare feet touching the stone floor. Both struggled when they felt hands at their waist, their belts unfastened, their pants unzipped and peeled downwards. Talk filled the room as their boxer short were removed.
"Oooh, the master is going to have a good time with these two!"
"Bet they are going to be fun to train, too!"
After a bunch of laughing and hooting, the laughter dwindled, followed by the voices. Soon JJ and Braedon sensed they had been left alone.
"You alright, Brae?"
"Except for a dull ache in my crotch, yeah."
"Any idea where we are?"
"No. I can't even begin to guess who arranged this."
"I just hope our boys are okay."
"Yeah, you're right. I hope so too."
"Any chance of you breaking free, Brae?"
"I don't think so. Feels like leather around my wrists and I can't get any leverage to unhook them. How `bout you, JJ?"
"Same. What do you think that guy meant when he said we're going to be `fun to train'?"
"I don't know, JJ, but it doesn't sound too good. I just hope that somebody realizes we're missing and sends out the calvary."
Braedon keeps it to himself about the prospects of the knowledge of James West mentioning to him about the rumors of a white slave ring. He hopes this isn't the case with JJ and himself.
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"So, what kind of a lead do we have on Murphy and Sebastien?" Jim inquires of Marc Taylor, as he tucks his shirt into his pants.
"Well, from the two boys that saw the commotion in the alleyway, we tend to think the coach that kidnapped them, headed out by way of the south side of town."
Placing one sock on his foot, Jim hobbled over to the table, where Taylor had the map out on the table.
"We better get on it, Marc."
"I'm going to the bureau and round up some men, if you can get on that lead, right away."
"I'm on it now, if you can see yourself out, Marc."
"Oh no you don't, Jim. Last time you left that up to me, it took me three days to find my way out of this house!"
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Sean wrote on the top of his pad, `How do you like his muscled arms?' and then passed it to Cal.
Smiling, Cal wrote back, Very nice', then added, nice crotch, too'.
Agreeing, Sean drew a cucumber with a melon on each side of it. Cal wrote next to it, `I agree'.
Sean then jotted down. `How old?'
Returning the pad, Cal answered, `27? 28?'
Giving Cal a soured look, he shook his head, writing, '31 or 32!'
Cal shrugged his shoulders after reading it. Sean folded the note pad up, when his watch showed the class would be ending in five minutes.
"Mr. Murphy, may I see you a moment please?"
"Ah, I'll see you outside, Cal."
"You're not going to introduce me to your guest, Mr. Murphy?"
"Um, sure. Professor Webster, this is Cal McClintock."
"Hmm... nice to meet you young man."
"Good to meet you, sir."
Austin Webster instantly liked Cal, hearing him answer so courteously.
"Now, Mr. Murphy, may I see the notes you took today?"
"The notes, Professor Webster?"
"Yes. Regarding today's lecture that I noticed you and your friend paying close attention to?"
"Um, well, I'd like to but we will have to hurry, to be on time for my next class."
"Classes don't start for another half hour, Mr. Murphy."
"Oh. Well, I thought I could show Cal around and..."
"The notes, Mr. Murphy. I'm waiting?"
Sean and Cal both knew what the ultimatum had been, knew that Webster was on to them. Sean slowly worked the notepad from his briefcase.
Some people began filtering into the lecture hall, so Professor Webster advised them, "I will return this to you later. You can stop by my office this evening at five o'clock, Mr. Murphy."
"But..."
"Five o'clock, Mr. Murphy and make sure your friend is with you?"
The two looked grim, leaving the lecture hall.
"What do you think is going to happen, Sean?"
"Oh, I can tell you what's going to happen, Cal. The worst case scenario. Professor Webster is going to find our drawings, report it to my big brother and then I'm going to get holy hell from Braedon. But damn it could be even worse!"
"What do you mean worse?"
"If he gets really angry, he could take the notepad to the dean."
"Ugh, I see what you mean. You could get kicked out of the college."
Walking to the next class, they found a note on the door that class had been cancelled.
"That's good. I didn't feel like going anyway," Sean said.
"Sean, I'm awfully sorry about all this and I want you to know that I'm with you till... till whatever happens," Cal told him, his hand on Sean's shoulder, as he faced the downtrodden look on his face.
"Thanks, Cal. You're a good friend."
"Sean, I know I shouldn't be saying this, but I like you a real lot."
"Why shouldn't you be saying something like that, Cal. We're almost like brothers and if you and Brae get to know each other real good, we could be seeing each other all the time."
"Yeah, I thought about that."
"And?"
"Sean, I didn't know whether I should tell you this or not."
"Tell me what, Cal?"
"Tell me you won't get angry."
"I wouldn't. What is it, Cal?"
"Well, last night while you and JJ slept and after Brae fell asleep, after our sex, I woke up."
"Yeah, and?"
"I..."
"Go on, Cal. I told you I wasn't going to get angry at you."
"Sean, I rubbed your back with my hand."
"So?"
"And then your lower back."
"So?"
"Sean, I felt your ass with my hand."
"Mmmm... wish I was awake for that!"
"But then I..."
"You mean it gets better?"
"Sean, would you stop it. I'm trying to be serious here!"
"Alright, I'm serious. What else did you do?"
Sean decided to take a seat on a wooden bench, for fear that others could detect the growth in his crotch!
"Sean, I..."
"Will you spit out?"
"I leaned over and kissed your ass!"
Sean couldn't contain himself. He cackled away. Cal tried to keep a stiff upper lip, but Sean's laughter made him burst out, as well. That is until, from above, Sean's notepad dropped in their laps. Suddenly the two lost their sense of humor, as they stare at the dreaded notepad.
With it came Professor Webster's deep voice, "I will most definitely be seeing both of you boys in my office, at five o'clock sharp! Not a minute late, or there will be hell to pay. Mr. Murphy?"
Gulping, Sean replied, "You are in very serious trouble. If you do not report today at five o'clock, I can most guarantee your expelling from Washington University!"
With that, they watched Professor Webster walk away. Quickly, they paged through the notepad. The `notes' from today's lecture were missing!
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A draft could be felt, which JJ and Braedon sensed a door opening and closing.
"Lower them," came the order. "Bind their ankles and remove their blindfolds."
"Yes, sir."
JJ and Braedon could feel hands on their legs, as their bodies shifted, lowering about a foot, as chains rattled. They blinked their eyes rapidly, as the black blindfolds became loosened and removed.
"Very nice," They heard, as JJ could feel a flat hand race across his back, not seeing whom it belonged to.
For Braedon, he could see behind them. The prospects looked mighty grim, as he saw the tall man, dressed in black leather pants, black leather boots and toting a wide, black leather strap, feel JJ's back from side to side, up and down.
"Oh yes. This is going to make for nice sport!"
"What do you want?" Braedon asks.
Shifting his pacing behind JJ, the six foot, four inch, two hundred and twenty-five pound man removes his hand and stands behind Braedon, about four feet.
"First rule you will learn, is not to speak unless directed to."
"Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!" Braedon cried out, as the long, thick leather strap is hurled against his back, as he lurched forwards.
Well knowing to keep silent, JJ shook when he saw and heard Braedon cry out in pain. It hurt himself, to see the lash land on his back, delivering the painful stroke.
"Your insolence shall not go unpunished. Morgan, you will deliver the punishment of ten strokes on this slave's back."
"Yes, Sir."
For the first time, JJ looked upon the master, a Hispanic man, standing at six feet, four inches tall, dark hair covering both chest and stomach, with beefy pecs and a paunchy stomach. A big man, but solid.
"You may being, Mr. Morgan."
JJ knew there wouldn't be anything he could do for his friend, but to hang there by his arms and endure his suffering along with him.
"Akkkkkkkkkk!" Braedon called out.
The leather strap wrapped around his body, delivering a red welt that extended across the upper part of his back, around the side and marking a portion of Braedon's chest, just above his right nip.
"That the best you can do, Morgan?"
The comment made Morgan smile, knowing to really lay the leather on heavy. Braedon screamed out louder, arching his back, grabbing at the chains above him, as the second welt formed on his back. Much more redder than the first, it marked his stomach, dealt out lower on his torso. By the time the eighth lash had been received, Braedon's head hung down in front of him, his body wet with sweating. He breathed heavily.
"Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!"
With the ninth lash, he through his head back, screaming at the top of his lungs. For the tenth and last lash, Morgan really made this one count. Standing back, he took a running leap, sending the brunt of the force across Braedon's upper back. It whipped quickly around the front, striking dead center to his right nip.
"Bravo, Morgan! Nice finish!"
"Thank you Mr. Gonzalez, sir."
Pedro Gonzalez continued the single man applause, as Morgan came forward to surrender the sweat-laden strap to him.
"I need to be going out this evening. I most likely will not return till the early morning hours. I would like each of these men whipped on the hour, beginning with this one," he holds the sweaty strap to JJ's chest.
"How many sir?"
"Ten lashes."
"My pleasure, sir."
"If you tire, turn the duty over to one of the other men."
"Oh, I wouldn't tire, sir," Morgan says, with a glint in his eye and a smile on his face.
"I thought not, Morgan."
"Hmm..."
"Yes, sir?"
Before Pedro takes his leave, he thinks a minute. Then he paces around JJ's body and stands at his back. JJ braces himself for the inevitable. True to his expectation, he screams out, as the wide strap whirs through the air and comes thrashing against his upper back.
"Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!" He screams out loudly, as his body arches from the gut-wrenching lash of pain.
"Fucking bastard!" Braedon cries out at Pedro.
Pedro smiles, delivering the other nine lashes to JJ. When complete, he hands the strap to Morgan, saying, "This one ten," pertaining to JJ. For Braedon, he sentences, "Twenty-five."
"Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!" Braedon cries out.
To reinforce the sentence, Pedro throws the strap against Braedon's chest.
"Across the front, sir?"
"No, the back. Save his chest for me!"
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Continued....
Copyright 2005 T. Luke McPhee This story may not be sold or made part of any collection without prior written permission.