The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblance to real people is entirely coincidental in nature. It 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. Check with your local laws regarding such. Sexual safety matters. This is fiction. Use protection in real life. `Got condom?'
"Out In The Wild, Wild West" 31 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"Rosario, are you awake? Rosario?"
"I'm here."
"I'm sorry I got us into this."
"Got us into this? Peter, I was already doomed to be a prisoner in this torturous hellhole. You put your life in danger for me and... and... Peter, thanks."
"I didn't mind doing it, Rosario."
After a brief pause, the talk resumes.
"Rosario, if we ever get out of this, I... I want... I want us to be together."
"I'd like that, Peter. You know what?"
"What Rosario?"
"I was thinking the same thing. I never met any guy that cared about me the way you care about me."
"Same for me, Rosario. How did you ever get caught up in this anyway?"
"Dumb luck or most likely just my own stupidity."
One thing Peter could tell is that Rosario wasn't your ordinary run-of-the-muck man.
"I was applying for a position, teaching at the university."
"I thought so."
"How did you know that I..."
"No, I didn't know about that, what I'm talking about is that I figured you had intelligence."
"And you don't strike me as an idiot, Peter."
"My family drove me away."
"You're family? How does that go, Peter?"
"Ever hear of Manning Shipping?"
"Yes. There's a fleet in the harbor right now. Wait! Your last name is Manning, isn't it?"
"Uh-huh. My father owns the company."
"Then why aren't you working for him, Peter?"
"I didn't want to go into business with him. In fact I didn't want any part of the shipping business. He was furious when I told him that I wanted to become an artist. I wanted to paint. He said I was wasting my life. So I left home. Um, how do you get to this God-forsaken place, Rosario?"
"I found out I was hired for the position of lecturer at the university."
"What field?"
"English. While out celebrating, I met up with some men. They drugged my drink and here I am."
"And that was two weeks ago?"
"Yeah. If I ever get out of here, most likely that position will be gone."
"Rosario, let's not think about that position at the university. When we get out of here, we'll have each other and that's a start."
"No, if we get out of here alive, will be a start, Peter!"
"Shh! Somebody's coming."
"I think it's important that they don't know we have these feelings for each other, Peter."
"You're right. We have to make sure we don't show it."
"That's going to be as tough as hell."
The twenty-five and twenty-six year olds could sense the hell they were about to be put through, as Hans, Voltaire and Dr. Loveless strolled into the main room of the underground torture chamber.
"Dr. Loveless, why don't you show us some of your skill?" Voltaire offered.
"By all means, Voltaire. It will be a complete pleasure," Loveless replied, rubbing his hands together, as if to keep warm.
In the Loveless manner, that flicker of excitement showered his whole being. Right away, the guards, put at his disposal, began to unfasten the men's legs. Allowing their legs to swing together, Voltaire, Hans and Loveless laughed as their thighs, slapping together, caused their balls some light pain. After releasing Rosario and Peter from their arms bondage, Loveless had the guards refasten the two tied between two posts, opposite, facing each other, about seven feet apart. They groaned in pain, as to their left and right wrists, leather cuffs, with metal hooks attached, bound tautly. Their legs hung straight down, remaining unbound.
"I call this `audience participation'," Dr. Loveless informed Voltaire and Hans.
He instructed Voltaire to stand behind Rosario and Hans behind Peter. Next, Dr. Loveless went to his own oversized suitcase. He pulled out a long leather lace, several feet in length. Voltaire and Hans watched, as the mad doctor tied one end around Peter's balls, not caring if the tightening rein cinched the skin. In fact when Peter yelled in pain, throwing his head back, Loveless giggled.
"Here," Loveless yelled to Voltaire, tossing him the opposite end of the leather cord. "Tie this to his balls."
Between Rosario and Peter, the long leather cord sagged.
"So? What's your point Loveless?"
"Dr. Loveless," Loveless corrected Voltaire for the umpteenth time.
No words of explanation were needed, as Dr. Loveless picked up a wooden pole. Looping the middle of the lace over and around it, he created a turning mechanism which would catch up the lace, binding it around the pole with each successive turn. A guard on each side of the pole, kept it from unraveling the cord. As each guard handed a pole to the other, turning it, snagging the leather cord, it took up the slack. At first Rosario and Peter looked at each other, then as they vowed, showed no interest in the other. They looked down, as the slackened leather bind became a shorter distance between their balls.
"Oh, I see," Hans said, watching the leather cord, now about two feet from the floor, began to tug at their victims balls.
Soon the tension began to build to the uncomfortable stage. Rosario and Peter both began to wince.
"Nice, Dr. Loveless. Very nice!"
"I knew you would enjoy this, Voltaire, but there's more."
"Get on with it!"
The three sadists began to lust for more pain from the two men in their bondage. A few more turns and their balls began stretching away from their bodies, on a collision course towards each other. Both men screamed from the pain of their hairy ball sacs stretched, separated immensely from their cocks. But the grand scheme of the torture was yet to unfold.
"Now, take hold of your victim's ankles," Dr. Loveless instructed Voltaire and Hans.
Following Hans, Voltaire stepped in between Rosario's legs, lifting the captive's ankles up so that they remained to his own sides.
"Now gentlemen, at will, take some steps backwards."
As instructed, Voltaire and Hans each took two steps backwards, taking the feet of their victims with them. The turning, the catching of the lace, winding around the pole had ceased, but a new torture began tormenting the two men. As their legs pulled behind their bodies, it began to stretch their balls even further away from their bodies.
Hans yells out, laughing, "Tug'o'war!"
"Yes!" Voltaire agrees, a cheery disposition on his face, enjoying the spectacle of the men screaming in agony with each additional step.
"Guard!" Voltaire calls out.
"Yes, sir?"
"Take over for me... no, better yet, attach cuffs to this man's ankles and tie them to the winch on the wall."
"Yes, sir."
"A nice addition to the torture, Voltaire," Dr. Loveless commended the fiend.
In no time, Voltaire and Hans stood with Dr. Loveless, enjoying the side view of watching the two set of ballsacs stretched to perfection. The pole in the middle, now wedged into place required no attention.
"Now that's what I call a work of art!" Hans informed the two.
As Hans looked upon the ball stretching system, Dr. Loveless took in his own view. Looking up at the six foot three inch tall dutch man, he gazed at the perky nips adorning the dutchman's chest.
"Excuse me, Voltaire. A word with you please?"
The two stepped over to the side, out of earshot of Hans.
"Yes, Dr. Loveless?"
Whatever transpired, whether a sum of money changing hands or other promises, the two conspirators watched as four guards approached Hans. With complete surprise, the four guards descended on Hans. Going for his legs, they swept him off his feet, two taking on his arms. There wasn't even time for the Dutchman to think, as they carted him over to a long table. Hans couldn't do anything but thrash about, as his ankles and wrists became fastened rapidly.
"What the fuck is this? I demand an explanation Voltaire!"
Placing his hand on Hans' smooth chest, he ran it over his pecs, the palm rubbing over each of Hans' nips.
"Yes, Dr. Loveless, I do believe that these could be a lot of fun!"
After the devious laughter, Voltaire stepped back, letting Dr. Loveless climb up on a stepstool. In his hand was a metal chain. At each end, a nasty, sharp clamp was fastened.
"No... noooo... please... I can't take pain...nooo!" Hans begged.
Breathing heavy, chest heaving to and fro, sweating, he watched as Dr. Loveless opened the sharp-toothed clamp. With a bright, toothy smile on his face, the evil doctor gathered the Dutchman's nipmeat in it.
"Why don't you do the other nip, Voltaire and we'll let go together?"
Voltaire didn't need begging to get him to clamp Hans' other nip. In a matter of less than a minute, Hans was arching his back as he screamed out in pain, his nips clamped with the sharp alligator clamps.
"Excellent! Excellent!" Voltaire shouted out.
It's then that Voltaire got a real shocker. Dr. Loveless, his pants open, had his cock out, stroking it. `Shit, he's big!'
Not wanting to disturb his stroking action, Loveless ordered one of the guards to lower the chain above Hans' chest.
"Voltaire, would you handle that for me?"
At first Voltaire didn't get it, but then made the connection of placing the middle of the chain on the hook, attached to the chain extended from the ceiling.
"Haul them up!' Loveless gave the order.
Hand over hand, the guard pulled on the end of the chain, moving it through a set of pulleys. Hans screamed like hell as his nips stretched away from his pecs, resembling steep mountains.
"Higher!" Dr. Loveless called out.
Turning the winch, the guard kept stretching Hans' nips. For all it was worth, Hans tried to throw his chest out, to alleviate the stretching of his nips. However, soon it was beyond that. With the energy fading, Hans couldn't help but relax his pectorals, dropping his back onto the table. He became his worst enemy, as it stretched his nips even more. Close to passing out, Dr. Loveless finally shot his pent up load. Right out, onto Han's chest the streams of cum shot. Voltaire was thoroughly amazed at the thick ropes of cum coated the Dutchman's chest. He soon followed, pointing his cock towards the same direction.
"By tomorrow they should be at a nice length."
"You plan on leaving his nips stretching all night?"
"Even more so. Guard?"
"Yes, Dr. Loveless?"
"On the hour I want the winch tightened by two chain links."
"Yes, sir."
Yawning, Dr. Loveless reported his energy as being `spent'. The two left the dungeon.
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Continued....
Copyright 2006 T. Luke McPhee This story may not be sold or made part of any collection without prior written permission.