Road Trip

By T. Chase McPhee

Published on Nov 22, 2006

Gay

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, in towns, cities, nor governmental areas, which the story is stages. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offences 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.

ROAD TRIP: electro-hostage wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"Ugggggh! Akkkkkkkkkkkk! Shiiiiiiiiiiiit!"

The pain quite intense, as Dave and Rich, the abductor's force their captive up the stairway. Nicholas, absorbing the electro-shocks, emitted from the handheld transformer, delivered to his two sacs, wired with clamps, tried overlooking his own pain, with Randy clear as a TV screen, on his mind. All he could think of is his blond lover, hanging there by one arm, held in place by a leather cuff around his wrist, chain keeping his body in limbo, head of shaggy blonde hair falling in front of his face, as his chin stay glued to the twenty year old's chest. While Nicholas' body flinched with each touch of the tens unit's button, he wished Randy had shown some sort of recognition of being in touch with the world.

Flinging open the door, one of the cops, Vinnie shouted out, "Throw down your weapons."

Neither police officer knew what to think, when Nicholas' bound, naked body appeared, his wrists tightly secured behind his back, seeing two metallic wires, attached to his ball sacs in some fashion, the wires running to another man's hand, hooked to a small, square control unit.

"On the contrary, officers, why don't we try it the other way around!"

Still their attention on Nicholas, Rich's voice seemed not to phase the cops.As Rich spelled out the ultimatum, not gaining any response, he depressed the small red button on the tens unit.

"Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!" Nicholas screamed out.

His body arching, caused his cock and balls to swing about.

"More? Or are you going to lay down your weapons?"

"Do what he says," the other officer, Jake, yelled to Vinnie.

"Are you sure?"

"Do we have a choice?"

"We could rush them maybe."

"But we don't know what other weapons they have, other than the electro-thing wired to his balls."

"Yeah. Right."

"Okay," Jake yells, "we're putting our guns down."

More interested in his lover, than himself, Nicholas can see this is getting him nowhere closer to helping Randy, his main concern. His one idea of freedom, as he saw it would be to break his hold. The odds would be getting additional shocks and the possibility of the clamps tearing off his balls. Right now, his emotions kicking in, gave him the inspiration needed to follow through on his plan.

"Out of the hallway," Rich ordered the two police officers, "and if anymore of you," meaning the men in blue, "are in the store, tell them to clear the fuck out."

Backing out, Vinnie spotted one of the culprits, the one restraining the victims arms behind him, bend to the side, reaching down to pick up the gun. It then became obvious to him the only weapon they possessed is their human shield.

Whispering to Jake, literally out of the corner of his mouth, he says, "If he gets hold of your gun, this is going to turn ugly."

"Yeah. I hear ya, but what are we going to do, Vinnie?"

"We've gotta take the chance and rush them."

Nicholas decides to put his plan into play, right about the same time Vinnie runs forwards.

"Fuck!" Rich yells out.

His thumb immediately hits the tens unit button, sending volts through the two wires.

"Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk! Akkkkkkkkkkkkk...Akkkkkkkkkkkk!" Nicholas shouts out, as he steps forward, pulling away from Dave.

Unfortunately, with minds out of sync, Nicholas' body gets in the way of Vinnie's foot, trying to kick the gun away from Dave's hand.

"Ugggggggggggh!" Nicholas yells out.

After caving in, falling to his knees, the cop's foot had connected with Nicholas' stomach.

"Oh shit!" Vinnie yells out.

The fortunate thing, Jake disregarded the two, Vinnie and Nicholas, letting his feelings for the captive go into override, jumping Rich, at the same time using his keen efforts, derived from his police academy training, to put Dave out of commission. In the tight hallway, Dave reacts unfavorable to Jake's hard punch to the jaw, as his body flings against Rich's. Stretching the wires, they exit the small black tens unit box. Waking up from the shock of injuring the stripped victim, Vinnie comes into play, reaching behind his back for the cuffs, as he approaches Dave.

"Don't even think about it!"

Cautioning Dave, Vinnie puts him into acute pain, as he steps on the outlaw's wrist, pinning it to the linoleum.

"You move and I'll break it!"

Vinnie, standing there, leaning with his full hundred and eighty-four pounds of muscle, pinioned against Dave's wrist, leaves little comfort. With agility, he reaches down, pins Dave's left arm against his back and delivers the first cuff, snagging it around his wrist.

"Still having fun, Jake?"

"With no help from you!"

As Vinnie allows Dave's right arm to free the prison of his boot, he forcibly gathers it behind his back, meeting the left wrist, cuffing them together.

"Oh shit! I almost forgot about you," Vinnie addresses Nicholas.

Lying face down, one arm clutching his stomach, the other holding his balls, still wired, Nicholas breathes heavy. In between he manages to convey some words.

"Never mind... me....downstairs... you gotta get to him...."

"There's more?"

"Here," Jake says to Vinnie.

"About time you got the cuffs on him!"

Turning Dave over to Vinnie, all nice and neatly cuffed, delivers his bound captive.

"I'll check out the basement," Jake replies, picking up his gun.

"You won't... need that... there's only two of them.... but...."

"Hold on there," Jake says, approaching Nicholas, trying to get to his feet, held down by his aching gut, "you might have a broken rib."

"Doesn't... uggggh... matter...Randy...."

"Alright, I'm on it, but you stay put."

Nicholas couldn't help himself, so he had to leave the police officer in charge of checking out the basement.

Two minutes later, Nicholas hears Jake shout, "Oh fuckin' shit!"

Nicholas listens, as Jake summons an ambulance, touching the two-way communicator on his shoulder. Meanwhile, Vinnie returns to the scene of the crime, two other officers in tow.

"Damn! This is all my fault!"

Vinnie realizes, more than the ball torture, the reason Nicholas stays down, the unfortunate accident involving the punt to the victims stomach.

"Don't move, cowboy. I'll called for an ambulance. Shit! I'm awfully sorry I did this to you."

"I'm.... I'm okay..."

"Here. Lie down on the floor. Move as little as possible. I.... I might have... have hurt you bad... oh geez..."

Toughened up for the position of a police officer, as what happened with Vinnie, sometimes what we allow ourselves to do, by sheer accident, we tend to treat it as our own fault.

"It... was....an accident...."

Still breathing heavily, Nicholas is flat out on his back.

One of the other officers questions, "What's those wires? Those clamps on his... his balls?"

"A cruel punishment." Then, talking to Nicholas, Vinnie says, "I'm going to take the clamps off. Your balls look mighty red."

"Maybe you should wait for the EMT, Vinnie?"

"I suppose," Vinnie replies, staring at the hand on his forearm.

As Vinnie kneels there, right next to Nicholas' side, he takes his own handkerchief out, blots the twenty-six year olds forehead, removing sweat as fluid as beaded water.

"Randy... what about Randy? I've gotta get to him..."

"I think he's losing it," Vinnie says.

First looking up at the two officers, then down to Nicholas, Vinnie takes his sweat-soaked linen, running it over the black-haired chest. By now, Nicholas' breathing is beginning to fade, returning to a normal strain of control. Still, Vinnie laments, his eyes following the dark, defined trail down the taut abs, stopping to view the bruises, left behind as a result of the tip of his boot connecting with Nicholas' abs.

"I'm so, so sorry, for what I did to you," he says to Nicholas, as if a one-on-one conversation.

"Here's the EMT's," the silent officer of the trio responds, adding, "Will you get a grip, Vinnie?"

Entering, one of them gasps, "Nick Palmieri?"

"You know him?"

At the same moment, Nicholas looks up, above his head, stares up the EMT's legs, to his torso, then his shirt, followed by eyes connecting with facial features.

Wincing, leaning on one elbow, overriding Vinnie's plea to lay still, Nicholas pleads, "Ya gotta help Randy, Gunnar."

"You got it, Nick!"

"Heeeey," Vinnie calls after the tall norseman, "what about this guy?"

Totally ignoring the cop, Gunnar heads through the doorway to the basement. A second EMT enters the hallway.

"Randy needs help more than I do," Nicholas informs Vinnie, his hand tightly grasping the front of the patrolman's shirt.

"Yeah," Vinnie says, gazing at his own midsection, "sure. No problem. Whatever you say."

The hand still in place, Vinnie's endorphins kick in. Feelings such as remorse for tucking Nicholas' gut in with his foot, begin to subside. A tingly feeling gathers under the zipper of his pants. Gunnar's voice, booming from the basement, interrupts his reverie.

"Hey Jorge, get your ass down here!"

"I gotta go. You okay, hombre?" Jorge says to Nicholas.

Waving his hand, Nicholas replied, "I'm okay. Go help Randy. He needs is more than me."

Packing up the little he had taken out, Jorge hightails it down the stairs.

"Kinda hot, isn't he?" Vinnie said very softly, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Yeah," Nicholas reponded, looking up, above his head, at the two officers near the entrance of the corridor.

"I'm really sorry, Nick, that I KO-ed your abs."

Even in the face of calamity, there was a dim hope for humor.

"You owe me one hot fucking, Vinnie."

"Shhhhh, they'll hear you, Nick."

"Yeah, wouldn't it be a shame if one of the town's most highly decorated police officer's was found out to be gay?"

"Nick, please!"

Suddenly a loud sigh of pain is heard coming from the downstairs.

"Randy?" Nicholas calls out.

Trying to sit up, failing miserable at what would a simple task, a simple crunch, for Nicholas, he falls back down to the floor.

"Oh man, I fuckin' did you in good."

Vinnie finds himself being too free with Nicholas, moving the dark hair from out of his eyes. Towards his inward self, he reflects, `I should have taken you when the getting was good!' Inwardly, his heart was bleeding the pain, along with his former lover.

%

"Gregor, you've got to get us in there."

"Impossible Anthony. This is a police scene. I would if I could, but...."

Standing there with him, his arm wound around Anthony's bicep, Roberto tried to calm his lover.

"We should wait til they bring them out, Anthony, don't you think?"

Onery, Anthony tells him, "Why?"

It's then, as Roberto sinks back, saying, "I'm sorry," Anthony realizes the temperment of his voice.

"No, Roberto. I am. Yeah, you're right. We can wait."

Roberto's hand strays from position, rubbing Anthony's back, from side to side, up to his opposite shoulder.

"I'm real sorry about all this, Anthony."

"I know you are and I want to apologize for getting on you. I'm so anxious to hear some good news."

"I know you are."

Gregor, walking back the thirty feet or so, from the front of the neighborhood market, heads towards the small enclave of Anthony, Roberto, Sep, Ethan and the sports frats.

"Well, they're alive."

"Thank God!" Anthony says.

At this moment, as joyful as the news can be, Anthony clutches Roberto, hugging him tightly.

Sep asks, "Alive, but..."

Stopping short of his inquiry, Sep draws back from broadening the spectrum of their injuries. After all, he figures, if Nicholas and Randy were fit and fine, they would be out of the building by now.

A new worry encompasses Anthony, as he catches on, prodding, "Are they hurt, Gregor?"

Not commenting, Gregor showed them there was more to this, than merely being alive.

"Oh shit!" Anthony called out.

Looking up, his eyes constant on the doorway into the supermarket, he spotted additional EMT personnel wheel two guernies through the opening. Releasing himself, forcefully from Roberto's clutches, pushing past Gregor, he totally ignored the yellow tape, passing it above his head.

"Whooooa whoa whoa! Somebody stop that guy!"

By the time Gregor realized it, Anthony had approached the supermarket, entering. On his tails, the blond cop and a handful of detectives, other police officials, trailed him. Upon seeing his trepassing known, Anthony acted as a football player, trying to dodge players, heading for the goaline.

"You're in big trouble, mister!"

Passing through the pet section, he was confronted by a burley detective.

"You're gonna be in some fuckin' bigger trouble if you don't get your fuckin' hand offa me!"

"Oh yeah? Well... wait a minute.... aren't you the wrestling team coach at Applegate?"

"Right and if you don't unhand me, I'm going to show you some moves you'll be sorry to know!"

Easing up on his tension, the detective gave Anthony a wry smile.

"Hmmm... yeah okay. C'mon."

Anthony was proud of himself, but then swallowed his pride when he saw Nicholas on the guerny, covered three-quarters of the way to his neck.

"Oh fuck! What happened to you Nicholas? Nicholas?"

"He's been sedated. He'll be out of it for awhile."

"What about Randy? Have you found him?"

The answer to Anthony's quest became known, with the abbreviated version of a full-sized guerny, the padded `board' being carefully positioned to fit through the tight squeeze of the door frame.

"Shit! What... what the hell happened here?"

Anthony hadn't even detected the hand on his shoulder, a tender emotion, in retrospect to the rough dealings in the cat and doggie aisle.

"He's been through hell, but he's a strong kid."

Not tearing his eyes from Randy, being wheeled down the corridor, Anthony shook his head.

"What kind of animals would do this to a kid?"

Compared to Anthony's age, twenty-seven, a twenty year old was considered almost a teenager, especially knowing, in conversation, it's come up where Randy had just experienced a birthday.

"Don't worry, coach," the detective referred to Anthony, "they'll get what's coming to them, I can assure you."

"His chest," Anthony looked upon Randy, his white skin showing the deep red marks laid down across his pecs, some crossing his abs.

Rather than explain anything more, the detective put his arm around Anthony's back, ushering him out of the hallway.

"They're still working on him. I think it better we give them their space, coach?"

"Yeah... right," Anthony responded.

Making it clear, Anthony purposefully shunned the detectives `caring' arm to his back.

"How... how did all this come about?"

"We're not sure. The EMT's have been working on both of them. However, we got a short confession out of the store manager..."

"He's in on this?"

"Right. As we understand it, they've had a racket, taking out men that don't belong in the area."

"Don't belong?"

"Strangers. Unwary motorists. We questioned such an incident last month. A college frat. If not for his roommate, we wouldn't have known the kid suffered the same situation as Randy here."

"The thrashing on his chest."

"That and more."

"Oh no. Well, why didn't he kid come forward himself?"

"Seems like, after they, the culprits, have their fun, they make up a little movie, duping the victims into believing they've instigated private sexual affairs."

"Who's the boy, if I may ask?"

"I can't say, but I can guaratee you he no longer attends Applegate."

"No?"

Shaking his head, the detective replies, "The whole incident shook the kid up so, he quit and returned home."

"What a shame."

"Yeah. Oh, by the way," the detective grunted out a slight laugh, "I neglected to introduce myself. Wayne Tucker," he extended his hand to Anthony, "chief investigator and I hope I didn't give you too tough a time, back there," he keyed in the direction of the bird seed aisle.

Accepting the palm in his, Anthony tried to maintain a cordial attitude, but found it nearly impossible, regarding the state of his longterm friend and Randy.

"Um, yeah," Anthony had to force out.

"I'll be personally following up on the details of the case. Here's my card if you need any updates."

"I'd be interested in knowing everything."

"Maybe we can get together and discuss it. Over dinner, perhaps?"

Knowing right well where this was going, Anthony put a stop to it.

"I don't think it a possibility, detective."

Coolly, Anthony deposited Tucker's card in the upper jacket pocket, then turned and walked away. He knew of other means to secure information. Exiting the building, he immediately sought the direction in which they had wheeled Nicholas' body, snuggly attached to the guerny.

"They took him away already, Anthony."

Crossing back, under the yellow tape, Roberto filled him in.

"I want to make sure everything possible is done for him."

Again, second time in a matter of days, Roberto senses the deep love existing between the two.

"And Randy?" Roberto questions.

"The same. Dammit! How could something like this happen?"

Overhearing, Detective Tucker replies, "Whenever you need information, I'm available!"

Adding a grin, the tall chub walks away.

"I think I'm going to learn to hate that man," Anthony tells Roberto.

"Why, Anthony?"

"Just something about him that turns my stomach."

After bringing out Randy, Anthony, Roberto and the gang headed off towards the hospital.

"Randy sure looks bad, doesn't he Anthony?"

Hopping in the front seat of Anthony's 4x4, Roberto immediately questions his lover.

"Yeah."

However, Roberto knows which guy is more on Anthony's mind.

%

2B continued...

Copyright 2006 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection without prior written permission, by the author.

Next: Chapter 15: Second Rescue


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