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.
Bar Tab Buy-out! 16 wriTten by Travis Chase McPhee
%
"You sure've got a way with balls, Rich!" Mike Turk patted the twenty-five year old on the back, allowing his hand to stay there.
Then, when Rich went back to smacking Gregg Traskin's balls with the end of a leather strap, Mike took the opportunity to allow his hand to slide down Rich's back and over the left ass cheek.
Thinking he wasn't noticing, how wrong Turk could be, when Rich halts the whipping action and 'says' in a derogatory manner, "Hey, ya wanna watch the hands?" He scooted his ass away from Mike.
"No harm intended!" Mike exclaimed. Of course, thoughts were crowding his mind of what size hole lay in the crevice!
"Just the same, don't go getting any ideas!" He laughed, Rich adding to his own humor, bringing the leather strap across Gregg's red nads, with fierce abandon, like he didn't give a damn how loud Gregg voiced his opinion on how much it hurt. "Day-mn, will ya fuckin' look at that!"
"What?" Mike quizzes Rich, looking over his shoulder.
"The stripe across his balls?" Rich points out, then laughs his ass off at the differentiation of colors, Gregg's tanned-looking balls and the bright red welt.
Faking a laugh, Mike was half-entertained by what Rich had done. His real focus was in looking down the front of Rich's bod, seeing the perky little nips nestled in a light covering of chest hair and how hot it would be to make his nips stand out from his chest. Of course, leaning up against his back, for now he kept his cock from touching, but longed to have it probing the twenty-five year old's ass!
The whole time this is going on, Marco has been lying on his side on one of the padded bondage tables, head propped up on his elbow, his other hand engaged in softly stroking himself, entertaining himself much like a guy lying on a sofa, watching a gay porn DVD.
%
Meanwhile, as Mike and Rich were having their fun with Gregg, on the sidelines, Pete and Tim Brecker, bouncer at the Powderkeg, had sidetracked off to one of the smaller rooms.
When they had first entered the basement dungeon, Rich made a beeline for Gregg, bound eaglespread, lying faced down and this wooden 'piece' across his ass, which had held in bondage Gregg's balls for the taking. As for Pete, he glanced around the perimeter of the room till his eyes met with the beefy-bear bouncer.
For the past fifteen minutes, Tim has been showing Pete the ins and outs of how just about every gadget in the room worked and its purpose.
"Just for curiosity's sake, Tim?"
"Yeah?" Tim acknowledges, as they stand over the bondage table which can be converted into a light-tensioned rack.
"When a guy's lying down on this, stretched out, can he at all move around?"
When Mike Turk played in the dungeon, he started out wearing his leather gear, but slowly a piece came off until he worked on a guy with nothing on except his boots. As for Tim, it being a 'private party', he lost his clothes as soon as 'the heat' got turned up. Trying to figure Pete out, still in his street clothes, Tim suggests, "Why don't you get out of those duds, slap your ass down on the table," Tim slaps his hand on the cushioned leather, "I'll truss you up in the leather cuffs and you can see for yourself!"
Going to it, taking his shirt off over his head, which showed his partial acceptance, Pete says, "The clothes part? Fine. I can handle it, but I was thinking more like having some fun, playing with you?"
Tim rolled his tongue around in his cheek, deciding, as he watched Pete get out of the rest of his clothes. For the past six years he's been bouncer at the Powderkeg and all that time he's never taken any shit from any guy. Weekly, there's been three or four or more guys he's met in the jon making him a target for his cock, pinned to the wall or doubled over the sink. On his own time he's tested out the dungeon equipment, with guys of all ages, from eighteen to some older dude, who paid Tim to roleplay cop and robber, then some rough sex. There was even a tip in it, which made it more than worthwhile. He thought, 'Too bad he was from out of town!'
But then, Tim's consciousness returned, as Pete gave him the sneaky ultimatim, "You can tell me what to do while you're lying on the table, if you want?"
'Sneaky, okay', Tim thought as he stood there at the side of the table. Way before Pete's power of suggestion over him, while Pete was stripping down, the lithe, young, mid-20's bod began to have an affect on him. In half-weakened state, the self-proclaimed top was beginning to topple!
%
"So, what'll it be Tony?" Scott says, perusing Marco's private dungeon, "Whips? Chains? How about this?" Scott whimsically tosses up in the air a medium size buttplug and catches it.
Taking it from Scott's hand, Tony replies, "You can start here and work your way up!"
"You're joking, Tony! This thing," he retrieves the buttplug from Tony's hand, "is like 'hu-u-uge!"
"I can think of something huge-er!" Tony replies, a wide grin on his face as he handles Scott's wet meat.
Closing in on Tony, whom Scott found rather sexy, he says, "For your information, 'this'," he puts his hand over Tony's hand, which is clutching his semi-hard shaft, "is 'not' a dungeon toy!"
Taking back the medium buttplug, Tony says, "Then I suppose 'this' will have to do!"
Getting the point across, which Scott was trying to inforce, his wanting to take this scene to the bedroom, he steals back the buttplug and runs the tip over Tony's lips, remarking, "You would choose plastic over something real, Tony?"
Trying to draw up a compromise, Tony says, "I saw a nifty little stock setup over in the corner, where you can adjust the yolk to fit a guy's mouth at waist-height?"
Avoiding some of the heavy duty dungeon activity, Scott saw where this would at least keep him from having to pursue it, so followed Tony's lead, "Really? How would that go?"
Tony smiled, thinking it a nice gesture of Scott giving 'halfway' in. Placing the buttplug back on the gadget table, amongst the other ass tools, sounds and other fun stuff, he says, "I guess we won't be needing this!"
Probably it was Tony still partially wet from the pool, but Scott noticed something particularly 'appetizing', from a top-man's perspective, the hairy ass crevice!
When Tony arrived at the near corner of the room, he suddenly turned around, which threw Scott a little off kilter. Smiling, Tony asks, "Like what you see?"
Wise to Tony, Scott replies, "More importantly, I'll let you know when I know how it feels." And to change subject, "So. How does this gadget work?"
"Quite versatile actually," Tony demonstrates the wooden stock. "You can have it all the way at the top and depending on the guy's height, it can be adjusted if you want to place the victim's head and arms through the top of the top piece. Or, you can fasten me so my head and wrists are through the front."
Not quite getting it, Scott asks, "And what would be the difference?"
"I thought it might be obvious, Scott." Tony holds his clenched fists up, even with both sides of his head and explains, "Like this I wouldn't be able to use my mouth on your bod, unless you were coming at me from overhead. Through the front of the block of wood," Tony bends, "my mouth is readily accessible," and he mellows out, "for your 'sucking' needs!"
"Hmm, I like that part!" Not sure of the other purpose, arms and head up, "And for what purposes would the other positioning be for?" This time Scott gestures with his fists aside his head.
"Oh, any number of hot things. With my arms stretched out overhead, you can also fasten my ankles to cuffs at the sides of the pillars. This will stretch my legs wide. In this position it allows my cock and balls to hang free of my thighs. From there you can do a number of things, either put a parachute on my balls and hang weights, whip my balls," and personally, "do anything you like to my balls."
In general, Scott relinquishes to, "I think we'll stick with the sucking and fucking!" It's only after he's said it, the 'fucking' part, he's not sure if 'this' will come to 'that', so amends, "at least the sucking."
Standing there in a casual pose, leaning against the side of the versatile stock furniture, Tony says, "It's a real shame."
"What is?"
"You."
"What about me?" Scott asks.
"You've got it all," Tony describes scanning Scott's bod, "muscular build, beautiful hair pattern, handsome, not to mention a nice piece of equipment..." His standing there, not saying a word prompts Tony, "I think if you dressed yourself up in leather, you could really look like a hot top-master, but I don't think you can act the part, Scott. No offense."
Getting closer to Tony, Scott places his hands on Tony's sides and runs them down to his forearms as he says, "Y'know, in the past few days I've learned to like and have lost two men whom I really thought I could learn to really like, all because I couldn't live up to their expectations."
"Sorry," Tony says.
"Y'know, you might not be as stealth-looking as I've always dreamed I've find in a guy," Scott's hands rise up Tony's hairy arms, "but I find an attraction to you Tony."
"Are you meaning other than my ass?" As Tony has found the case a few minutes ago.
His hands reaching Tony's upper arms, Scott moves closer to accomodate them reaching behind Tony's back. "I find there's more to a man than whether he's a tight fuck, Tony. I mean, just ten minutes in the pool with you and I've found out you like scuba diving?"
"I like hiking too?"
Smiling, Scott says, "I like a lot of outdoorsy things too, but Tony... let's not kid ourselves. I know you have 'special' needs and maybe I'm interested in 'keeping' you and not 'losing' you so quickly." He drops his hands and back up.
"What are you saying, Scott?"
One of the things Scott immediately thought of, he would much rather save the 'sexual play' for the bedroom! Walking over to the front of the stocks, Scott asks, "What were you saying about what I can do to your balls?"
"Really?" Tony showed surprise, but excitement.
"Sure. I'm willing to try anything.... well, most things, once. What's this parachute stuff all about?"
"Cool!" Tony says, his balls churning away as well as his mind as he seeks out a parachute and other fun CBT apparatus.
%
"What else did you have in mind?" Rich asks Mike Turk, after wearing down Gregg's stamina as well as his balls, which look like two bright christmas tree lights, except many times larger.
"You!" Mike says point blank to Rich's face.
"What do you mean?" Rich questions him, quite perplexed.
"I have to admit I truly enjoyed watching you torture Gregg."
His ego kicking in, Rich replies, "Yeah, I really get a lot of pleasure out of causing a guy intense pain!" He grins.
With a game plan formulizing, Mike asks, "Tell me, Rich, how much pain do you think 'you' can take?"
Some of the glamourous smile wearing off, Rich questions, "What do you mean, 'me' take pain, Mike?"
With more definition, Mike says, "Clamp and stretch your nips, weigh down your balls, whip your back, gutpunch you, I'd like to see what you can take?"
Glancing to Marco, who had come and now stood, wiping his goo up into his hairy front, Rich confronts them, "You're fuckin' crazy!" He eyes up the exit.
Changing his attitude, not one of which he was really pissed, but showing, Mike makes advance towards Rich, "I don't take kindly to a boy talkin' to me in such a manner?"
A few minutes ago, Rich held the whip and was the man in charge, but now he had a feeling of danger come over him, especially looking upon Mike Turk, a vision of a very athletic man. Too, he might be able to make it past Mike, but there was also Marco to contend with. So, using a bit of psychology, Rich perks up with, "First of all, Mike," he stands up to his aggressor, "I'm 'not' you boy and secondly," he nods towards Marco, "Why don't the two of us gang up on Marco and torture him?" he thumbs towards Marco.
Turning towards Marco, with ulterior motives, Mike Turk places his right elbow in the palm of his left hand and strums his short stubble, "You know you might have something there?" And, drawing Rich's attention away from the issue, Mike catches Rich off guard. Dropping his arms he curls with right hand into a tight fist, draws if back and plunges it into Rich's midsection.
Belching, all the air evacuated from his lungs, Rich lunges, folding in half. "You fuckin' piece of shit!" he manages to get out.
With a stance like a prizefighter, Mike says of Rich's derogatory comment, "So what're you gonna do about it... 'boy'?"
Rushing him, Rich planted his head right into Mike's gut, the two rushing backwards across the room until Mike's back plowed into a bondage table.
"Oof-f-f-f!" Mike exclaimed. Too, his sinking into Mike's gut, there wasn't any mercy when Rich's other fist came up between Mike's legs, seeking target - his big, bare balls.
If need be, Marco knew with whom his allegiance lie. For now, Mike seemed on the downside of things, but unlike Rich, Marco knew what Mike Turk was capable of, and allowing a small obstacle like a gutpunch and fist to the balls, he smiled, knowing Rich was in for the time of his life!
%
Copyright 2010 T. Chase McPhee
`Bar Tab Buy-out!' 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.....