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?
"Collecting Things" 13 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
%
Upon returning to the bedroom, Michael asked, "Um, where's Tom and Ben?"
"I told them to find the other guys and show Tom around." Smiling, Rex approached Michael. As he cupped his older lover's balls, he asked whimsically, "I hope you didn't go to the door dressed like this?"
Rex gave a gentle squeeze. Before Michael said anything, he roared with laughter.
Rex, grinning, asked, "What's that for?"
"Oh man, Rex. I never received such pleasure, in my whole life, as watching you humiliate the hell out of Jim Rettinger!"
Michael continued laughing, which made Rex laugh, too.
"I guess I did lay it on thick, huh Michael?"
"Oh fuck, yeah and it felt so hot!"
"Oh?"
"Yeah, you don't know how much I've wanted to see Jim taken down a peg or two, no less by a hot master jock like you, Rex."
"Is that so?" Rex replied, loosening up on his gripping of Michael's lower anatomy.
"Oh man, all these years, he's thought of himself as hot shit and then, it takes an eighteen year old to tear him off his throne!"
Rex, feeling proud of himself, grinned a wide one, as Michael continued with the onslaught of praise.
"And what about his slaveboys?"
"Oh, get this. He even volunteered information that he was getting a new slaveboy this coming week, to break in, so I took this guy away from him, too!"
"Good one, Michael. I'm real proud of you."
"Me? How so, Rex?"
"For stealing all of those poor boys away from him."
"Poor?"
"Yeah. Did you know that Jim branded Kevin?"
"Um, yeah. So?"
"Branded him, Michael. Like messed up the guy's chest?"
"Yeah, so? Kevin had it coming to him. He shouldn't have tried to leave."
"You go along with that, Michael?"
"Well, maybe I would've had him branded on his ass. Okay, the chest was a little harsh."
"Michael, have you seen the brand on Kevin's chest?"
"Sure. I was there when Jim had Kevin branded."
"Heeey, listen. I was in another master's territory. I didn't have a choice. It was Jim's call. There happened to be a few of us there..."
"Masters?"
"Yeah and though a few of us thought it barbaric, we couldn't voice our opinions on whether it should be carried out or not."
"If you ask me, is seems as if Jim used Kevin as a pawn."
"Pawn? How do you mean that, Rex?"
"Think of it, Michael. Jim could have very well given Kevin a lesser sentence, but no, he had to invite all of his 'master' friends and put on a spectacle for them. Like you said, Michael, Master Jim, the 'hot shit', had to put on a show."
Standing there, one hand on his bare torso, the other rubbing the back of his sweaty neck, Michael pondered Rex's hypothesis.
"Yeah, you could have something there, Rex," Michael finally replied, his index finger pointing to the idea, in the air, as if comething concrete. "As a matter of fact, the orchestration of the way Kevin had been treated, occured as is reheased with a score."
"Oh? And what makes you say that, Michael?"
"From the start of the proceedings, Jim had onw of the boys stand up in front of the crowd, the fuest masters separated from the boys, except their own that they had brought with them."
"Oh, so this was meant to be an example, then?"
"That's the main purpose of a public punishment."
"Go on, Michael."
Rex sat down on the leather sofa. Before Michael continued, he parked next to him, leaning back Rex then reclined.
"After one of the boys, Roberto, I belive, read the accusations, Jim called for two masters to come out of the crowd of spectators."
"And how many spectators were there?"
"Um, a good amount, maybe twenty-five or thirty. A little less than half of that had been comprised of their boys."
"And?"
"This is the point I'm making..."
"You Michael?"
"Your point, Rex, that two of the masters, whom 'didn't happened to have' a boy accompanying them and 'happened to each been carrying, on their person', a leather strap, and 'happened to be', near the front, came out of the crowd and walked right up on the platform."
As Michael continued with the events of the evening, he began to go along more and more with Rex's suspicions.
"I fact!" Michael jumped up, the bottom of his right fist hitting his left palm, upon discovery of the next palm, "as I recall, he already had that mean, son-of-a-bitch, 'Paul Klinghoffen', cradling the coals, where the branding iron was being heated."
Rex, getting up from the sofa, took Michael's bare arm, at the shoulder, saying, "What are you saying here, Michael?"
"I should've known... I should've detected his very well orchestrated plan, from the beginning."
"What are you saying, Michael?"
"Don't you see, Rex? You are absolutely right."
"I am?"
"Hell yeah!" Turning to face Rex, Michael holds his lover's arms, saying, "Don't you see? This wasn't any old punishment being carried out, this was a show."
"A show, Michael? Like a drama where characters are set on the stage and the play is acted out?"
"Oh, you're brilliant, Rex. Absolutely brilliant!"
"I am?"
"Now I see his game."
"Michael, am I missing something here?"
"Rex, as much as you hate your father, we've got to rescue him... and you!"
"Him? My father? I don't give a damn what happens to him."
"Yeah, but if you care what happens to yourself and ... us, you'll care what happens to him."
"Michael, you have me all confused here."
"Rex, there was a reason why Kevin was up on that platform, with two masters whipping him and a third stirring the pot with the branding iron. As I also recall, Jim Rettinger wasn't 'on' the stage."
"And what difference would that make it, Michael?"
"I'm not positive of this, but I know for a fact that Paul Klinghoffen works for 'Terminus Studios'."
"And what would that prove Michael?"
"Maybe that John Rettinger was being paid big bucks, to make a 'realistic' account of a slaveboy being punished?"
"Okay, so I don't agree with the subject of the movie, if this is all true, Michael. However, it's not illegal to make a porn movie."
"This is true, what you say, Rex, however I'm wondering if Kevin had his hand in the pot, as well?"
"Kevin!" Rex belted out. "Of course! The person who stood the least of getting a fair share of the whole matter!"
%
Across the landscape, in a mansion basement, remodeled to resemble a medieval dungeon, Malcom Peter Jarvis III, the forty-four year old father of Rex Jarvis, stood, naked and shackled, eagle-spread, leather cuffs adorning his wrists and ankles.
"Oh yeah... you're going to make me a tidy sum," Jim told the former businessman, turned slave.
Jarvis tried saying something, but to no avail, as the ballgag blotted out any comprehensive statement.
As he rubbed his hand over the slight stomach, Jim Rettinger said, "Oh yeah. It's going to be fun 'whipping' that stomach into shape, hee... hee...," giving the hairy stomach a slight tap with his palm. "But sorry that I can't give you any individual attention right now, Jarvis. Don't worry, I'll get to having fun with your body in a little while. Got some old, personal business to contend with right now." Before he completely lost sight of Rex's father, he turned back around and commented, listen in, if you want. It'll give you a better picture of what kind of fun you and I are going to have!"
As he continued walking, Master Jim howled a devilous laugh, as if something touched off a hilarious joke.
"Ooooh, nice position, Klinghoffen."
"Thank you, Jim. I have everything set and ready to go to work."
"Great and you've instructed your cameramen to focus on the brand?"
"Oh yes. It wouldn't be a sequel unless our audiences could make the connection."
Lifting Kevin's chin, Jim says to the tightly gagged twenty-six year old, "Put on a good act for the cameras, eh boy?"
Before he dropped Kevin's chin, the face livid with anger and fright, Jim winked.
"Let's roll 'em!" Master Jim called out, giving permission for Klinghoffen and his crew to start the filming.
As if the director or the film, Jim Rettinger sat down several feet behind where the cameras addressed the subject of the movie. In his black leather chair, propped up a little higher than the video cams, he seemed one with the scene, all decked out in his leather chaps, boots and harness. On a matching table, next to him, he reached for his drink, taking a sip and getting comfortable, paying closer attention to the beginning scene.
Klinghoffen, a tall man, looking to be around 6'3, dressed in chaps and boots, nothing covering his well developed chest. Beautifully brushed by the makeup man his chest looked bold, nips visible, the fine dark trail, nicely combed, a bit of gel added, to make the abs stand out. He hovered over the figure, Kevin, seated in a plain, wooden chair. Contray to Klinghoffen's hairy, well groomed body, Kevin's chest had been shaved and oiled up, so that when the camera viewed the mid-twenties guy's chest, the outline of the 'x' brand could vividly be seen. Void completely of hair, Kevin's chest brought out even more, Kevin's dark armpits, as his hands stretched above his body, wrists anchored behind his neck, cuffed to a post behind his back, as seated in the custom made chair. His butt had hardly anything to sit on, as his knees sank to the floor. It became the perfect position for showing Kevin off, straightening out the lines of this taut stomach so that the remaining trail down his belly, the deep indentation or his navel and then the flopping pubic region could stand out.
Being careful not to obstruct neither the camera, nor Kevin's body, Klinghoffen, utilizing his wonderful acting skills asked his bound captive, "I have the papers here, all ready for you to sign, however you refuse. So, young man, you leave me no recourse other than trying to persuade you to do so."
If Kevin knew what torturous moments he was about to endure, he would've jumped over to the table and signed the paper. However, his wrists, cuffed and bound to the pole, plus his inability to speak out, rendered all attempts to save himself from some torturous moments to follow, proving the hopelessness of his situation. He watched as Klinghoffen chose two pairs of identical pliers from the table, next to the paper that he was supposedly to have been given the chance to sign.
The cameras zoomed in towards Kevin's chest. Jim rubbed his crotch, as one of the monitors pictured the oiled chest, the closeup lense facing the indentation of the 'x' brand.
"I gave you one chance to sign, Kevin, but looks like we need to use some more 'convincing' methods."
With his eyes glued to the monitor, retreating from the zoom, far enough away to pickup both the branded 'x' and Kevin's face, looking down at the focus of Klinghoffen's attention, he rubbed his crotch, sighing. First off, holding the two pairs of pliers, in each hand, it's perpetrator, ran one or the pairs down one slash of the 'x', crossing it with the other pair of pliers. One camera broke from the pair of pliers Klinghoffen held in his right hand. Of course a camera, designated as 'Klinghoffen's cock cam', would eventually keep those interested, in how the Klinghoffen's gargantuan 9.5c shaft, stayed alert, resting on the big bed of balls.
Rettinger's interest remained in both. The cutaway of the 9.5c, starting to sweat out it's cock juice and the fate of Kevin's cam, which followed the pliers in Klinghoffen's right hand, as it approached Kevin's right nip. Suddenly the lense widened, to include both of Kevin's erect nips, smoothly shaven all around. Momentarily, Klinghoffen's 'cock cam' faded out, fading in Kevin's ballgagged face, viewing him from the top, picking up his face from the mane of his sweating hair (artificially enhanced, to detect the nervousness of his position, which wasn't entirely faked by Kevin) to whatever else was captured, which included his 'worked' cock.
"Cut... cut.... cut!"
Of course, when the action ceased, either somebody made an error or Kevin's makeup had to be touched up.
The yell came from the director, "Jack, ya gotta keep your fuckin' hand outta the way!"
It became a laughing matter, not to Kevin, but to the rest, including Jim and Klinghoffen, as Jack's hand had been snagged by the cam. Jack's sole responsibility was to keep Kevin's hard cock, hard!
A man behind one of the many cams, joked, "Lucky we didn't capture Jack's lips wrapped around it!"
"Fuck you, Sanders," they heard Jack call out, before the director silenced the joking around.
"Action!"
Once again the cameras repeated the scene of Klinghoffen crossing out the 'x', branded on Kevin's chest, with the pliers, before the fading out of the hard, leaking 9.5c shaft, then refocusing on Kevin, looking down at the fate of the two pliers, which now had been carefully placed over Kevin's nipmeat, the tips of the pliers wide open and readying to be closed.
"Last chance," Klinghoffen offers.
That was one of the flaws of the script, which didn't matter if anyone picked up on later. The almost ninety minute, hundred dollar DVD would be sold hundreds of times over, before anybody wondered how Kevin could give his okay to sign the paper, if a ballgag obstructed his vocal cords. Instead, a guy watching the video of DVD, would be focused on his own cock, as he watched the jaws of the pliers slowly close around Kevin's medium brown nips, the nipmeat being mashed, squeezing out between the jaws of the pliers, as if an overloaded peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
"Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnhhhhhhhh!" The audio picked up on, as the visual cam steadied above Kevin's head.
Moving higher to accomodate his complete facial portrait, the cam picked up on the squinting eyes and the contortions it made, as Klinghoffen squeezed harder on the pliers. Separate cams zoomed in on each nip, one as Klinghoffen twisted Kevin's left nip, then a quick followup on Kevin's right nip, showed the tip of the pliers, pulling the end of the boy's nips, stretching it far away from his chest.
"This will make you talk!" Klinghoffen assured Kevin.
Poor Kevin would go on gyrating his hips, arching his back, trying to do anything to wiggle out of the torment his body received. This is also where the camera tore away from Kevin's own pubic region. One of Jim's other slaveboys, Roberto, twenty-five years old, had been fashioned so that he resembled being in Kevin's predicament. Instead of having his pecs brutally tortured with a set of pliers, his sensitive nips had been nicely treated with soft fingertips. However the eventual pics would show Kevin's torment, pleasuring him, as Roberto's cock bled with soft oozing.
The producers of the video/DVD weren't entirely without mercy. Some of the nip torture footage would be repeated, cutting down on the amount of filming, editing out about thirty minutes of the nip torture sequence, in order to get in equal amounts of cbt and assplay.
After the cams had finished their job, of filming John Rettinger's newest release from Terminus Studios, he asked Paul Klinghoffen if it interested him to stick around for the real thing.
"Real thing?" he questioned Jim Rettinger.
"Yeah, I was wondering if I could make it worth your while to do the scene, in the real sense?"
Klinghoffen didn't know what Jim meant, asking, "What are you talking about, Rettinger?"
"Well, I've run into a little problem here and figured you and I could play around a little. You know... Keep the plumbing stiff and at the same time, I could help you keep your bank account stable?"
"What does it entail?"
Looking back at Kevin's body, slumping in the makeshift chair, stretched out, stressing his bound arms, Jim replies, "Like the film says, Klinghoffen, torture Kevin til he signs?"
It wasn't unusual in Klinghoffen's business, to get some real action at the end of filming. However, even though he's dabbled in bdsm, as roleplay or as a small part of a film, where the actor agreed in writing to be tortured, as part of the salary, he's never done anything like this in 'real' life. Usually the extra 'bonus' had been having the pleasure of spending a couple of hours fucking a guy's throat or ass.
"Wait, Rettinger. Are you saying that this boy never signed a contract with the studios? To be tortured?"
Another idea phased the owner of Terminus Studios.
"Wouldn't look good if you, plus the camera men, plus the producers got caught... with their pants down, so to speak?"
"Shit, Rettinger! We've all trusted you to have the right paperwork filed!"
"Yeah. It's a shame that they work so fast to get everything edited and on disc so quickly, too. I suspect," Jim looks at the absent watch on his wrist, "oh, maybe in an hour those DVD's will be on the street."
"Too late to stop it!"
Of course. Jim knew that.
"So, what do we say, Klinghoffen? Afterall, I suspect that the cum oozing out of you cock wasn't all a put on?"
Klinghoffen agreed to whatever Jim had in mind. He even forgave any kind of payment, realizing that later on, if the law ever found out that a contract wasn't signed by Kevin 'before' they made the movie, that he wouldn't be liable. Let the other's pay for it, became a joke between the two.
"How about a beer and freshen up in the pool before you go to work on Kevin, Paul?"
"Aaah, could use that, Jim. If you had a boy handy, I could stand to unload my balls, too!"
"No problem, Paul... No problem."
%
"Listen, Rex. Okay, it might sound a little barbaric and if it was my choice, I wouldn't have had Kevin branded, but I happened to be there at the time. Plus, I hadn't realised the scam that..."
"Michael, stop. I believe you, okay?"
"You do?"
"Michael, I know we like to have our fun."
"Yeah, but I swear that I didn't know until just now that..."
"Shhhhh...shhhhh," The eighteen year old replied, putting his fingers up to Michael's lips.
"But..."
"Michael, I know you're not the kind that would deliberately torture a guy. I mean, I know you like to play around, like me, with consentual play."
"But, Rex, I'm not an animal like some of those guys are and...."
Michael tried to convince Rex that he hadn't a hand in this activity, that has been uncovered as a money-making scam, utilizing those others, who have been forged into becoming actors, after being duped into likeing the bdsm lifestyle.
"So, this one time you thought all had been legit, you were duped. Michael, I want to show you something."
Rex led Michael over to his computer.
"Sit, Michael."
"Rex, we don't have time to mess around. We've gotta to..."
"We have enough time for this Michael."
Rex went over to his bookcase, removing some thick volumes of encyclopedias.
"You ever use them anymore, Rex?"
"No. I can get whatever I need online, but sometimes it's nice to lay down on the bed and read, instead of staring at a computer screen. Here we go."
"What are those?"
"Certain CD's that mean a lot to me."
"Oh, I see, music that you don't care to listen to anymore?"
"No. A collection that I've been saving up for years."
"Family stuff?"
"You might say that, Michael."
Rex puts the first disc in. A slide show begins immediately, after a file is clicked.
"Hey! That's me!"
"Yep," Rex grins, knowing what the next question will be.
"How? When? Where did you get this from?"
"I played around with my digital camera, right after I got it. I know where father had you stationed."
"But... I'm supposed to be protecting you, Rex. How did you get out to take my picture?"
"I guess you can call me a slippery character."
"Oh shit! Will you look at that!"
Michael forgets about the troubling matter at hand, as he views a pic of himself, on duty patrolling the grounds, one hand scratching his crotch.
"Yeah, I jerked off to that pic a couple of times, Michael. Look what comes next!"
"Noooooooooooooooo... you were there?"
"Hee heeee... I know a lot about you that you never knew I knew, Michael."
"You knew? That my favorite place to jerk off was in the potting shed?"
"Where do you think I got my first taste of a man's cum?"
"You... you ate my cum? When?"
"After you left and more than once. In fact, I visited the potter's shed often."
"I'll say," Michael replied, as he watched each slide, showing different views of his own cum, residue left behind after a glorious jerkoff.
"Ooooh watch this... here it comes.."
"Ohhhh man, this is so fucking humiliating, Rex! Turn it off... turn it off!"
"No, it's okay, Michael."
But Michael wouldn't let himself continue looking, getting up, placing his hands on his face to wipe the sweat away.
"That damn fuckin' digital camera!"
"Michael, are you mad at me?"
"Me? Mad at you Rex? Shit! I thought it would be the other way around. Here I am, after professing my love to you and," gesturing towards the computer, as if paving the way, with his hand, "you catch me redhanded fucking the carpenter's son!"
"It felt good at the time, didn't it Michael?"
"Of course it did, but Rex..."
"Michael," Rex grabs around the waist, their naked bodies rubbing, "that was years ago. This is now. I'm sure that the carpenter's son wasn't the other guy you fucked."
"Yeah, so?" Michael replied, a bit of a blush on his face.
"Michael, here's the plain truth. You might love me.... no, you do love me and I love you. Very much. However Michael, I don't expect you to be confined to keeping your balls in check all the time."
"Huh?"
"Being devoted to me and loving me doesn't mean that I expect you to turn off your cock and balls, like a faucet, Michael. You're thirty-four years young. You like to fuck guys."
"Yeah, but now that I...."
"Michael, I 'want' you to keep fucking other guys."
"You do, Rex?"
"Of course I do, Michael. You've got to keep the plumbing working!"
Both had a quick laugh, then it went back to the sincere moments.
"I don't know Rex."
"Michael, I don't want you to feel guilty either."
"I dunno. Maybe."
"Not Maybe, Michael. I know you enjoy fucking a guy so much and now that you've spent your life doing that, you can't turn it off. Believe me, I know how it feels!"
"So level with me, Rex?"
"What Michael?"
"Am I the first guy you ever fucked?"
"Yes."
Looking at Rex, maybe for even a thread of a look that would cause him to shed a doubt about the validity of his statement, Michael closed the gap between them, bringing Rex's lips to his own.
"Here, I want to show you something else, Michael."
"More incriminating evidence, Rex?"
However, Michael had to sit for this one.
"Remember when Philip came to visit us?"
"Yeah. His first trip over, from Italy. Heeeey! What is this?"
"Like me, Philip didn't exactly know how to take the pictures, with the digital camera, but he did capture some expressive moments. What do you think, Michael?"
"Oooooooh!" He sighed.
This time, it wasn't any moment when his genitals reacted to a sexual prowness. Instead, he vented his tender sighs on watching Rex, in his arms, after making a home run.
"Oooooh, I remember that!"
"I was fourteen, Michael."
Looking at the monitor, Michael might not have experienced that sexual connection, but now, as he rubbed his hands on the eighteen year old's shoulders, he felt the electricity, as if connecting that moment in time, with how he cared about Rex now.
"Man, looking at it I see how I never made the connection then, like I do now, Rex."
"Oh? How's that go, Michael?" Rex asked, looking up from his chair, seeing the bottom of Michael's chin, as he gaze at the computer screen.
"I... I think I loved you back then."
"Michael," Rex confessed, "You know you're not the only one."
"Huh?" Michael questioned, as he looked down at his lover looking up, his face slowly changing from a moment long ago in time, to the reality of the present day.
Instead of bending down, Rex took the first step, swiveling around, as Michael backed up. Staring him straight in the face, Michael's 9c stared back at him. Looking down, Michael took in the view of his lover, his own cockhead, almost touching the red lips.
"Hee heee... I never could get the lense to focus this close!"
"I'll wait if you want to get the camera. I don't think it'll wilt by the time you come back, Rex."
"I... I don't think I want this as part of your collection, Michael."
"Nooooooooooooooooooooo!" Michael called out, as Rex opened his mouth and dove straight ahead. Almost immediately he cried, "Ahhhhhhhhhh shhiiiiiiiiit!"
"What the fuck did you do that for, Michael?"
"Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" Michael called out, holding his cock.
"You're own fault, Michael!"
Yes, it had been Michael's own fault, for pressing aginst Rex's shoulders, bending his torso back, pulling his cock out of Rex's mouth, his teeth dragging along the sensitive sides of his bloated shaft.
"Ooooooh Michael, I'm sorry."
With one hand on his shoulder, the other reaching around Michael's body, Rex touched the injury.
"Michael, I'm sorry. Natural reaction, I guess. I dunno. Are you okay?"
Normally, if any man had stood behind Michael and even hinted that they thought about sticking their hard cock up his ass, they most likely would have had wound up with their dick tied in a knot. However, Rex would be the only one to ever be able to accomplish that live to carry out using his ass.
"Oooooooooh!" Michael sighed, feeling Rex's stiff 8.5c blocked his ass crevice.
Kidding, Rex says, "Fuck you and make it all better?"
With his eyes closed, Michael pawed up and down the sides of Rex's bod, his back to his lover's chest. After Rex's whimsical remark, his hands stopped at the torso, bringing that part of his body in closer with his ass.
"Yeah... take me Rex. Make me your's all over again. Whateve you want, it's yours. Do what you want to me."
"Hmm," Rex quipped, "You better be careful what you ask for!"
As Rex concluded his statement, he reached around and tweaked Michael's nips. His hands remained at ease, still stroking the eighteen year old, as his nips got 'the treatment'!
continued.........
Copyright 2005 T. Chase McPhee All Rights Reserved.
Permission is NOT granted to publish
this story to any PAY site, nor any site
other than www.nifty.org, without the
author's prior consent.