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, countries, nor governmental areas, 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. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
"Friendly Persuasion" 03 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"Where the hell are you putting all that?" Scott questioned, as Jase woofed down his third slice of pizza.
"Not hungry?" He questioned Scott, who hardly took two bites out of his first slice.
"Um, nah. Must've been the big lunch I ate."
"What'd you eat?" Jase inquired.
"A bowl of rabbit food. Gotta keep the carbs low."
Smiling, Jason pretended he didn't see Scott pick up the bottom of his tank top and take a peek of his abs. Not until he decided to make sport of it.
"Still a big, pink spot?"
"What?" Scott asked, quickly dropping his shirt over the scrunched up stomach.
"You're stomach my `tiny' fist bashed in, about a half hour ago?"
"Oh, that," Scott plainly said. "It'll fine as soon as I get back to the gym."
Having second thoughts, Jase thought he might fess up, but then again it would provoke Scott into harassing him again. He decided to play it cool.
"So, tell me about these guys we're meeting up with tonight?"
With no answer, Jase turned his head, his torso twisting, as he tried picking out whom commanded Scott's attention, over his shoulder. "Which one?" Jase asked, point blank, talking to a face which paid no attention, "The brunette or the redhead?"
Without flinching a muscle, still staring, Scott replies, "The blond."
Twisting around the other way, Jase tried looking for the blond he missed. Now his attention was fixated on the tall guy, leaning against the wall, chatting on his cell, a beer in one hand. "Hot," Jason observed.
"Don't stare, you idiot!" Jase heard, from in front of him. Connecting with his bro, he responds, "But you were just doing the same thing, Scott!"
"Yeah, well, I'm like facing him. You, turning your bod to get a look, makes it so obvious." After a short pause, Scott exclaims, "Oh shit! He's coming over here, probably ready to accuse us of being two homos, checking him out."
"Dah, Scott, we are two homos and who cares if he caught us checking him out!"
"Oh shit! He's bringing his buds. Probably going to kick the shit out of us!"
"No sweat," Jase says, "Just stand up to them with your `big' fists, bro."
"Me? You pack a good wallop. What about you?"
The trio's quick advancement stifled the two brothers. They sighed with relief when two of them, the redhead and the brunette cruised on by.
"Hey, guys. Mind if I join you?" The blond said, pulling out the lowback wooden chair, taking the liberty to invite himself, the two brothers giving a sigh of relief. "How's the pizza?"
Scott and Jase looked at each other, then keyed their attention on the blond, as he helped himself to their tray of half-eaten pizza.
"First time I've been here." Then, a turnaround of subject, wiping a hand on the thigh of his jeans, offers, "Where are my manners?"
Scott fudges a blurb behind his hand, "Apparently at home."
It made Jase smile, his attention still on the chewing blond.
Letting it fly over his head, the blond announces, "Eynon Dungarvan."
Scott got a quick handshake, but when it came Jase's turn, Eynon wasn't too eager to let go, as Jase said, "This here is my brother, Scott Friend. I'm Jason, but you can call me Jase."
"Cool," Eynon replied, withdrawing his hand, when Jase's stare made an issue out it's lingering too long, breaking off eye contact.
"Ahem!" Scott clears his throat, being forthright, all too eager to report what his Gaydar was thinking for him, "You think my bro's hot, huh?"
It floored Eynon, but got an earful from Jase, as he said louder than usual, "Scott, you asshole!"
Remorseful for his outloud thoughts, Scott just forced a fake, pearly white smile, as he slid down in his seat, trying to hide from onlookers.
"Hey, he's right, okay? I like was checking you out since you two guys came in."
"So, what do you have to say to that, bro?" Scott tried redeeming himself. "Was I right or was I right?"
"What a guy has to put up with!" Jase directed to Eynon, but slung at Scott, "You're still an asshole!"
"You two are a panic, you know that?" Eynon said of the two.
It served to relieve Scott of his guilt, loosening up Jase, making the two smile, as Eynon laughed his ass off.
"Um, bro?" Jase said, pointing to his watch, a secret signal between both, "Um, don't you think you should put a hustle on?"
Catching himself paying more attention to Eynon, than his own bro, Scott replies, "Oh! Yeah, sure. But aren't you going to help me..." He switched back, from paying attention to Jase, his sentence fading, as he looked to Eynon with suddeness, realizing not everybody liked certain fetishes, like Troy and Juan, the two college dudes they were meeting at nine. Already, Scott got the hint that it wasn't only Eynon getting `the hots' for his bro. "Um, help me find the place... yeah, that's it... where they live?"
"You had plans?" the blond questioned, wise to the fact it seemed a coverup was being played out, for his benefit.
"Nothing Scott can't handle for himself, right bro?"
Both the eighteen and nineteen year olds looked to Scott.
"Ah yeah. No problem, bro." Then, towards Eynon, in particular, "New car-- forgot about the GPS," Scott slowly told them.
Whilst the two brothers talked, Eynon taking in every word, also took in the last bites of the final slice of pizza.
Right away, Eynon offers, his hand going to his back, left pocket, "I can fork over some cash, if it's okay?"
His wallet out, Jase's hand was there, to slap it down on the table, Eynon's hand sandwiched in between, as Jase generously offered, "Scott's treat. Right bro?" Jase added a grin, all sparkling white teeth.
"Um, yeah. Sure," Scott said, staring at Jase, as if to say, `you already offered... what am I supposed to do?'
"Thank's Scott!" Eynon said, appreciatively, his right hand touching Scott's hairy forearm.
With more cheer, Scott's smile and "No sweat," were deemed not enough of a reply, since the teen's touch fired up some vibrations, underneath the table. When Eynon removed it, it's like Scott's pilot went out! Knowing it would bug the hell out of Jase, Scott, rising, offered the two, "Well, I'm going to run along. Can't keep the `clients' waiting.... nice to meet you Eynon." Then he tells both, directs his comment, meant for both, but looking at his brother, "You two lovebirds have a nice night."
Scott's smile turned into a grin, when he spotted Jase's hand on the table, the red and white boxed pattern, in contrast to his bro segregating his middle finger, in a subtle hint of what he'd like Scott to go do!
The comment did make Eynon blush a little, obvious against his mane of blond hair and the slight fuzz on his forearms, highlighting his attempt to grow a scant beard, but as he watched the two visually converse, he thought about how glad he was, letting his two buds walk on by, himself taking the initiative to `make new friends'.
Jason was still staring at Scott, as his older brother paid the bill at the register. Right after, their waiter appeared with two beers. "Compliments of the hot... I mean of the fellow at the register," Tall, dark and handsome said.
It's the one thing which tore Jase's attention away from the front desk of the pizzeria. As with Eynon, he showed a little sense of embarrassment. The wheels turning in his head, Jase was thinking some dastardly thoughts.
"Um, I gotta take a whiz," Eynon reports, rather desperately, getting up from the circular table, politely excusing himself.
The accidentally dropped hint, from the waiter, wasn't enough for Jase to go on. The waiter, brass nametag reading, Adrian, clued Jase into his identity. Knowing the roundabout route, to find out certain answers, he decided to try his luck at pursuing something Scott was well-versed in, manuevers which would make a guy divulge information, when the guy made it a point to hide certain idiosyncrasies about himself.
"So Adrian," Jase hurried into the conversation, before giving the tuxedoed waiter a chance, "how long have you been a waiter here?"
Pausing, Adrian grinned, then wiped the soft smile off his face, already ahead of the game he was about to play, by his own rules. "Since I was about twelve. How about you, where do you work?"
Already having his next question on tap, not expecting the diversion, Jase stumbled over his reply, having to `think' briefly. Contrary to what he expected to pick from the Italian stud's mind, he had to think out his reply hastily, making sure he didn't unload some certain facts about himself. "Don't. At least for now," he replied, conjuring up a reply which would sell. "I'm still in high school. Maybe next year I'll look for something. But..."
Both dudes looked up, upon hearing, "Nice jon you have there. Do me a favor and relay to the boss, the cleanliness of the facility."
"I'll do that," Adrian replied, his thin, dark stache turning up with his smile.
Jase added, "Speaking of which, you best start hustling, before the boss gets on your ass, for slacking off."
Before he replied, Adrian pulled out the chair, vacated by Scott, dropping his ass casually into the corraled seat. At the same time, he revealed, "I doubt it could happen."
"I strongly disagree!"
Both Adrian and Jase hurled their attention towards the nineteen year old blond bombshell. "I beg your pardon?" Adrian probed.
"My ex..." Eynon caught himself, "Uh, I mean, my friend, worked at a restaurant once. He sat down once, while on the job and his boss kicked him out of the place, right on his ass!"
"Like I said, It's not gonna happen. You see," and Adrian said this boldly, "I'm the `asskicker' around here!"
As with Scott's comment, Eynon's skin turned a pretty pink, both he and Jase, mouths dropping open. Both their eyes zeroed in on Eynon's tall glass of cola, Adrian picking it up and downing the contents, sighing, "Ahhhhh," afterwards. Then, he proceeded to get up and get back to work, with, "See you guys around, huh?"
"Yeah," Eynon said faintly, "see ya," leaning on the table, watching the tall, beefy Italian disappear into the kitchen.
However, Jase folded his arms across his chest, leaned back into his chair, relaxed, smiling, drawing a mental picture of his brother, dressed in his leathers, Adrian on his knees, chained like a dog, bowing to the master's request.
"Yo, earth-to-Jase?"
Coming out of his reverie, he acknowledged Eynon, "Huh?"
"I said, I was wondering if you want to crash at my place?"
Looking at his wristwatch, Jase spotted the big hand just about touching the number eight, one hour before curfew. "Um, how `bout we go to my place?" On his mind was the feel of his father's belt on his back, almost as if sensing the sting of pain. Walking in after hours, with Scott at his side would be enough of excuse for pardon, but that would not hold creedance with anyone else.
"Sure," Eynon replied, a tingling sensation in his pants, with the suggestion, not mattering who's house they wound up at.
Taking his tall glass in hand, Jase chugged his down. Forgetting, Eynon held his brown, transparent glass in hand, with as about as much as spit. After a few gulps, Jase tilted his glass at the mouth of Eynon's glass, and poured.
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"I thought that was your car!"
"Oh shit!" Scott shouts, surprised by the police officer, leaning over, arms stationed over the rolled down window of Scott's 4x4.
"Oh, did I startle you?"
"What do you think, Matt, when you sneak up on a guy?" Scott answered his question.
"Sorry `bout that," the cop, in full uniform, apologized. "So, you waiting for a trick, Scott?"
"Two," Scott replied.
"Nice. Masters or slaveboys?"
"Neither. They aren't into roleplaying. The two have a running bet."
"Bet, eh?" Officer Matt Boone probes for more details, as he bends over, his six foot bod lowered to the window ledge.
Coy, Scott barters, "You want details, it'll cost you, Matt."
"After I let you tear a perfectly good police uniform off my body? You know they don't come cheap?"
Having an answer for everything, Scott tells, "What are you complaining about, Matt? It was your idea, remember?"
"Yeah, but..." Matt tried to intervene.
"It was part of your fantasy. Remember?"
"Yeah, but..."
"You did tell me, when we chatted online, your fantasy was to be captured by a man you arrested, sent to prison and he was taking his revenge?"
Instead of further protests, the twenty-eight year old police officer let his crotch sway his opinion. "Yeah, that was some session I had with you."
Smiling, Scott inquires, "The welts go away yet?"
"Almost. I still have to be careful about not taking a shower at the station."
But Scott had another idea as to why, suggesting, "Are you sure it isn't because of the body shave I gave you?"
"That, too," Matt says.
"Ass still sore from the buttplugs?"
"Somewhat. Shit, I can't believe you got that large one up my ass."
"You mean `forced' it, Matt?"
"I have to admit. It did feel good, even though it was excruciating."
"Oh really, Matt? Your cock wasn't complaining one bit!"
Scott was right on the mark, filling Matt's ass chamber with the fat tool of torture.
Scott recollects, "Yeah, I have to admit, playing the vengeful ex-con, really got me going."
"Maybe next time you can fuck me?" Matt asks, eyes wide, with hope.
"Like I said, the first night. That's a priviledge to be earned."
"Um, like what do I have to do to earn it?"
The night had gotten pitch black, as the sun hit the horizon, sinking down. In the parking lot of the town park, maybe two pole lights lit the whole area.
If it were anybody else, Matt would have called it `assaulting an officer', but standing there, bent over, his eyes followed Scott's hands, reaching out the window, unbuttoning Matt's shirt by three buttons. "Hold it open," Scott commanded, the police officer responding, pulling his shirt wide apart, as if Clark Kent turning into Superman. "I know they're in here somplace," Scott thought out loud, rummaging through the glove compartment. "Ah, here they are." After untangling two of the same item, he shifts around in his seat, saying, "It never hurts to keep a few extra on hand, for that unexpected moment."
Still grabbing the sides of his regulation police officer's shirt, open, Matt complains, "Oh no... not that!"
"No problem," Scott replied, coiling up the nip clamps, hanging on each end of the chain, tossing them back in the glove compartment, slamming it shut. "No clamps, no fuck!"
Matt bit his lip. Being late fall, the cool of the evening made him shiver, though he wasn't sure it the reason for making his cock hard. "Wait a minute. Alright," Matt broke down.
Grinning, Scott retrieved the jagged toothed clamps from the glove compartment. "You're cock still telling you what to do, Matt?"
Both knew the truth. Instead of answering Scott's question, the cop asked, "So what do I have to do with those?"
"All depends on when you want your ex-con' to continue getting his revenge', Matt."
"I dunno," he said, frankly.
"I think I know what can help you make up your mind."
Taking one of the silver nip clamps, Scott holds it between his thumb and index finger, prying open the jaws, instructing, "There's not much pressure right now."
"I appreciate that," Matt replies, holding his shirt wide open, the dashboard lights illuminating the lightly haired pecs.
"Your hair is coming back," Scott says, as he teases Matt's left nip with the closed nip clamp, rubbing it over and over the meaty flesh.
"Ohhhhhh," Matt exclaimed, as Scott open up the clamp, catching Matt's nip in the jaws, then allowing the nip clamp to `snack'.
"Feels good, don't it?" Scott asks, as Matt squints in pain.
"You got that right!" Matt replies, humming an `mmmm', as if tasting something good.
Reaching out the window, Scott smiles, as his hand feels Matt wanting more of the same. "Your cock tells me you're ready for the other one!"
With the chain hanging free, metal-toothed clamps attached to Matt's pecs, he sighs in pleasure, this time his own hand feeling up himself.
Scott sat there, himself getting tingly down yonder, seeing the police shirt hang over Matt's shoulder, open wide, the red, white and yellow lights of his dashboard, reflecting off of the nip clamps, making the connecting chain shimmer.
"You can button up now."
"But aren't you going to take these off?" Matt questions.
"I thought you wanted a hot fuck, Matt?"
"Sure, but...."
"Well, until we confirm a day for the next kidnapping', you will' continue to wear them."
"What?" Matt exclaimed, his hands ready to button up, but now frozen in place. "How am I going to pull that off? I've gotta shower at the station. I go swimming at the gym..."
"Oh, I didn't say you couldn't take them off, did I Matt?"
"No," Matt replied, the statement calming him.
"Then feel free to take the clamps off anytime!"
"Whew!" Matt said as if it were a hundred and ten outside.
"Oh course, the minute you take them off-- no kidnapping. No kidnapping, means no fuck!"
Matt just stood there, hands on the door frame, over the opened window, whining, "Oh come on."
As that wasn't enough, Scott dictates to him, "Plus, every night before you go to bed, you will," not a suggestion, but a strict order, "give them both a quarter of a turn counterclockwise."
"What?" Matt then exclaimed, as he did when advised of the first phase of the nip torture.
Nonchalantly, as if Matt's gripe didn't make a difference, which it didn't, Scott told him, "You better get going. My two `maso-boys' will be getting here soon."
Standing, Matt's six foot, one inch height brought him a little above the roof of Scott's 4x4.
"And Matt?"
"What else?" Matt asks, with a mask of frustration.
"I really don't give a damn when you loosen the screws, but when I rip your uniform off, I better find no screws in the nip clamps?"
As he began buttoning up his shirt, the heavy fabric rubbed at his pecs, stimulating his nips, clamped tight.
"Feels great, doesn't it, Matt?" Scott asks for the second time, with intent to humiliate.
From his last session, the twenty-eight year old police officer knew answering a question negatively would amount to punishment, as the roleplaying `ex-con' forced him into slavery. Even though his joystick throbbed, Matt, thinking of how he was going to wear nip clamps, going about his daily routine, he said, in a muted voice, "Yeah. Real good." If he wasn't being fed enough sadistic pleasure, sometimes Matt would use a negative response to his own advantage.
Even as he walked back to his patrol car, the chain swayed underneath his shirt, moving back and forth, tugging the clamps on his nips, enough to feel a stinging sensation. However, Matt caught himself biting his lip, when the pain shot down to his boxer shorts.
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Copyright 2007 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.