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.
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"Friendly Persuasion" 06 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"One down, one to go!"
Cutting Jase loose, Rob pulled him up to standing position, forgetting about the cuffs at Jase's ankles.
Squinting his eyes, Jase moaned in pain.
"Oops!" Rob said, a smile adorning his lips. "Almost forgot," talking about the metal cuffs. Then, stepping on the bottom rung, he broke if off. "Fuck the chair," he commented, easily slipping the ringed cuffs off of the legs. With duct tape stuck to the front of Jase's tee shirt, Rob held the eighteen year olds arms behind his back, forcing him to walk through the hallway, the cuffs at his feet banging on the floor, as if shackles. In a rather weak condition, after having been initially gut-punched, then subdued, fighting his bondage, then the heavy slap to his face, not to mention his balls being mashed, Jase had little fight left in him.
"Eynon?" He questioned, softly. Down in the recesses of the basement, after walking through another metal door, the teen's head cocked to the side, as Rob pushed the teen over towards a large bondage device, two planks of wood crossing each other, forming an X'. As would be his predicament, Eynon, drugged and stripped down to the buff, hung there by his arms, legs as well fastened to a different X', almost next to where Rob positioned Jase's bod.
Making quick work of it, experienced with binding a guy to the frame, Rob made light work of fastening leather cuffs to each of Jase's wrists, spreading them out wide. He `fucked it', when he discovered he didn't have the keys for the cuffs, likewise fastening the leather ankle cuffs, already attached to the wooden frame. With his bare hands, he tore the duct-taped tee shirt, already ripped at the shoulder, from Jase's bod. With a knife, he cut up each pants leg, to the beltline. Unbuckling Jase's belt, he tore it from the loops, commenting, "Hmm... nice quality. Could come in handy," as he took the leather accessory, stretched it out and ran it down Jase's pecs, intentionally massaging the teens perky nips.
Not saying a word, Jase turned his head, watching Rob, as he did the same thing to Eynon, using his own belt.
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"That road's a real bitch, you know?" Matt informs Scott of something already known.
As Scott and Tris climbed out of the 4x4, Matt pulled up in his patrol car, followed by Juan's bright red BMW, dulled by the darkness of the evening.
"So you've said for the last ten times you were here?" Scott remarks.
"Um, fourteen?" Matt corrects him.
Out of Tris' mouth comes, "I thought a master was always right?"
"Ten lashes for your insolence, boy," Scott drifted back to the roleplaying, directing the act of corporal punishment towards Matt.
"Only ten?" Matt replies.
"Twenty-five. You happy now?"
Matt just stood there, smiling.
"Nice place," Troy says of the old, dilapidated mansion, shutters falling apart, gardens obviously unattended to, a pool with a statue in the middle, water looking like muck.
However, Scott's mind wasn't on Troy, as Juan stepped up to the front, asking, "So, when do we get to try out that dungeon?" his hand at his crotch, rubbing it, with anticipation.
"Right this way, slaveboy!"
Walking in the front door, Scott heard nothing but silence. "Anybody for a beer before we start having some fun?"
He had orders from the four, whom followed him right into the kitchen.
"Messy place," Troy stated.
"Looks worse than the outside," Tris said of the untidiness.
However, seeing the busted up chair, feeling the remnants of duct tape still clinging to its frame, rungs broken, the utensil drawer on the floor, stuff scattered all over the place, drew alarm to Scott, as he says, "Wait here," quickly vacating the kitchen. Cautiously, he opened the door, dividing reality from the underground world of fantasy. Not hearing anything, Scott slowly walked down the wooden stairs. Lighted, he could almost swear something was going on in the dungeon. Slowly opening the door to the chamber of torture, careful not to open it more than needed to slip in, he plastered his back to the wall. From across the room he could hear talking, as if two guys carryied on a normal conversation, one being his father. He wasn't positive, but he thought the other was that of Jason, though he sounded a little off key.
Bending down on all fours, he crawled along behind a row of bondage tables, til he could peer between two pieces of the black furniture. To himself he gasped, thinking What tha fuck?' upon viewing his brother, cuffed to X' frame, eagle-spread, his step-father dishing out words, a strap in his hand. Periodically, as the two exchanged words, the strap would fly through the air, Jase screaming out in pain as it crossed his chest. The sound of pain drove Scott on, to get a closer viewing of the torturous scene. From his new vantage point, he could hear quite clearly.
"You never loved Scott and I... admit it, `Rob'," Jase exchanged the greeting from the endearing to just another guy. "Why the fuck...akkkkkkkkkkkkk!"
When the strap landed across Jase's pecs, it made Scott shiver. Sure, he's whipped another guy, but it was all part of a game; part of a mutual agreement to live out a fantasy.
"The one thing I regret when your mother left me. She didn't take you two bastards with her!"
"What tha?" Scott said, this time audible, as he lifted himself up from the doggie position.
"Oh Scott.. didn't hear you come in, son" Rob said, his disposition turning sweet, but also aware of being overheard.
As Scott seemingly walked from the entrance, he exchanged glances between poor Jason and Rob, til he asked, "What the fuck is this?"
If it was a punishing session it might be plausible, as punishment went, a strap applied to the back. Faced forward, the same welts formed over the teen's chest showing some nasty welts, dried blood on his brother's left ankle, grisly details portraying a more alarming situation here.
"Scott?" Jase softly called out, his head falling to his chest, where he just lifted it from. Lifting again, with a scratchy sound coming from his throat, "Help.. .me..."
Walking up to Rob, Scott stood in his face', inches from the man he referred to as dad', a scrowl of a look on his face.
Right away Rob made excuse, "He was sassin' me around. You know he's done it before, Scott. I had to show the boy in his place. Show him some respect."
"And kill him at the same time?" Scott said boldly.
"Ohhhhhh my head," Both heard, from the `X' frame, next to Jase.
Drawing his attention, Scott turns his head, looking in Eynon's direction.
Seeing the minutes `numbered', Rob panics, throwing his fist into Scott's stomach.
"Ughhhhhhhhhhhh!" Scott belches out, dropping to his knees, moaning.
Fast, before Scott can get the upper hand, Rob begins pelting the twenty year old with Jase's belt, lashing his shirted back over and over. Crying out in pain, Scott scrambles across the floor, his step-father right on his tail. Finding temporary sanctuary behind a bondage table, Scott ducks down low, catching up on his strained breathing. It becomes a game of search and find, the thirty-eight year old hunter, wielding a leather strap of pain, Scott being the hunted.
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"I wonder what's taking Scott?" Tris questions, peering out of the kitchen doorway, into the gloomy, almost gray room, it's only light, the one coming from over the teen's shoulder.
Matt has taken the liberty of assembling a ham and cheese sandwich, wetting it down with his second beer.
"If you ask me," Troy questions the situation, "I sense something weird happening here."
"Ya think?" Tris says, sarcastically, venturing further from the kitchen.
Juan badgers Troy, "You gonna let that little punk sass you around?"
"For now," Troy says, more interested in following along behind as if using Tris for a shield, walking the dark hallway as Juan stays on Troy's heels. "Um, you coming?" Troy questions Matt, just as he is about to chomp out a section of his sandwich.
"Sure. Let me just..."
Two things inspired Matt to drop what he was doing; Troy's stare and the whole being which encompassed the nineteen year old. Matt was taken in by his blond, bushy hair, the blond forearms seemingly shimmering from the light, everything which encompassed the build of the handsome teen. "Um, never mind," he takes a sip of beer, leaving the sandwich behind. "I can pick up where I left off, later."
After brushing his hands of the floured roll, he hastens to catch up to Troy, on his way to seek out Juan and Tris. The trio nears the open door, immediately hearing yelps and shoutings of profanity, intermingled with loud sentences.
"And you know where this leads?" Matt questioned the two, brushing by them to take up the front line.
Even though the unknown lay ahead Juan feels a tingle in his loins when Troy, from behind, answers, "The dungeon?"
"Bright lad," Matt answers.
"Sounds like Scott's voice," Tris says, volunteering the first step down the stairs.
Listening at the door to the inner sanctum of the torture chamber, there is silence, followed by a choking sound.
"Oh shit!" Tris gasps as he sees father and son struggling, some guy behind Scott, utilizing a belt around his neck to choke the living daylights out of him.
Before Rob Friend can even register any sense of the trio descending upon the scene, Tris is bounding across the floor, his hand already forming the grip of his fingers, spotting the point he intends on impacting. Rob friend moaned, as Tris' fist to his lower back seemed to only stun. A hand swung away, managed to send Tris reeling backwards, slapping his whole bod against Eynon, affixed to the wooden beams.
"Oops! Sorry," Tris says, falling backwards on his hands, as the back of his head having targeted Eynon's pubes.
Meanwhile, Juan has already egged Troy on, to go at the strangler. Having more luck, the nineteen year old packs all he has into a heftier punch, following Tris' lead, pounding at Rob's back.
"Oh shit!" Troy calls out, as Rob loses his grip on Scott and turns on the blond. Then with an act of desperation, he yells, "Uh Juan, you want to do something here?"
Rather than get involved in the fracas, Juan tends to Scott. Recovering from his backwards fall, Tris is back in action, running, leaping for Rob's throat, hanging on as he grabs him around the waist with his legs. Still on guard, Rob kicks his foot up, catching Troy between the legs. Keeping his hold on Rob, Tris rides him around, as Matt is trying like hell to find to find an open spot to mortally attack and wound. The one in pursuit becomes the pursued, as Rob's fist connects with Matt's jaw.
As he falls back against one of the tables Matt's hand swipes across his jaw, producing red. "Nobody fuckin' assaults a cop and gets away with it!" Now, with a charge of adrenaline kicking in, Matt is in high pursuit. From playing horse to the seventeen year olds grip around throat and waist, has taken some of the drive out of Rob. Managing to back up harshly against a wall of the cinderblock basement, frees up his back, at Tris' expense.
"Oh shit!" Troy yells, Bouncing back from his stunned condition.
"Arrrrrgh!" Troy pleads, as Rob corners him, hands going around the college jock's throat.
"What tha fuck?" Rob says, surprised when a handcuff is thrown around one wrist, breaking his hold on Troy.
Forcing him to lose his grip on Troy's vocal cords, Rob fights Matt as Scott join forces, helping to round up two wrists around Rob's back, joining the second link of each cuff.
"You're in fucking trouble, young man!" Rob slings his worthless opinion at Scott.
"I don't think you're in any position to deal out the orders, `dad'," Scott tells him.
By now, Juan has released Eynon, working on taking Jase down from his bondage. For now, it's a standstill situation, Scott, Eynon, Troy and Tris, forming a circle around Rob.
"Are we having a problem here?"
From the sidelines, a monster of a man appears, decked out in leather, a harness decorating his massive pecs and taut abs.
"Uncle Blake!" Scott calls out, breaking the monotony of silence.
Following, Rob yells out, "Just in time, Blake. Round these hooligans up!"
All of them, including Rob, watch as the six foot, three inch man cowers his head to dodge the rafters of the basement ceiling, walking right past the circle to the figure on the `X'.
"You alright son?" Blake gently utters to Jase, going for the upper left cuff, seeing Juan having trouble reaching.
"I.... I'm hurting... pretty bad," Jase replies.
"I can see why," Blake assesses the situation, looking upon Jason's chest, surveying each welt crisscrossing his bod. Grabbing Jase under his arms, Blake effortlessly helps his nephew to a bondage table, Juan in tow.
Before Blake even turns around, he hears Rob say, "The boy had it coming, Blake. Y'know how teenagers can be, shooting their mouths off, disrespecting their elders..."
Doing a three hundred and sixty degree turn, Blake turns to Rob, enveloping him in his shadow, as he towers over the thirty-eight year old. With a bit more ease, Blake first cues Scott in, "Scott, you and your friends get your brother and get out of here."
"Ah, yeah... sure Uncle Blake," Scott replies, tapping Tris on the arm, to help.
Matt, Troy, Tris, and Juan stand there taking in the drama as it unfolds, as Eynon and Scott look over Jase. "I hurt so bad," Jase communicates.
Stripping off his tee shirt, Tris offers, "Here," shrugging his shoulders, saying, "will this help any?"
Scott cracks a brief smile, as Tris places it in his hands, as Scott makes a well to receive it.
"Be r-r-r-right back," Matt says, as he puts on his police office stance, walking back to where Blake stands with his `prisoner'. "I'm not on duty, but this doesn't mean charges can't be pressed for," making up his own misdemeanors, "endangering the welfare of a child, assault..."
Turning his head to Matt, the look on Blake's face is all the fear needed to cause Matt to back off, as he says, "Listen up.... you're gonna go about minding your own business and forget about what happened here tonight. Got it?"
After gulping down the little spit he had in his mouth, Matt casually replies, "Um... yeah... sure... I got it." With haste he scurries off to where Jase is receiving all the attention.
Then composing himself, as if he is the master and Rob his slave, Blake interjects, "Seems to me you had your chance at raising these boys. Maybe it's time for me to make a go of it?"
The first words out of Rob's mouth cost him a fist to the jaw, sending him reeling to the side, falling to his knees.
"Yeah," Blake's disposition changed from anger to what would constitute roleplaying for Scott, but his intentions had been more of a serious nature. "just the way I like my boys to service me!" Along with the harrassing words, Blake unleashes his pent up emotions, tearing open the snaps of his chaps.
"Ai caramba!" Juan calls out, seeing from a distance, Blake's piece in his hand, stroking.
"Twelve inches," is all Scott needed to give a hint to the others of the proportions of Blake's shaft. Seeing a look on Tris' face, Scott explains, "Let's just say Jase and I had more reason to hang out at Uncle Blake's house than here, in this dump."
Standing over near Blake, Matt, Troy and Juan weren't chased away this time, but rather encouraged to look on as Blake said, "Ever see a guy swallow cock?"
As Matt and Juan stood there, salivating, Troy became too aroused to be contented with stroking his cock through his jeans, his hand instead down the front. This wasn't totally oblivious to Blake, who was getting turned on by the attention, plus making his own list of who's who; top or sub. However, he dwelled more on watching the college age `top' stroking his meat. The three already voiced their opinion, but now Blake had attention drawn to Troy, as he stared at the teen's zipper area. "Yep, nothing like the feel of a cock surrounded by a hot throat, pumping in and out."
"Huh?" Troy questioned, realizing Blake's inference.
His broad hand on Troy's shoulder, Blake questions, "How about we team up... take him at both ends?"
Troy wasn't getting it, his hand freezing around his hidden barrel.
Coming out of his short, stunned phase, Rob slowly put two and two together, getting the gist of Blake's idea. "I ain't suckin' nobodys cock, so get that through your head."
"I guess that puts an end to that idea," Juan says, a tinge of his Spanish accent coloring his words.
With actions speaking louder than words, Blake pulls Rob up to his feet in one swoop, one hand taking the chain link of the cuffs, in his left hand, his right first plowing into Rob's abs.
"Shit!" Matt calls out, seeing Blake perform his own act of justice on the thirty-eight year old.
"You'll do as your told, boy!" Blake barks at Rob. Letting Rob crumble into a heap on the floor, Blake approaches Scott, Eynon and Jase, still laid out on the bondage table. "Take your friends and head on over to my place," Blake dictates, producing a key.
"Ohhhhh," Troy lets out a soft whimper.
With a toothy smile on his lips, Blake says, "except this one here," he makes the exception of Troy, who seems to perk up.
As Eynon and the others help Jason up off the table, Scott taps Troy on the elbow, as they watch Blake once again return to his prize. "Blake's the best."
"Huh?" Troy questions Scott's motives.
"He taught me how to throat a guy when I was in high school." Groping Troy's crotch, Scott assure him, "You're gonna love it, man!"
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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.