Giv2get

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 any state (21yo in Alabama, Mississippi, Wyoming, Nebraska), or in most countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such.

Following, pages of this story contain adult material', intended for an adult audience'. Bypass this warning at your own risk.

% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.

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^o^ Concluding remarks ~ reading this story could make you stiff or gooey, so I would suggest not reading it at work... just sayin'! :)

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Giv2GeT 05

WriTten by T. Chase McPhee

^o^

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Reason Dwight couldn't find Declan, he was kind of `tied up' for the moment.

An elaborate scheme, was cooked up by the guardian of James and Zack Black, a vendetta to get even, rather than placing Declan in the due process of law, dealing with crime and punishment the legal way, which would take way too long to extract vengeance. Besides, any amount of time spent in a correctional facility, would be more of a vacation than punishment. Perhaps this had been Harry Black's intentions, sending James to Camp Rufghup, but not with the brutal outcome.

A criminal of sorts himself, Harry Black had reconnected with his son, in a hospital, rather than having his limo driver pick him up at the airport. He and James had their differences, Harry hoping a tough camp experience, as opposed to being at home all summer, might be good for him, cutting away the rough exteriors of rebellion in the young man.

First looking upon James, at the hospital, Harry's first words, seeing James with welts on his back, across his chest, his stomach and face bruised, "Who did this to him?"

Fast forward a month from Harry's first look at his son, the Camp Rufghup board was faced with a lawsuit and even though papers were signed in the beginning saying, words to the effect, a client could not sue, money and power talked in circles where results could prove obtainable.

Using his diplomacy and freedom to act on behalf of Camp Rufghup, Ed smoothed it over with Harry Black, meeting with him initially, then two more times over the year.

Last meeting, held at a St. Patrick's day gathering of Harry and his in laws, the Irish side of the family, Ed flew all the way out to Los Angeles, was greeted by the Black limo driver and before he reached the Black mansion, he and the driver had struck up a friendship!

Other than the fuck-and-suck session in the back of the limo, Ed was treated as a highly respected guest. In the library of the Black mansion, he had drawn up some preliminary sketches. Instead of Harry pledging his son, James would reap revenge, he was sending his older son, Zack, to carry out the mission of proud necessity.

Looking down on the rather organized itinerary, Ed perused the list, responding, "Wow! I can't believe your son went through all this and lived to tell," looks up at Harry, "though I am very glad he did. How's he doing?"

"I have the most proficient doctors, the best psychological professionals working with him. They are doing their utmost best," Harry reports, with a tweak of his Serbian accent.

The board insisted Ed insert certain aspects of protocol, to make sure he covered their asses, saying, "Well I hope you are not under the impression we turn a blind eye to such experiences, Harry?"

"I am a defender of spare the rod, spoil the child. I was brought up with corporal punishment. I cannot say it is not effective. However, when a gay man treats a straight boy as if he is gay, that is not morally right," the father's finger is in the air, preaching to Ed.

Ed had to admit Declan going over the edge, taking things to extreme. He knew James Black was straight. He had brought up to the board Declan's successes were heading towards failure, with the trumped up practices of discipline. Why, he remembers Declan's first year there at Camp Rufghup, the other counselors telling him he was too lenient. Though, as the years passed, the more leeway given, the more violent Declan's methods became. Yet, the board did not adhere to Ed's recommendations, therefore suffering the consequences, when Declan stepped way over the boundaries. To the board, money spoke louder than Ed's complaints!

"Besides that issue, Harry and I'm not belittling your son's conditions, but do you intend on carrying out the same punishments as listed here? I guess what I mean, will your other son be able to?" Ed asks, after his index finger slides down row after row of things like daily whipping of back, chest, punching in the stomach, attaching electrodes to the genitals and nips, other...

"And one extra, which is not listed, but I'm sure Zack can carry out in his brother's name!"

It was left as a question on Ed's mind, as Harry had provoked him into thinking as such, "And that would be?"

"Sexual revenge, of course... it's one difference between my two sons. James is not gay, but Zack is?!"

"So," Ed rationalizes, "you're sending your son into raping a man, for the sole pleasure of seeking revenge?"

Harry Black had all the answers, "Not so as you think, Ed. You see, when I showed Zack the picture of Declan, he was engrossed in the picture of this man in his swim suit. He say to me, I'd do him', followed by, and I do not know this gay, slang language, but he says, I have to have him'. So you see, Zack likes the look of this man, so maybe he might want to have him around!"

Right now, Ed was thinking about it. He `knew' the gay-slang, what an immediate drilling operation was, as opposed to long term planning, saying, "I don't think Zack is talking about making you a grandfather," though breeding could be part of Zack's plan, something the father would not be able to fathom.

"What do you mean?" it confirmed Ed's thoughts, "Two men? They cannot have baby, unless... surrogate mother?"

Okay, so Harry wasn't totally in the dark, though Ed knew he wouldn't get the drilling bit, "So, at the end of the summer?" the unanswered question, Ed moved on, under suspicion, after his little chat with the limo driver, trying to talk with his mouth full.

"A fact I have not discussed with you, though I think I can trust I have your confidence on this matter, Ed..."

"Boy Scout's honor," Ed holds up two Brownie fingers. He was a Boy Scout, but got kicked out for sucking a leader's cock, along with the leader.

"A number of my servants are indentured."

"Slaves?"

"No. Paying off the favors I have done for them, then they are free to integrate into society," Harry explains.

"Oh really? How long is the limo driver indentured for?"

It became a wager, along with accepting Zack into Camp Rufghup, under the guise of a camper with a troubled family background. If the ad-libbed plan went well, Harry's 18-year old limo driver, Vlad Bick, would be reprieved of his worth!

So, the plan at the moment had fallen into place, Zack Black having already had his original plan thwarted by Avery. Now he would not have to slip a drug into Declan's can of beer, something Ed had initially informed Zack of, never without a can in his hand, during private hours. Ed had no doubt the s&m couple, they would be `working' beyond the cutoff time for campers, lights out at 8pm, Declan burning the midnight oil, tormented by more than Zack's wick.

Regardless, after Declan had squirmed about quite a bit, hands cuffed behind his back, realizing it was a case of `the hunter caught by the game', along with a few kicks to the ribs, he adopted something learned from watching action and war movies. When getting caught by the enemy, go along, cooperate, buy time, until the enemy slips up.

On his application Zack was listed as 19-years old, but he is 25. Standing there, in his signature straw cowboy hat, decked out in a culture he has learned to love and respect, black leather vest and chaps, he fit more into the role than his father could ever understand or imagine. He smiles, seeing Declan there on his belly, finally, after thrashing about for 15 minutes, lose momentum, the threat of reprisal dying out.

Smiling, he walks over, saying with calm, "I don't think you've had enough, boy!"

"Agh-hh-hh-h-h-hh!" Declan groans, receiving a kick of Zack's boot in the side.

"But I'm going to take it nice and slow on you," Zack speaks slowly, allowing the information to be absorbed. "After all, I believe your leader said you rather prefer 8 weeks, as opposed to 4?"

He knew either Declan was truly exhausted or faking it. Not letting his guard down, sure enough, the bickering starts up. Though, he did not plan to stand around all afternoon listening to Declan's gripes.

Unfortunately for Declan, he was not a good housekeeper and had left all his toys out on the floor, from when Dwight had visited him.

Picking one such article up, Zack bounces it off the floor before taking it over by Declan, saying, "Time to play ball!" he clenches it in a tight fist.

At first Declan thought it was his `balls', doomed to be beaten, whipped, clamped, threatened with weights or... no, instead he had a choice, either to open his mouth at his own free will or be forced. He knew how a man's mouth could be coerced into opening wide, to the tune of a man screaming from a simple thing like having his balls grabbing, squeezed, stepped on or twisted up. No, this wasn't the route for him.

Thinking too long, trying to read his aggressor, Declan does gets grabbed by the balls, "I only give one chance. You will learn that, the easy way or the hard way!"

As Declan learned quickly, seeing stars and eliciting the sounds of pain, his balls a handful for James' brother, how could he not bust his chops open, screaming with pain?!

"Next!" Zack says, after clasping the ballgag behind Declan's closely-cropped, dirty blond head.

He muttered his opinion, not that it mattered, but could not speak it, as Zack takes out a length of rope. With 8 weeks, if he chose to keep his captive for that amount of time, he didn't want to hurt Declan too much, right now. Therefore it became necessary to changeover from metal to something softer on the wrists.

"Need a hand with that?" came the strangers voice, by way of the front door.

Little did Ed know, Zack had the ability to make friends fast, as he did, with little more than a few hours at Camp Rufghup, handing the rope over to Orrin Masters, a hint to how he could help out, "And don't be gentle!"

"With pleasure!" Orrin replies.

At first Declan squirmed about, trying to grab Orrin's attention from behind the gag. However, with the turn of the tide, he was now cursing him out!

While Orrin used some of his Japanese bondage skills, imperfect at it, but effective, Zack set about cleaning up Declan's toys. There were many objects of desire, Zack smiling at some toys, grinning when he picked up something really devious, like the ball-squasher, a plexiglass item, double-sided, screws at each of four corners. He slipped a finger in, whereas he would eventually see Declan's balls, encased and pressed out to all four corners of the merciless device. Not something on the list he drew up with his father, Zack was inclined to go beyond the call of duty with this revenge thing. To him, the pain his brother went through, no man should have to endure, especially putting a straight guy in the position of a gay man, which it would fall normal, two guys fucking around.

It's not that it hadn't happened, a short bromance, but being considerate, Zack allowed his straight brother to fuck him and never the other way around. He smiles, watching Orrin do his bondage trick on Declan, thinking about James. First time his straight brother took cock into his mouth, damn well almost threw up!

The fond love which developed during ensuing years, even after James hit the rebellious stage, he went through it, loved him for whatever he turned out to be. Sometimes Zack was `there' for his brother, James never knowing it. But no matter how much he stood up to their father, something could not be changed, revoked, worked out, the reason James camp to Camp Rufghup last summer.

Oh well,' Zack chocked it up to what is done, is done', hurtling the last of Declan's primitive torture toys in the bag, 2 C-clamps. With filling both black duffles with toys, Zack's biceps bulged, lifting them, setting them down with a thud, "Done there, yet?"

"Yeah," he says, standing, walking over to Zack turning a cheek, as Orrin means to give him a little peck on the lips, "but don't forget you owe me!"

Orrin wasn't really his ideal perspective of a gay lover, but he had potential, where other ideas were concerned. He loved the BSDM lifestyle, wasn't reluctant to do most anything. It was fun chatting up Orrin, finding out specific details, like age, 39, how he got into bdsm at all, some experiences, pinpointing certain guys in Orrin's history worth remembering, for the fact they could `take it', whatever that meant, but which Zack could only guess, given Orrin's oratory of the types and levels of things done to guys.

To Orrin's `owe me,' Zack was sure, "You'll get your due. Is he ready for traveling?"

Declan screamed through the gag when Orrin pulls him up from the back. His arms tied behind his ass, resembled a square. When tying Declan, Orrin had rolled him on his back, on his stomach, back and forth to tether his arms to ropes running under the 27-year old's pecs, then fancifully crisscrossing the ropes over his stomach, a square of rope framing Declan's navel. Before he tied the final knot, Orrin strangled not only the Declan's two hefty balls, but also the base of his cock.

Zack says of his handiwork, "I hope we'll get plenty of pleasure hearing him complain about his bound up jewels?"

The reason Zack had bothered to even know Orrin, as Ed had not planned the two meeting. With two of the counselors quitting, it left only a select few to help the Black's out with their plan. He needed a security man, one who could look the other way, turn a blind eye on some of the things Zack had in store for Declan. Ed was sure Orrin was the man for the job.

He had seen the condition James Black was in, taken from the camp infirmary. Ed was ready to strangle Declan himself, if not for one of the board members being there, explaining to him they could use this to their advantage.

As it came to pass, it is exactly what happened, Harry Black footing the bill for not only a personal security guard, but also the use of an exclusive cabin, far out in the woods, away from the normal cluster. Of course there were other amenities, toilet facilities, which required utilities to be paid and the food bill. And since the Black family was loaded, Ed made sure he inflated the pricing to the hilt. After all, his last year at Camp Rufghup, it would be nice to walk out with a bonus, in addition to Vlad Bick!

Special, this living space was different than the other cabins, virtually soundproof on the inside, given the extra tacking up of siding. Guarded by electrical fencing, it also had a very large perimeter, a whole forest of trees for privacy, right up to the apron of the cabin. Going undetected, a covering of netting was extended over both cabin and the immediate area. In this area, Ed had to use some of Black's tuition to refurbish stocks, a whipping post, outdoor grill and some other areas, both established and new, according to Zack's envisioning.

A devious side to him, possibly an action learnt from his old man, Zack says to Orrin, "You won't forget to leave the gate to the canyon unlocked from 3 to 4 o'clock?"

"Got the key right here," Orrin holds up a circular chain of keys.

Walking over to Orrin, knowing he was using him, Zack puts up a front, hand behind Orrin's neck, reels him in for a kiss, saying, "Thanks. I knew I could count on you." After fooling Orrin into seeing things his way, he wiped his mouth off!

"No problem," Orrin replied.

Leaving the gate open, Zack would be bringing in some cameras, a cameraman, and one other member of the extended Black family, Casper. A special talent, Zack said he could sharpen his skills, practicing on Declan. Unlike Orrin, Zack did not mind owing his cousin a favor. Later on, after he and his brother had done some gay stuff, mutually, when he came to visit, Zack found out Casper was gay.

An artist, having just graduated from art school, Zack made sure his father's money covered a small salary for his cousin. Being an artist, it turned Casper on to the art of placing pins and needles strategically on a man's bod, arranged in order, to create beautiful art, at the same time modifying a man's skin surface area. However, for Casper, it was not just a matter of painting a picture, allowing it to dry and frame it. For him, the creation process was part of the whole, the reason he had brought his friend from art school along, Roahn, looking for any opportunity for sharpening his documentary skills. Not that he would be making this one part of his portfolio, still it would help him as he molds and shapes his career, eyes set on Bollywood.

Being Roahn would even think of capturing such images, Orrin asks, "Is he into what we're into?"

"Whatever Roahn is into, you have to ask him yourself," Zack left the puzzlement unsolved, "though, if you tie him to a chair and play with his balls, he might confess to what he's into?"

Orrin makes comment, "Mm-mm!"

All ready for the trek up the trail to the cabin set aside for special campers, Declan was stripped completely of clothing, including what separated the soles of his feet from the ground. He moved his feet deliberate and wise, knowing, with his arms tethered behind his back, if he fell, it would be right on his face. Still going on the fact there would be a slip up, he played Zack's game for now.

After several hundred footsteps, he sure wished they hadn't lassoed up his cock and balls so tightly. For every step there was a pull, a contortion. It seemed when he took a step with his right foot, the rope would slide around the top barrel of his cock, at the base and pull on his left ballsac. With movement of the left foot, the opposite would happen. For sure, Declan was sure his cock would experience rope burn. One downside to the whole ordeal, he knew the cabin intended was about a mile and a half up the trail. He was set up for some scorching pain.

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On their way to giving themselves a self-guided tour, a crude map of Camp Rufghup in LL's hand, Tom helping to read it, LL suddenly has a revelation, "Don't look around now, Tom, but I think we're being watched."

Naturally, Tom lifts his head to look.

"Didn't I say, don't look?" LL says, grabbing a stubby pinch of Tom's beard, pulling downward.

"Owch!" Tom feels up under his chin, "I hope I'm not missing anything!"

Looking down at his thumb and index finger, touching together, LL reports, "Nah," then changes his mind, "wait, I think I see something!"

Bending his shoulders, Tom looks at LL's hand.

"Gotcha!" LL says, bopping Tom under the chin with his hand, laughing.

"That's okay. Just remember the trainer doesn't have to do all of the rigorous activity the trainee has to do?"

"Oh now," LL sets out to look for forgiveness, making sure Tom's shirt is free of brown pine needles and any specks of dust, "you wouldn't make me do anything you yourself wouldn't do?"

Squinting, Tom was suspicious, "You know, I have a sneaky suspicion about something?"

"Oh? How would that go?" LL plays along.

"You know about the previous history of Camp Rufghup?"

"Yes," LL got all the dirt from his security manager, but still followed through on the training deal.

"Why am I under the impression you don't wish to be treated any different than those boys who are enrolled?"

"I don't know. Why?" LL replies, but adds, "By the way, I like it when you have attitude!" he smiles at Tom.

Tom says, "You're no different than the bottom boys who come into the studio for an audition."

"Really?" LL plays up himself, "Is it the incredibly good looks?"

"Looks?" Tom questions. "The studio doesn't care much how a guy looks or even if he can read lines like an actor." Motioning with his hand on his own junk, Tom says, "It's what's up front that counts!"

"Really?" LL says.

"Have you ever seen a porn movie whereas a guy has a little dick?" Tom puts it to him.

"Don't watch much porn."

"Right," Tom caught earlier, "you're more into the real thing."

LL comes right back with, "And you? You would more prefer whacking off to a guy on the screen?"

He thought he was being cute, Tom saying, "Present company excluded!"

All this time, partially paying attention to Tom, LL says, "You think we should call Dwight out from behind the bushes?"

"That's Dwight? How could you tell?"

"Those black suspenders against his lily white skin, except for the fuzzy stuff, is good indication?" LL replies, looking over Tom's shoulder.

Turning around, Tom saw that most of Dwight had been obscured by a multitude of leaves, but like LL said, "Hey Dwight," he yells, like the game of hide'n'seek was over, "you can come out now!"

Taking a step to stand next to Tom, LL gives Tom a friendly slap in the butt, "Thanks for taking charge, boss!"

He knew there was a hidden message in there and if not for their private chat, Tom wouldn't find much meaning, except, "Wait till later. You'll see how I can be in charge?!"

"Oo-ooh, you gonna bring out the whips and chains?" LL laughs.

"Sure and we'll play out the script of my last movie. Then I'll fire you!"

LL couldn't deny he wasn't feeling tinges of excitement, but with Dwight almost upon them, he had to face reality.

"Spying on us, Dwight?" Tom asks.

"Me? A spy? Oh no. I wouldn't even know how to be one!" Dwight answers.

"I think he's telling the truth," LL says.

"So, what's on your mind, Dwight?" Tom asks.

"You really want to know?" Dwight chuckles.

Tom gave Dwight a pathetic look, but LL asks straight-laced, "Sure. Entertain us Dwight, before we get bored with the business you have with us!"

"You're kidding, right?" Tom questions LL.

"No. I mean, here we are, out in the middle of nowhere, with virtually almost nothing to do..."

"I'm supposed to be training you, remember?" Tom says.

Dwight follows the conversation, LL saying, "Oh, do you know how?"

From knowledge of past summers at Camp Rufghup, how the other counselors treated insubordination, though saying it like a joke, Dwight tells them, "You going to take that from Mr. Justice?" Dwight didn't get on the first name loop with everyone yet.

"Hmm," Tom draws up a correlation, "`justice', huh? How would one of the other counselors handle this situation, Dwight?" he locks eyes with LL.

"Depends on the counselor. Nick would most likely give a first warning, but Guy, Orrin or one or two of the other counselors, they'd march the camper right up to the whipping post, they would! Tie their hands right up and then..." Dwight seemed to get more dramatic, holding his own wrists together, raising his arms up, "whip `em good, they would. Yep, after a few whippings some of their boys would be begging for mercy!"

"Yikes!" LL replies, faking scared-shit, worried about doing a Warrior event, shirtless, lines crisscrossing his back.

A question Tom has, "And how many campers over the years have been rehabilitated?"

"I don't really know," Dwight says, "but lots of times they come in here real tough, get the whip and when they leave, they shake hands with their counselor and get on the bus, except what happened last year with James Black."

He wasn't supposed to mention it, but being Dwight often forgot stuff like that...

He had planted it in their ears, too late for taking it back, LL asking, "Oh? What happened with James?"

It's then Dwight remembers Ed telling him not to mention this to a single soul, "Oh damn! Ed told me not to tell anyone. You won't tell Ed I told you, will you?" he pleads.

Taking Dwight under his wing, arm across the two leather shoulder straps which make up suspenders, LL cons him, "Tell you what Dwight, you tell us why you came out here to..."

"Oh," Dwight produces a clipboard, which was a dead giveaway for LL, him not being there to give them a lecture on birds of the area, "yeah, I forgot! Ed wanted me to tag along and write down any supplies you might need."

"Oh good," LL says, patting Dwight's stomach, hand retreating, "you do what Ed told you to do and then later we can do talk shop?"

"Talk shop? Like, what's that about?" Dwight didn't get it.

A few minutes prior, Tom thought himself as the man up on the pedestal, but watching LL command the situation, "He means what happened to James Black and any other details about campers of the past that Ed told you not to tell us?"

"Oh sure. I got plenty of stories, but you can't tell Ed I told you?" Dwight again acts jittery.

"Tell you what, Dwight," LL cunningly says, with still the affectionate cuddle, "you gather your thoughts, because I'm sure Tom here wants to hold onto his cock while you're telling us, and... you want to make him hard, don't you?"

Truthfully thinking, Dwight says, "I could think of other ways of making you hard, Mr. Achille?"

Tom almost slipped, mentioning `LL' could be one of the ways, but didn't let a good moment slide by, "Well Dwight, if you can talk with your mouth full..."

"Oh no, I don't suck guys. I fuck'em!"

`Who would've thought?' LL immediately thought up, this cub, with what would seem a chunk of his brain missing, could ever... "You prefer to top a guy, Dwight?"

Not hiding his feelings, Dwight says sheepishly, "I think you're hot, Mr. Justice and I hope you don't get mad at me, but I'd like to fuck you?!"

Tom says, "Nothing like cutting to the chase, huh LL?"

He wasn't a malicious person, yet common sense prevailing, LL thought no other better source for what has gone on at Camp Rufghup in the past, plus present details, "Um, just how big are you, Dwight? I mean, when you're hard as a rock?"

"Really?" Tom asks LL, thinking he was really `interested'?

"Oh, I don't really know how big I get, but one time I measured myself up to a beer can," Dwight replies.

Tom asks, "Was it a regular size, Dwight, or supersize?"

"Regular, but I probably could have evened up the tip of my cock to one of the tall ones?"

"How interesting," LL says.

"Really?" Dwight feels horny. "Like, does your ass feel like it wants me now, Mr. Justice?"

Facetiously, LL replies, "Dwight, what do you take me for, some kind of cheap whore?"

Under his breath, Tom says, "So it seems?"

"No, no, no, Mr. Justice. I would never think that of you. No, we'd have to have a date or something and then if it led up to it, then I could fuck you," Dwight tried eloquently to express himself, once more!

He's heard the phrase, `never say never', but under this circumstance, LL made an exception. However he didn't want to hurt Dwight's feelings, plus get even for what he thought he heard Tom say, "Y'know, Dwight, if you ask nicely Mr. Achille might take you out some night?"

"Really?" Dwight turns to Tom.

Repulsed by the idea, Tom replies, "Would be nice, but I'm `on the wagon'!"

"What a shame," Dwight, unafraid to speak his true feelings, obviously, addresses Tom, "and I bet you got a tight ass, too?!"

It was time to turn back to the matters at hand, LL bailing Tom out, "Uh, what it is you have on your list there, Ed sent you over with, Dwight?"

Getting the cut off, Tom picks up, "Let me see!" he grabs the clipboard out of Dwight's hand, when it was almost in LL's hand.

"Rude!" LL remarks, but wasn't really bent out of shape.

Dwight notices, "Hey, y'know, you two have good chemistry?"

"Thanks for the tip, `Dear Abby!'" LL says.

Deciding on one thing, `three's a crowd', Tom tells Dwight, "Uh, this is the kind of a list which will take more than five seconds to fill out."

"Oh. Okay," Dwight replies.

It was Tom's intention, to gain some private time with LL, but Dwight hung out, so he further instructs, "Why don't you go back and tell Ed?"

"Oh. Okay. I'll go back and tell Ed you will give him the list later," Dwight says.

When he's out of sight, out of earshot, LL puts his temple and `blows his brains out'!

"I agree, but he is awfully cute," Tom says of the no-brainer.

"Cute and supersized?"

Both laughing, they walk the trail from administration, back to their own habitat. The last two minutes LL and Tom had to run the route, after cloudy skies gave way to light rain.

Yanking the screen door open, Tom allowed LL to enter first, smack right into someone who had come to the door to check out the laughter in the rain.

"Umphff!"

Their chests slamming into one another, lucky for LL, Tom caught his bod on the rebound.

As for the other guy, he fell right on his ass with a thud!

"Holy cow! Are you okay, Jose?" Tom yells.

LL's friend, staring Thomas down, and up, replies. "I think maybe I broke something back there," he says, LL reaching for a hand, to help him to his feet. Catapulted to standing right in front of Thomas, Jose says, "You know me, but who are you?"

Right from standing, LL and Jose embrace in a friendly hug, a hand making sure Jose's rump wasn't bruised!

Intentionally, Jose say's for Tom's benefit, "LL was always good with his hands!"

"Thanks for the late news, but I've already had the pleasure," Tom replies. "Oh, by the way, I'm Thomas, but my friends call me `Tom'."

LL had a rebuttal all picked out, but Jose slips past him, grabbing up Tom in his arms, "A friend of LL's is a friend of mine!"

Tom was surprised, Jose giving him a juicy kiss and hands feeling up more than his ribs!

Watching Jose `get it on', LL says, "Why don't you just take him to bed, Jose?"

"Now there's an idea!" Jose breaks off his kissing, removes his hands from under Tom's shirt.

Tidying up, Tom says, "Just when I was getting hard!"

"You'll live," LL says, sticking his tongue out at Jose, putting on a nasty face, sticking up his middle finger.

"Some welcome," Jose says. "First he knocks me down and now the finger?"

LL beats him to the punch, "If you want, I can give you a live demo of what the finger is for, Jose?"

"Well, I don't know about you, LL, but I'm getting out of these wet clothes," Tom unfastens his buttons, parting his shirt.

"I'm with you," LL says.

"Uh, just a second," Jose says, "I'll be right back."

"Where's he going?" Tom asks, seeing Jose walk out the front door.

Seconds later, Jose returns, saying, "I better get out of these wet clothes!"

Walking past Tom, Jose lets his fingers trickle down the opening of his shirt.

LL says, "This is just the beginning, but you'll get used to it!"

"I sure hope not!" Tom jokes, stripping his shirt off his shoulders. "Um, I guess Jose is taking a warm shower."

"What're we waiting for?" LL replies, stripping his shirt, crunching it up into a ball, tossing it in one of the little cubbies.

"Yeah. What're we waiting for?" Tom mimics.

%

Meanwhile, Avery Taylor had sequestered himself in his cabin. Good thing it was raining, instead of being surprised someday by a big deluge, the roof of his cabin leaking in six places. Worst place, was over his bed. Stashing all of his gear in the cubbies, it sheltered everything from getting wet. Though, out in the open of the cabin interior, no matter where he stood, he either was exposed to faucet-like drips or when the drops bounced off where they hit. Avery scurried about, looking for buckets, but only had the cup he used to rinse toothpaste out of his mouth.

"Forget this!" he gave up.

Earlier today he had made the rounds, visiting the cabins of Billy, Pete and Russ. Of the three, he couldn't really pick out which one he disliked the most.

Finding Guy and Nick in the security hut, they were okay, definitely not into themselves, as the other three counselors.

Spotting something unusual about one of them, Avery inquires, "Do you always wear a whip over your shoulder, Guy?"

"Whip?" Guy replies. "This isn't a whip. It's a flogger."

"What's the difference?" Avery asks.

Nick, right away, smiles.

"Strip your shirt and I'll show you the difference," Guy laughs.

Nick says, "I could have told you that was coming, Avery."

"Thanks, but I had a feeling myself. Maybe later, Guy."

And he left, not finding out the difference between a whip and a flogger.

That was then, before the deluge. Now, not being able to put up with the `water torture', Avery went to get his poncho out of his bag, his luck, the zipper getting stuck. Fucking it, he headed out without it, on course for the only two he hadn't connected with.

Knocking on Tom's door, no answer, he didn't think Tom would mind if he stepped in out of the rain and stood inside until it stopped.

Well, it didn't take long before he heard laughing voices coming from the shower. Same layout as his own cabin, in seconds Avery was standing there, asking, "Sorry, but my cabin's leaking bad and..."

"Don't apologize," Jose walks right over to him, soaped up, "just get those wet clothes off before you catch your death of cold!"

LL quips, "That's Jose, the mother hen!"

"Or just an excuse to get Avery..." Tom was saying, when Jose helped pull Avery's shirt off.

They weren't even introduced, Jose's fist up to Avery's taut sixpack, "Oh my god, will you look at this muscle!"

Avery never thought of his worked out bod as being sexy, but since Jose was touching him, he thought it only fair to touch back, saying, "Yeah. Nice muscle."

Only, Avery wasn't toying with Jose's abs, but rather soaped up pubes!

"I like a man who sees what he wants and takes it without asking," Jose says.

LL says to Tom, "Wanna stick around for the drama?"

"Or go make some of our own?"

Coming out the hot shower, the rain had made the air turn `frigid'.

"Cold, cold, cold!" LL ran for the bed.

Pulling the cover down, the two jumped in. As they did, the bed lost its legs!

"Oh shit!" LL calls out, rolling over and falling 4 inches out of bed.

"Whatsamatter, LL?"

"You idiot, when you jumped into bed, your knee went right between my legs, that's what!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry. You want me to kiss and make it all better?"

"It's gonna take more than that!"

Helping LL back into bed, Tom says, "Remind me to put a new bed on the list."

"Yeah and make it a queen-size!"

"At least."

The request would prove more meaningful, with Avery and Jose finishing up their shower.

As LL had voiced opinion, running in from the shower stalls, "It's like the north pole in here!"

As with the first couple in the first bed, the second couple in the second bed created the same haphazard condition.

LL calls over, "How's your balls, Jose?"

"Full!" Jose laughs.

"Watch it Avery. The dam's about to bust!" LL warns him.

Tom says to LL, "You would know, I take it?"

Turning Tom's words around, as well as the gist of his meaning, LL yells, "Hear that Jose? Tom will take your load!"

However, Avery gets the last laugh, "Does that mean you're taking my load, LL?"

Jose gets a friendly idea, "Hey, Tom, wanna jerkoff to watching LL take both our loads?"

"No thanks. I'm good," Tom says, but turns to LL, "I guess I have an idea of how good friends you and Jose are?"

"Oh man, you'll never guess," Jose sits up, leaving Avery lying down on his side. "You should see LL when we went skydiving. He was screaming like a girl!"

"Shut up, Jose. I was not!" LL claims.

"And scuba diving in the Cayman's, like oh my god, we saw a baby shark and he wouldn't go in the water!"

"Oh really?" Tom says.

"I'm rehabilitated since then," LL replies, giving Jose a nasty face, then getting his own digs, "Not to mention how we were jumping off a cliff into the water and `you' forgot to let go of the rope?"

"Oh no!" Avery turns half towards Jose. "You collided with the cliff?"

"No, fortunately, for once in his life," LL says, "he followed my directions when I told him to let go!"

"Oh get out of town, LL. I listen to you all the time."

"Name one time," LL kneeled on the broken bed.

"More than once," Jose steps over Avery's legs and puts one foot on the floor.

"Name once?"

Tom and Avery shrug shoulders, like what's going on?

"I can't right now," Jose says.

"Because you never listen to me!"

It was a friendly argument, which always worked out, if one of them couldn't outdo the other, it would wind up in a wrestling match.

"Cool!" Avery says, sitting up, then standing, then getting into the fracas, "If you can't beat'em... join'em!"

Tom liked that idea and because they paired off at the time of the showering, Avery seemed to gravitate to LL, Jose going after Tom.

However, in a matter of about 2 minutes, the sun began to shine inside the cabin, which made things wind down.

Each had pinned the other to the floor, Jose sitting on Avery's abs, chaining wrists to the wooden planks.

To this, Avery says, "Have a seat!" a big grin on his face.

"I might. Just for you!" Jose replies, bending over and gittin' wit' da kissin'!

"That'll be the day," LL says, back to the floor, Tom toying with him, lowering his ass just enough to `feel'. "Go ahead," LL smiles.

"Be careful what you wish for!" Tom replies.

LL heeded warning, he's already seen Tom, soft and hard, knows the implications of the Greek's words, "Yeah okay. Bad enough you beat up my balls!"

"Oh," Tom says, "how are they?"

"Think, maybe they be needin' some TLC?" LL hints.

He was itching for some ass, but Tom, kind of liking LL, enough to think maybe pursuing something here, if things were going to work out, went on the assumption, to make it work, he would not always have to be the one on the giving end, but also getting, "Like, what did you have in mind?"

Saying, "Get up a minute," LL directs the scene to where each of them are laying on their sides.

Tom says, "If you wanted to do that, LL, would have saved a lot of guess work for me, if you had mentioned, '69'?"

Sarcastically, LL says, "I want you and you want me. What do I have to do, spell it out to you? And oh, for your information, I know what '69' means!"

They each had a luscious time, going at each other's meaty portions.

After about 3 minutes into the '69', LL had started coughing, coughed out one Tom's ballsacs...

"Are you okay, LL?"

"Yeah," he coughs once more, "something just went down the wrong way."

Tom is quick to say, "I hope it wasn't one of my balls?"

"Oh gee, I was wondering what that lump was in my throat!"

"Funny man!" Tom awards LL.

"Um, like is there a reason then why you're `checking'?" LL intently looks at Tom doing a spot-check!

"I wasn't checking for that... just... feels good all slimed up with your spit. That's all."

"Same here," LL says.

They stare at each other for a minute, Tom asking, "Hey, you wouldn't happen to be into depravation, would you?"

"Well, I did starve myself, trying to get into my prom suit when I was in high school and then another time..." LL quips, not catching on.

"No, no, no, not that kind of depravation," Tom stops him.

"Oh. Well, what did you mean then?"

"My last picture I made for the studio?"

LL recalls, "Bill Me, Kill Me, Thrill Me?"

"You're not even close. Anyhow, they had me tied down to a bed and four really hot guys working me over with their hands and mouths. Damn it, I wanted to come so bad, but the only way I could is to do stuff for the four hotties."

LL remembers a scene at college, involving a room full of gay fratguys, "What'd you have to do... lick peanut butter off a guy's nips?" he laughs.

Tom asks, "You happen to have a jar in your gearbag?"

"Really?" LL exclaims, "What else did you have to do?"

"Suck two cocks at once, or at least `try' or take two cocks up the ass, which didn't happen because the door was not built like a two car garage!"

"Oh really? Any like, baseball bat-sized logs?"

"No, but one took the handle of a baseball bat, all greased up, up the ass. How about you? Any foreign objects?"

Because it had moved from sucking to chatting each other up, LL turned himself about, saying, "I guess we'll save that for later." Then, his opinion, states, "I have a feeling you're not so much into sucking a guy?"

"Don't take this wrong, but I'm not really in the mood. More, it would be nice to lay back, relax and have `some other guy' do it!" he wears a smile.

"I'd probably do a better job myself after the sun goes down. Um, like what else is there to do around here after dark?"

Tom, his first summer at camp, says, "I haven't a clue. How about we spy on the others and watch what they do?"

"Others? I thought Ed said the other counselors were being made to stand guard over us?"

"Oh right," Tom replies, "toy soldiers!"

"Or soldiers with `toys'?"

Tom asks, "I have this strange feeling you are suddenly having a fascination over `toys'."

"I once had an elaborate train set?" LL jokes.

Tom snickers, says, "Before I left the studios, I snuck into bdsm wardrobe, rifled through the drawers and snuck out with a bundle of toys they use on the set."

"Oh?" LL bit a lip, like a person would question themselves, should I or shouldn't I? Quickly drawing his tongue across his lips, "Like, what kind of toys?"

"Portable stuff. Buttplugs, a few kind of floggers, leather cuffs, tens unit and all the wires and connectors, ball parachute... I pretty much cleaned them out!"

LL says, "They didn't have the cops after you?"

"It's hard for anyone to explain what was taken. Usually stuff like this isn't insured. Trust me, if I was arrested, taken to court and had to explain to a jury the items I took, I would surely name names of the guys whom I have had the experience using them on. Not to mention, explaining, graphically, how each item is used... well, could put some law enforcement at risk of getting, `hard?'!"

Smiling, which spoke as loud as words, LL asks, "So, you used them on guys, or...? I thought they used them on you?" he tries understanding.

"That's the way it was in the beginning, when I first came to the bdsm division of the studio. Then, some younger guys came on board and the studio thought the scene would look hotter if younger guys were working an older dude over with toys. After about 2 years, when that shit started happening, I knew my days were numbered. You try to be loyal to a studio, invest your heart, soul and cock and that's the thanks you get!"

Seeing Tom get riled up, LL slips down his bod, "I betcha I know how to make you feel relaxed?!"

He had as much as hinted of wanting everything to fall into place as it has now, LL licking his fuzzy treasure trail, on the way to the treasure, but something which he found different, while Tom relaxed, LL reached up and pinched both nips.

"Mm-mm, feels good."

Looking up, popping off Tom's cock, a trail of saliva from lips to pubes, LL asks, "Which part?"

"All of it!" Tom replies, catching LL's escaping hands and placing them back on his own pecs.

It didn't take long before LL get really choked up, but then notices, "Hey, the sun's out!"

%

Meanwhile, back at Ed's office, he was beside himself with paperwork, trying to juggle things around. Twice he stopped, splashed a little water from a bottle in both hands and ran his them over his face. He had about finished rewriting the roster on his laptop, matching up counselors with campers, which was not the chore it was upon doing the first setup.

With Chad Perry, Seppe Malta, Gregg Harmon, Jeff Laird, Jerry Wilson, Michael Gooding, Richard Smith, Scott Tanner and Jordan Hoolihan...

Ed stopped for a moment, tapped five fingernails in consecutive order on the desk, sunk into deep thought, opened Jordan's file and just stare at the 21-year old's picture.

Taken at the last San Francisco Gay Pride, there Jordan was, shirtless, a leather strap over one shoulder, holding some sort of bag. The strap happened to fall over one nip. The whole front of his bod had a sheathing of reddish-brown hair. Ed licked his lips upon eyeing up the exposed nip, but also a strong desire to lap at all of the hair, curl his tongue to fuck that hot bellyhole...

"Hi Ed," Dwight walks in the door, "I still can't find Declan to give him the message."

Waking fast out of his reverie, Ed's aptitude for detail kicks in, as he exits Hoolihan's file, "You weren't supposed to tell Declan, remember?"

"Oh. I thought I was supposed to tell them all, except Tom. Anyway, where do you think I'm going to be patrolling, Ed?"

`Dwight' is one person Ed didn't have on his agenda for security personnel. He had another plan in mind for the cub, saying, "Right now, you're security manager of my office."

"Oh. Is everything going all right?" Dwight asks.

Looking upon that shirtless bod, Ed, already horny from checking out Jordan Hoolihan's hot physique, from one cub to the next, "Uh, yeah, but I could make up something?" he smiles.

"Really?" Dwight falls back on some of the stuff they did in the past, "You want to do a scene or something?"

"How `bout we go out to your old man's shed?"

"Do I get to play the part of the dominant master again?" Dwight asks Ed, him getting up from his chair.

"When have you ever played any other part when with me, Dwight?" Ed pretty much sealed the deal.

Leaving the office, Dwight says, "Why is that Ed? To everyone else you're the big boss around here, but with me, you're like..."

"Butter?" Placing a buddy-to-buddy hand on Dwight's shoulder, Ed explains, "It's like this; everyone has their moments when they would like to be someone they're not, or in a situation out of the norm of their everyday life. I happen to find someone I can confide in, trust..."

"Oh, I would never tell anyone about what we do, Ed, even if they tried to torture it out of me!" Dwight says.

"Somehow, Dwight, I think you would like that too!" Ed laughs.

"I like that... I mean wouldn't mind it, but with you Ed, if it turns you on, I'll do it to you."

Ed wasn't sure all of that processed clearly in his brain, "Uh sure, Dwight."

When they reach Dwight's father's old shed, which for some reason, going back 30 years ago, Dwight's grandfather had turned it into a tornado cellar, even though there had never been a tornado in these parts and since the transformation none had whirled through the area. Though, for their purposes, turning it into a shed of pleasure, of which only Ed has the key, it became an exclusive playground for the two.

"Do we strip down?" Dwight asks.

"I am," Ed replies, going for the buttons on his camp shirt.

All Dwight had to do is unlace his boots, kick them off, upzip his pants, drop the suspenders from his side, take his pants down and `walla!', no briefs made him naked!

Both naked, Ed walks over to a cabinet, shopping for things he was in the mood for.

Dwight follows, holding whatever is placed in his hands, "Oh cool! You want some ball torture?"

"That's why I put the parachute in your hand, Dwight!"

Really, Dwight lusted to have the little leather collar placed around his own sacs, balls bulging, and Dwight had some good-sized monsters, and whatever weights... "Oh cool!" he reacts, Ed hanging the chain of nip clamps over a finger. Oh man was he really lusting to have them attached to his own nips!

"Let's see what I'm horny for..." Ed approaches a cabinet, each shelf lined with buttplugs of different lengths and widths. Turning to his left, Ed says, "Why don't you pick out a few, Dwight?"

"Sure," Dwight replies, picking out ones he wouldn't mind having used on his own ass. Though, he knew what Ed would be up for, this not being the first time he's worked Ed's tight ass, which, made him put back two wide buttplugs he chose, in exchange for slimmer.

While Dwight picked out buttplugs, Ed took the liberty of fitting his own wrists with leather bracelets. Bending over he did the same with his ankles. Then, announces, spreading legs and holding arms up and out, "Ready when you are, Dwight!"

Then, Ed had to laugh, saying in a blaming tone, "Dwi-i-i-ight!"

"What was I suppose to do, Ed? I only have two hands?!" he replied, walking over to Ed, clamps on both nips, chain moving about, Dwight with both hands full!

"What am I going to do with you, Dwight?" Ed says, squeezing the flat-mouthed nip clamps, ejecting them from Dwight's nips, noticing the wimpy setting, screws fully loaded with tension, which made the least tension available when placed on the nips.

Knowing this was Ed's last season, Dwight answers his question with a question, "What are you going to do without me?"

It hit home, the home of the heart, Ed saying, "I don't know what I'm going to do without you to look after me, Dwight."

It was really the other way around, Ed being nice about it!

"I know. I always took good care of you, didn't I?"

Of course, there wasn't a bad seed in Dwight's being. Like the time Dwight was `helping' to paint Ed's office and accidentally spilled the can of paint down the side of a filing cabinet, staying all night, not sleeping a wink, until the mess was cleaned up. Groomed throughout the years, there wasn't anything Dwight would not do for Ed.

Such was one time, Ed's friend blew in from out of town. It was mid-summer and although there were some hot characters on campus, there was only one person whom Ed could free up for some hot fun.

Knowing his friend was as devout a dominant top as being Catholic, it was the first time Ed allowed someone else to use the old man's shed. At the time, it was void of anything but normal things found in a shed; shovels, rakes, picks, axes, buckets, hoses, etc.

First thing on Ed's friends agenda, was to have Dwight strip down. Watching from the woods, Ed could not see this, but when he saw Dwight cleaning out the shed, his friend, Orrin Masters, wielding a flogger, it's when he saw what had been going on for all of five minutes in the shed. Each time Dwight brought something out of the shed, Orrin was right behind him, a flogger in his hand.

He could not refute the fact it was making him hard, especially when every now and then, Orrin would swing the fronded flogger over his head, like splitting wood, right down Dwight's back.

Especially, the drama, hearing Orrin yell out loud, "I didn't hear you boy," his cock seethed with creamy fluid.

He couldn't stand around all day, but for a good portion of the time in which Dwight cleaned out the shed, it took him over the edge, wishing it were him in Dwight's place. Then again, that's not how Ed and Orrin clicked.

Walking back to his office, Ed had a smile on his face, knowing if he had never met Orrin Masters, it would only have served as a delay in finding about his own masochistic tendencies.

At the time, Ed lived in San Francisco, within walking distance of the toy store Orrin owned and operated. It's like Orrin had this keen sense of knowing what a customer was looking for. Going back 16 years prior to this time, Ed was a 20-year old with a multitude of questions on his mind. If he had never walked into Orrin's store, with the drive of at least touching a pair of leather cuffs, feeling leather on his skin, well it would come eventually, but meeting Orrin seemed to speed things up.

Having a sixth sense of whom to trust or not to trust, which seemed to run fluidly apparent in each of them, it's with a calm nature Orrin flipped the `out to lunch' sign over on the front door to his shop and led Ed in the back.

It wasn't the first time Ed lay eyes on a set up, wooden x' frame, leather cuffs already attached to the outward planks of the four upright posts of wood, placed on a slant, which formed the upper and lower posts of the x'.

Ed recalls his first words of mistrust, after Orrin ordered him to strip, "How do I know I can trust you?"

After Ed listened to Orrin's orated speech, about owning the reputable business they were standing in, that when he let Ed go, he could run to the cops, reporting he was not there on his own free will.

Yet, after their scenario had played out, Orrin, who was three years older than Ed, had bound him to the `x' frame, whipped his back, got the endorphins moving, worked over Ed's nips and balls, then after releasing him, fucked Ed hard, released him and allowed Ed to dress. Ed found Orrin truly to be a man of his word, warning about others, not to trust everyone when saying they would let him go.

To Orrin's warning, "I could have kept you chained up in my private dungeon forever, you know?"

Ed thanked Orrin for standing true to his word. It would come back to haunt him, thanking Orrin at all.

However, going back to college, on the east coast, Ed took with him his memories. Several years later he would thank Ed, by allowing him to `use' Dwight. After all, when Orrin walked into his office those years ago, with Dwight standing there, same jeans and suspenders, no shirt, Orrin was the one who begged to be introduced.

When Orrin left two days later, Ed had a bigger debt to pay to his old friend, every cabinet of the shed filled with toys from Orrin's store. Matter of fact, after 12 years in the erotic toy business, Orrin was getting out of the business, having made his fortune and giving up on the neighborhood which used to be safe and friendly. It's how later on, a few years after he had first paid a visit to Camp Rufghup, by word of mouth to Ed, had claimed the two days he spent with Dwight, Dwight as his spokesman, was enough of a resume to get him an in, to award him a job as a summer counselor, the summer salary enough to get anyone through a full year of living expenses.

Though, even so rekindling thoughts of that time, years ago, of Ed in the dungeon at the back of his store, Ed saying he would come back and never doing so, Orrin never held a grudge. In fact, allowing him to work at a dream job, of rehabilitating men, mostly college aged, it carved a future for himself, always looking up to Ed.

Right now though, in this present time, being transformed from `counseling', taking him away from those youthful boys he's worked with summer after summer and placing him in a position as security officer, prowling the grounds, Orrin had to look elsewhere to get his jollies.

Happening upon the scene, the outskirts of Camp Rufghup, the isolated cabin in the woods, Orrin wondered if this was by circumstance or had Ed facilitated his meetup with Zack Black? Which, when he heard the purpose of his mission at camp, intent to get even for his brother's treatment last summer, at the hands of Declan Rodgers, well it got Orrin's balls boiling!

At one time, the cabin Declan had been incarcerated in by Zack, had been used as a guest house for Dwight's father and grandfather's visitors by the family. With Dwight's father using rental money from his leased property yearly, he had no reason to give up a life of living in luxury, elsewhere.

Ed would have taken up living in the guest house this summer, but his client wanting a place out, away from the daily bustle of camp life, plus an unnamed amount of bounty under the table, it was an offer Ed could not turn down. His last summer at camp, he could afford to live in a little less comfort!

Thus, walking in the front door to get out of the rain, Orrin chatted up Zack, "Oh, there's so much we could do with a prime hunk of beef such as this," Orrin ran a hand down the side of Declan's obliques.

He could see, couldn't speak, but it was known, Declan's feelings, begging for Orrin to help him get out of his cuffed wrists and ankles as he hung there, eagle-spread, chained to overhead beams.

It was sudden and quick, hearing Orrin's words, Declan change his mind, Orrin turning from friend to foe. If he could speak beyond the ballgag in his mouth, Declan would probably remind Orrin of all the favors he did, over the past few summers, for him, like, 2-on1 sessions. Right now though, Declan was too much into himself to remember Orrin had been instrumental in helping to wear down Zack's brother. Many of those welts on James' back were an attribute to Orrin's crafty means of handling both flogger and strap. With the gag though, it wouldn't mean anything anyway, without the ability to communicate the facts.

"I have quite a few of my own devices," Zack held up a small dildo.

Taking it out of the 19-year old's hand and tossing it over his shoulder, Orrin says, "You want to do some real damage to your boy's ass, we should take him over to the shed!"

"The shed? But Ed said the guest house would be the best place to reap my revenge?" Zack says.

A connoisseur of erotic play, Orrin, seeing the table with the assortment of needles and pins Zack's friend, Casper had laid out by length, picking one up, "I bet Declan's not going to take too kindly to having 20 of these little beauties stuck through a nip... the shed would be the perfect place keep his response within the walls and not outward?"

Before Zack could answer, Casper is on Orrin, taking the needle from his hand, dipping it in clear solution and replacing it on the sanitary gauze.

"You've done sharp objects with a guy?" Zack asks. After all, he wasn't always up with `whatchacallits', but knew what he and other guys liked, himself into the giving, himself in the crux of the equation, as much as his willful victim, cocks hard and leaking, moans of pleasuring and pain-getting.

"I bet we could make Declan into a pain-pig?" Orrin smiles a toothy grin.

Knowing how it could go, accepting or totally hating the pain and pleasure ratio, Zack's friend, Casper, thought it was worth it, what it would do for his own sex drive, "You have some toys of your own?"

Seeing he was winning them over, thought not Declan, Orrin goes on his own expertise, "A whole shed full and nothing compared to these kiddie toys you boys have here!"

Having picked up his collection of pins and needles off the pegs at Target, Casper asks, "Should I bring these along?"

"Baby toys, compared to what I've got, but we might need them after we've used up all my supply? Yeah, bring'em. You never know!"

Gathering up everything for the trek over to the shed, they were forgetting one hot commodity, Zack asking, "Any bright ideas on how to transport our pain-pig, Orrin?"

Sure he had ideas, but one in particular, seeing Declan all decked out in cuffs, eagle-spread. Managing to deface one of the pieces of furniture, a bench belonging to a long table, he reduced it to a long pole. In no time he had it wedged in, behind Declan's head, the ends in front of the suspended hands. It looked natural, like the ends of the wooden pole could easily be grabbed.

"I don't think our boy here is ready to do anything on his own. Got any rope?" Orrin asks.

Zack produces some clothesline, knowing Orrin probably had better quality, "Will this do?"

"Cheap imitation of the real thing, but yeah, it'll do," Orrin says, taking one end, feeding it through the loop of the cuff attached to Declan's right wrist, then wrapped around the end of the pole, up to about the elbow, tied off, repeating the same on the other side.

Originally, Declan had envisioned finding the right moment to jump the gun, get the upper hand, but with Orrin added to the scene, it seemed highly unlikely. His only thoughts of comfort, which didn't jive with the word at all, was having to take some uncomfortable endurance of pain, before opportunity would present itself. Though, he wasn't jumping for joy over being taken to the shed. Never having set foot in there himself, he's heard rumors from none other than the source himself, Orrin. Very soon he was sure he would not have to guess!

"There we go," Orrin nonchalantly reaches down, unhooks the chains from Declan's ankle cuffs. Removing the short length from the hooks in the floor Orrin announces, "Our pain-pig is already for transport!"

"I love it!" Zack exclaims, looking upon Declan, abs tensed and taut, though something which would cause any sadist an additional kick, his sandy-blond chest hair all sparkly with sweat.

Casper, with more interest than driving needles and pins through a man's nips, navel, cock or balls, says, "Great position for some hot gut-punching?"

Agreeing, Zack makes a fist, gives a little push-in above Declan's navel, "Yeah, but first some real suffering, like he gave my brother!"

Lying, to get further on their good side, Orrin says, "Yeah, I told Declan he was being too hard on James, but he wouldn't listen to me. I guess what they say, what goes around, has come around. I suppose after a few weeks, his bod will look just like your brother's, beaten, bruised and mutilated."

With those words, a direct lie, plus adding some fuel to Zack's fire, Declan tried to contradict Orrin through the gag.

"Bastard!" Zack yells out, drawing his elbow back and giving Declan a for-real punch in the stomach.

"Good one," Casper congratulates Zack on his handiwork.

"Yeah, good," Orrin replies, "but not great. I got some nice tools in the shed to hammer those abs. Turn'em to mush!"

"What are we waiting for?" Casper says, loaded with excitement and enthusiasm.

Casper was `hot', in Orrin's thinking. If he played his cards right, maybe he'd have the 22-year old's belly over a bench and fuck that hot boy's ass, though there was one ounce of doubt, but he'd have to wait to see what Casper's cam-man looked like.

It was a strenuous effort in itself, walking across the room with a pole bound to his arms, Declan stumbling once, but Zack and Casper there to catch either end of the wooden attachment, Zack saying, "Don't want to go and get you all tired out, boy!"

Orrin had a mutual feeling, silently adding Casper to part of his equation. More he thought on it, it was Zack's cousin which was more interested his tastebuds for bdsm, rather than Zack's vengeful campaign against Declan.

Declan couldn't believe ears though, halfway through the forest, hearing Orrin deliver, "If he can't walk, drag him!"

Although the forest floor could be soft on the knees, his junk hanging down, if they should pass over the branch of a fir tree, would surely feel tiny impalements. If a boulder stood up out of the path, depending if his cock swung up or down at the time of impact, his balls could receive a hefty bashing. In any case, he didn't think it would be any more debilitating effect, than what was in store at the shed.

"Here we are... home, sweet home!" Orrin faces the door to the shed, reaching into his pocket for a set of keys.

Casper, surveying the perimeter, "Doesn't look much like a shed?"

"More like a garage," Zack replies.

Declan saw this as an escape, not foolproof, not with his arms permanently stretched out east and westerly, but chanced the risk, swinging around and taking off.

In doing so, the pole whacked Casper in the side of the head, "Akk-k-k-k-k-k!" he went down.

Seeing this as an in, Orrin knew Declan wouldn't get far, going to Casper's aid, "You alright, kid?" he drew half of Casper's bod up off the ground, cradles his head in his arms.

"Oh man... nothing like a bad hangover without alcohol!"

"You're bleeding a little," Orrin went for his `first aid kit', the only piece of material available to wipe up, his camp shirt. Using it for a makeshift tourniquet, he tied it around Casper's head, the sleeves forming a thick knot. "There. That'll do until we get you some attention."

Looking up into Orrin's face, Casper says, "I like the attention I'm getting now!"

Was he getting mixed feelings from the 22-year old, on an incline in his arms, "Oh really? How would that go?"

Before Casper could further make any kind of intentions known, Zack had returned with their prisoner, shouting, "What's the punishment for trying to escape, Orrin? 40 lashes?"

"40? Nah, that's old school. Nowadays we go by the Iranian scale. I'd say be lenient though and go with 200?" Orrin says in everyday conversation.

They were on the same wavelength, their conversation and what they said, carefully chosen, meant to instill fear, Zack saying, "What's the choice of whipping implement?"

"Oh, well we want to keep our boy as fresh as possible. Eight weeks is a long time. However, after seven, if he still has spunk, we can pour on the punishment?"

Taking Declan inside was a slight chore, moving him in sideways. From there, Orrin showed how 2 chains, already draped over a beam, make a perfect looping for the wooden pole, in place over Declan's shoulder, in perfect symmetry, parallel to the floor.

"He's a little close to the wall for a whipping, isn't he?" Zack asks.

Orrin cheerfully says, turning himself on, his balls feeling the result, "If you can't whip his back, whip his chest!"

"Now there's a thought," Zack says.

Sitting there, because his head was still spinning somewhat, Casper wondered how it would feel, Orrin's hand on a mild whipping implement, teasing the soft blonde hair on his own pecs!

"Now, in this closet we have all the whipping implements and then some," Orrin takes on the responsibility of tour guide.

"Awesome!" Zack says of all the longer whips hanging down, short-fronded floggers, some very nasty looking, then short-squirt quirts and to the right side, where his eyes fell last, "Nice collection of paddles."

"Most like to use them on an ass. Me? I prefer to spread legs and work on my ping pong game!" Orrin laughs.

"I like that idea," Zack never thought of it, though wondered about Orrin's ping pong balls?

"Let me know if you need a live demonstration," Orrin says, still the jovial giggle.

"Nah. I think I'll get the hang of it real quick." Though, as he thought on it, Zack wondered how Declan's ping pong balls would respond, "You know, would be a shame to put a damper on all that screaming and yelling, punishing him first?"

"You're right and if your friend isn't up to performing in that modification video he intends on making, I think I can give a good performance?" Orrin offers.

"Do you think you can keep us hard?" Zack replies.

"Speaking of which, your friend has dozed off?" Orrin looks to the table, Casper's head bowed. Almost ready to keel over from the bench he sits on, Orrin runs, "I got him."

Seeing the needles and pins thing not happening right now, Zack says, "I guess I'll spread legs!"

Orrin instructs, calling out from the bench, where once again he cradles Casper, head in the pocket of his crotch, "There's panels in the floor, so we don't trip over them. Metal rings are underneath."

"Oh yeah. I get it."

So was Declan, getting it, the feeling making him try to break out of his bonds, which in turn made his bod tense, show every muscle. Any sounds he made fell on nearly deaf ears.

Sure, for Zack, finding the panels, opening them, retrieving the metal hooks one by one, securing the right ankle, standing, walking over to the left side of Declan's bod, taking the left ankle, stretching legs far apart, simulating a turkey wishbone, he knew it felt uncomfortable for his victim, hearing grunts through the gag.

Of this, Orrin says, "By the way, the shed is soundproof, if you want to remove the gag?"

"Cool!" the 25-year old replies. He didn't do it right away, knowing he would get a lot of flack, but would surely want to not miss the effect of whacking Declan's balls with a paddle!

"Oh-h-h, my head really aches," Casper sort of wakes up. "Wish there was something you could do for me?"

Orrin was surprised, but he knew what the look meant, looking down into his own crotch, seeing Casper in communication, "There is. I could always channel the pain from your head to somewhere else?"

"Might be worth a try?" Casper replies.

With his in', Orrin took full advantage, "Willing or unwilling?" which meant cuffed' or `uncuffed'?

"Cuffed. Anyway you want me," Casper sends a message, "sir?"

Zack knew his friend could swing either way and even saw it coming, right after Orrin stepped into their midsts, Casper's eyes all over Orrin, just knowing he zeroed in on the crotch, probably was dressing him down with his eyes. "Good. You two have your fun and I'll have mine!"

"What are you into?" Orrin asks Casper.

"Anything but hitting me in the head?" Casper cheerfully replies.

"For today I think we should keep it soft. How about lower bod?"

Casper quips, "Sounds good to me... and oh, except for today, and I think this'll get your balls boiling, I'm mostly no limits?"

"Mostly?" Orrin saw room for improvement, "Good time to find out how much you can take, with a professional to test your limits, wouldn't you agree?"

"Hmm, might think of changing my mind and not just spend the week," Casper injects thought.

"Forget it, boy. You're here as long as I am!"

However, just putting the cuffs on Casper's wrists, he was still feeling faint from the whack in the head, which prompted Orrin to say, "I think I better get your friend over to the infirmary, Zack. Do you think you can carry on without me for awhile?"

With Declan all trussed up in chains and ropes, feet spread wide, cock and balls dangling and a paddle in Zack's hand, he replies, "I think I can manage."

"Oh here, let me give you a hint," Orrin says, walking over to a draw, taking on a long piece of leather strap, "you don't want to get this in the way," he proceeds to tie it around Declan's middle, right above the bellyhole. "After all," after he ties it in a completed circle, takes a finger, loops it, holds it open and with his other hand grabs up Declan's cock, "there's plenty to do with this later, without having it get in the way of the paddle?"

"Cool!" Zack said, watching Orrin feed the tip of Declan's cock through the loop, separating the head from the barrel in a strangling hold.

"Also gives a nice hang to his two beautiful orbs, wouldn't you agree?" Orrin, knowing a little tap to Declan's balls would psych him out.

"Sure does," Zack replies, testing out Orrin's theory, touching the bottoms or both big balls with the flat side of the paddle.

Standing behind Declan's back, Orrin says, "There's plenty of room back here to whack those sacs from the rear?"

"Is there now?" Zack knew they were taunting Declan's emotional state, walking around to the back.

Touching the bottom of Declan's balls with the paddle, moving it forward and backwards in his hand, scratching the smooth orbs, it only serves to rile up both of their own balls, Orrin reaching into his pants, saying, "Yeah, give them balls some friction!"

Of course, for Declan, it was tormenting the hell out of him, very well knowing, at any second, the pleasuring of his balls could give way to unknown pain.

A `master torturer', at age nineteen, it would not be the first guy Zack has had the pleasure of toying with, though, ball torture of this nature has not crossed his path. He was getting the hang of it, causing some sweet moans from behind the ball gag, seeing fit to turn up the heat, slowly crossing the thresholds of pleasure vs. pain.

Sweat rolling down his forehead, arms, chest, stomach, legs, Declan tries to keep up with the pace, the paddle in his tormentor's hand, giving the bottom of his sacs little taps, scared shit immense pain would hit him at any moment.

"I think you got the hang of it, Zack, though if it were me, I'd have smacked those golf balls real hard by now!" Orrin laughs.

Casper didn't expect what he came out to the camp for, sneaking in the back gate to film a nice video of pec and stomach modification. Instead he winds up taking in the scene before himself, Orrin and his friend Zack, working over the man he came to see put to the limits of pain, something more than on the scale Zack's brother went through. Right now though, Casper cared less about needles or pins, unless they were in Orrin's hands, applied to himself, and the more he thought about it, the more Casper wished it were himself hanging in Declan's place, Orrin substituted for his cousin. Oh how he wished Roahn would hurry it up and get here!

"Well, y'see, Orrin. That's the difference between us two. I'm more into taking it slow and making it last?" Zack replies. He didn't mention, working pleasure in the gaps between.

Seeing the forest through the trees, Orrin says, "Well then, I suppose I'm wasting my time here."

Though, if he hadn't come upon Casper, he would still hang on for some hot times, working over Declan. Going wherever his toys took him, Orrin held no allegiances to anyone. Already finding out stuff about Casper, which he is sure he's only skimmed the surface, he addresses his new playmate, "How about we bounce over to my place and I give you some of that TLC you're needing?"

Casper interrupts, "Um, can you do without me for a few hours, Zack?"

Looking upon not only the paddle making Declan's balls do soft bounces, Zack also has used the other hand to pull apart Declan's ass cheeks, saying, "Take all day and all night if you want to, Casp. Just remember you only have a few days to play, and, you're movie? Oh, I hope Roahn can find us... and what about the open gate, Orrin?"

Casper handles both questions, "Roahn has a sixth sense when it comes to direction and the electric gate? He'll trigger it up so he can get his stuff in."

Like Orrin was running his life, he says to Casper, "Let's go."

"Aye, aye, sir!" Casper salutes and gets up without hesitation.

"Hey, take care of yourself, Casp?" Zack says affectionately.

"I will!" Orrin answers.

"Yeah," Zack replies, "me too."

It didn't take much to make Zack's cock surge to fucking potential and toying with Declan's balls only promoted the surge to overflow.

Temporarily holding the paddle between his knees, Zach reaches up, uncouples the latch on the ball gag, saying, "I want to know your opinion on how it feels when I ram my log up your ass!"

First thing out of Declan's mouth, whether he sought his own revenge against Orrin, was, "I never tortured your brother's balls!"

"That's not the way they appeared to me?" Zack says, still firming up his fuck-tool.

"I'm not the only one who played around with James. Orrin, he's the one into cock and ball torture," Declan tried lightening his sentence.

"Oh? And what part of my bro's misery can you vouch for?"

"Discipline and failure to do so, which amounts to one of two things," Declan confesses.

"The welts on James' back and what else?" Zack guesses.

"Okay, I confess to giving your brother more than one whipping, but you have to admit, my disciplining worked?" Declan, for dear god, hoped he was buying more than time!

Secretly, not even his best bud, Casper could tell, let alone wished Declan was innocent on all counts, though believed the strung up man's story to some extent. Unknown to any of them, Zack wondered how his dad was going to bring James back in line, his life having run amuck, disrupting not only his own life, but that of others around him. Would the brothers' father had resorted to the same type of treatment?

Declan was sure as hell surprised to hear Zack say, "Yeah, I think whatever you did, did the trick, even though I don't think wearing scars on a person's back for the rest of their life should be the means in achieving it?"

Pleading, but being truthful, Declan exclaims, "That was Orrin's doing. Me? I only go for superficial. There's a psychological way to raise hell in a guy's mind, with a minor amount of rough treatment. I pace myself. Orrin, he goes at it until a guy passes out.

"Oh? And what alibi are you going to give me, when it comes to pitting gay against straight, when one man doesn't have a choice in the matter?"

"I have to also vouche for myself, saying I'm dead set against a straight dude being forced to do gay stuff. You want justice, you should take your brother's rape up with Orrin," Declan says convincingly.

Zack exclaims, "Orrin, you say?"

Even though he was the underdog at the moment, Declan fake laughs, "About the whipping and some other stuff I put your brother through, you know, straight guys can like s&m just as much as anyone else?!"

Twenty-five years old, with just a year of the practices of bdsm under his belt, Zack questions, "Really? I never thought of it from that perspective?" He thinks about it, rubbing his chin, "Hmm, James into bdsm. Now why didn't I pick up on it?"

"So, can you just give me the 200 lashes and let's get this over and done with?" Suddenly Declan recalls what he's just condemned himself to, "Uh, how about 40, instead?"

"How about none?!"

"What the fuck?" Declan asks, seeking clarity.

"Okay, this is my final offer, 40 lashes while I'm fucking your ass," Zack says.

Something still was fishy here, "Yeah, right. Then what are you going to do with me for the other 56 days in captivity?"

"Oh, I'll work something out. Keep you as my sexslave, while I practice for my next Warrior event?" Zack says.

`Sex-slave', well that was better than having his balls the subject of the next ping pong tournament, or his nips used as pincushions, Declan reckoned, "Well, just to let you know, I've never been fucked and probably won't ever get used to it, but do whatever you need to do. One thing I want to say is, whatever you do will be for your own satisfaction. Do you really think James is going to care?"

"Nah. In fact you made me realize James is a dickhead who will always be a dickhead, unless he gets whacked in the head harder than Casper!"

Thinking things started to get easy-going between the two, Declan, thinking of a turn in the tide, shying away from 8 weeks of grueling, vengeful torture, figures Zack's proposal much, much better, "Okay, I accept being your sex-slave."

"Plus 40 lashes a day?"

"What?! No way!" Declan fought back.

With something up his sleeve, Zack says, "But you can buy back the 40 lashes with something else each day."

"Why do I think, no matter what I say, I'm going to get the raw end of the deal?"

"Oh, you'll be getting the raw end, but as far as a deal? I don't make deals. You take what's coming to you and then some, Declan!"

At least he wasn't being called, boy', nor pain-pig', which made the 27-year old think things were looking in his favor, "So what happens now?"

"Well," Zack still holds the paddle, "I was kind of curious how the paddle wound feel on the underside of your balls?"

He hated saying it, but Declan still understood the facts, him chained up, legs spread wide and Zack, free as a jailbird, thinking, if he ever intended on getting out of this predicament, his anatomy all in the correct place, it would have to take probably more then he could endure, "Do it!?"

With the rosier atmosphere, Declan still could not get out of his bounds, the pole still following the contour of his shoulders. So, when Zack decides to nix the ping pong practice for right now, opting to take care of his own stiff 9c, he's all up for a little lube job, unhooking the master chain, running to the two, connecting the log over Declan's shoulders, which causes his bod to bend in half.

"I think you know what to do, unless you want me to remind you with a flogger?" Zack toys with Declan's emotions.

He's never been fucked, but what gay man hasn't even thought about a tasty banana split?

On the other hand, as far as miles go, between the Black family mansion, seeing his brother attended to by a nurse and therapist, contrasting to how he felt now about Declan, especially with the revelation, James' condition not only caused by the bound man's hand, Zack had a softening of heart. Too, the lone picture in his father's investigative file on Declan, did not pay the man justice. He didn't see Orrin's name. Definitely not below the belt, nor as the picture did not show, the muscle physique under the plain brown camp shirt.

Thinking on getting into bdsm about a year ago, seriously, Zack's mentor, this dude at a club in San Francisco, once told him there were reasons why another man want to participate in something which others painted a picture of the bizarre., on his own free will, or against his will. Never one to enter a scenario which was not of a man's own free will, willing victim, right now Zack felt himself being tested. Taking on revenge, chiefly born out of his own grief for his brother, powered by his father's money behind the ensuing experience, some of that began to wear off.

"So you going to work me over or what?" Declan put himself in his own dangerous environ.

Walking right up to Declan, standing there, Zack outlines each of Declan's six pack with a finger, "You know, might have been fun working with you, at your side, instead of working against you, Declan?"

It strange, Zack standing there in leather gear, chaps, boots, harness, the one thing which seemed to cause comic relief, or rather break his mind free from imminent danger, was the straw cowboy hat, of which Declan finds himself asking, "Where did you get that hat?"

It threw Zack out of the boundaries of the scene which both have come upon, "My hat?" he takes it off, feels it up, bunching up the sides, "I got it at a rodeo up in Cheyenne last year. What of it?"

"Put it on my head."

"Whatha?"

"Go ahead," Declan with more rationale, "and you tell me if I look like some fierce, sadistic dude?"

He still held his cowboy hat in his hands, Zack thinking on it, about his brother, "I don't doubt James gave you a tough time last summer. He was having problems with our dad. He didn't want what I wanted, to pursue becoming part of family's business dynasty and the old man gave him a tough time over it."

"Yet, he's the one footing the bill to `take care of me'?" Declan says. "Now, do I look like a totally ruthless, sadistic monster? Am I talking like one?" Not right now. Cool, calm, collective, at least for now, while he wasn't getting his balls busted.

Inability to argue, the disposition of his captive wearing him down, Zack takes the cowboy hat off, firming it up, looks into it, like he was looking for something which could transform a man, places the hat on Declan's head, saying, "No."

"Fix it?" Declan `orders'.

It was a little crooked, making Declan look cocky, hat sitting far to the right. Reaching up, Zack finds the need to run one hand through Declan's blond mane in order for the straw cowboy hat to sit properly.

Even though he was the one tied up, void of his freedom, Declan didn't think Zack was capable of being a person like Orrin, or even himself, "Well, do I look like an axe-murderer?"

"No," Zack softens, "but you do look like you could whip the hell outta someone? So tell me straight, what exactly are all the things you did to James?"

"Other than a lot of verbal abuse, telling him he was an ugly son-of-a-bitch and a whore, mostly I whipped him, gave him a few sucker punches in the gut and..." and looking upon Zack, melt from a mean ogre into more gentle and sensitive person, possibly, hoping a forgiving type, "I'm sorry I fucked your brother. I didn't know until too late he wasn't gay."

"Yeah right, Declan. All the time you were shoving yourself up his ass he didn't scream it out?"

Thinking back, becoming adamant, Declan says rather sternly, "No, he didn't!"

"Are you sure?" Zack confronts the tied up cowboy. "Like, how many times did you fuck him?"

"Like, I didn't keep a stroke count in a diary, you know? You of all people should know, when the moment hits, you act out and like, don't asks a guy, `can I pretty-please fuck you' and wait for an answer?"

Slowly, Zack was getting some new impressions of Declan, like he really wasn't a mean, authoritative, disciplinarian, though sure, like he's done, could act the part. It turns out, maybe Declan isn't much different than any other ordinary gay guy with a passion for bdsm, other than he overstepped his boundaries, crossing over from fake to reality and it just happened to be his brother who experienced it all, "You know, I think you look all right in my hat?"

Going through a short tirade, Declan replies, "Why do you think I had you put it on my head, so you could form a different opinion of me and see I'm really not such a bad guy?"

"Only a bad guy when you're under duress?"

"Wouldn't you be, all trussed up and with no way to fight for yourself?"

Zack says, "Yeah, like I've been in your place, even though it was in a controlled environment of guys playing around. I could see where you could get scared-shit, especially with the likes of that Orrin character," whom Zack suddenly remembers his best friend, "who right now might be ready to do something bad to Casp?" he steals his cowboy hat back.

Turning to run, Declan calls out, "You might need my help?!"

He stopped short in his tracks, which made his unsecured cowboy hat fall forward, catching it and buying time fixing it back on his head, Zack bites his lip, thinking. Always thinking of himself as making the right decisions, most of the time, but under duress when he had to, situation coming out right, he turns around, saying, "I hope the big speech you gave me isn't a bunch of bullshit, Declan," he approaches the framed out bod.

Up until a few hours ago, Declan thought nothing about this summer season being nothing varied than years past. Times when his captors were not addressing him or his bod, Declan had time to think. Not only a way out of his predicament, but more the fact of even with all the clauses and protection Camp Rufghup offered. Still, something like this had to happen. He still wondered one factor, of how it came to be someone could walk right onto camp grounds and not be asked what they were doing here. Surely, if Ed or even some of the others had seen these guys, especially tied, tethered to a pole and marched through the woods, something was wrong here and he intended on getting to the bottom of it.

Now, feeling the guy who held him in bondage, loosening those bonds, he was thinking more along the lines of following Ed, this his last summer at Camp Rufghup.

"Your arms will seem a little sore," Zack concerned himself, even though, the bulging biceps visually in his face, didn't think it would take Declan much time to get the kinks out.

"A little?" Declan breathed, bent over, brought his arms together, intertwined his fingers, reaching to the left, overhead and to the right, flexed his neck muscles.

Still unsure about all this, Zack got his digs, "I bet James felt ten times worse when you let him down?"

Declan still wasn't totally free, his feet still attached to the floor, "I'm sorry about that, okay?" Thinking on it, the case being James aching from having his arms stretched overhead while striking his back with a flogger, Declan says, "I'm sure the pain I'm feeling now doesn't even come close to what your brother felt."

"He claims getting fucked was worse than the lash on his back," Zack replies.

"Like I said. I didn't know he was straight. No one told me and he didn't say anything about it himself."

As he bent down to release Declan's right foot, Zack was crippled with explanation, the lack of it, "I don't know why."

"You think it might be because he didn't want anyone else to know he's gay?"

With one foot still attached to the floor, Declan backs up as Zack yells in his face, "He's not gay or else he would have told me. I'm out. James knows I'm gay. Why wouldn't he have come to his own brother?"

"Well just maybe," Declan treads lightly on the subject, "your brother didn't think he was gay. Did he ever say anything about being bi?"

"No," Zack stood there, allowing Declan to lecture to him.

"Does he have a girlfriend?"

"I don't know. He's never brought one home on spring break, but he hasn't brought a guy home, either?" Zack tries defending James.

"Your father? How did he take it when you came out to him?"

Zack sat on the edge of the makeshift torture rack, exhaling, "He had always hoped the Black dynasty in America would keep growing. I can't say he wasn't disappointed in me, like wouldn't talk to me for about a month."

He wasn't psychologically inclined, yet from other peoples' experiences, Declan gathers, "Which, in your father's eyes, the saving grace of the family fell on your brother, James. I would say that's enough pressure on a guy to drive him nuts?"

Arms folded over his pecs, head bowed, Zack thought on it.

Declan, asks, "Okay, if I release myself?"

While in his sullen stage, not paying attention, Declan could have very well bent over, removed the leather cuff from his leg, helped himself out of the last piece of bondage which kept him from running out of the room.

"Go ahead. Knock yourself out."

Still in a state of confusion, Zack came to the conclusion, the only way to get a straight answer would be in confronting James to clear this up. With a little relief, his brother part of the solution, it gave him a rest on his conscience, which freed up his mind to explore other things, like the side view of Declan bending down, reaching for his other foot.

Standing, he met Declan, saying to the 27-year old, "You know, it just came to me and this might sound farfetched and kind of weird, but maybe James wanted to be in the position he's in?"

"How so?" Declan asks, once again loosening up.

With his ankles free of bondage, Declan made for the door, but not alone, "C'mon. Let's go. I'll tell you about it on the way," he steals the cowboy hat!

It didn't go ignored, Zack seeing Declan's endowment swinging back and forth, "Maybe he wanted to tell someone. For whatever reason, he couldn't tell me and someday I'll find out and surely he couldn't tell our father..."

"So, he picked me as the scapegoat?" Declan presents.

"Could be so and maybe all this `act' of defiance was just James' way of confessing," with skepticism Zack says, "he's gay? I don't know. I really don't know or understand it all."

In a light jog, Declan leading the way, he signals to the right with his whole arm.

"I sure don't," Declan says. "All I know is, last summer, Ed assigned a guy who was being troublesome. This is like so conflicting that your old man paid to send James to Camp Rufghup and then turns around and foots the bill to send you here to get me?"

"That's right!" Zack sees the truth of the matter.

"No disrespect intended, but I think your old man is a little more than fucked up?"

Now guilt set in, Zack feeling it, "I feel like maybe the paddle should be in your hand."

"What was that?" Declan turns, bends half over, hands on knees, catching his breath.

Even though Zack had plenty of time to study Declan's anatomy, hanging there between his thighs, it `looked' different, "I said... I was thinking, I just feel bad all the stuff I did to you and maybe you didn't have what was coming to you. I got this crazy idea I should be handing the paddle over to you, to use on my balls. That's all."

Zack turning out not to be such a meany, Declan says, "We could trade off. I wouldn't mind seeing how it feels?"

"You're as sick as me, you know?"

"No. I don't know, but will I ever find out?"

"Let's think about rescuing Casp, first?"

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Copyright 2013 T. Chase McPhee

`Giv2GeT', and developing segments of this story, may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.