The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, of continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns, villages, neighborhoods, streets, cul-de-sacs, nor governmental or non-governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if guy-to-guy sex stuff makes you barf or is going to screw up your mind, you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most states and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such.
% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
PLaY FoR PaY 11 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
%
"Akk-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k!" Hans screamed out loud as Master Klaus' strap caught him right across the ass.
"Oh yeah," the master said as a hand paved over one mound, then the other. "I think we're all warmed up now for some `real' action!"
More than any time in his life, the twenty year old 'felt it', the pain mixing with the pleasure of having another torture him and receive excitement over doing it. "Oh yeah!" Hans voiced his own pleasure when Klaus reaches between his bod and the wooden bondage apparatus to feel him up, something Hans has been having to deal with for the past twenty minutes at least, his hard shaft rubbing against the wood with each stroke of the lash, him having to fend off restraining his tall stalk from exploding. Now, Klaus' hand strokes from his pubic hair to the tip, drawing out some fluid, Hans groaning because he would not want to displease `the master' and fill his hand with the results of his pleasuring.
Passing the cum from cock to lips, Master Klaus orders, "Eat it boy!"
Feeling he could take any punishment from Klaus, Hans has a different hunger. The same time he is being egged on to taste his own manjuice, a cock tip is rubbing on his ass. He knows the choice he must make. Either more pain and punishment or the master claiming him. Now things have become a matter of preference.
Meanwhile at the other end of the room, five guys working on one has provided much needed assistance. At first, when they were giving Miguel the beating of his life, the thirty-six year old taking alternating fists to his gut, two men, keeping up the continuous action, each gut-puncher seeing if he could pack more power into his punch, keeping ahead of the other, it forced some information out of the moaning man, "I swear. I cannot tell.. You don't know what they will do to me!"
Davide, manicured in his three piece suit and tie, walks up to Miguel, his hand halting the action after the last punch has tucked in Miguel's gut, and says, "Will they beat your abs till they are mush? Will they pull on your nips with pliers until they rip off your chest, before I find out the information I am after?" The back of his hand massaging Miguel's bruised stomach and as he stares into his eyes, Davide renders, "I can't believe you allowed them to do that to your next of kin!" Pent up, the whole time watching his hired fists take on Miguel's punishment, hoping to derive some information, Davide's face matches his words of disgust and pulling his elbow far back into the reaches of air, delivers a driving blow, so powerful it shakes the two holding him back a foot or so.
"Uh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!" Miguel belches out, the surprise gut-punch sending him to a bent over position, as his bondage-holders loose their grip.
"Davide....." he took seconds to continue grabbing breaths of air, "I'm... I'm... sorry... but..."
"Save your breath," and in Spanish delivered, "you worthless piece of shit!" He motioned for the two behind Miguel to straighten him up. Walking over to one of the others he spoke in their native tongue, then walked away.
Miguel had learned of Davide's traveling plans earlier on and suddenly got the impression he was being left in the hands of his five goons. "No... Davide.... please... have mercy!"
Walking past him, Davide says, "Like you had mercy for Jose!" Hesitating, he casts his knee into Miguel's crotch.
Five o'clock, after looking at his watch, Davide snapped his finger, a habit to call attention. Walking towards Steve, Hector followed. "Get his attention."
Walking over to Steve, Hector grabs his head by the hair and lifts it.
Not as comatose as they think, Steve shakes his head, "You don't need me. Why don'cha fuckin' let me go!"
Said abruptly, Davide looks at Hector, saying, "Why don't you show Steve some manners?"
Lifting his fist, Hector drives it into Steve's lower back.
"Ahk-k-k-k!" Steve cries out in pain, his stomach dropping down, almost hitting the floor, in his flatlined position.
"What I wanted to inform you, before you so rudely interrupted me, Steve, is your friend Rick didn't show?"
"Rick?" Steve questioned. After all, being under quite amount of stress and duress, Rick was the least thing on his mind.
"Not to worry," Davide brushes it off. "My friend Klaus has a playmate, my men will be keeping Miguel busy and...." he hesitated for effect, "Hector will be keeping you entertained as well as...."
In between whipping Hans, Klaus has talked to Davide, told what potential one of the captives would have, under his tutelage.
Steve was wondering what Davide was up to, walking over and talking to Klaus. Of course he couldn't hear all that was happening, but Hector kept him entertained with a play by play account, "He's talking with Klaus, getting the final word him on whether or not to release the other fratboy from his bondage." He also gave him the scoop on Hans, "The other one... he's as good as Klaus' property."
"Property?" Steve wondered what the hell, but second nature to his own self.
Then sooner than later, there was Wali, standing in front of Steve, with Davide and Klaus. "I'm sorry I'm going to miss all the fun tonight, but I've got to catch a flight to Rio." Then looking at Steve's face, "Maybe another night we can get together and have some fun, Steve?"
"Fuck you!" Steve says.
Hector is ready to reprise his punch to Steve from behind, but Davide holds up his hand to stop him, saying, "Plenty of time for punishment later, Hector." He also called Hector aside, telling him he wanted Steve filmed, every place on Steve's bod where he is tortured and a separate camera focused on his face. He jokes, "I need some material to jerk off to!"
As Hector walked away he was already feeling it!
%
As they were sitting there by the pool, Rick pulled on Mike's arm to read the time.
Mike wonders, "Not that I mind, but yours?"
Holding up his arm, Rick's watch is like a sea aquarium, the water sloshing around.
"Strange," Mike says of it, "I thought all watches were waterproof?"
Strange is right, Rick thought, the reason why his watch got the crack in it, as oppose to why he wished to know the time. He says to Mike, "Remember what I told you about liking to be hurt?"
"Whips and chains and all that stuff?"
Taking a deep breath, Rick says, "At five o'clock today I was supposed to be at this place to meet with clients."
Not getting it, Mike says, "College clients? Applying for a new job?"
"I'll be applying for a new job alright, when Steve hears I didn't show up."
"I don't get it, Rick."
Another deep breath and Rick was off and running, saying, "I was supposed to meet with clients to get paid to be tortured. Five hundred bucks for two hours, extra if they wanted to torture me more, a tip if I performed well."
From lying on his side, Rick sat up, saying, "Sounds like that Play for Pay stuff Steve did with the sports teams last year, but hell, there wasn't any rough stuff. You make it sound like a medieval torture scene!"
"Play for Pay was controlled. There were rules. No broken skin, no permanent marks and nothing beyond what a guy could take. It was more role-playing. This is the 'real' ball game."
Thinking something worse than Play for Pay, Mike says, "Are you telling me, for you, they could mark your skin... well I hope at least they weren't allowed to break any bones!"
"Like I was telling you earlier, I can take pain." He didn't want to take this too far, because he liked Mike and they were hitting it off pretty well. "I can take a lot of lashes on the back with a flogger or strap."
"How many?" And not because he was sensationalized over it, "Not that it turns me on or anything." Though Mike `did' lick his lips.
"Lightly with a flogger, with some intermittent heavy strikes, about five hundred." He was going to tell how many with a strap, but Rick didn't want to push his luck.
"Five hundred? Whoa, I can't even imagine, Rick."
Rick figured that was it, the end of the road. An acceptance of termination and failure he says, "That's okay."
Mike could sense it, see it, Rick standing like he had to get on his way. "Where you going?"
"Maybe I should change and get going. I can hitch back to the ferry."
Not if Mike had anything to do with it. Putting his hand on Rick's shoulder, he says, "Aren't you going to stick around for the barbecue?"
Surprised, Rick asks, "You want me to? After my bizarre story?"
"My father might've thought it quite out of the ordinary, `wei-i-ird' to say the least, but something he taught me... I'm going to come across a lot of folks different from myself, different likes and different understandings, but he warned, don't judge a book by it's cover and yeah," and comically, but sweetly, "I want you to stick around, so I can get you drunk and before you know what's happening, seduce you!"
Not sure about it, Rick asks, "You mean after I told you all about...."
Joking, Mike says as they walk towards the grill, "Hey, you know.. I've got a brand new belt from last Christmas I haven't even broken in yet?"
Standing above Rick, hovering over Mike, Declan Walsh stands and as if the pool boy is impressing upon the desire to hightail it over to the grill, his fingers are tracing the tube in his speedo pouch, "They sent me over to tell you the weiners are done!"
Rick smiled with reaction, probably Mike thinking the same, saying what he thinks, "You know you're a big tease, Declan?"
Declan replies to Mike, "I know. Can you blame me?"
Reaching up, on purpose not meant to touch, but do some teasing, Mike says, "Hmm... I think I'll have `this' weiner!"
"Get real!" Declan responds, running away.
From the rear view Mike says, "Nice set of buns too!"
Skimpish on the asking, Rick inquires, "You, um... don't happen to... uh... like to pleasure a man's cock, do you?"
First idea to come to mind, Mike replies, "You never been sucked, Rick?" Reactionary, his eyes drop from Rick's face, to his pubes and back again for an answer.
Smiling, Rick says, "Oh sure. Plenty of times." Elaborating, "It's all part of it... the pain and the pleasuring?"
All new to him, Mike assesses, "Well, I don't know how all that works, Rick."
"But I'm not talking about pleasuring while... I've never had some real pleasuring while `loving' a man?"
Comprehending thinks somewhat, Mike he gets up, "I think we should get over to the grill before all those weiners are gone!" Rising to Rick's height, he gives a tender slap to Rick's cock and balls, "And tonight we'll have to see about `this' weiner!"
Holding Mike back by the arm, Rick says sincerely, "Mike, thanks for not turning your back on me."
With a cocky attitude, Mike says, "Why? Is there a reason `why' I shouldn't turn my back on you?"
A quick glance to Rick's pleasure center and back, adding a wink, gives Rick indication of Mike's thoughts.
%
Steve was a fighter and born with a will for survival, now the ideal seemed to finally kick in at age thirty-two, his situation bringing it all into fruition.
Standing in front of Steve's stretched out, erect bod, arms attached to the beams to each side, cuffs on his ankles stretching him firmly, Hector makes some assessments after winding a leather strap around one hand, his right, "I think you have great potential for what I have in mind for you."
"Fuck whatever you're thinking. Davide promised....."
Steve is cut off after Hector's hand finds his right nip among the sweaty fabric of hairy chest, tweaking it, "Davide will get what he wants... a nice video to jerk off to every night, but for myself," he backs off, walks away, showing his swimmer's build back, allowing the strap to uncoil, "but for me..." he turns, catching the other end of the strap in his opposing hand, stretching it out, "I think you and I will make a nice partnership!"
"Fuck, what?" Steve is totally shucked off base.
Possibly Hector had his own opinion, before Steve's idea of what a hot, worked out back when walking away from him, wondering what lay underneath the leather chaps surrounding the Latino's torso, covering the bulge in the front, but as for Hector, retracing his steps, he now uses the edge of the belt to tease both of Steve's nips, same time leaning in close enough for each to feel their breathing, "So what do you think about us striking up a partnership in both business and bed?"
Survival was key for Steve, so rather than blow the chance, he went for door number one and forgetting everything else, "I think it could work."
Hector stood there, smirking, saying, "Don't try to con me Steve."
"I'm not!" he claims. Then, to prove his worth, Steve rattles off, "I'm for real, really." In desperation, "I'll do anything for you... suck your balls, swallow your cock, lick your ass..."
"Or take a hundred lashes for me Steve?"
Stepping away from Steve, Hector held out the leather strap.
Thinking this would get him out of his predicament, out of the bondage, fixed position he was in, Steve replies, "Sure. Whatever turns you on."
"What would really turn me on, Steve..." Hector backs up.
Clamming up, fear taking over, Steve responds in almost a whisper, "What?"
"A tradeoff."
"Tradeoff?" Steve replies, feeling somewhat the bondage of his fears lifting.
Dropping the strap, Hector also drops to a squat at Steve's left side, unbuckling the left ankle cuff, replying, "For the longest time I've been holding in this secret desire. It has not been until now, I find someone worthy of sharing... of giving... of taking."
"You're not making a helluva lot of sense, you know?"
Hector, scooting over to the other leg and removing the cuff, says as he stands, "I already know what you can take Steve and in my own opinion you can stand a lot of pain and punishment, but still bounce back?"
He waited for a reaction, Steve quietly allowing the past few hours retrace the steps on his mind. On a mental journey, from the initial capture, various tortures being applied after stretched out in bondage, his stomach punishment and the uneasiness still fluttering in his ass muscles, Steve reflects on Hector's take over.
He can't believe it, Hector butting into his thoughts with an almost play by play account of his thinking, "Yeah, Steve," he places both hands on Steve's biceps, like reassurance, "you've made the crossover without even having it register."
"Crossover?" Steve replies with question. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
One hand drops to pawing Steve's abs, the twenty-seven year old Latino saying, "You took it really well and bounced back, something every man hasn't the stamina for."
Steve did reflect on it, taking all those gut-punches and now only feeling a soft hand feel up the stripe dividing his resilient abs.
"And to show you I'm a good sport," Hector pops the wrist cuff of Steve's left arm, "and see what potential you have..."
He didn't have to wait. In fact, Hector had expected it, Steve with two legs and an arm free, him to spring into survival mode, leap at opportunity as it knocked, not at all surprised at feeling Steve's fist plunge into his gut. From working out in the gym for the past ten years, his abs could take more than one punch, more than ten or twenty, without surrender. However, with intuition kicking in, he knew it was coming, but also wanted to keep Steve at bay, so play-acted feeling a mighty blow from Steve's heaving fist, crumbling to his knees and holding his stomach. Out of the corner of one eye, he watched Steve go for the other, restraining cuff.
"Now you're gonna see what it feels like to take punishment," Steve said, his bod fully erect and ready to take on the world.
"Guess again, Steve!"
Steve never saw it coming, Hector's fisting him in the balls. However totally a surprise to Hector, Steve took a falling leap forwards, his chest in his aggressor's face, Hector's back winding up plastered to the floor, Steve lying on top on him.
The two proceeded to roll over and over on the floor, till they reached Master Klaus' ankles.
Master Klaus swears out loud, "Oh fuckin' shit, what the hell are you doing, Hector!" Because, as the two bods rolled across the room and his Klaus in the back of the shins, he happened to have Hans decked out with his head and arms bound up in stocks, his cock firmly planted in his ass.
Both Hector and Steve stopped momentarily, Hector saying, "Oops, sorry there amigo!" fully acknowledging Klaus' slimy cock, plucked out of Hans' ass.
Then, the floor-wrestling continued, Klaus forsaking the action on the floor and holding his wet tube in his hand, fed it right back in!
%
Wanting to sound as an intellectual, Jac questions David in a snooty manner, holding open his textbook, "So, what does your research entail?"
Closing the book with a clap, David replaces it with a plate of salads and, "Weiner?"
Getting the connection, Jac replies, "Epicurean-ly speaking, sure."
On his mind, sexually, David replies, "If that's an invitation, I'd love to!"
Not sure where David is going with this, Jac already wise to the fact of his being at the minimum of ten years older than himself, he picks up the weiner and forces a quarter inch of the pig-meat out, saying, "Is this what you mean?"
"Dolphins!"
"What?" Jac withdraws his offer.
"My research. It deals with Atlantic dolphins."
Not making the connection fast enough, "But what about?" he presents the `dog again.
"Can I level with you?" David asks.
"Sure," Jac replies, "what about the dolphins?"
Each knew this was turning into a game, David saying, "Forget the dolphins. I was talking about myself."
"Oh really? I thought maybe you were talking about `us'?"
Smiling, David cuts right to his order of business, "I wasn't really studying my book when `you' stepped out by the pool?"
"I know!" Jac says in one breath.
"You do?"
"Hell yeah. Why do you think I gravitated to your side so quick?"
He didn't let David get a word in, although his mouth made the formation.
"I only didn't get far enough to complete my plan."
"Plan?"
"Yeah. I was going to dive in the pool, get all wet... `then' get out, swing my leg over the lounge chair, get you all wet and..."
"Hold on. Time out. Are you sure you didn't invent this to submit to some producer for a porn movie?"
"Okay," Jac admits, "maybe I took it a little to far, but from what I saw surrounding the book, knowing you were Declan's big bro, I sort of thought you looked interesting."
"So Declan filled you in on me, did he?"
From out of nowhere, the twenty-one year old appears. With food still swishing around in his mouth he says, "Oh course I did, bro." Hanging on David's shoulder, "You know I'm always looking out for you and your love interests. See ya!"
David did manage to give his `little brother' a swat on the ass!
Catching the swiftly bypassing of words, Jac says, "Declan's quite a character."
The conversation hesitated a moment, David very well knowing Jac knew what Declan had dropped. Rather than beat around the bush he cut to the chase, he sweetly says, "I'd like to make love to you tonight?"
Jac responds, "Is this part of your research?"
Everything fell off of Jac's plate, it tilting as David took the back of his neck and closed in for a sweet kiss. Neither seemed to mind, the salads and weiner at their feet!
%
"Looks like `I' win!" Steve says, pinning Hector to the floor, his crotch seemingly holding his aggressor in place.
"It does seem that way, Hector."
After dethroning Klaus, the two gotten to their feet, Steve quickly sweeping Hector off his and then jumping back on top of him.
Rolling over on his back, Hector managed to get Steve off balance and then with precision, like he was no stranger to wrestling, grabbed Steve up so his back was to his bellyhole, putting him in a hold which resembled a full nelson, only lying down, grabbing Steve's legs up in his own. This was a test.
A test of strength for himself, Steve managed out of the common wrestling hold and now Hector was paying the price by being splayed out on the dungeon floor.
"Anybody going to help me?" Hector asks the small crowd of fellow interrogators, torn away from the ongoing torture of Miguel.
Laughing, one of them responds, "No!"
Another replies, "We've got our own work to do!"
"Lost all your friends, Hector?" Steve asks.
He didn't, but in the opposite direction of thinking, his fellow business associates, friends, were leaving Hector in the dilemma, because they knew business' had transformed into pleasure' or rather knowing, when Hector had released Steve from his bondage, it was for other motives.
Too, Hector, like Steve getting punched in the balls, didn't see or feel a hand release its gripping of his left wrist, Steve's fist hitting square in the jaw.
In fact, Hector's `friends', watched with humor, asked, "Need some help there Steve?" looking at Steve haul Hector's bod off of the floor, throw him over his shoulder and walk to where he was decked out, arms and legs spread out in a starfish fashion.
The five who were still having their sport with Hector were glad to see Klaus leading his captive out of the dungeon. Long overdue for a release of pent up emotion, two dragged Miguel's bod over to the stocks.
Meanwhile, Wali was taking everything in and with no scene to call his own, asks the crowd of interrogators, "Hey, did everybody forget about me?"
Hoping to get in on the ensuing moment, the wooden beam being brought down over Hector's wrists and neck, his ass sticking out with purpose, he hoped to get in some reaming action himself.
"Why certainly we didn't forget about you!"
Three of the others took the hint as the undesignated leader eyed up the surroundings. Then, taking his lead, they formed a semi-circle around the tall Arab.
Right away Wali senses something, "Guys," he addresses them, turning, "I didn't mean...."
Before Wali knew it, the three were on him, but it required all five to subdue him, drag him over to a bondage table and secure his arms to the top with chained bondage, wrapping chains around his legs and securing them in place to leather cuffs around his ankles. They laughed at Wali's insults thrown at them, returning to Miguel. At least that's the way it went until the leader turned back, telling the four, "You have your fun and I will have mine!"
%
"Anyone see Tom and Theirry?" John inquired of the noisy crowd.
From some he got the shrugged shoulders of `I dunno', but one, Kellan, volunteers, "I think they're upstairs."
It's not how John wanted the barbecue to go, neither the idea of bringing them out to his beach paradise, rather have everyone join in on the daylight and evening activities and leave them to their `late night' fun on their own.
"Okay," he accepted, but headed towards the house in hope of flushing them out to the evening meal. Passing by the front door, he hears the little brass knocker pound on it.
"Yes?" he asks, thinking it an advertiser and if so, what of importance they are selling, since they had to take the ferry to get to his dwelling in the first place, which was rather costly.
"Are you John," he reads off the 8x10 envelope, "Stahl?"
Rather than acknowledge himself, John would rather stand there and study the man, but didn't want to seem awkward, "That's me!"
And that voice! "I'm really sorry to be delivering your mail so late and... well I thought I should personally apologize rather than you..."
`Is this guy fuckin' crazy?' John thought comically to himself, wanting to study every detail of the dark-haired man, standing about an inch taller than himself. "Oh no need," he humbly replied.
"Oh. Okay, then I'll just leave the mail here for you," he pulls out of the weather-beaten, wooden box and places it in John's hand.
For once in his life, John was so glad Declan butted in, saying, "I think we're out of weiners!"
Standing there naked from head to toe and holding an empty platter, John could see the writing on the wall, the letter carrier almost salivating as he took in the sight of the twenty-year old.
John whimsically asks, "This is your last stop, right?" He already knew.
"Yeah," came his quiet reply. Then realizing he pay too much attention to Declan, pays mind to John, saying, "Uh yeah." Too, he realizes he hasn't fully explained, "I'm Mason Thomas, in case you haven't guessed already I'm not your usual carrier?"
Sensing nervousness, John replies, "It's so good to meet you," offering a handshake.
Declan on the hand, with no fear, says, "Hey, why don't you come on in, take your clothes off and join the party?"
He blushed.
John turns to the empty plate, "Uh, Declan, there's more hot dogs in the freezer?"
"Sure," Declan replies, headed off for the freezer, his face still towards the door.
Half the attendees at the barbecue were bottomless, the other showing their full assault gear. John chose a speedo and to his appearance Mason says, making obvious he was checking John out, "I think I could stand a bite to eat?"
%
Copyright 2010 T. Chase McPhee
`PLaY FoR PaY' may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.
The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness! TCMcP.....