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 04 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
%
"Oh damn that's got to be the hottest fuck!" Steve says, after shooting his load deep into Rick's guts.
On the floor, Steve has just witnessed Hans pumping his cock into Wali's mouth, each thrust shoving it deeper down his gullet. But seconds before he comes, pulls out, stands at the side of the bed and shoves his cock into Rick's mouth, Rick taking it at both ends. Then, as if that wasn't enough, Wali helps himself, inserting his long, fat shaft where Steve has just pulled out, Rick's ass all lubed up and ready to take on another onslaught. And, as Wali was working over Rick's ass, Hans decides to get it on with Steve, the two kissing.
"Hey," Hans asks between a kiss.
"What?" Steve questions.
"I haven't done any whipping in awhile. When are you and Rick going to get it on?"
"Hmm," Steve thought, a renewed effort of churning taking over. "What did you have in mind?"
"If you've got someplace where we can hang him up by his arms, it would be so cool to weigh down his balls... you know, watch them swing as we whip him?"
His hand on his own cock, stroking, Steve replies, "I so fuckin' love that idea!"
"How could I tell?" Hans says, one hand on his own cock, the other commandeering Steve's hard erection.
However, their attentions were grabbed, hearing the two next to them on the bed, one thrusting forwards, pulling back, socking it to the other, till one explodes, small ministrations of plunging, a cock wanting to be buried deeper within.
Poor Rick. Well not poor Rick, him feeling overjoyed with having been fucked twice up the ass, once down the throat, even though Wali's football bod has crushed him into the mattress.
"Hey Rick!"
Wali rolls to the side, Rick responding, "What?"
"Get dressed. We're going to head over to the boiler room. Hans wants to whip you."
By this time everyguy had released their pent up loads, except one, Rick replying, "Only Hans?" Nobody was more surprised than Wali, Rick asking him, "What about you? You into torturing guys?"
Wali replies, "You okay with me stretching out your cock and whipping the barrel?"
Steve was seeing the writing on the wall. What with Hans wanting to do some ball torture, Wali cock torture, he saw no fear in having a fun time this college school year. Too, it was unusual to have two willing tops with such outgoing attitudes when it came to doing stuff to guys. Bonus, the two 'play' the part, tall, worked out, not to mention so willing to play along. Even though now he played their side, there would be a time when he would catch them off guard and have the two strung up for his own pleasure. He felt elated, the very idea of seeing the two, wrists cuffed, arms straight up to the ceiling and bound, shackles on their ankles, legs spread to the sides and their mighty endowments hanging there, just waiting to be 'used'.
After Rick said he was up for almost any cock and ball torture, the two sports-dudes gathered themselves, getting dressed quickly. It's the one problem Steve had, so hard by now he had trouble stuffing his cock in his pants!
%
When Rico and Mike, clothed, exited the bedroom, it was Mike badgering his colleague, "It's about time you came around 'coach'!"
John gave him a quirky smile.
"You score yet, gringo?" Rico asks Jac.
"Rico, we're taking it slow, okay?" "No offense!" Rico exclaims.
When discovered, they were in the 69 position, but both had compromised, facing the same way, still lying on the rug.
Mike announces, "We're going out clubbing. Wanna come?"
"Um, like aren't you afraid we're going to steal everything out from under you, Mike?"
Mike tells John, "If you need some cash, it's in an envelope, taped to the bottom of the scale."
After saying it, the two left, leaving 'two'.
Sitting up, lying against the sofa, Jac says, "I think it's good we're not seen, out together."
Lying on his side, elbow to the floor, his head parked in his palm, John replies as the other hand plays with the 'noodled' rug, "Ashamed to be seen with me, huh?"
"No!" Jac replied adamantly. "I'm doing it for your benefit, stoopid!" Then, realizing he's not talking with one of his frat buds, "I didn't mean stoopid."
"Why not?" John replies, rolling over on his stomach, doing enough of a pushup to drag himself to where his pit is over Jac's kneecap.
"Well because you're my coach, not...." Next, Jac had reason to forget everything, John dropping his head into Jac's lap!
%
Even though meant to be secret, eight years of the means by which students could supplement their scholarships, had been long enough for word to get around about the 'pay-for-play' parties, which took place once or twice a month, at various locations.
Tom Meciar, twenty years old, six-foot-two, muscular, dark brown hair, dark eyes, had taken advantage of what was promised as 'easy cash'. After his first night of 'pay-for-play', he was totally exhausted, having to skip a few classes over two days following. But those two days of recovery, mostly spent lying in bed, back still on fire from the whipping, his gut aching from the four fists using his stomach for a punching bag, sore balls and ass, he thought it all worthwhile, counting the hundred dollar bills in the envelope given him at the end of the night. Part of his feeling it okay, wanting to go back for more, was the sensation he still felt from his ass being worked over and over again.
"Oh now, that would definitely 'not' be for me," Jake Danzinski says.
"It's not for everybody," Tom replies, tossing the football to Jake.
Not wanting the opportunity to slide, if it existed, Jake asks as he tosses, the ball hitting the dorm wall, "I mean I wouldn't mind being one of the 'fuckers'!"
Holding the football stationery, Tom says, "Oh man, would you do me right now?"
Laughing, Jake replies, "From the first time I met ya, it's not at all the impression I got from you Tom."
"Checking me out, were you?"
"I was under the impression it's the first thing a gay guy is supposed to do when he gets to college? Do some scouting around?"
Returning to the subject of discussion, Tom says, "You would be one of the vast majorities, but you know what?"
"What?"
"Guys would pay tons of money to get fucked by a nineteen year old?"
"But I'm eighteen," Jake replies.
"Really? You look older."
"I've gotten that before," and with a slight grin, "especially when they see what I'm packing'!"
"When do I get to see?" Tom ends with a smile.
Standing at the side of his roommate's bed, Jake replies, "How up close do you want to look?"
It was a hint, Tom taking it. He was thinking, 'how different is Jake's request from some of the clients he has had?'. Leaning forwards, separating his back from the wall, Tom reaches for the elastic waist of Jake's gym shorts. Pulling them down, right away he gets an impression, "Oh, I see what guys have meant about 'big'!"
Joking, Jake says, "Don't worry. If you can't find it all in, I'll 'make it fit'!" He laughed.
Thinking Jake would fit right in, not his ass, but the 'play-for-pay' group, he replies, "I bet Steve would sign you up in a minute," and reinforcing his thoughts, Tom unveils Jake's massive tool and balls, "Oh yeah."
"I have a confession to make."
"What?" Tom looks up to Jake.
"To make a long story short, I grew up poor. If I wanted some of the stuff the rich kids had, I had to earn it. What better way than hanging out at the old motel near the freeway!"
Summing it up, Tom says, "I bet you had everything the rich kids had, huh?"
"Repeat business was the best. They knew what they were going to get, so they stuffed their wallets a little fuller before stopping by for a room!"
Tom was curious, "So how many men do you reckon you fucked?"
"Oh shit!" It got Jake to thinking, "Started when I was like sixteen and a half... five or six hundred maybe?"
"What?" Tom replied in astonishment!
"Yeah," Jake stood their, motionless as his cock and balls hung out, "I started once, then twice, then by word of mouth and internet hookups, it became my after school and weekend activities." Laughing, he says, "I told my folks I was playing soccer!"
"Didn't they ever go to the games?"
"Once. I told them I wasn't playing in that particular game because our class was on a special trip. Mostly they were too busy working to bother with me and my brother."
Entrance of a key word had Tom wondering, "Your brother? He, um...."
Running stats, Jake knew there would be questions, so shoots off, "Phil Danzinski, twenty-one years old, five-feet-ten inches tall...."
Tom interrupts, "Five-feet-ten inches? He's almost as long as you!"
"Five-feet ten inches tall, stoopid!"
"I know, I know. So is he... um...."
Rather than spell it out, him being gay, Jake says, "Best damn cocksucker east of the Mississippi!"
"He did you?" Tom was surprised.
Originally, Jake stood there expecting a blowjob to commence. Seeing Tom more interested in his 'bent' family tree, he turns about and flops his ass on the bed next to Tom.
Under his own suspicions, Tom says, "Well he must've, if you know how good he is?"
"We were playing one day in our room. We shared."
"How old were you?"
"I was fifteen. Phil was eighteen, a senior in high school. We got into a wrestling match on the floor. He claimed he couldn't help himself. He was on the floor. I leaned against the edge of the bed, hovering over him. He suddenly declared me the winner. My cock had fallen out of my pajama bottoms. I thought he was reneging on my win, him slipping down between my legs, then throws his arms around my middle. Of course what was I supposed to think, him starting all over. But by accident I slipped off the side of the bed, fell right down to the floor and my cock goes right down Phil's throat!"
"Awesome!" Tom exclaims. "Oh man, I wish I were there. Did he suck you to completion?"
"Uh, yeah. I didn't think about it much then, but afterwards, when we were in bed, I could feel some cum still in my cock, but I didn't have the urge to cum, so I guess Phil drank down my load."
"So was he doing you every night? Did you fuck him?"
Jake just laughed.
"What?" Tom questioned.
"This?" Jake grabs up Tom's tent in his gym shorts. Then, totally unintentional, Jake badgers, "You want me as bad as Phil wanted me, don't you?"
Right on, Tom had to admit it. No hiding the fact, his 8c as rigid as it was going to get, giving away his feelings towards the moment, him saying, "I guess."
More or less joking, Jake asks, "Do you want it nice'n'easy or 'rough'?"
"How would you feel sliding off the bed like you did with Phil?"
"Phil didn't have tonsils."
Wanting to get into it, no holds barred, Tom replies, "Hell with the tonsils, mow right through them!"
Only semi-hard, semi-soft, Jake agrees, "Okay, but first you have to get me hard?"
Normal top and bottom positions, Jake lay down with hands behind his head, Tom hovering some where above, on all fours.
Since he's been topped for like 'five hundred' men, Jake knew all the angles, instructing, "Why don't you get up here and lick out my pits first?"
"Pits? How gross!"
Knowing it wasn't gross, that men actually liked licking another man's armpit, salty and ripe or freshly cleansed, Jake pivots against his dorm bud, "Then I suppose there wouldn't be any tonsil-ramming!" he laughs, pushing up on his elbows, his bod on an incline.
"No... no... wait," Tom says, his palm to Jake's chest.
"Pits?" Jake replies.
"Yeah," Tom says, a bit with disgust, "I guess so."
No having done a guy's armpits before, Tom moves himself about.
Jake cautions him when a knee presses on him between the legs, "Um, wanna watch out for the balls?"
"Sorry" Tom replies. Then he gets a no-brainer, "Can't I start down there?"
Analyzing it a bit, Jake does get the feeling a tongue on his balls 'would' feel hotter than his pits being eaten out. "Yeah okay, but I might have you do my pits later!"
Tom scrambled down to between Jake's legs!
%
"Akkkkkkkkkkkkk!" Rick called out, followed by Hans' fist to his stomach, "Hough!"
So the uneven pattern rang out among the boiler room walls, Wali delivering a belt across Rick's back, Hans' punch to the security man's gut.
"Oh man this is so fuckin' hot!" His superior states, his pants at his ankles, cock in hand, enjoying the torture Hans and Wali are dealing out.
"More?" Hans asks, looking at Rick.
From behind, as Rick hangs by his outstretched arms, Wali has grabbed Rick's mane, badgering, "You can take more, right boy?"
"Yeah," Rick says in a breathy reply.
Reinforcing it, Steve yells out, "He take loads more!"
"Oh yeah," Hans says, his fist slightly pounding Rick's six pack, "he can take a lot more."
After ten or so lashes on the back, Wali assesses, "It's getting kind of raw back here," he runs his hand over Rick's shoulders, down his back.
Hans offers an alternative, "If you want, you can help me out here. We can alternate gut and balls?"
Steve has an even better idea, "If you secure his legs out to the side, you can alternate whipping and punching him in the balls?"
They both thought it fuckin' hot and by the way Rick was leaking fluid, they knew it would be to all of their advantages.
How Wali thought, as Steve was tying one leg off to the side, freeing up Rick's balls sacs, he flexed the belt between both hands, anticipating the leather striking underneath, thinking of the wailing affect his whipping would have.
Already Hans had felt the impact of his fist on Rick's abs, plunging his fist deep within, meeting the resistance of Rick's abdomen. Now he felt up his bare knuckles, thinking of the touch of fist to meaty ballsacs. It then occurs to him, "Hey Wali, I don't want that whip of yours making contact with my balled up fist?"
Partial answer, Steve offers, "It'll be a clearer shot to the balls if you give a yank on Rick's cock, Hans?"
"Yeah? So?" Hans questions.
But Wali acknowledged he would cut Hans a break, giving him just enough time to throw a punch to Rick's balls before he resumed turning his balls red.
All Steve cared about was the 'free show'. Too, he had it on his mind what the two college boys were going to say when in a day or two he played back the video his was making of their session of torturing Rick!
%
"Any good for an old guy?"
Sloping bod, Jac says as he looks face to face with his coach, "Age doesn't have anything to do with it."
"I guess not," John remarks, holding Jac's saliva-ed-up cock in his hand. "What're you about an eleven?"
"What does your throat tell you John?" And then it dawns on him, "John. I called you John."
"That's my name!" John replies.
"But you're my college sports coach?" Jac tries rationalizing.
Back at him, John replies, "But we're 'not' on college grounds?"
"I suppose," Jac accepts.
"So, you going to let me finish my work?"
Not saying anything, Jac lay back against the sofa and let John get back to his busy work. As he did so, it came to him, here he was, twenty years old, allowing a thirty-six year old, let alone his mentor, work over his cock. And allowing himself to let go of all inhibitions, he knew he was pulsing his torso as his hands found their way to behind his head, both cushioned on the sofa. He smiled. Later on he would tell John of the sounds he made, like that of someone enjoying a delicious meal.
%
"You boys want to finish him off?"
Rick hang there limp in his bindings, breathing heavy. As for the three of them, Steve had already blown his load, halting the motion while his hand, catching his wad of semen, fed it to Rick, but now Steve was offering much more.
"I think he 'is' finished off?" Wali said, pulling back on Rick's head of hair, the security officer's head bobbing back down to his chest.
Hans agrees, "Yeah, his balls are beaten, battered and bruised enough."
"No, I'm talking about the two of you?" Steve says, slowly massaging his own tube.
Standing by a table, Steve offers, "Why don't you drag his ass over here. I don't care what you do. Take Rick at each end or join forces and plug his ass?"
It sounded highly agreeable to the eighteen and twenty year olds, the two going right to work on releasing Rick from his bondage. In no time the had his back to the table, his head hanging over the ledge.
Steve announces, "Which one of you want to slide in next to me?"
Of course, it could go another way, the two college dudes claiming the ass together.
Hans calls it, "I'd like feed my sausage down into his stomach!" He laughs, moving his 9.5c, the head, right to Rick's lips.
"I'm ashamed to say Wali, it looks like you have enough there for both of us!" Steve backs away.
"Aren't we both going to...."
"Nah," Steve says, "you have your fun!"
Little did the two know, Steve didn't want to be in the picture, wanting Wali and Hans to be the sole stars of the video. Too, to make it look incriminating, he offered to tie Rick to the table, his arms secured, yet his legs free so his hairy legs could balance against Wali's shoulders. Besides, Steve would get one or more ejaculations in, watching the video later tonight. It would be one of the hottest videos made throughout all the years he's coerced college boys into playing for pay.
%
Copyright 2010 T. Chase McPhee
`PLaY FoR PaY' may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.