% This work of fiction is set in the format of real-world situations. Identifying details to real people, alive or dead, is entirely coincidental in nature. If a character from this story happens to have the same first name, use it to your advantage and put yourself in his place. The author is not responsible for leakage.
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Give till it hurts...and if that's not enough, get with some s&m!
'YoGA MaT' 13
WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
%
Nadav, about to enter the shower area with Mat, throws hands up in the air at the sound of his cellphone chiming, "why now?"
Having a business, Mat knows the importance of a call, that at home he could drop anything to answer, but at work, work was work, "you better get that."
Not which he had a choice, being on call, Nadav he opens the locker never bothering to lock it, does the face-id thing and answers.
While conferring with the called, Mat sneaks over, behind and even thought he could not fir over the tall man's shoulders, has no problem reaching around, as his chest and cock meet the psych's back and ass.
Not which it didn't feel good, Nadav turns around, mouthing, `really, Mat?'
However, the smile attached, tells Mat he's not really in trouble for his actions. Then Mat hears the name, `Dunc' mentioned, thinking this could be a steamy explanation to follow.
When Nadav hangs up, Mat makes mention, "I didn't know you knew Duncan Balderston?"
"You know of him?" Nadav finds a pair of briefs in his locker.
"I just hired him for landscaping the new gym." More on Mat's mind, "I guess you're not staying?"
"I'll have to take a raincheck. Dunc needs my attention for a dire matter involving another lost, runaway kid, apparently unable to know the difference between what is fantasy and what is real. It's complicated."
"Not so," Mat says, explaining, "I've got Tom to put up with, you know?"
It makes Nadav snicker, "not quite like I was thinking. Oh, by the way, Dunc says, if I see you, he and Tom are at the Sebastian Mission."
"Can't be. Must be another Tom. Tom and the gang are headed to Braddock's in the city."
"Nope. I did hear in the background something of an introduction and positive I heard, `Tom McCormick'."
"Hm," Mat thinks on it, playing with his active shaft. "I wonder what he's doing at a mission?"
"You know of Sebastian Mission?"
"Not really."
Nadav explains as he dresses, "it's been about ten years that the mission was about to shutter its doors due to lack of funding. A neighborhood club too over, bringing their kinky get togethers to a permanent location, instead of alternating homes."
"What about the mission?"
"This is where the owners got creative conducting dungeon experiences in the basement, while the upper floors still serve as a mission. Very exclusive, you can only get into the underground darkrooms, if you know a guy who already involves himself in the playground. It's not free, but the fee they charge goes directly to the mission cause."
Almost to the point of total infatuation for Nadav's dark, mossy bod and pubes, the big dick, not to mention tight ass, Mat's curiosity gets the best of him, "a way for you to work out some of your fantasy's, Nadav?"
Smiling, Nadav says, "hey, I'm just as human as the next guy!"
They parted company, but about the not mixing business with pleasure, Nadav says, "rules, they're meant to be broken when the situation calls for it, especially when being invited to one of your house parties, I'm sure it will be a great place to hand out business cards?"
Mat smiles when Nadav gives him a wink!
%
Meanwhile, in Weehawken, the gang is surprised when Duncan meets up with his old friend, "Don Pasquale, what the hell are you doing here?"
They had descended the stairs to the lower recesses of the Sebastian Mission building and upon opening a heavy metal door, Duncan is met face to face with his bud.
Greeting Duncan with most of his shirt unbuttoned, Don says, "hell, what are you waiting for? Get naked and let's start playing!"
He also notices some fine young and older men following!
"Oh, we're not here to play. My friends here are looking for goods."
Don, a very chipper, middle-aged, forty-four year old man smiles, lighting up his handsome chops, "well, you know in order to buy, you should sample the goods?"
Tom steps up to the calling, flexing both arms, "if you happen to need a muscle-cub, I'm your man!"
Poor Tom, Don Pasquale already had his eyes set on the `other' cub, skipping over to where Elton stands, holding a flogger, "if you want to see how that item works, I'm sure we can find someone to work on?"
Laying eyes on the over-six-footer, decked out in leather, Elton says, "I'd really love to try on what you're wearing?"
Duncan couldn't wait for Nadav to get there, when he hears Dean say, "I'm willing to help out. I'd love for a man like you to torture me."
"Is that so?" Don mulls over the smooth lad. Right off he knew something was wrong with the approach, but also enthralled by the looks, the stature, the pure nature of the smooth chest, enough to run hands over the pecs, one sliding down to the belt line.
Lance was confused for the second time. At first he thought Daan had a sole interest in himself, but then seemed to drop him for Duncan, just because he represented the idol he was searching for. Now, he wondered what Duncan was feeling, being Daan targeted Don Pasquale.
Don didn't make mention by name, Dr. Nadav, "oh really? Well, I have a really hot master due here in about a half hour, who I am sure you will be pleasantly overwhelmed by his method of torture."
In total disillusionment, Daan's whole face brightens up, "really? He likes inflicting pain?"
"He has his way of deriving pleasure from administering it. Every man has his alpha, or can be an alpha mate. I think that's for you and my friend to find out."
"Hm," Daan thinks on it. "I never thought of myself as an alpha." Apparently he didn't know the implications, "does the alpha like taking pain?"
"I think that's for my friend to decide. Meanwhile, why don't you get out of those clothes and I'll set you up in some bondage, all ready for when he gets here."
A bit jealous, especially since he's been passed over, "um, got some ideas about how to bind me to one of your apparatuses?"
Truthfully, Don Pasquale was sorry he passed over Tom, liking to play with not only pudgy guys, but musclemen, his specialty, "what are you waiting for, boy? Get outta them duds. I can't wait to get my hands on you!"
"Hot diggity!" Tom responds in saying and stripping.
He, Don Pasquale had started placing cuffs on Dean's wrist, only to have Jared Ahmad come over and offer, "mind if I do the honors, Don?"
Making sure Daan was listening up, "don't mind at all. Just make sure you're careful with the merchandise. You know how Nadav doesn't like damaged goods," he laughs, "before he damages them!"
Jared chuckles, taking up another cuff and placing it over Daan's left wrist, coupling the leather and then placing it over the opposite hook from the right wrist.
Showing a little imbalance, Daan once again shifts his focus, "cool, are you going to torture me, or are you and this other alpha guy going to do me together?"
"Oh no, our friend works alone."
"Oh," Daan says, with obvious disappointment. "I really like the way you look."
Jared smiles, saying, "oh, and what is it about me that turns you on?"
One of the things Dr. Tor requested of Don, not the first time he's been to the mission for psychiatric counseling, is to keep the would be patient contented. He would work his magic when he got there.
"I love hairy guys. You're like, the most beautiful man I've seen. I could spend hours licking your chest, your stomach, and the rest. Oh man, how deep is your navel? I love digging my tongue into a deep navel."
Giggling, Jared says, "well, I don't rightly think anyone has ever asked me that question!"
Not to say Jared wasn't entertained!
"Could you check?"
Could I check?' Jared questions, wondering how', "well, I suppose I could."
"My mouth is watering, just wondering?"
Not a mouth of saliva, but Jared's balls were ticking like Daan's tongue were caressing both orbs, "well, I don't happen to have a ruler handy."
"You don't need one," Daan says. "All you have to do is stick a finger in, press down hard and then see if it measures to one or two knuckles, then guesstimate."
Rubbing his beard, which fully covered his chops, Jared says, "guesstimate, eh?"
Looking down upon himself, over the leather fronds that crisscrosses his fuzzy front, he always thought it kind of sexy his chaps hung from hips without needing a belt. Low on his bod, he already knew the distance between bellyhole and balls, "let's see now," he feeds a finger in.
Pulling it out, Jared says, "I would venture to guess, ballpark figure of no more than an inch. Is that good?"
For Daan, naked, trussed up in an X position, cuffs on wrist, standing on individual platforms, gazing down upon the most beautiful hairy man he's laid eyes on, except Lance and Duncan, "that's really good. But I can't reach your navel from up here."
Jared knew, once Dr. Tor was called in, he wasn't to mess with the patient, "well, you know, not which I wouldn't enjoy immensely, to have your tongue fucking my navel, I think you might have a treat awaiting you when Dr. Tor gets here."
He didn't realize he gave it away, Daan saying, "Dr. Tor?"
Don Pasquale, after turning Tom, Elton, Randy, Lance and Nick loose in the store portion of the playground, Duncan as their mentor, returns just in time to hear the slip, bopping Jared in the back of the head, "Jared, you idiot!"
"Oops. My bad."
In the meantime, Daan, even though unaware Dr. Tor is the shrink variety of doctors, rants and raves, "I don't need a doctor!"
Totally ignoring Daan, Don addresses the bad guy here, "well, Jared, I think you know payback is do for your crime?"
Don smiles at Jared, receiving the same back.
"Well, after Nadav gets here," he covers his mouth.
"Too late for that now," Don grins at Jared.
"After `he' gets here, I guess I'll be at the mercy of your invading cock?"
Snatching Jared's nips up in his fingers, Don says, "sure, right after I torment these!"
"Damn, you really know how to stimulate a guy's crotch!"
Already Jared was twitching. But as things go, this not the first time the two have hooked up, he would also have Don crying for mercy, as he invaded his narrow hole!
%
Meanwhile, back at the yoga studio, Mat unfortunately had to shower alone. Since he was there by his lonesome self, he came out without a loin covering. Like most of the guys, he didn't lock his locker.
After opening it, he hears a loud ruckus, followed by a complaint, "oh shit!"
He knew that voice, "Ritchie is that you?"
Walking towards where Ritchie replies in the affirmative, Mat finds him down on all fours, picking up paper towels and a busted open metal dispenser.
"I found a dispenser in the supply closet," Ritchie lifts his chin more than once to gaze upon Mat, "and thought I would replace the broken one."
Never shy among men, Mat stood there with arms folded across his chest, allowing his lower half to hang free, "that's thoughtful of you Ritchie," he tries to remain positive, even though paper towels are strewn all over the moist tiles.
"That's me. I see something that needs to be fixed, I fix it!"
Mat could see Ritchie too proud and rather than kill the feeling, "that's good to know. I'm sure there are other things to be fixed around here."
Ritchie smiles.
"What?" Mat says.
"Nothing," the thirty year old claims.
Mat already knew, but wanted to hear it from the source, "you know, there's nothing a person says, usually, that can make me criticize them for?"
"Well, okay. Um," Ritchie still wasn't sure.
"C'mon. Out with it," Mat cracks a little smile of reassurance.
"Okay, well, I just was wondering," Ritchie steps on uncharted ground, "if you would be needing some help with your hard cock?"
Now, he could've canned Ritchie for it, but being his and Tom's relationship was already wide open, "is that all? Now mind you, I don't normally mix with people I hire, but I was wondering something about you Ritchie?"
"What's that?"
"Actually two things."
"Oh. Okay. What would that be?"
"First thing, and I hope I'm not offending, but wondered what you would look like without any clothes on?"
Mat waited, a bit nervous he might have overstepped boundaries, but certainly, as Ritchie had already mentioned, he was `hard' and needing attention.
Nice way Ritchie put it, eagerly saying as he got up, "I'd love to strip for you."
"Ok," Mat him leeway.
"What's the other thing?" Ritchie begins to unbutton his `Mat's Yoga Studio' maintenance shirt.
"You wouldn't happen to be into sucking cock?"
"My specialty and I'd be more than happy to help you out with yours!"
"Perfect," Mat says, watching Ritchie strip. "Oh wait."
"What?" Ritchie halts, seeing his boss march away. He feels relieved, hearing the garbage can being moved around, and why!
"Don't want anyone walking in on us," Mat says.
"Yeah. I know. We have to keep this confidential, right?"
It was already on Mat's mind to say so, "you beat me to the punch on that one, Ritchie."
Confidently, as Ritchie's clothes are almost all stripped away, "I don't know how many blowjobs you've had in your life, but you're in store for a real treat!"
Mat was entertained by Ritchie's infomercial, "can't wait!"
But when it comes down to the wire, Ritchie, naked and on his knees, inches for the taking, "I feel funny doing this."
"Why? What's the matter? I'm like, allowing you to do it?"
"I know. And I appreciate it, but it's not like I've had a lot of hot guys offer me their cocks to suck."
Mat was thinking if that was the real reason, but made excuse for the midlife guy, "maybe you're intimidated by doing it at work?"
"Maybe," Ritchie thought it logical.
"That's okay Ritchie to feel this way. You might be more comfortable joining Tom and I at our place this weekend?"
Ritchie was taken aback, "you're inviting me to your house?"
"Sure. You're not the only employee who will be there. In fact, I'm inviting some of the newer members of the crew, James and John. Think of it as getting to know other guys who work here."
"That might be cool," Ritchie was unsure.
"So, you're coming?"
He goes to back out, "if I don't have something else to do."
"I'm not taking no for an answer," he knew Ritchie was faking it.
"You won't fire me or anything, if I don't come?"
Now that Ritchie has mentioned it, Mat went with it, "could be a deal breaker."
"On that condition, I guess I'll come."
"Good. Make sure you pack an extra set of work clothes. Arrive Friday at six and you can spend the weekend, shower and dress to be to work on Monday."
"Wow! I've never been to a party for more than a few hours."
"And oh," Mat says before leaving Ritchie there on his knees, "don't forget to pack the suntan lotion. And don't worry, there'll be someone there who can apply it to your back and ass."
"Really? Who?"
Mat shrugs his shoulders, "I dunno. Whoever you hook up with at the party."
With the only confidence he had, Ritchie states, "forget that. Who wants to hook up with me?"
"You underestimate yourself," Mat says as Ritchie gets up to his feet. "You know you're quite an attractive man?"
"Nah. I'm fat."
"You have a few extra pounds, Ritchie, but I wouldn't label you obese."
"Maybe."
An idea comes to Mat, "Sherman will be at the party. Check with him about getting some personal training."
"Oh, I'd never be able to afford that."
"You never heard of the barter system? I'm sure he loves a blowjob now and then!"
"Hm, I didn't think of that. But no, I never bartered anything for sex. Like, how does that go?"
"Come to the party and you'll find out."
"I can give Sherman a blowjob at the party?"
Mat smiles, "yeah and you wouldn't be the only one!"
"You mean, this is a sex party?"
"All weekend, nonstop!"
"Wow, I've never been to a party like that."
"The beauty is we're all naked, all weekend. No clothes to wash on Monday!"
Ritchie heard of stuff like this, but never dreamed he would be a participant.
"So, this afternoon at 4, I'll be seeing you?"
"I thought you said 6?"
"I know, but thinking about it, Sherman gets off at 4."
"Sherman?"
"Yeah. You wanted to get to know him, right?" Mat leads Ritchie onward.
"But I don't even know him."
"That's okay. No way better to get to know someone, except to spend the weekend with him. And you don't have to worry. I'll make sure Sherman looks for you before leaving work. You can leave your car in the parking lot for the weekend."
"But I don't have a car."
Ritchie was being so cute, with his short haircut, fully rounded beard, small patches of hair running down the middle of his chest, those green eyes, "then it's unanimous. Sherman will find you before he leaves, then bring you to work on Monday."
"What if by Monday he hates me?"
Anything's possible!
Though Mat knew he was more into the muscle type vs. pudgy-cub, there was something about his maintenance man, "now, who could possibly hate a nice guy like you, Ritchie?"
Mat had to be going, working out last details with the caterers, making sure busboys were prepared to spend the weekend.
Seems like this was to be included in those last minute details, "see you later, Ritchie."
"Okay," he was still in a blurred dream, "I guess."
As he went back to work cleaning up the mess he accidentally made, Ritchie is like a kid on Christmas Eve, dreaming of sugarplum faeries dancing around, Sherman one of them, dancing over his ass!
%
Most of his day, Sherman was in the warehouse out back, planning the outer perimeter of the new gym building he would assume control over as manager. With him was Duncan's new employee, Sean, trying his hand at landscaping.
Even though he had a bushy cut of blond hair, Sean wore a baseball cap. This particular one came with the khaki shirt Duncan issued, with same logo as `Balderston's Landscaping'.
Since Sean was wearing the cap backwards, it was plain to see the logo from Sherman's perspective, towering above.
It's only when the sun comes around, Sean has to adjust so it shades himself and the blueprint, he discovers just how close his client is, "oh sorry," he says, having bopped Sherman in the chin.
"My bad," Sherman lifts his chin.
However, Sean just had to tilt his sunglasses when he turns his head upwards for a second glance and to hide what he initially thought, "yeah, okay."
Sean felt flush, thinking he just made a fool out of himself, giving away the fact he was checking Sherman out.
Instead, he carries on with business, choosing any shrub on the plan to defer that idea, "what do you think about a row of these," he runs a finger along the plan, "across here?"
Sherman giggles, "would be nice if Mat had an interest in cutting the parking lot in two?"
Sure enough, as Sean bows to the blueprint, tilts his glasses and looks over the top, his finger had traveled over lines separating where clients would be parking their cars, "oh yeah. I see what you mean. My mistake."
"Then," Sherman says, "I guess that evens up the score, your mistake vs. my bad?"
Making excuse, Sean says, "or maybe that it's so damn hot out here in the sun, it's got me to not thinking straight."
"Oh well, then that saves me some time," Sherman thought it the perfect way of finding out which way Sean leans.
"I don't get you."
Smiling, Sherman plays on Sean's words, "thinking straight, I guess that means your straight?"
It did occur to Sean that it's possible Sherman was `hitting' on him, but he was all for it, saving him the way to work the idea into their conversation, though he leaves it vague, "could be. How about you?"
As he turns around, Sean stares point blank at Sherman, even taking off his sunglasses to get a clear view. If it turned out he wasn't gay, well, a hand to the side of the shirt, at the belt line might cost him a black eye.
Responding to Sean's manhandling technique, touching his shirt, Sherman wishes it was his skin, but rather than waste time, grabs him around the middle, steering their heads together for a lip lock!
"Wow," Sean reacts.
Sherman guesses, "yeah, men say I am a good kisser."
Sean at this point didn't know whether to expose the real truth, but a hand on a guy, before finding out if he's gay could be just as dangerous, "that you are. The thing is, I've never kissed a black guy before."
"Interesting," Sherman stands erect, arms folded across his middle. "Then tell me, Sean, you've kissed white or Asian guys, I take it?"
"Yeah. So?"
"Do us men of color taste any different?"
"Oh shit!" Sean was embarrassed beyond what he thought, being a barrier that was beyond repair. Trying to mend it, "trust me, I didn't mean to offend."
However, Sherman goes a little overboard, "you know, Sean, it's said us black men have giant dicks?"
Sean thought, "y'know, I apologized, at least I think I did, but you don't have to go to the extremes to drive your point home, Sherman," he starts gathering up his blueprint.
It's then Sherman realizes that maybe he has said too much. Placing a hand on Sean's arm, "no don't go. Please excuse me for being a prick."
Sean did have his own thoughts on the matter, "well, I did think you went a little over the top, thinking that I was interested in you only for the size of your dick. Y'know, there's more to me than a guy who thinks about sex all day long. I like art, music, dancing, eating out..."
As Sean rattled off his list of superlatives, Sherman thought how awfully out of line he got, "yeah, well me too."
"Really? What musical artist do you like?"
"Well, since I'm mainly into classical music, it would take a while to name every member of an orchestra, granted I could even think of one name, other than the conductor?"
It's then they struck up a chord, Sean saying, "I think my favorite is Dudamel."
That's all Sherman needed to hear. Already he was slowly popping a boner, but this, he was smitten, leaning towards Sean, bowling him backwards over the table.
Sean had to plant both hands on the table, a catalyst in order not to have his spine snap, as Sherman's kiss was the force behind the power.
"So," after Sherman withdraws from that powerful kiss, "any difference in a black man's kiss?"
"None that I can think of."
Thinking there was more, "but?"
"What I'm more thinking of, is the quality."
It was good reasoning, enough for Sherman to find no better excuse than to close in for another sampling. This time, as his lips were kissing, his hands were wandering!
Not which Sean was opposed to Sherman's hands busy with unbuttoning his shirt, but a flaw that hadn't been addressed, "uh, you want everyone in the world to know our business?"
"Oops," Sherman says, realizing they were outside in the open and not sequestered away in some private locale, "my bad again."
Sean was on it though, "those showers working yet? I feel kind of gritty from standing out here in the sun."
His smile was all that was needed for Sherman to think no more, grabbing Sean by the shirt and hauling him indoors.
Once inside the double doors, adjacent to the parking lot, all hell broke loose; kissing, stripping shirts, belt buckles unfastened and by the time they reach the locker room, there was nothing left but a trail of clothing paving the way from the front door.
"Another `my bad'!"
Sean says, "I don't follow."
Sherman certainly was, right after Sean dropped his briefs, "something I said about black men with big dicks?"
Partially embarrassed, not which he hasn't been faced with the comment from other guys, "oh, that. Yeah, I always got teased by my high school football team, having the biggest cock on the team!"
Then he was totally bonked, Sherman falling to his knees, all the while firming his shaft up, "really?"
"What? Never had a black man suck your beautiful piece of meat?"
Men of color, Sean had put that behind him way before today, when ever anyone questioned him about it, `all men are created equal'.
Kissing was beautiful, which race didn't play a part, Sherman treating it as if it were poetry and not a fast jerk off. Lips, tongue, slurps and all that liquid stuff, he was creating a masterpiece more lyrical than Mozart!
Suddenly Sherman stops, rises up, and with his hand busy where his mouth was, begins to kiss Sean.
It was all good, but Sean had one complaint, "too bad we don't hae a bed to stretch out on."
Sherman had an answer for that, taking Sean by the hand and leading him out of the locker room.
"Where are you taking me?"
"If you're worried, you should be more careful what you wish for!"
It made Sean laugh, but being tugged along by the hand through the facility, he felt on pins and needles, all giddy, wondering what was up next!
%
Meanwhile, back in Weehawken, Dr. Tor was just arriving at the Sebastian Mission. He was not alone.
With five minute text warning, Duncan stood outside, to instruct where Nadav could pull his vehicle into a reserved parking space.
However, when he poked his head inside the driver's window, he was surprised to see a fellow darkroom mate, "Jared, is that really you?"
Smiling, Jared's beard smiled along with him, "it's me. In the flesh, Dunc," he leans over Nadal's lap. From where he was situated, it was impossible for the bearish, forty-nine year old man to extend much of a greeting, so jacked his door and made his exit.
Duncan wasn't sure of the greeting he would get, being he might've done Jared dirty, not leaving him tied to a bed, but maybe stealing a dungeon boy from him, so protected his tummy!
However, nothing transpired except a sweet hug, kiss on the lips, Jared saying, "it's been what, two years since we last met?"
"I dunno, but I think it had to be before Covid?"
After parking Nadav joins them, "are you sure it's safe to park here, Dunc?"
"Of course." However, another issue crossed Duncan's mind, "so, how did you come to connect with Jared?"
"My bad, actually," Nadav confesses.
Jared jumps in with, "I had an appointment on my calendar, but when I showed up, Nadav was nowhere to be found."
"Really?" Duncan was puzzled, "a psychiatrist needing another psychiatrist?"
Jared smiles, "you don't think, with all the problems my patients have, I don't have some myself?"
"Yeah," Nadav says, "it's like I'm no different, needing a session with Jared now and then."
Duncan smiles a toothy grin, is it just talking things out, or does it get complicated?"
Jared knew where Duncan was headed with this, "yeah, often times it turns into a pajama party."
Of which Nadav makes note, "except without the pajamas!"
"Hm," Duncan observes, "and neither of you thought of inviting me?"
Jared says, "oh, sorry about that hon, but you really need to make an appointment!"
Both docs of psych crack up in laughter, Duncan responding, "right and I guess that means a 6 month wait?"
"Nah," Jared says, "for an old friend, it's same day service."
"I suppose that means I get my pick of which end I want to use?"
Nadav jokes, "Jared and me, we have that all figured out."
Showing worry, Duncan says, "I just hope I'm not the middle of the sandwich!"
"Nah," Jared jokes, "we'll just treat you as the middle of the donut!"
It earns Jared a fake-slap to the kisser, dodging Duncan's hand just in time.
"One, you're not getting anywhere near my donut hole, let alone two!"
Whereas Duncan and Jared could be more fresh in their thinking, Nadav hung back, more the spectator, until he brought up why they were there, "so, who is it you have in mind for me to counsel, Dunc?"
"Oh. Right," Duncan snaps a finger, leading them to the front door. "Right this way ladies!"
Jared says, "you hold him Nadav and I'll work him over!"
Nadav speaks out, "double-Dunc, now there's an idea!"
When Nadav graduated from college, with more degrees than he could keep track of, when introduced to fellow colleague, Jared Pliars, it's then he thought of things differently, tossing aside some of that textbook logic he had studied. At forty-one years old, it's been a decade and a half since he and Jared had met.
At the time, Jared had claimed Nadav as the guy on his knees, but a discrepancy occurred between the shrinks, fighting with words, until it turned into a wrestling match on the floor!
Neither claimed victory, finding a wealth in the gay internet pool, of men who wanted to explore their wildest fantasies. Since that time, they've teamed up as an `alpha' couple, working over one, two or three willing victims at a time, adding their own version of psychological counseling.
"So," Jared speaks up, "Nadav tells me there's a young man needing some special counseling, which you think we can provide?"
Opening a metal door, Duncan says, "right this way. I have to caution you though, whichever one of ya's give him your undivided attention, Daan will fall madly in love with you.
When Daan sees Duncan open the door, he's ticked off, reacting, "it's about time you got back. Who are these assholes?"
Totally ignoring what Daan has said, Jared walks up to the stripped and suspended 20-year old, "you really ought to watch how you run your mouth off boy."
Seeing the chiseled six pack, the big bulbous poundcakes, Jared knew Daan could take what was on his mind, a way in which to tame the shrew, punching him full force in the abs, then grabbing both nips and twisting them terribly.
But Nadav steps in, behind Jared, reaching around his colleague's bod, "hey, take it easy will ya?"
"Oh," Jared releases his grips, "forgot. He's your patient."
Breathing heavily, not because of the gut punch, or tweaking of his nips, Daan says, "oh man. I don't know who you are, but I love what you just did to me. Thanks."
Regardless of it being Nadal's patient, Jared says, "entirely besides the point. I intend on making you pay for your callous remark. Next time you'll think twice about respect, boy!"
Separating the bound frat boy and his colleague with the length of his arm, Nadav says, "I've got this Jared, okay?"
Everything about Daan seemed to fascinate Jared, not which in his decades old hobby, he hasn't come across typical muscle boys who jived with what he liked to do to them. Mixing psychology and bdsm, it took a particular playing-partner and dozens of men have filled those boots.
Allowing Nadav to handle Daan, Jared shares with Duncan, rubbing his beard, "yeah, this boy is just aching for a good work over."
"Yeah, but you've got to remember, he's Nadav's patient." Then, cunningly, Duncan shares, "now, if you're aching for an old fashioned fun time in the dungeon, I think I can dig up one or two boys?"
"Well," Jared again plays with his beard, "it would be an awful shame to come all this way and leave disappointed?"
Duncan says, as he leads Jared out of the dark room, "I guess that would mean you would be owing me one?"
"Sure, but probably not in the way you're thinking it!"
Walking into the main hall, Duncan and Jared are just in time to look upon lunch hour. Rows of tables line the hall, every one of the dozen table lined with men, young and older.
In an apron, Duncan spots one of the Yoga van crew, "there's your man."
Seeing others of the crew, Randy, Nick, Elton, other `volunteers', decked out in the Sebastian Mission branded green aprons, Jared says, "hm, do I get my pick?"
"Not. Check out the otter in the short haircut, `stache and chinstrap beard." Duncan waits for Jared to search and seek, "find him yet?"
Randy didn't fit the description, not with the long dreads of different colors.
Nick was too hefty, a man with a slight gut, definitely not an `otter'.
Elton was chunky.
There was one other, a middle aged waiter, almost identical to Duncan's description, of which Jared guesses, "the blond?"
"No, the brown haired man," Duncan grabs Jared's bulky shoulders, forcing his bod to turn towards the otter.
Isolating him from the rest, Jared says, "yummy!"
"His name's Lance and he's hinted about s&m, if you know what I mean?"
"Hm," Jared again rubs his beard, "I wonder if he's into bears?"
"Really? Since when did you ever start giving a man a choice?"
"You gotta a point there," Jared folds hands around the middle of his bod. "So, are we gonna just stand here or are you introducing me?"
Already checking his friend out, Duncan says, "guess I better before that bulge gets any bigger!"
Looking down upon himself, Jared says, "shut up before I decide to turn on you!"
Made to insult, Duncan says, "in your dreams. No one comes close to this ass, sweetheart!"
Affectionately, they've been friends for years, thinking nothing of sharing a hug, kisses or holding bare bods together in a hug.
Often enough, they've played with a hoard of bottom boys, Duncan, Jared and Nadav, sometimes with Don Pasquale joining in, to keep everyone happy, from top to bottom, everyone having a helluva time in the dark room.
However, instead of walking towards the lunch tables, Duncan heads away.
"Hold on a sec, aren't you going to introduce us?"
For one thing, Jared was indeed sporting a semi-erection, but now that a name has been put with the face, he hoped with all his might they would meet, get along.
"Nah, old friend," he pats Jared on the shoulder. "Use that warm charm you're always boasting of!"
In short order, as Duncan walks out, Lance faces his fears of first introductions. Traversing the dining hall floor, he gives himself a pep talk, "remember what Nadav has taught you. Don't act shy, but not overpowering. Geesh," he's ten feet away from surprising Lance from the rear, "turn around, man."
He's heard himself say this, `be careful what you wish for', but never thought he would fit the description, Jared always in control. Nothing could have him prepared for Lance turning around abruptly, with the tap on the shoulder.
"Oh shit!"
Not only two plates of spaghetti tipping off his tray, but the sound of metal hitting the floor, acted like calling attention to troops, everyone stopping and staring at not only the on-the-spot-waiter, but Jared standing there, pasta and sauce streaming down the front of his special outfit. Arriving, Jared was all ready to party in the dungeon darkroom, decked out in his special leather, appropriate to some play meant to stimulate both players.
About to leave, the sounds of calamity hit Duncan's ears. As it happens to involve his friends, new and old, he comes back.
"Oh my," Duncan eyes Jared from mid-chest, down, "now don't you look like the yummy one!"
His laugh wasn't share by neither Jared nor Lance. Others in the room, sure, thinking it as funny as a high school food fight!
Displeased with his friend's humor, Jared says, "I oughta make you clean me off with your tongue!"
At twenty-nine years old, Lance could boast of `suffering' through this detail, first with whipped cream applied to a frat-bro's bod, back in college, later a kinky dude he met with who liked circles of pineapple applied to his nips, whipped cream and a dot of cherries resembling pink nips. Other times he's drunk whiskey from a guy's deep navel.
Stepping up to responsibility, Lance says, "hey, since it was my bad, I think I should be the one to right the wrong."
Jared, being a doctor of psychology, when first meeting a patient, many of which are gay, it took relatively two sessions for a man to come out to him, more to reveal certain kinky activities. Occasionally there was a `Lance', who would tell all by the end of the first session.
"I see," Jared ignores Duncan. Even though being given the heads up, name, short history, etc., he says, "and what might your name be, boy?"
Lance smiled. He hardly was a boy, yet he knew the protocol when it came to a dominant top addressing a subservient man, "Lance Thompson," he enunciates, "sir."
Solving questions he could have stood and grilled Duncan over, Jared doesn't know why, a feeling perhaps, he was so hasty to discover, "would you happen to be relationship-oriented?"
"Oh wow," Lance is dumbfounded, standing there, hugging the dirty platter he had picked up off the floor.
When he doesn't respond, Jared repairs something he feels he's said out of the order of forming a relationship, friends first, other afterwards, "I mean, of course, after we get to know each other better."
For Jared, meeting a man for the first time, in a more common area and not a gay bar that caters to men meeting men for the purpose of heading downstairs to a playroom, he's had trouble following certain chains or rules of attraction and developing friendships over periods of time, whether measured in minutes, hours, days or weeks. Meeting a man for a counseling session was simple, compared to the cold feeling he had in his feet right now.
"Which could be right now, being I'm a volunteer and not a bonafide staff member?"
Duncan was mainly there for support. It was not the first time he stood around, waiting for Jared to `make friends'. Sometimes he helped the conversation along, or until Jared told him outright to get lost.
"Um, like, there's a shower downstairs?"
Regaining a foot in the conversation, Jared shucks aside his dumbass googling, "I know," turns to Lance, "if you don't want further punishment, you'll get yourself downstairs, boy."
Taking the tray and setting it down, Lance says, "yes sir."
Lance could also feel his balls boiling, at the prospect of this muscle, bear, after viewing several times the v-neck of Jared's shirt, lusting to feel a new experience play out.
Not sure of the layout, "uh, which way is downstairs?"
As Lance passes between the two friends, Duncan says, "be gentle."
Smiling, like he was just told a joke, Jared replies, "why would I want to do that? Besides, it's not like he's wanting anything different?"
Knowing how firsthand encounters can be, "true. True. But something else," Duncan grabs Jared by the arm.
Lance turns back, "uh, which way?"
He forgot the `sir', but Jared would straighten that out later.
Duncan says, "to your right, knock three times and when the guard answers, tell him to direct you to the shower."
"Well do. Thanks."
Hanging back, Duncan says, "kind of polite. Knows his manners."
"Yeah," Jared responds. "Shame. I hoped he would be tougher to break in."
"As we both know," Duncan says, "a situation isn't a situation, until we make it one?"
"Yeah," Jared says, cracking a little smile, "I remember the first time you said that to me."
With no one around, Duncan's hands have worked up the underside of Jared's shirt, to where they linger on hips, "yeah, and if we were in the right place, I'd have you stripped down and on your knees thanking me!"
Pushing Duncan's hands away, "I better get to the showers. This sauce is getting kind of rancid!"
"Would help you out, but I've got a couple of boys waiting on my attention."
While Duncan went through the door to follow up on Lance, Duncan chose another.
The door guard knew him well, being the landscaper often visited the downstairs darkroom for privileged entertainment, "if you don't have anyone in mind to play with Master Duncan, I can get a couple of hours off?"
At forty-eight years old, Duncan knew, after another decade passes, if he should happen to fall out of shape, he might be in the door guard's shoes, which in being understanding, "hm, you know George, right now I think I might enjoy having an expert cocksucker working me over. Go check and I'll meet you downstairs in say, ten minutes?"
"You got it!"
It gave Duncan an elated feeling, helping out a guy who fell outside the perimeters of the beautiful', guys with worked out, perfect bods, particular of younger men. He's witnessed slave auctions', whereas the young are stolen away for top dollar, older men left without a bid, or going dirt cheap. This vision always comes to mind when approached by a man older than himself. He once asked the two doctors of psychology, Nadav and Jared, who had been in conversation, why he felt as he did. Their mutual response was agreed upon, something in Duncan's past might trigger that whenever the feeling comes over him, that someone missed out, based on the age factor. At the time, Duncan did recall one time when seventeen, he wanted to get into a dungeon club and how the bouncer, at least three times his age, not only admitted him to the club, but sought out a door replacement and took him under his wing, showing him all the ins and outs of what to look out for and other things. He smiled, thinking upon this.
Helping himself to going through the door, he descends the stairs. What he was not intent of seeing is Nadav, standing, naked from the waist up, hips propped against a bondage table, legs casually crossed, well as arms across the middle, speaking with Daan.
Not affixed to the x-cross-piece Daan had been fastened to, he now sat on the side of another bondage table, facing his new mentor and gently speaking.
"Make any progress?"
As Duncan creates conversation, he slowly unbuttons his landscaping shirt, parting it in the middle and then peeling it off over his shoulders.
In the meantime, hormones racing, even at sixty-two years old, George is coming down the stairs and knowing the lingo, "oh, pardon me, sir, but wouldn't you much rather have me doing that chore?"
Being cordial, Duncan obliges, "of course, George."
More than himself, Duncan recognizes the signs, George's glances to young Daan, lusting to make friends!
Not the only one, Nadav, who is more counseling Daan, whose hands are cuffed around the back as he sits there, legs spread, can tell the whims of the older man, "bet you wish you could take on young Daan here, huh old man?"
It might've seemed cruel of Nadav to say that, with the tone of voice, like he was mocking George, but Duncan knows the game is just beginning and Nadav has chosen to involve himself and Daan.
Duncan plays along, "I know you wanted me down your throat, George, but go ahead, enjoy Dean's cocktail first."
Duncan comes to stand next to Nadav. It doesn't go unnoticed to either, Duncan checking out Nadal's furry front.
"Go for it," Nadav says.
He wouldn't have ignored his `patient', except George is doing a good job of psychoanalyzing the situation, "mind if I separate these?"
Perched up on the bondage table, wrists cuffed behind his back, Daan looks down upon George, "no," he flings his knees apart, "but I'd much rather be separating your legs, sir."
It's been a long time since the sixty-two year old has been addressed in that way. In his younger years he had been known as `Master Geo', but with age, adding a few pounds, his otter appearance has been carved out in a way he more resembling a bear.
With opportunity presenting itself, George reverts back to past callings, "that's Master Geo to you, boy."
Whereas Dr. Tor wasn't achieving much of a breakthrough, unlocking Dean's mind, George seemed to be opening up the chasm.
"Would you happen to like doing stuff to guys?"
At the least, Nadav had gotten through somewhat, having Daan tone down his introduction, from diving right into the torture!
Rubbing hands together, George was already feeling the power in his hands, ideas turning in his head like a gyroscope, "there's much I can do with you boy."
In the olden days, going back thirty or more years ago, George could recall how much he and his submissive enjoyed each others company, with both bdsm and sexual attractions.
"When? Now?"
Looking over towards Nadav, it was as if Daan was looking for approval. One of the things Dr. Tor discovered of his client, whichever man gave the most attention, became dear to Dean's heart, soul and mind.
George too looks to the shrink for approval.
Duncan helps Nadav decide, "he's still your patient?"
"I guess that means I still get the last word," the psych says, turning to Daan, "if you play nice!"
"Play nice?" Duncan says. "What kind of fun is that?"
Nadav, turning his eyes on Duncan, "I'd like to test that theory out on you, if you've got the time?"
Rubbing his thick black beard, Duncan says, "whatever you get to do to me, I get to do to you?"
"That include punching you in the balls?"
Nadav thought he was being funny, Duncan saying, "I can take it if you can!"
"Fuck! Really?"
Giggling, Duncan says, "there's always a first time!"
%
% Copyright 2023 T. Chase McPhee
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