Date: Mon, 4 Feb 2008 11:02:19 -0800 (PST) From: T. Chase McPhee Subject: Adventures in Nature 11 The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, in towns, cities, countries, nor governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most state and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such. % Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection. % "Adventures In Nature" 11 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee % "Aren't you going to classes today, Kev?" "What?" Kev asks, turning over in his bed, facing Kirk his eyes looking like sleep deprivation has set in . Crossing his arms over his pecs, Kirk badgers, "You haven't been to classes in two days, you're starting to stink from not taking a shower and..." "Alright. I get the message," Kev sits up on the side of his bed, hand waking up his package. Wise to the reason Kev has zoned out the world around him, Kirk interjects, "So, John hasn't called you?" "Nope," Kev says, assuring his roomie, "and he's not going to." "What about giving him a call?" "Um, like get the message, Kirk? No call-- he doesn't care." "And what do you credit his `not calling', to?" Nosy, but also wishing to help his roommate out, Kirk persists, staring at Kev. "I called him. He flat out told me he didn't want to have anything to do with me, telling me not to talk to him at work," Kev filled him in. "Wow! I would say that's final. So, I take it it's something you did and not him, to cause a falling out between you two?" "Forget it," Kev says, feeding his legs into some jeans. "Running away is not going to help. Do you still love him?" "Since when did you become Dr. Phil?" Kev says sarcastically, throwing a sweatshirt over his head, pairing up the sleeves with his arms. "Okay, if you don't want any help," Kirk replies, seeing he wasn't getting anywhere with Kev. Going back to his bed, lying down, opening his psychology book, Kirk pretends to be studying. He watches as Kev puts on some socks and sneakers. "So, where are you going?" "Out," Kev replies, grabbing his keys. Then, as he passes an open pad, leaning against the wall, John's portrait, he yells, "What the fuck're you looking at?" Kirk tenses up, hearing Kev's sneaker sending the damaged drawing in motion, walking out and slamming the door shut. % "So, who wants to start first?" Barry asks, standing in front of his desk, arms folded across his front, eyeing up the two juniors in front of him, seated at a distance, chairs to his left and right. Sitting up, one of them looks to the door, provoking the other sixteen year old, as he is reminded of how serious the offense. After a quick glance at Officer Jake Cawley, the two return their attention to the high school principal. "It was Jason's idea," one said, which was not a good idea, leaving himself out of the crime. "You fuckin' bastard! Like you didn't help buy the paint?" Jason accused Gary, jumping out of his chair, his fist aimed right at Gary's jaw. Before the two could get into a heated confrontation, Jake's hand is on Jason's shirt, hauling him off of Gary, separating the two, the cop keeping the two apart. "If I have to I'll cuff you two!" "I don't think we'll need to do that, Officer Cawley," Barry says, standing in front of the trio. Warning them, Jake tells the two, "One more outburst like that.." "I think they get the point, Jake. Thanks for helping out," Barry says, as the two teens take their seats. If the two boys hadn't been faced with a charge of vandalism, Barry might have cracked a smile, watching the riled up police officer fade back into his relaxed pose. However, it wasn't without leaving a lasting impression on Jason and Gary, the two scared shit, to disobey. "Assembly," Barry called out, as the bell rang, signifying the change of classes. "I've finished up my questioning of the two. I don't think we need the cuffs," Jake said, referring to taking the boys out to the patrol car and whisking them down to the police station. Barry thought, what if it had been Eric and Tom? Same ages as Jason and Gary, what would make them any different, scared senseless, to be carted away in a patrol car. Waiting for the traffic in the hallways to subside, Jake stood with the two high schoolers, each too scared to worry about shoving the blame off on the other. Besides, it had already been determined, throughout their questioning, the two were guilty of the crime of spray painting half the parking lot of teachers' cars. Before Barry headed off to the auditorium, he left the two culprits some advice, "You know, there are better ways of working out disagreements with faculty members. Surely, it wasn't all of the teachers in the east parking lot who failed you boys on your Math exams?" With that, Barry left the two teens in the hands of the law, knowing what had to be done, had to be done. % "Hi babe. I just stopped in to say `hello' and...." "Um, Dr. Tober," Luke referred to the man in white, professionally, even though he had something personal going on, "I'm with a patient?" "Oh, I thought he was asleep," Dr. Tober replied, flipping open the door, to which his hand was still attached. "Sorry, kid," the doctor apologized to Denis, then to Luke, "See ya later babe!" After the door closed, Luke asks, "Are you alright, Denis?" The blond teen didn't respond, but rather a scoured look taking form on his face. "Denis?" Luke questions him again, this time standing, getting a closer look. Picking up one of the magazines, staring at the muscled hunk on the cover of the magazine, Denis hurls the colored periodical at Luke, shouting, "You're all the fuckin' same!" Catching the magazine, hands clasping it midchest, stunned for the moment, Luke watches as his patient begins to tear at the covers and pages of the gay magazines. What Luke wasn't prepared for is the bed table to budge, as Denis' outrage makes it take flight, acting as a catalyst to knock Luke down, falling on his ass. Startled, he's sees Denis out of bed, picking up a chair, hurtling it towards the large paned window. "No Denis!" It was too late, hearing the glass shatter. But he wasn't too late, on the mark, leaping for the teen's legs, as he tried running, with intentions of taking flight, hurling himself through the jagged edged window. Crying uncontrollably, Denis pleaded, "Let me go... just let me go!" Luke held on for dear life... Denis' life, one arm around both of the teen's legs, as he reached for the red buzzer on the wall. % "So, how does it feel to be back to proper schooling?" Maury asks his two boarders, as they walk in the back door. "It's okay. I mean, sure," Connor replies, "we miss the atmosphere." Tossing an apple in the air, to catch and proceed to eat it, Maury retrieves it from midair, saying to Jim, "It'll ruin your appetite." "Dah, wasn't it you who said we were eating you out of house and home, Maury?" Connor defends his lover. "Yeah and it starts with this apple!" Maury replies, a smile on his face, as he sets the Braeburn back in the fruit bowl. "Taking a swim won't hurt our appetite, will it?" Jim asks, stripping his tee shirt off, right there in the kitchen. "Depends on the `eye candy'," Maury makes a play on words. "Booooooo," Connor puts down his try at humor, stripping his shirt off as well. "Oh by the way, since you boys missed your turn at doing the laundry last week, you get to do it for the next three weeks?" Jim asks, "Is that a choice or are you trying to dominate us?" "I'm not playing any games. I almost ran out of briefs last week," Maury complains. "Poor baby," Jim jokes, sarcastically, "you could've borrowed a pair of mine!" Connor carries the slander further, saying, "Yeah, you'd look like an elephant in a speedo!" They all might have been having a bout of light humor, but the `weight' joke didn't cut it with Maury. "Gee, did I really hurt his feelings?" Connor asks, as the two stand there, alone in the kitchen. "I don't think he was kidding," Jim responds, the grin on his face, wiped off. "I never thought he was so sensitive about his weight." "Apparently so," Jim tells his mate. "Um, I suppose we should go and make things right?" Anchoring a portion of their tee shirts in the back of their jeans, the two head out, into the livingroom. "Oh, Maury?" Connor called out, with no reply. "He must've gone upstairs," Jim suggests. So, step by step, the two ascend, finding themselves in front of Maury's closed door. Raising his fist, Jim hesitates. "I'll do it," Connor says, knocking Jim out of the way. A knock doesn't bring a response. "Maybe he's not in there?" Connor raises suspicion. It hadn't occured to the two that Maury could have escaped out the front door. "Could be in the jon," Jim says. "You're the bold one," he eggs his lover on, "go ahead. You open it." As if entering the room of a haunted mansion, Connor slowly turns the brass knob, Jim's hand on the wooden door, pressing it inwards. "Shit!" the two teens called out, Jim asking, "What are you doing here, Evan?" >From the dark recesses of the poorly lit room, the two hear a giggle. "Maury?" Jim calls out, as Connor has ventured over to the foot of Maury's bed, scanning Evan's bod, stretched eagle-spread between the two bed posts, ankles secured to the feet of the king-sized bed. Coming out of the dark shadows, transformed from house cook, to a leather dom, Maury states, "A little tough for a boy to talk with a gag in his mouth!" The comment shifted Jim's attention, away from the leather master, to their older college friend, as he stood there, stripped down to the skin, a ball gag in his mouth, keeping him from saying anything much other than different pitched syllables. "We thought we hurt your feelings," Connor said, but kept his eyes on Evan's bod, eyes falling to the lower extremities. "Yeah, I figured so. I hadn't planned it to happen this way, but it served the purpose," Maury said, a broad smile on his lips. "So, what's all this about, Maury?" Jim quizzes him, checking out the same hot chest he and Connor viewed in the courtyard, as well as the college jock's dorm room. "Well, if this boy could talk, I'd let him tell you himself, however I suppose I'll have to clue you in." Making it a quick story, as Maury told how Evan, who happened to be one of his science students, at WRCC, not giving too much detail, skimming through the facts surrounding the twenty year old's hidden desires to be dominated. "No foolin'?" Jim asks, directed at the gagged science major. Connor adds, "I can't believe it. All this time you," talking to Evan, "put up this big front, telling us how you'd like to fuck some cute guy, whom we've passed by on campus." "And I don't doubt it being true," Maury says, furthering the two teens' education on Evan's background. "You've lost me," Jim says. "Well," Maury enlightens them, "seems this boy here can swing either way. When he's not into the fantasy play he craves, he can assume the position as man on top. However," Maury stops to tweak Evan's nip, "on my terms he can be a nice little bitch!" "Wow!" Connor says, still not believing, "He damn well fooled us good!" "So, what are your plans for him?" Jim asks. "Well, I owe you one, don't I?" Maury asks, grinning, a hand firming up his loins, behind the codpiece. "Owe us?" Connor questions, not putting two and two together. "No! You're not!" Jim exclaims. "What's he talking about?" Connor asks. "Remember," Jim recalls, "the night we were supposed to get a free show? Maury fucking some guy, but he never showed?" Connor, reminds Jim about Evan's own words saying, "But Evan is `not' into getting fucked!" "Wanna bet?" Maury says, whipping the leather codpiece off, the sounds of snaps unfastening, his ten inch tool falling out. "You're kidding, right?" Jim asks. "I don't think he's kidding, Jim," Connor reassures his teen lover, seeing Maury spit on his barrel and stroke it to keep it firmed up. Having to crack a little smile, Jim notices Evan's eyes, wide as saucers, staring at the hard shaft in Maury's hand. With arms and legs eagle-spread, ball gag keeping his speech inside his mind, Evan couldn't very well communicate his true feelings. Being dominated by a figure, such as Maury, standing with the three, at six feet, two inches tall, two hundred and fifteen pounds filling out the bear's bod, it's not like Evan could keep his secret hidden, with his cock swelling up, dripping on the rug. Sure, Evan and Maury chatted beforehand, about how the scene was going to go. The only extra frill Maury added, was having Jim and Connor there, for `the show'! % "Um, dad?" Tom calls out. "Yes, son," Barry, whom happened to be sitting at the dining room table, helping Philip and Aidan with their project. "It's dad-Steve on the phone. He sounds.... desperate," Tom replied, an anxious tone to his speech. Reacting immediately, Barry grabs the receiver from Tom's hand. Seemingly, the dire reasons for Steve's nervous attitude, extended through the wire, tranferring the same state of anxiety. "Where's Max?" Barry called out, it coming to him, he and Berk were out for the evening. "Out," Mark answered. "Right." Then handing the receiver to the closest of the seventeen year olds, Mark, he orders, "Get your Aunt Bernice on the phone and ask if she can come over and stay with you boys till I get back." Mark and Tom knew she wouldn't be there for them, the squirts knowing wiser. "We're grown up enough," Philip says. "Don't argue with me," Barry growled, as he set the hanger rocking, pulling his jacket from it. Both youngsters gulped, looking at each other, getting it, at the same time communicating through gestures the message coming in loud and clear. % "Oh, I almost forgot to tell you." "Tell me what?" Michael quizzed Christian. "You were out, when Marty Cooperman called. Sounds like a nice guy," Christian rendered. "Is that so?" "Yeah. The phone was right there in front of me as I called our prospective employees. It rang and was him." "And what was the nature of his call?" Michael asks. "Well," Christian leads into the reason, smiling, "Marty said he was a little short of cash. I hope you don't mind, but I walked over to the bank and wired him some." "Oh?" Michael grills him. "What does he need it for?" "Air fare and some other last minute things. You weren't here, so I figured I should make a corporate decision," Christian replied, ending with a smile. Knowing he was getting the shaft here, figureatively speaking, Michael, arms crossed in front of him, says, "And where, may I ask, did you come up with the cash?" Christian sat there in silence. "Well, fork it over," Michael's tone and character provoked Christian into telling. "Well, actually he said he needed eight hundred for the airfare and a few hundred for other...." "Just give me a rounded total?" After a gulp, Christian replies, "Fourteen hundred?" "I see. And where did you come up with that much cash?" Michael nooges him. "Um, I never leave home without it!" "When you get the bill, you just make sure you give it to me." "Oh, but what about Marty? He said he would pay me back," Christian replied. "You leave Marty to me. Just you make sure I get the bill." "Yes, sir," Christian replied, formal, but with a smile, getting the message Michael wasn't upset with him. "I better get back to my calls." "Quitting time was an hour ago. Make yourself scarce!" % "Oh fuck! Not again! What is this shit?" Kev called out to himself, as he sat behind the wheel of his 4x4. "Well, at least I've got this," he concluded, realising if he was going to get into town, he would have to use his own two feet. Before abandoning his truck, he reached into the glove compartment, quickly casing the immediate area. He withdrew a small, clear pouch, green stuff, like vegetated matter showing through. Stuffing it in his jean's pocket, he locked the worthless vehicle and started out hiking up College Drive North. Before he got to the main drag, the countrified portion of van Dusen Blvd., he ducked off to the side, into the woods. Being well-versed at how to construct a joint, he had assembled one in no time, lighting it, inhaling it's therapeutic value, relieving him of the stressful condition which had overtaken him. "Ahhhhhhhhhh," he called out, as he leaned against the trunk of a pine. After several minutes shot by, he stomped it out and traveled the last few feet of College Drive, in minutes turning onto van Dusen. He was feeling mighty good, but had his mind set on finding his next temporary high at Anderson's Bar and Grill. With his hands buried deep in his pockets he trudged along the shoulder, the night darkening as the sun almost dove behind the trees and hills. He moved to the side of the road when he heard the horn of a ten wheeler, figuring he was being warned of it's closing in on the distance. However it wasn't the case, as the passenger's side door flew open. "Hey kid, know where we can get on the interstate from here?" A little whoozy, Kev leaned on the door to steady himself replying, "Uh, sure. You keep going in the direction you are headed and it's about ten miles to the turn off, but you have to be careful on account of the sign is sort of covered by the trees." "Hmm," the scruffy trucker said. "What did he say, Fred?" Kev caught an earful, hearing the driver call to his partner. After hearing Fred's response, the driver said, "I'm in no fuckin' mood to get lost tonight." Unaware, being not too much with it, Kev didn't notice Fred scanning his bod, especially taking in the space between his legs. "Hey, Bill, maybe we should take the kid along with us...." Then to Kev, he asks, "You be needing a ride, kid?" "Yeah, sure. I'm headed up the road as long as you're going that way," Kevin said gleefully. Climbing up into the saddle of the front seating arrangement, Kev parked his ass between the two. "Hey, want a swig?" Fred asked. Kev, already on his way to forget about his troubles, accepted a drink, out of the brown paper bag. After awhile he wasn't comprehending much, especially when Fred said to Bill, "Next right." Grinning, looking as evil as hell, Bill took his partner's advice, making a wide swing, a right, onto Valley Ridge Road, the street where Fred read the sign, pointing out Bridges Environmental Center and picnic area, plus something which enticed Fred, causing his loins to surge, `closes at dusk'. By the time Bill braked the truck, Kev was already subdued by the effects of the joint and alcoholic beverage, encouraged on by Fred. "Let's get this party on the road!" Fred said to Bill, opening his door, grabbing Kev by the shirt, yanking him out the door. "Heeeeey! What the fuck you...." Kev protested, as he fell, faced down, in the dirt. Coming from around the truck, Bill says, "First a little fun?" Grinning, Fred knew what that meant, tearing Kev's tee shirt, as he lifted the twenty year old to his feet. "Oh will you look at that, Fred. You've gone and torn the boy's shirt!" "So, what are you gonna do about it, Bill?" Each provoked the other on, with the cat and mouse game, Bill taking Kev's tee by the collar, tearing it down the middle, as the slightly coherent college man squirmed about, in Fred's full nelson. "Nice," Bill remarked, when he felt up Kev's abs, his hand journeying down lower, cupping his hand over Kev's clothed balls. Up until now, Kev had shouted at least five different variations of profanities, warning them they better let him go. However, being set in a full nelson, arms extended over his head, caught up in Fred's bulging arms, he didn't hold much creedance towards carrying out his threats. "Well you gonna get with it, Bill? My balls are starting to ache!" "If you insist!" Bill replied, grabbing at Kev's beltline, tucking his left hand in, clutching the beltless denim in his hand, pulling Kev towards him, his right fist plunged into his stomach. "Uggggghhhh!" Kev belched, falling amongst the pine needles, as Fred let him out from the bondage of his arms, his arms folded over his stomach. "Weak punch, Bill. Can't you do any better?" Taking Fred up on the challenge, Bill says, "Get him up." Doing his best to scurry across the forest floor, Kev tried to escape, but Fred caught up, grabbing him by the scalp. "Oh no you don't, you little shit!" Before confining Kev in the prison of his muscled arms, Fred rips the remnants of Kev's tee shirt from his bod. Unlike before, Fred pulls Kev's elbows together, behind his back. In seconds, Kev is on the ground, holding his sore gut. "Much better." "Felt fuckin' good, I tell ya!" Bill boasted at tucking Kev's stomach in. There wasn't much fight in Kev, the effects of the drug, liquor and his weakened abs, all playing a part in wearing down his resistance. "Your turn," Bill tells Fred. "Hell yeah!" Fred replied, elated over the go ahead to take on Kev. Again manhandling the college art major, he takes him over to a wooden picnic table, slapping his chest down, as if a wrestling match. "Want me to get the rope?" Bill asks. "Nah. He ain't gonna give me no trouble!" When his bod fell against the table, the rough wood dug into his lip, busting it open, adding to the pain in Kev's gut. "Just in case he does," Bill cautions, he holds Kev's wrists above his head. Reaching between Kev's navel and the table, Fred begins to unbutton and unzip the jeans. "Damn well better be a tight fit!" Mostly out of it, Kev had no idea what lurked in the minds of his two assailants, even as his jeans were pulled down to his ankles, his briefs following. It made light work for Fred, as Kev's cock and balls sat on the edge of the rough, wooden table. Spitting on his fucking tool, Fred worked it up, placing the head at the entrance to Kev's ass canal. Bill held Kev down, as Fred made his entrance. "Ohhh yeah.... oh fuckin' yeah!" Fred called out, as he felt his cock being tightly massaged. % Copyright 2008 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.