Date: Sun, 6 Jul 2008 12:18:38 -0700 (PDT)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: "Nature Takes Its Course" 02

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.

%

"Nature Takes Its Course" 02
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

With the planting in the town center out of the way there was little talk
of flowers or soil or Sal Barberio's hardware store. Instead, the gang's
mind was on summer days and how they were going to spend them. Last summer
the days were whittled away at the Clark-Barr residence, the kids swimming
almost daily. Things had changed a little since then. They all had aged
another year older, a new member was added to the `squirts', Jeremy. He
felt special his last name was the same as the town grocery store, `Jeremy
Barr-Bridges'. Since last summer, Philip and Diego seemed to gravitate to
one another, becoming best friends. Aidan found friendship in one of his
classmates, Jay J Cabral, same age, thirteen. Their friendship blossomed
after Aidan began doing small favors for JJ, who was confined to a
handicapped chair after breaking both legs in an auto accident. Seth and
Caleb Johnson hung together as they tried figuring out how much they liked
each
 other. It's ongoing! James Kitchner was part of the gang until his parents
divorced and he moved back east with his mom. Through notoriety, his father
designing the town square before planting time, Bobby Hijazi was annexed
into the small circle of friends, associating mostly with Seth and Caleb
since they were eleven too.  Then there was the elusive Davide Davalos who
arrived to school every morning in the Halvorsen Laundry van. Not as
fortunate as JJ, it was discovered JJ would progress, recuperate from his
injuries, whereas Davide would stay confined to his handicapped chair, the
victim of a mild form of multiple sclerosis. Unlike the pairing off, Davide
became a friend of all the gang, though JJ and he often sat on the
sidelines of many an activity. As their end of year thoughts swayed from
their studies, the gang dwelt more on the bike club.

"First we all have to have bikes," Philip said the obvious.

"I'm still working on my dads," Jeremy replied.

It was tricky talking about riding bikes what with Davide disabled. JJ felt
a little relaxed about it being roughly a month before having the casts
taken off his legs, then a few visits to physical therapy.

As they sat at the lunch table, Seth, probably the smartest of the bunch,
"Well somebody has to keep track of us guys."

They all watched for Davide's reaction.

Not failing them he excitedly responded, "I can do it! I can keep track of
everybody on my computer. Alac can show me how to set up a spreadsheet."

They all gave each other a look, questioning each other, "What's a
spreadsheet?"

Only Seth came through with, "Columns. I can help you, Davide."

"Oh yeah," Aidan jokes, "I forgot. We've got a genius in the bike club!"

"Two," Seth replied, sharing the wealth of knowledge, his hand slapping
Davide on the shoulder.

Suddenly Philip recognizes an adult who is not part of the lunch room
crowd. "Hey look! It's Jock!"

"Who?" Most of them ask, faces turning towards the cafeteria door.

"My brother Sean's partner," Aidan says of him approaching, a cop with him.

"Hey, they're coming over here," Caleb first notices.

"Mr. Cahill is with them," Philip says of the school principal.

He was happy a minute ago, but now Davide shows worry, saying, "It's
probably about me."

"Why? What happened?" Bobby asks.

"My brother got in a lot of trouble helping me. Now I guess I'm in big
trouble too!" Davide satd nervously.

Philip reassures Davide, "Don't be sad. Officer Sanchez is a good friend of
our dads."

"Really?" Davide said, still moved with worry.

"Sure," Aidan backs his brother up. "He's gotten my dads out of a lot of
stuff," meaning helping to solve problems from time to time, like Denis'
relationship with Darryl Tyduk, being foremost.

Caleb reveals, "My dads almost got a ticket for speeding and he let them
go! I was there. He looked mean but when Officer Sanchez started talking he
didn't sound mean at all!"

"He looked mean when we were planting flowers," Diego says of this past
weekend.

Seth rationalizes, "That's because he was on duty. He `has' to look mean to
make people obey him!"

They all settled for Seth's explanation.

"Hi. Are you Davide?"

Jacques had picked on the wrong handicapped chair!

"Nope," JJ responded.

"This is Davide," Mr. Cahill replied in his Jamaican accent, standing
behind Davide's chair.

He then realized his error, seeing JJ with casts on each leg. "My mistake."

Philip's hand went to Davide's arm when the two began walking the length of
the table.

"Don't be alarmed, Davide," Mr. Cahill says, bending over the side of the
chair, looking him in the eyes.

"What are they going to do?"

"They're here to help you," the school principal assures him.

"My brother isn't in any trouble, is he?"

Mr. Cahill didn't know the answer. However, Riley did. Squatting down to
Davide's level he says, "Your brother took good care of you didn't he?"

Philip says under his breath, thinking nobody heard except Davide, "See, I
told you he isn't mean."

Knowing the shades could be a bit intimidating, Riley removed them from his
temples, folded them up and stuck them in the left chest pocket of his
shirt.

Caleb mentions, "Now he looks a lot less meaner!"

As the kids were commenting on Riley's disposition, the rarity of him
removing his sunglasses, en route to the teacher's lounge, Ms. Duffy set
her tray of food down on one of the student tables and reached Davide about
the same moment as the two.

"Problem here Officer Sanchez?" She asks.

"Nothing we can't handle m'am," Riley responded.

"Things are under control," Mr. Cahill assured his staff member.

With Riley being hospitable it calmed Davide a little, which in turn made
the rest of the gang relaxed from being on their guard. Also, it didn't
hurt Ms. Duffy had placed her hands on the handles of Davide's chair. For
years Davide felt his handicap chair an extension of his body more or less
as if Ms. Duffy had her hands on his shoulders for comfort.

"I was wondering if we could go someplace more private?" Jacque directs to
Mr. Cahill.

The attention of all the kids focused on Davide. Davide in turn crocked his
neck backwards and looked up at Ms. Duffy.

"I can spare a few moments," she responded.

Silence prevailed at the table as they watched Ms. Duffy escort Davide out
of the cafeteria, gently pushing him through the door, Mr. Cahill making
light talk as he walked among the small grouping.

Out of the mouth of one of the gang came, "That Ms. Duffy is one hell of a
woman," most likely a phrase repeated by hearing it from an adult.

"Ohhhh, you cursed," Diego scolded Seth.

%

With a map, printed from his computer, Tony's car zoomed up and over the
mountain, the town behind him, houses dotting the road til pine trees
became the only landscape. "Cool!" he exclaimed when the turn off matched
the same one as the map, a cinch to follow.  A half hour later he entered
Salmon Creek State Forest. Inside an hour he was zigzagging up a gravel
road. At the summit he hit the brakes, stopping at a set of tall
gates. Above, a metal sign, painted, read, `Pacific Northwest
Experience'. After sitting there a minute, the gates opened
automatically. It's then he noticed a small booth on the inside. Stepping
off the brake and on the gas, he advanced fifty feet and braked again. A
little window opened.

"Hi there young fellar," an older guy greeted him as if addressing a ten
year old.

Tony said, "Hello. I'm here to see..."

"Yes," the fifty-ish looking security officer replied, "Dr. Singh is
waiting for you in his office."

After being given directions, Tony had wished he had his computer so he
could look it up on Mapguess. Regardless, eight minutes later he found
himself in front of a rustic log cabin, oversized instead of the
traditional `box'. Exiting his vehicle, he walked a short distance up a
gravel walkway dividing lush greenery. Opening the door, entering, brought
him into a waiting room of sorts. The receptionist was on the phone so he
waved to Tony, raising a finger to give him `one minute'. Walking about the
room, he gazed first at a painting of a wooded area. "Hmm, looks familiar,"
he said to himself then giggling when he thought of all the forest he
passed on the way up here. Any yard long view could have been the same as
the painting.

"I'll be with you in one second," the guy leaned out of the windowed
reception desk, hand cupped over the phone.

"Okay," Tony replied. Seeing a hunting magazine on the table, it wasn't the
subject of an article which grabbed his attention, but a rather large
facial picture of Jared Allen. "Nice," he said as he dug deeper into the
magazine. He smile when he saw a picture of Allen, barechested, standing
next to a bear, the bear a superimposed picture. A caption read `From Bear
to Bear'. Jared Allen's pic showing him hairy from neck to navel made Tony
want to venture deeper into the magazine. `Rats!' he said when the
receptionist hung up the phone.

"Mr. Gagliardi?" he called Tony.

Leaning with elbow on the desk, Tony replied. "Yes?" Then much more
suavely, "You know my name, now what's yours?"

"Hi," he extended his hand beyond the window, "Ron Glass. Nice to meet
you. Um, Dr. Singh is ready to see you."

Tony, with pleasure, followed Ron up the white-painted hallway passing a
few closed doors. Although, his attention wasn't on the doors nor a few
paintings hanging on the walls.

"Dr. Singh?" Ron questioned after knocking and being admitted
verbally. "Mr. Gagliardi is here for his appointment."

Letting Tony in, Ron took the liberty of closing the door, but not before
one last body check!

"Mr. Gagliardi," Dr. Singh greeted him, rising up out of his swivel chair
behind an immense mahogany desk.

"Nice to meet you Dr. Singh," Tony cordially returned the greeting, yet it
was more the bright, handsome face which kept him focused.

"Please," Dr. Singh guided Tony to one of two chairs sitting in front of
his desk.

Getting the formalities out of the way, Dr. Singh again reiterated, "Not
even family members are being permitted to visit with Denis." He rambled
on, giving Tony some cock'n'bull story about it being in Denis' interests
to isolate him from all that is familiar to him, including family and
friends, for the first month or so of his treatment. "So you see
Mr. Gagliardi, it is in Denis' utmost interests I must decline your
visiting with him."

He knew Dr. Singh `thought' he had it `in the bag', all sealed up, but Tony
was about to play his trump card. "I realize this Dr. Singh, but I was
wondering if you would make an exception this time?" He ended with a smile.

Leaning forwards in his chair, Dr. Singh said, "Maybe you misunderstood me,
Mr. Gagliardi, but Denis is `not' to have `any' visitors and..."

Cutting Singh off, "Oh I understand what you're saying perfectly clear."
Tony sits up in his chair and addresses him, "You haven't been employed
here long have you Dr. Singh?"

"What does my employment here at Pacific Northwest have to do with..."

"Answer the question," Tony said in a more demanding tone.

Detecing maybe Tony sensed he didn't know the rules well enough, Dr. Singh
replies, "I've been here for a six months, but I assure you I know the
protocol for patients' visitation rights and privacy regarding..."

"Tell me Dr. Singh, how well do you know the history of this facility?"

Rattling off a few facts, Dr. Singh responds, "It has been in existence for
well over fifteen years, accredited by the state and..."

"Yes, but do you know the history of the development of the facility?"

"Do you want to get to the point of all this Mr. Gagliardi?" A bit
frustrated, losing his cool a bit, Dr. Singh got up out of his chair to
confront Tony.

Quick on the draw, Tony met him at the corner of the desk. "Did you know
that in nineteen ninety-four Pacific Northwest was in danger of closing
it's doors?"

"No. I had no idea..."

"It was in such a decrepid condition the state was ready to close it?"

Again the psychiatric doctor showed signs of not having any knowledge of
such a thing.

"If you had done your homework beyond more than the rules and regulations
you would have found a common bond between Pacific Northwest Experience and
my family?"

"Your family? I don't see the correlation..."

This was his ticket in to see Denis. Dropping the bomb, Tony informs the
Indian doctor, "It so happens my father became sole benefactor of the
efforts to restore this facility to it's previous splendor," he lay it on
thick, "to the tune of six million dollars."

"I had no idea!" Singh said, flabberghasted.

"And that's not all. Did you know there is a continuing endowment which
happens to cushion the salaries of the staff, renewed at the end of every
fiscal year?" While at home this weekend Tony did quite a bit of research,
having to call his father in Milan to find out where the archives,
concerning the Pacific Northwest accounting books. Now it was paying off.

But Dr. Singh wasn't stupid. Afterall even though ignorant of the facts
concerning the rebuilding of the psychiatric facility, he was wise to where
Tony was headed with all this. "Still this doesn't give you a license to
come in here and expect the rules to be bent in your favor, Mr. Gagliardi!"

Keeping his cool while the doctor's blood pressure ran a little higher,
Tony sat down again in the chair and says, "On the contrary Dr. Singh. I
think you can guess the very reason I am mentioning all of this. Gee
wouldn't it be a damn shame if it turned out at the end of the fiscal year
in order for this facility to remain open there would be a need to cut down
on some of the staff?"

"That's bribery!"

"Yeah. I know," Tony replied, his smile gleeming. "But who's to know except
you and me?"

Instead of returning to his seat, Dr. Singh collapsed, his butt landing on
the edge of the desk, seeing he was resigned to defeat of enforcing the
rules. His jacket flopping to the sides, he held his head in his hand like
he was having a migraine.

It gave Tony a few short seconds to check the doctor out since his eye
level was in sync with his crotch.

Slowly lifting his head, Dr. Singh asks, "You're checking me out, aren't
you?"

He could have fibbed, lied through his teeth but perhaps Tony had done some
detective work upon entering, greetings exchanged and sensed something
about the doctor before Dr. Singh even had thoughts about Tony.

"Yeah," Tony replied, "I was," he confessed. Instead of acting dismal he
flashed the same shiny white smile.

Dr. Singh was floored, not knowing what to say.

So Tony filled in the blanks. "Either your excited by this conversation
we're having, which I doubt." He also managed to get in an observation, not
reluctant to say, "So I suspect when you're soft you're pretty big, huh
doc?"

"This is absurd!" Dr. Singh rang out with. "I'm going to call security!"

Going for the phone on his desk, all Singh had to do is lean to his
right. It made Tony even more powerful in his assault. In order for the
doctor to lean to the phone, his legs parted. It was all Tony needed,
Singh's crotch to be wide open for him to make his move.

"Oh fuck!" Singh shouted when Tony grabbed a handful.

"Put the phone down, Dr. Singh."

Already dialing, getting through the first three digits, Dr. Singh looked
to Tony.

"Now?"

"Akkkkkkkk! Oh shit!" Singh gasped when Tony tightened his
grip. "Alright... alright... I'm putting the phone down!"

More smacked the receiver down, a loud thud resounded through the room,
along with a long sigh of relief when Tony relaxed his hand.

Breathing hard, Singh waited for Tony to speak.

Feeling a bit giddy, Tony came out with, "By the way, nice set of balls you
got there doc."

"Do you want to get to the point, Mr. Gagliardi?"

"Call me Tony, um..." he searched the diplomas on the wall, "Dinesh. After
all I think we're going to friends." Then to impress upon the doctor, he
said in a dominating tone, "We `are' going to be friends aren't we
Dr. Singh?"

"Seems I hardly have a choice in the matter."  At this moment the doctor
wasn't totally being intimidated by the grip Tony had on his life, the
prognosis surrounding spring layoffs at the facility. Instead he was giving
in a fraction of his thoughts to the fact his balls were still tingling.

"I've come to the same conclusion," Tony informed him.

For a second time Dr. Singh sensed Tony checking him out between the
legs. Reacting on mixed signals, Dr. Singh spread his legs farther apart
rather then together. Of course he could have gotten up and walked back to
his chair but maybe he had reason to stay perched on the cliff of his
desk. He had something up his sleeve which thought would work in his favor.
He considered this all out war and was ready to use any `ammunition' which
would help him combat being a pushover.

Anthony smiled when he sensed Dr. Singh thinking things over.

Dr. Singh might've had years of studies regarding psychology but he was
just about ready to steer his diagnosis in the wrong direction. His toes
touching the floor, knees parting even further, made his crotch seem to
bulge more vividly. Playing Tony's game his hand followed the curve of his
endowment, the tube lengthening, having to find it's way down the leg of
his pants or else `bust a seam'. Singh smiled when he grabbed Tony's
attention, making his intention obvious.

His turn at this game, Tony says, "I suppose you want me to take care of
that, don't you?"

Thinking he's won, Dr. Singh replies, "I know you want it."

"Want it? Let me tell you what I want!" He wasn't counting on the beefy
Italian to outfox him, Tony saying, "Let me give you some advice doc. As
one of my college professors said at the beginning of the semester,
`Learning is part textbook, part practical experience of everyday
living'. Ever hear it?"

"No. Can't say that I have."

Tony already figured out Dr. Singh was wondering where all this was
leading. He didn't dissapoint him, "Well why don't we play classroom here
and maybe you can figure a few things out, huh doc?"

Dr. Singh looked at Tony strangely. Fact is he hadn't a clue to what Tony
was talking about.

Abruptly Tony grabbed hold of the sides of the doctor's jacket, lifted him
off the desk and dropped him in the chair he had vacated.

"What are you doing?"

"Man doc. You better hit the gym," he said of the twenty-nine year old
doctor's lightweight. "Get some muscles on those bones."

"That's it. I'm calling..."

"You ain't calling anybody," Tony stopped him from getting up, a foot to
his knee. "You're going to sit right there."

Still no clue to why he was sitting there in one of the wooden chairs,
usually designated for either a visitor, patient or his receptionist
informing him of his daytime schedule, Singh waited without a word to say.

"Now. First of all," Tony said as he sat almost where Singh parked his ass
on the desk ledge, "you went about all this the wrong way, doc."

"Went about... about what?"

Leaning over, Tony replied, "When you tried to seduce me?"

Again Dr. Singh, riled up by Tony's insinuation, exclaimed, "This is
totally absurd. I'm going to..."

"You're gonna sit right there and `take notes'!" Tony said, using his
foot-to-knee technique to subdue Singh.

"I suppose I don't have any choice," the doctor almost pouted.

`Choice'? Tony said to himself. The growth between Dr. Singh's thighs was
enough proof he wasn't going to the phone anytime soon.

"Pay attention," Tony said as he sat there with his thighs spread. "You're
me and I'm you. You're sitting here on the edge of the desk and we're
having our conversation. If any guy in their right mind had intentions of
picking up a guy, he doesn't come right out and say it. You play around a
little bit with him. You know what I mean?"

By the look on Singh's face Tony knew he wasn't getting it or was too
stubborn to admit he was trying to flaunt his crotch.

"Regardless. Instead of voicing your opinion, you slip your ass off the
desk like this." Tony slides forwards til his feet are on the outside of
Singh's dress shoes.

Singh glances to Tony's crotch.

"They do it everytime!"

"They? They do what?"

"What you just did, doc. When my ass tipped off the desk your eyes went
straight for my crotch. A straight guy would have moved back. But no. You
wanted a closer look."

"I can assure you Mr. Gagliardi that I was getting a close enough look
without you dropping your crotch in front of my face!"

Giggling, Tony replies, "I knew you were checking me out. In fact I saw
your eyes greet my waistline, before my face, the first time I set foot
inside the door. Man, doc. You had `gay' written all over your face. Dammit
doc. If you want to hide it you've got to learn to not send signals to a
guy."

Dr. Singh sat back, resigned to the fact he betrayed himself, as Tony said,
from the time he set foot inside his office. He then mustered up the
gumption to say, "Well allowing you to see Denis Clark is one thing but if
you think I'm going to..."

"Whooooa... whoooa... slow down doc. I'm not going to make you do
anything." Though Tony wouldn't have turned Singh down if he offered a blow
job. "Besides, in a way you and I are two of a kind."

If Tony thought he was `lost' before now Singh was totally confused.

Getting up off the desk, Tony wanders to the side of the desk, rounds it
and takes up residence in his swivel chair. "Y'see. Regardless of what your
textbooks tell you and I'm sure they dont make mention of this, you and I
are not on the receiving end. Am I right, doc?"

"Receiving?" Singh questions Tony, showing his skepticism.

Putting it in plain English, he informs the doctor, "We don't suck dick,
right?"

"Um, no," Dr. Singh is quick to say. "Not as a rule anyway."

"Aha! So you have sucked a guy's cock?"

"Every guy sucks at least one cock in his life."

"You got me there, doc," Tony replied, remembering at least two times when
he did suck guys off to completion. "So, it shows the set of rules you have
for yourself regarding your sexual behaviour are not infallible?"

It was like Tony putting it in technical terms, Dr. Singh replying, "I
suppose."

"So then that's it!"

Singh didn't get the point.

"You break the rules for sex, so in general `other rules' can be broken."
Then parking his hands behind his head, lifting his feet to the desk in
relaxation mode, "So. When do I get to see Denis?"

Singh didn't know how Tony wove all this into a decision deciding it in his
favor but he sure was feeling horny!

%

"Ms. Duffy, is Davide going to be in class today?"

In a concave fashion some of the kids in the class stood at Ms. Duffy's
desk. News traveled fast of Davide leaving early lunch and the fact a
policeman was there to escort him. Leading the concerned pack of kids,
Jeremy inquired of their classmate.

Smiling, she delivered the news as best she could. "Davide has a family
problem. He won't be in class today, but should be returning tomorrow."

Watching her students file back to their desks, she knew they all felt a
void whereas everyday Davide would plow into the classroom. Every student
made the effort to make sure Davide could manoever his chair in a fashion
to report to his place, alphabetically placed by last name, fitting his
rolling chair under a special desk, suited especially for him.

%

Copyright 2008 T. Chase McPhee

This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior
consent from the author.