Date: Tue, 27 Jan 2015 16:40:14 -0500 From: TCHASE MCPHEE Subject: FiRE iSLAND BiKiNiS ~ ?beLLyhOLe ALeRt!? 05 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. Various states and countries have various rules regarding reading or viewing `adult material'. It is up to the reader to research this subject, abiding by their own laws. The pages of this story contain `adult material', intended for an `adult audience'. Bypass this warning at your own risk. % Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection. Hey dudes, if you have enjoyed reading NiFTy stories as much as I have, over the years, consider adding some support for `internet $pace'. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ^o^ Concluding remarks ~ reading this story could make you stiff or gooey, so I would suggest not reading it at work... just sayin'! :) % FiRE iSLAND BiKiNiS ~ `beLLyhOLe ALeRt!' 05 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee ^o^ % "Is that coffee my nose senses?" The only one not shocked out of his gourd, was Jared, simply saying to the man he slept with last night, "I thought you were sleeping in till noon, Pinto?" Thinking it, Jared smiles, `Well, it's not cum!' Briefly, John had tried to fight it, everyone referring to him by his surname, putting it simply, there were too many guys by the name of `John'. It stuck, so Pinto didn't put up a fuss. Walking over to Jared, Pinto gives him an affectionate pat on the doopie, puckering up, "What about my good morning kiss?" He taps his own cheek until Jared delivers! Forty years old, from another era, Jared didn't see this as anything strange, his and Jay's folks exchanging the same morning greeting, without the slap on the ass, "`Mornin'!" "Well, bro, looks like you made it past first base?" Knowing Jared almost as well as his brother, Jake was about to spring the same thing upon him. Peter, he wasn't quite as acquainted, happy someone `did' present the opportunity to finding out! "First base?" Holding the carafe above the coffee cup, ready to pour, Jared questions, looking to Jay, "I'd more likely think I hit a home run!" "Stop the procrastinating," is Pinto's only interest, tapping underneath Jared's right elbow. "So, are we going to hear wedding bells anytime soon?" Jay laughs. Pinto seeming old-fashioned, Jake knew Jay's bro wasn't, "Do you know what you can buy, instead of spending all that loot on a wedding?" "Two tickets to paradise?" Jared says, still holding the pot, Pinto having pried the mug out of his hand. Up on the Evans' business world and the money it's made him and his brother, Jay says, "Jare can already afford a trip to Tahiti." "Hey, don't be so mundane, bro. He wasn't talking about `that' kind of paradise!" "Oh," Jay rests on it. Sipping, Pinto leaned against a counter, saying, "I didn't know I'd be marrying into money!" >From the scope of their time together last night, Pinto unwilling to leave Jared alone at HOODWINK'd, when Homer and JZ chose to follow Joseph downstairs to The Spin Club, their hours-long chat brought them more into each others' lives. Pinto fully established in his own business, which encompassed most of his life, Jared knew his new love interest was well endowed and not just in between the sheets! Silent for the longest time, ingesting information from each party, Peter says, "Well, Jay, have you decided what's on your plate for today?" "Hot dogs?" Jay smiles at him. A smirk on Peter's face was all the disciplining Jay needed to change his evil ways and not feed into the conversation, "I mean, I thought I would take plant inventory." However, there was one `between the sheets' question on the tip of Jay's mind, "By the way, bro, is there anyone else out in Homer's shack?" "If you're meaning `Homer'," Jared shares, "I'm not sure." Pinto's smile lights up like Times Square at night, "No, to answer your question. If I'm correct in my assumptions, most likely he and JZ are still `hanging around' down at The Spin Club!" Curious, Jay asks, "Uh, Pinto, you and JZ, being he works for you, you two do that whips'n'chain stuff...together?" "Only as a witness, to make sure the kid doesn't get hurt." "What a nice guy," Jared says, smiling at him. Wondering if there was more, Jay, not quite ready to let the subject die, "A `witness?' To what, may I ask?" Not only Jay, this time, even though Peter was trying to help Jay with what seemed like a `sex addiction', born out of a functional disorder, showed interest as well, "Yeah, what goes on at those clubs?" Pinto, not a stranger to The Spin Club nor bondage functions of his past life, defines it, "Some go for the pain and final glory, but there are others who like it only from a `sexual' standpoint. JZ, he loves getting tied up and slowly `worked!'" Feeling lost, Jay didn't know what the hell Pinto meant. Jake, from their first bdsm experience, Master Bartosz stroking his cock `now and then', plus a few experiences with `Master' Joseph, Jake knew how anything could get a hard shaft oozing. Buds from years back, Jake knew Jay still in the dark, saying, "I'll explain it to you sometime, bro." Standing behind Jay's chair, Jake leans a little, adding pats of confidence to Jay's shoulders. Upending his coffee mug, Pinto says, "Well I've got to get my morning going!" Abrupt reawakening for all of them, Jay says, "In the rain?" Sharing in the `show must go on,' Jared says, "Do you think they're going to close the stock market for a few raindrops?" Following Pinto back to the corner of the kitchen, Jay knew where his brother was headed. He was skeptical at how Pinto meant `get his morning on.' It made him smile, though didn't dare make it public. "Same here," Jake says, "before Sean has my butt!" He laughed, but Jay wondered how far Sean's on-the-job training and discipline went! "And you and I? What are we up to today?" Peter looks at all the notes on the fridge. "I dunno," Jay says. "All this shuffling around. Even though I've lived here a few days, I still don't know where I am." "What's today?" Peter asks, though he looks point blank at the calendar! "Thursday?" Jay guesses. Peter calls it, "Wednesday. What's the rush?" "The weekend?" Like he was ignoring Jay, Peter taps the block on the calendar, "Says here it's `cleaning' day." Gulping, it coming back to haunt him, one thing he hated, his mom making him help to clean the house, Jay says, "Just because I live here, doesn't mean I own the place!" "You pay rent?" "No," Jay's eyebrows `frown', wondering what that's about. "Then tell me, what arrangements have you made to put into the teamwork around here?" Peter fold arms across his pecs. Jay hated that, when a fine, hairy specimen, like Peter, placed his arms across the chest, hands folded in, like holding each pec, only to blot out all the beautiful `hairiness'. "I could watch, while you vac'd?" "I got a better idea. While I clean up the kitchen, you go clean up yourself!" "What about all this sudden responsibility you shed on me?" Acting in an uppity manner, Peter says, "You don't think I'm going to slave away, cleaning a house I don't live in?!" Smiling, Jay comes up with a better plan, "That's right. Besides, it's on Homer's calendar. Let Homer play Suzy-homemaker!" Though, as Peter started to rinse the dishes, his mind kept going back to Jay, `was he okay helping himself?' Hearing the toilet flush, that was one obstacle out of the way. However, when it didn't follow up with the shower running, he was suspicious. Right off, bad thoughts began rushing into his mind, like was Jay trying to `jump out of the chair and into the foam,' would he be hampered by the tub wall? Turning the water faucets off, he made a beeline for the bathroom. "What's up?" he rested for a moment on the doorframe. "I was thinking," Jay was thinking, "that maybe I don't smell that bad and could skip a shower?" "Or," Peter had all the answers, "maybe you were thinking, `how am I going to reach the faucet without falling over the wall of the tub and landing on my head and `God forbid', the chair on top of me?'" Relaxing, because he's been found out, Jay questions, "How do you know me so well?" "You think you're the first handicapped person to ever try to do something for the first, second or third time and be shaky about the outcome?" "Not Evan. He can do plenty of stuff!" Walking over to Jay, squatting to his level, Peter powwows, "Evan has different injuries as you, which are not as severe. Plus, and I don't mean to labor the subject, but he and his trainer have a tight relationship and have shown great progress towards his recovery." On Jay's mind, there was another aspect, boyfriend vs. boyfriend, but he kept that to himself, relinquishing, "Have I really held myself back that much?" Standing, again sealing off those lovely red nips, covered in a crust of dark hair, Peter delivers, "I think there are a lot of loopholes in your life. First, you've been shuffled around from house to house to house, so right there, you have a sense of not belonging anywhere. Secondly, as you've already informed me, is the thing where you've gotten your wires crossed over, the guy who cares for you, you think he's also a boy-interest and thirdly...I'm just shooting off my mouth here, but I think, once you find a place to call home and it's your home long enough to get established, many of your feelings and anxiety will disappear." Instead of `what do you think?', Peter let Jay sulk, the field open for comment. Strangely, when Jay looked up and saw Peter's arms at his side, unfolding the beautiful chest package, stripe, the rest, he wasn't as phased about it as, "At least you're telling it like it is. That's more than my shrink has done for me." "It's not a head-shrinker's job to tell you how to live your life. For that matter, it's not mine, nor Jared, nor anyone. However, I think you've gone on so long without someone to guide you...you just got lost!" Like a 4-hour movie flashes through his mind, Jay laments with tears welling up in his eyes. Peter was right. There were some things he could have unloaded his mind on, his own brother, Jake or Joseph, but none he felt really, really comfortable with, picking out, "Jared's been too busy to pin down." Not which he thought it was right or wrong, Peter says, "Jared has a lot going for him right now. In time, when he gets better control of things I think he will go through some life-transitioning issues and find out where he belongs too." "Jare? Lost?" Jay ponders. "Sure," Peter again squats down, grabs for a tissue. "Empty!" he says softly, reaching for `rip off the toilet paper roll'. "Like I was saying, "Jared has had and still has been carrying a lot of weight around for the both of you. I'm sure he has it in his best interest, to make sure you and he, especially the brother he loves so much, to be set for the rest of time, without having to worry where the `bread and water' is coming from." "How come you're so smart?" "It's not smartness. More awareness. Since I was an early teen, I've been interested in people, their lives. I've watched and learned. In a way, it's why I became a therapist, because I know how people can hurt, possibilities surrounding them, what can cause it. Getting back to Jared, he wants the best for you, but if you think about it, since your parents' passing, your accident and the care he's given you since, carrying on with the business, there's a chunk of childhood that's been taken from his life." "Wow. I never thought of that, like how much time I stole from him," Jay again is swept back into gloom and doom, "like, if I didn't have this accident, maybe he could have hooked up with a guy and..." "And," Peter cuts in, "there you go blaming yourself needlessly." "Well, sure. If it wasn't for me, maybe it could have been a smaller chunk?" "Possibly, but since you did have this diblil... debil... oh fiddlesticks, I can never remember how to say that word..." "Debilitating." "That's it...since you," Peter skips past, "got messed up," he stops again, "now I forgot what I was going after!" "That's okay. You made a good lecture. I get what you mean," Jay says, a little out from under the bad weather. "For real?" Peter lightens up, "Should I make you do a book report?" Rather than follow through with some upbeat comment, Jay settles down, "I want to do for myself more. Up until a few weeks ago, I was content with Jare and others doing more for me, than what I could do for myself." "And when did this transition occur?" On a lighter note, Jay says, "Oh, probably right after I jumped into the sea of foam blocks!" After their shower, Jay decided his form of therapy should be vacuuming the house. It wasn't a simple chore, picking up the hose by the handle. Tough part was getting around and behind furniture, for both the end of the unit and Jay's mobility issues. "Are we almost done?" Peter, sitting there in an armchair, feet up on a table, reading a magazine, drops it to his lap, upon trying to hear Jay above the whoosh. Dropping a foot, heel hitting the `off' button, Peter says, "What was that?". "I asked, are we almost done?" It took a half hour, along with instruction, to vacuum an L-shaped area, but not wanting to make the first time the most gruesome, Peter says, "Looks like a fine job!" "Really?" Jay perks up, eyes almost popping out of the sockets, "Am I born to do this, or what?" It made Peter smile, thinking of pre-shower vs. right now, "You'd make any man proud!" Thor, who had run away to the kitchen, returns, paws up on Jay's knees, barks. "See? Even Thor is proud!" "Um," Jay treads softly, "I think maybe he has to go out?" It made Peter smile, thinking back to who fed Thor. Joint effort, Jared bent over to put a cup of food in the doggie dish, Pinto showing his tight ass cheeks, dumping water into it. Allowing the flashback to dwindle in his mind, "Well, what are you waiting for?" Peter could see how a chore for a fully capable person, without a disability, it could be a simple chore. For Jay, his first time at vacuuming, it took it's toll. However, he was surprised, Jay saying, "Okay, but what should I wear?" Dropping a foot to get up, it hits the `on' button, "Oopsie!" The vacuum immediately coming to life, moves the tube on Jay's lap, scaring Thor half to death, the canine making a beeline for the kitchen! "I guess he's a little scared of the suck-up-monster!" More carefully, Mr. Leisure drops the other foot, stands and readies himself for dog-walking. Soon as he hears the front door close, Jay hears the silence of the room. Picking up sounds he didn't hear, with all the ruckus, discovers, the kitchen clock ticks louder than any clock he's ever heard. "Wow!" he says, upon hearing the surf, "Bet the surfers are out there today!" This prompts him to ditch the vacuum hose and head over to the double doors leading to the deck. Strangely, it was like heaven shining down on him, a moment of breach, between rain and clearing, the sun appearing lightly behind the clouds. In horror he looks at the railing, "Oh my god, you poor little guys!" Force of the rain had made some of JZ's cactus turn on their sides. Others were deluged, which Jay knew was just wrong. Nearing the slits in the railing he saw a few had tumbled off and landed on the ground. Having conquered the `vacuum', he had a strong feeling he could reach between the wooden slats of the deck and grab up those poor little cactus. Not thinking of himself, but rather the obstacle of `how to', he moved his chair around to different angles. Facing the railing didn't work at all. Parallel to the rail came closest to how he perceived retrieving the small pots. One thing Jay knew, he should not loosen the strap holding him in place to the chair. Sure, he could reach forwards easy enough, but pulling himself back was a `nada!' That stopped him, thinking, tapping fingers on the railing. Looking around, he spots something, "A-ha!" Rolling over to the propane grill, his eyes are set on a pair of `claws', which properly was overlooked during cleanup. Sure enough, barbecue sauce is burnt to a crisp around each side of the grabber. Looking around for something to wipe it on, turns up nothing. Second look was to make sure no one was looking! After banging it on the wooden deck, loosening up all which would scrape off, Jay heads back to the railing. "Oh sweet!" he says, when able to clutch one pot up with the hot dog tool. Proud of himself, rescuing one of the cactus pots, he goes for the next one. He's scared shit though, when Thor grabs the claws out of his hand! "What the fuck?" he looks up, seeing Peter, clear poncho, walking towards him, leash swinging in his hand. Closer, he says, "Looks like you aced that, Jay!" "Yeah," Jay says, wondering how long he's been under observation. "Good luck getting the tongs back from Thor!" Jay had the whole house to himself, for approximately an hour, finding his way around the kitchen, figuring out, all by himself, how to make scrambled eggs. After filling his stomach, Jay thought about the cactus, leaving them outside at all. However, when he returned to the double doors, condemned himself for leaving it open, "Oh shoot!" slamming one shut, moving out of the way and closing the other, the rain having resumed. When he heard the tires `squish', instead of alerting someone else, no one else to call, he now had the confidence to say, "I'd better get busy!" >From using the tongs, Jay knew a roll of paper towels was out of the question. Instead, he snapped his fingers, thinking, if it was to be had, a mop of some kind had to be around. Closet off the kitchen, he found just what he needed, "Sweet!" Jay eyed the sponge mop up and down as if it were a golden staff. Returning to the double doors, rolling his eyes from hearing the tires go round and round, `squish-squish-squish', he began soaking up water. "Now what?!" Instead of getting all anxious over it, Jay began looking for a bucket, or something, to squeeze the mop out, into. Before that came about, the door opens. Two voices giggling, he knew it wasn't human and dog, "Who's there?" "Oh, hi, it's only JZ and me!" Knowing very well where they were coming from, Jay asks, "And not Joey?" Homer, in a buttoned down shirt, had it haphazardly buttoned up, which gave the inclination it had been taken off and replaced. However, the real focus was on JZ, who came in with a tee shirt on, wet and tore it off overhead. "Man, what an awesome time we had. You should've been there, Jay!" Knowing what can go on, with dudes lurking in the dungeon playroom, Jay sees what fun it was, "I can see the good time you had, JZ. Was Joey pleased with you?" "Joey?" JZ repeats. Taking a sip of coffee, pot leftovers, sticks out his tongue, contorting his face, "Nah, Joseph played with Homer." Not taken aback by the marks on JZ's back, nor red, swollen nips, "Joseph didn't do that to you, then who did?" "Ah-h-h," JZ breathes in the man in his mind, "a match made in heaven!" >From Pinto's account, Jay asks, "I thought you weren't into the pain and gain stuff?" "Eh," JZ goes about making up a new pot of coffee, "sometimes you have to give to get. Sweet man who worked me over last night!" "Apparently," Jay says. Unsuccessful at finding the counterparts of making coffee, the scene is stolen by Homer, in a fresh tee shirt, "Get out of my kitchen, now!" "Yes, sir," JZ says, walking around the kitchen island, meeting Jay on the side. Walking into the living room, JZ says, "What's all this?" In a patronizing voice, Jay says, "I was Peter's slave for an hour." "Oh man, what I wouldn't do to be Peter's slave!" Accounts from Joseph, Jay knew how some men could be just so, so submissive, "Well, right now he's Thor's slave, probably chasing him all over the beach, trying to get hold of the tongs he stole from me!" "Oh really?" JZ looks at Jay queerly. "Homer and me, we passed by the bagel shop. Peter and Thor were sitting there having a bagel and coffee." "Wha-a-a-at?!" "Yeah and we wondered why Peter was feeding Thor pieces of his bagel with a pair of tongs? Now this explains it!" Jay didn't know whether to be mad, sad or glad, about Peter, being there and not here, "Is that so?" If he could feel it, he would be tapping a toe, Jay being disturbed over the fact. As if ignoring Jay, JZ took it upon himself to return the vacuum to the kitchen. Coming back, he had a bucket in his hand, setting about mopping up what water was left. "Where'd you get the bucket?" "Homer. I told him about water on the floor and the mop. He gave me the bucket and said get busy." JZ was busy for a few seconds before upending it, leaning a wrist on the spongey part, chilling out, "Tell ya, if he worked at it, Homer could make one hot master!" Treating the sponge mop like a cheerleader's baton, JZ tosses it about, goes back to work. While his friend went back to mopping, Jay settled down to thinking what he was going to say to Peter when he came back. Troubled by mixed emotions, they soon were lost to thoughts of that hot, hairy chest, the stripe down to Peter's bellyhole...to drive all that beauteousness out of his life would be plain lunacy! Front door opens again! Put on the spot about how he was going to respond to Peter, Jay was faked out. Then, relieved, Jay let out a whistle of breath, "Oh! It's only you!" Sounding like something you would mention to an enemy, it didn't phase Nash, filling the room with his own thoughts, "Oh man, I'm like so, so tired." "Hi to you too, Nash," Jay says, watching him trek into the house. Leaving his hoodie on a barstool, Nash kicks off sneakers, strips off tee shirt, then plops his ass down on the sofa. Jay didn't mind the finale at all, but interested in why Nash looked so disheveled, "What happened to you?" Completely in a slump, Nash normally taut abs crumbled up in wrinkles, responding in one word, "Work!" Cutting his own joke, whether anyone else took advantage of his humor, Jay remarks, "I guess that's why they call it `work!'" Coming a little alive, Nash renders, "You don't know the half of what goes on when a remodel is under way." "Oh. Right. I know. Jare, he doesn't mess around." Then, thinking about it, Jay was ready to rescind that thought, but kept it clean, down to business and skipping over the pleasurable aspect, "So, what did he have you all do?" It was a beautiful experience talking with Nash, his 19-year old `landlord' yawning, stretching, arms above, falling back down, hands glued to the back of the head, flaunting those moderately hairy, ginger-red pits. Stretching his taut abs, Jay also admired the oval bellyhole and thin trail! "We worked all night, while the store was closed, you know?" "Nope. Didn't," Jay resounded. "Terry, I have to admit, he was up on all which had to be done. He's a good boss." Interrupting Jay's train of thought, derailing every now and then, attuned to Nash often changing positions on the sofa to stretch, yawn, caving to one side and pocketing an elbow in a cushion, flat-lined, "You look like you need a caffeine injection?" For a short duration, Jay got to view the little, whiny, ginger-red treasure trail again, until Nash came to attention and sat up! "Oh great!" The sight of coffee made Nash perk up instantly, but instead of taking it from Homer's hand, he cleared a place on the narrow table, "Here," he moved things about, "set it here, thanks." "How about you Jay?" Homer asks. "Nah. I'm all coffee-ed-out, thanks." Like a one-act play, didn't matter which scene, Homer's asking became a cue to the front door opening, "Honey, I'm home!" Running in, Thor was so glad to see Jay, who exclaims, "You're dry! Did it stop raining?" He answered his own question, looking to the deck, drops pelting the doors. "Smart pup," Peter explains, "walked all the way under the protection of my raincoat, mostly." Homer, curious, asks, "Mostly?" "Uh, yeah. No one heard, I guess, when I opened the door a crack and took some rag hanging from the inside rack and dried Thor off." Homer could have gotten stark raving mad, Peter's damn good looks and soft-spoken words a deterrent to his rage, the very idea of someone calling his Scottish cape a `rag!', "Well, I'm just glad you didn't get the floor wet!" Though, he did sneak to the front door to check out the cape he brought back from a gay tour he took to the UK! "What's with him?" Peter was asking more than one question. One of them, identity of the dreamy lad on the sofa. Homer had the exact thing Jay had on his mind, saying, "Oh, will you look at that? Peaceful as an angel!" Yep, same thing, Jay notices Nash, keeled over, lying across the sofa, head to feet, arms tucked into his pits, sleeping like a baby's first night on earth, "He looks so sweet." "Oh really?" Peter asks, taking his raincoat off. In doing so, Jay makes comment, "So, the bagel shop let you in without a shirt?" Knowing very well where Jay got the info, Peter says, "I had my shoulders covered?" "A see-thru raincoat? Isn't it the same as wearing nothing at all?" Big difference of opinion, Peter argues, "I had pants and flip-flops on, though I have to admit it took awhile before they wondered whether I was `legal' or `illegally' clothed!" Right now, Homer wasn't pressing the issue, looking upon Peter. "A bit nippy though. Got anything to warm me up, Homer?" Holding Nash's cup in his hand, of which Nash held it in his, but didn't drink, out of the mug being too hot to even handle, "I was about to have a cup. Here, take mine." All Jay could do is cock one eyebrow, thinking what a scammer Homer could be, interrupting, "If you have some orange juice, I'll have a glass?" "Sure we do...I think," Homer hopped to it. Treading lightly, Jay decided the best way to approach the matter of Peter skipping out on him, was not to press the issue at all, "I think I know what we can do today." "What's on your mind?" Okay, so it was going to take time working out the kinks in his turnaround, initiated in the gym yesterday, Jay's opening statement, "You!" Peter smiled, sipped, says, "I meant..." "I know, I know. I don't think the cactus, being outside in the rain is going to work, unless, every time it rains we bring them inside?" "Except if we're not home and it starts to rain, then the plants are in `titanic' trouble?" It wasn't really that funny, but Jay laughed anyway, quickly extinguishing it, moving on, "So then they need to be inside." In saying so, they figured as much, Homer eavesdropping, "That wouldn't be a problem, if you had something to set them on, which, I could, if given some leeway, draw up some plans and execute them?" Even though he knew what Homer meant, Peter says, "We don't want to kill them!" As if talking to Jake, Jay says, "Not what he meant, moron!" "Oh!" Peter acts blameless, "What did you mean, then?" Both Jay and Homer knew Peter was spoofing them, which is why Homer goes right on to say, "We can either make the shelves one tier or two, or wide enough to fit two rows of plants?" "Um," Jay caught it, "you mention, `we'?" >From overhearing Peter, yesterday, something he said, it struck Homer that he too could play a part in Jay finding some interest in something, "Well, you don't think I'm going to be doing all the work? Why, I've got a household to run too?" Coming in from out on the deck, JZ, drenched in rainwater, holds the mop, "All washed out!" he squeezes the last bit of spit. Coupled with other matters of the heart, soul, mind, feelings from between, Jay says, "How much work can there be when you've got a slave like JZ?" At which point Thor barks, gets up and runs for the door. "Did I hear someone mention `slaves'?" Rolling towards Thor, Jay says, "How did you know I was just thinking about you, Joey?" Jake, who had taken a shower and lay down on the bed, emerges, dashing the sleep from his eyes with the knobs of both hands, yawning, "Hey, what's up, dudes?" Peter and Homer were surveying the shelf situation, Nash still snoozing, which left either Thor or Joseph to attend to the question. "Hmm," topless bod made for comment, Joseph asks, "How come I haven't seen you down at the club lately, Jake?" Seeing a change in his friend, from the flighty gas station attendant, to checking in clients at Warrior One, Jay takes in the whole scene as Jake says, "I'm a working man now." Joseph's head follows Jake, walking right in front of him. Giggling, Jay says of Jake, defying the `master', running the back of his hand right over wet abs, "Something the matter, Joey?" "Plenty," Joseph says, "when it's you two ganging up on me and that's the thanks I get," he folds arms over his middle, "for coming quickly, promptly when your brother called me, down to your rescue from Master Bartosz?" Returning with coffee, Jake says, "Like oh my god, Joey, that's like so-history?" Only thing Joseph could think of saying, was to mock that smooth, stringbean bod, "When are you going to get some meat on those bones?" "Why? So I can look fat like you?" "I don't have to take this!" Joseph assumes a pompous response, walking out the front door. "You think we hurt his feelings?" Jake asks. Both friends utter at once, "Na-a-ah!" Still using the sponge mop as a crutch, JZ intervenes, "So, what's the story on you two getting mixed up with Master Bartosz?" "You would have to meet the person, to get the whole gist of how ferocious he can be," Jake sums it up. JZ smiles, saying, "How do you know I don't?" he looks to Jay. "No-o-o-o, Bartosz was the master you were with last night?" Jay gasps. Right then, Jake's eyes shoot down JZ's bod, then up, "I hope you have your balls still intact?" "Okay, I confess. There's like no one who hasn't heard what happened to you two at the club that night, but you know, when a story is told over and over, it tends to get changed?" As Jake had done, JZ does a little crotch-gazing! Narrating it, Jay says, "Bart was ready to drop the weight on Jake's balls, but Joey saved the day." "And my balls!" Jake says with relief, like it was that night! "The word goes," Jay continuing, "they banned Bart from the club, but then I heard he had to sign a clause or something, saying..." Hearing the same thing, JZ says, "Saying he wouldn't do anything extreme. I know what he's capable of, which is why they now have at The Spin Club a `cheat sheet'." "Cheat sheet?" Jay questions. "They didn't have it the last time I was there." "When were you there last?" Jake asks, for curiosity sake. "Had to be the night Jare and me play our yearly joke on Joey." Out on the deck, Homer and Peter step back in, just in the nick of time, when things could have gotten a little too steamy, "Well, that's that!" "What's what?" Jay asks. Jake and JZ, felt like they were missing out on something, maybe as if they were having sex, perhaps mutual jerk off or cock to ass, about to come, only to have a rude interruption... Homer blasts them with great enthusiasm, "We're building ourselves a bigger deck!" Standing there, arms eagle-spread, they slowly drop, high anxiety draining from his whole person, "Whatsamatter?" Homer conveys. "Like, how's that gonna shield my little buddies from the rain?" Jay speaks, like his cactus collection are human! Peter steps in, "Perhaps Homer is not explaining himself formidably?" Sometimes, in Jay's opinion, Peter acted like a college professor, "Want to ex-pa-lane that to us, doctor?" Exchanging tiny smiles, Peter says, "Well, without getting too uppity in my communicating it properly and all like, what Homer didn't get to say is, since there's a field before we hit the neighbor's backyard, he's extending the deck. However, as you step through these double doors," he swings one arm out as if to welcome royalty into a hall, "right through them one would walk into an enclosed partition, before exiting onto the outdoors portion of the deck. Kapeesh?" "Oh yeah. I get it, now that you've explained it in English!" Jay flashes a bright smile. Medicine to Homer, he recites, "There's a smarty-pants born every minute!" Returning attention inward, Jay, Homer and Peter are alerted towards Nash being forcibly awoken. Sitting on either side, Jake and JZ are using Nash for a bouncy ball, JZ pouncing against Nash's shoulder, Jake volleying him back, only to be pounded shoulder to shoulder and back again. JZ badgers, "C'mon, lazybones, the day is wasting away!" "Yeah, wake up and smell the coffee," Jake adds. "Lemme alone, guys!" Nash exclaims. Finally tiring of the boy-games, Nash stands. "Oh-h-h-shit!" JZ exclaims, his turn to pounce, falls fast against Jake. "You moron," Jake yells out, "if I were going your way, you could have given me a contusion or something!" Jay corrects his surf-bud, "You mean, concussion?" "Yeah," Peter, college-trained, tells him, "with a contusion you could have ruptured a capillary, but with a `concussion', it would merely knocked some sense into you!" "I'd rather think of it," Nash assesses the situation, "as bodily harassment, with intent to wake me up!" Always dabbling in the occult, JZ asks, "Yeah, but were you enjoying it?" While lying in Jake's direction, JZ did sneak a hand up Jake's thigh! "Hey!" Jay startles them all, repeating what he heard someone at the gym mention one day last week, "Suns out - guns out!" "Perfect!" Peter celebrates with a hand clap, clasping both hands, grinding them together. "No time like the present to get started on our little project!" "Me?" Jay thought he might be on the sidelines, "You want me to help?" "Of course," Peter adds something not mentioned during his goodwill speech at the gym, "you're not going to find out where you should be if you don't look for the road to take you there?" "What road?" Jay wore a smile. Meanwhile, Nash had left the room for a major overhaul. Jake, hearing about the sun being out, seeing it for himself, quips, "Great. Maybe I'll call out sick!" Jay tells him, "Oh really? Is that what I should tell Jare when your review comes up?" "Oh, I forgot about that. I have to be careful what I say in front of you from now on!" "I'm still your friend," Jay let it be known he wasn't a squealer, "but y'know, we're not teenagers anymore and we've got to make things important, so we know where we are at later on in life!" "How mundane," Jake says. "By the way, since when did you become a philosopher, bro?" "I'm still working on it," Jay replies. Of course Jake knew his best bud wouldn't squeal on him, but his words made sense. Since working with Sean, who could be a real pain in the ass sometimes, there still was some credibility to how his very position was an important part of making the gym run smoothly. "Well, that leaves me with nothing to do," JZ falls back on the sofa, taking up the whole surface, folding hands right above his bellyhole. "Nonsense," Jay appointed himself the head honcho, "you're helping Homer and Peter make whatever it is they are building." "Sure. No problem. Anything to be of service to Peter." "And Homer?" Jay stare JZ down. "Oh? Did I say Peter? Homer is what I meant to say," JZ claims. The two men worked outdoors, now that the rain has stopped and sun has come out. Switching his gaze back to the deck, Jay misses it, JZ looking down his own chest fuzz, while hands plane upwards. Traveling over his pecs, doesn't voice the opinion of his nips on fire, rather silently, retracting hands like they hit hot metal. Down at The Spin Club, after Master Bartosz' rough handling of Jake Lasko and his buddy, Jay Evans, club management, at the insistence of the owner, instituted a client `cheat sheet'. A go-ahead for any dungeon-master or simply referred to `master' (club employee), to perform pain and pleasure magic on a `boy' (client, require to pay a $25 cover fee even to enter the basement dungeon of HOODWINK'd). First-timers, whether claiming to have no limits or look like they were scared and ready to make a run for it, are required to fill out `cheat sheets'. Cheat sheets contain different items a `master' can do to a `boy'. Clearly explained, the categories follow the places on a man's bod, generally and specifically. For instance, leading the top of the list, it details one of the most endorphin-raising tortures, `whipping.' Left side lists implements, belt, which could be the boy's own belt, strap, flogger, 3 kinds of whips, a crop, from mild to mind-boggling, then something which usually makes most boys' eyes get bug-eyed, `chain.' Right column lists area for the whipping to be delivered, starting with back, followed by ass, flipping over to the chest, stomach and pubes. Further down the list, whipping, flogging and cropping could be found under CBT, which entertains a master, when he finds out the boy has no idea what it stands for! Filled out front and back, which has JZ flipping the cheat sheet in his mind, thinks about all the little boxes he's checked and the reason why Master Bartosz invited him back in the near future. Really dwelling on it, while still getting used to touching his sensitive nips, JZ wonders, if he went through all the endurances on his check list, softly thinks out loud, "Man, I coulda been dead!" "What's that?" Jay asks. Right before Jay asked, JZ was testing out his sore left nip, giving it a tender squeeze, "My cheat sheet-oh-h-h-h-shit!" Dropping the small list on his stomach, JZ uses both hands to contort his pec, examine his nip, by sight and not touch. "Can I see?" Jay rolls over to the sofa. "Um, no!" JZ quickly snatches it up. "I mean," he mellows out. Right off, when Jay's hand went for the crumbled cheat sheet, all JZ could think of is his fearless, or rather fear-provoking `master', warning that what goes on in the dungeon club, stays in the dungeon-club. If he had thought about this before taking it out to check what was done to him and those endurances left undone, he could have kept the list secret. "Oh," is all Jay says, hand back off, like he did something so terribly wrong, "sorry." Now, acting sheepishly, JZ informs, "I was just told, by the master that `played with me' last night, I'm not supposed to tell about anything that went on between us, which includes showing this list to anyone. "Oh right," Jay remembers, "I know how Master Bartosz can be. I'm really surprised The Spin Club hired him back." "Oh, he was fired?" "Um, no. My mistake. I think they gave him a warning. The Spin Club didn't want the negative publicity. Even though it is in their contract, so Joey tells me, that the person playing the master role, is sworn to secrecy, if they tell of anything which goes on or tries to sue the club...I probably have it all mixed up, but the guy wouldn't get away with doing anything like that." "So, the club got him to stay, so he wouldn't go blabbing anything around about the way he was treated?" "You must have signed a paper, right?" Jay inquires. Guilty, reluctant to tell about it, JZ says, "Right before they gave me a cheat sheet, I did have to sign a contract, though I only skimmed through it," he smiles! "I can relate," Jay says, "since Jake and me, we did the same thing. Only, it almost cost Jake his balls!" "Really?" JZ said it mildly, when in reality he could feels his own balls tingle with want! They could laugh about it now, Jake and Jay, but back then it was no laughing matter. Even gulping now, Jay thinking about that night at The Spin Club, himself trussed up in bondage, unable to help Jake, which is the reason he was there, to stop things if they got `overheated.' He swears he'll never forget, neither Jake's balls tethered and stretched, noose around his cock, tied around the waist, tip of Jake's shaft almost touching his bellyhole, a strap in Master Bartosz' hand, doubled in half, ready to pounce on Jake's ball bags, "I don't know which was worse, seeing his balls, or the expression on Jake's face." Even though he claimed no allegiance, nor respect for the man, Jay calls him, "Master Bartosz, you know he doesn't have his victim wear a mask, claims `fear' part of the experience?" "So I found out." It's one of the things JZ checked the box for on his cheat sheet, `masks'. He vividly remembers the spot, because it named different kinds, like over the eyes, whole head, watersports attachment, etc., the last entry being, `all of the above.' He checked, `all.' "As you see, Joey has told me all about The Spin Club, so you can show me the list!" Jay sat confident he would be handed over JZ's list any second now. "Not to be rude, but how come Master Joseph...I mean Joey, didn't show you a cheat sheet himself?" First placing the tip of his index finger to his lip, Jay signifies with it, "Good question!" Ending the tiring `cheat sheet' discussion, they hear the bell ring. Both looked out through the double door panes, seeing Homer and Peter look up. Unknown to the two, in a wee little voice, Peter giggles, says, "Why don't we let Jay get it?" "Can he?" Homer asks. Peter knows this from when he was a kid, in Bible school, it sticking with him, being such a cool phrase, almost like pulling a prank on a guy, "Ye of such little faith?" "Oka-ay," Homer replies, walking over to the doors, "Uh, wanna get that, Jay?" Homer didn't stay to see nor hear the repercussions. Hand to his chest, Jay asks, "Did he mean me, JZ?" "Only one `you' here," he quips, forming an `o' with his mouth, cool feeling of tweaking with both nips! Beginning to roll, Jay is not fooled one bit. He knew Homer would never think up such a thing. Peter had to have his hand in this one. However, Jay wasn't about to let his personal trainer get the best of him! "Ok, I'm coming, I'm coming," Jay strode to push his wheels faster and faster, doorbell seemingly the catalyst. Pacing behind, Thor made sure Jay made no wrong turns. Opening the door, Jay condemned himself, catching his heart in his throat, looking upon the neglected walkway, rippled with deep crevices between old flagstone and sporadic potholes. Seeing who it was, Jay yells and waves, "Hi, Tim!" Back at him, Tim says, "Sorry, but I can't seem to find my key." Then Jay had a way out of even trying to traverse the battlefield. Jared had scaled the gate early this morning, when he and Pinto came in without a key. Downside to all this brilliant thinking, he remembers also, Jared getting his pants caught on the fence. `Oh my god!' Jay thought to himself, not saying it, but thinking if one of those Cape Cod spikes acted like a dild...no, he didn't even want to think it. Sure enough though, thinking Tim might have the same idea on his mind, if he lingered any longer, gave him the spit to get the job done, making his saliva disappear in the grinding of both palms together, "I'm gonna ace this!" Strangely, it started out with fear. Two rolls of the wheels, that fear lifted, after hearing Thor edge him on, barks like `come on, you can do it!' Finally at the gate, Jay throws his fists in the air, announcing, "Yay! We did it Thor! You and me!" he reaches down and gives Thor a hardy hand-hug. After all that work though, he didn't see Tim! "Now, where did he go?" It did occur to Jay, a person, wanting to get in, all they had to do is walk around back and could walk in with no sweat! Regardless, he did feel like this was a challenge and thinking about Peter, what he would or could say, if he turned back without `completing the mission', opening the gate, well Jay just did not want to leave himself up for criticism. With new gumption, he dragged his canine into this, "We're gonna finish this, Thor!" One thing he realized, the gate opened in, instead of out to Surf Walk Lane. In order to pull it open, he had to move. Making the sound himself, to warn Thor, Jay mimics a backhoe, "Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding," throwing the wheels in reverse. He was also keen on not backing up over any `paws!' "Good boy," he awarded Thor and not himself, doing a good job in the reverse action. Then he condemned himself, staring at the latch on the gate, locked, "Oh damn!" Taking it in stride, he turns to his helper, "Thor, you want to go over there and unlatch the gate for me?" He even pictured Thor, doing what Lassie or Rin Tin Tin could do, bravely, with staunch shoulders, walk right up and face the problem and solve it...only, Thor just sat there! "Plan B, do it myself!" Thing is, instead of treating this as an obstacle, allowing it to cause a mountain of anxiety, giving excuse to retreat, Jay faced his problem head on, "Okay, gate...you're going down!" Call it selfish, all this time Tim wasn't his goal, but getting the gate unlatched and open, which when he butted his knees up against it, he faced another problem. He could reach the latch, but once opened and backed away, it locked itself again, "Grr-r-r-r!" A double take, which made him laugh, when Jay growled, Thor did the same thing! "Easy boy," Jay gave Thor's tensed stance a workover, hand to the neck, massaging. "Looks like we have to draw up a Plan C!" Sitting there, tapping fingernails on the metal armrest, Jay came up with an idea. Backing all the way up the walk to the door, a chore, but thinking of it as a carnival ride, Jay slips an arm through a crack in the door. Feeling the wall up, unseen, he finds his target, "A-ha!" "Wait till Peter sees this one!" Pulling arm back to his own perimeter, he holds Thor's leash. Second time, working his way across the mine field, seemed like a piece of cake, which later on, Jay would think it out, find that going faster over small obstacles worked easier than slowly. Thinking about it, instead of doing, wasn't necessarily the wiser choice! "Ok, now we're cooking, boy!" However, the end of the leash, attached to the gate latch, when pulled, by the force of Jay backing up, popped right off, "Rats!" Another strange happening, instead of cursing himself out, Jay laughed out loud, at least awarding himself and Thor, "Oh well, we had a good idea, didn't we?" This time, when Jay reached down to pet Thor, his hands play with the collar around the dog's neck, "But maybe all is not lost yet!" With the chest strap, Jay could not reach to the side of the chair, which made him order, "Come here, Thor," hand on the collar calling the dog to walk around to the front of the chair. "If you dare run off, they'll be no `stick-on-the-beach for one whole month!" Jay warns, unfastening Thor's collar. For whatever reason, the leather edge of Thor's collar worked, whereas the metal fastener failed. Pulling the gate open, it stayed that way, Jay again throwing his fist in the air and heralding success. Wrapped up in himself, he didn't even think about Thor taking off, but found he hung around for the `party,' perched with front paws on Jay's lap, sharing in the congrats! Success short-lived, Jay wondered if all his efforts were in vain, rolling out to Surf Walk Lane. It made him smile. If Jake didn't spend all that time moussing up his hair, getting ready for work, he could have gotten his surfboard and made a quick dash to the ocean. He knew the best waves were during or right after a storm. Wait too long and it's your own fault you missed out! Sad thing, it made him want to jump right out of the chair and do it himself! Stuck on a small pothole, Jay outed himself with an abrupt lurch out the fence perimeter and into the road, "Oh shit!" Instant he cleared the gated area, some dude was walking with his board, it going right in front of Jay's upper bod! The dude yelled the same thing and with quick reflexes pulled to the side, which made his board careen into some other surf-dude's board. After all that buildup, Jay panicked, "I'm so, so sorry," he misted up. Fortunately for Jay, Tim hadn't made his way around back. Call it destiny, having to wait so long, he met one of those surfers who knew, like Jay, storm-waves could make for a good ride. When boards collided, it made a sound much like two cars. It caused to Tim to break off the kiss he was giving a dude, having pinned him to the fence at the corner of the yard, where Surf Walk Lane, casually renamed, `Surf Rock Road', drops off into soft sand after a few boulders. "Oh my god, is everyone all right?" Tim exclaims, rushing to Jay. "I'm all right," Jay realizes, "but look what I did to their boards!" Sure enough, like a black Cadillac hitting a white Corvette, both surfboards suffered surface damage. One thing which disturbed Jay, in a nice way, which dispelled some of the anxiety, the dude whom deflected his board away, didn't give a shit about his board, but was tending to his friend. Caught off balance as well, the other dude had fallen on his side. "No problem," they heard him say, "except I think I've twisted my ankle." This threw Jay into a downhill spire, on the brink of crying, "It's all my fault," he blamed himself, "if I was more careful..." Surprised beyond surprise, Jay heard the first dude say, "It was no one's fault. It was an accident." It made Jay feel a tiny bit better, being flashed a tiny smile, voicing his opinion, "Oh." Looking upon the scene, Tim helping the downed surfer, the other one dialing up 911 on his cell, Jay's comfort-blanket became `Thor', who hadn't taken advantage and wandered off! % Copyright 2015 T. Chase McPhee FiRE iSLAND BiKiNiS, and developing segments of this story, may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.