Date: Sun, 20 Apr 2008 17:01:57 -0700 (PDT) From: T. Chase McPhee Subject: For Sale By Owner 45 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. % "For Sale By Owner" 45 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee % "Hey, y'know Vince, this stuff is really good!" Dustin complimented, shutting up with another fork full of puttanesca. "Yeah," Alex chimed in, "I never tasted anything with anchovies before. In fact, I can't even taste 'fish'. "Thanks guys. I appreciate it," Vince replied, all smiles, a certain sense of modesty to his attitude. "What was that?" Dustin suddenly says. Dead silence follows until they hear some stirring from the livingroom. "Jason!" Vince shouts out. Like a bat out of hell, he's out of the kitchen and streaking through the doorway like a bolt of lightning, Alex and Dustin on his tail. "What tha?" Just as surprised, Alex and Dustin stand there seeing Jason somewhat awake, Jarrett on his knees, his chest covering Jason's chest, both hugging. "Jarrett, what's this?" Alex asks. "I was sitting there watching him for the longest time. Then he wakes up calling for somebody named 'Vin'. He was getting pretty upset, so I 'had' to do something!" Slowly, Alex and Dustin look to Vince. Not at all what they expected, the thirty-four year old Italian is gazing down at the two, smiling. "You hungry kid?" In response to Vince's voice, Jason offers a weak, "Hi.. ah... Vin..." As if a tennis match, Alex and Dustin follow the conversation. "You almost went and did it this time, y'know?" Vince tells him. Kneeling there beside the sofa, Jarrett didn't mean to do it, but it didn't help to keep himself completely in control, what with his cock stick straight out, rubbing against the ruffle of the sofa. But his loins were not the sole reason he felt flushed with looking upon Jason. "I.... Know... than..." "What happened?" Jarrett asks, concerned. "He'll be like that for awhile, til morning," Vince replied. "In and out, til the sedative wears off." When they returned for their supper, Jarrett trailed along. Vince couldn't let the moment lapse, telling him, "Would be a shame if them there boxer shorts should happen to fall off!" He gave Vince an eyeful, Jarrett tugging at the back, his CK boxers dropping down, making his fuzzy ass crevice visible. "Show's over!" he called out, pulling them up so far they reached almost to his pecs. "Stingy show for the money!" Vince joked. "What money?" Jarrett replied. "The dinner I'm about to serve you?" Being just as wise, Jarrett said, "Well if I like it, there could be a tip in it for you!" % "I'm not so sure about this," Jim said, not waiting for the go ahead to talk or not, from the master. Seeing Jim's nervousness, Jack dropped the toughguy act and asks, "Not sure about what?" Looking all around him, Jim looked to his right arm, a leather cuff attached to his right wrist, a chain connecting to a ring on the cuff, stretching his arm up to the ceiling, a bit on a slanted angle, the repeat effect on his left arm. Both legs cuffed, stretched out from the middle, his feet standing flat on the floor, his whole body eagle-spread. "You're not going to do anything to my balls are you?" Pulling up a chair, Jack swung it around, sitting in it backwards and facing Jim. "What did you come here expecting, boy?" "I....to see how much I can take?" "Physically," Jack states. "Um, I suppose." "I can't go on guesses, nor supposes boy. What is it you want to come out of this experience knowing?" Then, thinking back to moments ago, outdoors when Jack leveled him to the ground with tucking his gut in with the handle of his flogger, he had an idea, telling Jack, "Maybe see how tough I am..." "Hmm," Jack thought, looking over ever square inch of Jim's bod. "Or how tough I can be?" Jim rephrases his answer. "Now we're getting somewhere, boy." Rising up from the ordinary wooden chair, Jack approached Jim. Looking him up and down, he latched on to Jim's right nip, giving it a pinch and turn. "Oww-ohhh-ohhhhhh," Jim sighed with a mixture and pleasure and pain. "Feel good, boy?" "Some." "Well if that is all you can take, it ain't much." Feeding right into Jack's hands, Jim asks, "How can I like build myself up?" "It takes something maybe you don't have boy." "Like?" "Guts? wait a minute. I'll be right back. Better I demonstrate it to you boy." Jim wondered where Jack headed. But the whole time he was gone all Jim could think about is recalling what Jack looked like. From head to toe, the thing which turned him on greatly was the fur covering. Not much on his head, but the goatee, pecs, and stomach was enough to fill his sense with a want to taste this man's sweaty bod. Interrupting him, his attention switched to the right as Jack was back, literally toting a guy, chain attached to a cuff around his neck, arms behind his back, cuffed, a chain between his feet as if a prisoner. "This boy here is what we term 'no limits'." "Right. So Bill tells me. You can do anything you want to a guy like that." "Fairly and reasonable, as I'll demonstrate here for you boy." When Bill had explained to Jim the different leagues of pain-takers, he pointed out the novices, the more advanced and the ultimate, 'no limits' guys, which virtually became equated to 'anything goes'. He watched as Jack's willing victim answered every question with 'Yes, sir'. If it was himself Jack was putting in the stocks, locking the wood down so it contained the guy's arms and head, Jim wasn't sure if he would be protesting or not. For sure, he would want to know what was due him before the action started. Here, there was no mention of what form of physical abuse Jack was going rain down on this boy. "Um, aren't you going to ask him if it's okay to use that on him?" Jim inquired of Jack as he let the leather fronds of the flogger untangle, holding them a few feet behind the bound victim. "Remember what I said about 'no limits'?" "I remember," Jim responded, expecting more of an explanation from Jack. He got it alright as Jack brought the flogger back way behind him and flung it towards the guy's back. "Oh shit!" Jim called out, hearing the lashed victim cry out, arching his back as he was bent over in his bondage position. He was even more astounded when the 'no limits' guy called out, "Thank you sir, may I have another?" This went on for nine more lashes, each time the asking followed by the delivering of the punishing flogger on it's victim's back. "Well? What do you think Jim? Can you handle it?" "What? Me getting whipped? I don't think so," Jim replied frankly. "His back looks kind of lacerated. He's gotta be hurting plenty." Smiling, Jack wasn't doing it solely because he enjoyed the feel of the whip in his hand. Yes, that was part of his enjoyment, but the other part was keeping his victim hard. In response to Jim's concern, he pointed out, "If you're worried about how much this boy is feeling the sting of the lash, just look right here!" Getting two eyefuls, Jim was amazed how a gooey strand of cum leaked out from the bound boy's cock, stretching all the way to the floor. Even more amazing, when Jack stroked his cock, producing more leakage. "Unbelievable!" Jim exclaimed. Reporting back to Jim, Jack confronted him, "It could be something that turns you on too, but you won't know unless you try it." Pausing, a bunch of thoughts running through his mind, the pros and cons, Jim finally made a decisive conclusion, telling Jack, "Okay. maybe one would be okay." "One? That's a wimps reaction. Why don't we try five?" Jim replies to that, "How about two?" "Four?" "Three?" Smiling, Jack figured if he played his cards right he would get Jim to settle for three. Standing behind Jim, he ran his hand over Jim's back. Feeling shivers up and down his back, Jim's reaction was to grab at his restraints, his fingers closing around the chained links. "Relax. I'm going to make sure your first set is nice and easy. Trust me, you'll feel like it's a massage." To himself, a whisper, Jim replied, "Yeah. Right!" By the time Jack fooled around, holding the strands of the flogger up to Jim's back, allowing him to feel the slack of the lash against the skin, the twenty-one year old sweated so more it was streaming down his bod. It didn't help the authentic dungeon remained heated by several realistic torches which lit the room and a basin of coals and fire. Finally he got annoyed at Jack's 'pussyfooting' around. "Alright, already. Will you just get with it, Jack?" Jim couldn't see the toothy grin on Jack's face. Making sure, he badgered, "So, you really want it boy?" "Fuckin' just do it!" Jim's yelled back, on the edge, going over it. "Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk! Oh shit! Oh shit!" He called out after the flogger slashed across his blades. "Felt good, didn't it boy?" "Are you crazy Jack? It stung like hell!" Being there before, a boy's first time feeling any kind of pain, Jack knew Jim was too occupied with the pain associated with the sting of the lash to notice the bead of cum forming at the tip of his cock, easy for Jack to see, with Jim's cock hanging down. "You... you got my pec!" Leaning in to Jim's right side, he ran his hand over the side of Jim's pec, same time tweaking his nip. "Ohhhhhhhhh," Jim replied, as Jack added in some soft nip play, meant to wreak pleasure on its victim. "Yup. Maybe we need to add a little more stimulation to this flogging." "What are you gonna do?" Jim asked, receiving nothing in the way of an explanation, only watching Jack walk over to a cupboard, open a drawer and remove something metallic. "How about a little jewlery to dress up your pecs, boy?" "Oh no you don't," Jim replied, seeing two clips attached to the string of metal chain, "You're not going to put them on me!" Setting the resistance on each clips to lightweight, figeting with each screw, Jack set each nip-clip at the least amount of tension. "Where's Bill? He said you wouldn't do anything I didn't want to do!" Having a hunch, Jack knew in the long run Jim might be thanking him. There was always that small percentage of doubt, but he had some good vibes about this boy, neglected for so long! "Get them away from me," Jim played hard-to-get-along, trying to move his pecs around so Jack couldn't attach one to his left nip. "Oh shit!" Jim called out when the clamp did it's job, squeezing Jim's nip meat together tightly. But much to his amazement instead of all out pain, when he arched his back he felt himself moaning at the awesome feeling, a little pain, but much more pleasure! % "So I don't get it. Why did Jason try to kill himself?" Scott asks, even though Vince has briefly spoken about Jason and his problems, mostly surrounding the treatment by his dad. To all of their amazement, Jarrett volunteers, "Sometimes it's tough to comprehend something unless you've 'been there'." Vince switches his attention from Scott to Jarrett, inquiring, "Have you 'been there'?" With Alex, Scott and Vince looking at him, Jarrett blushes a little. Shrugging his shoulders, he replies, "When I was sixteen. I was going through a lot of tough decisions about school and my dad. He was always on the go, traveling. Then suddenly my mom took sick." His attitude sunk for a moment, til Jarrett said, "I kind of blamed my dad for my mom dying. He wasn't there for her most of the time. When he wasn't he said it was my responsibility to take care of her. When this happened I thought it was my fault for not taking good care of her." Alex and Scott saw Vince's tender side showing, his hand coiling around Jarrett's as he said, "I hope you're not blaming yourself anymore, Jarrett." A small sniffle and filling up of his eyes, Jarrett replies, "I try not to, but sometimes it gets tough. My shrink has worked out some stuff with me. My dad told me he would make it up to me, but I don't think that's the point. He wasn't there for my mother and nothing he can do will ever change that.... I... I don't want to talk about it." Alex wondered how many times Vince had done with Jason, what he was doing with Jarrett now, hugging him, whispering 'shhhh' into his ear, saying tender words meant to calm him. He looked to Scott, sitting next to him and said softly, "Now there's a man with a heart!" "What's up... anybody got something to sober me up?" Devon, crossing the kitchen, didn't even notice Vince nor Jarrett, huddled together. Opening the refrigerator door, he rested on the door with one arm, the other moving things about. "What's this?" He asks, turning around to the kitchen table, saying, "It looks like guacamole!" "Looks more like moldy something-or-other," Vince says, over Jarrett's shoulder. "And who are you hugging my friend?" Devon asks, being possessive of the guy he brought home. Approaching Devon, he says, "The name's Vince Maselli and if you want I'll cook up something to relieve you of that hangover, if you want?" Of course Devon picked up on Vince eyeing him up and down, from the top of his head to his navel and lowrise CK's. "Yeah. Sure. Anything to alleviate this pounding in my head." Alex, still waiting for Kyle to awaken thought it wise to look over Vince's shoulder, with preparing the hangover elixir. "You learn this at nursing school?" "My mom actually. She was naturalist who believed in herbal healing." As he tossed in herbs, punched a hole in a tea bag, Vince said, "She put in a little bit o'this and a little bit o'that! There... now just a little bit o'hot water and voila! The magic potion is ready, if you don't mind serving it up to your friend?" Lifting the mug to his nose, Alex sniffed, crinkling it up and backing off. "Are you supposed to drink this?" Vince giggled, replying, "Well you don't take a bath in it!" Setting it in front of Devon, he too felt reluctant to imbibe. "Oh, dammit. It's not going to kill you!" Vince said, taking the handle of the mug, blowing some air over it, taking a sip and going, "Wait! Something's missing!" They watched as Vince hunted through the cupboards. "It can't be there," Alex told him of the cabinet near the fridge. "That's the liquor cabinet." Smiling, Vince went directly the spot Alex mentions. "Here the culprit is!" They watched as Vince dumped a good pour of the JD into the mug. "I'm trying to get sober. Not more drunk!" Devon complained to Vince. "Well if you don't want it, I'll take it!" The three of them looked at Vince, same flashy smile as whenever he thought something comical. "Alright," Devon said, "but if I die, I'm gonna sue the pants off ya!" With this houseful of hot young guys surrounding him, he wouldn't need any coaxing to achieve that status! Intent on watching if Devon bit the dust, Alex and Jarrett waited til he did as Vince did, blew across the top of the mug then sipped. Then he sipped again. And again. "Hey, not bad!" "Give me a sip," Alex said, his hand going for the mug. "Get your own!" Devon replied, making sure nobody was going to touch 'his' mug. % "How are things going?" Bill asks, his question meant for Jack. A breathy Jim replies, "O... kay, Bill." "What'd you say boy?" Jack calls out, the flogger whistling through the air, landing across Jim's back. Instead of a cry of pain, Jim yells out, "Things-are-going-okay-sir!" all in one breath, ending with a long sigh. "And what's this?" Bill asks, his fingers tinkering with Jim's nip-jewelry. "I tell you Bill," Jack replies, taking a breather from whipping Jim, "all this boy needed is some experience and look at him!" Along with Bill taking in the sweat, the moaning, Bill made the real test of Jim's will to resist pain, his cock and balls translating it into a plesurable experience. "Open you mouth boy!" Jack yelled when Bill lifted his precummed fingers to Jim's lips. "And how's my boy doing?" "Your boy? Mr. Muscles?" Jack looks at Bill and says, "Don't tell me he wimped out on you?" "Does a clock have hands?" Bill asked Jack. "Dammit! Where is he?" "The 'referees' came around and decided for him it was time to cut him loose and send him on his way," Bill told him. With attention on Jim, Bill says, "Looks like my boy is taking ten times more than 'your' boy, Jack!" Even though it was the first time Jack was meeting with this college jock, turning the session with him over to Bill, which seemed a fair deal since this was to be Jim's first hand experience, Bill's words made him blush a little. Instead of dwelling on his failures, Jack reflected on his success with Jim, saying, "He's got a ways to go, but this boy is destined to become one of my finest." "'Your' finest, Jack?" Bill questioned, considering he brought Jim here. Looking up at Jim, Bill could see how 'attached' Jack had become to him, Jack's hand working his own bod, wiping the worked up sweat from it. As he thought about it, he figured it would probably be for the best he not have a hand in Jim's playtime, being he was a coworker in the real world. Walking over to the stocks Bill nonchalantly says, "We could make an even swap, Jack?" as he rubs his hand up the bound boy's back. "Oh no you don't. It took a lot of time breaking that boy in," Jack says, abandoning Jim to debate with Bill. "All the more reason to do a switcheroo, Jack. You know how much more fun it would be for you to break in a 'virgin' slaveboy?" Bill was talking Jack's language. For Jack, his loins were already reved up, with working Jim over. Darting back and forth from the stocks to Jim, eagle-spread in cuffs and chain, he decided a young guy in his twenties would surely be more fun to play with rather than a man breaking into his thirties, even though he was fully trained for 'no limits'. As he slowly turned his back on the boy in the stocks, Jack rubbed his chin, already making a clear decision it was of an enjoyable nature, along with the hard work, to bring Jim this far in two hours. "Hmm," he said out loud, "imagine what a couple of months could do for him!" "What was that Jack?" Bill asked. Turning around, Jack held up a hand waist high, saying, "You got a deal there, Bill!" Neither of them asked for Jim's opinion, but contrary to the beginning of the discipline session, his outlook had changed. When Bill had returned, Jim felt pangs of despair, hoping Bill hadn't come 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.