Date: Sat, 6 Jan 2024 13:00:01 +0000 From: TCHASE MCPHEE Subject: 'YoGA MaT' 18 % This work of fiction is set in the format of real-world situations. Identifying details to real people, alive or dead, is entirely coincidental in nature. If a character from this story happens to have the same first name, use it to your advantage and put yourself in his place. The author is not responsible for leakage. % Countries have various rules regarding reading or viewing `adult material'. It is up to you, the reader, to research this subject, abiding by laws and conscience. The pages of this story contain 'adult material', intended for an `adult audience.' Bypass this warning at your own risk! % If sexual scenes involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if dude-to-dude sex & related stuff makes you wanna barf or is gonna screw up your mind, you should not read this story. % Sexual safety matters. Guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection and I don't mean going out and hiring a security guard...unless he gives your nuts and bolt a jolt! % Hey dudes, if you have enjoyed reading NiFTy stories as much as I have over the years, consider adding some $upport for `internet $pace' or else I will have to start cutting handsome, hairy or steamy characters out of my stories. Do you dare imagine a story without any tops? http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html % Give till it hurts...and if that's not enough, get with some s&m! 'YoGA MaT' 18 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee % Next day, as a result of last night's hemming and hawing, Logan with a stay-put attitude Lance, with Donato's help, was able to pull some strings to have Ritchie discharged. It was actually not Donato, but his influence over Dr. Pliars, which secured all the forms necessary to release Ritchie. "You know, Donato," Doc Pliars says, right in front of Lance, "it's not only you," he grazes a hand over Lance's shirt, "but the two of you who are up for payback?" At least Lance's throbbing balls were in agree with that, "anything you ask, I'm sure I can accomodate? After all, Donato is asking on my behalf and the least I can do is return the favor!" Feeling Lance's nip through his shirt, Dr. Pliars says, "I'm sure I can find some small gesture of repayment. What are you doing New Year's Eve?" Donato jumps in there, "we were planning on spending it with Lance's family." Quick-thinking, Jared says, "oh, and you didn't think to invite me?" "Sure, if you want to come?" Donato says, turning to Lance, "if that's okay?" Expecting more than the excitement of the New York Times Square ball drop, Lance says, "of course it's okay and if you're up for a little fun afterwards, feel free to pack your trunk with a few after midnight toy fun?" One nip elicited some moans from Lance, two, "mm, I'd love to see what these can take!" If the doc didn't let go soon, they all might catch a glimpse of what the end result could be. For certain though, even though the initial thrill was all good, walking out of the hospital with soggy briefs could feel a little strange! Donato to the rescue, "uh, don't you want to stop now and forgo Lance losing his load, for the build up to New Year's Eve?" Stopping the pull on Lance's pecs, Dr. Pliars says, "when you're right, you're right." Issuing Lance a diagnosis and treatment, "I'd suggest putting ice on your nips when you get home." Lance says, "you want to write out a script for that?" "Not necessary, but what I'd also like you to do, is, and this goes for both of you, refrain from any sexual activity which would have either of you wasting any semen?" Doc Pliars got a lot of flack from that, but then he threatened to leave his Santa bag of toys home! From the outside of the doc's office, kicked in, the footrest of a wheelchair hit with ramming speed, "we'll all ready to go, bro!" Neither Ritchie nor Logan had a a clue to what it was about, when Dr. Pliars comes over to the door, looks down at the bottom and utters, "that damage will come out of your hides, boys!" "Who, us?" Logan guesses. However, Lance is over there to intercept their attention, "he was just joking. Can you meet us in the lobby?" "If you say so," Logan says. We ulterior motives, especially after Doc Pliars sway his head towards the door, motioning for Donato to go with them, "uh, you guys need some help?" There they were, Lance all alone with Dr. Pliars, "so, what else would you like to explore, Lance?" "Not sure. I had just gotten into some of this kinky stuff, when the accident happened, and ever since it's been a rat race, trying to take care of my brother, with hardly a moment of peace." Circling around behind Lance's chair, Jared places both on Lance's shoulders and adds a little rubbing, "why don't you text Donato, telling him to go on ahead, that you are being required to fill out some paperwork." "I think I should be going with my brother." Lifting hands from Lance's shoulders, heading to the doors, there's a click heard, "nonsense. Donato is more than capable of handling things. Not to mention, since he's worked himself into a part time visiting nurse position, it will be a good way for him to see his new surroundings." "Visiting nurse program? I thought that was only a thought on the drawing board?" "Your brother is a very smart man. I think his idea of having Donato live at your residence will work in many ways. One way in fact, it will give him a place to stay and give up the need to squatting at my place." There were many things here, probably more, that Lance was just discovering, "he lives at your residence?" "Has been for a number of years. You'll love him living with you. He's a good cook, great at vacuuming, dusting, many household duties, including washing and polishing the car. You'll love having him around." "But I do all that myself, except Jae, who is our chef." Doc Pliars, who had worked his way from the door to his desk, left behind articles of clothing as he went, wearing only briefs and socks by the time he reaches Lance. "Well, now that burden has been lifted. Now you can live out some of those secret fantasies you've had tucked away all those years." Lance wasn't immune to Doc Pliars, sitting on the edge of the desk, his packed briefs within eyesight, "where is this coming from? Like, you don't know me." "Oh, but I do. The name, Friedrich Eberhard ring a bell?" "Rich Eberhard? Sure. You know of him?" "Not only do I know everything which I care to know about him, but he had quite a lot to say about you, after a little interrogation!" "What tha fuck?" "Don't worry, it wasn't a for real interrogation, but he did feel the need to share. After I had his nips in traction with his balls and with every strike of the strap, he was giving me more than I needed to know about the men he hung around with." "Yikes!" "Yeah, he was like a pig in shit, even though afterwards his nips were purple, as well as his balls. Nothing that a couple of ice packs couldn't sooth. But you must've meant something to him, being you were the last guy he confessed to playing with." Biting a lip, Lance cautiously says, "oh, and what exactly did Rich have to say about me?" "That you were a masochist as well and you couldn't do anything for him, so you two sought out a man who could fullfill both of your fantasies, that you wound up in a one-on-two situation, often having your nips or balls wired together, that the final apex of your nights of play involved creating a slick mess of cum on his darkroom floor." Lance felt he had to adjust the story, "um, it wasn't only Rich and myself who wet the floor up?" "Oh yes, Master Sigfried did say he had other playmates, but when it was at a night's end, how all the masters stood around, drinking their beer, watching you boys with your arms secured behind your back, licking the floor clean." "Not really something I enjoyed," Lance says. "Maybe so, but it never kept you from coming back for more?" "Yeah, you're right. I never heard. What happened to Rich?" "He still comes out to play. Him and Sigfried to a liking to each other. He's been marked with multiple piercings." "Really?" Lance questions, "I thought Rich was scared shit of piercings, said he would never get one." Jared laughs, "yeah, that's what Sigfried told me, that he almost fainted when he had a ring put through the head of his dick." A gulp later, Lance is saying, "not my thing." "Good to know. I do respect my playmates, what they like and don't like doing." Thinking of maybe becoming a slave to Dr. Pliars, "so, how long will I be indentured to you for getting Ritchie released from the hospital?" He stands to get a clear, man-to-man answer. "Indentured? Is that what you think?" With a gesture of a hand, waving it in front of Lance, telling him to rise, like slave to the master, he gets out of his chair. Except, instead of a master's command, Jared takes Lance by a rolled up shirt in his fist and draws him into a face-to-face position, kissing lips! "Well, that certainly is not what I was expecting!" The doc knew. In fact he had the feel of many a man, their needs, desires and based on the information he happened to come upon, meeting with his friend, Sigfried, "I know it's not, but give it time. I'm sure we'll work up to it." "I'm still not following." It's then Jared knew an explanation was the only way to clear up the vagueness, "you see, it's a result of Donato, first his raving about your looks, then a kinky side, which matched his own interests, got me going. Then, when I saw you for the first time, I thought more about relationship, more than all the other stuff." "Oh." "So, you get it then?" "No." Frustrated at explaining it, the doc results to a prescription for success to get his point across, giving Lance the works. Not only kissing this time, he employed hands, stripping off clothing, clearing his desk in one swoop of an arm, which would probably require a whole day to sort the tabletop contents, then after getting Lance's chest plastered on the surface, drops briefs to his ankles. "You know the principle of a man claiming his partner?" Lance clutches the far corners of the broad desk, bracing himself and with things flashing before his eyes, "strangely, I don't really know you, but I want this." No one could want this more too, Jared having stroked his 8c into expert plowing condition, "like I said, I'm not into doing anything anyone doesn't want. If you want to back out, no pun intended, now's the time." Lance held his stance rigidly, his own shaft hard, rubbing against the mahogany veneer. Earlier he had a fixation for Donato, but knew he's not the type of man who could give him what his heart yearned for, "just do it." With his shaft already fitted with a condom, Jared was 'right there', only to backdown, "with a righteous mind, I can't." Standing, tearing his front off the sweaty desktop, Lance turned around, sat his ass on the edge, then leaning back, elbows supporting him, "I understand," he really did, without all the conversation to back him up, "I really do. Maybe we can get a little more serious about committment when we get to know each other more." "Wow, you're like right on it." "Thanks, but I really hate to leave you with the anxiety of all that pent up emotion?" Lance's eyes made a beeline for Jared's hand, still in the process of keeping it hard. "Really?" "Yeah," Lance says and not waiting for the go ahead, drops to his knees, almost. "Um, you need to move back?" Wherever the energy came from, Jared, behaving like an x-man, swoops both chairs away, leaving ample room for Lance to stoop down to his knees. "No, I got a better idea." He's never done this, never in all his dreams would have thought of doing so, but got down on the carpet, lay down on his back, and says, "c'mon. Bring that meat over here." "Huh?" Lance wasn't getting it. "You do know what a six-nine is?" "Yeah, but." A motion of fingers, swaying him to get down on hands and knees, positioning his shaft to hang in Jared's face, Lance was neither for or against the action. All he knew is that his hard shaft was too long and loaded to leave the room without going on empty. He sighed, moaned out loud, feeling the tip of his cock clear Jared's lips, "are you sure about this?" Showing he was sincere didn't take words, but action, yanking on Lance's hips, which made him collapse, impale, both their cocks slipping in the wet orifices. % Meanwhile, Steven was there with the van, not the usual, but given the heads up the day before, had taken the old vehicle back to the dealer and managed a trade in. A new manager, Steven was able to secure a big discount, after both were locked inside the manager's office. "Steven, what did you do?" Logan questions. "I thought you would like a brand new, shiny blue van that fits two instead of one wheelchair?" "Is this Lance's idea?" Steven kept on getting distracted, by Donato, who had managed Logan, which Ritchie was able to propel his own chair one-handedly. "No, it was mine. Your brother had texted me with the idea and left it to me to sort out." Logan says, "thanks, Steven. I guess I own you something," he guesses, "like a kiss?" Smiling, Donato had his own thoughts, of helping Logan out, planting a kiss on Steven's lips. Too, if he got that close, certainly it would not stop there, hands roaming until they found something worth stroking! It didn't take long, with the immense inside of the truck, to position two wheelchairs, side by side. "Wanna ride upfront with me, Donato?" "Yeah, might be nice to leave these two lovebirds to their own privacy!" Steven did question, "wait, Lance is not coming with us?" "Nah," he knew the truth but left it sketchy, "he has some business with Dr. Pliars to sort out. You know, about meds, etc.?" "I see. Okay," looking into the rearview, "are we ready to rock'n'roll?" With no answer, Donato turns around to see what's up, expecting to see hand-holding at the least, the two with their heads nodding, chin to chest, asleep. "Nope, they're out like a light." "Hey," Steven says, "you wouldn't mind if I stopped for a coffee?" "As long as you make it two?" % The town was all a bustle for the tree lighting ceremony, which in order to have the town hero, Ritchie flick the switch, they had to postpone a day. Meanwhile, down at the gay pride center, tents and goods were being checked and rechecked, inside the center auditorium. Duncan and Rick were the last two left behind, checking off the last two items. "Bottled water?" Rick calls off. "Check," Duncan slashes the little square with a pen. "And last but not least, 'condoms'?" Duncan says, "don't worry, it's not for us grownups, but just in case the campers get a little too frisky!" "I don't know about you, Dunc, but it's happens like twice a day at least that I can get more than a little frisky?" "Oh? How many times have you been frisky today, Rick?" "Nothing significant until you happened by," Rick rubs his 5 o'clock shadow. Standing there like the foreman he can be in his own landscaping business, hands on hips, Duncan says, "why do I find that hard to believe?" Rick knew he wasn't going to be able to hide this one, "okay, so my loins did start to get a little fidgety when I pulled over a carful of frat boys and cited them for non-wearing of seatbelts." "Hm," Duncan again rubs his beard, "any worth taking home?" "Of course," the cop says without hesitation, "all of 'em!" "And?" Smirking, Rick says, "I'm not into robbing the cradle. In fact, I'm hoping to meet up with a nice hairy bear in the woods!" He laughs. Duncan knows whom he is referring to, "hm, it looks like you have the camping trip all planned!" "Oh, I'm not going on the camping trip. I'm just helping Bill with equipment inventory." Duncan gets the last laugh. "What?" "I heard Bill talking before. Seems that a parent pulled out, something about the wife going into labor, so he couldn't possibly help chaperone." "So, what does that have to do with me?" Rick could guess! "Guess." "I'm trying to avoid it." "There's two sides to every coin." "Yeah, 'heads' and 'tails', I'm sure there will be plenty of that to view." Getting in Rick's face, Duncan, who was a couple of inches shorter, made up for it with his moxie, "Bill says your only needed during the day to chaperone. At night you can crawl in the tent with me." "Is that supposed to be some kind of incentive?" "I oughta work you over for that remark, but..." "But what?" "You might like it too much?" That comment made Rick nervous, especially Duncan's smile, like he knew one of his deep, dark secrets. "Like, what's that supposed to mean?" "I happened to be at a gardening exhibit this past summer and met a former police officer, who says he went to academy with you and while there, met up with this attendee, who showed an interest in not only working out, but how to measure test results?" There was only one guy who fit that description, Rick saying, "that wouldn't happen to be Owen Sebastien?" Duncan smiles, "he mentioned your name too. Same smile. Then I asked if there was anything in particular he remembered you for, you know, a certain joke, or something funny that happened during training?" Rick, who was known for being cool, calm, collective, suddenly felt hot under the collar, "Which," Duncan turns up the heat, "he did mention this quirky little thing that you and he could get into?" "If you know what is it, why don't just damn well say it, Dunc?" "Because it's more fun watching you squirm?" he laughs heartily. Rick dismisses it, "ha, me squirm? Never." "I suppose you're going to tell me those sweat beads accumulating on your chest are a result of hauling ass?" One thing he knew about Duncan, he could worse than an interrogator, a man always out to the get the truth and the gnawing at a person could very well make that person cave, give in, speak the truth or forever be tormented. Once upon a time Duncan had an employee named Olav, a summer college student, earning tuition money for the fall. Late to work, the boss had a hunch his worker was lying, making excuse for being tardy, but not the one in which he stated, that he had to run back inside his apartment for his lunch. "So, where's your lunch?" Olav said inside his truck. Come lunchtime, Olav didn't have a lunch sack. Through Duncan's persistance, Olav was found to have a trick last night that wanted one more go around and since his shaft was pumped up into peak pefection, he felt he had no choice! Rick had bent over to pick up another sack, Duncan saying, "so, is that the position you used with your supervisor?" "You're not going to let up on this, are you, Dunc?" "Nope," the landscaper says, folding arms across a massively dark-haired chest. "Okay, but you've got to promise not to tell. I've got a reputation, you know?" Duncan didn't move a muscle, except as he often did around men, out of habit, brushed thumbs over his pec spots, "my lips are sealed." Though, Rick wished Dunc's lips were sealed around his hard shaft, which right not began to bulk up, which he felt no harm in trying, "yeah, about those sealed lips?" Rick's hand found his way down to his zipper area. Duncan steps over, like Rick might have stirred up an interest, first rubbing the back of his hand against bulging balls.Taken to turning a hand so it cupped under the rounded orbs, "hm, it does look like I started something there, Rick." "So," Rick smiles, the cop thinking he's got it in the bag, "don't you feel obligated in the least?" His smug smile turned to a frown, Rick gasping, "eeek, Dunc," pulling away at the way one of his sacs was cinched up in the knot of Duncan's thumb and index finger. It only served to make it worse, Rick's ball sac stretched to a limit. "Oops, sorry. My bad!" Regardless, instead of a remorseful repose, Duncan was laughing his ass off. "You think that's funny, do ya," Rick says, feeling his sore ball sac, has an evil thought of getting even, grabs Duncan's whole crotch muscle. "Akkkk, oh shit, oh shit. Noo-ooo, let go, let go, all right already, I give, I give!" Not the end of it, Duncan, who has been brought to his knees, looks up at Rick, hands on hips, laughing like crazy. Mentally thinking, 'you think so,' like Rick's done him dirty and thinks he's getting away with it, Duncan makes a fist and pounces it down over Rick's bulge! "Dammit! Oh fuck, Dunc!" There Duncan sat, legs spread, still feeling the tenderness of his balls, or maybe it was a combo of mixed feelings, some divided between himself and what his friend was feeling, "oh, I'm so, so sorry, Rick!" Caving in, Rick's knees came to rest right between Duncan's legs, hands bracing him against the floor on both outer sides of his friend's thighs. They must've thought play like this would go unnoticed, except that Phil Foshay, the nineteen year old rescue the two men had been trying to rebilitate, has walked in upon the scene, "shit, Rick, I didn't know you bottom?" Even though his balls were aching, from two different perspectives, first with sexual thoughts and desires, then Duncan's fist pounding, the sound of a third man's voice made Rick jump to his feet, "oh shit, Phil, you should at least announce when you come upon a guy?" Phil could care less about protocol, "oh really? Looks like you were ready to pull Dunc's pants and make a feast out of his loins?" Rick says, "it's not the way it looks, okay?" Duncan resorts to merriment, "don't believe him Phil. If you hadn't come along, Rick would've had my shaft between his lips and sucking me down like a vacuum hose!" Rick mouths, 'vacuum hose?' Rick and Duncan exchange glances. They both laugh, at which time Rick reaches a hand out. Duncan accepts the offer to haul his ass off the floor. It gives Phil the moments he needs to assess the situation, coming to a conclusion, "hey, I didn't walk in on anything, did I?" Rick takes the question, "what would make you think that?" For one thing, Rick wonders if it's the bulge in their pants. Doing a spot check, he glances to Duncan's crotch. "What?" Duncan says. Often it could happen, feeling something down there, but doing a visual check to make sure what he felt is actually happening. Phil picks up on it, something he recognized when he walked in on the two, "I would say, Duncan, you've definitely got the bigger one!" Laughing, Rick scorns that decision with a sneering look of his nose, something that comes natural for him when someone says something distasteful. At the least, what Duncan could do is stand up for the man who offered a hand to get to his feet, "oh, but a few minutes ago, Rick, he had this raging hard on," said while projecting the size with two hands in the air. Not scared to mention it, Phil, who in between college hours, meets with men for college cash, "well, my 2 o'clock bailed on me, so if you're up for it, I can take care of you both, two for the price of one?" Duncan gets serious, "hey, wait a minute, wasn't it Rick and me who helped you when you didn't have anywhere to go?" Phil hoped they forgot! "Yeah," Rick also recalls, "and wasn't it 'I'," he parks a thumb in his own chest, "who spoke with the dean, to get you in college, even though application deadlines were over the previous month before?" Thirsting for the off duty cops bulge, Phil uses this as a way to get to it, "only serves to get you what you deserve?" A keen eye to Phil's hand, about to touch his bulge, Duncan says, "the boy's got a point there." A resurgence in his balls, Rick was ready to give in. Throwing a curve into it, Duncan's cell phone rings. He talks. After disconnecting the call, "hate to tear you away from this moment, but we gotta go." "What could be more important than this?" "I know," Duncan says, "I side with you Rick, but you know when you promised that kid at the grocery store, saying if he ever needed anything?" "Kid? What kid?" "Logan, I think his name was?" "Oh, that kid. What about him?" "The hospital is anxious to get rid of him due to the fact he and his boyfriend have become quite the celebrity couple and business is being compromised by people in general and the press." On Phil's mind, "um, are either of these guys, cute?" Whether cute of not, Rick figures Phil here needs to learn some values, more than if a guy is cute and whether or not he is, does every situation need to lead to sex, "I think maybe you need to find out for yourself, Phil." Same time, caught off guard, when Duncan tosses Rick his shirt, he catches it in the face, which prompts him to look at the tosser. "Next time, pay attention." "Um, what happened to my tee shirt?" "You weren't wearing a tee shirt?" "I certainly was. I always pull a white tee on before putting on my uniform in the morning." Phil loves following these two hot men, except for when they feed their arms in their shirts, covering up their hot bods! "Well, you must've forgotten today, because," Duncan does a quick perimeter search, "there isn't any white tee to be found!" It would be interesting to see what Rick would say, if he knew Phil had stolen it, ditched it in a pocket, to smell later. "I did have a tee shirt on." "Well, if you're gonna cry about it," Duncan tosses Rick a pack of 'Dude Wipes', meant for the camping trip. Rick tosses them back, "they're for your ass, moron!" "Nah," Duncan giggles, holding his junk, "this is for your ass!" "In your dreams," Rick says. Phil has an idea, "if you need some place to put that, Dunc, I've got an idea of where to stick it?" "Just get in the truck," Dunc tells Phil. Rick went to the back of his truck to make sure everything was locked down. Duncan says as he ushers Phil in, "got a little souvenir for later, I take it?" "What do you ever mean?" Taking a tad of the white tee sticking out of Phil's pocket, "this?" Hearing the driver's door jack, Phil plants it back into his pocket, "will you shut up about it!" Duncan laughs, saying, "I'll be thinking about you tonight when I take off the grungy briefs I've been wearing all day long!" The last laugh is on Duncan, Phil leaning over, "wouldn't you much rather have my tongue tickling the source?" He did feel an uneasiness at that, Duncan's asscrack feeling a little squeamish, sitting back with a smile, as if he was already making a connection with the nineteen year old! % Meanwhile, everything at the hospital was a buzz, press worried about who was going to make the breaking story of the day. Some hospital personal tried becoming a part of the picture, phones out and filming, in hopes of boosting ratings of their blogs. Ritchie, with Logan at his side, sat their in wheelchairs, waiting for their ride to arrive, "I didn't know being famous could tire a guy out so much!" Fame was once a topic where Logan was concerned, but now that they were on their way out of the hospital, "that's okay, Ritchie. Just think, tonight we'll be spending our first night together." It's not that Ritchie hadn't thought about it, "yeah, that's cool." Without the enthusiasm as first thoughts, Logan says, "you're not happy with me?" "No," Ritchie places a hand on Logan's arm, "it's not that. This whole thing, it's very tiring." Coming from behind, Donato exclaims, "things sure do move fast, when you're in connection with a celebrity!" Knowing Donato meant him, Ritchie claims, "I'm not a celebrity." Logan was all over him about it, being the first to tell him, "yes you are Ritchie!" Ritchie caves in, having seen time and time again, how affectionate Logan can get, cuddling up to his arm, rubbing his head against his bicep, as if trying to summon a genie from a lamp. "Okay. I give." Donato smiles, seeing how attracted they are to each other. He had originally thought he and Lance might have something going for each other, but he also knows how possessive Dr. Pliars can be. Refocusing on Ritchie and Logan, he hopes to get to the bottom of his own attraction, "hey guys?" Putting a halt to their kissing, Ritchie takes the upper hand, "what's up, Donato?" "I was just wondering something," Donato wasn't sure how to put this. Logan says, "well, what is it?" "Going back to this morning, do you guys remember what I was saying, about the three of us?" Logan, who probably remembers less than Ritchie, "of course. Lance says he's going to get you to be our live in nurse. When do you start?" There was more to it than that, Donato thinking maybe not the ideal to bring his original thoughts up, but choosing words which could not put a damper on the idea, "do you think we could start that arrangement tonight?" He mainly focuses on Ritchie, but Logan jumps the gun, "of course we can." Ritchie smiles at Donato, perhaps with a different motive in mind, "I think it might be a good place to start." After saying it, the truck arrives by which Rick is to transport not the passengers, but the wheelchairs in the rear bed. "Hey, Officer Rick!" By now, Logan had thought incessantly about the handsome cop who he regards as the second person who has saved his life. "I bet your anxious to get home, Logan?" "You got that right," Logan flashes a smile at Officer O'Shea. Throwing a curve ball into all this glee, Lance shows up, saying, "there's been a change of plans." They all look at Logan. "What's up, bro?" "In my own opinion, I think it would be best if Ritchie and Donato stayed at their places, until we can figure out better sleeping arrangements." "That sucks," Logan says. "I know," Lance kneels at Logan's chair, "but right now there's no extra bed for Ritchie." "I can take the couch," Donato offers. It's as if Lance never heard him, "we can think more on this tomorrow morning. Rick, would you please take Logan to our van." "No," Logan stammers. "Logan?" Lance says, as if his strong-willed meaning is going to change things. "No, I'm putting my foot down this time," which Logan meant figuratively, except he actually picks his foot up and slams it down on the wheelchair footrest. Donato comes from behind, "do that again Logan." "Do what?" "What you did with your foot." "What'd I do?" Lance says, "this is nonsense. Rick, would you get Logan to our van?" "No, I'm not going!" Standing his ground, or rather sitting, Logan throws his arms around Rick's trunk, as if chaining himself to a tree. As Lance is about to use physical force, Steven shows up, "hey, hey, what's going on?" Logan says, "Lance is acting like his own dorky self. I told him I'm not going home, that is, without Ricky and Donato!" It's something, as of a day ago, Steven had seen a change in both brothers. Something was tearing them apart and he knew exactly what it was, "Lance, we talked about this?" They had, Lance being given the lowdown on how all these years, his brother's care had been his responsibility. Others coming along, seemed to be taking it away from him, which bothered him greatly. Steven places a hand on Lance's shoulder, "think of this as not hindering Logan, but helping him to better himself, which in turn could help lessen your burden?" "I don't need your fuckin' sympathy, Steven, so fuck off!" At the same moment, Lance shucks Steven's hand off his shoulder. Turning to the brother, the family psych says, "go with it for now, Logan and we'll sort all this out tomorrow." "Not tomorrow, not anytime, Steven," Lance gets adamant! "You're fired, remember?" Logan again speaks up in defiance, "no he's not, because I rehired him!" Not getting anywhere with Steven, Lance regresses, picking on Donato, "well, as for your idea of having a personal nurse, you can forget that. I won't have an ex-con living under the same roof!" Ritchie says, "you were in prison, Donato?" Speaking up for himself, "I did one night in jail for a DWi stop." Right now, more on Logan's side, Rick says, "oh, that's nothing. If anything, the arresting officer looked at it as sleeping the night off." Whatever anyone said in Logan's defence, Lance turned it back to his own side, and eventually everyone got tired of the battling. Unhappy as he was, Logan was reminded of Lance having power of attorney over him and as much as it was protested he was old enough to make his own decisions, the brothers went home together. However, Steven was not about to get swept under the rug, saying he didn't do anything which warranted being dismissed, so he went home with them, even though getting the silent treatment and feeling like treading on rocky road. Suddenly Ritchie felt so so alone, "I guess I'll be going back to the dorm." Donato says, "I'd invite you back to my place, but I live with my brother and his wife. Trust me, they tolerate me being gay, but if I even hint about bringing home a guy?" He places a hand on Ritchie's shoulder, "I wish I didn't have to turn you out like this." Rick had been mulling it over, "I've got a guest room you're welcome to use?" Ritchie's attitude brightens up, "full or twin size bed?" Smiling, Rick says, "big enough for two?" Although, Rick's mind was thinking three could fit comfortable! Thinking back, of that beautiful hairy six-pack, Ritchie asks, "are you sure, Rick?" "I wouldn't have offered unless I meant it. C'mon. Help me get Ritchie and his chair in the truck." Duncan rode with Rick, Donato drving his own wheels, with Ritchie his passenger. "I bet you're going to miss Logan tonight, you and he as your first night together?" "Yeah." Ritchie didn't want to mention it, but a little more nervous that Donato would be in his bed. At thirty years old, he's seen his fair share of the occasional get togethers with men, sometimes waking up, hating to leave a handsome man in a bed, but quickly grabbed his clothes and skidaddled out of there. He always took a taxi or mass transportation, fearful a trick could check his license plate and track him down. Ritchie didn't know exactly what that was about, something ingrained in him that didn't necessarily warrant reasoning. He just did it. However, now that he was crossing over into that peak age of life, and with thinking what a hunk Donato is, maybe it's time to think about a steady guy in his life. However, as things go, Donato says, "y'know, I don't have to stay. I can swing back around tomorrow morning to see how you are doing?" "No," Ritchie says and after all that has happened, "besides, I think I need someone to hug me as I fall asleep." That made Donato smile, "really, even though you know I'm an ex-con?" % Steven wasn't about to be gotten rid of so quickly. At least he got one of the brothers to agree his presence was of a necessity in the household, but this was not born of pretense. For all of the years he's been at the Thompson home, not only has he found housing for him and his partner, broadening his own knowledge of the job (of taking care of a handicapped person), but Jae's welfare and wellbeing. He and Jae met at dodgeball practice, whereas his friend, Mike had suggested coming, after Steven's messy breakup. Well, it wasn't much a fair play of the game. What Steven found disturbing, when other guys hurled the ball at an opponent, most of the time they targeted the genitals! Though, there were those who took pleasure in testing a guy's abs, hurling the ball with all their might right above the bellyhole. Steven didn't think he fit in with a gang of muscleheads from the gym. When he stripped his polo shirt off, he sure did get a lot of admirers! During break time, Steven saw that his friend, Mike, was busy speaking with another, which had himself sitting down on a bench, all by his lonesome self. Years later both would talk it up, Jae saying it was he who instigated the talk, being he was the one who came to Steven, asking, "is this seat taken?" Glancing to his right, the long bench contained no other butts. On the left side, it took on the look of a deserted island, which sent up signals, "uh, yeah." "Really?" Jae questions him, hands on hips, that half tank top with a deep bellyhole, staring him in the face. After his breakup, Steven held back on meeting up with anyone new. It's not to say his receptors weren't picking up on the deep innie, black hair almost covering up the hole. Then, glancing upwards to that angelic of an Asian face, which later he would find out Jae to be Japanese. In a split second he had to make a decision to make excuse and walk away, or, "no, not really." Being a psychologist, Steven knew what to say and what not to say. For one thing he vowed not to bring up his breakup and all the grief that surrounds it. "I just want you to know, I'm kind of down in the dumps over my breakup?" Exactly what he didn't want to do, Steven instantly began to psychoanalyze himself, wondering why he just jeopardized the possibility of meeting a new guy of interest? "Not a problem. I've been through a couple myself." Jae giggling, "well, not a couple, meaning two guys at once. What I meant is one guy and then a couple of years later, a second guy." "I got what you meant." Shifting the subject from himself, Steven focuses on the game, "seems like these guys are out for blood, or as in most of the cases I can see, ball-bashing?" Not which Jae didn't pickup on, the reason he approached him, "you're new here, Steven?" "Yeah. My first time. I was invited by my friend, Mike," he points out, "over there." "Oh yeah," Jae says, "I know Mike. Sometimes he bends this way, sometimes the other." Steven was lost, "oh? How does the go?" "Oh, so you don't know really what this is all about?" "All about? It's a dodgeball game, right?" Steven sat there, waiting for Jae's reply. "Looks can be deceiving. If you take notice for instance, the guy with the ball?" "Yeah," Steven loves the shirtless look, smooth, except for the tiger trail from navel to where it disappears under the beltline, overall a nice looking muscle build, but not overly hunk-i-fied. "What about him?" "Notice how he seems to stand there, midsection wide open, waiting for a dude to hurl the ball, which happens to harshly bounce off his stomach?" As Jae speaks, it happens, the dodgeball heaved heavily at a guy's stomach, bouncing off the stripe, causing it's victim to cave in, bend over and drive him to his knees. "Oh man that's gotta hurt," but then Steven's opinion changes, "but he's acting like nothing?" "That's because he loves it." "How can a guy love having a dodgeball bounce off his stomach like that?" "Why don't you ask him yourself?" Then, as quick as Jae came into his life, he had vanished, leaving Steven in thought, 'ask him myself, eh?' After nine times, Steven counted how many times the dodgeball connects with the guy's abs, he walks towards the willing victim. He introduces himself, but not in the formal sense, "hey, I'm Steven." Reaching out a hand, the one not bracing his pink belly, "hey there, I'm Hasan." And before they disconnect, "are you a giver or a taker?" "Um, I'm not sure. I might not be either one." Steven quickly dismisses it, and wanting to be inclusive, "like, how would a guy find out?" Since Hasan is a taker, loving the feel of having his abs pummeled, "you look like the giving type." For certain, in another 'sporting' way, Steven could swing in either direction, but loving the feeling of easing his hard shaft into a manhole, "I just might get into the giving type. Um, just what is this all about?" At first, when a seasoned guy introduces the sport, "it's dodgeball. You know the game from high school, right?" "I do, but for sure, it's certainly not high school dodgeball I'm witnessing?" Intead of further charades, Hasan puts it out there, "the gist of it is, some guys like having their stomachs pummeled or balls handled, and I don't mean with care!" "That would mean," as Steven was perceiving it, "the giver is out to do harm to the taker?" "You're catching on. So, how 'bout it, want to get some practice hurling the dodgeball at my stomach?" Still sketchy on the details, Steven says, "I don't consider myself a sadist?" "None of us do. Sadist, masochist, we're just out to have some fun, and get the juices flowing?" Observing the sport, even with all it's twists and turns, Steven says, "I see some men like the ball tossed to their pubes?" "Hammered is more like it and yeah, some love the feeling of pain. No pain, no gain, right?" Hasan was laughing, but Steven still not convinced, "there's got to be some damage being done?" "That's why we've formed this club. A guy who likes to throw the ball at another, teams up with a newcomer. The whole giving and taking thing is a learned form of the sport." "I see," Steven says, witnessing how the roomful of twenty to thirty guys are partaking of the sport, a division between the thrower, matched up with a willing receiver. "So, which would you be up for?" "First," Steven thought 'first things first', finding out who the dark-haired Arabic-looking man, hairy from neck to navel, was, "I'm Steven." From that, having already met Steven, Hasan could tell he was nervous. Rather than following through with the conflict of having already exchanged names, "oh, I thought I mentioned it. My name is Hasan." "Steven," he noticed the non-use of surnames. Aware of Steven introducing himself even another time, Hasan lets it fly. "Okay, Steven, what's it gonna be, your abs or mine?" "Oh, so you're versatile?" "Many of us are, because some nights most of the players are receivers and we have to form lines in front of the givers." "Still, all in all, I'm not sure I'm getting the purpose of all this?" Cupping his own erection, Hasan says, "this give you an indication?" Steven gulped, thinking how massive the bulge must look when not covered up! "And," Hasan spells out the rules, "if a giver and receiver tend to connect, we might go home together and continue the game, but not necessarily the traditional dodgeball gaming!" Steven got the implication, having a strong desire about how hard the game could make him, wanting to take Hasan home and seeing how he could take his shaft up his ass! "So, how do I get started?" However things progressed, Hasan lost interest, Steven only being able to take two hefty throws to the gut before doubling over, on his knees and clutching his sore abs. Jae, who had wandered off, saw this and with sudden responsibility for what Steven was going through, felt accountable, walking back to him, on his knees in a huddle. "Looks like you're not having too much fun. Maybe not your game?" His attention drawn upwards, the first thing to hit Steven was not Jae's pink belly, but the fact his bulge was all shiny, something seeping out from the net of his briefs, which has him frankly saying, "did you come?" "Pre-cum. Always happens. But you, I can see you're not liking the game too well?" Perhaps, before, when he looked upon Steven, the visual was different. Now, helping him to his feet, Jae studies the furry chest, embedded stripe and questions, "maybe you like it afterall." Kind of shocked only two hurls of the dodgeball sent him to his knees, Steven hadn't taken notice, "oh my god, I've popped a boner!" From that alone Jae was sympathetic, but saying to a stranger anything about going home and fucking around, he didn't want to scare this hottie away, "how about we go back to my place and get some ice on those abs?" That day, forward, Jae and Steven have shacked up, living out an open relationship. Steven, more busy in his practice, plus caretaker, hired by Logan's brother is more tied down. Jae, who often is away from their home during the day, food shopping for not only their own household, but starting a business whereas he does the same for restaurants. He has also developed a clientele based on his 'red-rope' bondage. A the mention of 'red-rope', several lengths of red rope actually, Jae has branched out, men prey to wanting to be tied up, tied down, tied sitting or strung up to basement rafters, in the name of giving up control to Jae's whims, which could be tickling or, depending on their chat beforehand, more involved, the use of a strap, nip-clamps, buttplugs, or even one request he's had, sticking straight pins through a guy's nips. A benefit for both, it gets both men going, big bulges and long tubes, and lots of leaking, till they hit the apex of their actions, releasing huge amounts of pent of emotion. Jae thought about the sexual benefits, but it also takes a lot of time to tie a dude up in an intricate manner. And sex toys, well they don't come cheap. He's also become a 'salesman' for these clients, buying up bulk buttplugs and other toys, reselling them with a little profit in mind. All these years since they came together, Jae has been saving up, but not for himself. A deep love for Steven, he hopes to surprise him someday, possibly for an anniversary, when they've been together for years, a trip to Tahiti or something more simple, Disney World? % % Copyright 2023 T. Chase McPhee Developing segments of ''YoGA MaT' may not be amended, distributed, sold, used, quoted, paraphrased, chopped, sliced, diced, nor made part of any collection, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the author. Drones are prohibited from overhead viewing. _ Check here that you are not a robot.