The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblance to real people is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons in towns, cities, or governmental areas, in 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. This is fiction. Use protection in real life. `Got condom?'
"Out In The Wild, Wild West" 33 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"Akkkkkkk...Akkkkkk...Akkkkkkkkkkkkk!" The thirty-two year old blond, muscled Dutchman screamed.
"I'm sorry I caused you so much pain, sir."
"It was inevitable, Grant. Release me from these bindings."
"Yes, sir. Right away sir."
What had gone around, came around, for Hans van der Beek. Several months before being favored by Voltaire, he had helped gain reprieve for a guard, sentenced to banishment from the fortress. What that would have entailed is being sold into slavery. However, being the fast talker he is, Hans quickly talked Voltaire into allowing Grant Otterstad to become his ward, to retrain, transform the unruly attitude into a model guard. In a matter of five days, Hans, with access to the dungeon, was able to accomplish the feat.
"Your nips look very sore sir. I'm sorry that...."
"Do not apologize, Grant. The only way to free me from that eternal torture was to remove the clamps from my nips. Now, let me enlist you in finishing what I have come here to accomplish."
Grant's look on his face showed questions.
"I'll explain, but we don't have much time. Loosen these bindings, Grant."
"Yes, sir."
Before meeting up with Hans van der Beek, going on two weeks ago, the twenty-nine year old recalled how uncooperative he had been. He looks back over the treatment, the whippings, the punishments for his insolence, before his `taming'. What he looked upon as disgusting, filthy, each night brought Grant around to the pleasure of mansex. In fact, so distraught with the idea of lying in Hans' bed, faced up, having to watch as the thirty-two year old blond-haired man parted his legs, cock being forced into his ass chamber, he had to be put in rope bondage. Not even through the first night of having his ass penetrated by Hans' twelve inches, did Grant surprise himself at how satisfying it could be to have another man's cock massaging his ass walls. He wondered how Hans could sense the opposite feelings he had, other than the possibility of experience as the cause, that made Hans untie his arms from the top of the bed. On the second day, of Hans training him, Grant could not believe himself that he was begging Hans to fuck him. Strange how things turn out!
After releasing Hans, he instructed, "Help me release these boys from their torture, Grant."
"Shouldn't we be thinking of ourselves, Hans? I mean, sir."
Thinking of himself, of the reasons that he dared to try rescuing Grant Otterstad, Hans placed one hand behind the twenty-nine year olds head, the other behind his back and brought their bodies together, tasting the honey-lips.
"It was `sir' in this God-forsaken dungeon. When we leave here, you call me Hans," He said to Grant in an ordering fashion.
"Yes, sir," Grant replied, then changed it to, "Hans, sir."
"C'mon. Let's get Manning and get out of here."
"Manning? Why is he so important?"
"I have been sent here to retrieve the young man, by his father."
As the two worked at lowering the winch on both Peter and Rosario, Hans explained how Peter's father, an entrepreneur, wealthy constituent in the Washington scene, had contacted the Secret Service, regarding the disappearance of his son. He had caught up to Peter, while painting on the side of the river in Maryland. Before he could approach the young man, Voltaire's thugs had descended upon him, taking the young man prisoner. Following them to this fortress, Hans found that rather than being forced into servitude, Peter had chosen to cooperate, unlike the other young man that Peter's balls had been tied to.
"There's no easy way to release them, Grant."
Before removing the chains from Peter's wrists, Grant had questioned the unbinding of their balls. Hans reported, like his nips, undoing the torture would be just as painful as the application. Grant, like what has happened to Hans, knew the feeling of torture applied to the body. As Hans unraveled the story of his coming here, he realized that the Dutchman had no choice but to punish him. In many ways, Grant thanked Hans for saving him from being sold into slavery. Thanked him for forcefully changing his attitude, even though it meant being whipped and tortured. The last thing he thanked Hans for was showing him how enjoyable mansex could be!
"Slowly, Grant."
"Okay, Hans."
To Grant Otterstad, he felt more relaxed towards Hans. Already, the serving side of his behaviour began to melt away. Feeling a bit strange about it, nevertheless comfortable, Grant had a tingly feeling in his mind, body and below, looking upon the six foot three man.
As he handed the pole to Hans, unwinding Rosario's and Peter's balls, Grant observed, "I know this is going to sound strange Hans."
"What is, Grant?"
"Strange thing is that right now I feel like getting fucked?"
"Later."
However, it wasn't without Grant getting a cocky smile from the blonde giant.
"I wish there was an easier way," Grant still voiced his opinion about a softer means to release the two men's balls.
Rosario and Peter continued groaning as their balls slackened.
"Well, at least their balls are not as red as they were," Grant mentioned, as an act of consolation.
As Hans handed the pole over to Grant, creating almost enough slack to untie their restrained orbsacs, he could see what a vast difference in Grant. If he could have even thought that two weeks ago he'd wind up loving this man, he would have thought of himself as being insane.
"Grant?"
"Yes, Hans?"
"Tonight I fuck you different."
"How so?"
"Tonight I take you... claim you."
"What does that mean?"
Hans didn't explain, just smiled. Grant let it be at that.
"C'mon. We untie Peter now."
"What about the other boy?"
"My instructions are to rescue Peter and bring him back to his father."
Grant helped Hans untie Peter.
Hoarse, from screaming and with not much coherence, they heard from Peter's lips, "I--I'm not... not leaving without... Ro--Rosario."
Looking across from where Peter had been bound, Hans and Grant looked at Rosario.
"Peter...don't...don't leave me...here."
It's Grant that made the observation, "We have to take him, Hans. Peter and Rosario are like us, I think!"
Hans saw that. He looked upon Grant, wanting to take him in his arms, not only for the warmth that radiated from his heart, but for thinking of another before himself. Two weeks ago, he pinned not only the rebellious attitude on Grant, but a self-centered heart.
"Well, if you're not going to do anything about him, I am!"
It had been a welcomed act of defiance on Grant's part. Hans, with Peter over his shoulder, smiled as Grant rushed to Rosario's aid, untying him and like Hans, let his body fall over his shoulder.
"Whoooooaaaaa!" Grant replied, as he tried steadying himself.
Grant, trying to be the muscle stud Hans showed he could be, wavered around before having to set Rosario down.
"I can do this!" Grant said, before Hans could speak.
He watched as Grant took in several breaths of air. Lifting first, Rosario's arms, he threw them over his shoulder.
"I can do this!"
Next, he put his shoulder up against Rosario's hairy chest, then after heaving, let Rosario slip up onto his right shoulder.
"Grab his legs and fast!" Hans shouted out.
"Whew! That was a close one!" Grant said. "Almost dropped the guy on his head."
"When we get out of this, I will show you how to get real muscle. Come on!"
As Hans went to leave the dungeon, a guard happened to be coming down the dungeon stairs.
"Hans, aren't you supposed to be...."
Grant saw the power in Hans' strength. With one swipe of his hand across the guard's face, and he was tumbling down the stairs.
"Quick, step to your right, Grant!"
Of course, it meant squashing Rosario up against the right wall, but it saved the two from falling down the stairs with the guard.
"That was a close one, Hans."
"C'mon. Let's get the hell out of here."
When they reached the top of the stairs, the door swung open, without them even touching it.
"Hans?"
Again, Hans automatically turned on the defenses.
"You can come with us Jason or--or I'll have to hurt you."
"I'll take my chances with you, Hans."
Grant Otterstad wasn't the first man Hans had `rescued'. Outside of Washington, thirty-one year old Jason Schmidt had been making his escape from his dastard deed of subduing Pedro Gonzalez, when he was ambushed by Voltaire's men, out on a drive to beefen up their slave pens. Before being mesmerized by Grant, Hans had taken a liking to Jason. In reality Hans wasn't surprised when Jason had opted to go along with them, nixing the work over from his fists.
"See if you can help Grant."
"Grant?" Jason replied.
Looking behind Hans, beyond the six foot three inch hulk of a man, ten steps behind, Jason looked upon the struggling twenty-nine year old.
"I `could' use some help here!"
As Jason helped to remove Rosario from his already slipping position off of Grant's shoulder, Grant paid more attention to Jason. After being `converted' by Hans, to the gay side, Grant thought it an excellent rule of Voltaire's to make every guard work bare-chested. Right now, the feeling of Jason's own bare-chest, sideswiping his own bare pec, in his attempt to help him with Rosario, made his loins pulse.
"Both of you... weaklings!" Hans called out. "One of you take his legs, the other grab him under his armpits!"
Another jolt of manliness rocked Grant's world, as his hands felt up Rosario's hairy arm pockets. He hoped Jason's mind had been involved in the rescue attempt, rather than looking to see his hardon that tented his leather pants.
"This way," Hans called out.
It was awkward, two men handling one, but they managed to keep up with Hans' agile steps.
With a bit of humor, in the face of danger, Jason says to Grant, "Nice ass, doesn't he?"
"Who?"
"Hans."
"Oh. Yeah," Grant replied, puffing his lungs, trying to keep hold of Rosario and keeping up with Hans. "You fuck him?" Grant asked, not sure where that came from.
"I tried."
"What happened?"
"He cured me of that notion real fast!"
Unknowingly, Grant's questions tried unraveling the mystery of whether Hans and Jason had something going on. Just fifteen minutes ago, Hans and he were professing their undying love to each other. Now he wondered where Jason fit in.
"Oh?" Grant questioned Jason.
"Does he have muscles! With one swipe of his hand, he had me planted in the bed, my legs up on his shoulder and his cock shoved up inside me. Damn, did that hurt. I saw stars, I tell you!"
Now Grant was twice as skeptical as before.
"Did you like it, Jason?"
The conversation ceased, as Hans told them to be quiet.
"Here, one of you take Rosario. The other hold onto Peter."
Since Rosario's pits had already been sagging from Grant's arms, Jason put down the other half and took Peter from Hans. In his haste to unload Peter's body, Jason and the twenty-six year old stood, chest to chest.
"Oh shit!" Jason cried out.
Hans, detecting some approaching guards, let go of Peter, without warning. As if imposing a passionate hugging, Peter fell into Jason's arms, their heads ear to ear.
"Ahem!" Grant cleared his throat. "Trying to steal this man's man away from him?"
"You mean these two are?"
Jason didn't need to finish his statement. Both knew the implications, as Grant needn't say anything further. Shaking his head up and down, nodding, gave Jason the final answer.
"Lucky guys. Both good looking at that," Was all that Jason could think of saying.
"I need to ask you something, Jason."
"What?"
Before Grant could get out his question, Hans came back to the two. Behind him two guards walked.
"Oh shit!" Jason gasped, ready to set Peter down to do battle.
"No, it's alright. They are with us," Hans replied, his hands showing a calming effect.
Neither Jason, nor Grant, said anything when they took in the view of the two guards, one with his hand over the shoulder of the other.
"Let's move it?"
"Here, I'll take that one," one of the guards that followed Hans, said.
With little effort, he took Rosario and flung him over his shoulder.
"I'll take the other one," the other guard offered.
To Jason, Grant said, "Muscles," gesturing with his own arm in an `L' shape, his other hand feeling up his bicep.
"Yeah, I'll say. Hans told me that if we ever got out of this, he would show me how to work up to being muscular."
Grant wondered what else Hans told Jason. Not feeling any animosity towards Jason, but still having a sense of jeopardy with his feelings for what they had started to build, as far as a relationship is concerned.
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Continued....
Copyright 2006 T. Luke McPhee This story may not be sold or made part of any collection without prior written permission.