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Give till it hurts...and if that's not enough, get with some s&m!
'SoLO ChRiStMaS | HaNNuKkaH' o3
WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
%
"I think you were confusing the hell outta Scott?"
Gio, as he fashions padded cuffs around the naked cop's ankles, the last step in securing his captive's X-stretched bod to the bed, "how so?"
"Antonio? Marco? Do I need to spell it out?"
"Okay," Gio confesses, "sometimes I falter. It's tough to fake it and call you Antonio, when you're name is really Marco."
He had thought about it just this morning, coming to conclusion, "well, since I'm retiring from the force and going to work in my brother's security firm, it won't matter if you use my real name?"
Gio smiles, knowing, jokes, "and which is it, Marco or Antonio?"
Pulling at the wrists, secured to the head of the bed, Antonio says, "you know I always liked it when you mistakenly called me 'Marco', and then left it at that?"
"Me? I beg your pardon," Gio stutters in his attempt to buckle the last binding, around Antonio's left ankle, "after I first called you Marco, you never bothered to correct me on it, led me to believe it was your real name?"
As Gio is saying this accusation, he's slowly wiggling himself, like a soldier in the trenches, towards his target, "so, don't give me any of that baloney, 'Marco'!"
He had thought about it, while Gio climbed up his bod. There was nothing he could do, thought he could protest, but too much loved the feeling of Gio's big balls dragging up his bod, till the tip was knocking at the door, "like, right now, you could call me 'cocksucker' and I wouldn't give a fuck?"
Worst torture, Marco has second thoughts, ready to taste what he knew to be, Gio's delicious sausage, the priveledge taken away when ass is lifted from his chest, "bastard!"
Standing there at the side of the motel bed, hands on hips, Gio says, "you know I don't take kindly to swearing, boy?"
Okay, so Marco was on the verge of wanting to taste Gio's semi-fat cock, the urge so great, saliva had built up in his mouth.
"Silence," Gio says. "Great, but just in case you can't keep your mouth shut, I have a little present for you."
The last time Gio used the phrase, 'I have a little present for you', was in December, right before Christmas, whereas they had been in the same motel, different room, and as usuall, was pinned to the bed by all four limbs and his 'present', had removed from his toybox a rather large size butt plug, a red bow taped to the tip.
"But you already gave me a Christmas present."
"Okay, smarty, then this is your Hannukkah gift, but like your Christmas present, you don't have to worry about it not fitting all the way in!"
At the sight of Gio pulling the fat butt plug out of the toybox, Marco was filled with fright, but a round ball with a strap attached, "oh, one of those. Okay. No sweat."
"Glad you feel that way," Gio brings the ball gag closer, "since I thought it could get us into another fun thing to do?"
"Wait," Marco says, studying the ball, as it's right in front of his eyeballs, "what's the hole in it for?"
Over time, they've developed a trusting relationship, Marco searching for a man who could help explore his darker side, Gio being that guy.
"Open?"
Marco opens his mouth.
After pushing it inside, Gio removes it, "I know you have a big mouth, but how did that feel?"
"Big," Marco says.
"As big as my cock?"
"No."
"Perfect then. Open up again."
Marco accepts the rubbery ball and feeling it not half bad a fit, tries and fails to communicate it, producing a few moans in place of worded opinion.
Removing it, Gio says, "what did you say?"
He had two things to say, "fits okay. What's the hole in it for?"
Gio smile, but let's Marco down easy, "in case I choose to not force my cock to the back of your mouth, sending my semen down your throat, all I have to do is place the tip at the entrance to the whole and you will taste every drop before you swallow."
"Nice. I'm definitely going to like my Hannukkah present!"
"However," Gio smiles, "the other thing, if I'm so fatigued after jerking off in your mouth and have a fierce need to urinate," he speaks like it's a joke, "I don't even have to leave the comfort of the bed to do it!"
He laughs his ass off, watching Marco go through the motions, "that's gotta be the most disgusting, grossest think I've ever heard of. No. Definitely not going to happen. No. You need to pee, you do to the toilet!"
Then, straddling Marco once more and like he was ready to beat the living daylights out of him, mounts him, cocks slapping against each other, like they were ready to do battle, Gio lowering down his chest, face to face, "like, you think you're going to get a choice?"
This was the thing, with Gio in particular, if a guy, even if he was bound to the bed, was given a choice and like Marco here, would respect his wishes, "frankly, Gio, I'd rather not. At least not now?"
"Good answer," Gio says and instead of further criticism, leans in and gives Marco a kiss.
Breaking off the lip locking, Marco says, "not which I don't love your kisses, but can we get on with the 'other' torture?"
"Of course," Gio says and like he's being a monster, "why do you think I have a raging hardon?"
Of the ball gag, he leaves it on the bed, at the top of Marco's right shoulder, "but we'll leave this here for now. Something to think about."
Just as he says it, they hear a knock at the door.
"Ah," Gio goes for it, totally in the buff, "now the real fun begins!"
It was Luis. He didn't wait to be welcomed in, walking through the crack, swiping right past Gio.
"I got another guy to watch the front desk for me. So," Luis rubs hands together, "what's the plan here?"
Behind the desk, the plexiglass shielding, Gio had one impression of Luis' build, which he suspected, the young guy must've been standing on something which elevated him up a couple of inches. Seems like a go-getter, not afraid to badger anyone into getting his way with them. Another couple of things about his anatomy, what appeared to be a slender guy at the desk, Luis' girth would hardly be called that, more that of a pudgy build, but 'damn', he was such a hot looking guy!
"Oh my, what have we got here?"
Seeing Marco totally naked, arms and legs stretched to all four corners of the bed, Luis just felt compelled to unbutton his shirt, for starters.
He turns around to face Gio, who stands there, stroking, juggling balls, "don't stop on my account!"
For a little pipsqueek, Luis didn't at all fit the style of one who dictates orders, nonetheless, "I have a better idea. You come over here and help."
'Nerve', Gio thought it, not even preceding it with a simple 'please'. However, since Luis was hot looking, complete with what he liked to vision a man, with a hairy chest, stripe down the middle and a navel visually deep enough to drink a shot of whiskey out of, "would be a pleasure."
Of the men he's met up with, sometimes, as the situation calls for it, he would jump off his throne and instead of ruling the court, would abdicate that power and allow another, which in this case, "I like when a man gets on his knees to strip my pants," Luis has a mind slip, "what is your name again?"
"Franco."
'Franco', the name he gave at the motel office, of course was fictitious, along with 'Phil', who was now tethered to the bed by ropes and furry cuffs.
"Franco. I know," Luis says, eyeing up the hostage as he peels his shirt, revealing a very hairy bod, "I took your information at the desk, remember?"
"Right," Gio says, thinking this guy is missing something 'upstairs'!
Luis had perused the room upon entering it, neglecting to study the naked man attached to the bed.
Protective of his friend, or else he might lose the close bond he and Antonio have built up, Gio says, "if you remember, this is Phil. He's married, so he can't have any marks when we're through playing with him."
"I will think of that when I am torturing him, but can't guarantee."
Torture could be a strong word, when used in different senses or scenarios. No one could know that meaning more than Gio, who has played s&m games with novices and his own encounters with men he's met up with three, four, five times or more.
Utilizing the waist of Luis' pants to stand up, Gio says, "well, let's get one thing straight. We play by my rules or you can turn around and walk right out the way you came in."
Gio wasn't sure his first instinct of inviting a cute guy to have fun in their room was the best idea. Now he waited, giving Luis a chance to mull it over.
"Does that include tearing his ass apart?"
That got Gio going, wondering what Luis was packing, "everything depends on size?"
Gio and Antonio weren't the only hard ones, though with Antonio it was tough to tell, his stiff shaft keeling over while lying on the bed, the tip touching his navel.
As for Luis, Gio says, "really?" Using his authority, stands there with arms along his meaty poundcakes, "prove it."
Luis didn't strip. He didn't have to. All he had to do is grab his junk up in a clump and anyone could see the enormity of what lay underneath the fabric.
Gio gulps, but seeing Luis has sideswiped his authority, "I meant in the flesh?"
Perhaps seeing Gio wielding his own power, Luis steps down, "the way I like it."
Gio was thinking, 'then why didn't you strip in the first place?' He went on to think there's something really fishy with this guy.
Antonio just lay there, taking it all in. He knows he licked his lips a couple of times, first when Gio stripped. Next, when Luis removed his shirt, he thirsted to get his tongue on those perky nips, then skate right down that thin trail.
Gio was impressed when Luis split his pants, seeing the bulge in his briefs and when letting out the pent up mass, thought what a deception, the effect of wearing pants had on his anatomical mass, and not allowing Luis to get the edge on him, "modest."
Luis knew the stakes, which is why he made his crotch seem larger than life, using what he wore as part of a hefty mass. Now that Gio has found him out, walks over and being nervy, takes both cocks in hand "might be fun trying to get us both inside at once?"
"Sweet," Gio gets a bad vibe, "but not with Antonio...I mean, Phil."
Luis faces Gio, "his real name is Antonio? Might be a nice angle, interrogating him and finding out what he really does for a living?"
Antonio had no clue to what extent Luis' torture would go, but for certain he didn't walk in the door carrying a toybox, the only instrument of pain, the belt he was wearing. Yet, as usual he kept silent, letting Gio do his bidding. Still, looking upon those two piece of meat hanging down, Antonio was ready for torture!
Gio and Antonio were s&m buddies, but of Luis, nothing, "let me make myself clear, we're not going to be doing any rough stuff."
Accepting of the fact, Luis says, "here, let me make it up to you."
Now Gio didn't know what to think, Luis sinking down to his knees, and with the hand he was firming up with, feeds him into his mouth.
Of what was about to happen, Gio could care less about now, Luis taking him up to the hilt, moving tongue around in the mouth, swirling around and around his welled-up shaft, "oh yeah, do it to me!"
Pulling off with a pop, Luis looks up at Gio, "you want more? You'll have to earn it."
With nothing to warm his shaft, Gio says, "you fuckin' bastard!"
Luis, standing up, laughs his ass off. It would have taken a minute, before having Gio's load swallowed down, only to have Luis fake him out, "although, you tasted real good."
Another giggle, Luis ignores Gio, walking off towards the bed.
"Fuck you," Gio says, following him, "last time you get to taste the best cut of beef you ever had!"
Though, as Gio follows that hairy ass, firming his shaft goads him on, thinking how nice it would be to part thse coconuts!
Then, all of a sudden, like having a revelation, Luis is cursing in Spanish, having looked upon Antonio tied to the bed. Before, in the dull light he could not see beyond the unshaved hair of Antonio's chest. Now, it was clear as daylight panning across it.
"What? What's the matter?" Gio looks down upon Antonio's x-ed out bod.
He was saying religious stuff, even though in Spanish, Gio making out bits and pieces and after gathering clothes, not even stopping to put them on, Luis left.
Antonio says, "what the fuck was that about?"
Gio laughs, after partially getting it, "I bet his rant had something to do with that tattoo on your chest?"
"My cross?" Antonio says, looking the best he could at his own chest. "I hadn't even shaved it, like you can't even make it out."
"Apparently that didn't stop Luis. Maybe he's a very religious man and thought your cross was tabu or something, like if he laid a finger on you, he could've been cast right into hell!"
"That's bunk."
"For you and me, yeah, but you saw how Luis acted, like he'd be damned in hell if he did anything to you?"
"To each their own," Antonio says. "Now what are we gonna do?"
"Well, I could always climb onto your chest, with my knees in your pits and make that hot mouth of yours work my cock over?"
"Aren't you afraid you'll be damned to hell for setting that ass on my cross?"
"Maybe that's why I had the Hershey squirts last week!"
Poor Gio. Last week, for four days he had to stay close to the bathroom, instead of out on the prowl for hot men.
"Yea, well it's good you didn't do diarrhea on my cross, you would've been struck dead on the spot, me along with you!"
Gio felt for his friend, but also himself, "I guess I should get on Grindr and see what's available?"
"Okay, but make sure you refer to me as 'Phil' and I have own florist shop in Totowa?"
"They don't have to know where it is, 'Phil'. Besides, if they go looking for a florist shop in Totowa and Totowa has no florist shop, you know?"
"Will you just get with it, Gio. Oh, and make sure whoever you get, he's not a religious nut. In fact, take a picture of my chest and post it?"
"Really? I've been dying to get a photo of you forever!"
"No face. Just my chest, down to my navel."
"That's it?" Gio says as he gets his iPhone and tabs the camera. "I thought you might like to have some musclehead to work you over?"
"Nah. In fact I kind of like the cub that was just here."
As he surfs, Gio says, "what about a hairy muscle guy?"
"At our age, we're lucky we get a pick of the litter."
Tied to the bed eagle-spread, normally it wouldn't be a time for laughter, Gio and Antonio shairing the joke with a round of laughter.
Gio is on Grindr, searching for 2 guys for the night... '1 guy into', he looks over to the bed and viewing Antonio drowsy, probably for lack of action, smiles and with a deep chuckle in his throat, erases '1 guy into', replacing it with, '1 nasty SOB top into BDSM'. Even after hitting <-enter, he's feeling the laugh associated with pranking a guy!
"There," Gio says, after tapping the enter key, "the hook's baited, so get your nap now, because it's gonna be a long night!"
"I'm not napping. I'm just closing my eyes for awhile."
Gio sat at the small desk, listening for his laptop to chime in with a perspective meetup. Passing the time he gazes over to Antonio, that beautiful bod, from the muscled legs, up under shaved balls, the meat hanging over them, lightly haired pubes, tiger trail, the stripe continuing up a defined sixpack, the tattooed cross, which began in the middle of poundcakes with two perky nips adorning each, slight fuzz, then the beard, neatly crafted along with a mustache, all complimenting his incredibly good looks. The only imperfection, which didn't bug him, was Antonio hadn't shaved his chest, which he usually did because he didn't have that cross tattooed on him for nothing.
Why such a handsome musclehead could ever submit to the kind of abuse, "hey, Antonio?"
"What?" Antonio responds without opening eyes, still bound, flaunting hairy pits.
"How, or why, how did you ever get into liking guys to beat on you?"
Antonio smiles, again still in nap mode, eyes closed, "evading the real question?"
"Okay, have it your way, how did you get into S&M?"
"And?"
Like he was impatient, Gio says, "and B&D?"
"Which spells?"
"You know what it means, just answer the question, before I have to come over there and pry it out of you?"
This was an eye opener for Antonio, disturbing his nap, using bound arms and muscle tolift his head off the pillow and address the issue, "ooh-yeah, come on over here and torture it outta me, baby!"
The first three or four times Gio and Antonio met, was getting their feet wet, or rather dicks. Ordinary stuff, kissing, leading to Gio standing there as Antonio licked beard, under the neck and as he parted the shirt, his saliva wet down the mat on Gio's chest. Following the stripe down his abs like it was a map, he quickly saturated the stripe, dipped his tongue in his navel and then the action stopped!
Gio made Antonio stop for a minute, to do it again.
Frankly, Antonio was stifled, to 'do what again'?
He learned from the first meetup, all of Gio's little quirks. Good thing Antonio could be a good oral slave, at least that's his own assessment of himself, and he wasn't only into grooming a hot, hairy chest, painting tongue up and down, back and forth. In fact, showing Gio how hot licks could relax, he roamed freely, pits, back to pecs, stripe down the middle. After lingering at Gio's navel, now that he knew one of his sweet spots, Antonio taught him some new tricks.
'Betcha you never had this done?'
Before Gio could fully gain consciousness from his light 'sleep', Antonio was biting around the edge of the hairy navel. It first garnered a surprise reaction of, 'oh shit!', but slowly put Gio back into his sexual slumber.
After Gio had succumbed to Antonio's ministrations, after being fully drunk-down, and after Gio hand-worked Antonio's shaft into full submission, they relaxed side by side, Gio finding out why Antonio was so bent on submitting to another man. It involved a few aspects, being abused as a teenager, which was psychologically complicated, but also, being a cop, in his line of work there were slim chances he arrested a guy who was innocent. Fortunately none of them went to full term, court and incarceration, but it left it's psychological impact on Antonio. But things don't happen just because they happen. For Antonio, a lot of things that's happened to him in life, became a vehicle for his 'hobby'. His 'hobby', that's what Antonio called chance encounters with a hot man, solely for the purpose of having himself subjected to barbaric practices.
Of all this, passing the time, Gio wondered, if Antonio wasn't into all this abusive stuff, could they have been more than fuck buddies?
Being cast out of his reminiscing, Antonio watches Gio swivel around in the desk chair, putting his feet up on the foot of the bed, and with one arm on the chair resting spot, the other he works down to his pubes. Accidentally one foot touches Antonio's foot.
"It's not doing anything for me," Antonio says of it, still with eyes closed.
"Oh really? What do I have to do, give you a falaka beating?"
Again, eyes opening, hands pulling his head off the pillow, Antonio reacts, "hm, I'm surprised you even know what that means, but hey, if it'll get your rocks off?"
"Yeah, right," Gio responds, "like, a cop who walks the beat, it would be something to watch you walking like you're stepping on hot coals!"
"Hot coals," Antonio whimsically thinks on it, "I think not, but doubled in half belt I might go for?"
Gio rolls his eyes, "go back to sleep!"
It's then Gio almost falls out of the chair when a chime sounds on his laptop, swiveling back to greet the alert, "I think we got a bite."
He heard the coils on the mattress react with Antonio trying to get out of bed, his restrains keeping him put, "I hope this one is mine. I hope, I hope, I hope!"
"Well now, this is different, 'S&M couple looking for same'!"
Impatiently, after that long, ten minute wait, Antonio says, "what're you waiting for? Get'em over here!"
"Hold your horses a minute."
Antonio is already in saliva mode, it building up in his mouth, as Gio types, 'looking for safe, experienced players'.
When Gio met Antonio, he hadn't a clue about bdsm, in ten or twenty meetups, has not only grown to trust each other, but value opinions. Everything he's learned, has been a result of his association with a guy with a broad spectrum of knowledge. He also has learned, even though Antonio is married, to a woman, what was once a blooming relationship, has changed dramatically. In the beginning of any meetup, Antonio used his marital status as a precaution, to make sure there weren't any marks left behind after they 'played'.
Gio turns to Antonio, "the top guy wants to know if marks are okay?"
"Sounds hot," Antonio replies and out of the buildup in his balls, "yes, yes, yes!"
Looking up, Gio remarks, "pathetic, Marco," but types, 'not sure. New to his'.
Then, out of the blue, "you called me Marco."
"Nah."
"Yeah, you did."
First time Gio met Antonio, he slipped, calling him by another trick's name, 'Marco', since if put side by side in a bed, they could resemble twins. Prolly the reason, Gio swore he would never fall in love, but sometimes principles can be compromised, which is what happened. The, quick as Marco came into his life, he moved to Europe.
"Okay, maybe I did," Gio moves on, but not without a smile for old time's sake!
"You better get typing?" Also knowing about the only man in Gio's life he's become more than attached by cock and ass, "and you can call me Marco if you want?"
Gio leaves it friendly, with a smile, as he addresses, "don't rush me, Marco!"
For the umpteenth time, Antonio whines, "why can't you be my master, Gio?"
As always, the answer, "because you're such a big baby," he goes back to typing.
"There," Gio taps the send button, "they'll be here ten minutes. You better get ready."
"Me get ready?"
"Yeah. He wants you showered and when he arrives, kneeling on the floor in slave position."
"Sounds hot. Um, like, can you release me from the bed?"
Their bods became tangled, with Gio releasing Antonio from his bindings. For a moment, Gio's balls scraping along Antonio's chest, he stops, but then with a cuff coming loose, it reminds him why he's straddling his friend.
It also wakes Gio up to the fact, "he also wants a list of what you want, expect, but also open to new ideas."
Antonio says, "sounds like the man of my dreams."
"Or could be your worst nightmare?"
It shows, the love for each other, brought out into the open, Antonio saying, "but you'll watch out for me?"
Like a tender moment and not an impending situation of pain and gain, Gio places hands on Antonio's shoulders, sweetly bringing their chests together, a kiss between the two Italians, "don't worry Marco, if things get rough, I'll have your back!"
"Oh shit!" Antonio jumps backwards, after feeling finger almost at his ass peephole.
It startled him, but with a reckless tongue, "hey, maybe you and him could try to get two in?"
"Your mouth or your ass?"
"Hm, let me think on it."
"Yeah, well you better think about getting in that shower!"
"What about you?"
"It's been suggested I 'not' shower, in fact to do a few jumping jacks and pushups, work up a sweat. I think we can both guess what kind of sweaty cleanup I'm going to get!"
"Um, like, how are you going to be paying attention to what's being done to me, when your mind is occupied on something else?"
Rolling his eyes, like he's thinking, Gio says, "probably by how loud you're screaming?"
"Yikes!"
"Eight minutes to shower?"
He never saw Antonio run so fast!
Then, he thought of himself, "work up a sweat, huh?"
He got with some jumping jacks, did 25, followed by falling to the chest, some pushups. Flipping over, Gio didn't like the idea of his back on the floor, the dirty aspect of it, so lay across the bed and did some kneeups, but because of the instability, kept falling to the left or right, so gave up. He then discovers, all that sweat buildup has gotten soaked into the sheets, "damn!"
Fourteen reps into another set of jumping jacks and there's a knock at the door. Not worrying about himself, Gio notices the obvious, Antonio not on his knees on the floor. Of a 'slave position', he doesn't know what that means, but the fact he's standing there alone.
Saying like there's aliens headed towards earth, "they're here, so you better get your ass out of the shower!"
While showering, Antonio had been thinking of the implications, of not adhering to the master's wishes. Probably why, as Gio is turning the doorknob, he waunders out, still wiping his bod off with a towel, "not quite ready, but oh well!"
"Your funeral," Gio remarks, swinging the door open.
There was bug screened door, which acts as a temporary barrier. For a few seconds it becomes a barrier between.
A voice, not indicative to how a figure of authority should or could act, more mild-mannered, says, "you'll have to first invite us in?"
In Gio's opinion, as he's seen on the net, having been guided by Antonio's expertise, the tall guy in front looks authentic enough, fully clothed in leather, cap on top of his head. Of the dude next to him, he's only partially visible in the frame of the door, which has him on pins and needles.
Antonio, probably more with his balls than his mind in the thinking, steps forward, says, "hey, come on in. Mi casa y su casa!"
The leather dude enters, followed by what appears to be a much younger man, dressed in a leather harness, which has Gio following it down to where a leather piece is snagging up the guy's hard shaft. He also carries a leather sack over his shoulder and a longer case with a handle, by his side.
The bearded faced guy who enters first, says, "which one of you is supposed to be on his knees?"
Gio says to Antonio, "don't say I didn't warn you, 'Marco'."
Little did the leatherman know, Antonio had his own scenario all planned out, "that would be me," he smiles.
Upon guys first meeting each other, only going on a brief sketch worded on the internet, meeting 'in the real' sense, can be a puzzling moment.
'Marco', Antonio was looking for a reaction to his defiance.
Gio felt sorry for this young guy, having to tote a backpack over one shoulder, plus a handled case in each hand, "here, let me help you with that."
"Thank you, sir, but I've got it."
Still with his gaze affixed upon the beautiful young guy, Gio couldn't help but block his way, "if you say so."
However, Gio wasn't making a move to allow him to slip by, "what's your name?"
"Boy."
Joking, Gio says, "is that your first or last name?"
Meanwhile, Antonio, 'Marco', had been standing there and like this was a game of whits, waited, checking out the leatherman as he shared the same.
"Did you not get my instructions?"
"Yep, all showered."
He stood there like a vision of authority, all leathery and with arms across the middle of his bod. From appearance, Antonio could tell he was in good shape, a little more older than he anticipated, though ages hadn't been mentioned.
"Hm," is all the leatherman said, slowly working his dark beard with one finger.
"So," Antonio says, working the towel around his waist, "do you like what you see?"
Apparently what was on the leatherman's mind, checking Antonio out, wondering what his game was, wondering if he could work out to be a player in his own game.
"Drop the towel, boy."
Antonio knew right away there was an interest, which prompts him to respond, "yes, sir," losing the towel.
Even though he expected his boy on his knees, with the ability to see cock and balls hanging down, he cuts Antonio some slack, taking balls onto the palm of the hand, "looks like these could be fun," the other hand takes cock into a cinch hold.
"Feels good."
"Does it now? How about this?"
Antonio knew this was a test, winces, "uh. Great."
"Have you ever had your balls played with?"
"Not really," Antonio replies.
"Did you make up that list I required?"
"I really didn't have a chance, being I wanted to be real clean for you."
"How long does it take to shower, unless," the leatherman waits.
A little flaky, Antonio says, "I almost came, I guess in anticipation of what you were going to be like, but stopped stroking and, well I suppose you can guess the rest?"
"I don't like guessing games. Are you looking to be added to my slaves, or are you out for periodically meeting up?"
Feeling so hot, gazing upon the leather appearance, Antonio wasn't thinking about it before, age, feeling the heat of the moment, didn't care, "I thought maybe now and then, but on a longterm basis?"
The leatherman responds, "I see," again taking up the thinking pose, arms folding across his middle, scratching the underside of his bearded chin.
"I can guarantee you a good time."
For now they weren't at a master-boy relationship, which had woven in and out the short conversing, which seemed to be pleasing the leatherman.
"No doubt," the leatherman already thought, being his new boy was extremely handsome, had a nice smile and the physique glorious!
"Oh, and that list," Antonio grabs a pen and motel stationery, "I can make it up for you right now."
"First things first," the leatherman says.
Placing a hand on the fuzzy crotch, Antonio is launched forward, one hand feeling up his hairy meat, the other to the back of his neck, forced to kiss!
After that little episode, Antonio is forced to his knees, breaking the seal between them, his leatherman saying, "not bad."
But then why, Antonio thought, did he deserve a slap to the cheek? He knew better than to ask.
That strike of a flat hand supplied information to hit top, "I see you've been through some training. Let's see how trained you are at getting my cock rock hard."
Antonio stuffs his mouth.
"No, no, no, that's all wrong," his leatherman says, yanking his soft shaft from between Antonio's lips.
"Huh?" Antonio looks up.
From just having his cock unsnapped, the leatherman unbuckles the rest of the portal to his pubes and begins stripping them off over his butt, "I see you're going to have to be taught a lesson."
Strange fear filled Antonio's mind. At first he pictured the fear of crouching over, a position he's been put in before, for the purpose of discipline, receiving a strap over his beautiful, muscular back. The other emotion made his balls tingle, at the pleasurable sensation of the sting.
"Stand up, um, what's your name again?"
Of all the names he's been called, Antonio picks, "Marco, sir."
The little throw rug on the floor has Marco tripping, his master catching him on the arm.
"Thank you, sir."
"No problem."
That's not the answer Marco sought, rather a reprimand for being clumsy, but accepted it.
"Whatever way you learned to pleasure a man through his cock and balls, this is how I like it done."
'What-the-fuck?' Antonio was thinking, taking all the fun out of the whole idea of meeting up, but before he could think on it, his leatherman was on his knees, a hand to his shaft.
Looking up, "are you paying attention, Marco?"
He smiled at hearing 'Marco' and not 'boy', "yes, Sir."
Even though he expected to be on his knees himself, mouth and tongue working the leatherman's cock, the wetness on his own was too much to bear, which obvious put Marco in the position of 'top' man.
"See how much you're liking it, boy?"
"I'll say," Marco replies, eyes closed and gazing towards the ceiling, the feeling and emotion strong.
Things begin to escalate, his leatherman's lips pursing, taking the whole of shaft in and using hips as ballast works him out to the tip, then fully engulfed.
Things move from standing to relaxing on one of the two beds. Gio and the 'boy' share the other.
Soon it goes beyond roleplay, reduced to two men having sex, hips used to project him to and fro, Marco forgetting his status and on the rebound pulls the leatherman's head into his pubes.
It doesn't take long before he's holding the leatherman's head in place, forcing his shaft down the man's throat as the dam breaks, force-feeding him until he's totally spent.
Luckily Marco's back was to the bed, not that he didn't check what his bod was caving onto, falling to the sheets, gasping at the enormous moment of ejaculation, "oh man, that was just so damn good!"
Towering above him, his leatherman says, "that was the plan!"
"Huh?" Antonio began to sober a little.
Before he could digest the whole gist of what was happen, a pair of cuffs were on his wrist and his bod was being pulled up towards the head of the bed.
The leatherman says, "that's why I love meeting at this motel. The wrought iron bars at the head make it easy to secure my victim!"
He let out an evil laugh, which got Antonio concerned, especially whereas Gio was no where in sight, "Gio?"
Called in a moderate tone of voice, upon hearing the cuffs click around the headboard railing, his leatherman says, "don't worry about your friend. My slave is taking good care of him," again that evil laugh.
Marco hears the shower running, which gives indication to where his friend is.
Next, he felt the mattress rising up at the bottom of the bed, a long leather strap placed underneath, which since not much action, other than cuffs attached to each of his ankles, a loop feed through a circle of metal at the end of each strap, rendering him in an upside down Y position, Antonio felt doomed, calling out, "hey Gio, get your ass in here!"
Little did he know, the running water was a sham. Gio was in another room at the motel, getting it on with the leatherman's slaveboy.
Confident his friend wasn't going to come busting through the door like a knight in shining armor, the leatherman rubs hands together, saying, "now, shall we start with a little ball torture?"
He was afraid to say he hadn't had any of that done yet, scared of what might be the case if he should volunteer the curiosity of having his balls played with, "not really."
Again, that evil demeanor coming through, whether play-acting or not, it sounded like the real McCoy, "I'll take that as a yes."
Marco gulped, but was soon alert at the visual, his leatherman holding up a leather apparatus with chains hanging down.
He joked, "this might hurt a little," then laughed.
Marco tried scissoring his legs closed for protection, but the restraints around his ankles did what they were supposed to do!
"Y'know," the leatherman stops for a moment, "these are some hefty balls. Probably needs one size bigger, but this is all I've got, so it might hurt a little trying to get the gag snapped shut."
He knew a long time ago, after getting into some stuff, there might be that one time he got into a fix he couldn't get out of and surely, next time he saw Gio, he would share in that 'hell to pay'!
"Hell or high water, here, we go!"
Bent on he was going to feel pain like he's never felt in all of his s&m experiences, Marco grabs both hands and couldn't deny he probably should praying, but not being the religious type made sure his tongue wasn't between his teeth.
"There, now that didn't feel too bad, did it?"
Nothing seemed to happen, except a little pinch, which had Marco volunteering, "no. Not at all."
"Good. Next?"
He could've kicked himself in the ass, having revealed that info.
"Y'know," the leatherman's hand slowly planed up, over Antonio's lower abs, ending with ascending his tall shaft, "you're reacting well to ball torture. Think maybe we should up the ante."
One thing that baffled Antonio, why wasn't he opening his mouth, bitching and moaning over his treatment?
"Aha! Just what I was looking for!"
He sees his leatherman, after rifling through one of the leather cases his slave toted inside, a ball of twine, which is stretched out to a certain length.
"What's that for?"
"You'll see," he goes to one side of the bed, stops and says, "that'll be 25 lashes for your first offense?"
Not understanding why, Marco says sarcastically, "what's a little string gonna do?"
"This is last time I'm warning you, boy. I only want to hear two phrases out of that wise mouth of yours, either 'sir' or 'yes, sir' and if it's any other words or wording, unless I give you permission, I tack on 25 more lashes. Got that boy?"
What Antonio didn't realize, he wasn't being given any time to think on it.
"Seventy-five lashes? A hundred?"
"Okay, okay, yes sir, I get it!"
Loving this 'kid', he loved everything about him, a personality more of a butch man, muscled, hot face, bod, ample cock and balls to play with and above all, the defiance, which made his balls jump at the thought of how that flogger is going feel delivering it to the boy's back, "good and for your last act of insolence, 50 more lashes."
"But you said 25 last time. That's not fair!"
"Who said this was going to be fair? Another 50 lashes!"
'Oh shit,' Marco thought, as the face of Gio slowly crept into his head, wishing he were here to watch out for him. Another fearful aspect filled his mind, the three hundred lashes of punishment. He better watch his mouth!
"Now, where was I? Oh. The string."
What could Marco do, but to lay there in his bondage and watch as if he were watching the ennactment of a crime drama. He prepared for the worst, pursing lips, making sure his tongue wasn't in danger of getting in the way of his teeth, if he should happen to get overwhelmed by the pain.
By far he couldn't say he was bored, watching his leatherman work the end of the string over his right big toe, stretch it all the way to his other foot, leave a little slack, then snap it by brute force between two hands.
It did make Marco think, if the string is for this, then what instrument of torture is going to be used for punishment, "uh, I have a question?"
His master doesn't register, except for, "three hundred and fifty lashes, what is it?"
He thought it best, since talking was against him, "never mind."
"Four hundred lashes."
Going about his business, the leatherman ignored his willing victim.
"Almost there," he tests the taut pulling between feet, "perfect!"
He almost slipped, to ask what this was all about, but for certain, Marco knew he was about to experience some pain to his balls and not the kind when his shaft erupted fifteen minutes ago!
"Just a little knot here should do it," the leatherman ties the end of the string he just snapped off to the middle of the stretched one tied to Antonio's big toes.
Then, after picking up the end of the ball gag, which was metallic, with 3 long chains extending from the cinched leather gag around the balls, he feeds it through a piece of circular metal.
"Now, this is where it starts to get sweet."
Marco was ready to say, 'for you', but for himself, he was already up to getting his back filleted, watches without verbal opinion.
Pulling on the string, fed through the metal circle of the ball gag, the leatherman muses, "now, you'll tell me when it's too tight?"
Marco keeps silent, until he feels a tug on his balls, but instead of crying out in immense pain, he breathes in, making a whistling, sighing sound, uttering a slight, "oh," speaking freely, "I thought it was going to be worse than that."
"Beautiful!"
He had closed his eyes and upon opening is surprised to find that even so his balls had a little stretch to them, his cock is rigid as a cucumber!
"I knew you'd like my handiwork. Oh, and that's four hundred lashes?"
"No," Marco, still not used to the master-slave game, says, "you're wrong. Before it was four hundred. Now it's four-fifty."
Smiling, honestly, the leatherman thought Marco was being so cute, "five hundred. Yep, you're screwed!"
He was laughing, like it was a joke. Marco couldn't help it either, that laughter infectious, which had him smiling to say the least!
"So, is there more?"
The leatherman had to admit, despite the audacity of this 'slave', he was having a good time, so allowed the discipline to slip.
"How about we knock off some of those lashes?"
Marco was feeling different and it wasn't only the fact his balls were tightly stretched, "that would be awesome. But I haven't had more than fifty."
Suddenly, what was to start out as a strict code of what he's followed for years, began to wear out thin, breakdown, the leatherman changing the way he does things, "I got a better plan."
For an 'older guy', Marco was thinking how sweet he was and not the badassed master that had come through the door, "I'm sure, whatever you do, I'll love it."
The leatherman smiles, saying, "be careful what you wish for, Marco!"
"You mean, 'boy'?"
Sure he was right, the way it's always been, even when he's wrong, the leatherman says, "that's what I said."
"Nope. You didn't, but that's okay."
It's exactly what the leatherman was thinking, allowing Marco to slide, right through additional increments of punishment.
Feeling the way he did, "why don't we get rid of this," he begins to untwine Marco's toes and how it's attached to the ball gag, "not really necessary for what I have in mind."
Arms still stretched out, Marco lies there and with no other thing to pay attention to but his leatherman, snipping string, feeling things unwind, "you got a real name?"
He stops snipping with the scissors, thinking that once a person 'goes there', how difficult it is to come back. However, the feeling to go there is too strong, "by the way, my name is Geronimo."
"Like the chief?"
"Mexican, Native American mix."
Making easy work of releasing Marco's of his bondage, "oh, you don't know how good that feels," said, feeling the stretch of his balls relax.
"Italian," Marco shares. "And oh, I'm called Marco, but my real name is Antonio."
"I like to be called Jeremy. What's your preference?"
"My friend Gio likes calling me Marco, because it's the guy he fell in love with, but lost and I kind of remind him of Marco. I tend to like the name, because it kind assimilates the same relationship."
He was taking a big step here, one in which he's never done in his life, falling in love, especially when it's been a chance meetup, laced with his hobby of controlling guys for the pleasure of release, "I think I'd like the chance of getting to know you, Marco?"
Sure, love and a person to care for and be cared for, they were important to Marco, but also stuck in his mind, "have you ever thought of being in a with a guy who likes to be a bottom in an s&m type of relationship?"
Having already made up his mind, Jeremy starts climbing the bed towards Marco's upper shoulders, "I'd love to explore it with you, Marco?"
He hadn't even released the cop's wrists, Jeremy working over Marco's lips.
"Can I ask, something personal?"
"Okay."
"Your age, not which I thing is a deal breaker. Just curious?"
"Fifty-one, and you?"
"Forty-two, too old?"
"Nope. Just right."
As Jeremy moves in for another kiss, the door busts open, startling both of the inhabitants.
"Tomer, what are you doing here?"
Of the young man, half-naked dude in boxer shorts and flip flops, Jeremy asks, "and you are?"
"Wow, you're hot. Are you the one who did this to Antonio?"
"Marco, and yes, I'm the one who cuffed him to the bed."
Not what was on Tomer's mind exactly, "really? Okay. Hey, you think you might want to do something with me, after you're done with Antonio?"
"Marco?" Jeremy says, not oblivious to Tomer's nice bod.
It's then Marco gets the idea, quick as Jeremy has fallen for him, he's about to fall out of love, protects his interest, "what happened to the guy you were with, Tomer?"
"He wasn't what he said he was."
Cuffed eagle to the top of the bed, Marco only had one view of the situation, "I'm sorry to hear that Tomer, but as you can see we're a little busy here?"
Jeremy stood and listened, trying to gain some insight into what brought the two men to the motel.
"Where's Gio?"
Being he could relate, Jeremy says, "with my boy."
"You're boy?" Tomer gets the connection, "then you're a master?"
"I meet up with men for that purpose in mind," Jeremy says, still studying Tomer's features.
"Oh good. Then, after you're done with Antonio, you want to play with me?"
Jeremy approaches Tomer, places a hand on his shoulder, says, "look, you seem like a sweet guy, but it's going to be a long, long time before I'm 'done' with Marco, so it could be a long, long wait!"
Marco had mixed reaction. He knew what Tomer meant to Gio, friends for forever, but also because he's got to know him, knows of his past failures, reason enough to feel sorry for him, "maybe Jeremy could play with you another time?"
Yearning to get things going with Marco, Jeremy says, "yeah, I'm sure I can find some time in my schedule."
"That's okay," Tomer says, pouting as he reaches for the door handle to let himself out, "I know the drill."
He leaves, closing the door behind him.
"Oh man, why do I feel like such a jerk?"
"I can tell."
They haven't known each other long, which has Marco saying, "how?"
"Your erection is all flabby?"
"Oh," Marco tries looking down his bod to pubes, "right. How about you?"
"I'm still up there, like semi-erect."
"No, not what I meant, but that's good to know. I meant, Tomer."
"Yeah, I do feel bad. Like, for himself, it seems like he things of himself as a failure for relationships, which I'm only guessing, based on how I perceive things."
"What are you, a shrink?"
"Psychiatrist, as opposed to witch doctor."
It seems a stalemate, both losing their sexual energy rather quickly.
"Uh, do you think I should go get him?"
Marco, still in bondage, says, "I don't know. Can you handle two slaves at once?"
As he goes to the door, "remind me sometime to tell you the story of spring break meets psychiatry conference at a Florida hotel!"
Marco couldn't go anywhere, still in his bindings, but Jeremy gave him something to think on, which with a good imagination had his shaft start to rebuild!
Out in the parking lot, not ashamed of being in his leather getup, minus the flap which kept the good in, Jeremy approaches a soul, head bowed, sitting on a garbage bin.
"Hey, you want to come back inside?"
Tomer was kind of depressed, so much, he spoke what he was hoping for to happen to him tonight, pouted, "not unless you're going to torture me."
"Are you feeling depressed?"
In a low tone, "I dunno."
For Jeremy, probably Tomer was thinking maybe, like borderline he didn't know, but in his profession, he knew, when a guy isn't getting what he wants and is so many times disappointed, it can make a person depressed.
"Why don't you come inside and we can talk about it?"
"Is that a yes, you're going to torture me?"
"I'm not saying yes or no, let's talk about it and maybe it can lead to something."
Looking down from his perch of sitting on the dumpster, a glimpse of light cast over the leather chaps, he could see Jeremy's shaft and balls hanging out, which gave him the idea, "were you ready to fuck Antonio?"
Regardless of the namesake, "we hadn't gotten to that point. Immaterial at the moment, I'm more interested in finding out about you," he held a hand out.
"Okay," Tomer says, surrendering, but jumps off without taking the hand assist.
However, he did allow the shrink to place an arm around the shoulders, leading him back across the parking lot and into the motel room.
Walking in, Marco says, "oh good. You're back."
Looking towards the bed, both guys see Marco, without a free hand, willing his shaft into tallness, "oh, and what thoughts have you on your mind?"
Tomer says, "I'd probably be hard too if I knew some guy was going to come and torture me."
It's then Marco, who had wanted it as much probably, says, "why don't you do some stuff with Tomer. I can wait, Jeremy."
After saying it, Marco was sorry for the quick judgement, thinking how he should be whipped for giving away the opportunity to another man!
Before he was a psychiatrist, Jeremy had been in these guys' shoes, even though from the other point of view, giving men what they lusted for, needed, almost like a dose of medicine. In his office or the hospital he worked on occasion, he used a by the book type of rehabilitation, presecribing medicine. It's also how he got into helping men he's met at seedy motels, or when he was away at a conference, finding those who were depressed out of a single need, to be dominated, with a myriad of ways to compensate in lieu of medicine. Out of kindess, where he could, he would record a cell number and check up on those men he's met outside the office. Kept busy during the day, Jeremy was also busy at night, meeting up with clients off the books. He couldn't deny it didn't also feed his own sexual desires.
Surprised Marco had offered in the way he did, Jeremy had seconds to respond, which had him change like day and night, "strip the shirt," he instantly cast himself into a dominant mood.
Perking up like a hundred percent, Tomer says, "cool," tearing his tee off overhead.
Even though he had no intentions of doing so, Jeremy says, "you're going to share the five hundred lashes due this slave on the bed."
With such a lust, a taste for any sadistic act performed on himself, Tomer says, "is that all you're going to do to me?"
"I'm not doing anything until you're naked?" he gives Marco a wink.
"Um, sir?" Marco says.
"What, slave?" they fall into an ad lib script.
"I think there's more ankle and wrist cuffs in Gio's toybox?"
Tomer doesn't wait, knowing and after totally in the buff, goes over to the metal box, "here. These are the ones Gio uses on me."
Having met Gio for a minute, before he left with his slave, Jeremy gets a few palpitations from his balls, thinking how hot it would be to have the tall, muscular Italian in bondage, submitting to his wildest fantasies.
He's woken out of his short fantasy by Tomer, placing the restraints in his hands, "here you go. Where do you want me?"
Out to make Tomer's 'session' memorable, but without scars, Jeremy says, "first, I'd like to find out how good a cocksucker you are."
"Oh, I'm a real good cocksucker. I've sucked Gio's big fat cock for years and he raves about it."
Getting the wrong impression of Gio, Jeremy says, "I bet he's a hard fucker too?"
Instead of Tomer, Marco jumps the gun, "oh yeah, he really knows how to plow the fields!"
Jeremy reprimands Marco, "I wasn't talking to you, boy!"
Tomer, seeing something wrong with Jeremy's actions, says, "that's all he gets for being bad?"
In psychology sessions, sometimes something like this could lead to a revelation about a patient, "what course of action would you suggest, Tomer?"
As predicted, from his own experience, Tomer says, "whenever I stepped out of line, my father, he would take off his belt and you can probably guess the rest?"
"Come, sit," Jeremy coaxes Tomer over to an easy chair, sits.
Looking around the motel room, Tomer says, "there's only one chair."
Even thought not his usual practice, this not his office, Jeremy feels he can bend the rules, "well then, here," he slaps a thigh, "come sit here."
It's something he hasn't done since a holiday visit to Macy's, "reminds me of the time our family visited the city," Tomer says, walking over to where Jeremy sits.
"Oh? How would that go?"
It seemed awkward, but seeing Jeremy's junk sitting between the 'V' of his legs, bulging as a result of the codpiece from his leather chaps missing, Tomer got a quirky type of erotic vibe, which had him joking, "should I sit in the middle?"
Jeremy again taps a thigh, "you'd like that?"
Tomer signaled he did, but also that he was joking.
"Now, about that family visit to the city?"
"Not much to tell, other than everywhere you go during the holidays, there's lots of Christmas lights, which my father had a problem with, seeing only a small Menorah in a shop window. Anyhow, at fourteen, once we were inside Macy's, I was old enough to walk around the store on my own. I saw a line of kids waiting to see Santa and since I had never experienced this, got on line."
"Then on his lap?" Jeremy laughs.
"Yeah, but then that's where things started to go wrong. Right in front of the hundreds of people, my father marches up to the Santa Claus house, grabs me by the arm and humiliates me, ranting about being Jewish and that we don't follow such fantasies. When he got me in private, he said 'wait till I get you home'. Trust me, when he got me home, I got it real good!"
"Which means?"
"I wasn't taken down to the basement much, because the first time I felt the impact of my father's belt across my back, was enough to tote the line. I swear, because of that, I tried like heck to be a good Jewish boy."
"So, you were traumatized by your father?"
"And others, like bullies in the neighborhood who didn't either like Jewish boys, or just wanted to be mean."
Jeremy was ready to pop another question, when they heard a 'snore' from the bed.
"You going to wake Marco up?"
"Nah. I got a special way of waking up a guy, but what I want to know, is more about you?"
Even though it had an erotic touch to it, sitting on Jeremy's leg, it wasn't too comfortable, "okay, but can we get a little more comfortable," he stands.
Giving hint, Tomer walks over to the other bed in the room.
Not the way he carried on with business, but this wasn't a professional environment of business, which after a brief thought, pushed on the arms of the chair, ousting himself, "why not."
"Go ahead," Jeremy ushers Tomer into the bed.
"Okay if I get naked first?"
Jeremy surely didn't mind that, "need some help?"
"No, but I'd like to help you get out of your leather suit?"
Hearing another snort from the bed next to theirs, calls attention to Marco's deep inhaling and exhaling, which causes Jeremy and Tomer to look at each other and laugh.
Tomer gets naked.
Jeremy hesitates, inviting the twenty-something year old, "care to help me undress?"
"Sure," Tomer agrees, "if you need the help?"
"A trained slaveboy will be taught how to undress his master, but I'll leave it up to you how much of myself you want to touch."
It wasn't tough to get the harness off, but when Tomer, who is kneeling on the bed and facing Jeremy, tries to unbutton the chaps, "I think it's stuck."
"Yeah," Jeremy gives it a go, "happens every time, since one of my slaveboys dared to throw it in the washer, but these chaps are old and I like wearing them, so tolerate it getting stuck."
Assuming things, Tomer says, "what was his punishment?"
"Punishment?" Jeremy stares Tomer in the face, "none. I forgave him."
"Really? That's what never happened to me. My father, any little thing I did wrong, I was punished for."
"Oh, there it goes," Jeremy says, but then right to back to Tomer, "that's something I'd like to hear about, and those bullies you were talking about."
With Jeremy slipping out of the chaps, it gave Tomer a new perspective on the full extent of him from head to toes, "you look really good."
"You mean, as a man of fifity-two, or meaning like a popsicle?"
Jumping to the opportunity, Tomer says, "after I tell you about the bullies, can you lay there and let me lick you all over?"
Jeremy thought, 'at least he's direct', "let's see how it goes."
"Unless you don't find me attractive enough to do that?"
"I think you're gorgeous."
"Me too. I mean, what I think you look like."
Jeremy says, "it's the impression I got."
And before they got down to psych business, Jeremy places a hand behind Tomer's neck, giving him a sweet kiss.
Laughter followed, like that of a joke, Tomer saying, "I haven't been kissed much, but that was pretty good."
Even though he giggled, thinking Tomer was cracking a joke, he views facial expression, which in all sincerity, it seemed his kiss was credibly 'pretty good'!
"You're not so bad yourself!"
Thinking of overall talent, Tomer says, "thanks, but if you order me to do it, I can show you how really good I am at delivering oral?"
It had been a long day at the office and thinking of the proposal, "okay," in relaxed manner, "I order you to work your tongue alll over my chest, stomach and wherever else you want to go."
"Didn't sound authentic."
Jeremy knew he was being far too lenient, yet to discover how soft or rough he could get with Tomer, yet from working with, or working over guys since in college, he had the expertise to lend a hand, "okay slaveboy," he changes ton of voice, "I want you on your stomach, feeling the tip of my cock poking you in the navel, while you saturate my pec hair with your tongue."
It was all Jeremy could do to contain himself, after dictating the order, Tomer responding, "now that's what I'm talkin' about!"
Worked for Tomer, immediately springing into action, getting up on all fours, dick and balls hanging down as he lifts a leg to straddle Jeremy's bod.
Normally, Jeremy would have to grant a boy permission to touch his semi-hard shaft, but just lay back, hands behind the head, allowing Tomer to handle the situation.
"This is not going to work, I don't think?"
Using hands to cock his head, chin pressed to chest, Jeremy says, "why, what's wrong?"
Their face were there, in range for another lip-lock, but Jeremy knew Tomer wasn't in a romantic mood.
"You're cock, it's nice and hard, but I can't get my navel lined up with the tip."
Not a game winner, Jeremy says, "not a problem. Going oral on my chest would be just fine."
"Oh. Okay."
Sensing negative vibes, Jeremy says, "okay, but what, Tomer?"
"I'm supposed to be your slave."
"Oh, is that all?"
Jeremy wasn't used to being accused of being wrong, but Tomer was being so cute.
"You called me Tomer. Before you called me your slaveboy."
"Did I?" Then, thinking inside the discipline box, "are you questioning my authority, slaveboy?"
"Oh, no, no, no, no, no Sir Jeremy."
Well, isn't wasn't exactly what Jeremy planned, his other slaveboys or wanna be boys, calling him, "let's forget that for now and get with your tongue on my chest?"
"You're not supposed to be asking me, you're supposed to be telling me!"
Jeremy didn't know how long his shaft could hold up to this humiliation, feeling like the one being disciplined and not the other way around, "get your tongue on my hairy chest boy, and make sure you wet it all down, or else there'll be hell to pay!"
He couldn't win, Tomer saying, in a lustful manner, "cool, what are you going to do to me if I do a crappy job?"
In his long history of meetups, with all sorts of men, all sizes, shapes, hairy, smooth, muscular, chubby, never has Jeremy ran into a man with so many questions. Yet, regardless of whether he was charging a couple of Franklins, or not a penny, "oh, I'm going to show you what you're get, if you don't please me, slaveboy!"
Tomer had no choice but to follow the master's whim, a wave of a hand, as much to say, move out of the way. Obliging, he follows Jeremy's every move, "what are you going to do?"
In the long box his official slaveboy toted into the room, Jeremy unzips the long parcel, "I thought you wanted a demonstration of my wrath?"
Seeing the whipping tool Jeremy pulls from the case, a long strap of leather, black in color, Tomer had to admit maybe he went to far, "what are you going to do with that?"
Like show and tell, Jeremy waves it around, lecturing, "my favorite place is across the back, but I could tan your hide, or I felt in a really mean mood, have you spread your legs and whip your balls till they're black and blue."
"Seriously? A guy can take that, having his balls beaten?"
Throwing the fear into Tomer, which Jeremy could sense, the 'backdown', which he hasn't come across in other encounters, "not for the novice or even guys who have been my slaveboys for years."
Convincing, Tomer says, "okay, just give it to me on the back."
He could've faulted Tomer again, for leaving the decision up to his own will, but this wasn't any ole meetup. Jeremy was enjoying himself!
"The back it is. Bury your face in the pillow and hold onto it with both hands."
"I'll get smothered."
"It's not meant to asphyxiate you, only to muffle your loud screams."
"Loud screams," Tomer hugs the pillow, yet pushes his chest off the bed, "it's gonna hurt that much?"
Standing there, totally naked, if Marco was awake, he could drool over Jeremy's big shaft hanging down, which right now Tomer was taking into consideration, and before Jeremy could say a word, "but I can see you are going to like whipping me, so go ahead. Whatever you want is okay with me."
It was kind of the wrong time for Gio to return to the room, not which he minded seeing Jeremy hard as two rocks and a tree trunk, but with the whip in hand, "what the fuck?"
It's amazing Jeremy didn't trip, stumble and fall, responding to Gio's swift approach, pushing till his chest was pinning his target's back to the wall.
To match the situation, Marco wakens out of slumber, "what the fuck is going on, Gio?"
"Go back to sleep, Marco," Tomer says, having sprung out of bed in effort to come to Jeremy's rescue."
Gio's full force frontal assault had Jeremy's chest, stomach and hardware pinned with back to the wall. Even though his original worry was that of Tomer, he feels a disturbance in his loins, but then prior concern resurfacing, "you were supposed to be working over Marco?"
Not worried he could 'take' Gio down, Jeremy takes it as deep concern, not unlike he's had for a friend. To show he wasn't in a warlike mood, smiles, saying, "I understand that."
It was kind of dick-provoking, Tomer lying there and seeing Gio block Jeremy's bod up to the wall, but in all reality, comes to defend, "Jeremy wasn't doing anything I didn't want him to do, besides."
Right in Jeremy's face, the big and bold Gio says, "besides, what?"
Again Tomer steps in, "Jeremy's a 'real' psychiatrist and was helping me get analyzed."
Feeling the big bump butting him in his own junk, Gio says, "I find that credible."
Not which Jeremy was worried, with this big six foot galut pinning him to the wall, actually pleasure where there could have been danger, "not what you're thinking, Gio. In fact," basing things on not only exchanged words but dueling swords, "I'm liking the defensive action you're taking with your friend."
"Is that so," Gio says, backing up, eyes traveling down Jeremy's naked bod, till he hurts pay dirt.
In separating bods, whereas he was fully dressed, he views the hard shaft, with a strand of goo in a fishing-line circumference, dripping down.
Jeremy smiles, saying, "oops, sorry about your pants."
Looking down, now that his attention is on himself and not how big Jeremy grew, "what the fuck?"
Gio's pants has acted like a towel to absorb what came before, when Jeremy really started to feel the pressure of bod to bod.
While the two were in question of each other, Tomer had waundered to the screen door, where Jeremy's 'slaveboy' had been standing. First thing that struck him, when he poked his head out the door, "aren't you cold, standing out there naked?"
"Um?" he showed a questionable answer.
"You can come inside?"
Tomer held the door with invitation.
"Technically, Gio is in charge of me, so only he has the power to invite me inside."
"Weird," Tomer thought it. It didn't go without thinking, naked himself, looking upon the slaveboy, "hey Gio," he calls inside.
"Can't you see I'm busy?"
Tomer says, "the slaveboy says only you can invite him inside!"
Instead of turning around to Tomer, Gio speaks to the slaveboy's master, "like, what's that about?"
"I turned him over to you, so you're top man now."
Not wanting to give up on the face off of master to master, Gio says, "he's your responsibility now, Tomer."
"Cool," Tomer smiles, "I'm your master now!"
He laughs, which the slaveboy breaks code and smiles back, also speaking when not spoken to, thanks Tomer for holding the door open for him.
"Hey, are you only a bottom, or do you like to do top stuff to guys?"
Instead of a direct answer, "you can whip me if I get out of line with this, but it seems to me you don't know much about how it all goes?"
"Whip you? Heck, I thought maybe you could do the same for me?"
There it was, out on the table, both standing there, thinking, Tomer in his proposal, the slaveboy wondering how to handle the situation.
Looking over to Gio or Jeremy for guidance, Tomer reacts to them kissing each other, "well, we're not going to get any answers from them."
"Doesn't matter."
"No?" Tomer questions the slaveboy. "Why not?"
"You're the master now. Whatever you want to happen is your call?"
Next thing they know, the two have stopped kissing. Apparently, Gio had asked Jeremy what, if anything has been done about Marco. When it's found he snored through the whole time Jeremy has given Tomer his attention and with trick's eyes still closed, a harsh slap to the stomach brings Marco back to reality!
"Oh shit," it brings the restrained cop back from dreamworld.
Jeremy, who turns hands inside out, cracking a couple of knuckles, "if he were my boy I would've aimed lower, using a strap and not my hand!"
"You're brutal!"
Gio laughs along with Jeremy.
Tomer hardly heard, until the laughter broke him off of conversing with 'his' slaveboy, which in doing so, learns his name is Peter Wilson.
"Yeah, I was down and out on my luck, after hitching cross country from Wyoming."
As they lay side by side, facing each other, Tomer takes form of a friendly interrogator, "how did you wind up with Jeremy?"
"I've taken chances, like everyone isn't as friendly as him. Even though on my guard, by the time we got to his driveway, the way he put life into perspective, I was crying on his shoulder."
That short time Tomer spent with Jeremy, he could relate, "I guess you know he's a shrink?"
"That's one of the first things I found out about him, but after initially counselling me, he had a colleague take on that chore, of straightening me out."
"Oh," Tomer is surprised, "I thought Jeremy would take you on himself?"
"No. I mean, he would if we didn't develop the kind of friendship we have."
"I'm lost."
Peter explains, "if we want to carry on the charade of being master and slave, we have to keep things separate. Plus, it's not that the shrink I go to, Eduard is not good for me. He has known Jeremy since they were in college together, which is where they discovered each other into bdsm."
Sketchy on the subject, "so, you're a slaveboy to Eduard too?"
"No, and that's how it all works. Well, he's not a master to me, but he has other boys he plays with. It's only on occasion Jeremy and Eduard get together and combine litters."
"Dogs?"
"Not me, but some of Eduard's boys like to pretend they are dogs."
By this time, after comparing notes, Tomer has taken to been encouraged to manhandle Peter, rubbing knuckles up and down the thick stripe from midchest to navel and back.
Peter, who is not immune to it, says, "you do more than that to me, if you want?"
Having some inspiration coming on, Tomer suggests, "or you could do it to me?"
"I'd love to, Tomer, I mean, 'sir'."
"Let's forget about that and go on a first name basis?"
It's only when they reach this point, both discover the room has emptied out, and both sliding on the bed, getting into a more closer relationship, Peter says, "I wonder where Jeremy's gone?"
"Probably back to the room you were in?"
"Maybe," Peter replies as he straddles Tomer, flatback on the bed.
"Mm, you look so good, I don't know where to start?"
They weren't the same height and as the pair has already found out, Peter six years younger than Tomer, at thirty-two and far as bod's, their appearances not much different, except Peter having a full chest of hair, Tomer midchest fuzziness and around the nips, but both having a nice stripe down the abs.
"You can punish me if I don't give that delicious-looking treasure a good wetting down!"
He did giggle, something Peter would not do if in 'slave' mode.
Already the two were thinking more as equals, Tomer joking, "your punishment would be me making you to pinch my nipples!"
He laughs, Peter saying, "I'll do you if you do me?"
"Oh really?"
Already a suggestion, too good to pass up the offer, Tomer reaches up, digits wading through the thatch on Peter's chest, seeking out the two nubs.
From Peter's overhead view, it wasn't tough finding the two pec spots, which has Tomer gasping from the squeeze.
Even though it didn't tickle, he was light in the humor, delivering, "I don't get mad, I get even!"
"Ohhhh-shit-Tomer!"
Peter had 'really' felt the pain, not being as accustomed to having his nips mashed as much as Tomer.
Drawing back, Tomer loosens his grip, delivering an authentic, "I'm sorry. Did I squeeze too hard?"
Having felt the pain, perhaps his brain was discovering one thing, his privates another, Peter showing glistening fingertips, "yeah, but it felt real good."
Taking Peter's hand, Tomer draws the fingers to his mouth, feeding them in, licking them off as if honey, "hm, I think you're bluffing me."
Reaching down between legs, where their shafts are welded together, Peter shows astonishment on his face.
"What?" Tomer questions.
"That wasn't all me!"
With a laugh, the type of humor Tomer has felt with a guy he slowly was liking to become a friendship, says like joking, "hey, y'know what, Pete?"
"What?"
"We taste pretty awesome!"
It made Pete over and hands braced by Tomer's pecs, gives him a kiss on the lips.
Popping up, "that we do!"
Tomer wasn't sure what happened after that, only that Peter was turning around on the bed and without instruction, his cock was being sucked in by Peter.
Peter's cock knocking at his mouth. Soon they were both engaged in a 69, sucking up sweet nectar to their heart's content!
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% Copyright 2023 T. Chase McPhee
Developing segments of 'SoLO ChRiStMaS | HaNNuKkaH' 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.