Date: Mon, 16 Oct 2006 15:32:03 -0700 (PDT)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: STRIPEs 8

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
sexual scenes, involving male-to-male relationships
offends you, then you ought not read this story, by
law. Check with your local laws, regarding such.
Sexual safety matters. This is fiction. In the real
world, use protection, during sexual encounters.

STRIPEs 8

      wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"About time you fuckin' got......."

My heart almost sank to the ground. Trailing Rob, Mr.
Martin stood behind him.

"Gary?"

"Hi Mark."

Smiling, Rob held the key out, as if up for grabs.
Pushing past me, Mark turned, expecting Rob to unlock
it.

"Hmm... it's gonna cost ya!"

My mind, on the guy behind Rob, didn't pick up on
Mark's twitching cock.

"Anything. My `rents are going to be home any minute."

"Hmmm...."

"Rob, just do it! We can talk about it later!"

As Rob slowly keyed the handcuffs, secured behind
Mark's back, his other hand grazed the hard shaft,
then traversed up his body, finding the chain hanging
down, midchest.

"Oooooooooooooh!" Mark groaned, feeling his nips
getting stretched.

Rob's hand returned to his hard teen shaft.

"Hee hee heeee... just as I thought!"

As the one cuff loosened, came off, Mark turns around.
Rob fed him the bead of cum that came out of his hard
teen shaft. By this time, Mark and Rob stood on the
inside of the screen door, as Gary and I stood
outdoors.

"So, you and Rob have been getting it on?" I asked
Gary.

"Yeah. He's a hot guy."

I don't know why I said it, but it came out, "Hotter
than me?"

"Look, Sean. Let's not pretend. Rob can give me what
I... need, okay?"

Then the words returned, the ones Mark clued me into
about a year ago.

"But he doesn't love you."

Gary didn't say anything. He stared at me, giving me a
little smile.

Totally on a different wavelength he replied, "Rob is
going off to college. I'll be returning to San
Franciso."

"What's in San Franciso? I was counting on having you
for a teacher this year. We both were."

"I know, but I think that it's better that things
worked out this way. For myself and the school board."

It then dawned on me what the rumors had been.

"I didn't say anything to anybody. Neither did Mark. I
swear it, Mr... I mean, Gary."

"I believe you, Sean. In fact, if you were even a few
years older, well... things might have been
different."

Knowing what Gary talked about, I wanted to take him
in my arms right then and there, not caring what the
neighborhood thought. But then again, he was in enough
deep shit. I did try one last plea.

"Gary?"

"Yes, Sean?"

"Even if not now. A couple of years or so, when I'm
gown up, older, can we like... get together?"

Smiling, Gary replied, "I'd like that, Sean."

As if a gentlemen's agreement, he took my right hand
and shook it, saying, "Good luck."

I longed for it to be more than `good luck'. Watching
him go back to Rob's jeep, I kidded myself, if I
thought we could be more than just friends.  There
again, as Mark always said, I was letting that deep
churning in my balls, rule. After Rob left, we hustled
back upstairs.

"You put everything back in the bag. I'll get the
buttplug."

Running around, Mark set the bag on the bed,
indiscriminately chucking everything back in. He knelt
down and searched under the bed skirt, came up with a
leather cuff.

"Why didn't we use those?"

"Your hands were greasy. Remember?"

I was looking straight at his chest and didn't even
notice. Plus the fact that the downstairs door
slammed. Up the stairs, we could hear Junior's voice.
That's when I noticed them.

"The clamps!"

"Oh shit! I didn't even feel them!"

"Then why do you... never mind," I said.

"What do I do?"

"Take them off, stoopid!"

"I can't! Rob won't let me!"

"Rob won't..... never mind. I don't want to know.
Hid'em!"

"Hide them?"

Tossing Mark a sweatshirt, Mark quickly slipped it
over his head, hiding the clamps attached to his pecs.
It worked. Junior was so hepped up from open school
night, that he didn't pick up on the metal apparatus.
Probably his folks, too tired, cared to notice
anything unusual.

"Whew! That was a close call!"

"I'll say," I said. But alluded to, "Now what's this
with Rob and your clamps not coming off your nips?"

He smiled.

"Out with it Mark."

"Well, you heard what he said at the door?"

"It's going to cost you? What's the deal?"

"Well.." he gulped. "Rob's having a little get
together, a going away party, this Saturday, on Gary's
yacht and we're invited."

"Get together?"

"Yeah."

"We're invited?"

"Yeah."

"You and `me'?"

"Yeah."

"And I suppose you're going to be playing around in
that special little room of his?"

With a forced grin, he replies, "Yep."

"You know I don't like that stuff. What am I supposed
to do? Sit around and twiddle my thumbs?"

"Not exactly. You see, this kind of gets Gary off the
hook."

"Gary? He's going to San Francisco."

"San Francisco? What's in San Francisco?"

"I don't know. That's all he told me, but what's this
about Gary getting off the hook?"

"Well, instead of Gary being the center of
attraction... there will be other guys there... Rob
said I could take his place."

"Forget it, Mark!" I said adamantly, with a tinge of
anger.

"But don't you see? You'll get time to spend with
Gary."

By my own choice of words and feelings, I relayed,
"Gary and I are through. Besides, Gary is a
twenty-eight year old man. You're a sixteen year old
kid."

"So?"

"So, he's used to taking the kind of abuse that Rob
and his friends are going to be dishing out."

"How do you know?"

Maybe Mark can be the smartass all the time, but I do
my homework too. Going over to the computer, I waited
for it to catchup.

"What are you doing Sean?"

"You'll see."

I typed in www.nopainnogain.net.

"What's that?"

"I'm no idiot."

"I never said you were, Sean."

I could feel concern, Mark's hand on my shoulder, down
my shoulder blade, to the small of my back. Mine just
as geniune.

"Here. Read this."

Settling Mark down in the chair, in front of the
flatscreen monitor, I let him read the story I cued
up. More than a couple of times I heard him gulp,
Mark's signature of `worry'.

"But, this is a story... fiction."

"Read this."

I cued the mouse, scrolling it back to the beginning.

Mark read out loud, "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 sexual scenes, involving
male-to-male relationships offends you..."

He looked up at me.

"Keep reading!"

"If sexual scenes, involving male-to-male
realtionships offends you, then you ought not read
this story, by law. Check with your local laws,
regarding such. Sexual safety matters. This is
fiction. In the real world, use protection, during
sexual encounters. Caution: the following story could
contain actual scenarios from real BDSM encounters."

"Oh-maaaaaan, Sean! You mean to tell me that two guys
can whip one guy on the back, at the same time?"

"What does this T. Chase McPhee guy tell you?"

Gulp.

"That it could be real? That they can force a guy's
butthole open til it's as big as a liter bottle?" I
read for him.

Gulp.

"Do you want your butthole stuck open like that?"

Gulp.

"Nope."

"Do you want your balls stretched down to your knees?"

Mark fondled his own balls, looking in his lap, at his
knees.

"No way. Man that's gotta hurt! Do you think they do
that to Gary's balls?"

"I don't know. I hope not."

"Sean?"

"What?"

"How come you know of this? Why did you show it to
me?"

"Guess," is all I said, leaning over, giving him a
sweet kiss on the side of the head.

"Do you like love me or something?"

"I'll always love and care about you, Mark and I don't
want that type of stuff happening to you."

I lay down on the bed, putting my hands behind my
head, chilling out, getting ready for some shuteye.
Turning off the monitor, shutting down the system,
Mark walked over. He stood above the bed.

"Um, can you take these off of me?"

He twirled the chain in his thumb and fingers.

"I thought you said Rob wouldn't let you. What was
that about anyway?"

"He wanted me to leave them on til Saturday night. For
the party. Said he wanted my nips nice and swollen.
But now. I'm not so sure I want to go to the party.
So, will you take them off?"

"Hmm.... It'll cost ya," I joked.

"Anything," Mark replied, smiling.

I reached up and grabbed the middle of the chain.

"Hmm, this could come in handy," I said about the nice
chain I used to pull him down to me.

At first they stretched his teen nips a little,
letting out a hot sigh, then followed my pulling.

"That's hot!"

He sat there, his hard 6c laying on my semi-soft
shaft, his balls sagging, tapping on my pubes. Not
saying a word, Mark grasped mine and his together,
making me catch up.

"Oooooooh yeah."

I released the chain, as he sank down, lying flat on
the bed, his mouth enveloping my crotch. He moaned a
few times, I suspect the clamps rubbing on the bed.
Sometime, after Mark had taken my protein load, he
scrambled up next to me. I lay my wet cock to rest in
his ass crack, feeling up his bod. I don't where it
came from, but when my hand felt the chain, then one
of the clamps, still affixed to his nip, an idea ran
through my mind.

"Why don't you get rid of these temporary things and
get something permanent?"

I wanted to go to sleep, not have a raging lunatic in
the bed. What had I started now?

"You really mean it Sean? Hell yeah! When? Can we go
tomorrow and get me pierced? What kind of rings should
I get? Huh? Silver or gold? I think silver would be
nice! Hey, maybe I can get studs instead? What do you
think?"

I had to fuck him doggie-style, jerking his cock off
at the same time, `pulling his chain',  to get him to
calm down!

%

The next day, while at school, I saw my `sadsack'
hanging out at lunchtime.

"What's the matter? You look like you lost your best
friend?"

"Rob called."

"Oh. Bet he was disappointed, huh?"

"Him? He's not the one disappointed."

"But I thought we had this all settled. It's too
dangerous for you. Besides, you still want your nips
pierced, right?"

Mark smiled.

"Yeah. I didn't give up on that. It's just that."

"What, Mark?" I said tenderly.

"It's not going to go... happen the way your story
says."

"My story?"

"That McPhee guy's story. Rob says it's not going to
be rough. He says there's not going to be sticking
anybody's fist up anybody's ass. Okay, he says that
guys are going to be whipped, but..."

"Wait!"

"What?"

"You said guys. Meaning more than one?"

"Yeah and that's another thing. It's not going to be
just me and Gary there."

"There's going to be other guys?"

"Sure. Rob has a lot of friends that are into this.
Some are bottom guys, like me and others..."

Suddenly, a streak of delight creased Mark's lips.

"What? Tell me?"

"Dominic Raguso is going to be there."

"Who's Dominic Raguso?"

"He's on the wrestling team. Real hot stud, I tell
you."

"I take it you've met?"

"I'm on the wrestling team, too, dah!"

"But is he?"

"Yep. A faggot like us and into what Rob's into."

"Is he a topguy or bottom?"

"Top and Rob says he can fix it where he could own
me."

"Own you?"

"Yeah. That's what Rob says the party is about.
Topguys owning bottomguys."

"Owning?"

"Just for the night."

"And how does all this go?"

"Like McPhee's story."

"I thought you said it wasn't like McPhee's story?"

"I said it wasn't rough like his story reads. There's
not all that grisly torture stuff."

"But Rob did say that there's going to be whipping."

"Right, but not where a guy winds up with welts. Well,
not unless he wants it."

I was concerned. Very concerned, to say the least.
Here was my best buddy, my fuck buddy, my best friend,
telling me he was going to spend the evening at a
party where he could be made to do anything. I
couldn't let anything happen to my bud.

"I want to be there."

"I told you. You're invited."

"I mean, I want to be there - inside the room."

"Sean, I don't need you to protect me. Rob says if a
guy says `stop', they stop."

"Still. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened
to you, Mark."

"I've got to go, Sean. Got to get to my locker. Get to
the gym."

I wasn't going to let up on this. Mark wasn't going to
Rob's party without me being there with him. In the
same room. Yet, I cringed when I thought of all this
sadistic stuff going on.

"Hi Sean."

Looking up, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven.

"Hey, how ya doing, Aldo?"

With a slight accent, he informs me, "I tell you, you
can call me Al?"

"You did mention it, but... I like the name Aldo."

With that, Aldo came down to my level, sitting on the
wooden seat next to me.

"They have nice field here."

"Very," I replied.

Of course, in my definition of the layout of the track
and field complex, I wasn't talking only of the
squared off, high bushes, nor the fence surrounding
it, but rather the few of the football team that had
stripped off their shirts.

"You are in this surf club, yes?"

"I'm in the surf club."

"How `bout you teach me to surf?"

"Sure. I can give you some pointers, not that I'm an
expert."

"I come and go with you today?"

"Do you have a board?"

"I borrow my Uncle Sep's."

"You're uncle surfs, why not ask him?"

I waited while Aldo made up this big, long story of
why his Uncle Geseppi couldn't find the time. I had a
sneaky suspicion that half of it wasn't true, but
didn't let on.

"Okay, if you say so. Meet me at the beach at
three-fifteen?"

"This is great. I thank you."

What a cute guy, I thought. I've already had my eye on
him. I wasn't sure if he was like Mark and I, but I
wasn't positive he wasn't. So there was still hope. I
figured I better pick myself up and get a move on it,
before I wound up in detention, rather than on the
beach, after school. Walking across the field, I saw a
commotion taking place. None of the guys played
football. Instead they looked to the horizon.

"Oh shit!" I yelled, along with some of the others.

Looking towards the bay, a thick billowing of smoke
crowded out the sunny day.

"Must be a big one," one of the guys reported to his
teammate, of course meaning the fire, not the guy's
crotch next to him.

The bay. The only thing I could think of, as far as
the bay was concerned, is that night of the picnic.
One thought led to the other and the next thing I
though of is Mr. Martin... or Gary, rather. His yacht
is moored on the bay. My heart skipped a few beats. I
new I had a to go to my locker before going to class.
It's then I make a corporate decision. I shucked both
worries, adding a new one. Cutting the rest of the
school day. Adding to my misdemeanors, I `borrowed'
some kids bike from the rack,  not bothering to lock
it up. Jumping on it, I headed down Paseo Canyon
drive, turning right at the fork. I now travelled
parallel with the ocean. A couple of times I looked to
my right, to see a half-naked guy run with his board
under his arm, towards the water. I almost ran off
into a ditch, when a fire truck, coming up behind me,
blasted me off the road. Instead of cursing him out, I
pedaled hard to follow. I didn't really need to do
that. I knew Coronado Beach like the back of my hand.
I even slipped through an alleyway, off the beaten
path, cutting my journey in half. I started to get
palpitations, not from the bike riding, but rather
from the wide girth of black smoke that seemed to be
coming from the slip where Gary's boat had been kept.
On the dock, the town's two ambulances stood, it's
personnel outside the vehicles. I let the bike keel
over, in front of Murphy's bait and tackle shop and
headed to where a crowd began to amass. Just as I got
there, a cop came over. The Hispanic one, whom I
thought was kind of cute, Officer Contreras. He told
everyone to step back. Stepping back, brought everyone
to the point of almost standing in the middle of
Shoreline Drive, the main thoroughfare.

It's then I heard a faint cry call out, "Sean?"

Turning around, I panned the crowd, trying to see whom
it was that called out my name.

"Hey!"

Then, there he was, standing right next to me.

"I saw the smoke. I had to come and see."

"Me too," I informed Mark.

"Do you know anything? Have you seen Gary?"

"Um," I turned to Mark and whispered low, "we better
call him mister? You know?"

"Oh yeah. So... have you seen Mr. Martin?"

"No."

"C'mon."

"But they won't let us...."

I don't know what kind of pull Mark had with the cops,
but they let us venture forth a little.

"And where do you think you're... oh it's you, Mark."

It was him! My dreamy Spanish police officer!

"They said we could get a little closer."

"Who are you looking for?"

Stoopid me belts out, "Gary."

However, Mark corrected me right away, asking, "Have
you seen Mr. Martin?"

"Martin, you say?"

Officer Contreras rubbed his chin. I thought his
stache was cool. Even cooler though, was how his
uniform split at the neckline, showing off his hairy
chest. In the face of danger, I felt my pubes twitch.

"The school teacher?"

"That's him," Mark said.

"Well, his motorcycle isn't here, so."

"Motorcycle? Mr. Martin has a motorcycle?" I
exclaimed.

"Um yeah. If you haven't seen it, I think it's because
he just got it. Nice machine. Rides nice."

One thing occured to me. How did Officer Contreras
know that it `rode nice'. I wonder if he took a solo
trip on it or sat behind Gary, holding on to his hot
middle? I put such thoughts to rest.

"How did this get started?"

"Nobody knows yet, but I'm sure they'll find out.
Whew! Sure is a hot one."

Even Mark and I could feel the intensity of the heat.
Looking towards the dock, I could swear the burning
boat, engulfed in flames, was that of Gary's yacht. He
wasn't the only one with a boat of that size. At any
given time, four or five could be stationed there.

"Why aren't you in school?"

I turned.

The cop yelled out, "Gary!"

"I'm not the only one happy to see you."

Officer Contreras shook Gary's hand, but we sensed he
wanted to do something else. Like me, I wanted to hug
him, but didn't. From the beginning, I swore to keep a
secret and I haven't stopped from doing just that, so
a handshake had to do. It was different when Officer
Contreras shook his hand. He sort of held Gary's
elbow, when doing it. And, he stare at Gary, locking
eyes with him.

"You don't know how glad I am that you are alright,
amigo."

Mark turns to me and softly says, "I think you got
some competition, Sean!"

"Doesn't mean anything to me. C'mon. We better get
back to school before they miss us."

We said our goodbyes to `Mr. Martin', him thanking us.
Arriving back to school, we found we indeed `had' been
missed! At two forty-five, our butts assumed the free
parking spaces, in detention.

"My dad's gonna kill us! Can't we explain why? I mean
our concern has to merit something."

"Yeah," I replied sarcastically, "we're going to tell
dad... "

Sometimes I slipped and called Mark's dad like he was
my own. Same with his mom.

"We cut outta school because we cared about a teacher
we loved so dearly."

Mark scratched his head.

"You really like `love' Gary don't you?"

I stood there, ready to deny it, but the words never
came out. Not until Mark provoked me.

"Or is it still his hairy bod?"

Still I kept my mouth shut, til I fessed up to myself
as well, "No, it's more than that. How did you know?"

As if a know-it-all, which Mark could be at sometimes,
he puts a hand on my shoulder like we're headed into a
`man-to-man' talk.

"Sean, I could tell. Okay? It's like this sixth
sense."

"Yeah? You mean like you're psychic?"

"It's what Rob called it."

"Rob?"

"Yeah. He told me, he could tell, you and I had the
hots for each other, as soon as he laid eyes on us, at
the picnic. He called it this `gaydar' thing."

"Gaydar?"

"Yup. `Said he picked up on it right away. Know what
else?"

"What?"

"Rob said he knew I was a sub."

"Sub?"

It then occured to me what Mark meant, my brain
remembering one of McPhee's slave stories, the bottom
guy submitting to the top, even though he didn't want
to. However, Mark talked faster than my brain could
operate.

"Yup. That day he put me in the stocks, he said he
knew I would suck his cock even if he didn't whip my
ass."

"Then why did he whip your ass?"

"Another part of his gaydar, I suppose. Each time he
hit my ass with the strap, he said something like,
`You like that boy, don't you?'"

"I already know the answer to that!"

Mark smiled at me.

"So. What do I tell my dad?"

"I dunno. We've got an hour to think on it... oh
maaaaaaan!"

"Whatsamatter?"

"I was supposed to meet Aldo on the beach, for some
surf lessons."

"Cool!"

"Not cool," I said, a lot less cheeful than Mark.

"Is he like..... us?"

"I don't know. After you left me, on the bleechers, he
came over and asked me to teach him how to surf. I'm
not reading into anything here."

Mark didn't press it, as we reached the classroom
where detention was taking place. We signed in and
took our seats, him reminding me about the little
white lie I was to make up. However, when my ass hit
the chair, all I could think of is the handsome
Italian guy I would be missing on the beach. I sure
hoped he was patient and waited the half hour.
Naturally, I began to silently put myself down.

%

2B continued

Copyright 2006 T. Chase McPhee

This story may not be sold, nor made part of any
collection, without prior consent from the author.