Date: Sat, 24 Jul 2010 11:50:28 -0700 (PDT)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: Bar Tab Buy-out! 18

The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any
resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely
coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons,
of continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns, villages,
neighborhoods, streets, cul-de-sacs, nor governmental or non-governmental
areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male
relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if guy-to-guy
sex stuff makes you barf or is going to screw up your mind, you should not
read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most
states and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check
with your local laws regarding such.

% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use
protection.

Bar Tab Buy-out! 18
wriTten by Travis Chase McPhee

%

"Hold it up a minute Mike!"

He had Rich all trussed up, cuffs on his wrists and fastened above his
head, his bod hauled up so only his toes barely touched the floor.

"What?" Mike questions Vince Rodgers, almost into the first swing of his
hand, encased in a boxing glove. The glove lay right against Rich's
stomach, right above his navel, where the first swing was intended.

"I just got off the phone with my Greek counterpart."

"Yeah?" Mike listened, boxing gloves resting on either side of his torso.

Vince, eyeing Mike up and down, "I did a little conniving and I have a few
clients interested in you putting on a show."

In his own manner of thinking, Mike replies, "The answer is 'no'. If you
think I'm going to put on a striptease show for..."

"No, no, no... nothing like that Mike," Vince says. "What I had more in
mind is you putting on a show or a portrait of your authority."

"And how would that go?" Mike asks.

Marco was on the sidelines, listenting intently.

Rich, if he could see beyond the inside of the black mask, he still
wouldn't be able to voice an opinion, with only his nose exposed for
breathing purposes. Of course, Mike would have detached the small mouth
plug just so he could hear Rich's reaction to each gutpunch with the boxing
gloves.

As if a screen director, Vince spells it out, "Let me ask your opinion on
how you would feel about saving your energy for breaking this boy in front
of say, ten or twelve spectators and in the course of working him over, you
invite audience participation a person at a time?"

"What?" Mike says, obvious disappointment showing.

With Vince smiling, Marco knew the punchline was about to come.

"Of course, I know you're thinking, 'he doesn't expect me to do this for
nothing'," Vince explains, "so, there's five grand in it for you, plus a
holiday sunning on the beach for as long as you would like to stay."

Thinking there an angle, Mike asks, "What's a motel cost? Five grand?"

"You'll stay at a beach villa, free of charge, which includes food and any
other amenity you choose."

Still relucant, Mike asks, "And who am 'I', to deserve such luxury living?"

"Okay, so there's a catch," Vince spills.

"Aha!" Mike says with exclamation. "Isn't there always?"

"Actually, I think you may like this."

"I'll let you know after you fill me in?"

Vince responds, "Fair enough. Your host at the villa, James Anastopoulos,
whom Marcos is acquainted with..."

Marco, who is paying attention, states, "Probably the major stockholder of
Barnett-Tarkington industries, who had entrusted the Barnett brothers with
millions, as an investment in their company, only to find they will not be
repayed anytime soon, perhaps within the next hundred years!"

"Thanks for the history lesson," Mike replies. "You want to get on with
it?" Still with his partial attention on Rich, Mike eager to get back to
his playing, he rubs his crotch with his boxing glove.

"Anastopoulos has a beautilful setup within the grounds of his
villa. Something which would," Vince scans the room, "rival the looks of
this place a hundred times over."

"Really?" Mike shows interest. "Like what are we talking here?"

Smiling, Vince replies, "Marquis de Sade would be proud of Anastopoulos, if
he were alive today!"

"Really?" Mike says, his boxing glove really keeping him firm, Rich no
longer the cause.

"As I understand it, the younger Barnett brother, Adam," he looks to Marco,
"has been aquitted of all charges."

"That's right," Marco agrees.

"However, the other two Barnett brothers stand to be put on trial. Of
course, we've worked out a little under-the-table deal with Anastopoulos,
where he would be able to 'extract' some pleasure of compensation, since in
all likelihood, he will not be seeing much of his investment returned."

Looking to Marco for confirmation, he says, "It's the way I heard it!"

Seeing the pieces fit together, Mike says, "And I suppose this is where I
come in, using my expertise to 'help' Mr. Androstopalis..."

"Anastopoulos," Vince and Marco says nearly the same matched syllables,
Vince stating, "Ana-stop-o-los!"

"Whatever, so he wants me to take care of the two Barnett brothers in the
torture chamber of his villa in exchange for allowing me to stay there and
enjoy the facilities?"

"There's one other thing," Vince says.

Facetiously Mike says, "It sounded nice!" He expects dire conditions.

Marco says, "Listen up, Mike."

Before either can say, Mike tells them, pointing the finger, rather boxing
glove, "You two..." Then singling out, "Marco, how come you didn't say
anything..."

"Don't blame Marco," Vince replies. "He's only a go between," and figuring
he better fill Mike in before he goes running off his mouth with what he
supposes, "what I was going to say is, if Anastopolos likes how you handle
things, both at his place and party, you could be looking at a permanent
job in the Greek Isles!"

"Hmm," Mike replies, rubbing his boxing glove on his chin, much like he
would do his hand when figuring things.

"But of course, the latter details you would need to work out with
Anastopolos. Our obligation involves only the party."

Marco, concerned about his own welfare asks Vince, "And Rich here would
suffice for my replacement?"

Walking over to Rich, his bod like one long, straight line, stretched out
from hands above his head, to toes touching the floor, he says, "A nice
specimen and the tough exterior I've witnessed, I think he will make an
excellent player for those paying to watch a slave being broken. What's
your opinion, Mike?"

"Huh?" Mike replies, hearing his name. Really he was off to a faraway
place, possibly in Greece, contemplating his future. Really, he's had
offers to sell his company and remain on board as a consultant. This new
opportunity would fit into his life comfortably.

Marco, standing right before him says, "Vince was wondering about Rich."

"What about him?"

Vince says, "Better than asking, why don't you give us a little
demonstration of his resilience?"

Observing his place as Vince's bodyguard, Vladimir Ovechkin breaks silence,
"Need some help?"

Mike likes 'the look', thinking how hot it would be to have a 'two-on-one'
with the 6'4 Russian. Too, on a different vein, he thought how hot it would
be having Vlad's ass perched over a 'horse'. If he was nice, maybe he would
get some 'payback'!

Walking around back of Rich, Vladimir says, "I can stand back here and keep
him from swinging?"

Mike watches as Vladimir stands behind Rich and even though trussed up in
bondage, the thirty-five year old Russian was able to press his chest
against Rich's back, weave his arms around front and place his hands behind
Rich's neck, putting him in a full nelson.

"I like your style!" Mike said, winking. As he started boxing Rich's
stomach, he could almost feel like his cock was boxing Vlad's ass!

%

"Okay. Is that good?"

"Scott, you only gave me one lash!" Tony said of the strap landing across
his ass cheeks.

"I know."

Silence prevailed.

"You're supposed to be punishing me. You owe me another nineteen lashes
across my butt!"

"I know, but...."

Seeing this going nowhere, Tony asks what he's sure of, "Have you had
enough for today?"

In reality, Tony could have gone on all day and night, but with the feeling
this little bit of pain and pleasure was enough for Scott, he decided it
was better to do a little at a time.

"Yeah, can we stop?" Scott replies.

So it went, Scott hastily releasing the stocks.

"Oh, you're supposed to take the weight off my balls before you do that,"
Tony instructs as he has difficulty standing up.

"Oops!" Scott says. Then with a brilliant idea, "Why don't you sit down?"

"I dunno," Tony literally weighs it for himself, standing and allowing his
weighted balls to swing. But seeing this not being too thrilling for Scott,
he kneels before sitting. "Hey!"

"What?" Scott questions.

"Come over here a minute!"

Scott walks over to Tony, whom immediately and without any indication,
takes Scott's cock in his mouth.

"Ohh-h-h-h-h-h!" Scott bellows out words and breath, dropping his head
back. "Oh yea-a-ah!" he says, looking down, then dropping back again,
feeling Tony's tongue massage his shaft inside the warm envelope of his
mouth. "Oh-h-h man you're good!"

As a bottom does, Tony looks up upon Scott seeing how much enjoyment he's
getting out of sucking down his cock, his hand begins double duty.

The extra movement below causes Scott to fade out and refocus. "Getting
overly randy are we, 'boy'?"

Popping off Scott's lollipop, Tony says, "I bet I'm not the only one!"

He just knew he would get a reaction, saying, "I wonder if there's
something I could bend your ass over?" He laughed, watching Tony search
about, then after spotting an appropriate piece of furniture, run to it and
slap his chest down upon it.

"How's this?" Tony says.

Right behind Tony, literally, Scott moves Tony's asscheeks apart slightly.

"I better hurry up before the 'lube' dries!" He giggled, but Scott's humor
subsided fast, as the tip of his cockhead began probing for the entrance to
the cave!

%

After the first two gloved punches to Rich's gut, Mike backed off, punching
his hands together, same time giving Rich some down time.

Vladimir, relaxing his 'full nelson' grip on Rich, brings up, "I like it so
much better when a boy is not trussed up in this bondage!"

"Suit yourself!" Mike says. Of course he had some ulterior motives here.

Vladimir reaches up to hoist Rich down out of the clutches of cuffs and
chains, reaching up to grab at the winch.

While his bod is in full extension, Mike pulls all the stops out and saying
it, "Wham! Pow!" he gives Vladimir the old one-two! "Oh fuck!" Mike
complains when it has no effect on him.

"Surprised of my tough abs?"

"Um, yeah," Mike says sheepishly, wondering if it's his turn to pay!

"Now I get even!"

Banking on him being about ten years younger, Mike hoped for leniency. But
that 'respect your elders' crap went right out the window, Vladimir putting
his arms around Mike and holding him his prisoner.

"This should be interesting," Vince says as Vlad waltzes Mike across the
room, squeezed in a bear hug.

This was one thing which irked Marcos, Vince having no allegiance to
anybody, except what seemed himself. When Mike sneaked the old one-two on
Vladimir, Vince was cheering on Mike. Now, with Vlad wiping the floor up
with Mike, Vince changes his tune again. Marco then gets a really cool
idea. 'What if Vince were a pawn in 'subservient' position?' First, as he
already guessed, Vlad didn't have all the angles on wrestling, Mike Turk
being a college champ. Secondly, with Vince's bodyguard a pawn in the
wrestling match with Mike, this left his boss vulnerable. Third, he knew
the outlay of the place and it was easy as pie to find a pair of cuffs, a
pair some cop left here one night. Using the cuffs as a battering ram,
Marco held both in one hand. His plan was simple. He called out, "Hey
Vince!"

Vince turned around as swifty as Marco's plan went, his fist plunging into
Vince's fat belly with a vengeance! "Hough-h-h-h-h-ohh-h-h-h-shit!"

Doubling over, Marco actually found it funny, hearing the chub belch out
loud. What wasn't funny is when he realizes maybe he's overstepped his
boundaries and now what does he do? With slick precision, he grabs an arm
and draws Vince's arm behind his back, placing one of the cuffs around
it. "Oh shit!" Marco says, knowing now he did something he should not have
done. Hastily, the arm Vince is using to hold his sore gut, Marco pulls it
back and cuffs his wrists together. "Hey gu-u-u-u-uys! I think we got a
problem here!" When they didn't pay attention, especially since Mike had
the upper hand, having Vlad almost bent in half backwards, Mike's hands
under his chin and readying to twist his head off, Marco places two fingers
in his mouth and shrieks out a whistle and "Guys! Will you the cut the
fuckin' shit and get over here?"

This time, Mike thought something in dire straits, especially when he
didn't see Vince about the room. He literally runs across the room to where
Marco is standing, and the forty-one year old is bending over, on his
knees. "Shit! What happened?"

"I just did a spur of the moment stoopid thing!"

"Damn right you did!" Vince yells at him as he starts to stand up. Turning
around facing the two he says, "You better fuckin' get these cuffs offa me
before you're in anymore fuckin' trouble!"

Dread was felt through both their bods as Marco and Mike hear, "You know
what guys?" Too, what added to their fears, Vlad was leaning, his right arm
on Mike's left shoulder, bracing his left arm on Marco's shoulder, a bridge
to what was happening.

Feeling things copasetic between himself and Vlad, Mike asks, "What?" He
still was on his guard.

"I've always wanted to help Vince with his obesity. If you have an extra
set of those boxing gloves, maybe I can help him lose some weight?"

"You better fuckin' not lay one hand on me!" Vince threatened.

Walking between the two, Vlad takes Vince by the five hundred dollar
designer shirt he was wearing and tears it down the middle as he says, "And
who's gonna stop me, 'boss'!"

A gutpunch put Vince back on his knees. His dress jacket was torn as Vlad
picked him up by it and then sent him to his knees again as Vlad complains,
"I'm sick of takin' orders from you. Maybe it's time the organization had a
'new' boss!"

Marco jokes with Mike, "Looks like we're going to have a new boss!"

"I only hope this doesn't jeopardize my living at the villa in the Greek
Isles!"

"Living at the villa in the Greek Isles? Ya got that right," Vlad replied.

But Marco and Mike glance at each, like something doesn't jive.

Picking up his former boss, Vlad reveals, "Sure, Vince here had you all set
up for living at the villa, but try 'living in the basement torture
chamber'!"

"You fuckin' bastard!" Mike exclaims. He had the boxing gloves on, so
didn't hesitate using them, except instead of to his gut, Mike aimed lower.

"Oooh-h-h-h-oh!" Vince complained, the blunt blow to his balls.

Because before, Vlad knew where his next paycheck was coming from. However,
now the tide was turning, him perceiving becoming his own boss, he held no
allegiance. So, grabbing Vince under the arms and hauling his bod up from
bending over, he gives the option, "Go ahead, Mike. Box his balls a few
more times. Throw in a few hefty punches for me!"

Vlad laughs as Mike taps the boxing gloves together, "My extreme pleasure!"

"Oh-h-h-h-h!" Marco gasps, contorting his face at the voracity in which
Mike throws his fist in between Vince's legs.

After he was done, for now, Vlad allows Vince to drop from his clutches,
saying, "Nice job, Mike!"

The two lock arms as if feeding each other a glass of champayne. Marco,
watching, could swear the two meant more to each other than one guy
thanking the other for the good job in the ball bashing. Then, he rolls his
eyes, shaking his head, his assumptions proving correct when the two close
in to each other's face, lip locking.

Breaking, the are alerted to the realty of things once more, hearing some
moaning. They glance down at the floor.

"Got key?" Vlad asks.

Producing it, Marco held it up for Vlad, saying, "It'll cost ya twenty
bucks!"

Vlad says, "How about I don't bash your balls in and we call it even?"

"That'll do it!"

%

Copyright 2010 T. Chase McPhee

`Bar Tab Buy-out!' may not be sold, nor made part of any collection,
without prior consent from the author.

The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness!
TCMcP.....