Date: Wed, 8 Mar 2006 17:25:03 -0800 (PST)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: "Buffalo Boys" 02

The story below is a work of fiction, set in the
format of reality. Any resemblance to real people is
entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to
accurately reflect upon persons in towns, cities, or
governmental areas, in which the story is staged. If a
sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships
offends you, then you should not read this story.
Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in
most state and countries, you are not allowed to read
this story by law. Check with your local laws
regarding such. Sexual safety matters. This is
fiction. Use protection in real life. `Got condom?'

"Buffalo Boys" 02
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

With the setting of the sun, the boys of Buffalo Lodge
had been left with several instructions. Among the
more urgent, having to relieve Dougie of his bound
position to the whipping post, had the boys working as
a team.

Tallest, Marat at six foot, one inch, had to stand on
his toes, the front of his bod leaning against the
tall trunk, to open up the leather cuffs.

"Easy now," Marat cautioned, as he released Dougie's
left wrist from it's leather binding.

"Ooooohhhh..." Dougie moaned.

"Sorry, guy," Marat called out. "I'll have you out of
this in no time."

"I... I feel soooo sore..." Came the reply of anguish.

"The bastard didn't hold back," Ron Hastings, from
Massachusetts complained, in his Bostonian accent.

Much like the Boston vernacular, with an Irish
inflection, Maclyn added, "Same as my pa used to do.
Whipped us as hard as he could."

"Makes me feel like I got off easy," Dario replied,
reaching under Dougie's armpit to catch him, as Marat
released the remaining wrist from the black, leather
cuff.

"You never got a beating?" Gil Elliot questioned
Dario.

"Not like this. Sure, my old man beat me up when he
got drunk enough."

The seven Buffalo boys chatted as they all tried
helping get Dougie from the circle of sand, around the
whipping post. Four carried the victim underarms and
by legs, to the cabin, pointed out earlier, to be
their summer lodge.

"Beat you? Like how?" Jason Wragg asked.

"You know," The Latino-Italian replied, "like giving a
guy that ole `one-two'?"

"He beat you with his fists?"

"Well sure," Dario could nonchalantly relate.

"Wow, I guess I got it good!"

Jason asked Elliot, "How does that go?"

"Well, not that I bucked the system, but I did once
get into deep shit."

They waited for how Elliot got disciplined by his
`rents.

"Couldn't drive my 4x4 for two whole weeks!"

In light of what Dougie had gone through, some
sarcasticism subsisted.

"Poor Elliot couldn't drive to the ATM!" Ron Hastings
mocked.

A few laughed, until Dougie's groan, going through the
cabin door, pained him.

"Easy guys," Marat cautioned them.

Jason thought how dreamy Marat's French accent
sounded. But it wasn't only that aspect of the
Frenchman that warmed his innards!

"C'mon. Let's put him over here," Gil took the
initiative at the first bunk they came to.

"'Amount my old man's.... shelling out... they...
could've... least made the bed!"

The Seven Buffalo boys stood amazed at the way Dougie
bounced back, from the ten welts crisscrossing his
back.

>From not hearing a reaction, Dougie made his own
astounding comment, "Hey, it'll take more than that to
keep a Hazard down!"

Turning from laying on his chest, Dougie tried to rise
up.

"Owwwch! Ooooh!"

"Easy there, Dougie!"

Again, the tallest of the Buffalo boys, Marat, the hot
Frenchman, from Jason's view, stood as their fearless
leader.

"Hey, anybody got some vaseline or cream or
something?"

"I've got some cocoa butter," Dario offered, to
Marat's asking.

Digging into his gearbag, Dario began unscrewing a
wide-capped container.

In the meantime, Maclyn Darragh came forth, offering
the advice, "From experience, I know we should wipe it
clean, first."

"That's the second time you've said that Mac," Ron
Hastings recalled. "This happen to you often?"

"Not too much. More to my older brother than me. Yeah,
I learned more from him getting a whipping than me, I
suppose."

Trailing off into the jon, connecting the Buffalo
boys' cabin with that of the Wolve's Lodge, Maclyn
began filling Ron in.

"So, your bro was a bad kid?"

"Sometimes. Yeah, sure. We all had our bad days, but
my pa used to like to pick on Patrick. I didn't let on
to our pa that I was gay."

"You're gay, Mac?" Ron questioned him.

Maclyn looked strangely back at Ron, as if reflecting
the thought, `I'm not stupid!' Ron then got the idea
of the stare back at him.

"Yeah, okay, so I'm gay too!"

As Maclyn wrung out the wash cloth, rinsing it a
coupla times, he explained, "It's probably the only
reason I'm here."

"'Splain, Mac?" Ron asked, walking back to the cabin
with Maclyn.

"This is how it goes. Y'see, Patrick, that's my older
`gay' brother, clued our pa into my sexuality, before
he lit out from home."

"He ran away."

"Yep. Anyway, so I became the target."

"He beat you?"

"Fortunately, only once. But once was enough."

Almost inside the screen door of the cabin, Maclyn
stopped, his head hanging down, in thought.

"What's the matter Mac?" the eighteen year old,
concerned bud asked, a hand on his shoulder.

Maclyn turned his head slightly, rubbing his day old
reddish stubble on the back of Ron's hand.

"You're sweet," he commented, a slight grin.

Realizing it, as if a hot iron touched his hand, Ron
withdrew it.

"Shy lad!"

The grin turned to a toothy smile.

"Something wrong?"

"Nah. It's just that I'm not... well..."

"Out about your sexuality?"

The dark brown-haired, eighteen year old,
Massachusetts college guy turned red, at Maclyn's
truthful guess.

Then, alluding to the matter in his hand, Maclyn
states, "I'd better get this inside."

"Um, sure," Ron concedes.

"But anytime you want to talk about it, Ron, I'm a
good listener."

"I'll remember that," Ron told him, smiling back.

It's strange that Ron though for sure that since he
sat with Gil Eliot the whole time on the bus, from the
airport, to camp, that he'd find a friendship in the
Canadian. Now things looked different from this
perspective.

"What'd you do, Mac? Stop off for a quick fuck?"

More like his old self, Dougie's color had returned,
along with his brash composure.

"Will til you feel `this' on your back!"

"Some of us are made of stronger stuff, Mac."

However, when Marat gently placed the lukewarm
washcloth on two welts, garnered by the leather strap,
Dougie saw stars all over again.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhshiiiiiiiiiiiit!" The nineteen year old
grimaced.

"Sorry," Maclyn sided with Dougie's grief.

"If you only knew," Dougie commented back.

"No," Ron relayed, from his recent conversation, "Mac
really knows how you feel."

"Say what?" Dougie winced again, as Marat touched the
moist cloth to his back, but directed his questioning
Ron's way.

"Tell him, Mac," Ron put it to the Irish lad.

The other Buffalo Lodge teens showed likewise
interest, as they slowly unpacked their gear bags.

"Nothing much to tell. My older brother, Patrick
thought he could trust our pa with telling him about
his attraction to other men, instead of women. Bad
move though. You see, our mother died when our other
brother was born."

"He gay too?" Jason butt in.

"No, he's dead."

Things got solemn.

"The reason why.... you know."

As before, Ron made the connection, hand to shoulder,
for solace.

"Thanks," came the soft emotion from Maclyn, before
carrying on with his story. "Patrick came out before
going off to school here, in America. For two years he
put up with our pa's beatings. At first it was because
our pa thought he could beat it out of Patrick."

"Beat being gay, out of a person?"

They all looked at Scott Tsutsumi. It had been the
most he's said to them, in the whole time it took to
journey from the airport, to Timber Creek Fitness
Camp.

Dario picks up on the thought, reporting, "Yeah, some
assholes are dumb enough to believe that they can do
that."

"Idiots!" Jason seconds it.

"Wait. Let Mac finish," Dougie insists, as Marat
changes over from wet cloth to the cocoa butter.

"This is going to hurt."

Looking at Marat, Dougie replies, "Yeah, right."

Smiling, Marat slaps Dougie on the shoulder, as if to
say, `lie down'.

"Ooooooooooh shit!"

"Oops! Sorry. I didn't mean to do that, Dougie. I
swear!"

"Wouldn't be so bad if I had somebody to fuck!"

Dougie's joke turned into an onslaught of volunteers.

At first bat, Jason offers, in his Aussie-Brit
dialogue, "Hey, wouldn't mind having my ass pounded!"

"Don't look at me," Marat states, shucking off the
question of bottoming.

"You can take my ass, anytime," Gil offers.

His secret admirer, Dario looks over towards Gil.

"Can I volunteer?"

"Hell yeah!" Gil then switches allegiances.

"Think fast!"

Marat throws the little tub of cocoa butter to Maclyn.

"What tha?" Maclyn catches it, as if a football to his
gut, only on a smaller scale.

Dougie more orders than questions, "Well, you going to
drop the pants, Jason?"

Then, it's Marat that informs Dougie, "I'm taking his
ass. You can drive your spear down his throat!"

Okaying the action, after the good job Marat has done
taking care of him, Dougie asks, "Yeah. Okay, bro.
Help me get these jeans off?"

"No problem, bro."

As if going for it himself, Marat then orders, "Hey
Scott, how about stripping Dougie down?"

"Why Scott?" Ron asks.

"Get off it," Marat goes on to explain, of his own
thoughts and understanding, "didn't you see the way he
bowed down to Michaelis?"

Dougie picks up on the servitude remark and states,
"Yeah, betcha if Michaelis told you to, you'd eat his
ass out, Scott!"

Scott didn't say anything further. He figured they all
thought the way Dougie and Marat did. A couple of the
teens supported the Asian.

"Want to eat my ass out Dougie?" Maclyn surprised them
all with his moxie.

"Ooooooh, you gonna take that from Mac, Dougie?" Jason
questioned.

Having a hot fixation over the red-haired Irishman,
the red goatee adorning his handsome features, Dougie
had some lusts of his own.

"Why don't you just warm up my ass with your tongue,
Jason?"

"Hell yeah!" the eighteen year old bottom replied.

"Forget that," Marat told Dougie off, "my cock is hard
up for a fuck. I'm taking Jason's ass right now!"

"You don't have to get cocky, Marat!"

They all laughed off Dougie's humorous remark.

Marat didn't wait for any guy to strip him down. In a
minute's time, he knelt at the edge of the bed. Jason
lay on his back, with his ass at the edge. Dougie lay
with his pubes over Jason's face.

"Don't fuckin' smother me, man!"

Having every reason to sqwauk, Jason readjusted his
nostrils, to avoid getting his air ducts cut off by
Dougie's thick pubic bush. Sinking his 9c into Jason's
mouth, helped remedy that.

"What tha?" Dougie sighed, turning his head.

In addition to having his cock sunk deep into Jason's
throat, something wet touched his ass.

"Okay?"

As he turned his head, Dougie smiled, okaying the fact
that it was well and good that Scott Tsutsumi's tongue
reached down through his hairy asscrack, to massage
his tender hole.

"Yeah, but don't getting any ideas about fucking me,
Scottie-boy!"

"Only with my tongue, okie-dokie, Dougie?"

"Bring it on, man!" Then turning in the opposite
demeanor, Dougie cursed out Jason, "Watch the fuckin'
teeth!"

Wasn't much Jason's fault. How could see over Dougie's
bod, plastered on his, to see Marat's 10.5c pressured
against his ass sphincter.

"Oh man, you're so fuckin' tight Jason!" Marat
`complained'!

Meanwhile, Maclyn tried keeping his attention on
swabbing down Dougie's back with the cocoa butter.

"Um, Mac?"

The red-headed Irishman looked up, seeing Ron Hastings
standing there.

"Okay if I.. Um..."

As if reading his mind, Maclyn replied to Ron, "Yeah,
but strip down so I have something hot to keep my mind
on?"

The reason Maclyn was hard as a rock, rubbing his own
erection through his jeans, was his mindset on the hot
bed action. However, Ron provided a new interest and
it excited the hell out of him to see what he had to
offer underneath the clothing.

"Oh fuck you better hurry, Ron!"

Maclyn's jeans already showed a wet spot. His 8.5c was
making his jean's burst at the seams, watching Ron
strip down.

"Hot chest!"

"Thanks," Ron replied.

Totally in the buff, Ron knelt down and began
unfastening Maclyn's belt. Soon he had the same-aged
teen disregarding the cocoa butter duty.

"Oooooooh that feels great, Mac!"

"He is gone."

"Gone?"

Looking over his shoulder, Dougie sees a void in the
chair where Maclyn previously occupied.

"Okay I stop ass massage to use cocoa butter?"

"Yeah, man," Dougie approved.

At the same time, Dougie noticed Scott's beefy chest.

"Hot nips, man," he commented.

"You like to play with?"

"Huh?" Dougie questioned.

At the same time, Dougie was losing interest in the
attention his cock was getting from Jason's throat.
Same token, Marat's 10.5c lay deep inside Jason,
giving him quite the workout.

"Fuck this! Let's go find our own action," Dougie
finally said, abandoning Jason's throat. "Damn, you
guys didn't waste any time!"

Looking around the room, Ron was perched on a bed,
Maclyn's 8.5c buried to the hilt. Dario had Gil
doubled in half.

"Damn! We're in last place, Scottie-boy!"

Having Scott jump in the sack, Dougie made him lie on
his back. Picking up the Asian's legs, he immediately
lined his cock up with the tight hole.

"Don't worry, Scottie-boy. I'll take it nice'n'easy."

"No don't."

"Huh?" Dougie looked at Scott as if a man from Mars.
"What's it with you, Scottie-boy?"

"I like to feel you shovel your cock in me."

"Look, I've got nine inches of fat meat here and..."

"Please?"

"Okay," Dougie said, matter-of-factly, "it's your
hole, man."

"It feel good for you?"

"You know it will, man!"

Scott howled, as if a wolf doing the moon, but for
Dougie it was like reaching for the heavens.

"Oh yeeeeeeaaah... oh fuck yeah!" Dougie squealed with
delight. "You alright, Scottie-boy?"

"It feel very good."

"Must be painful, man."

Dougie already knew that, but wanted a gut feeling
from Scott, to try to comprehend why he liked the
pain. To add to the relished feeling, Scott took
Dougie's hands in his.

"You play with me?"

"What? You want me to squeeze your nips?"

"Yes, please?"

"Sure. Whatever turns you on, man."

Dougie actually got a kick out of mashing Scott's nips
in between his fingers and thumbs. Scott even provoked
him to the point of utilizing his fingernails.
Massaging his tight ass, Dougie developed his own
system of using the pulling action of Scott's nips, in
the counterbalance of parking his cock in the Asian's
ass.

"What the fuck is going on here?"

All action came to a halt when the screen door slammed
shut.

`Uh-oh's!' could be heard around the room, as cocks
ceased operating inside ass canals.

At least Marat got to shoot his load deep into Jason's
ass chamber before pulling out.

"Attention and right now!" The order came from the
German counselor's lips.

Lining up, he made the rounds.

"From this day forward, I own your cocks! Any
questions?"

Of course Dougie had to open his big mouth.

"I'll fuckin' jerk off when I want to and there's
nothing you can do to stop me! Stop any of us!"

His shoulders turned towards Reinken, but Dougie's
cock still had been lodged deep into Scott's ass
chambers.

"Hot fuck, eh?" Reinken says to Dougie, smiling.

As if getting buddy-buddy with the eighteen year old,
Reinken places his hands on Dougie's shoulders,
lightly massaging them.

"Yeah. Real tight man."

He shouldn't have been so trusting back.

"Oh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!" Dougie screams out, as
Reiken pulls backwards.

Dougie goes tumbling off the bottom of the bed,
landing on his ass, his cock popping out of Scott's
ass with a pucker sound.

"You're dead meat!"

Reinken stood a coupla inches taller than Dougie, but
twenty pounds heavier. Not an ounce of body fat
encompassed neither of the men's frames.

"C'mon," Reinken provoked Dougie on with his hand.

Possibly Reinken thought he was taking on some
backwoods boy from Tennessee, but he learned Dougie
had a few martial arts moves that wasn't in the
redneck bible!

First move, credited Reinken with sending Dougie into
the buttend of a bunk. However, Dougie's quick
recovery and dealings, had his foot socked into
Reinken's belly. It affected him more by surprise,
than knocking the wind out of him. After all Reinken's
physique sported a finely crafted six pack.

"I knew those Jackie Chan movies would pay off!"

The room wired with sweat and anxious moments, sent a
round of laughter throughout the cabin. It became
short-lived, as Reinken's fist caught Dougie in the
gut. The boy from the backwoods wasn't finished yet
though. A punch upwards, tangled with Reinken's balls.

"Ooooooooooooh!" The six foot, two German cried out,
doubling over, turning around, as if in retreat.

"Yeah, that'll make you run with your tail between
your legs, Kraut!"

Bad enough that Dougie embarrassed Reinken with his
punching out action, but the racial slur renewed the
embers.

When Reiken turned on Dougie and began using his
stomach as a punching bag, some of the guys began to
worry.

"Hey, that's enough!" Jason called out, jumping on
Reinken's back, riding him as if a bronco.

The Aussie wound up bouncing off the wall. It took
Marat, Maclyn and Dario to pry Reinken off of Dougie.
Eventually he shucked each of them, but left the
screen door banging shut.

As he left them, Reinken shouted back, "You're all in
deep shit! You're grounded!"

Like before, Marat was the first to scrape Dougie up
off the floor.

"You okay, dude?" The Frenchman coined the American
phrase.

"I'll survive. Ooooooh," he sighed, holding his
stomach. "Man, does that Reinken dude have a heavy
fist!"

%

02 Continued....

Copyright 2006  T. Chase McPhee
This story may not be sold or made part of any
collection without prior written permission.

"The more you stretch, the more you can fit in...
'spread' happiness!"
  T. Chase McPhee... circa 2005