Date: Fri, 31 Mar 2006 13:38:49 -0800 (PST)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: Buffalo Boys 08

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" 08
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"Now, let's see. I have a grand total of twenty
demerits slated for you, Bud." After a brief silence,
Dav carried on, however, let's see if we can whittle
that down, with a plea bargain?"

It's then that Bud felt the counselor's hand graze
over his lightly haired ass.

"Not bad. Tell me, Bud, have you always been a
virgin?"

"What the fuck you taking about, Khan?"

"Tsk! Tsk!," He made light of the insuboordination.
"You know we can straighten out this little
`misunderstanding' without any corporal punishment?"

Bud knew what Khan was alluding to. No, he wanted his
stripes, same as the other guys. No way was he about
to jeopardize his virgin ass, in lieu of a whipping.

"Cut that shit out and just give me what's due me!"
Bud shouted out, as Dav's index found his asshole.

"Maybe you need a little persuasion?"

Hearing Khan practice revving up the leather strap,
hearing it whiz through the air, Bud braced himself.
Taking in a deep breath, his chest emptying, feeling
the abrasion of the bark of the whipping post rub
against his pecs, the inhale lining his navel up with
his spine, he prepared for the onslaught.

"Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk..Oooooohshit!"
He cried out.

"I didn't hear you, boy."

Being onery, not wanting to give in, to Khan's
pleasures of hearing him submit, Bud remained silent.

Smiling, the twenty-eight year old sadistic counselor
put all his weight behind the next lash.

Bud's body seemed to jump in the air, his pubes
mashing up against the rough bark, his whole body
shuddering, his vocal chords hoarse from screaming out
so loudly.

"Hmm," Dav sighed, "our first open wound of the day!"

By that, Bud realized he was bleeding. He wondered how
much more of this he could take."

%

"What's this?" Nick questioned Dougie, looking at the
doctored up pink dermerits pad.

"What's what?" Dougie played dumb. "I brought you your
pad back so that you can deal out my punishment and us
guys can get on with our lives."

"It's a shame," Nick commented, opening the cupboard
and extracting the leather strap.

"Um, what is?" Dougie inquired, his eyes stuck like
glue to the whipping implement.

"That you have to take on the world all by yourself."

"What the fu... what is that supposed to mean, Nick?"

"That you and your father don't get along, so you have
to prove to every man that resembles his authority
that you can take it from him?"

"What are you? So kind of headshrinker, Nick?"

"Getting my master's in psychology. Not yet qualified
to hang up my shingle," he reported.

"Wait, how old are you?"

"Twenty-five. How old are you?"

"You know how old I am!"

Giggling, Nick responded, "Yeah, I got to review all
of your files, before you showed up. Wait, did you
just turn nineteen or ready to be twenty?"

"I turned nineteen on June 17 and you're too young to
be my father. Hey, who's this? A boyfriend?"

"Is that why you came here, to buzz me on my private
life?"

"Sorry," Dougie replied, putting down the photo.

"A former lover. One that I cared about a lot."

"Good looking man. What is doing while you're away?"

Nick was sure he mentioned his lover, in the past
tense. No matter, he cleared up the situation.

"He passed away two years ago of AIDS."

"Hey look, I'm real sorry Nick."

For the first time in a day, he thought he sensed a
change in Dougie. He figured if he could get over one
hill at a time with the youth, that after seven weeks
he could conquer a whole mountain of thought. He
wasn't sure why he cared so much. Perhaps seeing
Dougie reminded him of himself, the father that
wouldn't accept him as he was, the father that drove
him out of his life. Life was too short for hate
games.

"So, you going to come out and whip my butt, Nick? Let
the guys off the hook?"

"I would except."

"Where's my demerits slip?"

"Geez, I could have sworn it was right here. Dammit!
Where is that pad?"

"It doesn't matter. I remember clearly what my
sentence is; two demerits from this morning and..."
hanging back for a moment, he wondered if Nick would
swallow the next one, "fifty for later on."

"Fifty. Yeah sure. I've never given out that amount.
Besides, it's the rule that a punishment can't be
carried out, without proof."

"Um, check your pockets, Nick?"

Slapping his chest, abs and thighs, drew up nothing
from the pocket frisking.

"No, put your hands `inside' your pockets, Nick."

"I just checked. The demerit pad isn't there."

"How do you know unless you really check?"

Nick gave Dougie `the look'.

Dougie mistook `the look' for something more.

After a minute of eye exchange, the too thought of it
as `something else'. Dougie at six feet tall, Nick
five-eleven, they almost matched up in height. The
nineteen year old jock came with touching noses with
Nick. A centimeter within touching lips.

"Somehow I don't picture you as the romantic type."
Nick told him.

"Who says I'm out for that?"

With that, Dougie dug into both of Nick's pants
pockets. Nick's hands went to his pockets, holding the
inserted hands, captive.

"Really, Douglass! If you want to feel up my cock and
balls, I can make it easier for you."

"Then do it."

Dougie got `the look' again. Nick let go of his
imprisoned hands. While there, he did get a jolt which
caused his shaft to react. He did feel something of
paper consistency in Nick's pocket, but didn't press
the issue.

"Nick?"

"What?"

"I know this might sound really strange, maybe even
totally against the rules, but I'm gonna go for it
anyway."

"No, you can't have your own demerit pad!"

"That's not what I was driving at. Can you get
serious?"

Raising his eyebrows, Nick could see that Dougie did
just that. Taking his imaginary key, Nick locked up
his smiley mouth, locked away all hilarity and tossed
the key over his shoulder.

"Okay, shoot. What's the big question?"

"How can you talk when you just locked your mouth up
and threw the key away?"

"Strange question, alright. I'm a magician."

"Nooooo that wasn't the question." Dougie went for
broke, blurting out, "Can I kiss you?"

Nick then, as if his mouth had been sealed with Krazy
Glue, moved it around, unable to answer.

At first, Dougie smiled, but then not waiting for any
permission, moved forwards. His hand went behind
Nick's head, taking his mane of soft, black hair in
his hand and forced their lips together.

As they broke, Nick only quipped, "Ten demerits!"

"Really?"

"Not if you do it again?"

This time Nick returned the affection, cupping the
nineteen year olds head in his hands, then drawing his
chest, stomach and pubes to his, pressing in with a
strong bond of affection. Their lips broke apart, bods
remaining as one.

"Damn, if I don't watch it, you'll be knocking at my
backdoor!" Nick joked.

"Let's see how I can impress you in seven weeks."

"I'm not looking for high class impressions, Dougie.
I'm looking for you to be you. Maybe a new you, but
something that resembles a happy camper."

"Oh, you've already made me a happy camper."

Nick isn't new to the camp counselor circuit. He's
seen the same thing happen in the past six or so
years. This one instance, he wished it was more than
infatuation with a first year college jock.

"All kidding aside, Nick. You better give me some kind
of whipping. Um, by the way, I felt something in your
pocket."

"Only one thing?"

"Yeah okay. You do have a nice cock and I think you're
kind of set in the golf department, but what I'm
talking about is something square, flat and pink?"

"Balls when they're empty?"

"Funny, Nick."

Nick leveled with Dougie, taking the demerits pad out
of his pocket.

"Oh! Look what I found! Imagine that. It was there all
the time!"

"Yeah, sure. Safe keeping right there next to your
golf balls and iron!"

"Okay, this is how it's going to go. Go back and tell
the boys that we're taking a little safari over to the
Coyote Lodge."

"Coyote Lodge? You're gonna whip me in front of them?"

Taking the pink pad, Nick goes in the counselor's
private jon. Seconds later, Dougie hears the toliet
flush. Nick comes out.

"Had to piss pretty bad, huh?"

"Oh shit! Now what did I do with that demerits pad?"

"I think you had it when you went in the jon."

Not trusting Nick, Dougie followed the twenty-five
year old in there.

"Not here," Nick called out, only to find himself on
top of Dougie, when doing an `about face'.

"I came to check up on you. Make sure you didn't
overlook any clue as to where the demerits pad is?"

In the closed quarters, the jon made up of a toliet
stall, two urinals and a sink, presented a mighty
limited amount of spacing. When Nick turned around, he
couldn't help but press his chest up against Dougie's.
Taking advantage of the moment, Dougie again pressed
his bod into Nick's.

First, the teen jock's hand was on the outside, closer
than before, feeling up Nick's now thoroughly hardened
erection. Hands on the outside of the zipper, their
lips played merrily.

"I want you, Nick," Dougie said, staring into the
Greek's deep blue eyes, like pools of the Agean.

"I know."

Dougie's hands began unbuckling Nick's belt. However,
a pair stopped it from happening.

"We can't, Dougie."

Smiling, Dougie let his hands drop.

"I know. Hell with the pad. I'll take whatever you
remember."

"Two."

Before exiting the counselor's jon, Nick stole one
more kiss.

%

"But what are the guys going to say?"

"Who cares what the fuck they think. The most
important thing right now is us."

"Us? What are you crazy, um..."

"Call me boy."

"Call you boy? But you're my counselor.. my `sir'!"

Suddenly Bud noticed that Dav Khan began acting very
strangely.

"Each time I picked up the strap to whip the boys, I
watched your crotch bulge. You liked watching them
suffer, didn't you Bud?"

"You saw that?" Bud replied, as if there was something
wrong with it.

"Yeah. Like me, you get off watching a guy squirm in
pain, get off listening to him scream out. Don't deny
it. I know I'm right, Bud."

Shrugging his shoulders, Bud admitted, "Okay. You got
me. Hell yeah, I think it's cool."

"Perfect."

"For what?"

"C'mon. Grab your shirt."

Bud did what he was told. As he finished buttoning it,
tucking it in, rebuckling his belt, Dav came from his
personal quarters. Over his shoulders, he toted a
duffle bag.

"C'mon."

"Where are we going...`boy'?" Bud used the word to
address Dav Khan even though it sounded like a foreign
language to him.

"On a hike."

"But what about the other guys?"

"I left a note, telling them I took you to the
administration office, leaving Reinken in charge."

"What for?"

"You'll see."

They hiked west for about forty minutes.

"Whew! My feet hurt."

"It's only a little further."

"What is?"

"Something I found exploring."

Following the twenty-eight year old Pakistani, Bud
started to get worried. For sure he wouldn't be able
to tell his way back, on the return trip, if he had to
escape Dav Khan's clutches.

"Here we are."

"What's this place?"

"An old cabin not utilized anymore. C'mon inside. It's
safe."

Bud followed him inside. Unlike the outside, a bit
dilapidated, the inside was nice and clean. However,
it didn't resemble the Turtle Lodge.

"I've done some remodeling. How do you like it?"

"Looks like a prison!"

Bud looked through the hardwood bars that resembled
prison bars.

"What's this for?"

Turning around, Bud got the surprise of his life.

"Me?"

Dav Khan stood there, stripped to the buff. Totally
hairy, from head to toes, Bud's eyeballs almost popped
out, at the sight of a huge cock, hanging over the
hairy set of enormous jewels.

"Wow!"

"Think you'd get a kick out of playing with them?"

"What? Me? Play with your balls?"

"Yeah and anyplace else on my body that would turn you
on, Bud.. I mean, `Sir."

"Wait. What's this about? You're freakin' me out
here."

"When we're alone like this, you can call me boy and..
and I'll call you `Sir'. What do you think?"

"Like I said. You're freakin' me out!"

"Yeah, okay."

To Bud, Dav wasn't the mean ogre he used to be, an
hour ago.

"C'mon Bud. Sit down. I'll explain it to you."

The twenty-eight year old Pakistani went on to explain
how he was abused as a kid by soldiers, part of the
regiment his father had been attached to. Not only
that, he watched as other men suffered worse fate than
himself. In his teenaged years, it became `torture or
be tortured', so he took up the reins of a sadist, in
the Turkish secret police. He relayed that he learned
to take pleasure in torturing young men in their late
teens, to mid forties.

"Sad life," Bud reacted with, "having to do something
you don't want to do."

"Yes, but a few years ago, when I came here to
America, I met a man. He convinced me that maybe `I'
needed to suffer like I made others to suffer."

"And?" Bud followed with interest, his cock still not
totally sedentary.

"I reversed roles. Became the bottom to this man who
assumed the role I had."

"Don't tell me. You liked it?"

For the first time, Bud saw the counselor smile, not
from causing a man pain. It was real, geniune,
authentic.

"Is that why you brought me here?"

"I need this, Bud. When I saw how you reacted, I knew
it had to be you."

Bud caught on real quick, asking, "What about
Michaelis? How come he can't come here and torture
you?"

"Because... Bud, I was twenty-one when I was tortured
by the man I told you about. No, not really a man, a
man two years younger than me."

"He was nineteen?"

"Yes."

"Sounded like an older man. One that had it all
together."

"He was very mature for his age. He took me someplace
where I needed to be. I'm asking you. Pleading with
you to please do this for me."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Take total control over me."

"Torture you?"

"Yes, with no limits. You can give me as much pain as
you wish."

"I don't know what to do with you... Dav? Is that what
I call you?"

"You can call me Dav and I'll help you along."

"Let me get this straight. You're going to help me
torture `you'?"

"Until you feel comfortable doing it on your own."

"What about being here at camp?"

"We can come here as little or frequent as we wish."

"I'm not saying the idea doesn't excite me."

"It might be the only chance you have to be with a man
like me, if you want to think of it that way. Tell me
that torturing a man wouldn't turn you on?"

"Well yeah sure."

"What, Bud? Let me hear it in your own words."

Looking into the Pakistani's black eyes, Bud was drawn
into the wanting notion. He wasn't sure about all of
this, but for the lack of what this camp had to offer,
thought of it as a hot trip.

With a little quirky smile, he replied, "Where do we
start?"

"Yes!" Dav replied, making two fists and celebrating
as if he won `The Price Is Right'!

"But we have to be careful. I don't want to wind up in
the electric chair for murdering you... Dav."

"I swear it. First, you tie me eagle-spread over
there, between the columns."

"Yeah. Okay."

Bud still wasn't sure, but seeing Dav, from the waist
down was enough incentive. He immediately thought of
how hot it would be to hold those big, hairy balls in
his hand. He wasn't even sure if he could hold both in
one hand, at once.

Dav Khan, not a bit on edge about having Bud tying his
arms outwards and up, from his bare body, did notice
one improvement needed forthright.

"What you laughing at, boy?" Bud leaned in to Dav's
heavily stubbled face, as he fastened the opposite
rope to his left wrist.

"Not at you. I can see that you will be needing some
tutoring on rope tying expertise."

Bud didn't say anything more about that, nor anything
when he knelt down, to fasten the rope, extended from
the bottom of the post, to his left ankle. Trying to
keep his mind on what he was doing, Bud couldn't help
but stare at the large sacs, covered with black hair,
nor the large appendage that now stood out, angled
down, almost resting on the enormous sacs. When he
went to tie off Dav's right ankle, binding the rope
around it twice, he picked up on the clear bead of
liquid, forming at the end of the 11c.

"There! I think I did a decent job!"

Dav pulled on his arms. All of Bud's hard work came
unraveled, making the counselor pull his wrists free
and in front of him.

Instead of showing frustration, Bud got tough,
barking, "You'll pay for that, boy!"

Weirder yet, Dav replied, "Ooooooh, thank you... sir."

"Huh?" Bud answered.

Something in Dav's eyes struck a chord, a fiber of
melancholy within Bud. The toughguy in him began to
regress. Moving forward, he took Dav by the wrists.
Placing them to the sides, eagle-stretching them out,
he brought his own chest forwards. Soon he stood
their, looking at Dav, straightforward.

"What are you doing, Bud?"

As if in a trance, Bud replied, "I... I don't know."

Nothing could explain things, at the present. All Bud
could think of is more than playing with Dav's bod.
Not one for romantics, never having a romantic moment
in his whole life, didn't hold the nineteen year old
back from touching Dav's lips with his own. Taking on
the sweaty mideastern man, the teen jock closed his
eyes. Slightly turning his head, he avoided a
collision of noses. Letting go of Dav's right wrist
with his left hand, Bud replaced it behind the
perspiring neck, drawing the twenty-eight year old
counselor's lips in deeper.

Things weren't progressing the way in which Dav Khan
had pictured they would go. If he got as far, which he
did, convincing Bud of the arrangement, he would have
been a happy camper. He could have pushed Bud away,
even though the college jock had done a greater job of
anchoring his outstretched legs to the cabin posts.
However, with the standing straight camper pressing
his bulging pants up against his bare pubes, plus the
coupling of their lips, he began to discover the lost
art of having a man to love and be loved back. Feeling
it right, Dav Khan positioned his hands behind Bud's
back and drew him into his fold.

More passion was sought, initiated by Bud, still
clinging to both Dav's lips and hands working the back
of his head, plus bare shoulder blades. By this time,
Dav's hands had worked themselves down Bud's Timber
Creek uniformed shirt and fought between their
pressing bodies, to do some unbuttoning.

"Hold it!" Bud abruptly broke off the erotic moment.

"Huh?" the Pakistani questioned, especially since
things seemed to be heating up, like a furnace.

His arms at his sides, ropes hanging from his wrists,
Dav looked down, watching Bud untie the ropes from the
opposite posts.

"Dammit! I sure do need to learn how to tie better
knots!"

Dav smiled, watching Bud untie his own knotted ropes,
with great difficulty. Suddenly Bud remembered
something. Drawing the bowie knife out of Dav's
gearbag, he slashed through the ropes, at the posts,
freeing up the movement of Dav's legs.

Having already unbuttoned Bud's shirt, all he had to
do is pull it from his pants, unbutton one more and
then take it off over his blades. He didn't care where
it wound up. Retracing his steps, he found his way
back to Dav's lips.

Before commencing where he left off, Dav says,
lightheartedly, "This is `some' torture!"

"Shut up and kiss me, `boy'!"

Even though being the male with the mass of body hair,
when Dav repressed his chest against Bud's sparsely
haired front, he could feel something awesome. Being
fit himself, Dav could manipulate his own body, into a
position where there muscled abs interlocked, as if
pieces of a puzzle fitting together perfectly.

Having felt up Dav's head, Bud's hands began a
different trek of exploration. Both hands moved from
shoulder blades, downwards. Ceasing with the lip
action, Bud still held Dav in his arms, his nostrils
taking in the sweaty scent, as if an afrodisiac,
propelling the eroticity of the moment. One hand kept
their chests bound, the other exploring lower. Finding
a plump ass, became the signal that Bud had to begin
to dismantle his pants.

As if osmosis, Dav already read Bud's mind. His two
hands, still with the ropes hanging from his wrists,
began to fidgit with Bud's belt buckle. With Dav
seeing to his needs, Bud slowly backed up, dragging
the depantsing closer to the lone cot in the room.
With his zipper opened, his pants parted, both could
see the bulge speaking for each of their needs.

"On the bed, boy!"

At first Dav wondered `face up' or `faced down'. Bud
dropping his pants, made up his mind real quick,
seeing the stem of the nineteen year olds cock
protruding above the lowrise briefs. At first he
knelt. Bud couldn't control himself. With his palm
outstretched he took a mighty swing.

Caught off guard, Dav shouted, when the pant cracked
against his ass, "Ughhhhhhhhh... ooooooh yeah!"

"I agree," Bud smiled, taking in the same delight of
smacking Dav's ass, as much as he enjoyed having the
erotic task delivered.

Within the last half hour, Bud could see what Dav
needed, lusted after. He decided to fulfill a hidden
feeling within his own soul. As much as he could see
Dav needing to be abused, he let out his own repressed
feelings.

"You've been a really bad man, Dav and now is the time
to pay up!"

No struggled ensued, as Bud fidgited with the rope
attached to Dav's left wrist, tying it to the iron
railing at the top of the cot. He followed through,
with the right wrist. He didn't both with Dav's
ankles, well-knowing that he wasn't sure how far apart
he would have to stretch the twenty-eight year olds
legs, to get his 10c shoved up, into the cavity of his
body.

Before settling in for what Bud deemed would be a long
afternoon, he went rummaging through Dav's gearbag. He
returned with a set of nipclamps, attached to a chain,
a ball parachute and a leather strap, more rough and
fiercer looking than Dav used on himself. With brute
strength or it could have been the adrenaline flowing
like lava down the side of a volcano, heating up the
moment, Bud lifting Dav's side up. Not caring how much
pec-hair got caught up in the clamp, he clipped it
over Dav's left nip.

"Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!" Dav screamed out.

Only the second time in his life of having his nips
tortured, his muscles contorted, giving Bud a `ride',
as he tried arching his back.

"Cool!" Bud replied to the pain that coursed through
Dav's bod.

He had to grab under Dav's stomach, to find the other
nipclamp, attached to the chain, before clasping it in
place, with the same results. Getting up from
wrestling with the Pakistani's body, the nineteen year
old watched two awesome things happening. Looking as
if Dav was bellydancing against the bed, Bud could
tell the hairy counselor rubbed both clamped nips and
cock against the cot, trying to achieve a more
painful, yet erotic feeling.

Like himself, Bud could sense that Dav had inner
emotions that needed release. Pushing all of Dav's
`right' buttons, he himself sensed the compulsions
that bring them both to their wants, needs, desires
and the eventual fruition of their inner santums of
complete ecstasy.

The throbbing of his cock, the need to work it inside
Dav, caused Bud to dispense with the ball parachute.
`Anoth time', Bud thought. Then he thought something
else; how much he was enjoying this. Controlling a man
older than himself. Controlling a man that had it all;
muscles, good looks, a hairy body, which turned him
on, beyond belief, but also the anatomy between his
legs!

To get Dav's attention, Bud lifted the doubled belt
high in the air. Without warning, he cracked it over
both asscheeks. Hearing Dav scream out like a wolf,
drove him into a frenzy. As his dad had done, when a
youngster, Bud literally lashed out, covering the
twenty-eight year olds hairy ass with red welts.

Even when Dav screamed out, mixing his plea with the
hollaring,  "No more, please... no more, sir," Bud
kept at it.

Puffing his breath in and out, sweating, the patch of
hair, midchest, soaked, as well as the trail strip
down his stomach, his pits, his head of hair, his
pubes soaked with perspiration, Bud found his hand
glued to his aching, hard ten inch shaft. It was now
or never. Looking down at Dav's bright red ass, he
placed his left hand on the left mound. His right hand
pushed them apart, revealing the dark hole. Without
further ado, Bud shuffled his knees forwards, pressing
Dav's legs farther apart. Below Dav's ass crevice, the
two full balls rested. One last evil thought had Bud
resting his right knee on the two orbs.

Even though Dav's arms had been tightly tied to the
head-bar of the bed, the pain that coursed through his
body took up the last bit of slack as he arched his
back, crying out in immense pain.

The transition a split second apart, Bud pushed his
hard shaft up to Dav's asshole.

"No condom?" Dav cautioned.

Bud thought about it. Before this there wasn't any man
in his life that moved him so, as Dav Khan had. He
made up his mind then and there.

"Got news for ya... There's only gonna be one man
using this ass from now on, boy!"

Without giving Dav a chance to go over his options,
the nineteen year old lurched forward, forcing his ten
inch barrel into the twenty-eight year olds ass
chamber.

Worse than the clamps, biting into Dav's nipmeat, the
lash of the doubled leather strap on his ass, nor
Bud's knee to his balls, feeling his ass chute
splitting open drove Dav to madness.

The sweat flew, as Bud grasped Dav's shoulders. As if
harnessing a wild steed, Bud dug into Dav's ass
crevice with a fury, enjoying his spincter scrape
along the sides of his barrel.

Fleeting along, the first four minutes had been the
worst for Dav, as Bud penetrated his camp counselor's
ass chambers. The bed soaked and smelling of manscent,
the two wet-bodied males sunk into a more pleasured
moment, free from the wild fucking action. Both
breathed heavily, as Bud's chest lay on Dav's back,
still embedded in the counselor's guts, rowing up and
down, loving the tender massage.

%

08 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