Date: Thu, 4 May 2006 11:19:09 -0700 (PDT)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: Liv Lap Lux 03

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?'

"Living In The Lap Of Luxury" 03
The continuing epic fantasy of the `Buffalo Boys'
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"Where did your friends go?"

Dario was the first to admit to Reinken, "Uh, they
wanted to go get more acquainted, if you know what I
mean?"

"In other words, see which can talk the other into
getting fucked?"

"I guess, since both are tops."

Moving the subject away from their boyfriends and into
their own ballpark, Zek asks Reinken, "When you think
we can play?"

First sitting, then adjusting himself, Reinken lay
down on the same lounge chair, placing his hands
behind his head, flaunting his thick, blond pits,
smooth chest and stomach, the darker treasure trail
that led to his rather plump cock, reflective of the
two studs before him, wanting to play his game.

"No time like the present, but I want you boys to know
what you're getting into."

"Well," Dario starts out, looking to Scott, readying
to do another cannonball into the pool, "are you going
to make us wear clamps on our nips?"

"First of all, we play in private. Secondly, I will
not do anything that you don't okay first. Third, we
use safewords all the time."

"Safe words? What are safe words?"

Zek adds, "There are unsafe words?"

Reinken laughed at their stupidity.

"First, let me ask you boys something," Reiken
questions the two, "are you into the bondage and
discipline, or does it also interest you to take some
pain?"

He's hoping they go for the whole works!

"I would like to try pain," Zek admits.

Dario gestures going along with his friend.

Going on to explain the meaning of shouting out
`green', `yellow' and `red', the safewords, Reinken
also tells them of the intensity of pain.

"I have no idea how much I can take," Dario tells him.

Zek agrees.

"Being that you two are new to this, I wouldn't give
you the amount that I would, say, give Scott here."

So intent on Reinken's instruction, they hadn't
noticed Scott standing in their midsts.

"The clips," Zek asks, staring at Scott's pecs, the
clamps tightly secured to each nip, "they hurt?"

Scott returned his answer, "Not too much. In fact,
whenever they wiggle around, it feels kind of nice. At
least that's what my cock thinks!"

Dario and Zek glanced from chest to pubes and back.

"Come here, boy."

"Yes, sir," Scott replied, walking over to the side of
Reinken's chair.

Reaching up, with both hands, he goes for the clamps.
Squeezing, he removes them from Scott's nips.

"Aiiiiiiiiieeeeoooooooooh!"

"Did I tell you that you can touch them, boy?"

"No, sir."

"Then get your fuckin' hands off your nips!"

"Yes, sir."

Scott let his arms drop at his sides. He shuffled back
and forth between feet, hoping the sore, tingling
feeling, in his chest would hurry and go away.

"I... I don't think I could take that," Dario told
Reinken.

"Not me, neither," Zek seconded it.

"Oh, I wouldn't be using the full force of these. See
this screw?"

Both look over to the tiny screw Reinken toys with.

"Yeah," Dario answers for both of them.

Zoom in on the tiny screw, Reinken turns, they watch
as the metal jaws of the clip draw farther apart,
creating a gap.

"Plus," Reinken adds, "for beginners I place these,"
out of nowhere, he produces a small rubber tube, "over
the sharp teeth, to lessen the pain."

Trying to equate the sharpness of the alligator clip,
to the effect it caused, Zek turns his head sideways
to Scott's chest, eyeing up his nips, unclampped.

"I do not believe you have screw almost taken out
and... look, Dario, no blood draw out from skin."

Zek's finger wavers a centimeter or two from the
Asian's perky red nip, swollen and protruding out of
the mass of black chest hair.

Daring him, Reinken says, "Go ahead. Touch it if you
wish."

At the same time, they see some type of eye-language
happening between Scott and his sir.

"That'll kill him, wouldn't it?" Dario inquires.

"What do you say?" Reinken directs to Scott.

Even though Scott would prefer they leave his tender
nips alone, he knows that from past knowledge, when
Reinken poses a question in this manner, the answer
better be `yes'!

"No problem," Scott tells them. "Touch my nips all you
want."

"Damn!" Dario says, "If that were my nips, all red and
swollen like that, it'd hurt like hell."

No different from Scott, but trying to be brave, he
wants to please Reinken, the man who means the total
world to him. In fact, in Scott's eyes, to say
anything negative, would present a feeling of
embarrassment. So, he braces for what he knows will be
coming. Squinting his eyes, he drops his head back, as
he gets a double whammy. Dario has taken on his right
nip, while Zek gentle rubs his left nip between his
finger and thumb. Immediately, when Scott reacts, they
stop.

"Hurt bad?" Zek asks.

Reinken jumps in with, "Oh no. He's loving the
feeling, aren't you boy?"

Trying to come back to reality, Scott lies, "It... it
feels," he swallows, "awesome!"

Just what Reinken wanted to hear!

"Are you sure?" Zek asks, unbelieving.

"Of course he's sure," Reinken reinforces Scotts
decision. "Show them what you can really take,
Scotto!"

Dario mouths, `Scotto', upon first hearing of the
nickname. However, what becomes a more pressing issue,
is staring at Scott's pecs, looking at the eighteen
year old Asian take his own irritated nips in his
fingers and thumbs and mercilessly torment them.

"Whooooa, that's so awesome! Can I try that?"

Four heads pinpoint the stranger among them, Frank
Kelly, standing there, gazing at Scott tweaking his
own nips. A smile begins to grace Reinken's face, as
he realizes what might be the scope of Frank's
interest. Scott's taunting of his pecs becomes second
interest now, his cock realizing a new pleasure to be
zoned in on.

In an instant, the twenty-six year old master is up
out of his comfy lounge chair, his cock bobbing up and
down, ready to make conversation with the newcomer to
their circle.

"That's enough," the master tells his slaveboy. Then,
turning to Frank, he tells him. "Go ahead. Play all
you want."

"Cool!" Frank says, as Reinken paves the way to his
boytoy.

Zek and Dario, now veterans to the nip-twisting
action, cheer Scott on.

"Yeah.. take it, Scotto!" Dario cheers.

Reinken adds, "Oh, he can take it much harder than
that, can't you boy?"

"Yes...sir," Scott says with shy apprehension, but
nevertheless, wanting to please.

With interaction among the four of the younger set,
Reinken uses the opportunity to skim over Frank's buff
bod. Making like his cock is reacting to the torturous
nip action, softly stroking his 12.5c, his eyes are
really peering down over the five foot, ten inch
stud's shoulder. As a bottom boy would do, looking at
a delicious cock and set of balls, Reinken's
salivation is due to wanting to run his hands over the
Irish lad's near smooth chest and stomach, run his
index finger down the tight blond trail and feel the
interiors of the deep navel and make some meaningful
play below the hot bellyhole trail.

"Like playing with my boy?"

"Hell yeah! Makes me jealous."

Reinken knows all too well Frank's desires. Falling
into the realm of Timber Creek misfits, the Turtle
Lodge, he's had a feeling all summer that Frank Kelly
wanted this.

"I guess I was right about you."

"Huh? How does that go?" Frank asks, but already knows
Reinken is on to him.

Turning his attention to the matter of his found out
secret, Frank discontinues ravaging Scott's pecs. Zek
and Dario follow the conversation, as it unfolds.

"I saw how you got hard everytime you played with your
cabin-mate. If I allowed it, you would have played
with Josh more so?"

"You knew about that?"

"I think the saying is, `it takes one to know one'?"

Dario butts in, "Yeah, that's it!"

Already getting into the D/s mode, Reinken turns to
Dario and says gruffly, "Did I tell you to speak boy?"

Unlike Scott, Dario replies, "Oops!" first piacing his
hand over his mouth, then cheerfully saying, "sorry
about that."

Zek giggles.

Reinken asks Frank, "Are you with anybody? Josh?"

"Not really. Josh wants to hang with the two
hitchhikers the bus driver picked up. I thought at
first they could be interested in some BDSM, but I
think they're more into sex."

"Nothing wrong with integrating sex into our
activities. These two new `boys' have my balls
churning. How would you like to have some fun right
now?"

"Cool!" The eighteen year old shouted out with
excitement.

Still gazing over Frank's shoulder, Reinken could
detect Frank took more than an interest in having some
fun.

"One thing."

"Sure. You're the boss."

"I get to fuck `anybody' I choose."

Now Frank wasn't so sure about going off and playing
with Reinken. After all, he wasn't about to give up
his virgin status.

Spinning around, Frank puts his hand on the German's
shoulder, replying, "Tell you what, Reinken..." Frank
waited to see if he minded him calling him by his
name. At camp, the Turtle Lodge boys had been required
to address him as `sir'.

"I'm listening."

"I think the same rule should go for me. What do you
say?"

"Hmm... I might just amend the rules this once. Let's
go."

Reinken and Frank lead the way for the other three,
heading across the expanse of the indoor pool grounds,
headed for the sleeping quarters, a separate area of
the modern mansion.

%

"By the way, I want to thank you for bringing me out
to dinner with you."

"I think Nick can agree that we like having you
around, Dil. Don't we Nick?"

"Yep."

"Nick, what did I just say?"

"Um, what did you say, Douglass?"

"Yeah. I want to find out how far back you have been
following this conversation before you decided to let
the guys at the table behind us, draw your attention
away!"

Nick couldn't contest the fact that the three guys,
directly across from them, facing Dougie's back, had
stirred up his gaydar.

Sitting up alert, Nick replied, "You just asked,
um..." dropping his fork into his lasagna, flustered,
he says, "I dunno. What did you say?"

"I hope they're cute enough!"

However, by the time Nick and Dougie finish up their
little innocent quarrel, it's Dil they find glancing
over, across the way.

Not looking at his dinner guests, Dil says,
"Especially since I don't have any money on me, it's
nice of you."

Like conducting an orchestra, but with his fork, Nick
asks, "What's he talking about?"

"Seems like everybody has seen the candy, except me!

The three fellows opposite Dougie's rear hadn't taken
notice, until he turns to face them.

"Oh...hi," Dougie says, feeling like a total idiot. He
relays to Dil and Nick, "Now wasn't that fucking
embarrassing?"

Nick, giggling, tells him, "Um, by the color of face,
I'd say `yes'!"

Dougie rolls his eyes.

"However, the cute guy on the other side of the table
is like making goo-goo eyes at Dil."

Dougie rolls his eyes again and tells Dil, "Did you
have to wave to him?"

"He's kind of cute. Besides I think he's gay."

"Of course he's gay," Nick responds. "Why would a guy
be making a total fool out of himself, in front of his
friends, over another guy, if he wasn't gay?"

Dougie takes a quickie glance over his shoulder.

"Hmm... I wonder about the other two studs?"

"Yeah," Nick says, "the blond with the stache is kind
of on the hot side."

"He is cute, but I thought the other blonde..."

"Not my blond!" Dil gets defensive.

"Hee heee.."

"What's so funny, Nick?"

"Nothing. I just think it's a coincidence how they are
all blonds."

"Why?" Dougie asks, "You don't think they are related,
do you?"

"Come to think of it, the two on the left could be
partners, but definitely the one flirting with
Dildoboi here, is a loner."

"Isn't he adorable."

"Why don't you go over and introduce yourself," Dougie
prods Dil.

"Oh no. I couldn't do that. What happens if the other
two guys don't like me doing that?"

Turning to Nick, Dougie impresses, "Nick, go over
there and tell the guy Dil wants to meet him."

"Wha... are you crazy? I'm not breaking up their
little luncheon to.. the nerve!"

"Please?"

This time, it's not only Dougie doing the begging,
with those cute, persuasive eyes. As if two against
one, Dil puts on that grin that turns his kisser into
a `begging machine'.

Slowly, Nick pushes away from the table, throwing his
napkin down. Walking away, he grumbles. Two minutes
later, after Nick talked to them, the two on the left
stand from their seats. The stached blond pulls the
table a little to the side. No one is more surprised
than Nick, as Dil's guy manuevers himself around the
table edge, without even standing up.

"Oh wow. He's in a wheelchair," Dil says.

"Why? Does that bother you, Dil?"

"I don't know."

"Well you better not let him know that, after all the
fuss you two made over each other."

"Maybe he's not gay."

"Or maybe you don't want him to be gay, now?"

Before Dil could answer, Nick had returned, the three
blondes in tow.

Nick introduces, "Gentlemen, this is my partner,
Douglass Hazard and our friend, Dil."

"Hi," is all Dil said, which put a damper on meeting
the guy in the handicapped chair.

Like butter in a frying pan, all the cheer melted from
the guy.

"Um... hi..."

Dougie hoped that Dil would dummy-up fast!

"Well, um, this is Steve and Matthew."

One answers, "Steve Kestner and my partner, Matthew
Diggles."

"Oh, where's my manners?" Dougie questioned himself,
rising up and taking each of their hands. Then,
slighly bending, asks, "And you are?"

But Nick beats him to it, saying, "This is Peter
Newman."

The one called Matthew, remarks, "I thought I
recognized Nick from the Culinary Arts Forum
magazine."

"Really?" Dougie questioned. "I didn't even know he
was featured."

Thinking about it, Dougie hadn't even known a
`Culinary Arts Forum' magazine existed.

"Yes," Nick informed, "Four months ago. My father
opened an exhibit in Milan and we happened to be
dining at the Cafe La Trieannle, coinciding with their
article on the design of the furnishings, not to
mention the wonderful food."

Suddenly, Dougie shined along with the celebrity
status that glowed, in relationship to Nick's
personality, on display at the moment.

"Do you live around here?" Dil asked Peter, as the
other guys went about their chatting it up.

"No way. I mean, it's a charming town and it does have
it's esthetic qualities, however I much prefer the
city."

"You mentioned the esthetic qualities, Peter?"

"Well yeah. Before the accident... the reason I'm
pinned down to this chair, I used to throw some decent
pottery."

"How did... that happen, if you don't mind saying?"

"Let me grab my glass of wine and I'll tell you. Oh,
you don't mind if I sit here with you, do you?"

"Not at all," Dil replied.

Looking at Peter do a u-turn, grab his glass of wine
and return, he stood amazed.

"I could have reached that for you."

"Thanks, but I learned a long time ago, well not that
long ago, that I had to more or less fend for myself."

In less than four minutes, a table exchange had taken
place. Peter sat with Dil. Nick, Dougie, Steve and
Matthew made themselves comfortable across the way.
They also did the proper thing, exchanging dinners.

"Thanks, Steve," Peter told his friend.

"You're welcome, babe. Anything you want, just give a
yell over. Um, you too, young man," Steve also keyed
Dil into, "on me!"

Dil thanked him.

"So, how did you..."

"Wait! Can we have a toast?" Peter more insisted,
raising his glass of red wine.

"Okay," Dil accepted, smiling, as he allowed Peter to
pour some more in.

"To us," Peter said plain and simply.

"To us," Dil seconded it.

Taking a hefty swig, the two gulped down their first
round.

"I liked your toast, Peter."

Peter found Dil's hand on the table.

"I meant it."

"You're moving kind of fast, aren't you, Peter?"

"Maybe. But... okay. Look, I'm sorry."

Quenching the vitality out of Peter, it told Dill that
Peter could be sensitive.

"Don't be. Um, you can move fast, if you want. I
mean..."

"No, it's okay, Dil. You see, ever since the accident,
I've had this tendency to jump the gun with every
cu... cute guy I meet and... well, you can guess the
rest."

"Have you," Dil sensed a touchy subject here, but went
ahead anyway with his questioning, "um... like made it
with any guys, since... you know?"

"Hey, the legs might be paralyzed, but the plumbing
still works perfectly!"

That put their dinner back on the jovial stage. For
the second time, Steve came back to their table.

"Everything okay here guys? Having a good time?"

"We're doing okay Steve. Thanks."

"Okay, but if you need anything, just holler, babe."

"Steve seems like a nice guy."

"Yeah, he is. The best. So is Matthew. Hell, if it
wasn't for those two guys, I'd...I'd..."

Dil could see that Peter began sinking back into some
past memories.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

"I dunno. Do you really want to hear about it, Dil?"

"Yup, but not til after our next toast."

"To?"

"To us!"

After the clinked and drank, Peter began telling the
tale of that fateful night.

"It's bad enough I was drinking, but I should've known
better than to leave a frat party with a driver that
was far more drunk than myself. Now I'm paying for
it."

It was Dil's turn to touch Peter's hand. It was warm.

"Everybody makes mistakes, Peter. Some are small and
don't matter. Other's, well they could big mistakes,
but we have to drop it and get on with our lives."

"Yeah, okay. I know that. I went through tons of
therapy. Whenever I talk about it, I kind of fall
back. Know what I mean, Dil?"

"Sure. I've made my mistakes too. In fact, one really
big one and I'm thankful, well for Nick and Dougie,
that they helped me out of it. So, continue with your
story, Peter."

"Okay, so we left the party and I was drunk out of my
skull. Next thing I remember it this big crashing
sound, then rolling over. I didn't have my seatbelt on
and my head hit the ceiling of the car. Later on, I
was told we crashed through the guard rail and rolled
down an embankment. The cops told me that I was thrown
out of the car and my legs wrapped around a tree, the
wrong way."

Peter could tell the Dil didn't look upon what he said
as a pretty picture. It wasn't.

"I'm so sorry, Peter. What else did they say?"

"The police, not much. Except for this one, a rookie.
He told me I was cute."

"Really? Did you get his name?"

"He came to see me a few times in the hospital, but he
said he was already attached."

"What a shame," Dil told him.

"Not really. I mean, if I... no, that's dumb."

"What's dumb?"

"Yeah, I guess it could be real... do you believe in
fate, Dil?"

"I believe that what's going to happen, is going to
happen and there's nothing we can do to stop it. Sure,
we can do things to keep from getting into trouble,
but we can't stop the world from changing from night
into day and back again."

"I didn't expect all that, but you're right."

"So, what is it that you were about to say, Peter?"

Smiling, Peter replied, "Well, if Jason, that's the
cop's name, had kept on coming to see me, I might have
fallen for him."

"And what's wrong with that? I assume he's gay... oh
man."

"What, Dil?"

"Here, I'm assuming you're gay."

"You? There I was, sitting over there," Peter
exercises his thumb, directing it to where their four
friends sit, "and I could've been flirting with a
straight guy!"

"I can assure you that's not the case, Peter."

"Same here."

"Okay, now that we got that out of the way, what about
Jason?"

"He's gay. At the police station he's in the closet.
Was."

"What happened? He didn't get into trouble, did he?"

"No really."

Peter put on a grin like telling a joke.

"What happened?"

"He was in the closet, until the sarge made a play for
him in the shower one afternoon."

"Nooooo way! How did that go?"

"The way Jason put it, it seems that the sarge had
waited, nearly stalking him. Jason, under the shower
jet, felt a pair of hands on his torso."

"Awesome!"

"Yeah, except Jason said it scared the hell out of
him, at the time."

"And it was the sarge?"

"Oh yeah. You'll never believe what the sarge said to
him."

"I give up," Dil said, not even venturing a guess.

"He said to Jason, `don't turn around or I'll plug
your ass full of ammo!'"

Maybe the wine, but most likely the infectious way
Peter had of telling the story, but Dil began having
the best time of his life. Steve came over one more
time, to tell them the four would be stepping up to
the bar. He plunked a cellphone down on the table,
telling Peter to press `69', when he wanted to go.

Dougie came over to check up on Dil, asking, "Having a
good time?"

"Yes, I am, Dougie. Thanks."

"Cool."

Before Dougie left the table, he bent over and gave
Dil a kiss on the cheek, signifying how happy he was
for him. Dil wasn't so sure about all this, sitting
there with the twenty-three year old gay guy, in the
handicap chair.

%

"Can you see out of your blindfold, Zek?"

"No. I can't see anything but black. You, Dario?"

"Nope, but I sure can feel my balls."

"Same with me. Is this how bdsm goes?"

"I guess so. I mean, I don't think there's any rules,
other than the way Reiken makes them up as he goes
along."

"I like this torture!"

Dario didn't have to voice his opinion. His crotch was
telling him how good it felt to be lying on the bed,
arms stretched above him, spread out, to the bed
posts. Before the blindfold went on, he saw how
Reinken positioned Zek, a mirror image of himself,
except Zek's arms had been tied, stretched out, to the
bed posts at the foot of the bed. Both of their pairs
of legs, stretched wide, opened the passage for their
cocks and balls to meld together. To help them stay in
place, Reinken had first tied nooses around each of
their sets of orbs, then together, creating one mass
out the pairs of ball sacs. After massaging their
massive tools, into straight, stiff columns, he tied
them together, lacing them up from bases to heads.

"Ooooooh, don't do that!"

"Why, Zek? I thought it felt kind of... um, good?"

"Yes, but when you move, it make it feel too good!"

Even though it had been before noontime, Reinken bound
the two to the bed, trussed their cock and balls up,
together, blindfolded them and said, `Good night', to
return at his next convenience.

"Oh fuck is this torture!" Dario called out.

Even Zek kept badgering, "I want to cum so bad!"

"You're telling me... this is killing me."

"Don't move so much. Everytime you move, Dario, it
make my cock stroked."

Dario didn't have to be told that. The same occurrence
happened to him, with each little squirm.

%

To Be Continued....

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