Date: Tue, 9 Aug 2011 15:36:32 -0700 (PDT)
From: Tchase Mcphee <survivalgame@rocketmail.com>
Subject: CoMPany payLoaD 25

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.

%

CoMPany payLoaD 25
WriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"Isn't that sweet?"

"What is?" Hewy comments, switching his head around to the back seat of the
car.

"Our little runaway hiker-boy is catching up on sleep?"

From their conversation, when Eamon was wide awake, Hewy says, "It took a
lot of guts for him to run away."

"True, but given a choice of going on the run or living with homophobic
relatives, I'd say he took the right route," Nolan agrees.

"By the way, I meant to tell you," Hewy says, turned back around to the
windshield.

"What?"

"You should have dabbed yourself off with a paper towel before leaving the
club?"

Nolan couldn't agree more, but rather savored the stench from being the
cum-dump for the night. In response to Hewy's caring statement, he says as
a hand planes against his chest, soaking up the last remnants of the cum
shots disposed of onto his bod, "I'm going to keep this shirt out of the
wash and save it for posterity!"

A learned man, Hewy reacts, "Oh, are we saving things for when `Junior'
comes along?"

Smiling, Nolan replies, "I was wondering why I was craving chocolate and
pickles!"

"I only fucked you two or three times. How can you be sure I'm the daddy?"

Looking beyond the fuck-factor, Nolan says, "I bet you would make a good
daddy too!"

Relaxing in his seat, maybe not ready for a tiny child, Hewy says, "I think
Eamon could use some grounded, parental guidance?"

"If that's the case," Nolan exclaims, "then think of it... Eamon came on
his daddy's chest tonight!"

Out of it, after saying it, Nolan figured, as with himself, Hewy thinking
of Eamon as a very likable guy.

The same registering, Hewy amends, "Maybe brothers then?"

They both settled on brotherly, about the same moment Nolan makes a sharp
turn into the driveway. Before he can even engage the control to the gate,
the car is swarmed by uniformed men.

Nolan suggests, "I hope you have your green card with you?"

Hewy too watching the surrounding men out his window, "I'm an American
citizen!"

"Oh," Nolan replies, "you learn something new everyday. Do you think they
want me to unlock the doors?"

Looking official, some government seal patched on the sleeve of their
shirts, as well as their baseball caps, Hewy says, "I think it is why they
are pointing to the corner of the door, yes?"

In a snap, all four door pins were popping above the ledges of the doors.

Raising his head up from a slumber position, Eamon's yawn gave way to, "Who
are these dudes?" Putting two and two together, he says, "No! Don't let
them take me back!"

However, to Eamon's delight, the security force was not there on `his'
behalf. Asking Nolan to vacate the driver's seat, he was stuffed in the
back with Eamon, another officer on Eamon's right side.

"Somebody want to enlighten us?" Nolan demands with official disposition.

Instead of fear, Eamon smiled, with the crammed status of the back seat,
arm squashed so against the navy blue suit, it felt almost like feeling
flesh. He also noticed, even though the dude, who just now introduced
himself as Lt. Patrick Riley, seemed `young'. Licking his lips, thinking of
the prospect of what lay under the shirt, a preview of the chest fur in a
v-shape, Eamon pressed himself into silent, investigative service. As the
two converse, Eamon inconspicuously pushes his flat hand between thighs,
seeing if he can pick up any vibrations!

%

James coming down the stairway from the plane, his attention was focused on
finding only one face in the crowd.

Tom and Tony, bracing James on either side, could not contain him, when he
lay eyes on Laurent.

Rushing, ahead of security, James on the rebound, Laurent says to his
lover, "You're a sight for sore eyes!"

James replies, "I think my balls are sorer than your eyes!"


He was amazed by Laurent's unsurprising words, "I know."

"You know?" Tom asks.

Tony, understanding how thinks can work out, replies, "If I'm not mistaken,
Stefano wasn't the only one with visual contact to Hans and Jaco working
you over?"

Laurent, smiling, says, "I'm sorry you had to go through all this, my
love!"

James now cowered over Laurent's shoulder, show a bit of humor in the whole
ordeal, "Let me guess. You wished you were in my place?"

Whimsically, Laurent says, "When we get to the farm you can show me how it
all unfolded! My screen was a little blurred."

Tom says, with hidden emotion, "Your uncle is really sick, you know, Tony?"

"I know," Tony replies and with a grin, "maybe I can get in on the action!"

Not meant to taddle, not that it mattered or leaned this way any longer,
Laurent and Tony already keyed into Tom and James' boyhood `fun and games',
Tom says, "Did I ever tell you what I did to James' balls?"

%

Good fortune, Nolan not in the driver's seat, when Lt. Riley began to
explain the unfolding of his father's plan to bring down the Harrellsson
empire on US soil.

Listening to Patrick tell of his father's plans for him, Nolan, who held
respect or love for his father, rages on, speaking for every son who had a
father, "He would do this to his own son?"

Hewy, quiet for the most part, turns a head towards the back seat and says,
"I have no respect for the animal!"

Eamon was paying attention, and with no disrespect intended, still checked
out the lieutenant, noticing especially the fourth finger of his left
hand. It matched all the rest of his fingers, which made him smile. Still
though, the hot looking lieutenant, `could' have a girlfriend, which made
him switch to an uneasy feeling of light despair.

As for the lieutenant, he split his attention in thirds, drawn to Hewy, who
interjected food for thought, mostly in the negative, against what Nolan
was going up against, Nolan himself and thirdly, the arm and hand pressing
against his left side. Obviously, a necessity towards fitting the tight
compartment of the vehicle with three men across, the middle passenger had
to be sandwiched in. He wondered about the language of having a hand
separate thighs. Several times, Patrick leaned forwards, in apparent move
to connect eyes with Nolan, but glanced towards Eamon, like he was
addressing him for questioning. He could have sworn, a couple of times, the
hand moved, scraping knuckles against the thigh of his pants. When all was
said and done, Hewy and Nolan conferring about the whole plot going down,
at least foiled on the other end by a conniving, money-hungry individual,
Patrick could more or less relax, his part of the job complete.

"So, what's your story?"

"My story?" Eamon questions, after feeling some jolts of electricity shoot
up his arm, the government office bouncing the palm of his hand off his,
stationed at his side.

"Yes. We have a profile on Mr. Harrellsson, a sketchy detailing of his
friend," not `boyfriend', "but it seems you came into the picture, without
a clue to who you are. Can we start with a name?"

Eamon senses something, the `interrogation' starting off with a friendly
smile, him offering, "Eamon Riley. I know you're Lieutenant Kiley."

Chancing it, Patrick places his hand on Eamon's right thigh, saying, "My
friends call me Patrick."

The gesture, Nolan picks up on it, signals Hewy with his eyes, then shifts
them to his right, drawing analogy to Patrick's `touching'.

Nervous, Eamon asks, "Kiley, that's Irish, right?"

"Not any less than Riley!"

By this time, Eamon took his own gander, placing his hand over Patrick's
and rubbing it as he asks, "I suppose this finger would not be bandless, if
there was a Mrs. Kiley?"

Sliding his hand further towards Eamon's inner leg, Patrick replies, "If
there was, I'm sure she would be mighty jealous, besides, I'm only
eighteen, too young to get serious about stuff like that."

The dude behind the wheel, not missing a bit of the soap opera, brakes,
then turns around and says, "Why don't you two quit the bullshit? Pat,
fucking kiss him before he slips through your fingers?"

"Oh?" Nolan questions the driver, "And how would you have a sense of things
like this?"

Hewy, more demanding, plays on the security dude's words, "Why don't you
cut the bullshit?"

"Y'know," he replies, more congenial, "I think I'm going to like getting to
know you two guys."

"Get to know us?" Nolan asks.

Patrick was too busy, the driver offering a hand over the seat to Nolan,
"Vince Portobello. I'm your new escort for the next few days. I'll be
accompanying you everywhere you and," as Patrick didn't put it, "boyfriend
over the next week or so, until they've gotten things wrapped up."

Hewy, kind of liking Vince, as a friend, asks, "Does that include the
shower?"

Joking, Vince says, "Of course. I gotta make sure there's nobody between
your legs, except me!"

"Uh, Vince?" Nolan interrupts.

"What?"

"I hope you're meaning on your knees, with your mouth open?"

In the affirmative, Vince also offers, "My tongue up his ass, with your
permission?"

Thinking Vince could be quite the hot playmate, Nolan probes, "I suppose if
you ask nicely, Hewy might let you?"

Patrick, getting his dig in, interrupts his conversation with Eamon, to
say, "Cuff his hands behind his back and make'm. It'll keep you nice and
hard, huh Vince?"

Switching his head back and forth like a beach volleyball match, Vince
replies, "You guys into kinky stuff?"

Hewy replies boldly, "I think I might be able to `whip' you into shape,
Vince!"

"Hot fuckin' diggity!" Vince shouts with exclamation.

Eamon fronts the question, "Uh, Nolan, what is it you guys are talking
about?" Although he wasn't without clue, the use of the word `kinky'.

Temporarily parked on the side street, Nolan passes the buck, "Patrick
seems to have an idea. Ask him." In another direction, "So, Vince are we
going to sit here on the curb all night?"

"Where to boss?" Vince asks Patrick.

"Airport. Pronto!"

"I don't have my passport with me," Nolan says, a good directive, leading
to whether they were flying out of the country, or staying put within US
boundaries.

Vince roars with laughter, after offering, "A passport never stopped
Patrick!"

"Of course," Eamon guesses, "working for the government you can do most
anything, right?"

Fast-falling for Eamon, Patrick says, "Right. I can even arrange it for
some poor guy to have a good credit rating!"

Nolan thought the same thing, only hours earlier. A CEO could work wonders
for anyone in the business world. In no time he would have Eamon sitting on
top of some good credit ratings, what with a BWM bought on time and paid
off in four months, not that Nolan couldn't afford a cash sale. He loved
helping dudes in Eamon's position, but as Nolan ceded, he was slowly losing
all his good plans to Patrick!

%

"Tom, Tony and me in slavery to some Arab dude?" James returns Laurent's
volley.

"You three and not which you would care, Hans, Jaco and the two
pilots. Yep, Stefano was quite the wheeler-dealer, except for one flaw?"

As the three sat around a table in the small Italian airport, James asks,
"Is what?"

"Greed, gentlemen. He had a buyout plan for everything, right down to
Nolan's old man. Nine slaves would have bought Stefano some early
retirement and if it all went down, he could have spent the rest of his
life holed up in Giuseppe's villa."

Tom jokes, "My only regret is I didn't get to play with Tony in the
dungeon!"

James replies to his bro, "Don't worry Tom. Laurent says the barn used to
be a rich mogul's recording studio. Soundproof?"

"Recording studio? Cool?" Tom says with excitement. "I could cut a demo!"

Tony mocks, "Make some demo CD's for Hallowe'en, featuring `my' screams!"
He laughs about the pain.

"You're making me hard Tony!"

"Cool!" Tony says to Tom.

Of course it was all crazy talk, but in their own minds, Tom and Tony were
already thinking up some hot bdsm stuff.

"There really are some horses though, right?"

Looking into James' eyes, Laurent could tell he wasn't all about
roleplay. Too, as he's already experienced, James could be quite the talent
at some soft, sensual lovemaking.

%

"You call this an airport?" Nolan asks.

Sure, Nolan has on most occasions, taken advantage of the executive lounges
of various fly in and fly out points, but nothing rivaled `this' airport.

Vince replies, as he loosens his tie, "Private club. You gentlemen can drop
your draws anytime you feel the mood calling!"

"Uh Vince?"

"Yes, sir?" he follows up with a glum attitude towards Patrick.

"Want to take your mind out of the gutter for a moment and think about
tidying up on the paperwork?"

Eamon learned on his own volition, Patrick being a superior officer towards
whatever Vince's rank. However, coupling the idea of Vince being on his
knees, his wrists cuffed behind his back, he wondered if the professional
overflowed into the personal side or their lives.

Eamon kind of got Vince off the hook, saying, "You don't need to do
paperwork too, do you Patrick?"

Nolan, nodding his head to Hewy, meant to gravitate him towards Vince,
prods, "Of course you don't, Patrick and neither does Vince. You can leave
all those nasty little details to tomorrow?"

Hewy picked right up on it, walking over to Vince and regardless of
Patrick's power over the thirty-four year old, says demonstratively, "Why
don't we see what we have to work with?"

"Hot diggity!" Vince seemed to override any directive from Patrick, as if
he wasn't standing there, never gave any order.

He had picked the phrase up from the `Bear Lair' one night, watching from a
distance, the first time Hewy saw a guy being stripped at the door by a
master. This one being Geoff Sahin!

"Now you're talkin'!" Turning to Patrick, "That is, if it's all right with
you sir?"

"C'mon," he took Eamon by the shirt sleeve, "I'm placing you under arrest!"

Concluding with a smile, Eamon knew he wasn't in any real danger, but
voices his honest opinion, "Really? I thought maybe it could be the other
way around?"

He was getting his feet wet, whereas for Patrick, he was a seasoned
player. Depending on the guy, Patrick could let the wind take him in either
direction. Showing Eamon a fair player, says, "Does this mean you're going
to interrogate me?"

He's seen movies, soldier boys stripped down, chained heroes refusing to
rat on their country, while their aggressors tortured the hell out of
them. Fresh on the subject, Eamon replies, "I could try, but I won't be
good at it?"

Patrick replies with renewed emotion, a hot, young, new master, his mind
and bod for the breaking, his crotch filling up fast with emotion,
"Everybody's got to start some place!"

Meanwhile, Hewy had followed through on what he saw at the club, Geoff
Sahin taking the business dude's shirt in his hand, tearing it right down
the middle, button's flying in all directions, with not a care in the
world.

Nolan thought Vince took it quite well, especially the cooing sounds, Hewy
feeling up all the bear fur!

%

"So, what devious plans do you have for us next, Laurent?"

Sharing the responsibility, Tony informs them, "Unfortunately, we do not
have information regarding the third party involvement just yet."

"But we will," Laurent implants in their minds, more a plan to alleviate
any stress.

"Third party?" Tom asks, then gets it, "Oh, you mean Stefano's contact?"

Tony sums up, "Hey, you know you would be good in government security,
Tom?" he pats his boyfriend on the back.

Smirking, James asks, "Yeah right. They wouldn't happen to have any
openings in the `interrogation' unit?"

The brothers exchanged smiles, each knowing it was a joke, in reality Tom
knowing he would be good at it, though he wasn't really into anything
hardcore, explaining, "I don't think I could get into waterboarding or
anything like that. I'm not into killing guys."

Tony jokes, "Yeah, only into maiming them!" His hand toys with his crotch.

Tom, on the defensive asks, "Name one time I maimed you?"

"Can't think of one," Tony replies in a jovial manner, "but I loved what
you did to my balls!"

Laurent clears his throat, "Gentlemen, can we get serious?"

"I thought they `were' being serious," James replies. "So, what's next?" he
leads Laurent like a witness.

"For the next month or so, we will be spending time at the ranch."

Tom pipes up, "I thought that's the plan you had for James and me?"
Faulting, he includes, "And Tony?"

"Same ranch," Laurent replies in the affirmative, "except for the next
month or so, you will be `sharing' it."

Tony jumps in, this time with more sincerity, "Unfortunately, because of
the sensitive nature of the unknown, regarding the `third party', we all
will be incarcerated there with some of the others involved in the caper."

Laurent goes on to name names, "The younger Mr. Harrellsson and Demont,
plus those who have close personal relationship with or to them."

James asks, "Is there enough room for everybody?"

Tony replies, "As already mentioned, before it was a full working ranch, it
was a recording studio, but before they ripped tunes, the government used
it as a boot camp. Later on, the barracks were converted into small
cottages. Even though we will number under fifty, the cottages could
accommodate up to two hundred."

Tom jokes, "And the dungeon?"

Countering Tom's wiseass joke, Tony replies on an enlightened note, "None,
but they still have some of the apparatus left up from the boot camp?"

He was enticing Tom, him taking the bait, "Oh cool! Maybe we should test it
out to see if it's still in working order?"

Laurent, not a stranger to the passing history of the ranch, looks into
James eyes, smiles, says, "Would love to waddle around in the mud pit with
you, James!"

It was time to go, a dude coming in to alert them to a gassed up lear jet,
the quartet making their way from the hangar.

Tony, already feeling the pangs of settling down on the ranch, quips to
Tom, "You're gonna love all the stuff you can do to me!"

"Counting on it!" Tom replies.

For the first time since they had formed a relationship, it left Tony
dumbfounded, the uninhibited kiss on his cheek, him frozen, a hand to his
face, making sure it was real. "Wow!" he answers himself about the doubt of
it happening. He felt all warm inside and it wasn't for the fact his mind
had been on some hot bdsm!

%

Across the sea, about the same scenario was taking place. Even unaware of
the way things can change in the twinkling of an eye, Vince had to make the
best of fastening the front of his shirt back together, mainly his tie
keeping it all intact, the band rushing out of the lounge and onto the
tarmac.

"And just as I was getting hard!"

Nolan jokes, "Don't worry Vince. I'll make sure you get what's coming to
you!"

"I like it rough. Is he capable?"

That Nolan didn't have a clue. Sure, he experienced a flogging, but at the
time he equated it to something which Vince could find quite
pleasurable. Other than the few minutes of the flogger crossing his blades,
he frankly had to admit, "I'm not sure. We didn't get that far."

Meeting them at the plane, it reminded Vince of their playtime, him saying
of it, "Patrick can be a real hot bastard. Not afraid to beat a guy up."

"Oh really?" Nolan asks out of consideration, "Then I'm not so sure Eamon
and he will click."

"No, no, no, Nolan. You got me wrong. I meant roleplaying. In real life,
Patrick is a compassionate romantic, but when we get together for some
rough stuff, he can really pour it on."

If he didn't experience the short episode with Geoff Sahin, probably Nolan
would still be on his guard, however, "I understand now." He relaxed,
concerning Eamon.

Entering the plane, it was a concern of Hewy, complaining, "All I have is
my tee shirt and jeans," pulling the tee shirt away from his pecs and
letting snap back.

"Not a problem," Vince replies. "It's only us and the pilots!"

Proving his point, Vince picked up where he left off in the lounge and soon
Hewy and Nolan faced the hairy bear, going next for his belt buckle. "Come
on guys. Don't be shy!"

As Nolan loosened the tie he still had on from this morning, Hewy took the
tails of his tee shirt in two hands and tore it off overhead.

"Oh! Beautiful!" Vince, waddling with his pants down over to Hewy, "Yummy!"
he says of the dark hair midchest, lightly covered pecs, flat nubs, "I'm
like so-o hungry for these!"

His hand getting slapped away, Hewy barks, "Did I say you could touch me?"

Nolan laughs his ass off, watching the dialogue, Vince, his jaw dropped,
after being reprimanded for his grubby fingers ready to tweak Hewy's nips.

"Can I touch?"

Nolan, finding a bar on board, goes about fixing himself a drink, even
though he knew, "Such manners, Vince! You'll never get anything `that'
way!"

Vince, having already told about himself and how rough he could take it,
Hewy remembers something he saw Georg do, regarding the same question.

As Vince howls in pain, Nolan says, "Oh shit!" after Hewy had lifted his
foot up right between Vince's legs.

Walking over to Vince, Nolan asks, "Want a drink?"

Vince replies, as he sits on his knees, both hands cuddling his goods, "I
think I need some new balls!"

"Phooey, Vince! From how you talk, I bet that was a little `tap.'"

Vince claims, "You're as much a sadist as `he' is!"

Hewy knew this was all a sham, but had the curiosity to see how far he
could take it, in other words, how much Vince could take. Walking over to
him, he roughly says, "I don't fuckin' like the way you talk to my
boyfriend."

"Oh," Vince switches his head to his left, looking at Hewy. "Was I rude?"

Cupping his hand to the side of his mouth, even Nolan knew, "You're
supposed to say, `sir'!"

"Too late!" Hewy replies. "Stand, boy!"

Nolan was impressed. With him, Hewy was much more subdued. Addressing
Vince, more a stranger, he was more the `real mccoy', much something of the
character sketch Geoff could be.

Vince stands.

Reaching down, because his pants were still at his ankles, Hewy grabs
Vince's belt buckle and whips the belt out of the loops.

Nolan could see it, sure Hewy picked up on it too, Vince's briefs tenting
and because they were white, it was easy to detect the round circle, a
small circumference of leakage!

"Bend over and assume the position boy!"

`Hey!' Nolan recalled, `wasn't it same way Georg addressed his slaveboy,
right before the leather strap connected with ass?'

"I think I'm gonna fall over," Vince said.

No matter. Since Vince had already divulged he could take it rough, Hewy
wasn't the least hesitant, bringing the doubled back way behind himself and
heaving with all his might against Vince's white-clothed butt.

"Ow-oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-ooh!" Vince jumped away, jumped and jumped and
jumped, like a Mexican jumping bean, holding his ass-on-fire, after howling
like a banshee!

Obvious, Nolan says, "Sure. You can take a lot Vince!"

He laughed.

Hewy found it humorous.

Even Vince, who complained of the effects of the strap, pulling his briefs
down, exposing the indelible red line painted across his ass cheeks, said,
"Okay! I confess!"

"So much for Chained Heroes!" Nolan replies.

"Huh?" Hewy asks, not having knowledge of what is shared between Nolan and
Vince.

"Yeah, aren't they fuckin' hot?" Vince replies to Nolan.

"So much, we all have the tendency to be wannabees, huh Vince?"

Vince, recalling the `Chained Heroes' series, replies, "Damn, I'd like to
be able to take a heavy gut punch or whipping."

Casually, Nolan replies, "Careful what you wish for Vince!"

Hewy stood, taking in the conversation. At a later date he would have to
look up theses movies. For now he asks, "How about a drink?"

The three stripped down to nothingness, but ten minutes before takeoff, the
pilots arrived, finding their way through the plane to the cockpit!

One was void of interest, marching right towards the front of the jet. The
other, smiled to the point of a toothy grin, acknowledging the naked
passengers, "Gentlemen?"

Nolan reading the jets `propeller' like a book, suggests, "Let us know when
you go on auto-pilot, captain!"

It made him wiggle his eyebrows, a signal to show Nolan was coming in loud
and clear.

Thinking the plane was ready to lift off, a commotion towards the entrance
cut out of the side of the plane, he views a familiar face, "Demont?"

"What is this about Nolan? What did you do?"

"Me?" Nolan asks, looking around, because everybody suddenly drew their
attention on the CEO. "Nothing! Didn't they explain...."

"Nobody explain nothing to me," Demont looked outraged. "Me and my boy are
lying in bed and suddenly!" he pauses, "These men have to ruin a..." and
because he `was' having a `good fuckin' time', "good fuckin' time!" Even
though, he just has to pop the question, "Where's the co-pilot?"

Even though aroused out of a perfectly good sexual encounter with the
attendant pumping gas, on his way home from the Harrellsson building last
night, an affair which carried him and his twenty-six year old `trick' over
into the next day, viewing the co-pilot board the same plane, ahead of him,
gave Demont temporary amnesia.

Nolan replies, "Um, flying the plane?"

"After he's done, we are going to have some words!"

Hewy speaks up, "You mean the captain or co-pilot?"

Describing, Demont id's the dude, "Tall, wide-shouldered, swimmers build,
cropped beard, shades?"

Nolan butts in, "Co-pilot. Not the captain and as we already know, the
captain swings in our favor, but the co-pilot, you're out of luck
Demont. He's straight."

They all laughed, Demont carrying on, "So? What does that have to do with
anything?"

"That's Demont!" Nolan gave up.

Placing a bag in the overhead, Demont took a seat. An onboard movie didn't
stir his interest, but rather thoughts of `his' co-pilot and how, after the
flight was grounded, he would be turning straight-boy into a gay man!

%

On the flight out of Europe, the cabin divided up into groups of
three. Tony and Tom sat in the back of the small jet, Laurent and James
heading up front.

In the middle, to the left side, sat agent Justin Kincade. With all the
hassle of the flight out, turned around, landing, then waiting around,
everyone was pretty well conked out. Next to Tom, Tony had dozed off,
towards the window. He could see in front of him, eight rows up, Laurent
and James, their heads bobbing up and down, till they didn't move any
longer. As for agent Kincade, their chaperone to the unknown destination in
the `States', he was much like the others.

`Some protector!' Tom thought.

Backing up to ten minutes before lift off, when he had entered, introduced
himself, saying he would be on for the duration of the trip and if any of
them had further questions, could direct them to him, well right now, it
hit Tom. He had questions. Too, when Agent Kincade had boarded, walking
past him and parking his `lovely' ass on the right side of the plane, he
had wondered about what else made up Agent Kincade's physique. Never in his
life had he ever admitted to having gardar, but something irked him on
about the protectorate and because of it, he could not settle down to rest
in peace.

"Hey, you sleeping?"

Kincade was on the verge, but picked his head up and lied, "Nope. What's on
your mind?" He picked up his briefcase, volleying it over his lap and into
the seat next to him.

Concluding it an invitation to have a seat, Tom sat, saying, "You made
mention, if anybody had any questions and I have a few."

"Fire away!" Agent Kincade replied confidently.

To break the ice, Tom asks, "Is it alright if I call you Justin?"

"Sure. All right if I call you `Tom', Tom?" he laughs.

"Maybe," Tom replies, a certain something on his mind.

"Huh?"

"Never mind. You can call me Tom."

"Okay. So. What else is on your mind, Tom?"

He wanted to ask, `How big is your cock,' but put it off, "You have a nice
build. You workout?"

"Sure do, but much of building up of this bod comes from working on the
farm."

"Farm?" Tom questions, thinking he's made a breakthrough regarding the
destination of the plane.

"You'll have to wait to hear the rest of that part of my life."

"Got lots of muscles?"

"I'm not one to boast, but I can make a nice sized bicep pop."

It was leading Tom right where he wanted to go, "Can I see it?"

"Can you see it?" Justin says, not sure, because in order to show off his
bulging biceps, he would have to stand, remove his jacket, the tie,
shirt... "Uh, maybe some other time."

Tom had a gift to be persuasive and wasn't giving up on Justin just yet,
"Oh come on. Laurent and my brother are asleep up front, Tony's conked out
in the back. It's just you and me."

"I don't know," Justin bit his lip.

Raising the stakes, Tom stands, grabs the tails of his tee shirt and tears
it up overhead, saying, "I'll go first!"

He knew then, Justin's eyes perusing his bod as if ten guys had shot their
load over his bod, his looker with an unquenchable thirst.

"Nice," Justin replies, then amends, "I mean... You go to the gym too?"

Not unless he had followed some hot guy in from the curb, did Tom set foot
inside a gym, but rather carrying on with dramatics, "Now I get to see your
biceps?"

"Um, uh..."

According to Tom, Justin wasn't moving too fast, or else he was shy, or
changing his mind altogether. Not allowing that to happen, Tom bends
slightly at the waist, takes Justin's tie in his hands, saying, "Here, let
me help!"

His head shot down to his chest, but as Tom began to dismantle his neck
tie, he looked up. There he was met by Tom's eyes and a wry smile. Justin
then summed up the pretending was over!

"I have a confession to make?" he said as Tom rips the tie out from behind
Justin's collar.

"Just pretend I'm your friendly priest!"

He thought it funny, but Tom's bod was on his mind, confessing, "I think
your bod is very hot!"

Rather than thinking he was invading Justin's privacy, Tom went right to
unfastening the button at the collar and finding his way down the dress
shirt.

"I know!" Tom quips.

"You know?" Justin knew Tom knew!

Dividing Justin's shirt, Tom laughs, saying, "While we're both in
confessional, I'm not really interested in how big your biceps are,
Justin. These are nice, though!"

"Ooo-o-o-ooh!" Justin sighs, drawing a heft of air in.

"Sensitive, are we?" Tom says, his thumbs wreaking havoc on Justin's
mighty, meaty pecs.

"Baby, their yours!" Justin exclaims, again drawing in air from the
tantalizing touch of thumbs to his nips.

"You don't have to call me `baby'. `Sir' will do!"

Increasing the feel up to mashing, Justin replies, "Yes-s-s-s-sir!"

He stops.

"What'd you stop for?"

Sitting next to Justin, Tom finds the entrances to his shirt, putting it
back on as, inquiring, "Where else are you sensitive?"

"Can you keep a secret?"

"About you being gay?" Tom hints.

"Okay, I'm gay and I've read your file, know you are too."

Realizing the implications, Tom says, "So, I guess you know I like to play
with more than nips?"

From a personal perspective, rather than generalize, Justin reports, "I
could get in to having my nut-sacks knocked around, a nice flogger on my
back or chest."

"And nips?"

"Like I said..."

Recalling, Tom asks, "Anything?"

"Nothing too harsh. Clamps, croc clips, pliers, hot wax, a cropper."

"Not too harsh?" Tom laughs.

Skipping over it, Justin doesn't leave out, "And I know this sounds weird,
but I like stuff done to my navel."

"Like?"

"As you already know, I work out at the gym. I once had a buddy stand me up
against a punching bag and sharpen up on his fight club skills!"

"But that's your stomach. Not your..."

"I know. I was getting to that."

As Justin was about to tell about some weird things done to his bellyhole,
turbulence rocked the plane. It's then he notices himself almost `out of
uniform', buttoning up at least.

A voice comes over the speaker, "Only slight weather conditions. Fasten
your seat belts as a precaution."

It had jarred the others awake. Tom thought he should report back to Tony.

Left all to himself, Justin fastened his seatbelt, his mind wandering right
back to where he left off with Tom. He licked his lips, wanting to taste
some hot treatment he knew Tom could give him!

%

Copyright 2011 T. Chase McPhee

`CoMPany payLoaD' may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without
prior consent from the author.