Date: Mon, 10 Oct 2005 14:08:38 -0400 (EDT)
From: T Chase <survivalgame@excite.com>
Subject: Out In The Wild, Wild West 03

The following story is a work of fiction set in the format of reality. Any
resemblance to real people is entirely coincidental in nature, and is not
meant to accurately reflect persons in towns, cities, or governmental
areas, in which the story is staged. If sexual scenes 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 states and
countries, you are not allowed to read this by law. This is fiction. Don't
forget, in real life, to think about 'sexual safety matters'; got condom?

"Out In The Wild, Wild West" 03
WritTen by T. Chase McPhee

&

These segments are written for my WWW archivist, Steve

&

"How's my Jimbo this morning?" Chey inquired.

Rolling over in the bed, popping his eyes open. Jim West had risen about
thirty minutes prior. Standing over the basin, Chey peered at the man he
has come by fortune to more than know as a friend. He smiled, looking at
the sweet welts that donned West's back.

"Who's the back feel Jimbo? Get enough?"

Jim looks at Chey, through the large round mirror hanging on the wall. With
one hand on his lathered face, readying to shave a stroke with with the
bladed extension of his other arm, he smiles.

Sarcastically he replies, "You've gotta be kidding Chey."

Chey, knowing Jim joked, took it also in stride, as the beginning of
something more. He moved his hands from the propped up positioning of
flaunting his thickly haired armpits, rose up from the bed and stood behind
Jim. He ran his hand, purposely to antagonize, over the freshly applied,
red welts.

"Ihhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" James sighed, at the stinging feeling.

"Hmm... knew I was too lenient on you last night, Jimbo."

Still be sarcastic, but in his right mind truthful, James West replied,
"Yeah, really Chey, how come you didn't put your weight in it?"

"Saving all my energy up for this!"

With that comment, the buffalo hunter positioned all four fingers and
thumb, into a jabbing spike. With one thrust, he implanted the makeshift
buttplug into place.

"Akkkkkkkkkkooooooooooooohhhhhhhhoooh! Damn it! You almost made me cut
myself!"

Chey laughed his ass off, still holding his hand in between the parted
asscheeks. Jim's hands braced himself on both sides of the basin stand. He
had lain the jacknifed razor blade on the granite top. Jim sighed, as
Chey's hand pressed against his back, caused him to bend over. He withdrew
his hand. With the same limb, he picked up the shaving brush and twirled it
around in the dish of lather. While his hand was busy, his foot moved to
spread James West's legs. Chey hated to do this, in reality loving the
looks of a man's hairy ass, but the opportunity presented itself.

"Ooooooooohhhhhh," Jim groaned when the shaving brush delivered the warm
lather to his ass.

"Hmm.... I think this shaving brush could have many uses!"

Jim found out what one of those uses could be, of what Cheyenne's wild
imagination, could entail. After soaping up the dark, hairy ass crevice, he
turned the porcelain end of the brush toward's Jim's ass chute.

"Akkkkkkkkkoooooohhhhhaaaaaahhh!"

"I can see that ass hole loves more than to be fucked, huh Jimbo'?"

"Hell yeah! Work me... oh yeah.. torture my ass..."

He didn't need to specify his enjoyment of the activity. Again, Cheyenne's
hand found out how much James West got out of the pleasuring ass
torture. With the knob of the brush stuck in the tight hole, holding on to
the brush, Chey gave a pull, dislodging it.

"Oooooooooooooohhhh," West pouted.

"Oh don't you worry, Jimbo', I'll have everything up there but the kitchen
sink!"

"Wouldn't mind a bit if you got that up there, too, Sir!"

'Hmm', Chey though. Maybe not a sink, but some more hefty plumbing would
suit him fine and this morning's shaving lather activity sure enough was
pointing in that direction!

"Time to clear away this lather!"

James watched, to his right, as Cheyenne's hand picked up the sharp razor
blade. Like osmosis, the need became evident of the user and his willing
victim. After the first layer of lather had been removed, Chey had to apply
a second helping, to clean up the last scraggles of asshair.

"Nice job, if I may say so, myself!" Cheyenne eyed up his endeavor at
cleaning every last hair off of Jim West's ass.

He held the crevice open, making inspection. In his mind, Cheyenne knew
that the thick, dark hair would grow back. He actually loved the feeling of
the slick asshair massaging his cock, as it penetrated James West's tight
hole, but he would also receive pleasure, as well, at fucking a smooth
chute. In fact, after adding a third coat of lather, he eased his sex
pistol up to the agent's hole. Cheyenne giggled.

"Ooooh yeah... tight again for another hot one!"

The tip of his ten inches of fat meat pressed inwards. As last night, he
again would be busting open the contracted hole.

%

Meanwhile, not far from where the nineteenth century train crossed the
plains, a group of indians gathered. One young halfbreed, referred to many
a white man as, Jonhorse, set up the plan, which the others followed.

They've become a group, gathering from tribes, outcasts, as a result of
their peculiarity as a certain type of man. In today's modern world they
may be known as a 'gay alliance'.

Kachada, known to the whiteman as 'Jonhorse', became the groups leader,
fearing no man, yet men learned to fear Kachada's powerful fourteen inch
weapon.

Translated from the ancient language, this is what the conversation, as far
as I could decipher, read:

"What your message say, Kachada?" One of the half-naked tribesmen, Cheveyo,
twenty eight years old, inquired.

"James West train pass through prairie country this day," says the message,
Kachada reports to Cheveyo.

Another brave, thirty-two year old Hastiin, commands, "I oldest... I get
first chance to torture!"

Kachada smiles at Hastiin, who returns the sly greeting. To each, it's no
secret that Kachada has invaded the thirty-two year old's private territory
on more than one occasion. Kachada knows he owes nothing to Hastiin, no
renumeration for the use of his tight hole, since the man enjoyed every
experience, as much as himself, but agrees, so goes on the principle that
the oldest tortures first.

However, Jonhorse, Kachada, is known as the warrior whom uses a man
first. He didn't acquire his name from breaking horses. On the contrary, at
twenty-five years old, his fourteen inch spear was born to deeply penetrate
a man and ride his ass into the sunset!

A youth of eighteen, Ciqala, walks up to Kachada and asks, "Is it time for
me seek my revenge, Kachada?"

Kachada, in front of the eleven assembled warriors, puts his hand on the
youth's shoulder. He eyes up the spot in the middle of the indian's chest,
where a white man's hot twig branded the youth. Pity comes over Kachada.

Leaning in, Kachada places his lips on the eighteen year old's face. They
exchange the greetings of tongues, scouring the insides of each of their
mouths. After withdrawing, as the ritual goes, when annexing a newer,
younger member, of age, Ciqala falls to his knees, in salute. Kachada
releases the buffalo skin from his loins. Sticking his tongue out, Ciqala
tastes his first mancock.

The braves gather round, welcoming Ciqala into the fold, even though the
eighteen year old came into their camp two years ago. Found, at sixteen
years old, tied, hanging from his arms, raped and tormented, his chest
wound evident of the burning torture from a group of savage whitemen,
Ciqala has learned to call the band his family. As the small group has
evolved, so has their new traditions, inspired by their
uniqueness. Befriended by a newcomer, nineteen year old Etu, the handsome
brave kneels down next to Ciqala. He takes Kachada's balls in his hand and
fondles them. Reaching forward, Etu helps Ciqala drive Kachada into
ecstasy, tonguing his large orbs.

As the inprovised orgy progresses, two of the tribesmen, twenty-seven year
old, Adahy and twenty-six year old, Huritt lift Kachada's arms and begin
bathing his armpits. Thirty year old, Inteus, who's name means 'has no
shame', parts Kachada's asscheeks with his hands, leaning his head
forward. Adahy, knowing Kachada would lower his arm and deprive him of his
delicious meal of armpit hair, presses Inteus' head forwards, impaling
their leader's ass on his tongue.

Lootah, a twenty-three year old Sioux, came to the special tribe acquired
his name from his 'red hair'. Half breed with a Scottish man, he gave up
his name 'Kohana', which transcribed to 'swift'. Lootah, with his fuzzy red
chest and the thin red stripe down his paunchy gut, hardly qualified as
'swift' when running. He also became attached to Songan, like himself,
interbred with a white man of French descent.  Unlike Lootah, Songan boasts
a strong body, with well developed arms, legs, pecs and abdominals. His
chest is of the darkest fur, running across his pecs as if a bear. His
stomach is of this dark fur, as well, with an embedded trail leading
straight down to his deep navel and continuing under his loincloth. Both of
the twenty-three year olds have discovered much in common, more important,
Lootah's desire to please Songan sexually, with his tonguing technigues and
Songan's abilities to soothe Lootah's love chute.

As the tradition has built, the two find their place on either side of
Kachada's smooth pecs, lapping at his perky nips.  Two of the younger
braves, twenty year old Ahote and twenty-one year old Tocho, are two of the
last to imbibe in their leader's pleasuring. Walking around his body, they
try to find a place to make their tongues connect. With all the attention
at slurping, sucking, tongue-fucking ass and ball-lapping, they are
frustrated. That is, until they find Hastiin's hand on their shoulders.

"Kachada?" Hastiin inquires.

"Take them," Kachada smiles.

Both know well that as the tribe's population increased, the tongues would
outnumber the surface area of the flesh. Hastiin's smile thanks Kachada for
his gracious endeavor. Hastiin places his arms around Ahote's and Tocho's
necks and the three walk off towards Hastiin's abode.

Slowly, as the oral workover pans out, the participants break off into
two's or three's and leave Kachada alone, with the man of his choosing,
Cheveyo. Seeing that Inteus is left, unpaired or 'claimed' by a pair of
men, the pitying Kachada invites Inteus to join Cheveyo and himself, in his
private abode.

Cheveyo asks Kachada, "If it is permitted, Inteus can tongue me, as I use
my tongue on you, Kachada?"

Smiling, Kachada sees how much Cheveyo's cock swells and permits the
favoring of Inteus' oral savoring. However, at times, he directs Inteus'
mouth to his own gentials, as Cheveyo kisses him or licks at his pecs. Even
at times Kachaka will lie back, stroking his own cock, while he watches
upon Cheveyo and Inteus performing their own sexual act. As Kachada feeds
his fourteen inches into Cheveyo's ass, barebacking him, he allows Cheveyo
and Inteus to '69'.

%

Meanwhile, back in Washinton....

"It's like I always said to you, Artemis. Wasn't it I who always told you
so?"

Artemis Gordon didn't want to admit to his long time acquaintance, mentor
and most likely the most prolific actor of his time, J.J. Sebastien, the
fact that their past relationship as teacher and student had paid off, upon
the dissolving of his partnership with James West.

"Alright, J.J., I give."

"Hee heee.... I knew I'd get it out of you Artemis, one way or another."

"Okay, so you've got your information, J.J., now how about untying me?"

There lay Artemis Gordon, tied eagle-spread to the bed, not a stitch of
clothing on his body.

"Not so hasty now," Sebastien cautioned him. "I'm not quite finished with
my curious questioning."

Even though J.J. Sebastien had been twelve years younger than Artemis, the
twenty-one year old adored his student, worhipping him like a Greek
god. However, he knew how much his student, friend and occasional lover
enjoyed the mixture of sex and bondage, plus at times some kinky play.

"And what else is it that you care to know, J.J.?"

"First, Jim hadn't a clue to yourself being gay?"

"What are you going to do if I don't tell?"

A ploy, on Artemis' part, he looked up into Sebastien's eyes. Because of
his fascination of those blue hues, he didn't notice a hand moving to his
public region.

"Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwch! Owww...owww..owww..ooohh..  alright...alright...I give,
J.J.!"

Sebastien loosened his grip on Artemis' balls, grinning.

"Sadist!" Artemis called out.

With a wider grin, Sebastien replied to his accusation, "I don't think
you're in a position for name calling, my love!"

However, instead of an unforgiving attitude, the thespian leaned forward,
doggie style. Slowly his head descended to Artemis and he molded his lips
to his older student's face. He broke, rising up and looking between
them. To others, Sebastien could be a ruthless topman, but Artemis Gordon
meant something entirely different to him. Their BDSM play was more in the
friendly, joking display of affection. J.J. Sebastien was about to do to
himself, what he would never let another man do. Keeping his eyes glued to
his tied down partner, Sebastien began rearranging himself, on the bed.

"You want me, don't you Artemis?"

Gordon didn't say a word. His facial expression said it all.

Sebastien's knees straddled Artemis' stretched thighs. Reaching back, he
grabbed hold of the 10.5c spike of steel, standing up straight from the
bed.

"You want this up my ass, don't you Artemis?"

Again, no word came from the bound man. Sebastien only smiled, as he guided
the thick piece of meat to his own ass hole. Now, beginning to sit up
straight, Sebastien closed his eyes. His face began to look contorted, as
Artemis' shaft entered his ass chute.

"Ooooh akkkkkkahhhhhakkkkkkkkkkkkk!" Sebastien groaned, first as the tip
entered, then began penetrating his ass chamber.

It wasn't the first time Artemis' cock had been lodged in that tight hole,
but it's been some time between their last lesson and Artemis' assignment,
partnered with James West. In all his life, there's only been one cock
penetrating Sebastien's tight hole; only one man to ever use it. Gritting
his teeth, Sebastien lay back, boosting himself up on his hands, against
Artemis' thighs. Perhaps, indeed, Sebastien could be of a sadistic nature,
but he allowed himself to be taken by one and only one man.

"Untye me, J.J."

Their role reversal time had come to an end. Sebastien leaned forward. He
whimpered when the tip of Artemis' shaft popped out of his hole.

"I can see how you missed me, J.J.!" Artemis Gordon remarked, followed by
an evil laugh.

"Yeah, Artemis. All ten and a half inches!"

"Get that ass in position!"

"Ohhh!" J.J. Sebastien cried out, as Artemis slaps the blonde's asscheeks.

To others, Sebastien was their supreme being, but he bowed to Artemis,
stretching his arms out on the bed, allowing the thrity-three year old to
tie his arms down tightly.

"Yeah, gonna drive your ass all over the territory, J.J.!"

"Be gentle, Artemis?"

Locking eyes, as Sebastien looked over his shoulder, Artemis said, "You
should have thought about that when you held my balls in your hand, J.J.!
Haa ha ha ha ha haaa!"

"Oh shit!" Sebastien exclaimed.

However, secretly, Artemis adored J.J. Sebastian. Placing his hands on the
sides of the twenty-one year old blonde's sides, Artemis ran his hands
through the blonde armpit fur. Both men sighed. He leaned over and kissed
the pure white shoulder blades.

"I want you," Artemis said, after moving his lips next to Sebastien's
ear. "You want me, don't you J.J.?"

"You know it, Artemis."

"You want my thick shaft up your ass, don't you?"

The first time, long ago, when he was seventeen and a young, aspiring
actor, he thought twice about having his ass split open, however now love
prevailed.

"Take me, Artemis. My ass is your's. Claim me for your own."

"Claim you, J.J.? You told me that every time I took your ass."

"Yeah, but now I'm yours forever, Artemis. You... you're not going back to
James West, are you?"

"That fucking son of a bitch!"

Sebastien had struck a wrong chord. Right away, he sensed Artemis'
tension. The grip on his sides, almost penetration of fingernails, told him
the anxiety he had.

"Artemis, I'm sorry. Okay?"

Artemis' cock lay in Sebastien's asscrack, like a wienie in the bun, as he
fell over onto his lover's back.

"I...I'm sorry," Artemis replied, kissing Sebastien behind the ear.

"I never knew you had such vehement feelings for James West, Artemis. You
two seemed like the most succesful government team. I would've never had
suspected..."

Artemis cut him off with, "Yes, in the public eye, but what people never
knew is how unpredictable Jim could be."

"Like how?"

"Let's get comfortable first. I don't feel like a bondage scene at the
moment."

After untying the ropes from the headboard, the two turned to face each
other. Sebastien still had the rope tied to his wrists, his wrists to each
other, but freed of the bed restraint. He lifted his arms up, encasing
Artemis, as if holding a barrel to his chest. The two immediately began
some heaving kissing.

"Ooooh, that's what I really need," Artemis called out, as the rope slid
down his back, in a fake massaging action.

"I'm your's, Artemis. Heart, mind, soul, body; your total slave!"

"Then how about ridding yourself of the rope and giving me a massage?"

Hugging Artemis closely, he gained enough leverage to untie each wrist,
tossing the rope overboard.

"Which would you prefer, Artemis, my love? Hot oil? Eucalyptus? Coconut
cream?"

Turning over onto his back, Artemis replies, with a grin, "You're tongue!"

Grinning back, Sebastien replies, "I was hoping you would allude to that."

Bowing down, kneels on the inner portion of Artemis' thighs, Sebastien
lowers his face towards the dark, hairy bush. Opening wide, he accomodates
the thick tool, swirling his tongue around the thick shaft.

"I think I do prefer some kinky play. How about getting me a belt, J.J.?"

"Yeah, sure."

Sebastien pops off the thick barrel, hopping off the bed. Going to the
wardrobe closet, he opens the door, reaching down.

"Pull the belt from my pants, J.J."

"Wouldn't you rather," Sebastien starts to explain, stalls for a couple of
seconds, then emerges from the wardrobe closet, holding up something, then
says, "use this?"

"Nice!" Artemis calls out, with a grin, eyeing up the flogger. "And where
did you get that?"

"When I was in Paris, on tour two months ago. It's never been used."

"Never been used? I would've thought it broken in on one of your playmates,
J.J.?"

"Oh no. I'm saving the special toys for your use, Artemis."

"Toys? Are there more?"

"Actually, I brought back a booklet from the salon I purchased this at."

Sebastien flicks the flogger against the mattress, for effect.

"Before you decide to get your revenge on James West, perhaps you and I
might prepare a trip to Paris and visit 'La Salon de Torture'?"

"I like your thinking, J.J. C'mon. Bring that here. I'm just starting to
relax."

For about an hour, the two lay side by side, looking at all the torture
toys, giving their own opinions of which ones to torture James West
with. Both wanted to soak much of their combined wealth, to get even.

"Have you ever heard of the actor, Marcus Giovanni?"

"The Italian actor that portrays those Shakespeare roles. Yes, I know of
him, J.J. Tall, dark and handsome. What about him?"

"He sabotaged my carriage. I was late to the audition and missed it. He got
the part. I had a good chance of securing it, too."

"Hmm... looks like we'll have to build a torture chamber big enough for
two!"

Like that wasn't what Sebastien had on his mind?

%

Continued.....

             Copyright 2005 T. Luke McPhee
             All World Rights Reserved.
             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!