Date: Thu, 12 Jan 2006 06:04:34 -0800 (PST)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: Out In The Wild, Wild West 31

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?'

"Out In The Wild, Wild West" 31
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"Rosario, are you awake? Rosario?"

"I'm here."

"I'm sorry I got us into this."

"Got us into this? Peter, I was already doomed to be a
prisoner in this torturous hellhole. You put your life
in danger for me and... and... Peter, thanks."

"I didn't mind doing it, Rosario."

After a brief pause, the talk resumes.

"Rosario, if we ever get out of this, I... I want... I
want us to be together."

"I'd like that, Peter. You know what?"

"What Rosario?"

"I was thinking the same thing. I never met any guy
that cared about me the way you care about me."

"Same for me, Rosario. How did you ever get caught up
in this anyway?"

"Dumb luck or most likely just my own stupidity."

One thing Peter could tell is that Rosario wasn't your
ordinary run-of-the-muck man.

"I was applying for a position, teaching at the
university."

"I thought so."

"How did you know that I..."

"No, I didn't know about that, what I'm talking about
is that I figured you had intelligence."

"And you don't strike me as an idiot, Peter."

"My family drove me away."

"You're family? How does that go, Peter?"

"Ever hear of Manning Shipping?"

"Yes. There's a fleet in the harbor right now. Wait!
Your last name is Manning, isn't it?"

"Uh-huh. My father owns the company."

"Then why aren't you working for him, Peter?"

"I didn't want to go into business with him. In fact I
didn't want any part of the shipping business. He was
furious when I told him that I wanted to become an
artist. I wanted to paint. He said I was wasting my
life. So I left home. Um, how do you get to this
God-forsaken place, Rosario?"

"I found out I was hired for the position of lecturer
at the university."

"What field?"

"English.  While out celebrating, I met up with some
men. They drugged my drink and here I am."

"And that was two weeks ago?"

"Yeah. If I ever get out of here, most likely that
position will be gone."

"Rosario, let's not think about that position at the
university. When we get out of here, we'll have each
other and that's a start."

"No, if we get out of here alive, will be a start,
Peter!"

"Shh! Somebody's coming."

"I think it's important that they don't know we have
these feelings for each other, Peter."

"You're right. We have to make sure we don't show it."

"That's going to be as tough as hell."

The twenty-five and twenty-six year olds could sense
the hell they were about to be put through, as Hans,
Voltaire and Dr. Loveless strolled into the main room
of the underground torture chamber.

"Dr. Loveless, why don't you show us some of your
skill?" Voltaire offered.

"By all means, Voltaire. It will be a complete
pleasure," Loveless replied, rubbing his hands
together, as if to keep warm.

In the Loveless manner, that flicker of excitement
showered his whole being. Right away, the guards, put
at his disposal, began to unfasten the men's legs.
Allowing their legs to swing together, Voltaire, Hans
and Loveless laughed as their thighs, slapping
together, caused their balls some light pain. After
releasing Rosario and Peter from their arms bondage,
Loveless had the guards refasten the two tied between
two posts, opposite, facing each other, about seven
feet apart. They groaned in pain, as to their left and
right wrists, leather cuffs, with metal hooks
attached, bound tautly. Their legs hung straight down,
remaining unbound.

"I call this `audience participation'," Dr. Loveless
informed Voltaire and Hans.

He instructed Voltaire to stand behind Rosario and
Hans behind Peter. Next, Dr. Loveless went to his own
oversized suitcase. He pulled out a long leather lace,
several feet in length. Voltaire and Hans watched, as
the mad doctor tied one end around Peter's balls, not
caring if the tightening rein cinched the skin. In
fact when Peter yelled in pain, throwing his head
back, Loveless giggled.

"Here," Loveless yelled to Voltaire, tossing him the
opposite end of the leather cord. "Tie this to his
balls."

Between Rosario and Peter, the long leather cord
sagged.

"So? What's your point Loveless?"

"Dr. Loveless," Loveless corrected Voltaire for the
umpteenth time.

No words of explanation were needed, as Dr. Loveless
picked up a wooden pole. Looping the middle of the
lace over and around it, he created a turning
mechanism which would catch up the lace, binding it
around the pole with each successive turn. A guard on
each side of the pole, kept it from unraveling the
cord. As each guard handed a pole to the other,
turning it, snagging the leather cord, it took up the
slack. At first Rosario and Peter looked at each
other, then as they vowed, showed no interest in the
other. They looked down, as the slackened leather bind
became a shorter distance between their balls.

"Oh, I see," Hans said, watching the leather cord, now
about two feet from the floor, began to tug at their
victims balls.

Soon the tension began to build to the uncomfortable
stage. Rosario and Peter both began to wince.

"Nice, Dr. Loveless. Very nice!"

"I knew you would enjoy this, Voltaire, but there's
more."

"Get on with it!"

The three sadists began to lust for more pain from the
two men in their bondage. A few more turns and their
balls began stretching away from their bodies, on a
collision course towards each other. Both men screamed
from the pain of their hairy ball sacs stretched,
separated immensely from their cocks. But the grand
scheme of the torture was yet to unfold.

"Now, take hold of your victim's ankles," Dr. Loveless
instructed Voltaire and Hans.

Following Hans, Voltaire stepped in between Rosario's
legs, lifting the captive's ankles up so that they
remained to his own sides.

"Now gentlemen, at will, take some steps backwards."

As instructed, Voltaire and Hans each took two steps
backwards, taking the feet of their victims with them.
The turning, the catching of the lace, winding around
the pole had ceased, but a new torture began
tormenting the two men. As their legs pulled behind
their bodies, it began to stretch their balls even
further away from their bodies.

Hans yells out, laughing, "Tug'o'war!"

"Yes!" Voltaire agrees, a cheery disposition on his
face, enjoying the spectacle of the men screaming in
agony with each additional step.

"Guard!" Voltaire calls out.

"Yes, sir?"

"Take over for me... no, better yet, attach cuffs to
this man's ankles and tie them to the winch on the
wall."

"Yes, sir."

"A nice addition to the torture, Voltaire," Dr.
Loveless commended the fiend.

In no time, Voltaire and Hans stood with Dr. Loveless,
enjoying the side view of watching the two set of
ballsacs stretched to perfection. The pole in the
middle, now wedged into place required no attention.

"Now that's what I call a work of art!" Hans informed
the two.

As Hans looked upon the ball stretching system, Dr.
Loveless took in his own view. Looking up at the six
foot three inch tall dutch man, he gazed at the perky
nips adorning the dutchman's chest.

"Excuse me, Voltaire. A word with you please?"

The two stepped over to the side, out of earshot of
Hans.

"Yes, Dr. Loveless?"

Whatever transpired, whether a sum of money changing
hands or other promises, the two conspirators watched
as four guards approached Hans. With complete
surprise, the four guards descended on Hans. Going for
his legs, they swept him off his feet, two taking on
his arms. There wasn't even time for the Dutchman to
think, as they carted him over to a long table. Hans
couldn't do anything but thrash about, as his ankles
and wrists became fastened rapidly.

"What the fuck is this? I demand an explanation
Voltaire!"

Placing his hand on Hans' smooth chest, he ran it over
his pecs, the palm rubbing over each of Hans' nips.

"Yes, Dr. Loveless, I do believe that these could be a
lot of fun!"

After the devious laughter, Voltaire stepped back,
letting Dr. Loveless climb up on a stepstool. In his
hand was a metal chain. At each end, a nasty, sharp
clamp was fastened.

"No... noooo... please... I can't take pain...nooo!" Hans
begged.

Breathing heavy, chest heaving to and fro, sweating,
he watched as Dr. Loveless opened the sharp-toothed
clamp. With a bright, toothy smile on his face, the
evil doctor gathered the Dutchman's nipmeat in it.

"Why don't you do the other nip, Voltaire and we'll
let go together?"

Voltaire didn't need begging to get him to clamp Hans'
other nip. In a matter of less than a minute, Hans was
arching his back as he screamed out in pain, his nips
clamped with the sharp alligator clamps.

"Excellent! Excellent!" Voltaire shouted out.

It's then that Voltaire got a real shocker. Dr.
Loveless, his pants open, had his cock out, stroking
it. `Shit, he's big!'

Not wanting to disturb his stroking action, Loveless
ordered one of the guards to lower the chain above
Hans' chest.

"Voltaire, would you handle that for me?"

At first Voltaire didn't get it, but then made the
connection of placing the middle of the chain on the
hook, attached to the chain extended from the ceiling.


"Haul them up!' Loveless gave the order.

Hand over hand, the guard pulled on the end of the
chain, moving it through a set of pulleys. Hans
screamed like hell as his nips stretched away from his
pecs, resembling steep mountains.

"Higher!" Dr. Loveless called out.

Turning the winch, the guard kept stretching Hans'
nips. For all it was worth, Hans tried to throw his
chest out, to alleviate the stretching of his nips.
However, soon it was beyond that. With the energy
fading, Hans couldn't help but relax his pectorals,
dropping his back onto the table. He became his worst
enemy, as it stretched his nips even more. Close to
passing out, Dr. Loveless finally shot his pent up
load. Right out, onto Han's chest the streams of cum
shot. Voltaire was thoroughly amazed at the thick
ropes of cum coated the Dutchman's chest. He soon
followed, pointing his cock towards the same
direction.

"By tomorrow they should be at a nice length."

"You plan on leaving his nips stretching all night?"

"Even more so. Guard?"

"Yes, Dr. Loveless?"

"On the hour I want the winch tightened by two chain
links."

"Yes, sir."

Yawning, Dr. Loveless reported his energy as being
`spent'. The two left the dungeon.

%

Continued....


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