Date: Sun, 22 Jan 2006 18:19:07 -0800 (PST)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: Out In The Wild, Wild West 33

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" 33
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"Akkkkkkk...Akkkkkk...Akkkkkkkkkkkkk!" The thirty-two
year old blond, muscled Dutchman screamed.

"I'm sorry I caused you so much pain, sir."

"It was inevitable, Grant. Release me from these
bindings."

"Yes, sir. Right away sir."

What had gone around, came around, for Hans van der
Beek. Several months before being favored by Voltaire,
he had helped gain reprieve for a guard, sentenced to
banishment from the fortress. What that would have
entailed is being sold into slavery. However, being
the fast talker he is, Hans quickly talked Voltaire
into allowing Grant Otterstad to become his ward, to
retrain, transform the unruly attitude into a model
guard. In a matter of five days, Hans, with access to
the dungeon, was able to accomplish the feat.

"Your nips look very sore sir. I'm sorry that...."

"Do not apologize, Grant. The only way to free me from
that eternal torture was to remove the clamps from my
nips. Now, let me enlist you in finishing what I have
come here to accomplish."

Grant's look on his face showed questions.

"I'll explain, but we don't have much time. Loosen
these bindings, Grant."

"Yes, sir."

Before meeting up with Hans van der Beek, going on two
weeks ago, the twenty-nine year old recalled how
uncooperative he had been. He looks back over the
treatment, the whippings, the punishments for his
insolence, before his `taming'. What he looked upon as
disgusting, filthy, each night brought Grant around to
the pleasure of mansex. In fact, so distraught with
the idea of lying in Hans' bed, faced up, having to
watch as the thirty-two year old blond-haired man
parted his legs, cock being forced into his ass
chamber, he had to be put in rope bondage. Not even
through the first night of having his ass penetrated
by Hans' twelve inches, did Grant surprise himself at
how satisfying it could be to have another man's cock
massaging his ass walls. He wondered how Hans could
sense the opposite feelings he had, other than the
possibility of experience as the cause, that made Hans
untie his arms from the top of the bed. On the second
day, of Hans training him, Grant could not believe
himself that he was begging Hans to fuck him. Strange
how things turn out!

After releasing Hans, he instructed, "Help me release
these boys from their torture, Grant."

"Shouldn't we be thinking of ourselves, Hans? I mean,
sir."

Thinking of himself, of the reasons that he dared to
try rescuing Grant Otterstad, Hans placed one hand
behind the twenty-nine year olds head, the other
behind his back and brought their bodies together,
tasting the honey-lips.

"It was `sir' in this God-forsaken dungeon. When we
leave here, you call me Hans," He said to Grant in an
ordering fashion.

"Yes, sir," Grant replied, then changed it to, "Hans,
sir."

"C'mon. Let's get Manning and get out of here."

"Manning? Why is he so important?"

"I have been sent here to retrieve the young man, by
his father."

As the two worked at lowering the winch on both Peter
and Rosario, Hans explained how Peter's father, an
entrepreneur, wealthy constituent in the Washington
scene, had contacted the Secret Service, regarding the
disappearance of his son. He had caught up to Peter,
while painting on the side of the river in Maryland.
Before he could approach the young man, Voltaire's
thugs had descended upon him, taking the young man
prisoner. Following them to this fortress, Hans found
that rather than being forced into servitude, Peter
had chosen to cooperate, unlike the other young man
that Peter's balls had been tied to.

"There's no easy way to release them, Grant."

Before removing the chains from Peter's wrists, Grant
had questioned the unbinding of their balls. Hans
reported, like his nips, undoing the torture would be
just as painful as the application. Grant, like what
has happened to Hans, knew the feeling of torture
applied to the body. As Hans unraveled the story of
his coming here, he realized that the Dutchman had no
choice but to punish him. In many ways, Grant thanked
Hans for saving him from being sold into slavery.
Thanked him for forcefully changing his attitude, even
though it meant being whipped and tortured. The last
thing he thanked Hans for was showing him how
enjoyable mansex could be!

"Slowly, Grant."

"Okay, Hans."

To Grant Otterstad, he felt more relaxed towards Hans.
Already, the serving side of his behaviour began to
melt away. Feeling a bit strange about it,
nevertheless comfortable, Grant had a tingly feeling
in his mind, body and below, looking upon the six foot
three man.

As he handed the pole to Hans, unwinding Rosario's and
Peter's balls, Grant observed, "I know this is going
to sound strange Hans."

"What is, Grant?"

"Strange thing is that right now I feel like getting
fucked?"

"Later."

However, it wasn't without Grant getting a cocky smile
from the blonde giant.

"I wish there was an easier way," Grant still voiced
his opinion about a softer means to release the two
men's balls.

Rosario and Peter continued groaning as their balls
slackened.

"Well, at least their balls are not as red as they
were," Grant mentioned, as an act of consolation.

As Hans handed the pole over to Grant, creating almost
enough slack to untie their restrained orbsacs, he
could see what a vast difference in Grant. If he could
have even thought that two weeks ago he'd wind up
loving this man, he would have thought of himself as
being insane.

"Grant?"

"Yes, Hans?"

"Tonight I fuck you different."

"How so?"

"Tonight I take you... claim you."

"What does that mean?"

Hans didn't explain, just smiled. Grant let it be at
that.

"C'mon. We untie Peter now."

"What about the other boy?"

"My instructions are to rescue Peter and bring him
back to his father."

Grant helped Hans untie Peter.

Hoarse, from screaming and with not much coherence,
they heard from Peter's lips, "I--I'm not... not leaving
without... Ro--Rosario."

Looking across from where Peter had been bound, Hans
and Grant looked at Rosario.

"Peter...don't...don't leave me...here."

It's Grant that made the observation, "We have to take
him, Hans. Peter and Rosario are like us, I think!"

Hans saw that. He looked upon Grant, wanting to take
him in his arms, not only for the warmth that radiated
from his heart, but for thinking of another before
himself. Two weeks ago, he pinned not only the
rebellious attitude on Grant, but a self-centered
heart.

"Well, if you're not going to do anything about him, I
am!"

It had been a welcomed act of defiance on Grant's
part. Hans, with Peter over his shoulder, smiled as
Grant rushed to Rosario's aid, untying him and like
Hans, let his body fall over his shoulder.

"Whoooooaaaaa!" Grant replied, as he tried steadying
himself.

Grant, trying to be the muscle stud Hans showed he
could be, wavered around before having to set Rosario
down.

"I can do this!" Grant said, before Hans could speak.

He watched as Grant took in several breaths of air.
Lifting first, Rosario's arms, he threw them over his
shoulder.

"I can do this!"

Next, he put his shoulder up against Rosario's hairy
chest, then after heaving, let Rosario slip up onto
his right shoulder.

"Grab his legs and fast!" Hans shouted out.

"Whew! That was a close one!" Grant said. "Almost
dropped the guy on his head."

"When we get out of this, I will show you how to get
real muscle. Come on!"

As Hans went to leave the dungeon, a guard happened to
be coming down the dungeon stairs.

"Hans, aren't you supposed to be...."

Grant saw the power in Hans' strength. With one swipe
of his hand across the guard's face, and he was
tumbling down the stairs.

"Quick, step to your right, Grant!"

Of course, it meant squashing Rosario up against the
right wall, but it saved the two from falling down the
stairs with the guard.

"That was a close one, Hans."

"C'mon. Let's get the hell out of here."

When they reached the top of the stairs, the door
swung open, without them even touching it.

"Hans?"

Again, Hans automatically turned on the defenses.

"You can come with us Jason or--or I'll have to hurt
you."

"I'll take my chances with you, Hans."

Grant Otterstad wasn't the first man Hans had
`rescued'. Outside of Washington, thirty-one year old
Jason Schmidt had been making his escape from his
dastard deed of subduing Pedro Gonzalez, when he was
ambushed by Voltaire's men, out on a drive to beefen
up their slave pens. Before being mesmerized by Grant,
Hans had taken a liking to Jason. In reality Hans
wasn't surprised when Jason had opted to go along with
them, nixing the work over from his fists.

"See if you can help Grant."

"Grant?" Jason replied.

Looking behind Hans, beyond the six foot three inch
hulk of a man, ten steps behind, Jason looked upon the
struggling twenty-nine year old.

"I `could' use some help here!"

As Jason helped to remove Rosario from his already
slipping position off of Grant's shoulder, Grant paid
more attention to Jason. After being `converted' by
Hans, to the gay side, Grant thought it an excellent
rule of Voltaire's to
make every guard work bare-chested. Right now, the
feeling of Jason's own bare-chest, sideswiping his own
bare pec, in his attempt to help him with Rosario,
made his loins pulse.

"Both of you... weaklings!" Hans called out. "One of you
take his legs, the other grab him under his armpits!"

Another jolt of manliness rocked Grant's world, as his
hands felt up Rosario's hairy arm pockets. He hoped
Jason's mind had been involved in the rescue attempt,
rather than looking to see his hardon that tented his
leather pants.

"This way," Hans called out.

It was awkward, two men handling one, but they managed
to keep up with Hans' agile steps.

With a bit of humor, in the face of danger, Jason says
to Grant, "Nice ass, doesn't he?"

"Who?"

"Hans."

"Oh. Yeah," Grant replied, puffing his lungs, trying
to keep hold of Rosario and keeping up with Hans. "You
fuck him?" Grant asked, not sure where that came from.

"I tried."

"What happened?"

"He cured me of that notion real fast!"

Unknowingly, Grant's questions tried unraveling the
mystery of whether Hans and Jason had something going
on. Just fifteen minutes ago, Hans and he were
professing their undying love to each other. Now he
wondered where Jason fit in.

"Oh?" Grant questioned Jason.

"Does he have muscles! With one swipe of his hand, he
had me planted in the bed, my legs up on his shoulder
and his cock shoved up inside me. Damn, did that hurt.
I saw stars, I tell you!"

Now Grant was twice as skeptical as before.

"Did you like it, Jason?"

The conversation ceased, as Hans told them to be
quiet.

"Here, one of you take Rosario. The other hold onto
Peter."

Since Rosario's pits had already been sagging from
Grant's arms, Jason put down the other half and took
Peter from Hans. In his haste to unload Peter's body,
Jason and the twenty-six year old stood, chest to
chest.

"Oh shit!" Jason cried out.

Hans, detecting some approaching guards, let go of
Peter, without warning. As if imposing a passionate
hugging, Peter fell into Jason's arms, their heads ear
to ear.

"Ahem!" Grant cleared his throat. "Trying to steal
this man's man away from him?"

"You mean these two are?"

Jason didn't need to finish his statement. Both knew
the implications, as Grant needn't say anything
further. Shaking his head up and down, nodding, gave
Jason the final answer.

"Lucky guys. Both good looking at that," Was all that
Jason could think of saying.

"I need to ask you something, Jason."

"What?"

Before Grant could get out his question, Hans came
back to the two. Behind him two guards walked.

"Oh shit!" Jason gasped, ready to set Peter down to do
battle.

"No, it's alright. They are with us," Hans replied,
his hands showing a calming effect.

Neither Jason, nor Grant, said anything when they took
in the view of the two guards, one with his hand over
the shoulder of the other.

"Let's move it?"

"Here, I'll take that one," one of the guards that
followed Hans, said.

With little effort, he took Rosario and flung him over
his shoulder.

"I'll take the other one," the other guard offered.

To Jason, Grant said, "Muscles," gesturing with his
own arm in an `L' shape, his other hand feeling up his
bicep.

"Yeah, I'll say. Hans told me that if we ever got out
of this, he would show me how to work up to being
muscular."

Grant wondered what else Hans told Jason. Not feeling
any animosity towards Jason, but still having a sense
of jeopardy with his feelings for what they had
started to build, as far as a relationship is
concerned.

%

Continued....


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