Date: Thu, 6 Apr 2017 15:23:05 +0000
From: TCHASE MCPHEE <survivalgame@outlook.com>
Subject: SeCReT siGnS 003

% This work of fiction is set in the format of real-world
situations. Identifying details to real people, alive or dead, is entirely
coincidental in nature.


% States and countries have various rules regarding reading or viewing
`adult material'. It is up to you, the reader, to research this subject,
abiding by laws and conscience. The pages of this story contain `adult
material', intended for an `adult audience.' Bypass this warning at your
own risk!


% If sexual scenes involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then
why are you here? Seriously, if dude-to-dude sex stuff makes you wanna barf
or is gonna screw up your mind, you should not read this story.


% Sexual safety matters. Guys, this is fiction. In real life, use
protection and I don't mean going out and hiring a security guard...unless
he gives your nuts and bolt a jolt!



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%


`SeCReT siGnS' 003

WriTten by T. Chase McPhee


^   0   ^


%


Reporting to study hall, in the theater, Adam walked next to Cris. Hallways
were almost empty, stragglers hurrying into respective classrooms.


Again, Adam reflected on his father's thoughts, trying to outfox him. It
made him smile, of the backfire, placing him in the `male' residence,
attending the `male' sector of the college, thinking it would be a good
deterrent towards getting randy with `girls.' Any gay dude would love a
move like this, but a guy would need to be in the moment to really
appreciate it!


He couldn't help but reminisce about his very first morning at college,
leaving the dorm half-naked, headed for the showers.


"After you," Cris held the door.


Adam immediately got the heebie-jeebies, thinking Cris indeed was listening
in on his mental reverie!


"Uh...yeah...thanks, Cris."


Walking in though, they were not the only 2 students seeking `extra
credit.'


"Welcome!"


Instead of `Burg, there was another man, dressed in a uniform of such. Not
a cop, nor fireman, his shirt had the same appearance, khaki blue in
color. Embossed on the front was a name. Adam made sure he read the entire
first and surname, `Guillaume Cabrere', custodial technician.


It was weird, Adam thought, everything so `technical' these days. About the
name, looked to be a little French, but the surname through him off. Being
he wasn't the first to offer a hand to shake, nor smile or intent eye
contact, Adam took note, who was checking out who!


"It is so good to meet first year students."


"Same here," Adam replied, picking up some weird vibes.


One thing Renaldo cautioned Adam, when meeting a friendly guy, don't brush
him aside, just because he doesn't have drop-dead gorgeous features. He
could still have a big dick!


The day Adam took the advice from his limo driver, he awarded him with,
`sure, easy for you Renaldo...you're the one more interested in swallowing,
than the other thing.'


The `other thing', Adam always hoped he would find true love, not exactly
through the feeling a guy felt, from the waist down. Though, the college
man wasn't discounting the fact, some things a necessity, in keeping a
partnership from dissolving.


Finding seats, Adam didn't entirely brush off the idea he and the custodian
`techie' could do `something' together, but then reflected back on the
dissolving partnership thing. In retrospect, he was sure to nail a guy and
things Adam did in the past could reflect on developing a solid
relationship. He didn't want ghosts to come back and haunt him.


Whatever the case, Adam thought it well and good, to know a dude, his name,
in case it was necessary to mop up the floor.


"Shouldn't he be firing up a boiler or something?"


Inhaling deeply, Cris hints, "rather have him firing up my ass!"


Laughing along, he thought Cris dropped a hint, like how could the school
caretaker be anything but gay, with that tidbit of information?!


To Cris' left, Adam steps behind, to head for the same seat taken first
period. Losing balance on the graduated steps, Adam falls to his left. If
he didn't put out an arm, lean on the dude's shoulder, surely his knees
would wind up to the floor. Quick thought, Adam might be staring at a
crotch, instead of almost scruffy face to scruff.


"You okay?" the other dude says, grabbing Adam's extended arm.


Steadying his footing, Adam replies, "uh, yeah. Once a klutz, always a
klutz!"


Seeing Adam was in control, the dudes smiles, saying, "Apology accepted!"


Not remembering exactly what he said, Adam caught up in the gorgeous face,
"least I can do!"


To make matters sweeter, the `catcher' looks over his shoulder, to the left
and right, locking on some fixed objects, "ha, two seats waiting for us!"


"But you have a seat..." Adam's voice trails off.


It's a sign, Adam thought, a dude leaving his seat for empty empty ones,
one row up.


"Oh. By the way...I'm Patrick."


"Adam."


"Nice to meet you," they shake hands.


"Same here," Adam added a smile, mostly because Patrick initiated it.


Seeming like this could make a nice matchup for him, Adam's hopes are
dashed, another dude approaching. Looking up, it seemed like the dude's
eyes had daggers.


Standing right there, towering over Adam and Patrick in their seats, "beat
it, peon!"


"I'll see you later, Adam," Patrick rises up out of their hand-picked
seating.


Before Adam can get in a departing word, the angered dude barks, "and I'll
be seeing you later, `Patrick!'"


"Uh," Patrick answers, like he was vague about something, then repairs,
"sure thing."


Unabashed about asking questions, Adam says, "like, what was that about?"


Putting it in layman's terms, "Patrick's new to the trade. He has yet to
learn his place."


"And what trade with that be?" Adam didn't let up on the interrogation.


He got a smug smile in return, "I don't think we've met."


Before meet'n'greet could begin, Adam exercises the moxie Renaldo always
told him he had, "of course we haven't met. I never saw you, before you
dropped your ass in Patrick's chair!"


`Oh man,' the dude was thinking, `this guy has got my rocks in a
landslide!'


Adam just waited.


"The name's Jack Key," said like Jack was well-known to everyone around
campus.


He offered a hand, Adam taking it, but not offering any info in
return. Adam already knew how Dierk could be and going on that, realizes
this `Jack' no different.


Having things go his way, Adam opens up, "good meeting you."


Jack felt like he was left cold, thinking `what a fuckin' rude...' Thinking
on it though, this dude might fit in just perfect in the small circle of
friends he hung out with.


He knew he should've been paying attention, to `Burg entering the room,
dismissing the janitor, but Jack was more possessed with looking down, into
the crevice of two legs...see what Adam was packin'!


"Mr. Key?"


Too bad Jack wasn't paying attention, to Professor Hamburg and not Adam's
bulge!


"What was the question again?" Jack made up real quick.


One of the pitfalls, Renaldo had filled Adam in on, meeting new guys, with
an interest in the `size' of a dude's diamonds and rubies, had Adam quietly
snorting out laughter. `Shifty eyes' was one the signs Renaldo had tutored,
on the chapter of `checking guys out.'


At the time, Adam did question which was more apt for a dude's eyes to
study, the crotch or ass.


Renaldo, he said it depended on what a guy was looking for, unsure if he
was into planting or harvesting, into a cheap thrill or looking for true
love...a number of reasons labeled it, `complicated'.


"You know the drill," Prof Hamburg presents to Jack, a returning student
from last year.


Either he could guess the answer and hope it's pertaining to the subject at
hand, or take a demerit. He wouldn't mind the demerit, knowing it could be
worked out where his `servant boy' could pay the price.


`Burg had hoped so. He had seen Jack with his new `servant'. For years
`Burg has been in search of the perfect companion. Y'see, Karl Hamburg,
though he's 31-years old, never got over the fact, since college years,
that he still fall for a college lad, fall madly in love, and...


To show he was paying attention, Adam says out of the corner of his mouth,
for Jack's benefit, "all he wanted to know is how you would speak cordially
to a famous person, met on the street."


Jack was in a predicament and it wasn't over him owing Prof `Burg a few
hours with Patrick. The new guy next to him, had just clued him in. `Why in
hell did the bastard wait so long?'


But that's the way Jack Key's world operated. He knew he was there at the
college of higher learning, achieving a high-priced education, outfitting
him to find success in the world. On the other side of the coin, it was too
good an opportunity to allow to pass, having his small fleet of minions to
trade off responsibility. Not only was this advantageous when it came to
dealing with faculty, but it also scored points with his fellow peers and
not necessarily those enrolled in his own school. He throws up accolades,
praising himself for making a good friend of Dierk Ongar. If it wasn't for
his peer, Jack would never have known anything about discipline and the
ways to command it. Before he came there, the only thing Jack did know, was
putting a dude on his knees and making him open his mouth, of which it
usually wasn't by force!


"I got it!"


"What is it, Mr. Key?"


"I just remembered the question, about meeting a famous person on the
street?"


`Burg looked at Jack, like he had two heads, "uh, that wasn't exactly the
question, but let's hear what you have to say?"


For an instant, Jack glances down at Adam, thinking in his head, `that
wasn't the question, was it?' Whatever, he had to make up something
fast. Later he'd worry about getting even!


Tilting his pencil over to the eraser end, `Burg says, looking to his
watch, "you've got 5 seconds, Mr. Key, before I turn the question over to
someone else?"


"Um," Jack stutters, "whom would it be we're talking about?"


Being the question had nothing to do with meeting a celebrity on the
streets, `Burg leaves it upended, "anyone of your choosing, Jack... and oh,
another stall like that and it's 2 demerits!"


It did phase Jack, 2 demerits, would he have to rustle up another
bottom. Right now he only had one boy to work out favors and `dammit!' he
hated like hell to borrow one of Dierk's. That would mean he would owe his
friend and if he didn't have a boy to pawn off, it would mean his ass on
the line, literally.


Pulling a name out of his head, he chose the last song he heard this
morning, Soakin' Wet, "Steve Grand?"


It was tough, Jack making it through, thinking of the hot singer, stripped
from the waist up, deluged from the waist down in boys, but managed to make
his way through, "a groupie...meeting his favorite singer," flashback, Jack
thinking the Bieb's getting muscled-up, Timberlake, he loved the smooth
type, nothin' like a pair of perky nubs on worked out pecs, "uh, asking for
an autograph?"


"Hmm, interesting," is all Prof Hamburg says.


`Burg reflects on reflects on the past year, and `Patrick', hand telling
Jack to sit.


Adam awards him, "maybe next time you should pay attention to what's going
on and not what's between my legs!"


He couldn't believe it, "you knew?"


For a freshman, Adam thought probably he knew more than some of the
seniors!


For the likes of those whom thought like Jack, they had their own system in
place. The bigger-cock, those `boys' would be more likely to make up
demerits with the prof's. Though, any rule could be bent, especially if it
involved a football player from an opposing team. It wouldn't be like
slavery, Jack, Dierk and some others giving a small percentage of the cash
they made, dishing out their `rent-boys'. This didn't work when it was a
professor, but it did immediately improve the grade point average of both,
the boy on his knees and the `contractor'. Though, there was more advantage
than `payment'. For a gay boy, first time at college, it was overwhelming
being hooked up with some hot guys, when convinced they were wallflowers.


Good thing Adam was paying attention. He was up next!


Professor Hamburg, eyes glued on Adam, asks, "now, sometimes in the course
of one's career, you secure a position, only to be provided with a script
which lists you as a character of which you may not be accustomed to
playing. For instance, you walk into an audition and realize it's a gay
production. The director asks you to ad-lib. What would be your first
course of action, uh, Mr.?"


"Adam Eastman, sir."


"Thank you, Mr. Eastman. Proceed?"


It did phase Jack, `thank you?' A first for `Burg'. Yeah, definitely he was
work up a friendship with Adam.


Using key words, Adam first establishes, "depends on the subject of the
dialogue and the type of action at hand?"


Jack felt great, thinking of how class was going to go, especially with a
student on Prof Hamburg's bad side. No one ever counters a question with a
question. Not in this class. Either you get it the first time, or...or you
don't get it. `Adam' was sure to get a demerit. `Oh well,' Jack thought,
`Time to sit back and let the ax fall!'


Much as jack thought he knew Professor Karl Hamburg, there were some things
he could never guess, except through experience.


That's why it made Jack suddenly sit up in his seat, when `Burg replies,
raising a hand, like calmly paving the way, "let's take for instance,
Mr. Key..."


"Eastman," Adam corrects him.


`That's weird,' Jack's thinking.


"That's right!"


Jack couldn't believe, `Burg laughing at himself for making an error. Not
like him at all to pull stunt like that.


Now Jack was paying attention.


"Mr. Eastman, think of your favorite actor and by chance you meet with him
face-to-face on the street."


In Jack's mind, he wondered what was going on. For certain, having taken
this class last semester, he knows all the little quirks Prof `Burg exudes,
during classroom time. If a student didn't get the question, a pencil
strike would be made in the roster book, the prof moving on. Too, `Burg
never stood there in a relaxed state, like he was doing now, hip leaning
against his desk, arms folded across his chest, feet crisscross. `Damn',
Jack thought, `Prof Hamburg's got the hots for Eastman!'


Looks like Adam wasn't the only one, up on the signs which got a man's
crotch going.


"There's so many, Professor Hamburg...uh, how about..."


Stalling had given Adam time. Certainly, since he had met with Renaldo over
the year, tutored in the fine craft of seduction, he wasn't going to go
easy on the theater prof. Off the top of his head, he chose an actor
Renaldo had mentioned, "Griffin Barrows?"


By the movement of the prof's eyebrows, Jack had mixed reaction. He knew
who Griffin Barrows is, but whether Prof `Burg did or not, he smiled,
thinking it cool Adam had one over on him.


"Uh, sure. Why not?"


Then, from his stance, to standing behind his desk, according to Jack, Prof
Hamburg has taken on his usual demeanor, standing as a relaxed soldier.


One time Jack had heard it, from Dierk, the reason Prof Hamburg liked
standing in that position, he didn't wear any briefs. Any man felt good
with legs spread, balls hanging down.


"Am I playing a straight or gay character?" Adam asks.


Thinking of being fox, Prof Hamburg puts it to Adam, "why don't you give a
scenario of each?"


Right off, the professor didn't have a clue about Adam, him being very
masculine, showing no signs of being anything but straight. All he did
know, went on speculation, based on his looks; college freshman, straight
out of high school, had to be 18 or 19-years old. Standing there, slim,
Eastman held himself up like he worked out, whether he did or not. Shaved
sides of the head, almost military style, but ragged on the top. Mostly
what took his breath away, Adam's attitude. Part of his own being, he liked
a `take charge' attitude. In a young guy...it just got his balls boiling!


Prof `Burg, stood directly behind the boxed lectern, just in case,
"starting now?"


Going on a real scenario, Adam states, "okay, the dude, whom I will
call..." he thinks on it, feeling like a prank coming on, "Karl, I'll call
him..."


Prof Hamburg certainly was glad he stood behind the lectern, Adam picking a
name out of the blue, it happening to be his own first name, this could get
gooey.


"On the way to the bar, Karl is riding in the back of a
limousine. Secretively he's been calling himself bisexual. However, tired
of guessing which sex to run with, he decides to set the record
straight...pardon the pun!"


Adam gets some chuckles, but with obvious repose, Prof `Burg is starting to
sweat.


"For years Karl has been speaking with his `gay' limo driver about the
facts of `gay' life and has been receiving some good feedback. Now that
I've set the stage, I'll..."


Not knowing, Adam had the whole class on the edge of their seats,
figuratively speaking. If the bell didn't sound, surely he would have taken
them farther.


No one could have been more relieved than Professor Hamburg, over the fact
he wasn't wearing briefs today, "hold your thoughts for next time,
Mr. Eastman," which has him rushing out of class, like needing an immediate
pee-pee break.


Knowing when he's up against a wall and wanting to tear the barriers from
getting to know someone, Jack caves, "am I going to get a name from you,
before the semester is out?" He already knew, but it was a good way to meet
a person face to face, regardless.


Playing dumb, "oh, I didn't give it? Adam Eastman."


Cordially, as he would had in the gay movie star scenario, Adam offers at
the cordial hand.


Taking it, shaking it, Jack says, "it's a real pleasure knowing you."
Slip-of-the-tongue, "Dierk, me and you should get a beer sometime."


"Great," Adam loved the acceptance, "but right now I'd better get to
class..."


Lo and behold, there was his unofficial `servant-slaveboy', "I've got your
stuff for you, sir."


Of that, Jack says, "oh, I heard you were given Dierk's boy. How's he
working out?"


"Cris is doing a fine job," Adam could honestly say. Even if Cris wasn't,
Adam would have said the same. As of yet, he didn't know all the ins and
outs of this slave-servitude thing and felt if anything, Cris could furnish
all the answers.


Not sure what Adam was about, Jack advises, "if he gets out of hand and you
don't know what to do, I can give you some pointers."


Wanting to fit inside the circle, not outside, Adam says, "oh, I'll know
what to do!"


For certain, for Jack's list, Adam had zipped to the top.


Rushing out, Adam saw Jack as a man with a mission. What that detail was,
he hadn't a clue. Most likely scenario, Jack would be rushing to find
Dierk, to fill him in.


"I've got everything," Cris says, carrying both his books and Adam's.


"That's okay, Cris. I can handle my own stuff."


"No," Cris grabbed onto the load Adam already had his hands on, "you don't
understand. You don't know how it would look," Cris instructs `the master',
"it would be like I was shucking my duties."


Rightfully, Adam didn't know all of what was going on, so let it be, "if
you say so."


Adam did manage to throw a smile Cris' way, getting the same in return.


"Thanks!"


"Don't let Dierk hear you say that to me!"


"Say what?"


"Thanks?"


`Oh really?' Adam dwell on, thinking it might be kind of fun, going up
against Dierk. For certain, Dierk was eye candy, fruitful in the eye of the
beholder. Then, it made Adam smile, thinking of Renaldo, how he was told to
deal with bully-boys...though he thought it kind of rough, lifting a knee
up between the legs, which in the long run might put a dude out of
circulation for weeks on end...


Now though, it was Adam's running agility, which kept him following
Cris. He sure had a talented mouth and tongue this morning in the
shower...which got Adam to thinking about that bustling
butt... "Na-a-a-ah!"


Regardless of how Renaldo drew a picture of college life, living in an
all-boy dorm, crawling with bottom wannabe's, Adam already had it set in
his mind, studying first, romance second nature.


Then again, at home he wasn't up against the hot collegiate jungle!


Collision course!


It was bound to happen, Adam paying more attention to Cris' shifty ass
cheeks, than side traffic.


"Who-o-o-oa-nelly!" he called out getting broadsided.


Habit, from his dad's side of the family, his father having a pet horse
when he was a kid.


For Adam and his projectile, picturing it, one guy bouncing off the other,
was not the case. Instead the dude coming at Adam, from the right, caught
an elbow in the stomach.


"Oh shit," the casualty bent over, holding both arms at the belly, books
dropping to the floor.


Never, at least never on purpose had Adam ever hit a dude in the stomach,
he bends over and looks up, "are you okay, there?"


`There' surely was okay, straightening himself up, "sure...would take more
than that to make me cave in."


Difference of opinion, Adam states, "uh, by my understanding, it looked
like you had caved?"


Grasping the full idea of `whom' he crashed into, "yeah, seems to be that
way."


First, Cris looked around for awareness, then, "Adam, can you think about
making friends later," Cris tugged at the `masters' arm.


"Hold your horses, will ya?" Adam shakes Cris' grasp off.


Head swinging, back and forth, from Adam, to Cris and back, "oh, I get
it. You and him are..."


This dude seemed to have more of an understanding than a guy being thrown
into a relationship, without exactly what it entails, "maybe you can
explain it to me?"


Now, that's like providence, trying to find an opportunity to connect later
on, when it falls in one's lap, "I'd like to." After having been handed the
stack of books which fell on the floor, during an embarrassing moment,
juggling occurs to free up a hand, "hi. I'm Benjamin, and I'd love to meet
up with you later."


`Wow, Renaldo was right...these college boys do move fast!'


"Adam," he introduces himself, "and yeah, that'd be cool."


"Have a cell?"


Who didn't!


"Here ya go," Cris says, placing it in Adam's hand.


Adam hadn't even realized it wasn't in his pocket, "here you go," he takes
it out of Cris' hand.


Without asking for it, Benjamin put his cell in Adam's hand.


Each punched numbers in, leaving contact info.


"Great," Benjamin hustled around Adam and seemed to instantly
disappear. Then, like 10 seconds later, ringing down the hall, "see ya
later, Adam!"


"I think we've got a new buddy!"


"`We', Cris?"


Amending his thoughts, like having 2 tops against 1, Cris thinking of
himself as the one to divide his lips between the pair, "I meant, `you.'"


Cheerfully, Adam says, "That's what I thought you didn't mean!"


Just as the bell rings, Adam and Cris walk through the door of
`Civilizations 101', they are greeted, by eyes only, right before the
professor gets his digs in, "late!"


Adam swears the bell rang, with his foot inside the door, "almost, eh?"


The prof looks down at the direction Adam's eyes target.


"I see." Like with `Burg, the history prof singles Adam out, "well, it
being the first day of school and all, I guess I'll let you slide." Seeing
Cris right behind him, "but for you, Mr. Constantino..."


Lack of knowledge, Adam thought the prof was in on the `slavery-system' of
justice, reaches behind and grabs Cris by the shirt, balling it up in a
wad, "uh, he's with me. If I'm late, he's late!"


"I see. Well, take your seats. You're excused today, on account of I know
everyone is not familiar with the campus floor plan."


Right out of college, Professor Peterson had more degrees in History than
he could count. With numerous research papers published, a book on the way,
the one thing he lacked, was the psychology of classroom supervision. It's
why Glen thought he had it in the bag, until this one student had to go and
open his big, fat mouth. For certain, he wasn't going to reach his private
quota of demerits, first day infractions.


Turning to face the green slated board, he writes his name.


Cris whispers, "nice handwriting, eh?"


"Oh, much more than that," Adam joked.


Sitting back, waiting for Prof Peterson's lecture in begin, Adam studied
the frame. He was glad this fall day reflected the temps of July, blaming
it on global warming. Forgetting the weather report, Adam focuses on what
remained after the prof had removed his suit jacket.


Right off, age became a factor, because Prof Peterson didn't seem much
older than an older brother. He guesstimated 27-years, at the most. Other
than a clean face, hair cut short on the sides and the prof's comb pulling
all his hair to one side, there wasn't much else to see. Though, during the
lesson, Adam was distracted by the pull of Peterson's dress shirt, exposing
2 perky pecs!


Fifteen minutes into the lesson, Cris bends his mouth over to Adam's ear to
say, "you don't need to take notes. I've got it."


Glancing to his side, Adam did see the screen of Cris' laptop, "hmm, are
you always this efficient?"


"Depends!" Cris smiles.


There was something in the way Cris' lips curled up, that set Adam to
thinking, this whole arrangement something on the weird side, but
convenient.


Okay, so he was thankful he didn't need to take notes, which he always did
`longhand,' pen and paper.


Upon lecturing on French history, Dr. Peterson did mention something on
`torture'. He did this on purpose. Falling on ears of those whom might have
`an interest'. Purposely he threw in the little tidbit, so he could make
comment as students on their way out, "I expect the next 80 pages read by
tomorrow, or else you'll be on the rack!"


"Oh man," Cris makes comment so only Adam could hear, "that man really
knows how to push a guy's buttons!"


"Really, Cris? Like, what's that about?"


So, history was over and just as they walk on the door, Adam's phone
jingles. One tone or the other, Adam knew he got a text.


`Meet you after school, in the student center?'


This was one time Adam was glad he didn't hold a pile of books, tapping his
iPhone like a hen plucking feed off the ground.


"Got a hot date?" Cris asked, being nosy.


"None of your business!"


A cuteness about Cris, he mutters a childish, "sah-hwee!"


When handed over, from being indentured by Dierk, between freshman and
sophomore status, to his new overseer, Cris sensed quite a different
atmosphere. Right before thinking Adam a nice guy, he inhaled deeply,
exhaled, at his dreamy features. Next important thing, Cris' eyes dropped
to `the package'. From having clothes on, he couldn't tell what Adam was
packin' until showering this morning. Well, it wasn't much of using a bar
of soap, rather feeling just how big Adam could get, wrapped around that
delish piece of sausage!


Other bank of his emotional stream, missing the mistreatment, Cris' balls
sensed a longing for the old ways. However, it's only the first day of
being `enslaved' to Adam and whereas he knew nothing about him, maybe he
could get into it. If Adam lacked interest in that kind of stuff, there
were always others to seek out.


Keeping his own tally sheet, a physical document in `the cloud', Cris
didn't keep research to himself. If approached by another dude, he didn't
mind sharing valuable information. Only itinerary Cris needed, was an idea
of what a dude was into. Friend to friend, to friend, old ones and new ones
he was sure to befriend this year, Cris had a whole spreadsheet worked
up. Smart, since he would make a friend, simply by a friend recommending a
friend to `see' Cris about anything, ranging from a hot hot, fat cock to
suck on, an experimenting top who liked to play with cock, balls or nips,
or the more adventurous, drinking down a load of manmade `lemonade,' or
harsh stuff, roleplaying leading to a whipping or other treatment, all in
the name of getting the juices flowing. Too, Cris had a private account,
for those willing to pay for such services...if Dierk ever found out...


Racing off to the student center, Cris had flashbacks. With guys visiting
Dierk's dorm room, being used, he licks his lips, upon being a cum-dump for
4 guys. Two out of those hot men used him as their play-toy. Before
college, life was dull, Cris only dreaming, with his hand wrapped around
his stiff shaft, stuff on his mind, like...


tied and being force-fucked in the mouth


tied and being worked over by two or three more guys



liking to fuck, be sucked, or using clamps on his nips


other delights, which became the basis for his list of lists of stuff guys
crave


Surely, Cris missed being Dierk's welcome mat. Though, he wasn't making
hasty decisions just yet. Adam might come around to his way of thinking. If
not... `man, is he dreamy!'


%


Dierk might have thought he was tough shit around campus, but unknown to
him, nor anyone else he was about to be toppled from his throne!


Not all of the student population knew, or had interest, in what went on in
secret. Those who knew, hadn't taken advantage, either straight, or more
interest in the educational aspect of college life, making it through on
brainwork, achieving a degree, heading on to paths which would take them on
their journey, post-college.


Inadvertently, Professor Karl Hamburg, through hunches, had brought other
of his colleagues into the unofficial network of sexual and other devices,
which could take the edge off of college life.


Even before the semester began, his sights were set on the newcomer, Coach
Kevin Blye. Best way to describe how Karl looked upon men as `beautiful',
in his mind `Oliver Cohen Jackson', from facial features, to the hairy
front, down south to the rest of him, that was his ideal man. After
cosmetics, what moved a man was of particular interest. Beyond sex, the
theater prof had a kinky side. Like a well-crafted script, he could play a
multitude of parts, mainly based on what the other guy saw himself.


Calling Montclair, New Jersey home, wrapping up a semester, Karl decided
going incognito, into the crowd at Asbury Park Gay Pride. Since he sported
a nice physique, anytime would the appropriate moment to go
shirtless. Light, dirty blond hair covering his pecs, swath over the
stomach, a thin line tying it all together, from mid-chest to the dividing
space between bellyhole and pubes, it would be inconceivable to even think
of Karl as being anything less than a tasty dish. Below the belt housed a
tasty morsel, only deserving men got to sample!


At the pride festival last summer, Karl thought it nervy, this young dude
butting into his shoulder.


"Nerve!" Karl said to no one in particular, a loner at the festival.


Turning around, to see who the guy was, gave Karl an eyeful. Not only that,
the shoulder-butt individual turned head to smile at Karl. His reaction,
Karl squinted eyes, tilted his chin, with look of, `like, what was that all
about?'


He made like he didn't care, turning and going along on his way. Though,
Karl couldn't drop it, wondering what was under the hefty tank top and who
that quirky smile belonged to. Not a revenge-seeker, it was pure curiosity
which made Karl do a u-turn.


Wading through the crowd, he did have the notion to push ahead, tapping a
dude on the shoulder, excusing himself. He had thought the tank-topped
fellow was with another, but seeing him chomping down on a sausage-dog, he
seemed to be alone.


Force of habit, to tidy himself up before meeting a dude he stalked, Karl
pulled the Mack Weldon tee shirt out, from half-stuffed down his pants and
wiped pits and chest. He's never met `Mack', but because he thinks the
threads an awesome fit, always passes on a good product. Karl also thinks
it funny, handing his sweat-soaked shirt to some unsuspecting dude, usually
younger than himself. No fail, he's psyched some teen out, leaving him
wondering why he's holding Karl's tee!


Laughing it off, privately, Karl continues on his quest. Seeing the dude
with the meat in hand, lifting it to his lips, his prank begins. Creeping
up close, an inch or two, where pubes could touch ass, "got some real,
high-grade sausage, if you're interested?!"


Still chewing, the muscle-dude turns around, looks down, glances
upwards. Mustard splattered lips, the face smiles at Karl.


"Is that a `yes' or a `no'?" Then to `get even' for knocking shoulders, "by
the way, your manners are atrocious!"


Karl couldn't believe it, the dude just standing there as he lifted the
tank top, to dab the guy's lips off, "there. Now you look human again."


With his mouth empty, the dude says, "I can't believe you did that?"


"Yeah," Karl acted charmingly giddy, "what can I say?"


His toothy grin turned solemn, when the dude, "oops," suddenly squeezes the
sausage out of the bulky roll, it tumbling down Karl's abs!


Wiping upwards, Karl's hand beheld the damages, handful of mustard and
sauerkraut. His stomach hair portrayed a wavy look, wet hair glued in a
pattern.


On the ground lay the sausage, "I can't believe you..."


"Did that?" same quirky smile on the dude's face.


Reaching to the right of the messy tank-top dude, Karl grabs a few napkins
out of the dispenser, "oh. Sorry," he smiles, wiping his stomach.


By now, some of that soiled stomach residue has now been wiped by the
muscle-dude's shirt.


It wasn't Karl's plan, getting the dude to strip his shirt, but off it
came.


Much to how Karl likes to prank a guy, the dude pulls on his belt buckle
and partially stuffs the tank into his...


"Here, it's yours now!"


"Wait!" Karl calls after the dude, walking away from him. "Aren't you going
to at least tell me your name?"


Truthfully, Karl had thought he blew it, but the dude turns around, walks
back and before bestowing his name on the unsuspecting prof, "Glen," he
smooches. Tearing himself away from Karl's tasty lips, "you?"


Usually Karl would play with a guy, one which really wanted to get to know
him, possibly for his 7c up his butt, `so you really want to know?'


However, different circumstance, "Karl. My place or yours?"


"Maybe we should clean this up first?" Glen says, running a finger down
Karl's chest, to where it got messy.


"Water fountain?"


Glen had other plans, leading Karl to the nearest restroom, which happened
to be in the place he was staying at, The Normandy Inn.


"How suggestive," Karl remarks, eyes turning to the sign above his head,
sticking out from the side of the building Glen has led him to.


Tired of Karl lagging behind, Glen grabs him by the belt buckle, pulling
him inside, "c'mon, you horny bastard!"


Inside, the lobby was furnished with decoration, reminiscent of the period
when knights ruled England.


Joking, Karl says, "complete with dungeon, no doubt!"


All along, the college prof has stepped out of his usual staunch attitude,
much as he would conduct himself in front of a class of students. When he
was into a guy, this how Karl could go off the deep end!


Behind the desk, the owner says, "will you be needing the special room,
sir?" he holds up an oversized wrought iron key.


"Not sure at the moment, Dustin," Glen replies.


The lobby clerk then says, "let me know if you do!"


Karl wasn't sure what the wink meant, but sure he wanted to be in on the
action...whatever that entailed!


Climbing the stairs, it was boxed in on both sides with the same black,
wrought iron. Though, centuries old decor wasn't all on Karl's mind. Duly,
in addition to being led up the staircase to where he suspected their
sexual romp would take place, the swaying of Glen's hips, lent to a
discrete invitation. Karl, his cock pulsed at the invite!


Indeed, after Glen keyed the door to his room, entering, the place dripped
of opulence. For a guy, the pink overtones of the drapes and bedding would
make one, `think', but then again, Glen didn't him much time to `shop',
"strip!"


Of Karl's circle of friends, they all knew he didn't kindly to being
ordered about. Just the opposite, Karl didn't need to say, nor use secret
signs, his presence, decked out fully in leather garments, could send a
message. Now, Karl hadn't the wardrobe affixed to his bod, but still the
attitude, "I beg pardon?"


Maybe it was only fair, tit for tat, Glen already shedding his shorts,
freezes, "you don't want to get it on? I thought that's why we came here?"


"No, no, no...I mean, yes, that's what I thought you meant," Karl replies,
already drawn in by Glen's bulging briefs.


"Good. I'm glad we're on the same page."


So, indeed being on the same page, Karl unbuckles, while shucking
sneakers. He did mash lips together, when Glen turned around and peeled
briefs off over his lovely ass.


Leaning over, `what an invite,' Karl thought.


Glen, fidgeting through a side table drawer, stands. Turning around, he
didn't want Karl to get the wrong impression, "want to put these on me?"


In all due respect, Karl was under the impression things would go the other
way, not which he hasn't been put in the bottom-boy position before, "uh,"
he thumbs down his own briefs, catching a visual reaction, "sure!"


Though, on the plane of bondage and discipline, Karl was still not sure how
this was going to go, Dustin dishing out the orders, "I've got 2 pair of
handcuffs here. You can stretch me out eagle-spread at the foot of the
bed. I checked with Dustin at the desk and the canopy is strong enough to
take some heavy action."


`Take heavy action,' Karl dwell on it as he got fully naked.


When he finished laying out his clothing; pants and briefs on the chair,
socks and sneaks underneath, he saw Glen, placing a pair of cuffs each,
around his wrists.


"You confused me, you know?"


"Just wait a minute. I think I'll be able to clear the air."


Though, a few sniffs of Karl's pit, Glen wasn't sure he was ready to turn
on the blowers.


Karl says, reaching up, stretching Glen's right side, placing the cuff
around the canopy bar, "so, what's your pleasure, as if I didn't already
know?"


Sly, before Karl could get an idea, Glen says, "work my abs with your
fists, for starters?"


Planing a hand down Glen's abs, "work your abs? Anything else?"


"You give me what I want and then you can do whatever you want. Fair
enough?"


Still sketchy on the attitude, "not sure exactly what your plan is..."


Cutting to the chase, "what I want is for you to beat on my abs...it
like...gets the faucet flowing, if you know what I mean?"


Karl knew. In fact, he knew of dozen assorted things to get a man's hard
shaft running like a gooey waterfall, "I guess I'll play it by ear."


And that's what it took, Glen complaining of the tiny sucker punch Karl lay
on his stomach, "that's all you've got?"


Then slowly the momentum began to build, Karl saying each time he punched
Glen's hard abs, "more?"


Not a novice to b.d.s.m. Karl turns up the heat, "bet you can take more
than that, eh boy?"


"Yes sir. Much more."


The give and take banter kept up for awhile, until each started to feel too
good. Then, it ran on automatic, Karl pounding Glen's abs, above the navel,
all around the tiny canals of his abdomen.


Between belches and `feeling good' sounds, Glen put on quite the show for
Karl.


In the end, Karl got what he wanted. Feeling it near time to blow his load,
he uncuffed Glen, allowing him to slack to his knees and fastened the cuffs
midway, at the foot of the bed.


Half-joking, partially in role, Karl ordered for his cock-sucker to open
up.


No joke, such was the force Karl worked Glen's orifice with his 7-inches,
Glen gagged over and over, Karl fucking him hard.


Incidentally, Karl accidentally did something, which at times he's done on
purpose to guys, kicked Glen in the balls. He didn't say he was sorry,
especially when feeling the signs of when something harsh is done to a dude
and he likes it!


%




Copyright 2017 T. Chase McPhee


`SeCReT siGnS' and developing segments of this story, may not be sold, nor
made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author, or you
will be on your knees!