Date: Mon, 4 Feb 2008 11:29:40 -0800 (PST)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: For Sale By Owner 40

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, in towns, cities, countries, nor governmental
areas, 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. Remember guys, this is fiction.
In real life, use protection.

%

"For Sale By Owner" 40
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"Slow morning," Alex tells Ian, standing there with a
towel over his shoulder, just used to brush crumbs
from his previous customer's table.

Picking a crumb off of Alex's chest, Ian says, "Don't
think I'm getting randy with you."

"Oh palease," Alex enunciated in a fem manner, then
his regular manly demeanor, "I've had enough of that
for one weekend."

Of course Ian stood there, expecting more. With Alex
not responding, Ian pleads, "Um, like don't leave me
hanging here."

For the second time today, Alex spilled the events of
the past night-early morning, focusing on the episode
of Einan's kiss.
"Kyle says it's nothing, but...."

"I think Kyle's right."

"You do?" Alex replies, almost wanting to here the
opposite.

"Sure. To me it sounds like an innocent kiss." Since
it was getting Ian a little horned up, he asks, "You
two didn't fuck around did you?"

"Did I say we fucked around, Ian?"

"Um no... uh, maybe you didn't get to that part of the
story?"

"Nothing like that happened. There's only one guy I'm
interested in fucking and.... and... it's none of your
business!"

As Alex marched away, towards the kitchen, Ian pleads,
"Hey, I didn't mean anything by it...."

Voices trailing off, disconnected by the kitchen door
slamming shut, two patrons enter, one searching the
interiors of the Coffee Bean. With business slow at
the take out counter Jim offered himself up as
matre'd, with not seeing Ian, Alex, nor Derek flocking
to greet the two gentlemen. He already knew the
identity of one of the two, addressing him, "Good
morning Mr. Braddock."

After the department store mogul greets him, Jim
directs to Braddock, even though his eyes were on the
other gentleman, "I suppose you would like your usual
waiter?"

Not an idiot to the attention his guest is giving Jim,
Stephen Braddock first introduces, "My new store
manager for our Manhattan location..."

"Nice to meet you," came the response from Jim, a both
his hands shaking the young executive, "I'm Jim
Stooksbury."

Smiling, the unknown gentleman sideswiped Braddock's
introduction with, "David Sonnemaker," adding teeth to
his drop-dead gorgeous grin, "nice to make your
aquaintance as well."

Braddock just shook his head, finding his own table,
the same one he's had unofficially reserved for the
past several years.
In about a minute, Jim had escorted David to the same
location, saying, "I'll get Alex right away."

"And I thought you would be our waiter?" David said, a
little whimper to his request.

"If it's not too busy at the coffee bar, I suppose I
could help out?" Jim did a repeat turn, as when he
started walking away, David gave him a gentle pat on
the ass.

Immediately, Stephen comments to David, "Don't you
have enough boys to play with?"

Adjusting his linen napkin on his lap, the new manager
states, "I dunno," then glances back at Jim in action
at the coffee bar, "he seems like a willing soul. He
could be fun to play with."

"Boys and their toys," is all Braddock could say.

"Like I said, Stephen, anytime you want some S&M
action the invitation stands."

After sipping his water, Stephen inquires, "Just for
curiosity sake, do you carry your private time over
into your work environment?"

"Depends. Like we talked last week about it. Some guys
are just wanting to be owned."

Braddock, without a clue to the workings of the world
of BDSM, sat back, reconfigured his napkin in his lap
then let his eyes stray over to the coffee bar.

With a big grin on his lips, David suggests, "Some
guys love it, having two masters?"

Even though the thought seemed inviting, Stephen made
excuse, "For your information, I was looking for
Alex!"

David knew otherwise, but let it go over his head.

"Good morning Mr. Braddock," the cheery greeting came
from the opposite end of the cafe.

"Shit," came from David's lips, hardly audibly, but
his gasp of surprise when Alex greeted the two. Right
away, the twenty-six year old exec's eyes were all
over Alex.

"I'll be right with you. I just have to take this into
the kitchen."

David's neck stretched all the way around, following
Alex from their table, across the cafe and disappear
into the kitchen. "Fuck, would I like to see that stud
dressed up in leather!"

"You can forget it right now, David. Alex Norguet is a
serious young man, from the sticks of Pennsy, probably
never even aware of the games you like to play. So
take my word and don't pursue it. Besides he's got a
boyfriend already."

"Maybe he doesn't know what he's missing?" David more
openly pursues. "He's sure got my rocks going!"

"Like I said," Braddock drummed into David's brain.
"He's not into it, so you can forget about introducing
him to any of your little playmates."

But David wasn't forgetting about it, as his napkin in
his lap developed a little point to it. As the two
sipped their water and carried on with business talk,
David could only daydream of Alex, decked out in
chaps, a harness and toting a whip, the epitomy of a
full-fledged master.

%

"I'm sorry, but Mr. Braddock is unavailable," the
young man behind the desk informed Kyle, talking on
Scott's behalf as well.

Checking his watch, Kyle then asks, "I bet Stephen
hasn't returned from the Coffee Bean, has he?"

Still, the secretary wouldn't give out any classified
information, again in a business-like manner, "I'm
sorry but I'm not at liberty to tell you of Mr.
Braddock's whereabouts."

Out of the corner of his mouth, Kyle leaks to Scott,
almost in a whisper, "At least we found out he's not
here. Let's go."

Totally out of character for Scott, Kyle stopped short
in his tracks, as his buddy looks back over his
shoulder and remarks, "He deserves a good whipping!"

"Whipping?" Kyle questioned, as Scott still trained
his eyes on the secretary after his bold statement.

"Never mind," Scott replied, returning to his subtle
way of talking.

As the elevator opened, a mix of employees and
customers filtered out. The two stepped in, followed
by another guy, decked out in a suit and tie.

"Asshole, isn't he?"

Kyle and Scott acted like they didn't know who the guy
was talking about, though they had their suspicions.

Now the story came out, "Braddock's secretary," the
older gentleman said roughly. "Somebody oughta take
the little twerp over their knee and give him a
spanking!"

Rough and funny at the same time, Kyle and Scott
couldn't contain their laughter. Kyle became third
wheel to the conversation, as Scott returns to his
bold character, "I agree."

"You do do you?" The man became suddenly interested in
Scott. After shrugging his shoulders, he coaxed Scott
onwards, saying, "Yeah... I could hold the bastard
down and you make his ass red as a chile!"

This time the older guy laughed at his own joke, same
time waiting to see what Scott's reaction was. At same
time, Scott was feeling him out. "Could be fun."

"Fun?" Kyle thought more than said it, though a slight
pitch left his mouth.

Sticking his hand out, Scott first looked at it, then
offered his when the stranger introduced himself,
"Marat Favreau and you are?"

"Scott Broyles."

No attention was shone to Kyle by Favreau, til the
elevator reached the lobby.

"How about I buy you two a cup of coffee?"

Parading from the back of Braddock's Department Store,
to the front, Favreau pointed out jackets, pants,
shirts, ties, everything down to briefs and socks, all
with his logo imprinted on the inner label.

Kyle, still trying to get in on the conversation, at
least to offer his name, asks, "So you're a designer,
I take it?"

Favreau acknowledged Kyle, but his attention was on
Scott. After hailing a cab, the three were whisked
downtown, parking in front of the Coffee Bean. Scott
took a double take, eyes wide as saucers when Favreau
handed the driver a hundred dollar bill, almost
demanding him to `wait'. Kyle smiled, knowing Scott
wasn't used to this type of lifestyle. Once inside,
the three made a beeline for Braddock's table. Before
Kyle could even greet Stephen, Favreau said to him,
"Do me a favor and grab us a chair, kid." Marat made
sure Scott had a chair to sit on before he sat himself
down. After introducing Scott to Stephen, Marat began
chatting with David.

"Looks like we've got a new top-man to add to our
group."

In reality, Scott didn't know what the hell Marat
Favreau was talking about. Obviously, his ideas on how
Braddock's secretary should be reprimanded struck him
as how he himself had been treated by his own father,
more abuse than wisdom dished out. "What's S&M?"

Stephen Braddock, already bored with the subject,
excused himself to find Kyle which he spotted coming
in, but not approaching their table. Asking Derek,
Braddock headed for the kitchen door. Even though
Derek made it federal offense to enter, Braddock
shooing off his response, applying his words to the
first waiter he saw, "So there you are!"

Right away, Kyle steps up to Stephen and more or less
demands, "Who's the whacko with Scott?"

Alex standing nearby, assembling a tray of orange
juice, laughs. Apparently Kyle had cued him into
everything happening from the secretary's station, the
elevator chat, cab ride, to entering the Coffee Bean.
In a few morsels of wording, Kyle gave Stephen the
short version, Stephen brushing it off as a little fun
Marat and David have going.

"Group? What kind of group?" Alex asks, his hands busy
filling little glasses with orange juice.

Brushing past Kyle, Stephen smiles like he has inside
information, which he does, "And you!"

"What about me?" Alex asks, still his attention on not
making the juice glasses overflow.

"On, does David Sonnemaker have his eye on you!"

"Alex?" Kyle questions, a bit perturbed. "Well you
just go out there and tell David Sonna-whatever to get
his eyes off of Alex!"

Squaring it with both of them, Stephen went on to
explain, placing David's liking for Alex as part of
the S&M scene. Both accepted his remarks, Kyle
lightening up, making sport of the idea. "Could be
fun." Then with his bod closer to Alex, "might be fun
being your slaveboy!"

It made Alex smile, as he broke off the tangent, "Well
some of us have to work to make a buck, so if you will
excuse me?"

Watching Alex and Kyle leave the kitchen, Stephen
developed a tendency to see where David Sonnemaker
came from, regarding his S&M remarks. In a way he was
proud of himself, at pegging Kyle the submissive and
Alex the dominant master. At a slower pace he walked
from the kitchen to their table, visually in his mind
seeing Alex in a leather outfit, which David
described, Kyle stripped naked and on his knees before
Master Alex!

"Tell me, young man..." David Sonnemaker started in on
conversing with Alex, which Stephen Braddock
reluctantly filled in the missing name. "Yes, Alex,
what time would you be getting off work today?"

"Tonight," Alex corrected him as he busily dealt out
the small glasses of OJ, taking an interest in Scott's
presence among the big-wigs.

"Tonight. Yes," Sonnemaker continued badgering him,
"what time would you be leaving here, Alex?"

It wouldn't be the first honery customer Alex had had
to deal with, but he felt David Sonnemaker was going
over the limit, digging into his personal life. With
Kyle and Stephen Braddock filling him in, he pretty
much knew where all this was headed, so spoke his
mind. "Look, no disrespect intended Mr. Sonnemaker,
but I'm not really into your dsbm games, so... so have
you thought about what you would like to order?"

Stephen Braddock giggled, drawing Alex's attention for
a moment, at the store manager's face, jaw dropped
open, starring up at Alex. He also thought, `two
points' for Alex, as he totally ignored David's
reaction, taking out his leather pad, readying to
write their order.

"Excuse me a moment," David Sonnemaker said. "Nature
call," he alluded to, drawing his chair back, placing
his napkin from his lap on the table and walking away
towards the `free zone', path to the jon.

Not feeling any remorse towards Sonnemaker, Alex felt
he embarrassed Stephen, saying, "Sorry about that Mr.
Braddock, but..."

Shooing his feelings away with his hand, Braddock
cheerfully states, "Alex my boy, don't think anything
of it. You've just made my day!"

Marat Favreau and Scott sat there, ignoring the two,
off on a conversation of their own.

A lull in the cafe bar business, Jim Callman put down
the ceramic cup he was drying, looked around and
proceeded to head towards the jon. Small, it could fit
about three patrons at a time. Again, as his hand was
placed on the knob, he gazed around his immediate
surroundings, hesitating before entering.

With only one stall, it recently became occupied by
David Sonnemaker, not for the purpose of taking a
crap, but rather release for his pent up emotions.

Holding the door closed, Jim pressed in the handle
button, locking it. Wandering over towards the closed
door of the only stall, he vented his collar, trying
to get up enough nerve to answer the call of moans
coming from behind the gray door. As with any customer
he cordially offered, "Um, you okay in there?"

There was no way he could see the evil grin come over
David Sonnemaker's face, unless he was standing at an
open door.

"Why don't you come in and find out?"

The cat and mouse game came into play, Jim testing the
stall door to see if it was locked. With a minimal
amount of pressure it gave way to the inside of the
rather spacious handicapped stall. David smiled when
he looked at Jim, all eyes to him holding his cock in
his hand, pants split open, briefs anchored under his
big balls.

Nervously Jim asks, "I just thought maybe you might
have felt sick or something," he gulped, "after
eating....something."

As has happened a hundred or so times within the past
few years, backing up to teenhood, the twenty-six year
old `Braddock' manager read Jim's wants and needs as
if knowing the twenty-four year old from way back.
"You want it boy, go for it."

Still gazing on Sonnemaker's fully firmed up shaft,
Jim replies, "I... I've never done anything like
this... I... I'm not even gay."

Giggling, as if Jim told a joke, the six foot tall,
dark-haired patron replies, "Gay has nothing to do
with it." Then he spells out, "Being owned is the key
here, `boy'. Why don't you just get down on your knees
while you're thinking whether or not my beefy nine
inches interests you enough to taste it?"

"Taste?" Jim questions, breaking his gaze from pubes
to face.

After a small giggle, evil in tone, Sonnemaker places
the suggestion in Jim's mind, "You wouldn't have
bothered pushing the door open if you weren't curious.
I'm giving you the chance. Go ahead. Take it."

It wasn't terribly hot in the jon, what with the air
spinning around from the ventilator grills, but Jim
sweated profusely, as he wiped his palms on his dress
slacks, feeling a chill from the sweat built up under
his shirt.

As a last ditch effort, David goes to stuff his cock
back into his black Favreau briefs, stating, "I guess
I had you figured all wrong."

"No, wait!" Jim called out nervously. He paused after
advancing three steps. He repeated David's directions
questioning, "On my knees?"

Knowing his assumptions correct, David's hand firmly
withdraws his cock from his briefs, again anchoring
them under his balls, with the notion, "Being on your
knees is the usual protocol for a boy wanting to be
owned."

Really not getting the whole gist of what Sonnemaker
presented, `getting down on his knees', `protocol'
(for what?), `boy' and `wanting to be owned', all Jim
knew is he wanted something. With all the talk around
the Coffee Bean about gay guys and knowing what gay
guys do with each other has had Jim wondering about
oral sex with a guy. Now the situation presented
itself.

"You `want' to be owned, don't you `boy'?"

Jim didn't know about the `owned' business, but for
sure he had an insatiable desire to try out what he
heard gay boys do to each other. If it meant doing it
on his knees, didn't phase him. All Jim knew is he had
the lust to at least take one lick.

As he sank to his knees, Sonnemaker talked him through
every step, "That's right and now open your mouth
boy... open it wide."

Mesmerized by the soothing voice, after his knees hit
the tiled floor, Jim propped open his mouth.

"If you want it, kiss it first, boy."

Looking up, Jim wasn't sure about that part, but
David's reassuring smile made it seem like a friendly
act.

Coaxing him on, David tells him, "Go ahead. There's
isn't anyone here but you and I, boy." As a
precaution, he adds, "I hope you locked the door?"

"Yeah, I locked it."

"Locked it, `sir'," David dived deeper into the realm
of discipline.

"I locked it, Sir," Jim replied.

It was at that point David Sonnemaker knew he had
Jim... owned him. It didn't take much instruction
after Jim pursed his lips and kissed the head of the
nine inch nail. Beyond that, it wasn't a chore to open
his mouth, lick over the piss slit, then take the cock
into his mouth. Though David had Jim at his feet, in
his mind he pictured himself as Alex!

%

"I had an okay day," Devon chatted with Dominic on his
cell, long distance from the Deal, NJ home, to the
brownstone, 2nd floor, sitting comfortably on the
sofa.

`The three stooges keeping you busy?' Dominic
questions, injecting laughter.

"You better believe it, Dominic. In and out... in and
out... there's never a moment's peace with Raj, Dustin
and Lance underfoot, but you know what?"

On the other end Dominic asks, `What?'

"Even though it's not you here, I'm kind of liking the
company."

Through the phone Dominic shot a kiss, along with
regrets he had to do some personal business down the
shore, but would be back by the weekend.

"Miss-you," Devon shot back with, before hanging up.

"Um, there's no more shampoo in the shower. Do you
know where Dom keeps it?"

Rolling over on his back, Devon just stared at Dustin,
towel in place around his waist.

"Um, the shampoo, Dev?"

"Yeah. Let me see if I can dig it up for you," he
replied, walking past Lance, purposefully tugging at
the towel, making it slip right off his former
high-school-mate's torso.

"Didn't get enough of a look at me in the lockerroom,
eh Dev?"

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Devon questions
Dustin's motives, bending over and looking in the
bottom of the vanity.

Giggling, making it sound off the cuff, Dustin
replies, "Like none of us knew each other was gay."

"When we were sixteen, we didn't even know what gay
meant!"

"Yeah," Dustin reflects back over the past four years.
"But just knowing I had a preference for boys, doesn't
matter what you call it."

Donning his shorts and tank top, Devon stands there,
shampoo container in hand, asking, "Just for
curiousity sake, did I happen to be one of those
`boys'?"

Summing it all up, with a wry smile, Dustin replies,
"I should've grabbed you up while I had my chance...
before Dominic made his move on you."

"Oh, so you did have feelings for me?" Devon asks,
parking his ass on the rim of the vanity, legs
crossed, Dustin getting comfortable on the closed
toliet seat.

Frozen in place, a smile on his face, Dustin thought
about how it could have been, if both were out in
their whole senior year. "I don't know what took you
so long to come out?"

"Me? Why did it have to be me to be the first... well
okay, we all knew Alex was."

"Yeah. I guess we really have Alex to thank for
drawing us all out of the closet," Dustin replies,
thinking of the first pair of briefs sighted in the
lockerroom before a swim competition.

Giggling, Devon says, "Yeah, I can't believe it took a
pair of chintzy briefs start a chain reaction."

"Though I have to give you credit, Dev, being the one
to follow in Alex's footsteps," Dustin says frankly.

"Yeah, well. I'm glad it happened the way it
happened," Devon replied.

"Right. You really gave us all something gawk at when
you came out with it at the pizza joint."

Stuttering, Devon admitted to it, "Um yeah. Right," he
said.

His eighteen year old former swim-bud suddenly had
different thoughts. "Unless you came out to somebody
ahead of time?"

"What do you mean?" Devon got on the defensive.

"Well, I'm only saying... um, you and Alex were good
friends and..."

Warring minds took over, Devon on the rebuttal, "Oh
really? And wasn't it you and Ricky Gonzales, who
later came out, good buddies?"

Honestly, Dustin had no idea anybody knew about their
`friendship'.

"You knew about Ricky and me?"

Devon starts giggling, revealing, "No, but I do now!"

"Bitch! I oughta..."

Jumping up from his throne, Dustin meets Devon headon,
Devon asking, "You oughta what?"

Their humorous approach with each other settled down
to a more serious frame of mind. Not moving a muscle,
Devon leaned against the vanity, arms folded across
his chest, not flinching a muscle as Dustin stepped up
to him, straddled his crossed legs, stood there,
staring. He placed his hands on Devon's biceps.

Opening his arms, Devon pushed himself up to a
standing position, his hands prying his butt off the
ledge of the vanity. "It's too late," he says to
Dustin, almost sorry it was.

"Yeah. But I wonder what it would have been like,"
Dustin says, not only for his own benefit.

Looking down at Dustin's blond fur covering, around
navel height, Devon follows the golden trail up to
where it fans over his pecs, right up to where it
abruptly ends at the base of Dustin's neck. After a
brief smile, Devon says, "I don't know how I managed
to let a hot stud slip away from me."

"I know this is wrong Dev and I prolly have no
business asking, but... well..."

It seemed Devon knew all too well what Dustin was
getting at. Lifting his hands from bracing his bod
against the vanity, Devon places them on Dustin's bare
torso. Leaning in, pulling Dustin's bod closer to his,
pec fur meets tank top, as the two exchange a sweet
kiss. Dustin's hands work their way in between Devon's
arms and torso, lifting his tank top. As the kiss
lingers on, Dustin slowly raises the tank top up.
Breaking their kiss, Devon says, "Sorry Dustin. I...
I've already gone too far."

Backing off, Dustin says, "Yeah. Okay. At least I got
a sample of what I'm missing. Dom sure is a lucky
guy."

"I am too, to have a friend like you," Devon replies,
offering a small pec on his cheek.

Feeling it up, Dustin jokes, "I'm going to go and have
that bronzed!"

%

Copyright 2008 T. Chase McPhee
This story may not be sold, nor made part of any
collection, without prior consent from the author.