Date: Tue, 5 Aug 2008 11:56:15 -0700 (PDT)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: FOR SALE BY OWNER 53

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, nor governmental areas, which the story is stages. If a
sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offences 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.

FOR SALE BY OWNER 53
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"I didn't know rolling in the hay could be so dangerous!"

"I think I'll live," Jack replied as Jim looked deeply into his eye,
looking for more than love this time.

"You don't think we should go see a doctor?"

"Nah. I'm sure whatever is in there will come out if I just blink a few
times."

Straying, Jim says, "Well I'm sorry we came so close and you never... you
know." He glanced at Jack's basket of eggs.

"You're not sticking around?" Jack questioned him, turning from the jon
mirror as his two hands grabbed the sides of the sink basin.

"I'm not going anywhere. That is unless you want me to... go?"

"You're not going anywhere," Jack replied in an authoritative manner, then
quibbered, "Ouch.. ouch.. ouch..."

"Forget it. We're getting you to a doctor. Where's the truck keys?"

Jack had to stop and think a moment. In all of his teen and adult life he's
never had anybody as much as suggest him to do something in such an
authoritative manner, other than the CEO at the parole division he worked
for.

With a keen sense of what was running through Jack's mind, Jim said, "Look,
this doesn't have anything to do with life's little fantasies. You need
some medical attention and we need to get you there. For sure you're not
driving with your eye like that!"

It was a new part of Jim he hadn't seen yet, the 'take charge'
attitude. Creasing his lips, Jack relented, "Down in the kitchen hanging on
the key rack behind the door."

"Good. You get dressed and I'll meet you downstairs," Jim directed,
grabbing his jeans and tee shirt. Then sticking his head back in the door,
"You can make it down the stairs on your own?"

"If you hear a big thud, come running!"

Walking back in the room, Jim said, "Don't go kidding about stuff like
that. If you need my help I'm here for you."

His hand on Jack's bare shoulder felt like a heating pad. He began to do
what he set out to do before, kiss Jim, but it seemed like any movement of
his face touched off the pang in his eye. "Ouch... ouch... ouch-dammit!
Ouch!"

"Get your clothes on. I'll meet you out front."

However, as Jack approached the top landing of the stairs, there Jim stood
at the bottom.

"I thought you said you were going to meet me outside?"

"Just think Jack. If you fall and break your neck you'll never get to
string me up to the whipping post!"

"Wrong. If you get as much as one scratch on my truck, I'll be stringing
you up!"

Natural to his already eager thinking, the little voice inside Jim's head
told, `Take a rock and make a little scratch on the bumper!' "Nah," he said
out loud to himself.

%

"I forget. Why are we going downtown?"

"Scotty, you've got too much 'Reiko' on your brain!" Kyle replied.

"Don't you think he's cute?"

"Cute Scotty? Unn-uh. He's outright damn gorgeous! Oh man, when he took his
shirt off in the kitchen...."

"Yeah, he does have a nice set of abs, doesn't he?"

"And pecs and legs and... well I'm sure you know about the parts under his
shorts," Kyle says, taking a quick glance away from the windshield.

"Actually I don't, for your information."

"Oh? Then what about the hour you took putting Reiko's bike away in the
guest room?"

"It wasn't any hour, Kyle and you know it!" Scott said with accusation.

"Okay, so forty minutes."

"Not even that. Try fifteen?"

"A lot can happen in fifteen minutes."

"Kyle, Reiko's not like that. He's a kind and gentle guy. He's not some
wolf who's ready to get into the sheep's clothing."

"Or the sheep getting under the wolf's fur?"

"Kyle, you're being a dork!"

Kyle had to laugh at the word Scott used, totally out of his vocabulary to
state such a thing.

"I never considered myself a dork... oh excuse me... look."

"Where?"

While stopped at the red light, Kyle points out of the windshield, "The two
guys over there waiting for the bus?"

"The blond guy looks kind of nice."

"Nice, Scotty? He's like a walking bombshell!"

Then like he had to defend, Scott says, "I think Reiko is a bombshell."

Before stepping on the gas, Kyle tells Scott, "You know it's alright to say
something cool about another guy even though you like one a lot?"

"I like Reiko. I feel a sense of security around him, like nothing can
happen to me. Also....well we did kiss while in the guest room."

"Aha! So you did get down to some..."

"But none of that. Reiko is a sweet guy. He's not in any hurry to get into
bed. I kind of like that in him. As far as even paying attention to another
guy?  I don't want to do anything to jeopardize what we have going."

"I know Scotty," Kyle replied, thinking back to the story of how Scott was
betrayed by a friend, beaten up because he was gay, ostracized by his
peers, making his senior year in high school a living hell. "Nobody
deserves a better break than you do. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks Kyle and I'm real glad I met you at registration. I'm glad to have
you and the other guys as my friends."

"Let's not get into that Scotty. Um, what's for dinner tonight anyway?"

Scott held allegiance to Reiko, but there wasn't much he would not do for
Kyle. For now, planning and making the meals was an act of pleasure and
payback for all the kindness Kyle has rendered.

"Reiko has invited me out to some swanky party. You don't mind, do you?"
Scott said, waiting for a reply as if asking his father.

"You don't need my permission. Hey, I think it's great. You're new to New
York and already you're getting around, Scotty. A bonus is you have such a
hunky guy's arm to hold on to."

Smiling, Scott said, "Right."

"So have you thought about what you're toing to wear?" Kyle asks, stopping
at the next corner, making a right and heading west for a block, turning
right again, heading up Park Ave.

"I thought you were going downtown to pick up something for Alex?"

"I was. But now we're going uptown. If you're going out you're going to
need something dazzling to wear of course."

He knew Kyle was tired of hearing it, Scott wearing out the phrase, but he
was self conscious of the fact so blurted out, "You're forgetting something
again, Kyle?"

"Yes and you're forgetting about what I said about it!"

"Okay," Scott surrendered, thinking of when four or five or whatever years
passed, how he was going to manage to pay Kyle back for the thousands of
dollars he was spending on his behalf, for school tuition and now whatever
men's shop they were ready to descend upon. "Where are we going?"

"For your first date with Reiko we need to deck you out in something
special."

His hand tearing at Kyle's arm for his attention, Scott said, "Oh, one
thing. Reiko said dress semi-casual. What do you think he meant by that?"

"We'll think about it after we see what they've got. One thing though."

"What's that?"

"Do me a favor Scotty and don't look at the price tag of everything in the
shop?"

"I've gotta see what it cost so that when I pay you back I know how much
I'm spending," Scott returned, somewhat whimsically.

"You can figure it out after we get home. Just promise me this?" Kyle
almost begged, knowing Scott wasn't use to shopping anywhere but maybe Wal-
or Kmart.

"Okaaaay," Scott replied, his voice trailing in a low tone.

"Hold on to your lugnuts!"

Suddenly Scott's stomach seemed to lurch upwards, cramming into his
throat. After Kyle jammed on the accelerator, tires screeching, he expertly
parked his car in between two other late models.

"Cool! I thought we would be looking for hours for a space," he said,
throwing it into park. "Whatsamatter, Scotty? You look like you wanna
barf!"

"Oh nothing. It's just that I never was a passenger in a car that went from
fifteen to eighty in two seconds!"

"I wasn't going eighty. C'mon."

Out of the car, Kyle was around the front, holding Scott's door for him.

"Thanks. Where are we going?"

"Right here!"

Looking up at the storefront, Scott made out, "Braddock's?"

Hauling him on by the arm, Kyle guides him from sidewalk to the front door.

"Thanks," Scott says, looking back, paying more attention to the guy who
held the door for them, returning the smile. Then to Kyle, he asks, "From
the way you talked I thought Braddock's had everything?"

"A little known, hidden secret. This Braddock's is only for men."

"Serviced only by men?" Scott comments, looking about, seeing only men
behind counters.

"Forget about Reiko already, huh?"

Punching Kyle in the arm, Scott says, "It was you who said it was okay to
look at other men!"

"I know. C'mon. I have some cool threads I want you to try on."

While Kyle chatted with a salesman, Scott unearthed a ticket on a
mannequin, shoved way up the sleeve of a jacket. When the salesman turned
to Scott, he innocently asked, "Eight hundred dollars for a suit?"

The guy replied, "Um no. The jacket and pants are separate."

"Eight hundred dollars for a shirt?" Scott said, eyes as big as
saucers. "Kyle, did you..."

"He's such a kidder," Kyle said, breaking out in laughter.

When the salesman led them away, Kyle scolded Scott, "What'd I tell you
about checking out prices?"

"Sorry, but it seems like an awful lot of money. My last suit my mom paid
eighty bucks. She even got the shirt half price!" Next order of business,
he asks Kyle, "Is he going to be waiting on us?"

"Yeah. Cute isn't he?"

"Right this way sir," he said, the suited twenty-something guy leading them
through the aisles of fabrics, all coordinated for a certain appeal.

"Nice swimmer's build, huh?" Kyle softly said to Scott.

"Swimmer's build?"

"Swimmer's? You know.... broad-shouldered, a 'V' shape to the waist," Kyle
replies, his two index fingers mapping out the shape of the salesman's rear
view.

"It's hard to tell with the jacket."

Kyle smirked, saying, "Use a little imagination!"

Using his imagination, Scott came back with, "I thought we were shopping
for clothes."

"How about something along these lines?" the salesman held out a shiny
fabric suit jacket.

"How much?" Scott slipped out.

Kyle's hand floated over his face in embarrassment as he said, "I give up
Scotty."

Placing the jacket back on the rack, the salesman smiled, saying,
"Scotty. That's a nice name. Y'know I may work at Braddock's but I sure
don't make the salary to shop here." From his high-mannered perch, the
salesman seemed to slide down to Scott's level of shopping.

"So where do you shop?" Scott asked as Kyle began recovering.

"Wherever I can find a bargain. Sometimes it's here at Braddock's. If
something doesn't sell they ship it out to the main store. Sometimes
Mr. Braddock will give us guys a break on it, but not me. Oh no," the
talkative salesman went on, "I'm doing graduate work at NYU and that spells
big bucks!"

"What's your field of study?" Scott asked as Kyle began to fade into the
racks as if lost in the jungle.

"Well first I don't think it's fair I know your name and you don't know
mine. I'm Mathieu Berdeau."

"Matthew?" Scott repeated, knowing he didn't say it right.

"No. Mat-tee-ooh. Say it slow then faster at the end."

'Isn't this sweet?' Kyle thought, standing there leaning with his elbow on
the crosspiece of one of the wooden racks. 'I came all the way uptown to
shop for Scotty and he's taking French lessons from some hunk!' "Um, I hate
to rush you Scotty, but we've got to get downtown yet to pick up Alex's
birthday present?"

"I'm so sorry," Mathieu apologized, seemingly to Scotty only.

"It's no problem, but Kyle's not the only one who has places to go."

As Mathieu held up a pink shirt, Kyle rejected it. Mathieu made small talk,
"So what big affair do you have this evening?"

"My boyfriend... I mean my friend..." Scott studdered.

"I've got one too."

"You're gay?" Scott came out with.

Kyle rolled his eyes, saying to himself, 'Oh boy. This is going to be one
long shopping trip!' "Um, Scotty can we hurry it up? Martha's going to be
waiting for me if we don't put on a hustle?"

"Martha who?" Scott and Mathieru both said at once, looking at each other
and then breaking out in giggles like two eight year olds.

"Martha Stewart? She's meeting me downtown to pick out a sewing machine for
Alex?"

Scott looked plainly puzzled, but Mathieu stood there with his jaw hanging
down. "You know 'thee' Martha Stewart?"

Casually, Scott says, "Kyle knows everybody. Him and Stephen Braddock are
like this," he held two fingers up, crossing them.

"You know my boss? Holy cow!"

Kyle wondered why he even bothered to open his mouth. However as they
shopped little shopping was done, Scott and Mathieu chit-chatting away as
if old high school buds at a class reunion. Kyle had to give Mathieu credit
for one thing. When Scott mentioned the one fact Kyle hadn't even known,
that he and Reiko were dining at the 'Roof', the elegant eatery atop the
Gramercy Hotel, Mathieu immediately directed Scott, arm around his
shoulder, whisking him away to the Dolce & Gabbana shop of Braddock's. He
also credited Mathieu with working so fast, having Scott stationery at the
changing room, tossing shirts and pants over the door asking, "How did this
fit?" or "How did that fit?" or sometimes Mathieu would take the liberty of
staring over as Scott zipped up a pair of slacks, before the shirt went on.

Kyle again rolled his eyes when Scott made a play on words, "You know my
name and I know yours. You've seen my chest, when do I get to see yours,
Mathieu?"

In seconds Mathieu had a little white card out, jotting down his cell phone
number and email.

It took three salesmen, all under Mathieu's direction to bring bags and
boxes out from Braddock's and stuffing Kyle's trunk and back seat. Two
minutes after the trunk was closed, Scott lingered outside the Sebring,
chatting away with the lone salesman.

Unrolling the passenger window, Kyle yelled out, "We've got to get a move
on it Scotty!" 'Should've minded my own business', he said to himself as
his words fell on deaf ears.

"Call me tonight?" he heard Mathieu say.

Scott replyed, "What about your boyfriend?"

"Friend. Not boyfriend," Kyle heard Mathieu plainly say.

"Could be late," Scott shouted above the sound of his door slamming
shut. "Hold on a sec," Scott said to Kyle, grasping Kyle's wrist like a
handcuff as his other hand depressed the open button for the window.

"Late is fine," Mathieu seemed to shout into the vehicle, as he closed
Scott inside. "Nice meeting you, um..."

Kyle said, "Kyle."

%

"I've heard of them, read about them, but never saw them this far up
close," Vince said, standing outside the entrance to the Waldorf Towers,
the most elegant living space in New York City, between 49th and 50th
streets.

"Neck stiff yet, Vince?" Jason joked.

"Are you guys going to stand out here all day?" Jarrett prodded as he stood
midway between in and out, as a hunky guy in hotel uniform held the door
open.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Vince said to the thirty-something looking
door valet.

"I assure you it's no problem sir," The door jockey replied, adding a smile
and a wink.

"Hmm," Vince said, returning the smile.

Seemingly making an instant connection, the door guy offers, "The hotel
wishes to serve and accomodate to the fullest extent during your stay,
sir."

"Very hospitable of you," Vince read the little etched-out brass-nickel
badge, "Cliff."

He smiled even though Vince shortened the 'Clifford'.

So enthralled with Cliff, Vince didn't respond in his usual negativeness
when Jarrett hurried him, "Um Vince, like today?" But he did joke with
Cliff, responding, "I'm gonna smack that kid!"

Cliff dared say, "Smack huh? I could go for some of that!"

Vince wasn't sure to what respect Cliff meant it, but replied, "Great. Then
maybe I'll see you later, huh?"

As he felt a tingling in his uniformed pants, Cliff was way ahead of Vince,
saying to himself, 'You can count on it.'

"So, are you all checked in?" Vince joked with Jarrett, seeing the desk
clerk hand him a credit card-sized key.

"You're checked in," Jarrett replied.

"Me?"

Snatching the card from Jarrett's clutches, the hotel clerk smiles at
Vince. "I was under the impression your son..." he stopped, realizing
Jarrett couldn't possibly be Vince's son, "brother? Was checking in?"

Slapping Vince up against the stomach with the back of his hand, Jarrett
remarks, "Oh pa-leese! Me a brother to this tub-of-lard?"

Startled, Vince turned away from the desk when he heard over his shoulder,
"We'll be addressing that issue later I'm sure."

"Will we now Cliff?" Vince said with a smile when he came face to face with
the doorman.

"If he's all set I'll take care of his luggage, Ron," Cliff said to the
deskman. However, searching around Vince's personage he discovered only the
patterned carpet. "I take it your luggage will be forwarded later, sir?"

"Much later," Vince replied, totally smitten with the hunk standing before
him, maybe an inch taller than the top of his head.

"Maybe I can take your coat, sir?"

With tongue in cheek, as he peeled the insulated windbreaker from his
shoulders, Vince wondered what it would be like being stripped by
Cliff. Better yet, returning the favor!

Getting quickly bored, Jarrett says to Jason, "C'mon. Let's check the place
out."

Ringing up an elevator, Cliff passed up the occupied one, a few guests
entering. His hand holding Vince back, back of his palm against Vince's
stomach, Cliff said, "We've got rules here about overloads."

It didn't go unnoticed, Vince watching Cliff make eye contact with the
elevator boy, both producing an instant smile. "Oh sure. Would be terrible
if we got stuck for hours, huh?"

"Awful," Cliff agreed.

When the side elevator opened, no one was standing in the perimeter of
Vince and Cliff. Before them stood 'Yossi', so the tag read. "What floor?"

"Presidential suite," Cliff said.

However, as soon as the elevator door closed and they started moving, they
stopped.

"Shit! I don't believe it," Vince said, looking up at the floor changes,
seeing the lighted digits immobile, "we're stuck!"

"Yeah, shame isn't it?" Cliff replied, his left hand moving between Vince's
right ribcage.

It's then Vince got the message, saying to the twenty-something Israeli by
the lit up panel, "We're not really stuck are we?"

Along with the light accent came slick maneuvers, Yossi closing Vince in
between his front and Cliff, the two sandwiching the thirty-four year old.

Speaking on behalf of the two employees, Cliff says, "Our hotel can be very
accomodating to the 'needs' of our guests!"

"Hmmm," Vince said, his smile turning into a grin as he looked over his
shoulder, wondering if it were Cliff's or Yossi's hands fidgiting with his
belt. "Y'know guys, we 'could' take this to my room," he assumed ownership
of the Presidential suite. The belt unbuckling ceased. Looking down in
front of him Vince sees Cliff holding Yossi's hands, keeping him from
further crotch disturbance.

"We're both on duty, but perhaps if you haven't any plans for this evening
maybe Yossi and I could 'entertain' you?"

With his own throes of humor, Vince suggests, "Sure. I wouldn't mind
leaving a `large tip' for either of you." As they backed off, Vince thought
it comical, the two arguing over who was going to be the lucky one to get
fucked. As both tidied themselves up, Yossi hitting the 'go' button, he
learned a few things. Before the action would get started later on at least
he knew Cliff to be a total bottom and Yossi swinging both ways, the stage
setting for a threeway gangbang or something else more erotic.

%

While Kyle and Scott headed back uptown with his Sebring stuffed with
Braddock's bags, boxes imprinted in gold, Braddock's written fancifully
across the top, some other excitement took place at the Coffee Bean.

"Happy birthday to Alex... Happy birthday to you," the male chorus sang
out, accompanied by a few unknowns and a couple of regulars at the cafe.

"Cool!" Alex called out, seeing the sheet cake, the words 'Happy Birthday
Alex' written across it.

"Whadya waiting for?" Phil said in a Brooklyn accent. Coming on board early
for this special occasion he remarked as others watched the candles burning
near the icing.

"Don't forget to make a wish," Ian said, giving Alex a sly look.

With a thought in mind Alex bent over and blew over the whole cake til he
exhausted his lungs. As the smoke rose, a round of applause rang out from
the Coffee Bean dining area.

"What's all the commotion?"

'Oh boy', Alex thought, riding on a natural high, but at the same time
making remark at seeing Stephen Braddock walk in along with David
Sonnemaker and Afon Hasteras, plus some other guy who looked familiar, but
he couldn't place the face nor put a name to it.

Each had his own comment to whisper in Alex's ear as they greeted him with
fond wishes.

Stephen being first, wished him a, "Happy birthday Alex," then stuffing an
envelope in his hand, "make sure you only shop at Braddock's!"

The other Coffee Bean gang saw what Stephen placed in Alex's hands and
heard the comment so reacted as Alex did with a giggle and a laugh.

Next, David Sonnemaker made it a point to grind himself 'into' Alex,
wishing him, "Happy birthday, Alex," then tacking on, "I missed you at my
party."

Alex, caught up in the ambiance of the cake, his friends, the laughter,
applause, the singing threw the old response, "Maybe next time,"
immediately afterwards regretting it, especially when he saw Sonnemaker's
eyes light up.

"I knew you'd come around. Next month I'll be seeing you at my place
then. I'll make sure you get a hand-delivered invitation."

With Afon Hasteras next in line, came the nice greeting plus, "You know you
own David Sonnemaker!"

The remark came out as a hushed tone, only Alex hearing but his mind not
making a whole lot of sense about it. As the festive manner carried on
around him, cake being cut, a bottle of champagne being uncorked, it
stirred up Alex's thoughts of what Afon said about the 'owned' part,
especially with David Sonnemaker's name attached.

%

"You look like a pirate!" Jim said as he held the door for Jack as they
made their exit from the hospital, laughing his head off.

"I think it's time to put that whipping post to use!" Jack replied.

Closing the passenger side, Jim hastily ran around the rear of the 4x4. Fed
on his own humor, Jack's comment stoked the fire within. "If it'll make you
feel better," Jim caused question in Jack's mind, his face showing it.

"What will make me feel better?" Jack questioned as Jim turned the key.

Backing out the 4x4, Jim replied, "Whipping me."

"You really want it don't you?"

"I think it might be good to practice up before you take me to the next
bdsm party," Jim said with a cool response.

"Sonnemaker's next party is in about a month. If you're serious about
going..."

Still with an 'in charge' attitude, Jim hands over the responsibility, "Oh,
I didn't think I had a choice in the matter, 'sir'?"

"I guess that settles it then. You're going!" Jack said, taking authoritive
control out of Jim's hands.

"Maybe you can teach me some of that slave stuff too. I kind of got a kick
out of the way some of those slaveboys kiss up to their masters." Feeding
right into Jack's hands, all the way home he let Jim talk himself into
being bound, disciplined, putting Jack in the sadistic master's role,
himself cast as the masochistic bottom, ending with, "I'd like to see how
much pain I can take. So if you feel up to it, when we get back you can
bind me to the whipping post?"

Smiling, Jack didn't say a word. He liked everything Jim talked
about. There was only one flaw in his ramblings and he wondered how Jim
would take it when he exposed it.

%


2B continued...


NEW STORY: "LETS MAKE MATT" by T. Chase McPhee
/nifty/gay/authoritarian/lets-make-matt
former college dudes meet up a years later

Copyright 2008 T. Chase McPhee

This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection without prior
written permission, by the author.