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From: T Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: "Out In The Wild, Wild West" 07 (M/M oral anal bdsm fanfic)
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===================

The following story is a work of fiction set in the
format of reality. Any resemblance to real people is
entirely coincidental in nature, and is not meant to
accurately reflect upon persons in towns, cities, or
governmental areas, in which the story is staged. If
sexual scenes 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 by law. This is fiction. Don't forget, in real
life, to think about 'sexual safety matters'; got
condom?

"Out In The Wild, Wild West" 07 (M/M oral anal bdsm
fanfic)
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

Segments of 'Out In The Wild, Wild West'
are dedicated to my historical archivist, Steve.

%

When Jim awoke, his mind was a blur. His eyes focused,
before any area of his body sensed the position he was
in. Looking down, he saw sand. Then the harsh rays of
the sun hit the back of his body. Lifting his head, he
confirmed that his arms had been outstretched, parted
far apart and attached to a piece of wood, by leather
bindings. His body slackened, to form a slight
indentation of his spine. Not being able to see beyond
his stomach, the hair covering it, he came to the
conclusion that his ankles had the same matter of
bindings as his wrists, then fastened to wood,
stretched far apart, as well. No one was about, as he
remained in bondage, studying the predicament he was
in. It's then he noticed the construction of the
frame. The part his arms had been fastened to,
contained wheels. Wheels, no different than would be
found on a conestoga wagon. Those big wheels, utilized
to haul settlers across the frontier. Looking down,
once more towards his stomach, he could see the tip of
his cock and his balls, but his intentions had been to
confirm the same wheels, completing the wooden unit
his ankles had been tied to.

Then, a barechested man whom West never had seen
before, came out from a barn. He had a team of four
horses, pulling them by reins. Funny thing that Jim
didn't notice the object in his mouth, until he went
to call out to the horseman. The only audible sound
was a grumbled syllable. Something rounded had been
forced into his mouth and he sensed the tying of it
behind his head. So, for now, all West could do is
follow the actions of the man with the team of horses.
It's then he noticed the long stretch of wood,
protruding from the frame that his arms had been
stretched out to and tied. The brawny man backed the
horses up, separating the team, with the wood. Then,
as if hitching the horses to a wagon, the man began
the preparations to make the team a part of the frame.

Jim began perspiring, not only because of the hot sun
beating down on him and the air temperature, which
seemed to exceed a hundred, at least, but also for the
fact that nothing else held the 'body' of the wagon
together, except his own flesh and bones. In order to
pull up the rear axle of the 'wagon', his own body
would serve as the means to complete, midsection,
between his arms and legs. In essence, it seemed his
body would be dealt no better than a medieval torture
rack.

"Oh, I don't envy you, Mister West. Nope, not one
fuckin' bit!" The
horseman said.

He flashed Jim an evil grin, at the same time,
unhooking a whip from his beltline, where it had been
fastened in place. From where he lay, faced down and
outstretched, Jim could see the statistics regarding
the
man. Height can be deceiving, when a man is in his
position, lower than the one standing. However, he
gaged the man to be about six feet, two, over two
hundred and twenty pounds, seeing that his wide,
rounded, hairy belly exceeded his beltline by about an
inch. He had a plump chest that sagged slightly, when
he bent over, to fasten the hitches. West didn't
exactly fancy the whip in the man's hand, but he did
salivate, thinking how juicy his plump nips would
taste, right now!

"Well, guess I better get my shirt and get a move on
it!"

Jim grunted, his slight cry muffled, as the man passed
by his side,
slapping his ass harshly with the coiled up whip. In a
matter of minutes, the man had returned, tucking his
shirt into his pants. He wore a wide brimmed hat that
shaded his face and neck. For West, he could feel his
back, ass, arms and legs beginning to cross that line
beyond being tanned and burning.

Also, fastened to the axle by which Jim's ankles had
been well secured,
there had been affixed a type of seat that resembeled
a cushioned seat. A board had been attached to the
front of the seat, whereby a passenger's feet could
rest.

"Guess we better get a move on it, before my employer
has fifty
kiniptions."

He began to climb onto the rear of the 'JW conestoga',
when he spotted the long, leather talon, resting on
the front part of the frame.

"Oh, now we can't forget the means by which we're
going to get this rig
moving, can we now?"

With the chuckle in his voice, the brawny man picked
up the long, leather whip, letting it uncoil. Before
the man retreated to his throne, he fidgeted with the
back of James' head. He picked up the gag out off the
sand, falling from Jim's face.

"Where is it we're..ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

Before Jim could inquire to where they would be
headed, the cowboy's boot swept up in front of him,
catching Jim right in the abs. Jim's body flung
upwards, as the slight concave of his body moved
rather quickly up, as the boot tip made contact with
his stomach, then fell rapidly down. Jim's head hung
down, as he tried to recapture the air in his lungs.
He groaned.

"Hee heeee... yeah, Mr. West. Keep giving me reasons
to torture that body of your's. Love seeing you 'in
action', Mr. West!"

Resigning to the fact that he wouldn't be finding out
anything, Jim
reserved his strength. He didn't have to be a
physicist to understand how this 'wagon' was going to
function and he didn't expect any help from it's
overseer.

>From his perch, above Jim's outstretched body, the man
explained, "Now, Mr. West, let me tell you how all
this works. This here is a specially
trained team of horses. The only sound this team will
respond to, is the sound of a male voice crying out.
How do I know that?"

At this moment, Jim cared less to hear a lecture on
horsetraining. He could put two and two, or two more
together, to figure it out. However, he didn't have a
choice.

"Wore down many a whip, training these horses to a
man's yelps. Now,
Mr. West. In order to get them moving, I'm going to
have to hear a
tremendous effort on your part."

West replied, "Yah!"

That was what a normal man would yell out, to get one
horse into moving his hoofs. The man behind Jim, now
seated on the buggy seat, his boots planted on the
floorboard, stood, holding the long reins of the
horses, in one hand. The leather reins partially
rested along Jim's bare back. Lifting the reins, the
overseer eyed up a spot along Jim's back. With the
whip in his free hand, he drew it way behind his own
body. All the force he could muster up, made the whip
fly over himself, over the buggy portion of the
'wagon', over the bottom half of Jim's body and lash
his back.

"Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!" Jim
screamed out loud, arching his body.

The ratherhide, wide, leather whip had landed below
Jim's lower left
shoulder blade. It crossed, upwards, intersecting his
right shoulder and curled around his body. Only Jim
would know where it struck, just missing the right
side of his chest, miss striking over his nip. But the
middle of his chest felt the force of the blow, as did
his back. The horses moved one step, each hoof.

Laughing, the man readied the whip behind himself.

"Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!" Jim screamed out loud.

Keyed to the high pitch of Jim's voice, the horses
moved a bit more. The wheel's on each side of the
frame that held Jim's arms, tethered to, turned
slightly. He felt his arms pulled forward. At this
point, the burning of the lash, once more up his back
and over his shoulder, stinging his chest, signaled
more to his brain than the fact that his body was
being stretched.

"Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk! Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!"

One strike of the lash, followed by a second, marked
James West's back. At the same time, the horses began
their trek, turning the front wheels. Jim discovered
the second manner of pain that would rack his body,
throughout their jouney. His head, cock and balls, had
become the only parts of his body that moved freely.
His arms stretched almost in a straight line, with his
legs and the main part of his body.

"Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!" Jim cried out,
as the lash struck his back intently.

The team of horses now began a steady pace. He
screamed out, as his legs pulled on the rear of the
'wagon', contining it's sole passenger.

"Heeeeey wait! Wait for me pa!"

Running up to the back of the 'wagon', a young man
carried a leather pouch.

"Hurry up son! Thought you wanted to stay behind?"

The young man, appearing to be about seventeen or
eighteen, grabbed hold of the side of the buckboard,
where his father sat. He hoisted himself up and over
the edge, landing in the seat.

"Uggggghhh!" Jim moaned, at the added weight, however
slight is was.

The horses still moved at a steady pace.

"I never saw a man... a man like a...."

"Wagon, son?"

"Yeah, I guess that's what ya call it. How come, pa?"

"Orders."

"From who?"

"The man I've been hired to deliver Mr. West to."

"Mr. West? Is this here the famous James West?"

His father couldn't see through his son's eyes, but if
he could, he would have seen how the teen eyed up
Jim's ass.

"Here, change places with me," his father said,
adding, "can't properly
whip this piece of beef from this side, Jake."

"Okay, pa," Jake replied.

However, as his father passed in front of Jake and
looked down, he could see the tent in his son's pants.
He smiled.

"Hee heee..." he laughed.

Knowing what his pa giggled about, Jake wondered
whether to bring up the subject of his pending
erection.

"You want it, don't you son?"

The teen acted dumb, mostly out of embarrassment.

"Want what Pa?"

"This!"

"Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!" Rang out the
cry from Jim, as the whip grazed across his ass
cheeks, leaving a reddened line.

The horses picked up the pace.

"Wow! I can't believe we're moving, Pa! Shit! That
must be a terrible
strain on West's body!" Jake said, astounded by both
him and his pa moving along with the rig.

"Yeah. Hot, ain't it?"

Jake wasn't sure. He noticed Jim grunting, with every
step the horses took and the additional groans of
pain, as the wheels of the manmade wagon turned.

"What'd you say, son?" the father provoked his boy
into voicing an opinion.

"He.... seems to be doing okay."

The boy leaned over to his left side, over the side of
the buckboard, to peer at Jim's taut body, his arms
tugging along the rest of this body, making him and
his pa ride along in slow motion. He also took notice
of the swinging action of Jim's cock and balls, as the
wheels traveled over the rough surface. Leaning back
in, Jake didn't want to convey his reaction, so
changed the subject.

"Sure is hot out here, pa."

At the same time, Jake began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Better keep that on Jake. It's gonna be a mighty hot
one today!"

Leaving the buttons open, he left his shirt on. His
gaze left his eyes on Jim's back. He wondered how long
it would be before those welts blended in with Jim's
burned skin.

"I never knew this road was here, pa?" Jake questioned
his pa.

Jake's father readied the whip behind him, as he
pulled on the right rein.

"Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!" Jim screamed out,
as it grazed his back, again winding around the top of
his shoulder.

"That's gotta hurt!" Jake said, standing.

He fell back onto his ass, as the manmade wagon gave a
jerk forwards.

"Yeah," his pa replied, readying his arm for another
swing of the whip.

As he again pulled on the rein, the whip landed up
Jim's back. A slight
turn of the wagon and the horse team paced onwards.
Jake grabbed the side and seat of the buckboard, at
the sharp crying out of James West's scream.

"Shit!" Jake said.

His pa finally confided, "I hear Mr. West don't mind a
little pain."

"What's that pa?" Jake questioned, not believing he
heard what he thought he heard.

"Hee heee... a little tip from my employer."

"Tip, pa?"

"Yeah. Mr. West here likes the abuse. Likes a nice hot
whip used on him."

Looking to Jim, then back at his dad, then back to
Jim, Jake couldn't
believe what he was hearing. He had to hear it again.

"Um, can you tell me what you just told me, again pa?"

Jake listened more intently.

After letting out a loud laugh, his pa informed him
again, "Mr. West. He loves the feel of the lash on his
skin. In fact, he likes any kind of pain a man can
dish out. Watch this!"

Jake's pa grabbed the reins and pulled on them,
halting their walking
action.

"Whooooa.... whoooooa there..." he called out to the
horses. "C'mon," his pa said, jumping down from the
buckboard.

"What're you gonna do?"

Jumping down, Jake followed his father. They both
stood now, at James'
side, his pinkish body gleaming with sweat.

"Go ahead."

"With what, Pa?"

"Touch him. I know you want to."

"I don't........"

"Touch him, damn it!"

He knew he didn't have anything to hide from his pa.
Most likely, his pa gathered from his tented crotch
all the information he needed. The teen stepped the
few paces that brought him inches from James West's
torso. He figured his pa thought he looked at the
welted, sunburned back, but his main focus was on the
hairy, sweaty asscrack. However, much to his own
surprise, Jake found his pa behind him, his hand on
Jake's hand, lifting it, placing it on Jim's ass.

"Whatha?" Jake said, turning his head, looking
straight into his pa's face.

"Like I said, son. You want something, go after it!"

"But...."

"Go ahead. Press your fingers down into that sweaty
ass crevice, son. Don't be embarrassed. You won't be
the first man in this family to touch a man's ass!"

This time, when Jake looked up at his dad, it seemed
like something new
sparked between them.

"You.... you like men too, pa?"

"Son, I think it's time you and I had a talk," his pa
said.

His pa picked up the end of a small boulder. He
wrapped the reins of the team of horses around it. The
two went and sat on a large pair of rocks.

As the two chatted, Jim took a survey of the situation
he was in. Sure, he liked a lot of the scene happening
about him at the moment, but he felt being stretched
on the racklike apparatus a bit extreme. First, he
didn't know how far they had been headed, but for
miles, as he looked up ahead and to the sides, nothing
could be seen except desert. The whole thing didn't
turn him off. He wondered if the old man and the kid
noticed the juice dripping from his cock. He could
sure sense it. It's then that he looked under his
right arm and saw the kid. The one called Jake,
sitting there, talking with his pa. Thoughts began
running through James West's mind. Those that touched
the pleasure center between his legs.

'Fuck, I'd sure like to have you up my ass right now!'
He said to himself, licking his lips not because they
were dry. It's then he discovered just how tightly his
body was drawn out to the four corners of the wagon
frame. He squirmed, to stimulate his cock and balls.
All James West could do, for the moment, is train his
eyes on the teen boy. That is, until the two got up
from their rocks.

"Grab him from underneath, son."

James wondered what was happening. The direction the
father gave, he
wondered why he was telling his son to grab his balls.
However, James'
wishful thinking dissipated, as Jake's arms went
around his nude
waist. Still, it turned him on.

"This good, pa?"

"Perfect. Now hold his weight up, as I untie him."

"You know you don't have to do this for me, pa?"

"I know I don't, son," the father conceded, "I 'want'
to do it."

West wondered what was happening, as the buckboard
driver began loosening his legs.

"You're not going to get in any trouble, are you pa?"

"You kidding, son?" He responded, James now on his
knees. "I can guess that
you wouldn't be the first to fuck Mr. West's ass."

"But, aren't you supposed to be taking him someplace,
like hired to deliver him," Jake spoke, sounding like
delivering a carcass of meat to the market.

"There's plenty of time to deliver Mr. West to my
employer. Besides, I made it a point for my employer
to outfit me with a day's grace, just for moments like
this, that could hold up the delivery, son."

Jim winced, at his muscles flinched, however his
puckerhole contracted,
almost begging for what his ears had informed his
brain and pleasure hole.

"You can let go now, son."

Unknitting his fingers, clasped to Jim's underside,
Jake's hands slid along the hairy, sweaty stomach. He
didn't plan it, but his hands stroked West's abs, then
still clenched the sides of his flesh, as his body
slipped out of Jake's control. Jim's loins stirred, as
his mind thought of the teen's hands releasing it's
grip on his body, feeling the lightly haired forearms
touching him. Part of the sensuality of the moment
left him, as his body lurched to the ground, his arms
taking up the slack, as his navel and pubes ground
into the hard, sandy desert floor. West's hairy chest
came an inch or so from being impaled on cactus
thorns.

"That was a close one," Jake reported, seeing the
dilemma Jim's chest would have encountered.

"Close one? Fuck!" his pa retorted, "would've made
West's crotch grind into the desert, if... hmm.. maybe
we'll have some fun with Mr. West afterall."

"Huh? What are you talking about pa?"

"Never you mind, son. C'mon, let's get you pumped up."

When the two stood behind Jim's body, Jake opened the
button of his
pants. Tearing back the flaps, his pa saw that Jake
wouldn't be needing
much prodding, to get his cock up.

"Looking forward to this, son?"

"Well, to tell you the truth, pa, I was hoping that
the first guy I fucked, would be the guy I'd be
spending my life with."

At the revelation of his son's wishes, his pa suddenly
showed remorse. Like all fathers that care about their
boys, they want the best for them. This dad was no
different. His mind was a little warped from the
beginning, accepting his employer's ideas of how to
deliver James West to his lair, as the 'body' of a
wagon, stretching out, torturing every muscle of his
body, in transport.

"Maybe," Jake's pa thought, scratching his stubble and
decades old gotee, "might just work out," he continued
to ponder.

"What, pa?" Jake asked, at the same time holding his
8.5c barrel in his
hand.

"Yeah, guess I'm willing to take the chance."

"Chance, pa?"

"Yeah," his pa replied, looking down at his son's
'happiness' in his hand.

"Son?"

"Yeah, pa?"

"I know I haven't been a great father to you all these
years."

Jake knows how that has gone, more than anyone. His
pa, absent most of his young life, to show up after
his mom passed on, had experienced a minimum of the
father/son relationship. When his dad came back into
his life, he was abusive to Jake, often beating him
after a night out with the boys, coming home drunk.
Yet, as he reached puberty a change came over his pa.
He showed more love and kindess. Yet, Jake still had
haboured some hurt feelings from those early stages of
his life, not believing his pa had changed. Sure, he
was grateful for the essentials, food, a shirt on his
back, but as far as that homespun love, it didn't much
exist. For the last few years, Jake went along with
whatever came, in hopes of one day getting his life
together and hitting the road. Still, he used his pa
as the vehicle of setting that dream in motion. He
hoped he could get some kind of sustenance for his
life journey, if he hung in there. His pa, claimed, he
had turned over this new leaf and Jake hoped he could
get more than some human emotion out of their
father-son relationship.

"Hmm... wait a minute son. Gotta think on this."

Backing off, Jake leaned against the backboard, his
eyes glanced from James West's ass, to his pa, then
back. His pa wandered off, heading back to the
boulders they sat on a few moments ago.

His pa thought about it. He didn't have much to offer
his son, squandering much of the money he made off of
the between-towns livery. He had sensed some kind of
love from Jake, but nothing equivalent to a deep
loving relationship that a father and son shared. Yet,
he had this sense of helping to bring Jake into the
world and had a feeling of resposibility. He eyed up
Jake's manhood in more than a hard cock.

Staring, he changed his gaze, moving up Jake's body.
His pa couldn't see through the shirt, but plenty of
times he caught glimpses of his son's well formed
body. Helping around the stables, had kept his son's
abs, chest, whole frame of body, in muscled order.
Touching his own shirt, he sensed working his son
hard, doing much of the work he should've attended to.
He smirked, seeing that his belly might've been more
taut, if he had applied himself to more of the 'slave
labor' his son did.

Unlike his own weather-beaten face, his pa depicted
Jake as a handsome lad, much like an actor he had
recently seen on the stage, a Robert Birch. He
pictured his son as maturing into the adonis that he
held Birch as, in his own mind. He figured his son had
a couple of years of maturity lying ahead of him. A
year or so ago, when Birch was struggling, he paid a
small fortune to have the thespian's 10c thick meat up
his ass. If he had thought of it earlier, he might
have even backed Jake against wall, forcing his own
son's cock up his chute.

Snapping back on focue, he thought that taking his son
along on this
delivery, he knew it would be the last he would see of
him. Melancholy
overtook Jake's pa. As if he thought he owed his son
something, it dawned on him that this would be his
last chance to do something nice, meaningful for his
only son. A surge of love in his soul, created the
vehicle to put forth his decision.

"This is what we're going to do, son."

Planted back into his pants, Jake began unfastening
the button once again.

"No, keep it in there for now, son," his pa referred
to his pent up cock.

"But, aren't I gonna get to fuck West?"

"Oh, you are, but.... hey, listen son, I knowed I
ain't been a good father to you all these years and
now I know there's a way I can pay all that back to
you."

"What're you talking about pa?" the teen asked.

"Jake, I know I was a bastard to ever leave you and
your mom. I mean, I
know the money I sent back to you can't be no
substitute for me being
there."

"I guess you had your reasons, pa."

"Yeah, well, it still ain't no 'scuse."

Beginning to see his dad in a different light, Jake's
crotch drifted from the attention Jim's ass would've
been getting, to the chat between the father and son.

"I know you done your best," Jake sort of lied,
knowing the treatment he had gotten during his early
teen years.

Standing in front of Jake, his pa didn't know how to
truly show his
affection, other than holding his hand out, for a
man's shake.

"What's this, pa?"

"Take it, son."

Reaching out, he took his father's weather-beaten,
livery worked hand in his own, a hand that has
experienced the force of a livery owner's hand,
shoeing and attending to horses for decades.

"I know I don't have no legacy to leave ya, son, but
right now I want you to have something from me."

"From you?" Jake asked, puzzled, yet felt some warmth
from the offered
hand, much like a father would offer his son a hug.

Jake's pa knew what he would be giving up for his son.
Most likely his
life, when it came to what his employer expected of
him.

"Here, help me unbind Mr. West."

"But, pa? You... you have a contract to deliver him."

A few things ran through Jake's mind. One, that he
didn't really care about what happened to his pa, but
on the other hand, felt something. Other than his
relationship with his pa, no matter how impersonal, he
did want more of a connection with James West, more
than beyond a cock shoved up his ass.

"Make sure you steer him away from that cactus, son."

"But I thought," Jake started to refer to the cactus
almost touching his chest.

"Hey, he's going to be your's, boy. After I truss him
up, he's going to be your property."

A new stirring in Jake's loins took place. Instead of
thinking of James
West, as his body taking the place of an inanimate
object, he thought of him as more of a companion. With
his free hand, not clutching his pa's, he had to
rearrange his teen erection, so that his sex pistol
was pointed down his pants leg.

"Property, pa? You mean like a slave?"

His pa thought on the idea for a second, then
repeated, "Yeah. whatever you want to make him, son.
He's your's."

"But what about your employer, pa? I thought..."

"You leave that to me. Now, here. Take two of the
horses and get the fuck outta here."

It wasn't any secret that his pa kept from himself
that there was no lost love between the two. If there
had been as much as a hug between the two,then his pa
might've sensed something amorous, but not even a
friendly
demeanor possessed either of the two. The handshake,
like a gentlemen's agreement was all that his pa felt
from his son. For his own benefit, that handshake
sufficed as a loving gesture, between father and son,
as he perceived it, showed enough affection. He
figured some was better than
none. Yet, enough to quench his own purposes of giving
something to his only son.

West stood there, naked. He did feel for the father
and son, seeing what little connection did occur. He
could have tried to make an escape, but his constant
peering at the nineteen year old, kept Jim focused on
his true
feelings of the moment. The thirty-five year old agent
wanted to be dominated by, owned by, used by this boy.

Jake's pa was no stranger to what a man wanted. He
could see West, his hands in front of his pubes,
trying to hide his 'feelings', the physical from his
son, as he told it like it is.

"Here, you're gonna need this," Jake's pa stressed,
unbuttoning his own shirt.

The clothes didn't fit what James West's normal,
dapper wardrobe prescribed, but Jim's trim frame fit
into the loose shirt and pants.

"Here, help me on with this, will you, West?"

More like a command, than asking a favor, Jake's pa
directed his own arms to the front of the wagon frame.
Like Jim's body, his white skin already began to
sweat.

"Now, you better get on your way, Jake."

His pa took pleasure in saying his son's name. The
name spoken for the last time. He sacrificed a lot, in
his last moment of a gesture of love for his son. As
James West and Jake Pearson lit out, in the direction
of the sunset, Jake's pa's body lay in place where
James West's should have taken up the slack, arms and
legs tautly shackled to the wagon frame. The coiled
whip lay in the backboard.

%

Continued.....

Copyright 2005 T. Luke McPhee
All World Rights Reserved

This story may not be sold or made part of any
collection without prior
written permission.




The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness!
TCMcP


	
		
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