Ed Katz finds a way to simultaneously restore order in his home and indulge his darkest fantasies in HOT HOT HOT story by Amalaric that features a plethora of characters and sexy manips!
Snapshots from the Woodshed - Page 1
by Amalaric
Series: Snapshots from the Woodshed
Fetish is a funny thing. Could be a situation- like tying up and working over handsome guys…yeah, CM is a fetish driven place. Then those guys might be of various types, age, build, race, disposition, any number of things. Of course, various parts of his body come into…ah…play. Get beyond that sort of thing and there are peripheral objects and favored situations- articles of clothing, preferred instruments of torment, scenarios of the same, positions… But what about a place? Does a place qualify as a fetish? These short vignettes- all snapshots, both visual and verbal- are centered on a place; a woodshed to be exact, prosaically situated in anyone’s back yard, tucked all inconspicuous over to the side of the house or maybe out in a field. Not a place many would notice, perhaps even unused, empty and waiting, full of light, shadow, stark in its simplicity but…full of promise.
Ed Katz had a home on the edge of suburbia, a job he hated with eight years left until retirement, three spirited sons nearly grown up but still hanging around in their late teens and early twenties, and a large yard out back that the boys should have kept up for him but didn’t. His second wife had walked out leaving her two kids from a previous marriage so, technically speaking, only one of his sons, the youngest, was natural, making the older two his stepsons. Maybe that had something to do with the problems he encountered, but one thing was for sure- those two older boys sure seemed to get up to a shit load of trouble. Take the oldest, Jack, for instance- the kid was a fucking slob…oh, not in the physical sense; Jack was solid lean, tanned muscle, All-American blond good looks, and that, no doubt, was part of the problem. The kid acted like he owned the world and, at twenty two, only had a part time job and, comfortably ensconced rent free at home, lived to party. Ed Katz leaned back in his easy chair one bright Saturday morning and a strange smile creased his otherwise dour face. Things were about to change.
The tall twenty two year old had been given an ultimatum; some modest rent and fixed household chores were now on the agenda and that was just for starters. ‘You got to learn that there are consequences in life, boy, and handling those requires some discipline.’ Ed was on a roll as his handsome stepson took it all in, surveying the unkempt backyard he had been ordered to begin cleaning up. The grass remained unmowed, plants unpruned, and the beds were choked with weeds. Ed nodded at the old woodshed and motioned toward his stepson, ‘Follow me,’ he said cryptically, and was gratified as the lanky young stud obeyed and shambled nervously into the dry, dusty interior. The look on the handsome buck’s face was priceless as Ed curtly ordered him to strip down, explaining as Jack slowly unbuttoned his shirt, that if he wanted to continue to live in the lifestyle he was accustomed to then he had better start acting more responsibly and, since he hadn’t gotten the point yet, and wasn’t a ten year old that could be conveniently turned over the knee, well, Jack wasn’t the brightest guy on the block but he grasped the implications and, since he hadn’t worked up the courage to move out on his own, he swallowed the temptation to tell the old man to fuck off…and got down to business. Ed Katz watched, fascinated, as the red blooded stud bared his muscular torso, hesitating with a silent plea that went unheeded before removing shoes and socks then unzipping the fly of his jeans and shucking them off, followed by his briefs. Jack cut a fine sight, waiting anxiously in the soft interplay of light and shadow, buck naked and clearly embarrassed by the interested gaze of the older man. ‘OK, boy, it’s like I said; you aren’t a skinny ten year that I can bend over my knee and, besides, with muscles like you got, well, I reckon it’s gonna be more than your ass that gets reddened this afternoon.’ He lifted a coil of rope from a hook on the wall and looped some around his stepson’s hairy wrists. ‘Let’s get you into position and then we got all the time in the world, just you and me, until we’re both satisfied that the lesson’s been learned.’
Trouble was, though Ed Katz was right about having all of the time in the world and more or less right about the lesson being learned, as the lean body of his stepson writhed under the snapping strap and Jack’s deep voice swore over and over that things would change from now on, he was wrong about one thing- it wasn’t just him and the big naked stud, alone like father and stepson should be at such an intimate time, on that sunny Saturday. Ed’s natural son, Chucky, caught sight of the early encounter from his bedroom window and, following at a safe distance, watched everything, wide-eyed and strangely excited, through a gap in the weathered clapboard wall of the woodshed.
The Katz household was humming with Jack leading the pack, pruning the old brambles around the woodshed without even being asked twice and Ed, more than satisfied, reflected on some other uses that the old shack might be put to as he leaned back primly in an old lounge chair on the back lawn, nursing his third can of Budweiser. Bad luck (well, maybe, depending on who’s point of view it was) that Ronnie Owens just happened to pick that moment to lean over the fence dividing his property from the Katz’ and start complaining about the incessant barking of young Chucky’s pet pug. Seemed the mutt kept him and his Barbie doll wife up half the night and… What the fuck? Ed wondered, half-drunk gaze lingering on Ronnie’s handsome face and broad shoulders, strapping stud like yourself, well, I’ll just bet you’re up half the night anyway boffing that peroxide bimbo you married last summer. A few hours later, Ronnie found himself stripped down to his calvins and blushing like a girl in the privacy of the woodshed, though that privacy was rather brutally contradicted by a self-satisfied Ed Katz fingering the strap, recently used to such great effect on the muscular body of his stepson. How he got the studly neighbor into a situation…so compromising…is a long story told short. Seems that Ed had some info (he was a detail freak with an inquiring mind) on the slick chick hastily hitched to Ronnie the summer before and even a pack of grainy photos to back up some facts that may have been otherwise utterly unbelievable. The Barbie doll had a wild past, slumming it a year or two before she beguiled handsome Ronnie Owens along with his paycheck and (mortgaged) house in suburbia, at one of the inner city ‘dykes on bikes’ bars; all tricked out in leather frills and deep kissing some lightly mustachioed lesbian with a butch haircut, jugs to rival Dolly Parton, and a face that would curdle fresh milk. Ed explained it all to Ronnie and showed him the photos in a casual way, leaning over the fence that separated the property, and was all commiseration- you know, the whole thing was sort of like what Anne Heche did to Steve Martin’s hairy, if prematurely gray, self-esteem when she ran off with that square jawed second rate lady comedienne who walked and talked like a man…shocked the whole damn world, and poor Steve! Must have taken the dude at least six months to get it up again…Well, Ronnie found himself in a similar boat and, responding to Ed’s very real threat to go public, reluctantly entered the woodshed on the promise that things would remain between him and his accommodating neighbor. He shucked off jeans and tee shirt, hoping against hope that it would somehow end there…but, of course, it didn’t. Ronnie’s calvins joined the heap of other clothes in a dusty corner of the shed after he was secured to a convenient post and Ed, in a creative frenzy, paid special attention to the good looking dude’s dick and balls as he flicked the hungry strap- payback for a lot of things, but especially for being stupid enough to hook up with that gold digging bimbo…and when it was all over, as the weeks and months rolled by, Ronnie Owens never mentioned the pug, or much of anything else, to Ed Katz again.
The maintenance man was irresistible. The guy was just so good looking…and stupid...that Ed couldn’t resist. Ronnie Owens had been cute, in a thirtyish, sophisticated yet macho, insouciant and stuck up way…but this hunk, to quote a well known text, had no guile. Mark DeLucca was satisfied and his life- no major hassles, fixing stuff as various customers required, making enough dosh to get by- seemed set in its ways, until he met Ed Katz. The infraction was negligible; the threat insubstantial (at first) as the bemused young workman was led by his eccentric customer into the woodshed, shirt already peeled off as he had been out under the sun fixing some miasma of blocked pipes. The lightening-fast loop of rope on his wrists told a different story. Mark twisted against his bonds, confused and humiliated by unforeseen circumstances, panicking as Ed unbuttoned his jeans and hiked them low, exposing his horse-hung cock and low slung balls in the limpid light. The muscle bound buck squirmed with surprised revulsion, swiveling his wide hips in a way that drove Ed wild and cursing loudly to no one’s concern except maybe the spiders lurking in isolated shadows. The boy was made for fun and Ed happily obliged, teasing him a little as he guided the shocked stud to the middle of the shed, hefting his hot balls and squeezing with unfeigned admiration. ‘Mark, all I got to say is- well, I’ve been wondering about that package wrapped in denim all morning and, kid, you got nothing to be ashamed of; hung like a farking bull!’ Trouble was, the young maintenance man was thoroughly humiliated (as Ed could gleefully tell). More or less reserved by nature, and even in between girlfriends; except for the warm comfort of his trusted right hand, the stud’s big horse dick hadn’t known any other company in quite a while. Ed guessed it all without being told and, riding the muse of inspiration, retrieved an old bucket from a dim corner of the shed and placed it carefully between the maintenance man’s legs. The sensation of the older guy’s clammy hand around the shaft of his big cock sent a shudder of revulsion up Mark’s spine, followed by a different sort of shiver as the same hand began its rhythmic stroke, up and down the thick length of warm cable dangling between his legs. He gasped as his swinging balls were tweaked by a feathery touch, straight up the inseam and back again, begging to be let go, half hearted threats unheard as he watched his prick turn to throbbing steel with stunned fascination followed by the mortifying sound of a hot gusher against the cold metal at the bottom of the pail. Ed eventually let the guy go but not without some careful advice and an invitation to return to the shed on a regular basis for, um, remedial purposes. Mark muttered something unintelligible and disappeared into the sunlight.
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GayBondageFiction - August 26, 2018, 5:34 pm
This is another one of my all time favorites Amalaric works!
Amalaric, thank you so much for sharing this with us!!
31118azti - August 27, 2018, 9:52 am
Great!
Drum - August 31, 2018, 7:31 am
Great stuff Amalaric! And of course, the ‘Manips of the Master’. Thank you for sharing.