Monday, April 4, 2011
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Mindfuck #1: Ewan
(For you, Tim)
"I trust that my guest enjoyed himself?"
Ewan Drummond's voice held a hard edge. The maitre'd visibly cowered. "Y-yes sir, he did. He thought you were going to join him earlier, but I assured him that you would be coming."
Drummond gave a slight smile. "Good man. Take me to him."
The two threaded their way through the crowded restaurant - as they passed, conversation stopped and the patrons stared openmouthed at the new guest. He was tall - over 6 feet - and dressed in a pair of tight black leather jeans that gleamed darkly in the subdued lighting. These were accompanied by tall, black boots and a half-open sleeveless leather shirt that highlighted broad shoulders, a muscular tanned chest and powerful arms. Dark, burnished gold hair was cut short in a military style and the mirrored sunglasses made the strong jawed, stubbled face both intimidating and inscrutable. A pair of short, tight leather gloves completed the outfit and hinted at power and violence kept under the strictest control.
Ewan felt the powerful wake of incipient lust he was leaving and laughed softly to himself. The two arrived at one of the private rooms and the maitre'd knocked and opened the door. Ewan entered and quietly closed the portal behind him.
James Daly looked up and his breath caught in his throat. Ewan glided over and pulled a chair over to sit across from him. The other man wore an expensive suit and tie.
"I said I'd be here, love ... and here I am. I never break my word." His voice was soft and dark and deliciously corrupt.
"You're ... you're ... Scottish??" Ewan could feel the man's defenses crumbling further.
"That I am. The burr doesn't quite convey itself over email, does it?" James tentatively reached out to stroke a muscled forearm. He was shaking. "I'm not going to disappear in a puff of smoke, James."
Ewan stretched like a large, contented cat. "Did you enjoy your meal?"
The man regained a modicum of composure. "I thought we were going to have dinner together ... I was afraid you weren't going to show up."
Again, that small smile. "I'll have a little taste of something now."
Drummond reached across and grasped the other man's tie. "Get up."
Daly was only slightly shorter than the man in leather and his green eyes were reflected back from the mirrored lenses. He pushed back from the table and levered himself up, still attached leash-like to Drummond. The burnished blonde biker pulled him away from the table. Ewan moved closer and pushed him gently back again the wall. Daly's breath quickened as the leather-gloved hands loosened his tie and began to unbutton his shirt.
"Oh, man ..." His fingers traced along the well-trimmed stubble on the leatherman's face. Ewan kissed James softly on the lips and began to nuzzle along his jaw. The other man's stubble scratched as he moved lower and kissed along the hollow of the businessman's throat. James started to moan under the onslaught.
Gloved hands slowly pulled the shirt apart and down and traced delicate designs on the muscular chest and around the hardening nips. Ewan's lips traveled down to feather along valley between Daly's pecs. James ran his hands through the short golden hair and Ewan himself trembled at the gentle touch. Sparks danced along his nerves. This is the one. After five long centuries, this is the one.
Drummond straightened up and again the two were face to face. "Take off my glasses, love."
The businessman lifted the lenses slowly off the arresting, square-jawed mien to display golden-brown eyes that gleamed with a jewel-like intensity. Leather-clad hands slipped into the shirt and pulled the two closer together.
Ewan smiled wider to expose sharp white fangs that gleamed in the darkened room. Again, he brushed his lips along the other man's jaw and moved down to the side of the other man's neck. A sharp hiss escaped Daly's lips. Oh, sweet Jesus, he smells just like chocolate.
The vampire paused. "You really want this, don't you? There'll be no turning back, James. We'll be bound together for eternity."
James was shaking with desire. "Oh, God ... yes ... yes!" He brought his arms around the black-clad torso of the man holding him. Ewan pulled the other man into a tight embrace as he bit down and began to feed.
* * *
My buddy Tim and I often have quite involved chats with scenarios like this, so I decided to start a new category of entries here called "Mindfucks." A scene that gets into your head and makes (and keeps) you hard and leaking every time you think of it. The first one is always the hardest, but more will be coming!
"I trust that my guest enjoyed himself?"
Ewan Drummond's voice held a hard edge. The maitre'd visibly cowered. "Y-yes sir, he did. He thought you were going to join him earlier, but I assured him that you would be coming."
Drummond gave a slight smile. "Good man. Take me to him."
The two threaded their way through the crowded restaurant - as they passed, conversation stopped and the patrons stared openmouthed at the new guest. He was tall - over 6 feet - and dressed in a pair of tight black leather jeans that gleamed darkly in the subdued lighting. These were accompanied by tall, black boots and a half-open sleeveless leather shirt that highlighted broad shoulders, a muscular tanned chest and powerful arms. Dark, burnished gold hair was cut short in a military style and the mirrored sunglasses made the strong jawed, stubbled face both intimidating and inscrutable. A pair of short, tight leather gloves completed the outfit and hinted at power and violence kept under the strictest control.
Ewan felt the powerful wake of incipient lust he was leaving and laughed softly to himself. The two arrived at one of the private rooms and the maitre'd knocked and opened the door. Ewan entered and quietly closed the portal behind him.
James Daly looked up and his breath caught in his throat. Ewan glided over and pulled a chair over to sit across from him. The other man wore an expensive suit and tie.
"I said I'd be here, love ... and here I am. I never break my word." His voice was soft and dark and deliciously corrupt.
"You're ... you're ... Scottish??" Ewan could feel the man's defenses crumbling further.
"That I am. The burr doesn't quite convey itself over email, does it?" James tentatively reached out to stroke a muscled forearm. He was shaking. "I'm not going to disappear in a puff of smoke, James."
Ewan stretched like a large, contented cat. "Did you enjoy your meal?"
The man regained a modicum of composure. "I thought we were going to have dinner together ... I was afraid you weren't going to show up."
Again, that small smile. "I'll have a little taste of something now."
Drummond reached across and grasped the other man's tie. "Get up."
"Oh, man ..." His fingers traced along the well-trimmed stubble on the leatherman's face. Ewan kissed James softly on the lips and began to nuzzle along his jaw. The other man's stubble scratched as he moved lower and kissed along the hollow of the businessman's throat. James started to moan under the onslaught.
Gloved hands slowly pulled the shirt apart and down and traced delicate designs on the muscular chest and around the hardening nips. Ewan's lips traveled down to feather along valley between Daly's pecs. James ran his hands through the short golden hair and Ewan himself trembled at the gentle touch. Sparks danced along his nerves. This is the one. After five long centuries, this is the one.
Drummond straightened up and again the two were face to face. "Take off my glasses, love."
The businessman lifted the lenses slowly off the arresting, square-jawed mien to display golden-brown eyes that gleamed with a jewel-like intensity. Leather-clad hands slipped into the shirt and pulled the two closer together.
Ewan smiled wider to expose sharp white fangs that gleamed in the darkened room. Again, he brushed his lips along the other man's jaw and moved down to the side of the other man's neck. A sharp hiss escaped Daly's lips. Oh, sweet Jesus, he smells just like chocolate.
The vampire paused. "You really want this, don't you? There'll be no turning back, James. We'll be bound together for eternity."
James was shaking with desire. "Oh, God ... yes ... yes!" He brought his arms around the black-clad torso of the man holding him. Ewan pulled the other man into a tight embrace as he bit down and began to feed.
* * *
My buddy Tim and I often have quite involved chats with scenarios like this, so I decided to start a new category of entries here called "Mindfucks." A scene that gets into your head and makes (and keeps) you hard and leaking every time you think of it. The first one is always the hardest, but more will be coming!
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
The Gift
Colonel Tyler Morgan flipped off the monitor in disgust. He didn’t know what made him angrier - the scenes of the devastated Japanese countryside and spiraling crisis of the nuclear meltdowns or the rear-echelon motherfuckers in Washington that were - again - doing nothing about it.Travis Burke knocked on the open door. “May I come in, Sir?”
Morgan waved him in and the SEAL took a seat. His rippling musculature was accented by the silvery tattoos running down one arm and the low-cut black string tank left little to the imagination. His face mirrored the strain and anger of his CO.
Before Burke could open his mouth, the colonel put up a hand. “I know, son. I know. I can feel the whole damn facility just itching to do something. But we can’t. We’re running so deep undercover now that we’re barely getting funds from DC any more - Sid’s financing everything at this point - we’re better off that way. Those maggots back home would be crawling over everything we’ve accomplished here if they actually knew about the Castle."
“Any way you could talk to the Big Guy directly, sir?”
Tyler made a face and shook his head. “You-Know-Who is far too busy with other important matters of state … like playing golf or filling in his NCAA brackets.” He cursed under his breath.
“We could use a proxy, sir. Someone we trust implicitly and who feels the same way. And is willing to be the public face for what we can do to help.”
Morgan’s cock twitched. Travis and LOKI always had this damned effect on him. He smiled ruefully to himself. That’s probably why he was the one to come to me with this idea.
“I’m listening, Travis …”
* * *
Japanese Prime Minister Naoto Kan got into his sedan. As soon as the door closed, the car pulled away from the curb and into the heavy city traffic. The executives at Toyko Electric Power had avoided directly answering him when he asked, “What the hell is going on?” and he was still fuming at their circumlocution. He had been so distracted by the current situation, he had failed to realize that the driver had missed the exit and was speeding out of the city.“Are you asleep? You missed the exit … wait! You’re not Shinji !!”
The driver engaged the locks on the doors. He looked into the rearview mirror at his passenger. “I apologize for the deception, Minister, but you need to see someone about the current situation. It will be a short meeting, sir. No harm will come to you.”
Kan opened his cellphone to dial the emergency number. It was dead. The driver looked apologetic. “We needed to block your phone, sir. This meeting is vitally important. We only have the best interests of Japan and her people in mind.”
The Prime Minister’s mind spun. Who were these people that could replace his driver and render some of the most sophisticated electronics inert? An icy calm settled over him as the car sped towards its unknown destination.
* * *
Kan noticed that the car took the Mitaka exit and slowed to a stop in front of a normal looking one story bungalow. The door locks disengaged. The driver turned to him. “Please go in, sir. I’ll be out here waiting to bring you home.”
The Prime Minister exited the car, ascended the steps and went into the house. He caught the gentle scent of jasmine tea as he entered the living room. A young Caucasian man stood up and gave him a formal bow. The man had wavy black hair, dark eyes and a small moustache over sensuous lips. In the corner of the room, stood what he assumed was the man’s powerfully muscled bodyguard. He was dressed in a tight, black formfitting suit with a front pouch that was straining to hold his massive manhood. The face was covered by the same material with silvery mirrored lenses and a grilled mask covering his nose and mouth. His arms were crossed and he too gave Kan a bow when he took notice of him and then resumed his position.“Please forgive this impromptu meeting, Sir. What I have to discuss is something that could not be done through official channels.” He gave a small smile. “Then again, I highly doubt that I would have been able to even speak with you regardless of the matter.”
“Who are you, and why did you abduct me like this?” Kan demanded.
The dark-haired man gestured for him to take a seat. “My name is Lucio Giambi and I am the head of a crime syndicate that makes your Yakuza look like Girl Scouts.”
The Prime Minister stared at him, flabbergasted. The dark clad man had left the room and now returned, bearing a tray of tea. He poured the fragrant infusion into two beautifully detailed porcelain cups. Giambi continued.“I have been asked to represent an organization that must remain anonymous for various reasons. We have the means of removing the radiation threat from the Fukushima reactors permanently. However, we need you to provide some cover for us to do this.” The man was absolutely magnetic and completely serious.
Kan's eyes narrowed. “What do you and this 'organization' want in return?”
Lucio smiled over the rim of his teacup. “Nothing. Neither I nor the organization I represent feel that there should be any profit from your misfortune. To even entertain that notion is completely without honor or compassion. We will need you to make sure that there are no people present within a 50-mile radius from the reactors at 10pm this evening.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I can’t give you specifics. What I can tell you is by 11pm the radiation threat will be eliminated. There will be many questions in the morning, and you will need to have some explanations - albeit contrived - ready.”
Giambi stood up. “My driver will take you back to Tokyo now. Again, I apologize for the subterfuge... Are we agreed, sir?”
Kan reached out and grasped the proffered hand. He believed in this criminal more than his own asinine executives.
“We are. Thank you Mr. Giambi.”
* * *
Five hundred miles above Japan, space shivered as a wormhole established itself. In a moment, THOR, a silvery orb the size of a basketball, soared through the portal and began to reconfigure. It grew larger and larger until it was the size of a small car. Then he then began to alter his shape until he resembled a cannon-shaped tube with a parabolic collar around the center. A smaller dish configured itself on the side and a blue-green laser link established itself with the Castle.
“I’m in position and configured for the nuclear stabilization beam.”
ODIN spoke to THOR. “That was fast. Countdown is T minus 10 minutes. How’s the view up there?”
“Nice. You should let me out more often.”
ODIN chuckled as he terminated the connection.
* * *
Naoto Kan stood next to his car in the darkness. He was 20 miles from the Fukushima reactors. He looked at his watch - the glowing numerals showed the time: 9:57pm. He put the night vision binoculars back to his eyes. His breath was warm through the particulate mask and left a slight haze of steam in the frigid night air.
Suddenly, a bright white beam from the heavens bathed Reactor One in an actinic envelope of light; he quickly switched to regular optics. A rolling crash of thunder accompanied the shaft’s passage through the sky. Three more times the brilliant light - the Yari-Shin - he thought to himself - thrust itself into the sickened stuctures. Three more sonic booms split the darkness. The quiet of the night returned.
* * *
Associated Press
March 17, 2011
Japanese reactors quiesce
Radiation emissions at the damaged Fukushima reactors dropped precipitously overnight to normal levels and no further discharges are being seen from the earthquake and tsunami-ravaged structures. Prime Minister Naoto Kan issued a statement early this morning indicating that emergency measures were taken last night to bring the runaway reactions under control, but was reticent in discussing specifics. Cleanup crews are being dispatched to remove the fuel rods and secure the facilities in the event of further aftershocks.
* * *
If it only were this easy.
If you can, please help out the people suffering in Japan. Here’s a list of authorized charities:
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Blue
I really enjoy my NYPD uniforms and I would have to say that the motorcop one is my favorite. There's just something about breeches, tall boots, tight leather gloves and a helmet that really, really turns my crank.
I think in some fashion it reminds me of an armored knight in the Excalibur mold - strong and well-muscled, invested with symbols of authority and power ... plus being lusty and oversexed as hell!
My buddy Maskedfreak has been nudging me for quite some time now to get myself a video camera, and I've been holding back. I wasn't sure that I'd be good enough "in movies" as I am in stills. Sort of the same thought that not all models can be actors - look at Jack Scalia.
So, all that nudging finally paid off and I got myself a video camera. I did my first video. It's been posted on Youtube.
The link is:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NDWf7Qq9u_Q
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NDWf7Qq9u_Q
Take a look and let me know what you think. This was actually the second take - I got about halfway through the video when I realized I left something in the other room. Maskedfreak said I should have kept that as an "blooper" section, but I didn't - live and learn for the next one!
I had fun making this and I do intend to do some more!
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