Date: Fri, 9 Jun 2017 16:51:52 -0400
From: Orson Cadell <orson.cadell@gmail.com>
Subject: Ravens Claw

This story and its characters are fiction and based on no one outside my
head. If any character resembles you or someone you know, I WANT DETAILS,
you lucky fucker, preferably with photos! It is, of course, copyrighted by
the author with all rights reserved and very, very negotiable. Do not
repost without permission Also, keep the cum coming -- Donate to Nifty
**TODAY** at donate.nifty.org/donate.html! I'm an old guy. I know what it
was like when you had to BUY porn. Five miles uphill both ways in the snow
just to GET to the XXX store. You whippersnapper don't know how good you've
got it.

This involves sex between teens and between teens and adult males; if that
is illegal for who/where you may be right now, go away! Get thee to a
monastery (where you might just find scenes similar to some below). Also,
please note that all my stories exist in a world where STDs are neither
common nor deadly. Don't be an idiot; use protection. 'To die for' sex
should never lead to your actual death.

Feedback from readers is important to me, but if you get off on flaming
people, please know that you will HATE the results. I will read your
missive and weave you and your comments into the nasty parts of my next
story to the point that you cry like a little girl. Bullies get as bullies
give.

*****

Raven's Claw 1: First Class

By Bear Pup

*****

"Start at the beginning? First thing I remember? Okay...

"I woke up slowly and hurt a lot. My shoulder was killing me, which was
stupid since it was my left shoulder and I'd sprained my right one. I went
to stretch it and found I couldn't and slowly peeled my eyes open, or
tried. One was glued shut with sleep-gunk. The one that opened made me
cringe. Everything was white, like brilliant, painful white. When it
adjusted, I started to panic. It was clear that I was in a hospital room
and strapped into a gurney or bed or something.

"I heard a voice say it was gonna be okay and to stay calm. He called me
'son'. I spun my head to the voice and almost passed out as a wave of
whatever passed over me. I saw a big guy, probably 30, in blue hospital
scrubs. He was, um...

"Yeah, I know, as much detail as possible and be completely honest. It's
still hard to say. He was a hunk, I mean, sexually attractive? To me? I'm
sorry, it's just real hard to say things like that."

Daniel turned to Rob, "I assume that was Howie?" Rob nodded.

"He reached forward and wiped something warm and wet across my face. My
lips were real parched which I thought was odd, but he wiped away the sleep
and I could open both eyes. I noticed it didn't really smell like a
hospital, disinfectant stuff, you know? I could sm-smell him. And it, um,
yeah-yeah! I know. Ah, he smelled really good.

"He told me not to talk and that was hurt in 'a crash' and I tried to ask
what he meant and he shushed me again.

"What do I remember about, um, before? Well, we'd been at the meet over in
Auburndale, way over past Lakeland. We were the last of the schools to
leave because The AC, Assistant Coach Sparks, wouldn't shut up about all
the shit we'd done wrong. I mean, hell, we came in third as a team and
Jackson and Ned both took firsts. Coach Davis was clearly unhappy about
that, but didn't say anything even though we kept turning desperate looks
in his direction.

"Finally, we piled into the team van all of us hungry, grumpy and exhausted
as we left the campus for home in New Tampa. Several of us were already on
our phones, calling or texting unhappy parents awaiting our arrival.

"We were barely out of the parking lot when all hell broke
loose. Everything went white and the engine roared and we got thrown around
hard. There was a lot of water. That's it. I tried to ask him to explain
but couldn't say anything really. He seemed to know what I was asking,
though.

"He said 'the flash' made Coach David lose control and hit the water and
that I'd been hurt, but it was actually a good thing because the water
absorbed a lot of the shock wave. That at first everybody thought we'd been
attacked by, you know, the Coalition that was pissed off about all the
warlike shit and threats from the President but that wasn't it at all.

"The attack came from space. They were RKKVs, you know, just like in Mass
Effect? They took out pretty much every country's military in a matter of
minutes. Then the Raven's Claw announced that it was there to bring peace
and something-something. Whatever. Take over, basically.

"And they did. Everything we knew is gone. There isn't a US or any
countries at all. That I've, well, the whole team has been in 'relativistic
stasis' for over five years. That you patched us back together. That, that,
um, women run things from Homeworld and the brightest and best men are
selected each year to have their sperm used as seed for that
generation. That, um, that men are never allowed on Homeworld and that
women are rarely off it.

"And, um, that men form their own families now. That dirtsiders, guys like
us that grew up on planet surfaces, are the most sought-after because we're
muscular and that makes us, uh, attractive and valuable, especially if
we're into sports and stuff. And we need to be trained as husbands. That we
might have all sorts of careers but that only the one-percenters, the best
and brightest, will ever have important jobs in the Protectorate because
the spacers are so far advanced. And the spacers are almost always the
First-Husbands of a family. That. That I'll. That we'll be..."

The boy started to cry at that point. Aaron had reached his limit, and the
recording ended. Daniel turned to Rob, the tech. "So how much does he
really believe?"

Rob flipped through a bewildering variety of screens. "Dilation and skin
reactions show that the parts he doubts are being out of it for years and
the phrase 'relativistic stasis'. Not so much as a flicker on the Realistic
Kinetic Kill Vehicles or even the arrival of the Raven's Claw. You gotta
love video games, boss! He shows real resentment and ambition on the
one-percenters things, which is good. We can use that. Overall, not the
best of the bunch -- that'd be Aaron's brother Bobby and the AC's kid,
Junior. But not far behind. Nothing like as resistant as Paolo or Vinny."

"Hmm." I thought for a minute. "How are the implants healing? How we tested
them on all of the subjects?"

"You'll have to ask Wilkin on that one, but I hear they went fine. I know
they had to redo four of the nine subprostate ones, so they must have been
testing things pretty thoroughly to know. I think I heard only one of the
C2-C3 spinal units had to be worked on, and it was an alignment thing; they
didn't even have to replace it. Like I said, Wilkins' world for that
stuff." Rob sighed.

"Yeah, you can't even see the scars. Fuck, Doctor, Aaron is a beauty, isn't
he?" Rob's voice was low and reverent, and filled with animal lust. "God, I
hope this works! I can't wait--"

"Well, Rob, afraid you'll have to. I'll make sure to put you near the top
for Aaron, though." Rob looked at Daniel like a puppy.

"Really?"

Daniel laughed, "Sure. You've done a hell of a job, Rob, and I'll make sure
you get rewarded." He smiled slowly. "Actually... I'll tell you a
secret. The Howitzer is restless, " Dan had Rob's undivided attention with
that. "And a little birdy tells me that his eyes never leave the ass of a
certain Monitoring Psych guy in the mess hall." Rob *almost* suppressed a
little whimper as he adjusted his suddenly-painful crotch. "Good luck."

Daniel, Dr Daniel Vogel, left the instantly-preoccupied tech to his lustful
thoughts and went down the hall to Dr Edvard Wilkin's office and confirmed
Rob's hearsay. No trace of scarring would be visible to the subjects and
all of the implants performed to spec.

Back in his own office, Daniel wrote up his report and updated the project
plan, then sent a meeting invite to his primary team. His was a small crew,
one of the smallest in the Raven's Claw Primary complex but with
insanely-lucrative opportunities.

The sexual-slavery market was booming alongside the insatiable drive for
new sexual enhancements for the Average Joe; the implants and methods being
tested by the Libido project could be worth billions. The military, of
course, provided the seed money and the majority of profits so far with
testing being done in the larger Metabolic and Sensory Augmentation
projects, and the Induced OCD project showed real promise for several
industries, especially banking. But his small lab held what could be the
key to Ravensclaw Inc's fortunes.

The irony was that most of the subjects on all the projects were within an
hour or two of their former homes and families. In fact, the parental
rendezvous Aaron and his teammates had missed three nights before at
Freedom High was less than six miles from where the lab sat. Funny old
world.

*****

The glowing stripe on the floor turned suddenly, leading Aaron into a
massively-long room with a variety of equipment, mostly familiar and
low-tech, others of unguessable functions, all against the large
windows. All seemed to revolve around testing or exercising the human body.

Aaron had barely made it through the door when he was bowled over by a
bundle of tearful energy. Bobby had literally leapt into his arms and was
hugging and crying onto his brother shamelessly. In fact, Aaron felt
exactly the same way, but he'd never have the guts to put on such a
display! There was no one else in the room yet, so he indulged his brother,
cooing and calming the younger guy.

Aaron got Bobby detached just as Vinny walked through the door, a serious
stutter in his usually-cocky demeanor. He let out a long, shuddering sigh
when he saw the brothers and teammates there and Aaron could see him
physically shake himself into the tough-guy persona he normally wore.

"Hey guys. Good'ta sees youse made it." No one knew how much of Vinny's
Jersey Made-Man accent was real and how much was show. It was clear that
some of it was fake, though. Aaron gave him a fist-bump and Bobby came in
with a bro-hug. Vinny moved to lean against one of the familiar resistance
machines.

Paolo was next. He stopped dead in the doorway, closed his eyes, crossed
himself vigorously and began to pray fervently under his breath. He made no
pretense of a tough attitude; he didn't need to. He was a ferocious
competitor and demanded (and got) respect from everyone on and off the
team. Unlike Vinny who rubbed his presumed Italian heritage in everyone's
face, Paolo's own (real) Brazilian pedigree was never mentioned.  He even
went by Paul at school to downplay it.

Ned slipped behind and past the immovable Paolo and went straight for
Bobby. They shared a long, intense bro-hug and it was clear both were
crying. "Yo! Break up the fag-fest, guys!" Vinny could always be counted on
to ruin anything involving respect and emotion. Aaron wondered if he hadn't
gotten the memo; everyone was 'faggy' now in this brave new world.

Ned just glared at the Italian bully and came over and gave Aaron a bro-hug
as well, then glanced at Paolo. All of the guys knew not to bother talking
to him while he was praying. He'd never hear you.  Ned and Bobby had been
friends for years, and Bobby was the one who talked Ned into trying out for
JV Wrestling the year before. Turned out, he was a natural with an uncanny
sense of balance and leverage. In just over a year, he'd become a young
star for the Freedom High Patriots. He and Bobby ended up on a weight
bench, but sat enough apart to prove that Vinny's taunt had struck a nerve.

Jackson was next, and he had to physically shift Paolo further into the
room to get past. Paul never noticed or paused his prayers. Jackson was
massive, the only Patriot in the Heavyweight class. In the off season, he
had flirted with exceeding the High School max weight of 285, all of it
muscle, and the coach had nearly killed him for bulking up so heavy. His
nearly-hairless chocolate skin also seemed to exaggerate the muscles
underneath. He fist-bumped Vinny, then each of the others before settling
on a groaning incline bench. That made the team complete.

They all turned when a seventh kid came in. Vinny snarled at him in
contempt. Junior was the AC's son. He hated the sport -- any sports -- but
the AC was ruthless and forced him to compete in all three seasons. He did
cross country in the fall, wrestling now in the winter and baseball in the
spring. Junior actually was merely bad at cross, but rarely left the bench
in baseball season. He was in the mini-flyweight class for wrestling which
maxed out at 106 pounds; Junior would be lucky to weigh in at 95. He didn't
suck, per se, but the only time he placed was when there were four or less
boys in his class at a meet.

Paul crossed himself and greeted all of us with fist bumps except for
Junior who got a bro hug. Paul had made Junior his mission this year, as
much to defy the AC as to help the kid specifically. In turn, Junior openly
worshipped the Senior. It wasn't uncommon for some of the crueler guys to
call him 'Paul's Puppy' -- but only if they were absolutely certain that
Paul couldn't hear them.

They were just starting to fidget when six men walked in. Two were eerily
tall and stood to the back, impassive and aloof. One ebony-black and the
other a ghostly, almost-translucent pale. Daniel stepped forward from the
group.

"Gentlemen, welcome to Rehab/Re-Ed Thirty-One. I'm Dr Daniel Vogel. You can
call me Daniel. I'm the project lead for your group. Behind us, you'll see
our honored guests and patrons, Protectorate Representatives Jo-Pol and
Tze-Xun. To my right is Dr Redmond who will keep you medically healthy. To
my left are Mr Devlin -- you'll call him Howie -- who will teach you
health, fitness and sex, and Carter French who will be instructing you on
economics, home skills, sexuality and society."

"You mentioned sex twice, dude," Vinny sneered.

"Actually, Vinny, I didn't. Sex and Sexuality are two very different
subjects now. Sex is physical and tends to be tactical and immediate;
Sexuality is emotional and mental and tends to be strategic. If you want to
find a place in a suitable family you will need some expertise with both
and be able to show a First-Husband why you should be chosen."

"And if we don't want to be a fag and join some queer's fake-family? What
then, huh?"

Daniel turned fully to face Vinny and his bravado. "You certainly don't
have to, Mr Bianchi. You'll likely find it incredibly difficult to make a
living without a family, and it is a lonely life. But some choose it. There
are some monastic communities -- not religious, of course, religions are
gone -- but men devoted to a sexless life who have joined common cause,
usually around some craft."

"Fuck that and fuck you! It's all bullshit, guys! I'm straight and I am
going to have a family with a real wife, you faggot bastards!"

"Gentlemen, Mr Bianchi will be leaving us for a few minutes." With no
warning at all, Vinny dropped like a puppet with cut strings. "He'll be
back shortly. Please note that rudeness, incivility and violence will never
be tolerated. Argument and debate are welcome, but if you want to hurl
insults or refuse to cooperate in your instruction, the minimum that will
happen is that you'll be switched off for a few minutes.

"Please be sure that the Protectorate technology can do just about
anything, including pain so severe it can lead to insanity or death, though
that's never used outside Protectorate Tribunals. Please don't forget that
you are being given a rare and precious privilege with this training, one
that few planet-dwelling men will ever get. It can be withdrawn in an
instant. Ah, I see Mr Bianchi is rejoining us.

"Vinny, I strongly suggest that you remain civil from now on." Vinny slowly
got to his feet, shaky and uncertain. "Now, let's continue. Before his
unfortunate outburst, Vinny raised a good question about the difference
between Sex and Sexuality instruction. There are men of the Protectorate
that rate one far more highly than the other, but we'll be instructing you
in both. Most often, the Sex aspects are less critical. A strong understand
of Sexuality can overcome lack of skills but rarely is the reverse true. Mr
French is, therefore, critical to your success."

They all looked to the small, neat man. That little voice in Aaron's head
that he tried so hard to strangle whispered, 'Damn. He's sex on a stick!'
What seemed strange was that no feature seemed, well, sexy. Something in
the way he held himself, how he looked at people, how he smiled or
frowned. Taken together, the package was , Aaron thought fearfully, nearly
irresistible.

He shook himself. Was it really possible that his deepest secret, the thing
he'd spent a lifetime hiding, was no longer a liability, but a real asset?
That's if the men were to be believed. Could he afford to make that leap?
He snapped himself back as he found Daniel's voice had turned to the man
Aaron had first seen on waking.

Howie was a mountain, dwarfing even Jackson's bulk. He was easily six-six
and it was impossible to guess a weight. Even with the skin-tights shirt
and compression pants -- that, Aaron blushed to note, left nothing at all
to the imagination -- there just wasn't a formula to guess the mass of that
amount of sheer muscle. The man's voice, when he spoke, sent shivers
through Aaron. It was a leonine growl; like the rest of him, his voice was
pure male animal.

"I'll concentrate on your bodies in the way that Mr French will help you
develop you minds. You are mostly in excellent physical shape for
wrestling, but that is no longer your life-path. You need a more
well-rounded physique, an utterly healthy lifestyle and a thorough
understand of how your body and those of your eventual husbands work at the
most-granular level."

The huge man turned to the crazy-tall, aloof men at the back and half
bowed. "Patrons, with your permission, may I begin their training?" He got
the slightest nod and seemed to relax immediately, as if he was seriously
worried about the 'patron's' reaction. The other men filed out of the room
behind the Protectorate men and Howie closed the door.

When he turned, he was smiling. As athletes, though, they knew that smile
all too well. It was the smile of a coach ready to destroy and rebuild a
group of young men, and to do so with relish. He bellowed for the guys to
strip (easy enough in the hospital scrubs) and threw each a jock. They
didn't realize it at the time, but it was pretty much all they'd wear for
the rest of the tenure at Raven's Claw. Over the next four, brutal hours,
every one of the guys was pushed to and beyond his limits. Some machines
had complex masks or sensors while other were commonplace. Strength,
pressure, stamina -- everything was tested.

At the end, they were spaced across the entire open part of the room. They
were made to run side-run drills the entire length of the room until they
literally puked. When each man finally succumbed, a little robot rushed out
and cleaned up the vomit and vanished, leaving behind a bottle of
blue-tinged water that soothed, slaked and cooled instantly.

The team sat (actually laid panting) amazed that the last man standing was
none other than Junior. He utterly ignored Howie's screams and
exhortations, but clearly was pushing himself to his limits. He made two
more lengths before his gait faltered and he finally bent over, heaving
powerfully. Howie heaped praise on the startled young man leading him over
the group once he revived with a proud hand on the boy's shoulder.

"That, gentlemen, is how you hustle. He's the last standing and the only
man among you who stayed upright even when he was blowing chunks. Okay -
Showers! NOW!"

He double-timed them to the end of the room and through a doorway. There
was no locker room (what would go in it?), just a bin for used jocks and a
rack with fresh ones hung by size, ready for use. Howie, who they all
mentally thought of already as Coach, didn't leave, though. He stripped as
well and entered the long shower room with six showerheads to each side.

"Skins to my left, Bares to my right!" We looked at each other. "Come on,
you wimps! Those with a foreskin, to the left! Those who have misplaced
theirs, to my right!" Blushing, we sorted ourselves. Jackson, Paul and
Junior lined up on the left side; the Wagner brothers, Aaron and Bobby,
lined up to the right with Ned and Vinny.

Howie walked up to Ned and the boy squawked when the man grabbed his junk
and pulled his dick forward. "Hmm. Not really much left below the
scar. We'll have to see about that later." He moved to Vinny who jumped
away from him.

"Back off, faggot!"

The last word had to be guessed, as he barely the 'f' out before he was on
the soft, not-quite-tiles of the shower floor, unconscious. Howie bent down
and examined him closely and said to the air, "Make note that Vinny is
similar. Not really much there to work with."

Aaron stood frozen, petrified, as he felt Howie handling his junk. Counting
backwards and envisioning dead kittens was insufficient, though, as the
towering man's thick musk hit him and his dick launched toward
erect. "Hmm. Good. Glad to get some cooperation. Okay, even erect there is
a good bundle left around the glans. We can work with that." He caressed
the shaft a little more until he was sure it was full to Aaron's
mortification. "I think probably a six-by-two to start?"

Bobby was already chubbed when Howie got there and the man smiled. "Good,
son, just like that. Nothing to be worried or scared about. Yeah, I think
the same person probably did you both. Nice fringe left and we can really
work with that. Probably a five-by-two on you."

He turned and went back to the middle. "Even those without foreskins, or
those who might get one later, pay close attention. You need to know how to
keep yourselves and your husbands clean." He moved to Jackson and turned
the nearest showerhead on to a trickle.

"First, grab the base of the cock and peel the foreskin as far back as it
will go, then gather than skin in your fist. With your free hand, get some
water and cleanser -- never, ever use soap! Even if your husband prefers it
for everything else -- and wash round and round the back edge of the
glans. He'll likely do like Jackson here and get hard, quickly -- it's okay
to moan son, you're gonna bite your tongue off if you're not careful -- but
keep going over the entire head except for the meatus, that's the
piss-slit, until you are damned sure no pre or cheese is left anywhere.

"Now do the same to the exposed inside of the foreskin you've pulled
back. Rinse thoroughly at least twice before returning the skin to its
normal place." He let go and Jackson sagged back against the tile wall,
panting hard. He moved to Junior who was hard as a rock and shaking
violently. "Most husbands love it and will already be rock hard like Junior
here long before you start. You're a good man, son, keep at it."

He filled his hand with cleanser and a trickle of water and put the other
hand on Junior's shoulder, speaking softly and reassuringly. "Just relax,
son, you're doing fine. This won't hurt a bit. In fact, it's gonna do
everything BUT hurt." Howie reached down and skinned Junior's hard cock and
wrapped his huge paw around the violently-pink head. "If your husband is
hard and pressed for time, use the daily cleansing as a chance to relieve a
little pressure. You'll both be thankful for it later. Breathe, son,
breathe. I can't do this if you pass out on me.

"With Jackson, I cleaned around and around. This is equally effective and,
for many husbands, a lot more enjoyable. See how I'm holding the head and
top inch or so of the shaft with all fingers and palm wrapped around? Good,
now just twist around and back quickly, just like this. You're washing what
needs to be cleaned, the head and the inner surface of the foreskin. For
some, you'll need some up-and-down action as well, but for many like Junior
here --- THERE you go, son! Excellent -- He'll blow like Arrival Day
fireworks."

Junior was mewling and hunching, shooting easily five or six feet across
the shower floor. He was also crying in humiliation and shame at having
been brought off in front of everyone, but the rest of us stood (or in
Vinny's case, lay) in stunned amazement at the volume and distance the
'nobody' on the team produced.

"Ned, you practice with Paolo. Aaron and Booby, you with each other. I'll
work with the newly-revived Vinny. Jackson and Junior, shower up and good
job. You have some points to spend for helping out. Junior more than any of
you. " He slapped the trembling boy on the back. "Damn good job, son. Damn
good."

Ned looked like he was going to puke again as he approached the
hyper-masculine Paolo, but the stud just stood stoically and unruffled as
the younger teen cleaned his most-intimate parts, eventually pulling back
with a smile and a soft, barely audible "Obrigado cabra," 'thanks, dude,'
before he got too far down the cum path.

Bobby's eyes reflected the panic in Aarons as they reached for each other,
horrified that each could read the desires they'd each hidden as deeply as
each knew how. Neither guessed or darted to hope what was actually true,
that each brother had always lusted for the other. They were both
perfunctory in the extreme, pulling away as if branded by the burning and
rampant cock of the other.

In the control room, Rob mumbled, "Well now. How 'bout that," as he
scribbled notes that would be vital to Daniel in the coming weeks. That the
brothers were desperate for each other's touch and equally terrified of it
was useful in the extreme.

He turned his attention to Vinny. Howie had just reached down to the
youth's limp dick as Vinny scowled in contempt. "Oh, now, that won't do at
all," murmured Rob as he used a short series of keystrokes.

Everyone in the room, even over the thrum of the showers, hear Vinny's
shuddering gasp. His dick leapt to incredible hardness in an instant and
began to leak precum even as Vinny watched in mounting horror. It took
perhaps a third of the time and nowhere near the action it had with Junior
before Vinny's orgasm hit and he began to bubble cum down Howie's arm.

"Now," the giant smirked at the mortified and utterly undone Vinny, "that
didn't seem so bad for a... straight boy now did it?"

<eof>

If you want to get mail notifying you of new postings or give me ANY
feedback that could make me a better author, e-mail me at
orson.cadell@gmail.com

Active storelines, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay...
Canvas Hell: 28 chapters .../camping/canvas-hell/
Beaux Thibodaux: 19 chapters .../adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/
The Heathens: 21 chapters .../historical/the-heathens/
Lake Desolation: 13 chapters .../rural/lake-desolation/
Dear John Letter: 3 chapter .../military/dear-john-letter/
Shark Reef: 6 chapters .../adult-youth/shark-reef/
Culberhouse Rules: 4 chapters .../incest/culberhouse-rules/

Just finished, rewritten and typeset: Off the Magic Carpet in PDF or eBook
formats. Let me know if you're interested. The price is right: Whatever you
think it's worth!

Special collaboration with Brad Borris: In God's Love (5 installments)
.../incest/in-gods-love/