Date: Tue, 20 Jun 2017 20:10:55 -0400
From: Orson Cadell <orson.cadell@gmail.com>
Subject: Raven's Claw 4

See original story (www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/ravens-claw/) for
warnings and copyright. Highlights: All fiction. All rights
reserved. Includes sex between young-adult and adult men. Go away if any of
that is against your local rules. Practice safer sex than my
characters. Write if you like, but flamers end up in the nasty bits of
future stories. Donate to Nifty **TODAY** at donate.nifty.org/donate.html
to keep the cum coming.

*****

Daniel smiled. He had decided that the Assistant Coach Matt Sparks would be
his personal project. Using their protocols, technologies and developments
alone, they would break the AC. Corporate, damn their eyes, was absolutely
right; getting this guy to market as a submissive and complaint muscle-stud
slave would be the ultimate triumph. He was already spending his stock
options while he slowly caressed his own leaking erection. 'Hmm,' Daniel
thought, 'I wonder if I have enough to buy him for myself...' He yanked his
hand away as he realized just how close that thought had brought him to
ruining a very nice pair of shorts.

*****

WARNING: This chapter contains a description of a VERY DISTURBING video
showing a CGI portrayal of brutal and viscous father-son sex. Please skip
the section outlined with ^^^^^^^^^ if that is likely to upset you (it
upset me!). It exists simply because it is needful to explain one of the
characters.

Raven's Claw 4: Points

By Bear Pup

*****

Daniel was a bit muzzy and still blinking sleepily. He had hated mornings
his entire life, then chosen a life's-work that had him at work by six
every fucking morning. The coffee was finally starting to kick in, though,
which helped -- along with one of Redmond's early creations when working on
stim-chem. Nicknamed Folgers, it had been useless in providing erections or
other sexual effects, but was quite effective on focus. Ravensclaw, Inc.,
had already licensed it to one of the major pharm companies. They'd be
rolling it out as a competitor for Nuvigil in less than a year, and both
companies stood to make a fortune in this sleep-deprived world.

Mornings, however, were critically-important in the protocols. While not
everyone wakes up with morning wood in the wide world, they sure as hell
did in the new universe Raven's Claw.

Travis was still on from the overnight shift and Rob had just arrived,
disgustingly-chipper. Howie was in the room as well along with Dr Wilkin
and John Weatherman, the tall, pale Protectorate the subjects knew only as
Tze-Xun. They were going over some of the day's plans as the caffeine did
it's morning job, and Rob and Travis did theirs. Other started to trickle
in as well.

"Sean's up... and up, of course," Travis smirked. Sean without an erection
would be headline news and his internal clock always woke him around 6:30.

"Start a morning pattern on Aaron, then." Daniel was proud that the
carefully-timed pulses of prostate stimulation were well-honed for morning
wood, close to 100% success with erections, 80% for significant sexual
arousal and over 40% with an urgent need for sex on waking. Daniel watched
as Sean draped himself artfully so that every one of his best features
would be displayed to maximum effect when Aaron woke. "Make sure you keep
orgasmic response clamped down. No wet dreams this morning, guys."

Aaron woke himself with his own moan and popped upright in horror. He
looked over at Sean and started to shake with a mixture of mortified
embarrassment and unabated animal lust.

"Morning, sleepyhead." Sean stretched luxuriantly in the low light. The
rooms all had an artificial but effective dawn-glow by that point. "Sleep
well?"

Aaron swallowed several times and then moved like a sleepwalker to the side
of Sean's bed. Sean watched him like a hawk, as did the half-dozen men in
the monitoring room. Aaron stopped, trembling, just short of the bed
itself, not quite letting his leg touch the one Sean draped over the side.

"Y-y-y-y-you, um, you said, you said it was okay to t-t-touch without, um,
you know, even asking?"

"Always, Aaron." The boy's hands nearly shot forward and Sean moaned as he
felt the hands stroke his skin. A series of high-fives erupted in the
control room. All they had to do now was make sure it set deeply enough
that Aaron had the courage to do the same with a teammate, not just Sean.

"Damn, Aaron, you are so, so hot. Can I, um, do more than touch, mate?"
Aaron nodded spastically and let loose a moan loud enough to echo in the
monitoring room as Sean's mouth took the youth's dick deep in his
throat. Aaron threw back his head and stood trembling, then looked down and
literally dove into Sean's crotch, rooting like a bear with honey.

*****

"Um, guys?" It was Rob's voice. "I've got something strange on the sick
bastard." The audience turned from the hot 69 action to the monitor with
Assistant Coach Sparks. He'd flogged himself to sleep in near-screaming
frustration and had woken earlier, perhaps around 4:30, returning
immediately to the 'rebel' porn site. He screamed in rage when the screen
flipped from a scene with a woman getting spit-roasted on a sling between
some skinhead types, to an intense edging scene where two guys used a
vibrating wand to drive another guy, tied to the chair, to a begging,
screaming need to cum.

"FUCK! I hate this fag shit!"

"Not as much as you will in a minute," Rob muttered. He *really* didn't
like this guy, which made the job so much easier. He flicked a switch to
completely release the erectile block. He put one finger on a slider,
instinctively pushing the prostate stim to max whenever the man in the
chair got particularly vocal, and never letting it go below mid-level,
constant stimulation.

"What the hell?" Daniel's voice shook a little. "Wilkin, look at the power
indicator."

"Sensor failure." Wilkin's voice was confident.

"No, doctor, it's not. I can feel it fading and becoming erratic." Rob
said.

"Impossible." Wilkin shook his head. "With the way he's flogging it, the
piezo alone would power it, not to mention the feed off his body's EM
field. Has to be a sensor." His voice was losing confidence quickly as he
watched other gauges tell the same story. Power was failing.

"Dr Wilkin, it's a bad time to dismiss your own axiom -- everything is
impossible until it happens. Now, snap past that and tell me if we'll lose
orgasmic control."

He was shaking his head, but said, "Yeah. Yes. If the power rates continue
as shown, we have, um, six or seven minutes, tops?"

"Fuck! Howie! Any idea how to salvage this?"

"Fuck-fuck-fuck. Uh, we'll have to switch him off. It will mean starting
ov..." A fierce scowl took his features. "Damn it! I really, really didn't
want to do this! Like, ever. Wilkins, get on the third station.  I need
your AV skills and need them now. Patch in video 903, right now, from
start."

Everyone just stared at Howie. 903 was the most controversial piece of
footage they had, and Howie himself had lobbied to have it destroyed. It
was a nasty piece of work captured from a Russian ring a few years before
and back-channeled to Raven's Claw. That fact that it was (apparently)
cutting-edge CGI and not actual people did little to make it more
palatable. "NOW!"

Wilkin jumped at the command and forced his shaky fingers to flip the AC's
video feed to the scene. Daniel jumped forward quickly to make sure that
the audio would be filtered. No one could stomach the audio track from this
one.... well, no one, apparently, but the AC.

.  ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Stop Reading Here .

The scene showed a boy, young, pubic hair grown in but not much more. He
was jacking off a four-inch dick to a gay rag. You only saw that for a
moment before the view was occluded by the massive bulk of a man. A
big-bellied, hairy brute of a Russian Bear. Even without the audio,
everyone turned away from the monitor of the feed, focusing on the Sparks
instead.

The man in the video clip was clearly the boy's father. They looked nearly
identical except for age and size. The boy's eye got huge but he froze a
moment too long. The man was screaming obscenities as he grabbed the
magazine and began to beat the kid with it, brutal slaps to the face, back
and forth, over and over.

Everyone jumped when the AC's voice growled out, "Fuck yeah! Show your kid
what being a fag will get him. Fucking queer. Give it to him, you Commie
asshole."

Even Howie gasped at that. His voice was shaking. "R-R-Rob. Transfer
controls to Wilkin, then put on your headphones and go back to the regular
subjects. Travis, headphones, now! I'd suggest everyone but Wilkins take a
coffee break. This is gonna be bad, real bad." There was a mass-exodus to
the door, leaving only the two headphoned techs, Wilkin who was white as a
sheet, Howie and Daniel.

"Sorry, Howie. I don't want to be here and may puke, but I can't leave you
in this without cover." Howie nodded brusquely. On the monitor, Sparks was
jacking himself and licking his lips, utterly enthralled with the scene.

"Wilkins, stim to max and leave it there unless we're close to losing
power, then holler." The video clip showed the brute wrench his son across
his lap and rip the boy's pants down and off. He proceeded to lay into a
remorseless, merciless thrashing. He beat the kid's rapidly-reddening ass
without any sort of restraint or concern for his own son's body or
mind. Even with the sound filtered, it was clear the kid was screaming in
Russian and sobbing, begging for his father to stop, begging to explain or
even just to have a moment's respite. When the father spit into his hand to
make the slaps more painful, the AC spit into his own before returning it
to jack his cock, relishing the savagery. 'Damn, this guy is a twisted
fuck,' Daniel and Howie thought at the same time.

Sparks watched, eyes glowing, as the boy stiffened suddenly and threw his
head back, howling in Russian. When the father roared in rage and disgust,
flinging his son to the floor, the AC's other hand moved to massage his
hefty balls. The boy was spasming from his spanking-induced orgasm, jizz
pumping steadily.

The father grabbed a handful and smeared it into his son's face, slapping
him brutally, but the orgasm continued. With a bellow of rage, the father
dragged his hand through the puddle and flipped his sobbing, weeping,
begging son over. He swiped his hand through his son's ass-crack and
mounted him heartlessly, ramming inch after thick inch into the
obviously-virginal boy's asshole. The AC crowed in delight at the scene of
vicious, cruel, violation. His hands were working like pistons on his cock
and balls as he reveled in the brutality and violence, exhorting the brute
to hurt the kid more and make sure he could never gain a moment's pleasure
from the horrific act.

.  ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Start Reading Again Here .

"Howie, we're losing power!" Wilkin's voice rose over the sounds of Daniel
vomiting powerfully into a wastebasket.

"Quickly! Pull the clip of Junior coming out of anesthesia. Got it? Set it
to loop for six seconds. Add reverb to the audio and switch when I tell
you. Drop the orgasm-suppression... NOW!"

To the sounds of pain and shame and horror, both the father and Sparks
started to blast their loads, one into the whimpering, screaming boy and
the other into the air. Sparks was screaming obscenities and delight at the
screen. Suddenly, the image was replaced by Junior's puffy, drowsy face as
his son's voice said, sleepily, "Daddy?" Rocked by the switch, the AC was
unable to change the course of his explosive, long-denied eruption. His
son's piteous, confused and worried voice echoed and repeated: "Dad-d-d-dy?
D-D-addy? Da-a-addy-y-y-y?" as the man's semen sprayed across the room,
slowly subsiding. It was the most-intense, prolonged and horrifying
ejaculation of his life.

Howie's voice was shaking. "Shut the bastard off." Wilkins threw a switch
and Assistant Coach Sparks flopped back, instantly unconscious even as he
continued to leak jism. "Send a security detail down to sedate the sick
piece of shit and get him onto your table. Replace the fucking implant and
make *damned* sure the new one works. I can't do that again, Wilkin. I
can't. It's not in me. And shackle that monster to the bed when you've
finished the implant. One other thing. Do NOT clean up the room or that
fucking bastard. When he wakes up, it will be in a sea of his own dried cum
and the memory of how it got there."

*****

Vinny woke slowly, rock hard and moaning slightly. He scratched then
started to stroke himself. "Oh, God. Oh, that feels good." He cracked his
eyes open and all breath left his body. Ned was across from him, his legs
tangled in the sheet. He was on his side and Ned's dick was hard and in
view. Vinny stroked harder for a moment then Ned shifted. Vinny froze and
wrenched his eyes away, screaming inside at his weakness. He tried to think
of one of the big-tittied cheerleaders going down on him and started to
shake as his hardon flagged quickly.

On the very edge of tears now, Vinny looked over as his teammate started to
stretch. His cock came back to life and seemed to *itch* with need. Vinny
whimpered, closing his eyes tightly to hold back tears. This couldn't be
happening. 'I will not cry. I am not weak. I am a man. I will not cry. I am
not gay -- WEAK! WEAK! I am not WEAK!' he started panting to keep from
sobbing.

'I will not cry. I am not weak. I am a man.' But no matter how often he
repeated it, his dick wilted and shrank. Only looking at his hunky teammate
and thinking of touching the boy changed the condition. He lost the battle
against crying and silently let the tears stream back, filling his ears and
soaking the pillow.

Vinny frantically stifled his tears and tried to wipe away all evidence as
the light brightened marginally and Ned started to waken. A soft voice
pervaded the room, quiet, calm, musical but insistent. "It is six-fifty
am. In ten minutes, you will be waking up if you are not already awake. In
ten minutes, you will get out of bed and start your day." He listened to it
repeat each minute, counting down, a little louder each time.

Around the time it got to 'four minutes' Ned made a loud schnork noise and
came awake. He rubbed his eyes with one hand and scratched his rampant cock
and itchy nuts with the other. In that half-doze of wakening, Vinny saw him
pull the scratching digits to his face and inhale deeply, purring over the
scent of his own musk.

Involuntarily, Vinny let out a whimper and turned away just as Ned turned
toward him. "Dude. Mor-r-r-r-r-rnig. Unnnnh." His hand went back to playing
with his tackle. Then froze. Slowly the previous day and night came back to
him. He thought for a minute and mentally went, 'fuck it', and kept right
on pulling. It felt good and he didn't give a flying fuck what that prick
Vinny thought.

Vinny railed, and railed hard, every time he glanced at Ned's
ministrations. It was clear the boy wasn't exactly jacking off, just
enjoying the feel of his morning wood. Ned jumped a little when the voice
announced three minutes, but went back to slow, luxuriant strokes. At
seven, the light slowly ramped to full and the voice was clear and crisp.

"Good morning! You are awake now. Pulling the covers up will not help. Get
it over with, guys. Rise and Shine. Your door is now unlocked and you can
reach the bathrooms. Don't bother showering as you will be doing that in
the Gym." It repeated variations on that for a bit as Vinny rushed over to
piss in the urinal. Groggy and rampant, Ned stumbled toward what he thought
of as 'the head', a term his dad had always used from his Navy days.

He smiled sleepily as Bobby came out followed by the AC's kid,
Junior. "Sup?" Both boys were smiling contentedly and Ned could tell at a
glance that both were chubbed coming off the dropping of a morning load. He
smiled.

*****

Bobby loathed morning. It was the worst time of every bad day. Today,
though, he drifted toward wakefulness warm, happy and content. He froze
when I recognized a snore and almost panicked when he realized he was
spooned into someone's arms. It took a few minutes for the previous night
to reassemble at which point his aching dick started to twitch
wildly. Junior, no, *Matt* was snuggled into him; one or the other had
switched beds in the night.

There was a voice whispering something he couldn't give a fuck about as he
heard Matt stop snoring and freeze in the same panic he'd just
overcome. Far more quickly that Bobby adjusted to the situation, Matt came
to himself and reached down slowly to cup and fondle Bobby's balls and then
stroke his cock.

Bobby moaned high and needy and Matt whispered, "Someone woke up happy." It
took all of five minutes for Matt to slowly, carefully and aggravatingly
drag Bobby to the brink. He was cussing and moaning like a sailor with a
whore when Matt finally relented and flogged him quickly with powerful
strokes. Bobby screamed when the orgasm hit him, flooding the sheet, his
chest and Matt's hand with his load.

He moaned again as he saw Matt's hand withdraw and even more loudly when he
heard Matt tasting his cum. He'd never felt such power and lust in his
life. He flipped around and plunged his mouth onto Matt's cock, yanking a
surprised groan from his teammate. He choked and gagged twice before
finding the right depth and rhythm. The long tease of Bobby had left Matt
with zero reserves and he came explosively in less than a minute. He could
feel the tears prickling his eyes, the pleasure was so
intense. Spontaneously, he pulled Bobby up and kissed him, hard, surprising
both of the boys. He could taste his own seed in his buddy's mouth.

"Good morning! You are awake now. Pulling the covers up will not help..."
caused them both to burst into giggle.

"Um, yeah, I think we're 'up', dude." They cuddled for a minute then
climbed out of the sopping bed and smiled at their disheveled appearances.

*****

Paul woke to the familiar sound of fapping. His brother, Christos, always
brought himself off in the morning, so it didn't really bother Paolo at
all. He rolled over to look sleepily at Jackson who looked over and said,
"Dude, we've roomed on the road. You know I'm gonna yank one out in the
morning."

"Yeah, preto, no trouble. I'm not gonna join you, though. " He smiled
crookedly at the large, ebony bruiser, "I'm gonna see which one of the
pretty boys wants to take care of me instead."

Jackson's eyes flew wide and then closed. Jackson moaned at the thought of
Junior's sweet lips around his black cock, or maybe Ned with those sultry
glances and quick blushes. "Fuuuuuuuck!" He unloaded his baby batter all
over his ebony skin. The "Good morning" message started.

"Dude, I'm not washin you off this morning, preto. You take care of your
own self. I'm gonna see about the bathroom." He waggled his eyebrows and
left the room. Jackson looked down at his torso, blobs of cum gleaming. The
wickedest, nastiest smile he'd ever had spread across his face.

He walked into the common room and saw Aaron freeze and gasp, "Holy fuck!"
under his breath. Jackson smiled at the young beauty.

"Sup, Aaron." He looked down at his teammate's not-quite-flaccid but
obviously very drained cock. "Looks like we both got an early start on
lessons, eh, dude?" Sean came out behind Aaron and tousled his sleep-skewed
hair. Aaron scowled at him then grinned sheepishly.

"And a fine morrrrnin to ya, Jackson, fine indeed. And yes, your
tongue-tied friend may well be the best wakeup call I've gotten in many a
long year, mate. You should try it."

Aaron looked mortified but he sucked in a breath as he saw Jackson's eyes
blazing. "Oh, you can bet your pot-a-gold on *that*, Mr Lucky Charms."
Aaron's cock made a bid for action independent of the frozen body to which
it was attached and leapt to attention. "So, buddy, let's hit the head,
huh?" Jackson reached out and steered Aaron by the shoulder to the W/C
across the hall as Sean chuckled, then sobered. The man made a quick check
on a digidesk and shot a message to Daniel and Redmond, 'Need 2 talk
now. Conf B. 5 min.'

*****

Daniel was there when Sean arrived, looking pale, upset and
put-out. Redmond joined them moment later. "What's up with this summons,
Sean?"

"Redmond, Daniel. You need to get samples from Aaron. That kid is
unbelievable. If you haven't seen the tape yet, I'm sure Leo has plastered
it all over the network. I couldn't control myself last night at all, and I
just watched him ensnare Jackson without so much as a flirty
giggle. Something's there, and it's something chemical, not just the
looks."

"How sure are you it wasn't the teasing? We don't want to send Miles and
his team on a wild goose chase."

"Ahem. Daniel, I saw the video. As per protocol, Sen had nothing, nothing
at all in his system. Not even Folgers. Aaron claimed the prize that half
the staff have been trying for over the last year and a half." Dr Miles
Redmond keyed something into the digidesk for the conference room and
Sean's face appeared on the screen.

"Bloo-oody Fookin Chrrrrrist, What the fook ayr-ya kid? GRUNGNGGNNGNG!!"
the onscreen Sean shouted as he lost himself in the intense orgasm.

"I think quite a bit of that was actually in Gaelic, Daniel." Sean blushed.

Daniel's face was like a kid on Christmas. "Fuck, Sean. That was for
real. You weren't throwing in a bit of acting? Anything?"

"No, boss. The opposite. I was damned determined that this boyo wouldn't
get me cum until far, far later in the evening. You know me, boss. I'm not
one to let me toys go early."

Daniel chuckled. "No, you're not. Okay, you go clean up. Ever for Raven's
Claw, you reek of sex. Miles, we'll pull Aaron from class later. I want
every bodily fluid that kid produces to be analyzed to death. We need what
he's got, gentlemen, and I don't mind saying that we need it badly."

*****

All of the guys watched as Aaron shakily cleaned up Jackson's chest in the
bathroom, awed at the stud's intense focus on the smaller wrestler. When
done, Aaron leaned up and whispered, "Thank you," shyly. Jackson's cockhead
was peeking out he was so hard, and it took him forever to get soft enough
to piss. Every single person in the room noticed, and every one of them
wanted to find out why.

As each reentered the common room, his band would DING and the guy would
make it over to the machine. The breakfasts were universally large and
heavy on protein. Bobby actually had a steak and three eggs with a strange
kind of heavy toast. Others got mixtures of yoghurt, nuts and fruit, thick
ham-and-egg sandwiches, any number of things; only Jackson and Vinny got
cereal.

The other thing that everyone noticed was the smell of man-musk and cum,
many of them reeked of it, keeping themselves or other chubbed or boned
throughout the meal. As they settled, the door opened and Curtis came in
with a guy that Ned instantly thought of as Short Stack. He was short,
perhaps 5' 5", and massively stacked.

"Gentlemen, this is Abdullah bin Assam. He is Howie's assistant. I suggest
that you call him sir, coach or Ben. The obvious pun on his last name would
be... ill-advised. Ben has no sense of humor and doesn't mind me saying so,
but he does have a very well-developed sense of how to turn even a hardened
jock into a quivering mass of worn-out muscles. Unless you want everyone to
see you cry like a two-year-old, I suggest you keep him happy." Seven very
worried stares watched muscle with under the hairy, dark-tan skin. Every
one of them had memories of at least one coach they thought of as
Ball-Buster. This guy looked like he was the one that taught them how to do
it.

"Howie is taking care of some business this morning and, in a few minutes,
Ben will join you in the gym. First, happier news. Your point tallies from
yesterday up through Room-Lock are ready. There are a LOT of ways to earn
points, gentlemen, but there are only a few that we need to cover right
now; others are for later lessons.

"First and easiest, and the core of yesterday's Coy and Stud assignment, is
The Look. When you successfully get someone to stare at your ass or lick
their chops over you, it's worth a point. As an example, Ned got started
early and did extremely well all evening. He has forty-eight points just
from that." That got a murmur of approval and several back-slaps for the
blushing Ned.

"Next is a successful seduction, when you get someone to absolutely fixate
on you. Several of you achieved that but since Ned is already blushing,
we'll use that as an example. Anyone who didn't see Bobby drool from *both*
heads over the whole bananananana thing needs to pay more attention in
class." Bobby had his face in his hands and even his neck was
blushing. "Point ranges for seduction are based on subsequent actions. Ned
earned five points for that.

"I said that The Look was the easiest. Well, I kinda lied. The easiest and
most common point-generator for you is Orgasm. That's right, we're paying
you to cum, gentlemen." That got a loud laugh. "All of you came yesterday
or last night at some time, so it won't be hard to start earning. An orgasm
is worth 5 points. Giving someone *else* an orgasm is worth anywhere from
20 to 40 points."

"Um?" It was Junior, aka Matt. "How do you, um, know? I mean, like, at
night?"

"Son, Protectorate sensors will know which pores you sweat from and how
often you blink. Trust me, you'll get your credits." That got a laugh, but
an extremely nervous one.

"There are, believe it or not, orgasms that are not caused by penile
stimulation and they are worth more. Our poster boys for that are, again,
Ned and Bobby. For those that didn't see it, Ned made Bobby blow just from
nipple work. Most husbands can't even achieve orgasm that way, and popping
a husband off without touching his dick is difficult at best. Bobby earned
20 points for that and Ned earned 40. Damn good work to both of you."
Bobby's face still hadn't come out of his hands and he looked like he was
trying to worm his way into the fabric of the bench.

"Homework assignments are worth anywhere from 1 to 100 points, as are
special merit awards. For an example of that, we'll leave poor Bobby for a
minute so he can learn how to breathe again. Matt is our poster boy here."

"Um, Matt? Who is Matt?"

"It's Junior's actual name, Paul. I'm surprised you guys didn't already
know that. Matt, can you explain, please?"

Matt had gone white as a sheet and started stuttering. The intimidating
Abdullah bin Assam moved to his side and Matt visibly cringed away in
terror. The man crouched and leaned in close. His voice was magnificent,
soft and gentle, musical and very like the rich tones of a
tenor-saxophone. "Matt, you never have to worry about what your father
thinks again. He can't hurt you or anyone else, son. This is your family
for now; treat your temporary husbands like you would your eventual real
ones, okay?"

Matt stared at him and slowly the color came back to his face and a grim
determination replaced his fear. "My name is Matt Sparks. People call me
Junior because that is what Dad always told me I had to be called. I hate
it. Please call me Matt or something else... please?"

A murmur spun through the room. The universally-reviled AC went down a
major notch in everyone's books. Paolo got up and sat heavily next to Matt,
nudging Bobby to one side. He put his arm around Matt and pulled him
close. Everyone on the room thought the younger boy would burst into tears,
including Matt, himself. That he didn't shocked -- and earned him a lot of
respect from -- his teammates.

"So, Matt got several sets of special merit points. In fact, I've never
seen The Howitzer hand out so many points so early. Matt got 11 points for
his stamina and resilience in the side-run, and another 18 for his
stallion-like performance in the showers." Matt didn't have it in him to
blush, but he dropped his eyes.

"You'll note a new feature on your digidesks. It's a widget called
Leaderboard. It will display the current point total of even man here."
There was a flurry of activity as guys grabbed the closest digidesk and
opened the application. It showed as follows:

Top Dog: Ned - 116 Stallion: Matt - 106 Stud: Jackson - 43 Bobby - 42 Aaron
- 48 Paul - 35 Vinny - 7

Like they were on a single swivel, every single set of eyes turned to
Vinny. It was Ned's turn to be viscous, "Dude, seven points? SEVEN? And we
saw you cum all over Howie when he did ya in the shower. Maybe next time
you'll do the fucking homework!"

"MISTER DARLING! That will be enough! Bullying over points is still
bullying and will NOT be tolerated. Gentlemen, please check your digidesks
again. That's right, Ned, you can lose points even more quickly than you
make them!" Ned gasped as the numbers flickered.

Top Dog: Matt - 106 Stallion: Ned - 101 Stud: Jackson - 43 Bobby - 42 Aaron
- 48 Paul - 35 Vinny - 7

"You didn't lose points yesterday because you had none to lose. That stops
now. You can never go below zero, but penalties can range to 100% of your
points, and even the things you've already spent points on. Misbehavior,
disrespect of teachers or each other, malingering, cruelty, bullying -- all
those and more can cost you, and cost you dearly.

"This morning is the last time that we will explicitly discuss who got what
points or how, or what they've been spent on. Feel free to guess; it's a
great motivator. You can ask, but the other person won't necessarily know
anyway."

"Um, sir? You said spent? How does that work?"

"Glad you asked, Matt. All of you, please go back to the desktop and find a
new widget called The Exchange. In there are things that are currently
available to you, or will be once you earn more points. There are an
endless variety of things, all with different prices. Very little is
available to you right now. Probably nothing more than the simplest porn
and the least-interesting games. Please note that for both, there is also a
cost to use or view your purchase later. A unit is typically fifteen
minutes and usually costs 5 points." The least-expensive items were 25
points each, and the cover art didn't make them look that enticing.

"Mr French, about the porn. We get points for cumming, right? Do we get
points for cumming to porn?"

"Very good question, Mr di Silva. Yes, you get points for any orgasm. But
please note, fifteen minutes with porn costs you five points and a simple
orgasm gets you five. To push a pun, it's about as valuable as masturbation
-- it gets you nowhere." A chuckle ran around the room.

"However, remember that giving someone ELSE'S an orgasm is worth
considerably more points. For most men, pornographic stimulation greatly
increases the speed and intensity of an orgasm, and access to seriously hot
shit is highly likely to get you, shall we say, willing friends?" The guys
were quiet as they mulled it over.

"Um, can we, you know, get samples before we buy?"

Carter laughed. "I've never heard it put quite that way, Aaron, but
yes. Porn comes in three types, stories, photos and videos. By the way, the
time you are allotted in a unit for written porn is far longer and based on
your measured reading and comprehension level. For one point, you can get a
preview or, in the case of stories, an excerpt and overall summary. Any
other questions? Excellent." Every band DINGed and they trooped off,
muttering to each other, toward the gym.

*****

Ben, the quiet Arabian hunk, quickly got the boys sorted on various pieces
of equipment. The routine was simple. After showing precisely how he
expected every machine to be used, he set a wrestler loose on each. The
boys spent fifteen minutes at that machine. When Ben blew his whistle, they
rested and drank water for five minutes than moved one machine-type to the
right, the last guy coming back to the first.

The guys very quickly learned that Ben could see everything, everywhere,
all the time. The slightest sloppiness of form or lax speed would find him
instantly there, glaring in a terrifying manner and patiently, softly,
slooooooowly re-explaining the exercise like he was talking to a learning
disabled eight-year-old for whom English was a sixth language.  It was
intensely humiliating and incredibly effective. He never once raised his
voice.

He was also willing to praise extra effort. Matt had little upper-body
strength, but he pushed through the reps on those machines ferociously,
obviously at his very limits. For Jackson, it was cardio and for Bobby it
was leg-strength. Pushing through to complete a set earned soft, warm and
incredibly-encouraging reinforcement from the dark man. They were deeply
attached to the quiet coach from that moment on.

About halfway through, Howie came in. His manner was more... coachlike,
with plenty of invective and hollering and insults-to-manliness, but always
good-natured. Today, he spent special time with Paul, getting the Brazilian
to push himself well beyond his normal range. Every guy there prayed
unceasingly for that magic DING that meant he 'had to' got to the food
machine and get a snack or meal. Lingering over it, though, was a Very Bad
Plan.

Above all the others, Vinny pushed himself to the very limits on every
exercise. Throwing himself into the work like a fiend to burn off the
shame, rage and worry over his sexual response. He watched his teammates
constantly, desperately trying to regain that cool, cocky, confident,
straight -- STOP IT -- mask he'd worn so well for so long. But every flex
of a glute or bounce of a cock made his dick surge, every bicep and waft of
scent -- oh, fuck, the scent! -- of the guys sent into bonerville.

*****

The guys were universally exhausted and (except Vinny) elated at the
end. Mutters and murmurs made it clear that they'd never had better
workouts in their lives. They were athletes, and that impressed them as
much as anything. The consensus was unanimous: Protectorate protocols ROCK.

Howie and Ben trooped them into the shower, this time assigning shower
buddies. Ben would partner with Bobby, Paul with Matt, Aaron with Ned, and
Jackson with Vinny. The instructions were simple: Neither person could wash
any part of his own body but they would get clean or die trying. Everyone
but Vinny just sighed.

Matt was about to cream himself before they started. He was, for the first
time in his life, getting to touch the body of the person who had taken him
under his wing. 'Paul's Puppy' practically wagged. Paolo? Paolo loved both
the attention and the soft hands all over him. He was most-shocked with his
ass. When Matt's hands slid down the crack, the normally-stoic young man
almost groaned the sensation was so overwhelming, wonderful and unexpected.

Matt noticed just how much impact his attention had on his hero. How could
he not as he was cleaning the young man's glans and foreskin. He looked up,
intensely nervous and scared, but determined. "P-P-P-Paul, c-can I, um," he
smiled tremulously, "I could get you five points if you want?"

Paul's ego spiked at that and he smiled down at his puppy. "Afraid not,
camarada." Matt's face fell and he looked like he might be sick. He'd just
propositioned his ultimate ideal man... and been shot down in flames. "But
I think we can both go for 25. What do you think, garanhão?" He leaned
down and let his breath tickle Matt's ear, "That lingua portuguesa for
*stallion*." Matt couldn't speak, could barely think.

He felt Paul's hand enclose his dick and whimpered. He bit his cheek hard
enough to taste blood in his effort to make sure Paolo came first, and
almost succeeded. What blew him over the top was when Paul leaned down and
whispered, "I always wanted you to do this, you know, filhone, my little
pup?" And the floodgates opened, complete with moans and whimpers. Paul
followed quickly as Matt had gone nuts with both hands on his cock,
dragging his eruption from his balls.

*****

Ned leaned into Aaron's space and whispered quietly, so no one can
hear. "You should never shower, Aaron. I never said anything because, you
know, I didn't have the guts and thought the guys would kill me. But your
smell has given me wood since the first time Bobby had me over to your
house." Aaron gasped, hand shaking as he began to wash and be washed by his
brother's best bud. "I was, what, nine? I didn't even know what a dick was
for and your scent made me rock hard."

Aaron was completely flustered at this. Everything was moving so fast. He
had never really thought about guys at all -- well, just a little. He
never, ever thought of them when he jacked off! But Sean had gone nuts and
gave him the greatest night of pleasure he'd ever imagined. Then this
morning, he'd practically raped Sean into a 69. Now his little brother's
best friend was saying he, Aaron, made him hard just being around.

They could hear Paul and Matt erupting, moaning to beat the band. Ned
raised an eyebrow, "You wanna?"

Aaron just shook his head, too undone to even answer. Ned looked less
unhappy than... wistful. As if he could wait until Aaron was ready but
really, really didn't want to.

*****

Vinny was terrified, nearly out of his mind with fear. His body screamed
for him to reach out and touch the black muscle-giant but to do so would
shatter a lifetime of glass walls. He moved in fits and starts like a
glitchy automaton. Jackson solved the problem, grabbing his hand and
filling it with cleanser then bringing it to his ebon chest. Vinny gasped
as Jackson began to wash him as well and simply... let himself do the same.

The instant his hand started to move, his dick went from a flaccid worm to
an iron spike instantly. His breathing got short and he pulled back and
felt himself start to wilt. Jackson reached down and tilted Vinny's chin
up. "Vinny, the world doesn't work the way it used to, brother. You gotta
relax or die, man. Seriously, just chillax. Everything's fine. I don't
*want* to be washing your smelly white carcass, dude, but it's what we do
to survive. Just, you know, go with it."

Vinny wanted to scream that he couldn't 'chillax'. Parts of him, parts he's
sculpted since he was a child, were dying with every swipe of his hand. He
did something then he hadn't done in living memory. He cried in front of a
teammate.

Jackson noticed and pulled him closer, petting down his back and
sides. "Vinny, you're a good guy. We all are. Stop beating yourself
up. You, uh, know how Paul and I got those points? The two straightest
studs on this planet? We got each other off last night. And you know what?
It didn't suck, man. I can't imagine a life without pussy, but I'm gonna
live. Just like when your ancestors shackled mine and dragged our asses to
America in chains, dude. Mine buckled down and survived. You have GOT to
loosen up. Now get with the program and wash me off. I reek, dude!"

Vinny, in a trance, did just that. When he finished with Jackson rather
imposing erection, Jackson leaned down again. "You got seven points total,
dude, You wanna make these fuckers happy and get each other off? You know,
just for show? You've gotta be dying, man." Vinny choked back a sob and
pulled away. It had nothing to do with whether he *wanted* to, it was
whether he *could* and still be Vinny.

*****

"Bobby, it's okay. I'm only intimidating in the gym. Outside, I'm almost
embarrassingly-nice." Bobby looked down --- DOWN!!! -- at the massive
man. "Just wash me off, my friend, and I'll do you. Okay?" Bobby started to
wash the pocket Hercules, finding himself desperately biting back moans of
pleasure as the mass of muscles found every crevice of his body. "Son, if
you don't breathe, you're gonna pass out." There was an infinite store of
kindness and concern underneath that smile.

"I, um, I-I-I-I, um d-d-don't want to just wash you?" It wasn't a question,
he knew intellectually, and he didn't care.

Abdullah bin Assam leaned in and stood on tiptoe to reach Bobby's ear. "You
want to know a secret? Neither do I." Bobby's gasp of shock was music to
the man's ears and he felt Bobby begin to probe and clean everything he
could find. When the boy got to his incredible-sensitive ass, he moaned,
"Oh, man, you got magic hands. Don't stop, please."

Bobby gained confidence by the second as the massive little man grunted and
moaned in pleasure. He left one hand playing and teasing in the crack of
the guy's ass and brought the other to his cock in a mixture of wonderment
and awe. HE was doing this. HE was causing these sound, HE was giving real,
immediate, wonderful pleasure! He let his finger twirl around the hidden
pucker and exulted in the way Ben's breath caught. He listened as his
shower-lover started to huff, then chuff, then grunt. Bobby nearly came,
hands free, when the miniature giant began shaking uncontrollably and
unloading all over them both.

When the orgasm passed, Ben looked into Bobby wide, wondrous eyes. "You
want me to return the favor?"

Bobby slowly shook his head and smiled broadly. "No. That was fucking
perfect just like it was." He got instantly contrite. "Unless you want to!
Sure, I m-mean, of course you can!"

Ben smiled and patted his shoulder. "No, son, some things don't get
better." He pulled the boy down so he could whisper in his ear. "Don't tell
anybody, Bobby, but you're gonna find bonus points in your stocking
tomorrow for saying, 'It was perfect just like that'. You are a really
special guy, Bobby. I envy the husbands lucky enough to marry you."

<eof>

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Active storelines, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay...
Canvas Hell: 29 chapters .../camping/canvas-hell/
Beaux Thibodaux: 21 chapters .../adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/
The Heathens: 22 chapters .../historical/the-heathens/
Lake Desolation: 15 chapters .../rural/lake-desolation/
Shark Reef: 8 chapters .../adult-youth/shark-reef/
Culberhouse Rules: 5 chapters .../incest/culberhouse-rules/
Raven's Claw: 4 chapters .../authoritarian/ravens-claw/

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