Date: Tue, 16 Dec 2003 19:16:39 +0000 From: white collar Subject: Executive Slave 6 Comments will be gladly received by white_collar@hotmail.com Note: Any resemblance to real people is strictly coincidental. No real people are depicted in this piece of fiction. This story contains explicit male to male sex, domination and bondage. If you don't enjoy reading this sort of material or are under the age of 21, DO NOT CONTINUE READING. If you regard this type of material as depraved then flee from here and don't look back! And be sure that you practice safer sex. Don't become another statistic in the rising HIV/STD rates. Don't be barebacking: it's your LIFE you're playing with. This story is STRICTLY fantasy and I DO NOT espouse or endorse unprotected anal or oral sex! Be careful and be alive - White Collar The previous installment of "Executive Slave" ended as follows: My Administrator was increasing the tempo of his thrusts. "Tell me what you are boy," he ordered, the volume of his voice increasing as he fucked me. "Sir, I'm your unit." "Tell me you're bent." "Sir, I'm bent." "Tell me." "Sir, I'm bent," I said, my own voice getting louder and higher, my throat tightening with the tension building in my body. "Again." "Sir, I'm bent." "And who do you belong to?" "Sir, I belong to the Authority," I cried, the pitch of my voice rising as he flailed against my butt cheeks and rammed my prostate. "Who do you belong to?" "Sir, I belong to the Authority." "Who?" "Sir, I belong to the Authority," I cried. "Tell me again," he shouted. "Sir, I belong to you." "Come boy!" he shouted, his cock jerking in my fuck chute and filling me with his milk. I roared as the cum shot out of my throbbing penis and slid down the back of my Administrator's chair. Executive Slave -- Chapter 18 I collapsed over the back of my Administrator's chair, my chest heaving. He unfastened my clamped nipples and ordered me to lick up my cum. The taste of cum and leather was intoxicating and I licked and licked until I'd stripped the patina from the leather with my tongue. "Good boy," he said, patting me on the head. "You've pleased me. You're learning the right way of thinking and that'll make it much easier for you in the end. I've let you come so you won't need a milking this week. You can accompany 059 for his next milking so that you get into the habit of going. Remember, the Authority requires it. It's not an option. You will report every week, whether you've received permission to come or not. This is the tax you pay to the Authority for your upkeep." "Yes sir. Thank you sir. And thank you for letting me come sir," I answered, kneeling on the floor, my legs splayed wide and my hands behind my back. "It was appropriate," he said. "You are exhibiting the proper thinking for a unit and that should be rewarded to be reinforced." His words were clinical but I wanted to sense that I'd pleased him and had been rewarded for that. But what was it I had done to please him? He ordered me to come when I professed that I belonged to the Authority. No, that wasn't it. It was when I'd said I belonged to him! I felt a flush of pride and gratitude. My Administrator valued me. Maybe that would protect me in the future. But don't be foolish, I reminded myself. You've pleased him in the past and he's then turned savage. I would have to continue behaving as he wanted me to; as a unit should, in order to remain in his favor, for I most certainly did not want to be in his disfavor. "Thank you sir," I said and bent to kiss his shoes, for I was truly grateful. 059 arrived to accompany me back to the cells. "059, isn't it your milking day?" my Administrator asked him. "Yes sir, thank you sir. That was my next stop," he said, placing his hand at the small of my back to usher my out the door. "Good boy," the Administrator said. "Take 035 with you. He can watch. Tell the attendant that 035 has come with his Administrator's permission. Half an hour for you 059." "Yes sir, thank you sir," 059 said. Glancing up at his face, I could see the flicker of dread that flew across it. Still half an hour was better than a longer milking. "If the Administrator didn't say how long a unit's to be milked, what's the usual," I asked, as we walked down the hall. "Once you're aroused, the usual milking is fifteen minutes," 059 answered. "Most men can bring themselves off with less than five minutes of wanking so fifteen minutes is usually more than long enough to get a unit to yield his cream. Anything beyond that is considered discipline or punishment. Half an hour is a discipline sentence, meant to remind me that my genitals, body and soul belong to the Authority. It's because I failed to report for milking last week as I should have. This is my `gentle' reminder." We went down through the Center's halls and stairs in silence. I knew my mentor was not looking forward to his milking. I had to admit, after my first go-round, I understood why: it was torture. Exquisite torture, but torture nonetheless. It was pleasurable up to a point but then became maddening as the unit is, over and over again, brought to the edge and then pulled back. I'd come to understand that this was done principally to maximize sperm and semen output. But, as 059 had explained it to me, it was also done to reinforce for each unit that his genitals were not his; they belonged to the Authority and the Authority would use them as it chose. Then there was the added element of punishment for wayward units who were in need of some bringing into line. 059 had failed to report for his regular milking and so was punished the last time by an extended milking. I'd only been subjected to forty-five minutes and found that almost unbearable. I'd seen what an hour-and-a-half had done to my mentor. Remembering that last time, I felt a sudden sense of protectiveness for him and took his hand. He looked at me and I smiled, hoping to reassure him a bit. "I'll be there for you," I said. "I know. Thanks," he said, smiling wanly at me, obviously aware, as was I, that I couldn't spare him what he was going to have to go through. We arrived at the milking center and again, my eyes were drawn to the units in various stages of milking. Each stood with his back against the tiled wall, spread-eagle and pinned to the wall by his arms and legs with brackets that came out of slots in the wall. Some were wriggling, sweating profusely and moaning in pleasure/pain. A couple of others were just getting started, the attendants finishing up the preparations of hooking them up to the stimulus and milking connectors. One had just completed his milking. He was sagging against the clamps holding him up as the man milk was pumped down the clear tube and borne away to the processor. Attendants went to him and removed the connectors from his body before releasing the brackets holding him up. He sank to the floor and crouched there on his hands and knees, trying to catch his breath as his angry red cock throbbed and pulsed, engorged with blood and undoubtedly aching badly. 059 spoke the attending officer and told him what my Administrator had said. The attendant nodded and pointed at a couple of empty stations. 059 beckoned me with his head and together, we went to the stations. "The officer says you should take your position as though you were going to be milked. It'll help you to be become more accustomed to the process," he said, pushing me into one of the spaces. I nodded and backed up, raising my arms and spreading my legs. He took his place and the brackets slid out from their slots, locking us in place. As I watched, an armature rose from the floor in front of 059 with a round, tube-like apparatus on the end of it. The armature rose until the apparatus was directly in front of his groin. Then the officer came and inspected my mentor's penis, apparently determining that it wasn't erect enough for a milking yet. He pulled suction tubes from the wall on either side of 059's body and attached them to his nipples. Then he pressed a button and the suction devices began working on his tits, sucking and "chewing" on them with the mechanism inside the tubes as his cock began to rise in response to the stimulation. I could see the dildo rising from the floor on a pole and breach his anal sphincters. He grunted and wiggled his hips, seeking to get the plug seated comfortably. Then I could hear the hum as it began vibrating. I watched 059's masculine body respond to the stimulation and saw the looks of pleasure and arousal that crossed his face and I began to get harder. I watched his penis fill and lengthen, growing long and thick, dark with blood, and remembered it filling me and I began to moan in need. Then I got a surprise: I felt something pushing against my pucker. I gasped in surprise as my rectum was invaded by some kind of obdurator. It had a smooth, rounded bulb and was elongated, rather like a butt plug. The attending officer left 059 and came over to me. He pressed a button and pulled a large hose from the ceiling above my head. There was a mouthpiece on the end of the tube, which he placed in my mouth after parting my jaws. The mouthpiece stretched my lips and fit firmly behind my teeth. I squirmed and asked what was going on but the mouthpiece turned my question into an incomprehensible squeal. I couldn't figure out what was happening. My Administrator had said I didn't have to be milked today. What were they doing to me? The attendant checked the tube invading my ass as well as the one in my mouth and pressed a couple of buttons. Fluid began to flow into my guts and into my mouth. I tried to ask what was happening but found that I'd better start swallowing rapidly to get the fluid down or drown, though I didn't know why. The fluid in my guts would have to take care of itself. After about a minute of liquid flowing, everything stopped and I caught my breath. I looked questioningly at 059 but he was already lost in the haze of pain/pleasure. He was moaning and moving his pelvis, instinctively seeking the relief that these machines were programmed to deny him until it was time. Suddenly, I felt very hot and began to sweat. The fluid in my belly and the fullness in my gut seemed to be dissipating in very little time. As the liquid they were pumping into me began to be absorbed, I felt a churning in my testicles and a swelling from the area of my prostate. After a couple of minutes of sweating, my stomach felt empty again and my gut had returned to its normal shape after having become bloated with whatever it was they were pumping into me through my anus. As I breathed a sigh of relief, the fluid began pumping again, once more filling my gut and my belly to the point I felt I might burst open. Just as I thought I'd start to regurgitate what had been force-fed me through the feeding tube, the fever started again and seemed to evaporate the contents of my stomach. Once again, the churning returned to my balls and my prostate seemed to be swelling. Suddenly, it was clear to me what was happening: they were recharging me, as it were. They were priming the pump by force-feeding me fluids that rapidly refilled my testicles and glands to increase my output of sperm and semen. I had a flash of men being treated like milk cows, being given fortified feed to increase their milk output and then being milked for their bounty. I had an overwhelming sense of just how much like animals we units had become. I was subjected to repeated cycles of force-feeding and fever while 059 was being milked. While I hung there, I saw another unit come in and be hooked up as I was. Obviously, he'd been permitted to come and was being recharged as well. Looking at him as his rectum was plugged and his mouth filled, I realized how violated I felt by this. It was almost worse than being raped because it was so dispassionate. We were simply farm animals being used to our owners' fullest benefit. Curiously, this realization caused my cock to lift and swell, embarrassing me intensely. Being naked was, by now, nothing to me. Being milked, being fucked, sucking cock were all becoming familiar, comfortable even, for me. But this was degrading beyond belief and that it aroused me was profoundly embarrassing. My only comfort was that I noticed the other unit who was being force-fed was having the same response as his cock rose and began to leak pre-cum. The attendant quickly placed a basin beneath his penis so that the sticky substance wouldn't be wasted. He came to me and squeezed my hard penis as though he were milking a cow's teat. Yes, my dick began to leak as well, oozing pre-cum from the piss-slit and he placed a basin on the floor to catch it. 059's time was almost up. I watched him urgently thrusting his pelvis, struggling to produce the wanted result. There was a sheen of sweat covering his body and wetting down the hair covering his chest and groin. Finally, the machinery permitted him to come, pumping his jism away for processing and storage as his entire body clenched and he roared with release. He collapsed against the brackets with a rough breath and waited for the attending officer to release him. The attendant removed the tubes from his nipples and his cock and pressed a button to withdraw the vibrating plug from his anus. Only then was 059 released from the brackets, whereupon he fell to the floor, collapsing on his hands and knees, his cock a deep red and swollen from the edging. After disconnecting 059 from the milking apparatus, the attending officer moved to me and withdrew the infusion tube from my ass chute, leaving me whimpering in emptiness. He pulled my jaw open and removed the mouthpiece, then released the brackets pinning me to my station. I took several seconds to recover my stability and went to 059, who was still crouched on his hands and knees. I knelt beside him, stroking his head and asking him in whispers if he was all right. He wearily nodded his hanging head and finally, drawing his legs up and putting his feet on the floor, heaved himself to his feet. "Let's go, boy," he said. "Let's get showered and then we can eat and rest." As we headed toward the showers, I asked 059 about what I'd been subjected to. "What do you think?" he asked. "I think that my testicles and semen reserves were being recharged," I answered. "I also think my status as a slave was being reinforced. The Authority wants us never to forget that we belong to it; that we are the Authority's property to do with as it chooses." "That's exactly it," he answered, putting his arm around my shoulder. "You've got the picture. That's one of the reasons why we're milked regularly. It's not only to supply cum for whatever purposes the Authority wants it; it's also to keep us aware that we have lost all control of our bodies." "I know," I said, remembering the feeling of being an animal in a feedlot while I was being recharged. 059 must have sensed my feelings of degradation because he squeezed my shoulder and smiled at me. "I understand boy: it felt like your humanity was stripped from you. It's a hard thing. How do you keep any sense of dignity while being subjected to the things they do to us? I've found that I have to keep a piece of myself like it was in a cupboard. It's locked away where they can't get at it. I think all of us that have survived for any length of time have done that. If you can't do it, you'll wither up and blow away. Either you'll stop trying and end up being recycled or you'll just give up and die. But if you can put that little piece away, you'll make it." "I think I understand," I answered. "Would you tell me more? Tell me how you came to be here." "Let's get cleaned up first. We'll get a shower, go back to the cell and eat and then I'll tell you my story." "Thanks," I said. "I'd like to hear it." Executive Slave -- Chapter 19 We were seated on the mat in our cell, leaning back against the wall. The lights had not gone down yet and units were doing various things around the cellblock. Some were watching "instructional" videos, others were reading "user" manuals, which told units and unimaginative clients alike the various ways a unit might be used. Others were simply lying in their cells, staring into space and awaiting "lights out". A few were coming and going to the toilets or the showers. "I was a college senior," 059 said, his eyes focusing on an image from the past. "I had an athletic scholarship: basketball and track and field. I was pretty good. I'd led my basketball team to state championships three years in a row. I also did well in school. I was planning on becoming a coach. Not only could I play, but because of my minor in business, I understood the bigger picture and I had the business sense to play that game, if you know what I mean." "Yes, I suppose I do," I answered. Politics are everywhere. You can't avoid them in human society. "I was class president and president of my fraternity. The problem came because one of my younger fraternity brothers, Dan, hated the fact that I was bent. Don't ask me why: I never bothered him. Where he stood was obvious and I was never one to put the number on anyone who wasn't interested. Oh, I may have kidded him a few times and asked him if he'd ever wondered what it was like to be fucked. But I never seriously hit on him. There were enough of us out there anyway. Who needs to hit on some phobic straight guy? But he was paranoid. He did have a nice body and a good package. Hairy chest and legs. Well-defined and a pretty cock with low-hanging balls. I suppose the hazing incident was a bad idea. It was the year Dan pledged, you see. I was going into my senior year and was in charge of the planning for the new pledges. I'd seen some old magazines with photo shoots of some really wild hazing scenes. There was paddling, screwing with dildos, drinking, all sorts of shit. Those kinds of things had been banned at universities for decades but I thought it might be fun. I also thought it might be a way to get into his pants, or at least warm his straight ass with a paddle." "But you knew what the laws were! You knew how the Authority viewed nonconsensual sexual activity. How could you think you'd get away with it?" I asked, incredulous that this man I'd come to think of as very sensible could be so lacking in common sense. "I was foolish," he said, looking sheepish. "You see, my father is high up in the Authority. I figured his position would protect me. And I convinced the other guys we were safe. So I was put in charge of that part of the weekend." "But what went wrong?" I asked, still perplexed. "I'll tell you," 059 said, a little impatiently. "Let me get on with my story." "Sorry," I said. "The best part was when the pledges were brought in and made to drink six bottles of beer. Then they were stripped and made to bend over. We tied their wrists to their ankles and lined them up next to each other. I'd found some old wooden paddles and we reddened their asses. Then a brother got behind each of them and fucked him. I was behind Dan. God, did he squeal when I speared him. He bucked and cursed and struggled to get away from my dick but I held him tight and fucked him good. What I didn't count on was that Dan would decide to get even with me. And I wasn't the only one; there were definitely others who were targeted." "What happened? What do you mean there were others?" I asked, caught up in his story. I could visualize myself in the position of the fuckees and feel now that I'd enjoy it. But I could also see that some, even someone who was drunk, might not take kindly to the experience. "Hang on and I'll tell you: you're getting ahead of me. You'll understand in a minute." "OK," I said. "Sorry. Go ahead." "Well Dan and the others made it into the fraternity and we went about our life at college. Everything seemed to be cool. We'd laugh and joke about the hazing and it appeared that everyone had taken it for high spirits and gotten over it. I did have a hard time keeping my mind off his ass during that year and I suppose there were too many times he'd turn around or look up and find me cruising him with a lecherous look on my face. I just couldn't stop thinking about how tight he felt and how good it would be to fuck him again, if only he weren't so phobic about it." 059 paused, a far-away and vaguely hungry look in his eyes. I could tell he was thinking back to those days: the days of his freedom; the days when he was still a man. "So what happened?" I asked, pressing him to go on. "Well it was the last basketball game of the year. We had a great record that year and if we won that game, we'd go to the championships. I was on the court just about the entire game since I was captain. I didn't notice the men who'd entered the gym late in the game and hung around the court. I got off the last shot of the game -- a three-pointer that went through the hoop as the buzzer sounded. It was just like a vid. The crowd went crazy. We'd won by 26 points so the last shot was just icing on the cake but it was sweet nevertheless. I was ecstatic. We were jumping all over each other and enjoying our victory. Then, as the team began to head for the showers, we were intercepted at the door and five of us, who were all fraternity brothers, were pulled out of the team. We were forced to wait there until the rest of the team had filed out. Our coach looked at us and looked away as he hurried out of the gym. We were mystified. One of the men showed us an LEA badge and ordered us to move to the center of the court. The crowd was still in the stands. Apparently the agents had ordered them to stay in place for the `post-game festivities'. We walked to where they'd told us to go and lined up, facing the stands. The agent with the badge pulled out a PDA and read the charges. We were all charged with lewd and indecent conduct and with sexual harassment as well as with non-consensual sex. We were terrified. I started to object and mentioned my dad; how this wouldn't be very good for these agents, when I saw Dan standing by the door to the gym, smirking at me. He was standing next to a man I instantly recognized from Authority broadcasts and I felt sick. I saw the resemblance. Dan was his son and he reported to the President. Dan took his middle finger and stuck it in his mouth. Message sent and received loud and clear. His dad trumped my dad. "The agents ordered us to strip off right there and throw our clothes into a pile. We were all humiliated to be treated this way. I started to cry and tell the others how sorry I was. A couple of them looked at me like they wanted to kill me. Our whole lives were being flushed before our eyes. One of the guys started to protest and an agent hit him with his stunner. The rest of us did as ordered and removed our clothes. Then they told us to strip Ari, the guy who'd resisted, while he lay there on the floor writhing in pain. We stripped him and helped him stand up. Then we were told to put our hands behind our backs and spread our legs. Obviously, by this time, we knew the consequences of non-compliance so we did as we were told. We were cuffed and made to stand there, naked, cuffed and humbled, before the silent audience. The agent informed the audience that this was the penalty for inappropriate behavior in society and that our example should serve as a lesson to those who would consider anti-social behavior. Then we were ordered to turn and march out to begin our new lives as units under the care of the Labor Enforcement Authority." I whistled quietly. "God, in front of a gymnasium full of people. I thought what I'd been through was bad." "Yeah," 059 answered. "And we were all college jocks. Proud of our prowess but not exactly wanting to be exposed like that. We were marched of naked, our cocks flopping and our balls bouncing. Welcome to the rest of your life boys." "You were, how old? Twenty-one, twenty-two? What happened to you?" I asked. "I was twenty-two, just. They herded us into a van and brought us to the nearest LEA Center. We went through pretty much what you went through when you came here and we were scared shitless. We were shaved, given enemas. Some of us resisted and were disciplined: I was spanked by a guard until my backside was red. I could hardly sit down for two days my ass hurt so bad. It's really hard for a guy in his early twenties to get over himself and surrender his will. Submission is tough when you're not naturally submissive and you're full of yourself the way twenty-somethings are. Our next stop, after our entry processing was at the office of our Administrator. They decided that the most effective method was to have an "interview" with us as a group. There were two Administrators there and we were all brought in. As team captain and the primary culprit, I was the first to be `interviewed'. My Administrator explained the basics to me and invited me to bend over and grab my ankles. He cuffed my wrists to my ankles and then pulled out a paddle just like the one we'd used for the hazing. My ass was already sore from the spanking I'd been given by the officer but my Administrator laid into me all the same. He made me count the blows -- fifty it was. I was bawling like a baby by the time he'd finished. Then he fucked me. Right there in front of my teammates and fraternity brothers. I started to understand what the rest of my life would be like. The rest were lined up and made to bend over, cuffed, beaten and fucked too." 059 paused again, his eyes misting. He swallowed hard several times and when he began again, his voice was tight. "They sent me to the stocks four times over the next couple of months. It was that hard for me to submit. After the last time, they took me to the recycling center." He stopped and I grabbed his arm. He looked at me, his eyes filling and he shook his head. "I'd heard rumors about it but nothing specific. They took me there and started to process me. They put me on a table and strapped me down. I fought like a madman but they administered a muscle relaxant and I couldn't fight anymore. The forced a breathing tube in my mouth and brought a surgical kit and swabbed my genitals. I wanted to scream but I couldn't. I wanted to beg them not to do that to me. The doctor was saying that it was too bad that such a fine specimen couldn't learn his place and be spared this. I wanted to tell him that I would learn; that I'd be cooperative and a good, obedient unit if they'd only let me get up and walk out of that horrible place. There were other units lying there like spare parts in a warehouse. Some were obviously still aware of their surroundings and what was happening to them. All of them had had their genitals removed and had catheters entering their torsos where their dicks had been. Some were just bodies, being kept alive on life support until there was nothing left to harvest and they were terminated. I'd have done anything not to end up like that. Somehow, even though I couldn't speak, the tears came and flowed from my eyes. The doctor who was about to castrate me looked at me and asked me if I was finally ready to submit to the Authority? If I was, I could blink twice and he'd see what he could do. I blinked twice, pleading to him with my eyes. He looked vaguely familiar but I couldn't place him. He told me he'd try. He dropped my penis and went away. 059 stopped again, swallowing hard, his tears spilling from his eyes. "While he was gone, I looked to one side and saw Ari..." "Your friend?" I whispered hoarsely. 059 nodded. "He never did adjust. He just couldn't. By the time I saw him there, there was almost nothing left of him. I could see the incision where they'd removed a kidney. Of course, he was already castrated. That's the first thing they do. His eyes were gone as well. Thank god. If he'd been able to see me, I would probably have died right there. He didn't deserve this. None of them did. Only me. It was my idea. It should only have been me lying there." He was silent a long time, trying to regain his voice. "The doctor was gone a long time. I was in agony because I was afraid that the delay meant he was losing the argument. Then again, I was no longer sure I wanted him to win it. I almost wanted to be left there so that I could eventually die like Ari was going to; like all the rest. But no, he finally came back, smiling. He gave me an antidote to the muscle relaxant and removed the straps. As he helped me sit up, he told me to stay there a few minutes to recover. He also told me that I'd come very close to being recycled but that he'd convinced the administrators there to give me another chance. Then he told me that his younger brother had been one of my fraternity brothers and had been brought in with me. It was only because he recognized me that he'd intervened on my behalf. I started to thank him and felt sick to my stomach. He must have recognized the signs because he grabbed a bucket and shoved it into my lap as the vomit burst out. "When I'd recovered, I slid off the table and fell at his feet, kissing his shoes and crying, telling him how grateful I was that he'd spared me. He rubbed my head and told me that I'd just better learn to behave. There would be no more chances for me. I thanked him over and over and he finally told me I could thank him in a way that would make us both happy. As I knelt there, he opened his fly and pulled his cock out. `Show me what you can do,' he said and I took him in my mouth. At that point, I wasn't terribly accomplished, having done the college thing of quick blowjobs aimed mainly at providing relief. But I knew what I liked so I endeavored to do that for him. He seemed to like it because before long, he was oozing pre-cum down my throat. He grabbed my ears and proceeded to fuck my face. Then, before he'd finished, he pulled out and ordered me to lean across the table so that he could fuck my ass. I was more than happy to do it because it meant that I was still alive and among the living, even if I was only a unit that belonged to the LEA. At least I wasn't castrated, living on borrowed time on life-support. "After that, I did all I could to be obedient and submissive. I learned to watch my masters, my Administrator and my `clients', carefully so as to anticipate what they wanted of me and I would do my utmost to provide it. I guess I didn't realize that as it was becoming a habit. When your own survival is predicated on doing what you're expected to do, you can become very good at it. My mind realized that having thoughts of its own could, potentially, lead to a long, living death and so it surrendered independent thought. The brain is a remarkable organ -- it can see what it needs to survive and it makes sure the body cooperates. "So I learned. I studied and became an artist at fellatio. I worked my muscles to gain even more control over them and thus give more pleasure to the men who used me. I learned to enjoy pain. Well, perhaps `enjoy' isn't quite right. I should say I learned to become aroused by pain because that's what some clients wanted from a unit. I was determined to become an outstanding unit. In my youth, I'd spent hours participating in and working at sports. When I was taken under care and finally realized the choice I had, I worked just as hard at becoming a proficient unit. I served a number of years as a daily worker, serving in private offices and Authority bureaus. I wore the uniform, rode the buses to my assignment, stripped off upon arriving and began my day's work. Sometimes I was strapped down, gagged and beaten. Sometimes I was fucked. Some days I spent with my mouth filled with an executive's cock and balls. Sometimes, I had my mouth on his hole, rimming him and inhaling his smell. My brain learned to find pleasure in all of it. "Then I became a trustee. I was made responsible for training new units like you; for teaching them the ropes and helping them to adjust. Believe it or not, the Authority does want its units to adjust to their life. Not that it won't take appropriate action when a unit fails to adapt, but it has come to realize that a well-adjusted unit is a better producer and gives better results. Since there is profit to be had in the marketing of units' services, the Authority wants to keep its customers happy, just as in any business. So that's how I came to be here. That's how I became your mentor." I sat there looking at him, trying to absorb all he'd said to me. I realized I'd need to play this narrative over in my mind several times to glean all the information out of it because much was implied rather than clearly stated. One implication I jumped to immediately. "Does that mean that, at some point, you'll no longer be my mentor?" I asked 059, my throat suddenly tightening. He looked at me with sadness in his eyes. "Yes it does," he answered slowly. "Believe me boy, that won't make me happy. I've come to feel something for you. I don't know why; I've never felt this before. Maybe I've never let myself feel it. I suppose I've always realized that it's futile to feel this way. The Authority doesn't look kindly on relationship between units. We're chattel to them and don't deserve to have lives or concerns of our own. But you've gotten to me. Maybe I see what I lost in you, even though you were a straight man before you came here." "Yes," I murmured, looking into his shining eyes. "When I saw you that first time, looking so lost and forlorn, it shot straight to my heart. I wanted to take you in my arms and hide you from what I knew was coming. But I really couldn't. I had to restrain myself and provide you only the kind and amount of comfort that wouldn't catch the Authority's notice. So under the guise of stretching your hole, I comforted you and tried to let you know that you'd be alright." "Thank you," I whispered, getting the first inkling of what he'd risked to help me. "It meant a lot to me. It means a lot to me. I've come to enjoy having you inside me at night." He placed his hand on my face, a look of joy mixed with sadness in his eyes. "I've never let myself feel this way about another man," he said. "When I was in college, all I cared about was fucking or having a good lay. I was too busy to think about loving someone. Now, I'm afraid, it's gone too far. I should never have let this happen. It's too big a risk for both of us. But I can no longer say no. I want you too much." "I want you too," I said quietly, astounded to hear the words come out of my own mouth. How could I, a straight man, being telling another man I wanted him? And how could I, as a unit under the care of the LEA, be saying something so dangerous? But then, the truth is always dangerous and subversive. He suppressed a grin. "That makes me very happy," he said, his voice almost burbling with joy. We both knew the joy had to be suppressed. "How will this work out?" I asked him. "I don't know," he answered. "I've never known units to fall in love. I suppose it's happened: it's bound to have. But they must've been so successful in either hiding it or suppressing it that no one ever knew. If it became known to the Administrators, we'd be severely punished and re-programmed. Or worse!" I put a finger on his lips. "Don't," I said. "Don't even think about it." "We have to," 059 answered. "No," I said. "We can figure something out. In the meantime, let's do what we know is permissible." "But the time will come when they'll want me to take on another inductee and you'll move into the regular population." "We'll deal with it then. We need to think about it," I insisted, afraid to contemplate being without him. Or worse. "Will you tell me your real name?" I asked. "The name you had before you were inducted?" He smiled, casting his mind back to retrieve a long useless piece of information. If he was like me, and I knew he was, he'd stored it away in a place where it would be safe but hidden away. He had to "dust off" the pathways to the hiding place. "My name was Duncan. Duncan Atwater." I was astonished. "Not the Atwaters? Not the family of industrialists?" I asked, astonished and appalled. "Yes," he said slowly. "My father is Martin Atwater. That's how he got involved with the Authority. But the day I was taken under care, I died. I heard that from my Administrator. He told me the family had had a `funeral' to bury me. The shame of having a member of the family who was both bent and under care was too much for them. They wrote me off for good." "God, I'm sorry," I said. "I can't imagine." "No, I don't suppose you can. But you mustn't use my name anywhere. Do you understand? It would be understood that we've been sharing more than is acceptable and there'd be hell to pay." "I understand," I assured him. "I won't...Duncan." "Never again," he warned. Then he softened. "What was your name?" he asked. "Clifford Swainton," I answered. "It seems so odd to say it now; I'm so used to being 082012-035. It's like speaking a foreign language. My friends used to call me `Cliff'. But, like your family, they've probably written me off. I guess no one likes to be linked to a unit under the LEA's care." "No, they don't. It's too scary for them because they realize how easily it could happen to them if they're not careful. It's amazing how people can go about censoring their own thoughts so that they stay on the straight and narrow." "I suppose so. I guess I conformed too, at least for the first forty years of my life. Then I started to ask questions. Very quiet questions and only to myself. But I asked and found answers. Unfortunately, they weren't the best answers for me." "I understand," 059 said, stroking me. "We'd probably better get in position for lights out. It should be any minute now. Can I enter you tonight?" "I'd like that," I said, lying down and opening my legs to grant him access. He entered me and I moaned with pleasure at his touch; at the fullness he gave me. I felt completed when he was in me. "Good night," I said. "Good night... Cliff," he whispered and kissed my neck. To be continued.