Date: Fri, 17 Jan 2014 22:21:48 -0800 (PST) From: John Black Subject: Switching Sides, Chapter 7. Switching Sides Chapter 7 "You've been here for almost three weeks," Persid reminded me. "Finding the right job for you will take a little longer. But, I do have something in mind that may take another couple of weeks to nail down. Demonstrate some patience and continue with your studies. You're a very smart man, Koldan; you've caught on quickly to everything you've been shown so far. Give yourself some credit." "You're right, of course," I admitted. "I just don't want to be kept." "Would that be so bad?" he leered at me. I gave him a dirty look. "Okay, you're right. For your self-esteem and because I just don't see you sitting around and looking gorgeous all day with nothing truly meaningful to do, you need a job. We agree on that. But, right now, we smell like hot sex. Let's get back to the apartment, take a quick shower, and then check in with military intelligence." We very nearly failed, but we did get in a fast shower without molesting each other. It was a titanic struggle to keep my tongue and dick out of his perfect ass. Once more, he told our vehicle where to take us. With blackened windows, no one could see who was in the car. "Persid! That's Blandic on the corner, checking out our building again." I pointed out a tall, white man in a green silk shirt and white pants. His sour countenance only emphasized his contempt for everything relating to Aldig. "Determined, isn't he," Persid admitted. "Let's be sure to mention spotting him to military intelligence. They may think it necessary to pick him up." We went through three levels of security before we got to the meeting room to discuss my status as a double agent and Blandic's visit to our apartment. Persid recounted what Dora had said about our unannounced visitor. I chimed in with what I knew about his status in Faldo and his zeal in dealing with those who strayed from religious orthodoxy. "So, should we allow him to meet up with me on the street, should you pick him up, or should I connect with him in the central park with some juicy information like I did on Wednesday with my first contact?" I asked. "Clearly, he knows where you live, Koldan," the chief interviewer said. "So, we needn't be coy about your relationship with Persid. The concern is that he may figure out that you aren't an agent for Faldo anymore. And that your sex with Persid is entirely consensual, not just fucking ass for the motherland. But, most important, with your contact of Wednesday disappearing, along with several other spies we've rounded up, he may be looking to eliminate you before you compromise more of their spy net." "That sounds to me like it is too dangerous for Koldan to meet this guy," Persid concluded. "We know who his contacts are," the interview said. "What we don't know is who the chief ringleader of the spies is. It could be a native of Aldig for all we know." "How are you going to find out?" I pressed. "Hanging me out there to get killed doesn't seem like it accomplishes much." "It doesn't," the interviewer agreed. "But, I think you can finesse this, Koldan. He's going to try to nail you on the intelligence you gave your first contact. The Faldo aircraft ran into a trap and were all destroyed. Your perspective on this is that the Grand Patriarchs didn't hit Aldig where you told them to. They came in on the same path as they always did and were spotted and subsequently destroyed. Your information was valid. Did they even check to see if the hole in the defenses was true? We don't think they checked, or even if they did, I know they would have seen a lack of defensive installations at the place you said there would be a hole." "So, what am I supposed to give him that will entice him to trust me?" I asked. "Tell him that you know that Aldig is going to mount a propaganda campaign against Faldo." "That's already widely known or suspected," I countered. "That's true," the interviewer stated. "But, what they can do against it, isn't." "You gotta be kidding! They haven't any capacity to do anything to stop your broadcasts," I insisted. "Correct, but you're going to give them a way to accomplish that, or so they'll think." "That totally kills off my double agent status then. They'll know instantly that what I told them caused all kinds of issues for them," I countered. "We think it's worth the trade-off," the interviewer averred. "How could it be worth it?" I questioned. "Because what you'll tell them will destroy their ability to build aircraft for several years and if you convince them very well, their ship building sites will also be destroyed," he smiled. "How can you do that?" I wondered. "We know that their biggest consumers of electricity are the aircraft and shipbuilding sites. Our idea can only work if they can tap into the electrical substations inside each plant. With the plans you'll provide, they can block our propaganda message," he revealed. "Or so you'll tell them." "What if someone with an ounce of brains figures out that what they need to do will blow the place up?" I challenged. "There are few if any left of the scientists who would understand what these radio transmission boosters can do. This will be especially appealing as you'll provide the frequency that we use to broadcast our propaganda over-rides. Additionally, if they test your clever idea, they'll see that the boosters do block our transmissions over a small, but significant area. What they won't see is that when the boosters reach a very high peak, there is a ghost transmission that we can read. That signal will trigger a massive bolt of high energy plasma that will erase everything within several hundred feet. From our own spies, we know the exact location of the power stations within each of the factories. We also know what buildings are nearby and how far away they are from the power station. That allows us to calibrate the power of the bolt of plasma." "Wouldn't it be easier to just blast the aircraft and ship building sites without going through the bother of getting them to add these special boosters?" I asked. "We want this to seem like their carelessness caused the explosions." "Won't they see the plasma beams?" "It will seem like lightning." "In clear skies?" "We'll just wait until there is a storm that suits us," he deflected. "This will take a few months for them to create the boosters that we'll design for them. Meanwhile, we'll start blasting them with our propaganda, making them anxious for this design and rushing the leaders to install them quickly. Besides, all the aircraft and ship building is within a few miles of the capitol city. We'll be sure that we hit them when there is no shift work going on. And we're hoping that at least some of the Grand Patriarchs will attend the silencing of the evil Aldig propaganda." "That's all too technical for me to understand," I admitted. "How do I explain why Aldig has plans to counter-act their own propaganda broadcasts?" "We always create a counter-measure whenever we create a weapon," the interviewer assured me. "You really think they'll buy this?" I asked. "We'll start the propaganda messages this weekend, so they'll be ready for anything to silence us. I think you should stay away from Blandic until Wednesday. We need time for the message and the desperation to sink in. Also, we need time to tailor the message and get some reaction to the effectiveness of that message in Faldo," he said. "I'd like to hear that message," Persid interrupted. "I have an idea that might make the message more effective against Faldo." "What's your idea?" the interviewer wondered. "I know of two former spies who are from Faldo. They know the people and the way the Grand Patriarchs operate and how the people are indoctrinated. I think Koldan and his friend Nindore should be the messengers. They have the accent and far more knowledge than our spies. They've lived there all their lives, whereas our spies are necessarily circumspect in their relationships with the people there. They won't have the depth of knowledge that Koldan and Nindore have," Persid proposed. Immediately, I loved the idea. It would get me a real job and I'd be able to do something that would accomplish "regime change" as Persid had suggested. Truthfully, I liked the idea of blasting them with propaganda until the current regime fell. We probably had months before Faldo could build and test the propaganda blockers. It may not be necessary to blast their aircraft and ship building facilities and possibly kill innocent civilians (although taking out some of the Grand Patriarchs had appeal). Additionally, the limited range of the blockers wouldn't affect the people who lived away from the capitol. The cities and towns away from the capitol contained about 80% of the population of Faldo. "I love the idea," I smiled. The interviewer looked thoughtful. "That's not a bad idea, Persid," he said. "Let me take it up with my superiors and see what they think. Meanwhile, I think we need to keep Koldan away from any public venues. If Koldan needs to go out, it should be to a secure location where no one can see him getting in or out of the vehicle, Persid. I know this is imposing upon both of you, but I think you should spend as much time as possible at home, Persid. Leaving this `spy' alone in your apartment isn't going to make convincing Blandic easier. My superiors will clear it with the commanding general, assuming they buy your suggestion. If this flies, I'll have someone bring in whatever groceries you will need until Wednesday." He paused in thought again. "I'm sure Blandic knows your vehicle on sight. And a military vehicle would be just as obvious." "So, how do we get Nindore to the apartment where I'm hiding out?" I asked. "It might be easier to have you meet here. You'd have no problem leaving your apartment building in Persid's vehicle with the blacked-out windows. The problem would be getting Nindore here. I'm sure he's being watched by the spy network, even though they know he's on our side now," the interviewer sighed. "I'm sure you could talk with him by secure radio and find out where he regularly goes or even pick him up at work, using a rear door, for instance. We could pick him up there behind the building." "How would you get the secure phone link to him?" I asked. "Leave that to us," the interviewer smiled. "We're very good at this. Would tomorrow work for everyone?" Persid and I nodded. "You should hear from him this evening at your apartment, then. I think we're done here. I'll send by secure electronic mail a copy of the propaganda message we're using against Faldo. You may share it with Nindore, but no one else. Understood?" I nodded again. On our way home, I told Persid all about Nindore. We'd had a fling some years ago that had lasted a few months, but the relationship didn't seem to be progressing. So, we decided to just be friends. Within a month of that decision, he met a wonderful scientist who thought the sun rose and set on Nindore's ass. Well, it was a pretty ass and Nindore did love to get fucked. However, after the first disastrous raid on Aldig and the subsequent liquidation of scientists, Nindore (who worked at the Ministry of Religious Orthodoxy) found that he was deeply embittered by the death of his friend. So, he volunteered to learn how to be a spy. Before the second disastrous battle, he was slipped into a small port in a country to the south of Aldig. He immediately crossed the border, went to the regional military headquarters, and turned himself in. He hated Faldo with all the enraged passion of a zealot. Nindore was held for several months, but his story rang true, so they allowed him to go to the capitol with an escort. He had an audience with the king and commanding general, having no idea what they would do with a confessed spy. He was put in the custody of another military scientist who wanted to more clearly understand where Faldo was in their understanding of aircraft design and propulsion. Clearly, Nindore was the wrong person to ask. He only knew about the inner circle of the Grand Patriarchs and their minions. But, his new keeper was so much like his former lover that he gradually came to admire and then to love him. They were able to get a message to Nindore's mother that I later read. I never did understand how he got the message to his mother, but he did. From the way the king talked about the incident, it was with the blessing of the Aldig government. Perhaps, this was the first salvo in a campaign to undermine the religious bigots of Faldo. When we got into our apartment, Dora told us that we had received a message from military intelligence which contained the propaganda message they would be broadcasting into Faldo. I nearly laughed at how lame it was. This would cause the people of Faldo to laugh, too. This would not convince them to topple their government. Someone with only a surface understanding of Faldo must have created it. Our credibility would be seriously damaged by this message. I asked Persid to immediately call military intelligence and get them to cancel the broadcast right away. This whole campaign was starting out very badly. They thought I was overreacting, but after I joined the conversation and told them the many reasons this message was all wrong, they agreed to stop the planned broadcast and reconsider their approach. Persid and I talked for a couple of hours, outlining what a new message should contain and the tone it should take. Dora helped us by organizing the points I was making into an approach that would convince the people making the decision. I assumed those deciders would be the King and Commanding General. After another delicious dinner prepared by Persid, we selected another science show to watch. As the show began, Nindore called. He and I caught up on how we'd both arrived at this important point in our personal histories. He'd been briefed on why he'd been selected to help out with the message to be broadcast. He agreed to the meeting tomorrow. Persid suggested that we should get together as two couples for dinner on Friday after the meeting. He checked with his husband and agreed. We would sort out later how military intelligence would sneak them into our apartment building. With a promise to work on what he thought should be in the message, Nindore broke the connection. I was so excited to talk to him again and to finally see him again after several years; I couldn't concentrate on the air-vision program. I kept bombarding Persid with questions about how he'd approach this message that we were composing for Faldo. Finally, he turned off the program and indulged my scattered, one-sided conversation. The only way to get me to shut up was to put his lips to mine. It worked. My need to work on the message was quickly overwhelmed by my need to be near him and feel his body next to mine. He took me by the hand and pulled me into the bedroom. We undressed each other slowly. After a quick, soapy dash through the shower, we tumbled into bed in a 69 position. We blew each other, but without rushing. For several minutes, I savored the taste of his sweet precum. I'm sure he was lapping up an equal portion of mine. Occasionally, we moved on to eating ass, but always returned to blowing each other. Several times, I had to push him away from my overheated dick and shove his face into my ass. But, he always returned to my thick, long dick and sucked up my leaking precum. He was addicted and couldn't stay away from my sweet dick dew. "You gotta stop," I moaned. "I'm gonna nutt if you keep working your tongue like that." I pushed at his head, but he only sucked harder. My nuts were boiling. I wanted to save my sauce for his ass, but he wasn't reading my mind. "I'm gonna CUM!" I shouted. He sucked harder, bobbing his head and swirling his tongue around the sensitive head. My dick jerked hard and pumped a jet of dick gravy into the back of his throat. I felt him swallow. Immediately, my hard baby-maker fired again and again. More juice sprayed over his tongue. Twice more he swallowed. My climax hit a peak as I thrashed beneath him. Persid jacked my throbbing member, trying to extract more baby gravy from it as he sucked and swallowed again. Rogue waves of climax hit me again and again, jetting more cream into his mouth. He pulled off my wet dick and slipped his tongue up my asshole. I could feel him pushing the last dribbles and squirts of my juice up my ass. Persid flipped me on to my back and rested my legs on his broad shoulders. His dick easily slid up my butt and buried itself completely. He leaned in and kissed me, slowly adding thrusts in and out of my hungry hole. I grabbed his ass and pulled him hard against me. "You have all night to drill and fill me," I suggested between kisses. He smiled and resumed his languid in-and-out motions. I thought about using my ass muscles to bring him off faster, but decided that I enjoyed his love-making skills too much to rush this along to a creamy finish. With mounting ardor, he pressed my knees harder into my chest, slowly increasing his fucking pace, spreading my ass even more. His kisses added more passion. Unable to hold back, my ass muscles began massaging and sucking on his bloated sausage. I needed him inside me, but I needed his baby sauce even more. "Please, Persid!" I begged. "I need your cum in my ass. Make some babies with me!" I needn't have worried. A few seconds later, I felt his fat dick jerk hard. Warm sperm jetted into my ass in rapid sprays. He pounded my hole and my ass greedily drank every drop of his creamy load. He was buried so far up my butt tunnel that when he pulled out and tried to eat out some of his load, he got very little of it. But, he did share what he harvested with another deep kiss. We slept like stones. During breakfast, Dora told us that the meeting was set for 10:00 a.m., but that we should arrive by 9:00 so that Nindore and I would have time to catch up and compare notes on what we thought should be in the message and how it should be presented. Persid acknowledged the message. I asked Dora to transfer last night's idea to Fiona, so I could take that along to the meeting. When that was accomplished, we once more journeyed to the headquarters of military intelligence. On the way, I had a couple more ideas which I asked Fiona to add to last night's musings. Once more clearing three levels of security, we were shown to the same meeting room we were in yesterday. Nindore was already there. I rushed over and picked him up and spun him around, planting a big kiss on his lips. "My husband will be so jealous," he laughed. "Of a kiss?" I smiled, patting his round, hard ass. "I've had your ass, but he has your heart, Nindore. He'll get over that kiss from me." "That's true. And he chases me around the house and pounds my ass like he hasn't had sex in ages. The man's as sexually needy as you are," he reminded me. "And this is your new husband?" he asked, nodding to Persid. "Almost husband," Persid smiled. "We're only a little over a week into knowing each other." "You've done very well, Koldan," Nindore said. "A colonel and a hottie!" Persid blushed. "I'll bet he's amazing in bed," he added. "Look at that body and especially his round, hard ass. As much of a bottom as I am, I'd be tempted to tap that beautiful thing." "You'd be more tempted to sit on his big dick, I think," I revealed. "I sure do!" "I knew you had it in you to be a flipper," Nindore said. "I just wasn't the one to do that for you. My loss." "So, tell me about your husband?" I asked him. All this time, Persid just sat back and smiled or blushed. I was almost ignoring him as I concentrated on Nindore and our salacious conversation. But, I recognized my error and took Persid by the hand and brought it up to my lips and kissed his fingers. "I hope your husband is as good to you as this potential husband is to me." "Eclid is smarter than smart," Nindore began. "He's handsome, tall, slender, makes me laugh, is so good in bed that I have to pinch myself that he's mine, and he's a former Imperial Guard, so you know he's got the dick of death," he laughed. "What about you, Nindore? What kind of work are you doing?" Persid asked. "I work at a plant shop, selling flowers and plants," Nindore said. "I've always loved plants and flowers. It took a little while to get all the names of plants that were new to me or had different names than what I knew them as in Faldo. But, its good work and I really enjoy it." I pulled out my personal assistant machine (Fiona) and ran through my ideas with Nindore. He added several suggestions or embellishments from his personal assistant. Together, we had a pretty solid presentation that we thought was brilliant. But, that wasn't up to us to decide just how brilliant it was. The conference room door opened promptly at 10:00, and our previous interviewer entered, along with two other people, a man and a woman. After introductions, we settled down to telling them what Nindore and I had come up with. They took notes on their personal assistants, asked several clarifying questions. Their nodding and smiles told us that they liked most of our ideas and understood why we'd suggested them. "There's a depth of understanding here that we don't possess," said the woman. "I can see how this could begin to undermine a government. We could also add some disinformation about the personal lives of the Grand Patriarchs that would undermine their credibility from another angle." "Such as?" Nindore asked. "We understand that the Patriarchs are supposed to be holy men, above reproach, not tempted my pleasures of the flesh or money," she suggested. "Well, that's generally true," Nindore allowed. "But, you have to tread warily here. Everyone knows that they live in high style in palaces with many servants catering to their every need. So, I think the money angle should be dropped. However, their licentious behavior does merit additional discussion. Being part of the Ministry of Religious Orthodoxy, I know that more than one of them had a boyfriend on the side and several of the others enjoyed the company of ladies who were not their wives. It was the worst kept secret in the Ministry." "It's a known fact that over 20% of all males is gay, another 10% swing both ways," the second man observed. "That must hold true in Faldo as well. Therefore, we have to assume that of the 22 Grand Patriarchs, about four of them are gay and another two are more than interested in male sex." "We can use that," the interviewer said. "Isn't it true that they are always preaching and remonstrating about the gay curse and how debauched Aldig is because of that?" Nindore and I nodded. "This can be a major theme to use against them. Do you have names that you know or think are gay?" Nindore suggested four and I added two others that I had heard were dawdling with men. Nindore also added five more names of Patriarchs that he knew were renting women or had a female companion who wasn't his wife. Nindore returned to work with a promise to bring his husband for dinner that evening. "And we need to get you to the central data base for your DNA ring," Persid reminded me. "I need to pump a load into your ass first," I whispered in his ear as we left the conference room. "Can we go home first?" "How about the men's room here?" he leered at me. "Besides, my nuts are boiling already, so your ass will be bred, too." "I can handle that," I grinned as we walked six paces to the left and entered a deserted men's room. "The stall on the end?" Persid nodded agreement. I opened the door to the stall and dropped my pants. Leaning over the toilet with my hands on the wall, I bent over and spread my ass cheeks. "Fuck me, Persid!" I begged. "We didn't get to breed this morning before we got here, so I really need it now." He squatted behind me and slipped his long, wet tongue up my hole. "Delicious as always," he purred and went back to feasting on my manhole. "I can still taste the load from last night," he crooned. "Damn, I gotta fuck!" he added as he stood up and slid his big dick deep into me. "Yeah, hot ass!" he moaned. "Breed me, Persid! I really need this," I urged. I grabbed his muscle butt and pulled him harder into me. With each thrust, I pushed back into him. My hard dick slapped against my abs each time he rammed forward, leaving a wet trail of precum. "Fill me up with your baby batter. I wanna feel your nutt jet deeply into me!" Persid growled and grabbed my hips. After a few more thrusts, he held me tightly against his groin and moaned loudly. "Take it!" he breathed. "Fuckin' TAKE IT!!" Jet after jet of warm cream splashed into my eager, thirsty ass tunnel. I clamped and released his jerking dick, trying to milk as much of his baby batter as I could from his pumping dick. His hips pounded against me as more juice filled me up. His climax peaked with a violent shove up my ass. That spray of dick gravy blasted harder than any of the previous ones. No one ever fucked me as well as this man can. Getting bred by him was nearly as satisfying as pumping my own baby-making sauce into his eager hole. He pulled out about a minute later and turned around. I licked his hole for only a few seconds. If I didn't push into him immediately, my load would splatter all over the floor. I stood up, pushed in, and climaxed, all within five seconds. The waves of pleasure hit me hard, causing my hips to punch hard against his muscular ass cheeks and my body to nearly collapse on to his back. More cum poured from my thick, long dick. If there were any chance for a pregnancy, Persid would have had a litter with this load. With my climax slowly rolling into the background, I pulled out of his well-bred ass. I sat on the toilet and stuffed my face into his butt canyon. I lapped up a lot of cum despite the fact that I'd shot my load so deep. Of course, it was delicious. Persid pulled away after a minute and turned me around, giving my ass the same treatment. He ate me out like he was starving. His tongue felt so good inside me. I'd have to remember to do a lot more face-sitting in the future in our bedroom. I was really enjoying this. Eventually, he pulled away. But, I made him turn around so I could give him another felching as good as he gave me. He didn't have to be convinced to spread his ass cheeks so I could eat him deeper. Using my personal assistant, we scheduled a mid-afternoon appointment at the general data base. In an attempt to stay out of sight from Blandic and his minions, we decided to have lunch at the military intelligence café. The food was good, if uninspired. At the appropriate hour, we drove into the secure, underground parking area reserved for database appointments. Persid showed them his credentials and asked to see the manager. Impressing on the manager the dangerous nature of those who might do me harm, the manager instructed the technician to open a file for me, but not allow the information to go to any other database. If any inquiries were made, I was designated as Profile 88901. There were many other DNA files that were also secret, including the King and the Commanding General. Authorizations for the bank and others that I'd have to interact with would be granted, but no data behind the authorizations would be available. This wasn't rare, but it was uncommon. Merchants would accept my ring authorization without question. They only looked for authorization, nothing more. With that task behind us, we drove back to the apartment. Persid had decided earlier that we would have roasted meat with vegetables. He planned a fruit salad for a side dish as well as a starch that I'd never seen before. He assured me that it was very tasty and good for me. I shrugged and asked what I could do to help him prepare the dinner. As the meal wasn't scheduled until seven in the evening, there was no need to start preparations yet. We had asked that Nindore and his new husband arrive about an hour early so we could have cocktails and conversation before dinner. "I was asked by the head interviewer if he thought you'd be interested in a job with military intelligence," Persid began. "What kind of job?" I asked. "They think you'd be perfect for the voice of the Faldo Patriotic Underground: the propaganda program they are trying to get off the ground," Persid revealed. "I love the name," I smiled. "And having the voice be one from Faldo will give it more credibility. Has there been any discussion about what to do besides the subversive message? It can't be my voice and all that talking for hours on end. Just how long are these broadcasts supposed to be each day?" "The initial idea was to have the broadcast run from six in the morning until midnight," Persid said. "But, that was the earliest discussions. I don't know what they're planning now." "Are you thinking of live programming or repeating the same thing day after day?" "I'm not sure what they've decided." "In my opinion, it has to be fresh each day," I insisted. "Otherwise, they'll stop listening all together." "That'll require a lot more time than you've got to put into it each day." "And what about days off or weekends?" I pressed. "I don't know that, either." "We need to talk to Nindore tonight to see if he's interested in being one of the Faldo Patriotic Underground announcers," I proposed. "He's another native speaker. But, I don't know how attached he is to his current job. I'd hate for this to be a short-term thing and then he'd have no job to go back to." "A fair point," Persid agreed. "If we did make the broadcast live, we'll need a lot more people to help with the broadcasting. Surely, military intelligence knows more than the two of you from Faldo." "When they train agents to spy in Faldo, they have to give them language training. Maybe we can recruit some people from there? And I assume that I'm talking about men and women?" "That would be my assumption, too," Persid said. "I think this deserves a call to our main contact in military intelligence and suggest your ideas to him. That'll give him something to think about over the weekend." This story is fiction. Your life isn't. Always play safe. 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