A Good Servant Ch. 17

By Laura S. Fox

Copyright 2018 Laura S. Fox

All Rights Reserved

Gay Erotica

Intended for Mature Audiences Only

This story contains graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, strong language and it is not meant for readers who are less than 18 years of age.

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Chapter Seventeen

The apparatus coughed and steered to the left. Cory could see the sweat pouring off Edgar's forehead.

"We're going to crash, aren't we?" he shouted the question, feeling in his gut the danger they were in.

"This is all I can do," Edgar shouted back, trying to cover the sound of the howling wind. "Hold on tight!"

Cory felt in every muscle in his body how their machine impacted with the ground. The dunes seemed to have been their savior, though, and, as he moved to get up, he was glad to discover that every bone in his body felt intact. The wind was whipping up the sand, getting it in his eyes, his mouth, and any other place that was not adequately covered by clothes.

He hurried to find Edgar. The man looked a bit shaken, but he was okay.

"We're alive!" Edgar raised his arms gleefully.

"That we are," Cory exhaled.

The Aerian had dirt on his face, but he was smiling.

"It's quite a heck of an adventure so far, isn't it, Cory?" Edgar kept yelling while striving to walk straight through the sand engulfing his feet.

"It sure is, my friend, it sure is," Cory grabbed his arm to help him out.

Sitting on top of a tall dune, they looked around.

"Well, where to now?" Cory mostly spoke to himself.

"I suppose we should keep going west," Edgar said energetically after stealing a quick glance at his compass, and started descending, with Cory following close.

It was a good thing they felt so alive, Cory thought. The road ahead of them was still long.

~A Good Servant~

The Trainer in charge looked through the books on the table and the floor.

"There is nothing in here," he flipped through the pages. "Nothing but empty pages."

Another Trainer stared over his shoulder. "I told the Head Trainer we should have never let that idiot Hector here in Aeria, to poison young minds."

"You know very well the Head Trainer had no choice," the first one spoke. "He ... We had to let time run its course. Hector is dead now."

The second Trainer puffed in annoyance. "It took him long enough to die."

"He could not be ... eliminated."

"What are we going to do now? It looks like they practically disappeared."

"The desert will take care of them. They could not get too far in that contraption."

"Should we organize a search?"

The Trainer in charge hesitated for a moment.

"It looks like wasted time at this point. But do the usual. Even if they escape to one of the free cities, they cannot do anything. They are powerless. They are all powerless."

"Yes, brother. We are the only one true power," the other agreed. "But ... they chose to travel west."

"There is only Tresalt west. They'll die at the gates. And that if they even get there."

"Are you sure of that, brother?"

"They're men. No man has ever entered Tresalt."

~A Good Servant~

Cory licked his parched lips for the umpteenth time. It looked like there was nothing but the desert around them. Edgar had fallen silent, walking next to him.

They had been walking through the desert for hours, and neither of them dared to say the obvious. They were lost. Edgar stopped and knelt on the sand.

"Cory, let's take a small break, please," he asked.

"Edgar, we should just keep going," Cory insisted, taking his friend's hand and helping him get up again.

"We are too far from any livable place, aren't we?"

Cory nodded.

"Let's just walk," the former servant insisted. "We'll get somewhere, somehow."

Edgar sighed and got up again.

"Well, the good part is that the Trainers won't kill us," he said philosophically.

Cory took his hand, and they started walking again. He could feel Edgar growing wearier and wearier. His hope was not going to die. Not just yet.

They continued to walk like that. Cory could feel his legs growing numb, but he wasn't going to let Edgar's hand slip from his, and he wasn't going to say that they were lost.

"Cory, look!" Edgar suddenly shouted, pointing at something on the horizon. "It's something there!"

Cory could feel laughter bubbling in his chest.

"I bet it's Tresalt! Let's go!"

It was Edgar's turn to drag Cory after him.

~A Good Servant~

"You are responding very well to retraining, Lucas," the Head Trainer showed his teeth in a cold smile.

The brunet nodded briefly. "Thank you."

The green eyes looked calm, serene. The Head Trainer's fingers were tapping against the armrests.

"I am more than impressed. I was expecting ... at least a bit of resistance."

"I am here to serve," Lucas spoke.

"I have important plans laid out for you. We intend to make you First Ruler, in Xavier's stead. My brothers and I are all in an agreement on the matter."

Lucas bowed politely.

"In this role, we want you to handle an important mission."

Grey orbs searched Lucas's eyes.

"As you well know, there are a few scattered cities across the continent that are still not under our control. The people there live under the illusion that they are free when all they do is live like animals. We need to put order into things."

"What do you have in mind, Father?"

"Some evil can be made right. But some is so twisted, that you need to cut it right from the roots. We have worked hard to streamline the production of the population in all our cities. A simple, efficient wipeout would be in order."

"Do we have the resources to do that? I doubt it," Lucas offered his input.

"Not just yet, but we are getting there. We still need to hear from Aeria. They are continuously working on our most important project."

"I am afraid I do not know too much about it. I suppose I wasn't involved in it."

"We decided long ago to let the scientists work separately on different parts of the project, without letting anyone in charge. However, since their research is so advanced, it is time that we start developing the final stage."

Lucas's expression was imperturbable.

"When we will start the wipeout process, Tresalt will be included, too."

"Tresalt?" Lucas expressed his surprise. "But that is where all the women live."

"When our project is finished, we will not need them anymore. Their inferior nature will no longer influence or play a role in our creation."

"Is that possible? I do not have extensive knowledge of their biology, but women cannot be replaced in the reproductive process."

"That is exactly what we are aiming for. To replace them once and forever."

Lucas continued to remain impassive.

"Are you sure everything is all right?" the Head Trainer demanded.

"Why shouldn't it be?" Lucas chased away some lint from his lapel.

The Head Trainer continued to look at him, but Lucas didn't flinch. His demeanor was nothing but flawless. He rose and bowed politely, as the grey ghost gestured for him that he was free to go.

"It's odd," the Head Trainer spoke out loud.

"What is, brother?" another Trainer emerged from the dark.

"Lord Lucas ... I was expecting something else."

"His response to retraining is absolutely impeccable. As expected from a son educated by us."

"It is expected, of course. But Lucas is not ordinary."

"None of our brightest sons is ordinary."

"I am not talking about his intellect. I am talking about his emotions. What do the tests say? You were in charge of the program, I think."

"Yes, brother. His fundamentals were changed, as indicated. We noticed no emotional distress throughout the process. His mind absorbed everything, like a sponge. Now that you mention it, I thought it to be a bit strange, too. Only in retraining performed on younger minds, I've seen such response."

"Do you have a theory about this?"

The Trainer hesitated for a second. "Could it be he destroyed the surface of his cortex on purpose? I highly doubt it. He doesn't have the means. It looks like his emotions are no longer there at all. Another explanation would be he suffered so much at some point, that the failsafe implanted in his brain decided to wipe everything related to an emotional response, to protect itself."

"That could be, indeed," the Head Trainer agreed. "I know Lord Lucas has a brilliant mind, but, as you say, he doesn't have the means to perform such a complex task. Either way, he is now completely ours. There is nothing between us and our final goal."

The other Trainer bowed reverently.

"Soon," the Head Trainer spoke slowly, "soon there will be no one else but us and those who serve us."

~A Good Servant~

Xavier thoughtfully examined the bracelet around his wrist.

"When you were asleep, I wanted to take it off. It looks like solid platinum or something. It would have fetched a nice price on the market," Ayn sat next to his lover. "The problem is I could not remove it."

"Couldn't you have just asked nicely?" Xavier glared.

"All right, I am asking you nicely. Give me that, and I'll turn it into money. Like magic, you know," Ayn snickered and stole a quick kiss from Xavier.

"I cannot take it off, either," Xavier said simply, licking his lips and pretending to be unaffected by the small signs of affection Ayn was displaying so casually.

"No shit," the guy showed his surprise. "Should we use a tool or anything? That is if you are not particularly attached to it."

"I'm not. Not anymore," Xavier pondered while looking at the bracelet and letting his eyes slide over the faint glow. "If we take it off, you can't sell it," he said determinedly.

"I won't?" Ayn smiled as he knew better.

"You won't because it's not a regular bracelet."

Ayn straightened up. "What is it then?"

"It has cutting edge technology incorporated in it. There is an alarm system, and also a tracking device."

Ayn tensed. "Do you mean those in Drena know where you are? Right now?"

"The device seems to be dormant. I doubt its signal range was designed to work this far from Drena. Nonetheless, if we sell it, we could be found."

"You mean you could be found," Ayn said slowly.

"Yes, I could be found."

"And ... don't you want to be found?"

Xavier turned to stare at his lover. Ayn was tense, although he tried to assume a relaxed stance. Without a moment of hesitation, Xavier let his right hand slide across a muscular thigh, dressed in tight denim. Ayn exhaled as Xavier's deft fingers reached his crotch and grabbed his manhood through the fabric.

"Only those who are lost can be found. I am not lost. I finally found myself."

Ayn's lips parted. Xavier pushed him on the bed and glued their bodies together.

"Dry humping is no fun," Ayn pretended to pout.

Xavier bit him softly on the lips. "It won't be dry for long, I promise."

His hands traveled at the hem of Ayn's t-shirt, pushing it up, revealing taut abs, raising and falling under his skilled caress.

Ayn's hands mirrored his as he was made to shed the white t-shirt donning his upper body.

"I like it so much when I can feel you like this, so close to me, skin on skin," Xavier murmured, between small, tentative kisses that were only meant to fuel their desire further.

Ayn grinned wildly. "Do you love me or something?"

"I've been known to do worse things than this," Xavier chuckled and, without further delay, he pushed himself up so he could help his partner out of his jeans.

He looked at the dark organ, twitching, and weeping, resting on Ayn's lower belly. He bent to lick the precum off the head.

"Fuck, Xav," Ayn grabbed at his hair. "Have I ever told you how much I love your blowjobs?"

"Countless times."

"Then I'll tell you once again. You're the best cocksucker who's ever lived."

"I suppose I should take it as a compliment."

"Hey, keeping that position may be tricky. Less talking, more sucking."

Xavier didn't have to be told twice. In one fell swoop, he engulfed Ayn's hard cock into his mouth and started deepthroating. Ayn's hands were holding him in place, guiding him to take it deeper and deeper.

Suddenly, Ayn pulled at his hair, forcing him to stop.

"What?" he asked annoyed.

"I want to come inside you, but not in your mouth."

"You're quite demanding, aren't you?"

"Please," Ayn flashed his gorgeous smile, making Xavier roll his eyes.

"Oh, no, you said the magic word," Xavier teased, but he let his lover get on top and undress him completely.

He was made to stay with his ass on the edge of the bed, and rest his legs on Ayn's shoulders. As always, the young man was taking his time to make him ready. He could not deny that Ayn's deft tongue and mouth playing with his nut sack and his hole were making him see stars behind his eyelids.

"I love eating you out," he heard Ayn talking. "You're opening up for me as you've never done for anyone. Tell me, Xav, please."

"What do you want me to tell you?" Xavier whispered.

"How I'm the best for you like you're the best for me."

"You are, Ayn. You are my one and only."

It looked like Xavier had his fair share of magic words as that was enough to make Ayn straighten up and place himself between the other's legs, ready for penetration.

"I love you, cocksucker," Ayn said affectionately and kissed Xav deeply as he pushed inside.

"I love you, too, fool," Xavier replied as soon as he was allowed to breathe.

~A Good Servant~

"It doesn't look like there is a door or anything," Cory touched the tall wall in front of them. "We have no idea where that door is, so we will just have to search around it until we find it," he concluded.

Edgar looked at the tall wall, squinting.

"Or we could yell. Hey!" he called loudly.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Edgar, but that doesn't sound like such a good idea. What are the chances we will be heard?"

"You cannot know until you try it. Come on, shout with me," Edgar encouraged him.

Cory shrugged and started to shout together with Edgar. The wall before them remained silent.

"I think it's useless," Cory said discouraged.

"Let's just keep walking and yelling until someone notices us," Edgar suggested.

They began dragging their feet. Cory knew they were both at their wit's end, but didn't have the heart to say it out loud.

The night was cold, and it was approaching fast. When Edgar asked him to stop a little so they could catch their breath, Cory no longer opposed.

They stood side by side, their backs against the wall.

"It was still a nice adventure," he heard Edgar speaking like through a haze.

"For what is worth, I'm sorry I've dragged you into this, Edgar," Cory expressed his apologies.

"No worries, my friend. It had to happen sooner or later, and if I had died in Aeria, lonely and without ever being allowed to experience anything, what kind of life would that have been?"

"You're a good man, Edgar. I am proud to be called your friend."

"Same here, Cory, same here."

"What do you think will happen to us?"

"The temperature will fall fast. If we survive the night, we might die slowly of hunger. Or cold. Or both. Not a nice way to go, I guess."

Cory just nodded. As his eyelids closed, he sent his thoughts to Lucas. His memory was fading, and he was trying to hold on to it with all his might. Instead, another, bright and calm, engulfed him. The light inside was soothing and familiar.

"Mother, if you are there," he found himself talking, "please guide us."

A deafening sound made them jump to their feet.

"What was that?" he wondered.

"I have no idea," Edgar supplied the exact answer he was expecting.

In the faint light of the moon, he saw some contraption descending quickly down the wall.

"Should we run?" the Aerian asked.

"I don't think I have the energy for that. Let's wait and see what happens."

The object landed next to them with a thump. It looked like a metal box, empty on the inside. There was no one in it, but it had a rope attached to it that now stretched across the wall. Cory pondered. Edgar was again, a bit quicker and jumped over the ledge to get inside.

"Come on, Cory, I suppose this is just the way of the people here saying `welcome'. I think it can hold us both."

"Always the optimist," Cory laughed, but jumped into the box, next to Edgar.

They waited for a while, holding their hands together. The case finally started to move upwards, much slower than when it descended. Cory felt as if it took forever for them to reach the top of the wall.

"All right, now what?" he tried to see something through the dark.

Suddenly, the box started moving again. Cory was pretty sure he was shouting louder than Edgar, as the contraption began gliding on something that looked like rails with incredible speed. When the box finally stopped, they were projected against a wall, and they fell to the ground.

Cory could feel his head hurting like hell.

"Why on earth did you bring them up?" he heard a woman's voice, not far from them.

"Since when do we let people die?" another voice, much younger, responded.

"Not people, they are men," the first voice said disdainfully.

"Still people, in my opinion," the younger female grumbled.

Cory kept his eyes closed, pretending to be unconscious. He hoped Edgar was doing the same, in case he was not already out due to the impact.

"They're cute," he heard the young one giggling.

"Diane, you're crazy. We need to bring someone older than us here."

A noncommittal grunt was the only response from the woman called Diane. They didn't seem dangerous, Cory thought and risked opening his eyes.

Suddenly, something cold and sharp was pressed against his throat, and he gulped.

"We mean no harm," he spoke softly.

"Don't you dare look at us," the older female hissed. "Diane, cover your face, idiot."

"You're no fun," the younger one complained, but Cory could judge by the swooshing sound of clothing that she was obeying.

"Now, state your business," the first woman demanded while pressing the blade against his throat again.

"It's kind of hard to do that while you're almost chopping my head off," he said daringly.

Diane laughed. "He has a point, Adrienne. Just let the poor guy breathe."

The blade was removed from his neck, and he rose on his haunches. The room they were in was poorly lit, and the two women looked like two indistinguishable black silhouettes, covered in clothes from head to toes.

"My friend and I are lost," Cory started talking. Next to him, Edgar moved, sign that he was, too, conscious. "Is this Tresalt? The city of women?"

"Yes, it is," Adrienne answered sharply. "If you have half a brain, you go back where you came from, right now."

"That's not an option for us."

"We cannot keep you here."

"Yes, we can," Diane intervened, and Cory's eyes grew wide when the older woman practically slapped the younger one upside the head. "Ouch, that hurt."

"Keep your mouth shut. We don't know who these two are."

"We're here to see Tora," Edgar spoke this time around, as Cory was too absorbed to observe the dynamics between those two.

The women stopped their quarreling and remained unmoved.

"There is no one by this name here," Adrienne eventually spoke, and Cory could sense fear in her voice.

"Yes, there is," he contradicted her. "Old Hector sent us."

"Old Hector? The good ol' sack of bones?" Diane spoke out of turn again, earning another slap from Adrienne.

"You two should just leave," Adrienne spoke again, ignoring Diane's protests.

"We have nowhere to go," Cory insisted. "We are running from the Trainers."

"And they didn't catch you. Ha, you want me to buy this bullshit?" Adrienne stood her ground. "We will just let you back outside, and you will see about your business."

"No, Adrienne, they will die out there," Diane spoke more determinedly this time. "We will take them inside."

"Like hell, we will."

"Who was put in charge of the gates? Was it you or me?" Diane spoke defiantly.

Adrienne masked her displeasure with a small grunt.

"Come one, men," Adrienne didn't hide her disgust as she said the last word, "get up and follow us. No tricks or you'll see how sharp my blade is."

Cory helped Edgar up, and both started walking in silence behind Adrienne. Diane was escorting them from the back.

"Don't worry about her," Diane whispered. "She's all milk and honey once you get to know her."

"What are you doing, Diane? Chatting up the prisoners?"

"Prisoners?" Edgar expressed his surprise. "I thought we were guests."

"That's debatable," Adrienne said philosophically. "Until we're sure you're here with no bad intentions, you are prisoners."

They walked through an empty hallway, dark and humid. After that, a long flight of stairs, spiraling down, guided them to the lower levels.

The entrance to the inner city seemed like a labyrinth, Cory thought. He was pretty sure he would not be able to go back on the same path and reach the exterior, without getting lost.

Finally, they stopped in front of a large wooden door. Adrienne knocked softly like she was afraid she was going to disturb the ones inside.

Cory could not hear anyone answering, but it looked like there had been some signal that only Adrienne understood because the door opened without a sound.

As they passed over the threshold, Cory felt his breath catching in his chest. The room inside was tall and narrow, and at the back, a colossal statue representing the woman he had seen in the mines and Edgar's books was dominating over the entire place. There were lines of wooden benches on which other women dressed all in black from head to toes stood hunched over what looked like small books.

Everyone turned to look at them. Like on cue, whispers rose from the crowd. Cory felt a bit uncomfortable, but strangely enough, he wasn't afraid. The room was warm and lit by what looked like dozens of tall candles.

"What did you bring us here today, Adrienne?" he heard an old woman speak, as she walked down the aisle, slowly, painfully, barely dragging her feet.

He could not tell how old she was since she was also covered in black garments, like the rest. But her voice sounded frail, and the way she moved was enough indication that she was very old, indeed.

"Two prisoners," Adrienne spoke. "They say the Trainers hunt them."

"And why did you let them in?" the old woman inquired.

"I let them," Diane made her presence known. "Adrienne had no choice since you put me in charge of the gates."

The old woman chuckled softly. "Diane, you're so impulsive, aren't you? So, what made these two men worthy of entering Tresalt?"

"They were all alone down there, yelling and hoping for someone to let them in. I could not let the desert have them."

The old woman got closer, and she was helped by Adrienne to straighten up a little. Cory remained silent, waiting.

"What are you two doing here?" the old lady finally asked.

"We're looking for Tora. Hector told us we would find her here."

"And? What is Tora supposed to do with you?"

"I guess she could help us get away from the Trainers."

"The Trainers are powerful. What can a simple woman do against them?" the old woman continued her inquiry.

Cory hesitated for a moment. Then he remembered something from the books. "All men come from a woman's womb. A mother's love is the most powerful, not the Trainers."

"Very well. It looks like you learned your lesson, young man. You speak the words, but you don't believe them."

"How could I?" Cory spoke softly. "I've been raised by the Trainers. I do not understand a mother's love. I don't know what that is."

A scrawny hand rose to touch his cheek. "You have your mother's eyes," she whispered, then she caressed his hair gently. "And her hair."

Adrienne made a small sound of surprise. Diane was quick to talk again.

"What are you saying, Tora? Is he ...?"

"Shut up, idiot," Adrienne grumbled, and this time, she covered Diane's mouth with one hand and kept her in place.

All the women in the room stood up. Cory felt all tingling for some strange reason. So the old woman was Tora, the one they were looking for.

"There could be just a coincidence, of course," Tora added.

Everyone seemed to be waiting, the air strung with anticipation.

"Remove your shirt, young man," the old woman commanded.

"Why?" he asked, feeling suspicious at the request.

Adrienne didn't wait to be told what to do. She grabbed him and started undressing him. He felt a bit like a doll in the tall woman's hands. Adrienne seemed strong.

He was turned towards Tora with his right shoulder. Old fingers touched the mark.

"Yes, it is him," she concluded, and the place filled with excited exclamations from all the women in the room. "Welcome to Tresalt, Cory."

"How do you know my name?" he murmured.

"You are her son," Tora spoke gently. "I have been waiting for you all my life."

"Her son? Whose?" he felt he needed to ask.

"Beautiful as her, but not as sharp?" Tora joked, to ease his nervousness. "She's right in front of you."

Looking at the statue, Cory gulped. He should have seen it from the first time he had seen the woman in the mines. He was nothing short of her spitting image.

~A Good Servant~

Dion was still waiting in the kitchen when John came back late at night. The redhead hurried to welcome his partner. The big man looked tired, his face ashen.

"Hey," he called softly and offered to take his coat.

"Hey," John answered back.

"Do you want to eat something?" Dion gestured for the kitchen.

"I don't think I can. They feed us three large meals down there. Sorry to keep you waiting."

"No problem," Dion said with a small regret.

John headed for the shower, while Dion slid under the covers. The man seemed distant. It had to be because he felt so tired, Dion thought.

When John came to bed, Dion made a small move to touch him.

"I'm sorry, Dion. I need to sleep."

"It's all right," the redhead spoke.

He stared in the dark, as John drifted off to sleep. He could not be an egoist, with John having to work such long hours now. But he could not deny feeling deserted, after having John's love for so long. Never before had it happened for the big man to be too tired for making love with Dion.

He tried to make the man's profile through the darkness of the room. He touched him, and a feeling of dread engulfed him. John's body was hard as a rock, unmoving like there was no life in it. Worry and fear crept in, squeezing Dion's heart painfully.

"John," he called, hesitantly at first. "John," he raised his voice, becoming more and more panicked at the lack of reaction from his lover.

John's eyes suddenly snapped open. They looked translucent, unworldly in the faint moonlight filtered through the curtain.

"Go back to sleep, Dion," he ordered, and the strange eyes closed shut again.

Dion felt a cold chill seeping through the room. His eyes searched for the source of the unwelcome draft, but the door and the windows were carefully shut. Curling into a fetal position, his back away from John, he tried to warm himself. Heavy sleep hung on his eyelids, and he drifted off, in a whirlpool of sensations, all pulling at his senses from all directions.

He was in a swamp, no light in sight; he could feel the humid air, packed with foul smells rising from the moist ground clamping at his feet. Loss, his mind echoed, and he felt like crying. He didn't want to lose. Loss, the strange voice in his mind echoed again, and Dion moved his feet forward, not knowing what to do but that.

Suddenly, there was warmth again, as strong hands were holding him, cradling him. His right hand swiped a sweaty forehead, and he realized he was awake.

"Are you all right, love?" he heard his partner's voice. "You were thrashing in your sleep."

John sounded worried but more important, he sounded like himself. Dion turned to face him, and calloused fingers carefully wiped the tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Was it a bad dream? It's fine now," John held him tightly, kissing him gently.

"John," Dion whispered meekly. "What's wrong?"

"With me? I wasn't the one having a nightmare just now," the man cooed softly.

"Earlier, you were ..."

"I was what?" John seemed confused.

"Cold."

"Towards you? You were sleeping when I got in. And I'll never be cold towards you, sweetheart, you know that."

"What? John, don't you remember? I waited for you in the kitchen. We talked."

"I ... are you sure? Because I am quite certain I came home and went straight to bed. You were sleeping so soundly; I didn't want to bother you."

Dion felt fear, dark and twisted, and it was like a physical sensation grabbing him by the neck.

"I don't understand," he began shivering. "You were so cold. Not towards me. Your skin was cold. Your body was like ... all stiff."

"Hush, love," John cradled him in his strong arms. "It was nothing but a nightmare."

He was starting to feel better, the warmth radiating from the man's much larger body engulfing him.

"I miss you so much," he let out his pain.

"I'm here, baby," John cooed and slowly began pushing down Dion's flimsy nightgown.

Lips he knew so well traveled along his collarbone, slowly nipping at the damp skin. Dion shivered, but this time not from cold. John placed him slowly on the bed, making room for himself between slender legs that came to wrap around his waist.

His lover was infinitely gentle in his caresses, and in his taking. Dion thrashed and squirmed with each long stroke, with each long thrust. It was like John wanted to make it last, to make it linger. Somehow, he felt it was not in anyone's power to do that. Postponing the inevitable was nothing but pure luxury, and Dion just chose the moment, the exhilarating feeling of having his man deeply impaled into his body, driving him insane with his slow lovemaking.

In the morning, John was gone again and the leftovers from the previous night were untouched. Dion remained alone in the bed, enjoying the fading scent of his lover from the sheets, while his mind began working.

~A Good Servant~

It was not difficult to get in touch with Andreas, right after finishing his shift. Apparently, the blond had just woken up, but he was not in a bad mood. He even smiled when Dion promised him coffee.

"So, to what special occasion do I owe the honor?" Andreas asked while blowing away the steam rising from his cup.

"Andreas, you have been here for a while," Dion started. "I guess you know much more than me. Plus, you most probably hear people talk all the time."

Andreas nodded slowly.

"It's just that ... do you know anything about the people working down there, inside the mines?"

"Why are you asking?" Andreas demanded to know, frowning. His eyes began wandering about, taking in the small barracks. "Fuck!" he spat, as soon as he realized. "Is John there already? But he's not that old!"

"That is what he told me, too," Dion said, shaking his head. "The thing is ... can I trust you, Andreas?"

"I'm a fellow ex-servant and your boyfriend's ex. But ... I suppose that is not answering your question. Well, shoot, and let's see if I can help you with anything, Red."

Red? Dion could not remember ever being given a nickname that was not an insult. He felt a bit warm and ticklish inside.

"John comes home late. He never eats. At night, he is cold."

"I heard the mines are doing that to people. They are just too tired to get it up. I know, they're never my clients," Andreas said, as he grabbed the coffee cup tighter, looking to warm up his hands.

"Tiredness is one thing. Andreas, John is cold like in a block of ice. He doesn't move. He lays there ... like a corpse," Dion says with a small shiver.

Andreas stared into his cup, seemingly fighting with himself.

"There are ... rumors," he eventually whispered. "People say there is something evil, down there. That it's not just hard work that makes miners ... quickly perish."

Dion bit his bottom lip hard. This was not the right moment to start crying.

"Like what? What is this evil?"

"Rumor has it that the more people mine, the less human they become. It seems like they are gradually losing their souls. And it's like they move in this continuous line. The ones who are first are digging deeper and deeper, and suddenly, they disappear. Their strength is said to double, if not triple. At some point, they want nothing but to dig. The others do not follow them when they are in this frenzy. And suddenly, from where they dig, no sound comes anymore. Soon enough, others fall prey to this madness. It is said they die, but no one has ever seen a body coming out from there."

Dion buried his face into his palms.

"So no one ever came out from there?"

Andreas shook his head slowly, pity softening his features.

"I don't want to sound cynical, but I think it's time you say your goodbyes and start searching for another man."

"No," Dion shook his head. "There is got to be something I can do."

"Oh, honey," Andreas looked at him, his eyes filled with compassion. "What can we do? Whoever controls all these is more powerful than all the people living here combined. They run a well-oiled machine here and ..."

"Machines can break," Dion said stubbornly.

"What?" Andreas looked at Dion, shifting in his chair.

"I may be nothing but a recycled servant, but I know that machines are not made to last forever. Back in Drena, we had to replace appliances all the time."

"Dion, dear, whatever happens in that pretty head of yours, no. Just no," the blond repeated. "And it was just a figure of speech."

"A brilliant figure of speech," Dion smiled at his guest. "Nothing can run this smoothly without hiccups. I work in a factory now, I know more about how things work. And also, there was someone I met when I was still in Drena. Someone who was different than anyone else, although he had gone through the same training as we all had. He was solid proof that no system is flawless."

Andreas was looking at him wide-eyed, speechless.

"What?" Dion blushed.

"I had no idea you were so smart, Red," Andreas whispered in awe. "And who is this mysterious someone? Was he your lover? Who was he?"

"Just a servant, like you and I."

"Cool!" Andreas's eyes lit up. "But wait, what's that got to do with anything? I mean, the mines are down here, your friend is up there in Drena..."

"Hear me out on this. I'll let you in all the gossip from the old days another time, and I'll tell you more about my friend. But, for now, I need to ask you: is there a way to get inside the mines? I mean, if you are not admitted there."

Andreas pursed his lips while pondering.

"No one gets close to that disgusting place, on their own accord, I can tell you that. So it may not be that hard. But I suppose that there are people at the gates, monitoring the personnel. They have to be distracted somehow."

Dion fell silent.

"I know it!" Andreas exclaimed, clasping his hands. "If you want to get inside, Red, and have some wingman to distract the guards ... well, you're staring at him."

"You?! But Andreas, this could be dangerous! I mean ..."

"Shut up, honey. You lure me here with coffee, talking about all kinds of crazy stuff and you expect me to sit on the sidelines, without helping? No way!" Andreas flicked his beautiful hair over one shoulder.

"But you have no obligation to help me!" Dion almost shouted.

"Eh, no obligation indeed. But I do want to be of some use, you know. All my life I thought all that glitters is gold. And now, between you and me, sweetie, I ... feel kind of like I've done nothing but wasted my life. Just let me be myself for once, not someone everyone expects me to be. I choose this," Andreas said with pride, squaring his shoulders and looking Dion in the eyes. "Plus, I think I can get you past the guards like this," he snapped his long elegant fingers.

"Thank you, Andreas," Dion jumped from his chair and threw his arms around Andreas who embraced him in return. "How are you going to do it?" he asked, as he sat back in his chair.

Andreas slowly pushed a finger into his mouth, wetting it and letting it free with a playful pop. His eyes became sultry, and Dion knew precisely why Andreas was such a big success down at Venusville, despite no longer being the newest or the youngest.

"There are not many who can resist my blowjobs," the blond added with a smirk.

"Oh, Andreas," Dion whispered.

"Come on, Red, we all know blow jobs are the easiest. It's harder to take it up the ass constantly, especially from different dicks. But blow jobs? You go down on a guy, and you can think of anything else, while polishing that rod, like you would the silverware. Don't tell me you've never done it like this," Andreas winked at him.

Dion chose to blush instead.

"What? Hadn't you sucked a lot of dick before coming here? Wow, nice going, Red!" Andreas stared at him in disbelief.

Dion shook his head.

"I did ... suck a lot of dick. Only that I haven't thought of doing what you just said. Although I must admit, it was a lot easier than ... the other thing."

"So what does John like best now?" Andreas whispered while leaning over the table. "With me, he was more about blow jobs. I was always skittish when it came to my back door."

"Well ..." Dion blushed a deeper shade of red, "he ... likes fucking me more."

"Oh, really?" Andreas giggled. "And yet, you don't have a limp or anything. You should show me some of your ... stretching exercises."

"Cut it out, Andreas," Dion covered his face.

"Come on; we did it together, how can you still blush? That threesome was damn hot, you know?" Andreas laughed at him. "Now, on to more serious things, like when I am going to blow some mine guards."

"Oh, as soon as possible," Dion said quickly, glad to escape Andreas's nonchalant poking into his sexual life. "Let's run some recon first and see what we are up against."

"Ok. Ah, I just remembered something," Andreas replied with a thoughtful look on his face. "Rumors about the mines also mentioned something about the food there being ... disgusting or something. Not that it matters, I suppose," Andreas shrugged.

Dion stared at his new friend, pondering.

"I cannot remember last time John ever had a meal at home. Not even in the morning. If the food is so disgusting, how come he prefers it to my cooking?"

"Maybe you suck as a cook," Andreas laughed, earning an affronted stare from Dion.

"No way. I make a killer ... everything, from the first to the last course. And he used to complain I was going to make him fat. There is something here. I don't know what it is. But damn, I will find out."

"Let me know when you are prepared."

"Is tomorrow too soon?" Dion asked hopefully.

"Sure thing, it's not like there is anything to keep me," Andreas shrugged. "Let's go after you're done with your shift. There are a few good hours during which you can roam the mines once inside. But, before that, we will have to do something about your pretty face."

"Like what?" Dion demanded to know.

"Like making sure that no one takes a look at you and knows you don't really belong there. Ex-servants end up there anyway," Andreas began thinking, "but not as young as you. Not that I know a lot of such things. Find some soot or something, so we can make you ugly. Once inside, you will be on your own, and I won't be able to help you, so we need to prepare."

"All right, Andreas. Thanks a lot," Dion stood up and held Andreas tight, as the blond was already on his feet, ready to leave.

Andreas embraced him back.

"Hey, anything for a friend," the blond patted the red strands.

"I'm glad we're friends," Dion spoke, and Andreas just laughed, a bit embarrassed.

~A Good Servant~

It was the middle of the night when Xavier woke up with an unfamiliar jolt. Next to him, Ayn was sleeping soundly, his chest rising and falling with each steady breath. He looked at his lover's profile, barely visible in the moonlight filtered through the metallic shades masking the world out there. Haven was terribly silent at night when there were no people organizing night rides or the occasional party.

Xavier got up from the bed slowly, making sure not to disturb Ayn. Outside, the fading sounds of wind swirling over the desert were making the silence deeper, unworldly. He sighed and then he raised his hand and watched the bracelet. It was pulsing, ever so slightly, that even he, with his keen senses, could barely feel it.

His other hand enclosed over the bracelet, in a futile effort to break through the solid metal, to turn the object into dust, dust that he could scatter over the dunes and forget about it forever. But instead, the bracelet continued to pulse, sending an unpleasant jolt through his arm, mocking him.

He took a look at the sleeping man on the bed. The need to touch was so high, it hurt him physically. One step towards the bed was soon followed by several towards the door. His hand on the knob, he hesitated.

"Hey, what are you doing, Xav?" Ayn called sleepily from the bed.

Xavier's lips twitch, unfamiliar with cursing, but wishing he knew some proper words to express it.

"I need a bit of fresh air. I'll be back shortly," he promised, hoping his schooled voice could hide the emotions swirling inside him.

"Ok," Ayn just rolled on his stomach and fell asleep right away.

Minutes later, Haven was quickly disappearing behind him. A strange sound, something between a small cry and a whimper left his lips as he sat behind the wheel of Marcus's van. He had no idea what that was and that he could do that. Or where he was heading.

TBC

Author's note:

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