Date: Thu, 12 Jan 2023 17:58:43 +0000
From: J. Forrester <niftyencomiums@gmail.com>
Subject: The Spy Who Lubed Me (part two)

This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, places and
events is unintentional.

ANTHOLOGY

You are travelling into an alternate dimension. Do not adjust your
connection to reality. Here we find a universe of infinitive possibilities,
of extraordinary powers and incredible circumstances. Welcome to the
Anthology...


Anthology (VI) – The Spy Who Lubed Me (part two)

Max is Agent 117. He was tasked with stealing computer files from a
billionaire named Ernest Sukerfeel – mission accomplished. More or
less. To access the files, he needed to steal a decoder from a powerful
political enemy named Jethro Renton-Mass – mission accomplished. More or
less. Now Max finds himself entangled with a man who can shapeshift, a
billionaire with a nefarious agenda and a politician who could make things
hard – and not in the good way.


THE MAX ULTIMATUM

"I need to sit down for a minute, do you mind?" Max said.

He didn't wait for an answer. It was his house that Rider, no Cyrus, had
broken into so he was going to sit. Max needed a moment to figure out what
was going on.

A few days ago, weeks of work had culminated in the theft of a large about
of data from a billionaire called Ernest Sukerfeel. His subversive plans
had caused enough concern to justify a Secret Service mission. The data was
encrypted and to unlock it, Max had stolen a decoder from a powerful
political advisor named Jethro Renton-Mass...

Political Advisor – aka an unelected political influence with access to
sensitive government files and information. Who the fuck is that guy? Mr
Renton-Mass? Max didn't trust him but there was more. Something Max didn't
know but he could feel it. And now his chief of security was here. Except
he wasn't.

Max had known the real Captain Rider Topsman a long time ago.

This man was not Rider but the name Cyrus rang a bell from his briefings
about the Denego Potentia Department. The DPD is an independent,
subcontracted agency of enhanced and gifted people. Max worked with them
sometimes – he liked Angelo and Matt. Max's parents were like them too
– xenogeny – people whose powers were not genetic but determined by
chance. Max had read some pretty concerning reports about eugenic efforts
to breed people with powers – thankfully the efforts failed or there
would be armies of superpowered men out there.

"You're... you're one of them," Max had realised when Rider, no Cyrus, had
changed his face and his body to look like him.

A nu-man.

Matt's husband... separated.

Max had known Matthew Tempest a long time ago. The first man he'd ever
loved and now he was in the same room as Matt's husband – the man Matt
had started a family with. A family that had ended when their son died.

"Where is the real Rider Topsman?" Max asked.

"Redeployed," Cyrus said ambiguously. "Obviously if I was going to take his
place, he had to be removed. So, we removed him."

Max watched the man's face – his face. Cyrus sounded like him too.





"Who is we?" Max enquired.

"I had help. Angelo introduced me to someone who could help," Cyrus was
hesitant to say more until he was certain he could trust Max.

Max recognised the compartmentalisation but he needed to know more.

"It's so weird, you even sound like me," Max muttered.

"Neuroplasticity. When I change my body, my brain is slightly reconfigured
too," Cyrus said with Max's face and in Max's voice.

"Can you stop doing that?" Max asked irritably.

"What?" Cyrus replied in confusion.

"Stop looking like me, please," Max said.

"Oh, that. Sure," Cyrus replied.

As Cyrus changed, Max counted the seconds. The face, hands and body bloated
and then deflated to resemble Rider Topsman again. Seven seconds. That was
how long it took Cyrus to change his appearance.

"You didn't really answer me. Where is Rider?" Max asked.

"I know Denego Potentia asked you to investigate Jethro Renton-Mass but
your hierarchy told you to stop. They also asked me to infiltrate. To do
that, I observed Rider for a few weeks, interviewed him a few times and
learned his history. I was surprised to notice you served together," Cyrus
explained.

Cyrus was not ready to admit that his interviews had been facilitated with
the help of a mind-controller to learn great details about Rider Topsman.

"Have we met before?" Max asked.

As Max or Rider, Cyrus was acting more himself. It was very strange but his
character seemed familiar. If Cyrus was in the DPD or another Secret
Service division, they may have crossed paths. It was hard to tell with a
man who could change his face.

"We've worked together on a few missions. You remember Holesy Shagmeass?"
Cyrus asked.

"Who could forget? You were Agent 169," Max recalled. "Sorry, please
continue."

Max's numerical designation was Agent 117.

"After I knew everything I needed to impersonate Rider, we removed him,"
Cyrus said matter-of-factly. "He's in London now. He thinks he's a
barista."





Max leaned back in his chair. Cyrus was still standing – not pacing but
he couldn't stay still either. The springy, prancing gait of Rider was
replaced with a heavier, more careful bearing. Max had continued to
contemplate Cyrus's use of the word "we" and compared it to what he knew
the nu-men that the Glasstower had on record...

"Jeffrey Yates or Timothy Kotes?" Max said. "They're mind controllers,
that's how you interrogated Rider and removed him, isn't it? Why didn't you
just kill him?"

"Because I'm not a murderer," Cyrus lied – the truth was they needed
Rider in case there was other details to be clarified.

Max shrugged – he wasn't going to get into an argument about it but if
Cyrus was both a veteran and an intelligence operative, there must have
been times when he had killed people. Was really a difference between
killing and murder?

"But you're right, Jeffrey joined the team after meeting Timmy. That boy is
incredibly dangerous..." Cyrus commented.

Max was about to ask the same question as he had of Rider: why didn't you
just kill him? But Max also knew about the dangerous and malevolent boy and
he hadn't removed the threat. Perhaps you can't just go around killing
people?

"Jeffrey has been feeding back information for a while but Mr Renton-Mass
is very guarded with his secrets. He doesn't hide his ambition to
manipulate political stability but there was more and Jeffrey couldn't get
to the bottom of it," Cyrus said.

There was something in the way Cyrus said Jeffrey's name that made him
think their relationship was more than just professional.

"You guys thought infiltrating as his trusted henchman might get you closer
to him? Did it work?" Max asked.

"No," Cyrus replied.

"Bummer," Max commented.

"Angelo said it was important we learn Jethro Renton-Mass's secret and that
we share it with the team. I always got the feeling Angelo knew more about
him than he was willing to say," Cyrus said.

Cyrus didn't like to admit it but he felt like his five months on JRM's
inner circle had been a waste of time. Except for the relationship he'd
formed with Jeffrey – that meant something to him. Still, Cyrus was very
unhappy with his mission ending because some idiot came blundering in.





"Max, why the fuck did you break into Mr Renton-Mass's vault?" Cyrus asked.

Cyrus – Rider – had reported the break-in to his boss immediately and
JRM had immediately fired him. It was hard to be sure if Mr Renton-Mass was
furious even when face to face. He was a calm and emotionally elusive man
who was guarded and secretive.

"Yea... I should probably apologise for getting you fired," Max said.

He then proceeded to not actually apologise. Asshole.

"I was working a separate mission. The Glasstower has been monitoring a man
named Ernest Sukerfeel," Max reported.

It was only fair he share intelligence after Cyrus had been so open about
his mission.

"Sukerfeel is a madman but a genius. JRM had files on him," Cyrus said. "I
could check the exact details but... oh wait, you got me fired!"

"Yea, alright," Max snapped. "We're not sure what he's up to exactly which
is why I broke into his Edinburgh office and stole data from his
cybersecurity hub."

"You steal stuff a lot?" Cyrus teased.

"I also break traffic laws," Max boasted. "The files were encrypted and I
needed a decoder..."

"And Mr Renton-Mass had the decoder?" Cyrus inferred.

"Bingo. I've already delivered it back to my handler," Max added.

"Kash Spendpence. Is he still in the base in Daer Park?" Cyrus asked.

Max wondered how other faces Cyrus had. Cyrus (Agent 169) said they had
worked together on the Shagmeass mission – what had his name been then?
Brent Over? Max (Agent 117) insisted on ridiculous names too. Brent had
been average height but the physique of a body builder; red hair and
freckles and green eyes. How was Cyrus able to change his skin colour,
height, hair, eyes – everything. Cyrus could be anyone.

"As much as I appreciate late night visits from handsome men..." Max said
– ignoring Cyrus's question and standing up. "Why are you here?"

"Because you fucked up my mission," Cyrus replied testily. "I thought we
could give each other a hand?"

"Now you're talking," Max said.

Max stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Cyrus, touching their lips
together in a passionate and prolonged kiss. Cyrus's hands landed just
under Max's armpits but he didn't push Max away. Max slid his hands from
the top of Cyrus's back to his ass, groping the firm cheeks.

Max liked men and he liked having sex. Sex was for pleasure and for
manipulation (and sometimes for love, if you could find the right person)
– this was a bit of both.





As Max started to kiss Cyrus's neck, Cyrus found himself thinking of
Jeffrey – a man who he had been in a relationship with for five
months. They had shared the burden of working for an awful man, and doing
questionable things, in the hope of finding out what his real goals
were. Max was... a surprisingly desirable man – almost irresistible.

Cyrus also had to remind himself that he was married. But separated.

Cyrus wanted to have sex with this magnificent man. He imagined a colossal
cock and beautiful butt cheeks; he imagined Max on his knees with his lips
wrapped around his bloated boner. Cyrus pressed against those desires for
the sexy man and then he pushed Max away. Max just smirked with
satisfaction.

"You help me, I help you... was that what you meant?" Max asked.

"Yes," Cyrus replied – surprisingly breathless after the lustful moment.

"It'll take time to decrypt the files with the decoder I stole from
JRM. Kash will let me know when it's done..." Max said. "I think Mr
Sukerfeel is a dangerous man, I have to stop him. And you have to help me."

"Sounds like an ultimatum," Cyrus commented neutrally.

"We should get some rest while we can," Max said seductively. "Come to bed
with me?"

Max was flirting with him, Cyrus knew. On the other hand, if things moved
quickly he wouldn't have much time to rest for a while. Cyrus looked out
the window and could see the horizon already getting brighter. It was
nearly 5AM but it was also only weeks until the longest day of the
year. Cyrus hated the longest day – it couldn't be more aptly described
– because it was the day his son had died.

"Come on," Max said and he led Cyrus to the bedroom.

Cyrus watched as Max undressed – the muscular black man removed his
jacket and shirt – his broad back had a few faint scars. Max pretended
not to notice he was being watched as he kicked his shoes off and unbuckled
his trousers; Max pushed them down along with his underwear and hopped out
of them. Naked, but with his back to Cyrus, Max walked into the ensuite
bathroom.

Cyrus sat on the edge of the bed and removed his shoes and socks. Max had
invited Cyrus to bed and he was sure Max had sex in mind but he suspected
this was often so. Cyrus didn't want to have sex with Max but he still
found himself allured to the idea of sharing his bed.





Cyrus removed his own clothing until he was only wearing boxers. He slid
back on the bed and climbed under the covers, feeling very tired. When Max
emerged, he was still naked. Max had a board and muscular chest, with
scratches of hair across it. His arms and legs were impressive and his
penis was four inches flaccid. The black hair above it was short –
manicured that way by vanity. Max smiled cockily as he walked to the edge
of the bed and pulled the covers back.

Cyrus, or Rider since he was still using that appearance, had a physique
somewhere between athletic and bodybuilder. Cyrus let Max check him out but
reminded himself he was still technically married and he was in an intimate
relationship with Jeffrey.

"You look good," Max said.

"So do you," Cyrus confessed.

Max crawled over to Cyrus, climbing on top of him to straddle the man's
stomach. He leaned over and kissed Cyrus again. Cyrus closed his eyes,
feeling wet lips on his and the sensation of floppy dick on his chest as
Max leaned over.

"I thought you suggested rest?" Cyrus said.

Resisting Max was surprisingly difficult but his expression was that of a
man who was not used to being told no. It pleased Cyrus to resist Max's
charms.

"So I did," Max replied and he reluctantly climbed off.

Max settled himself beside Cyrus in bed and, as if nothing had happened,
they fell asleep.

Sleep ended six hours later with a voice in Max's ear.

"Are you awake?" Kash said.

Max opened his eyes. He was lying on his side and turned over to see Cyrus
wasn't there but he could hear someone in his kitchen.

"Max?" Kash said.

Max had inner ear implants after nearly being deafened by an IED. He still
had scars on his back from shrapnel during the same explosion. The implants
not only made his hearing better than it had been before but they were also
an advanced wireless computer interface and next generation communication
devices. Max touched his thumb and forefinger together.

"Yes, I'm awake. What's the problem?" Max asked.

"Problems. We have more than one," Kash said and he sounded harried.

"Yes, I've got one in my kitchen too," Max said.

"What?" Kash asked.

"You first. You decoded the Sukerfeel database?" Max asked.

"Yea. Most of it. I'm still sorting through it. The guy is a madman," Kash
asserted. "Also, the office boy you seduced? The innocent guy you used to
gain access to the database? He's missing."





BLONDERBALLS

Ernest Sukerfeel was wearing black swimming trunks and an open white
robe. He liked the feel of swimming trunks; they hugged his narrow waist
and thin legs and the made his flaccid penis look good. For all that was
worth. His balls filled the seat of the trunks too.

The open robe revealed a physique that was too thin to be muscular but he
was wiry. His chest was tight and he had a little hair between his nipples
that fluttered down to his navel. For a man in his fifties, he looked good
– he was a strong swimmer and an endurance runner but he'd never had the
kind of admirable physique that made it onto the cover of magazines.

His legs and arms were long and thin but toned. The sleeves of the robe
were baggy so they billowed against his arms and the robe itself remained
open at the front, showing off his body. Mr Sukerfeel's hair and skin had
still been wet as he put the robe so the linen clung to his arms and seeped
through so his skin appeared pinkly through the white fabric.

Ernest Sukerfeel approached a young man who was tied down to an X-shaped
table. The boy was very sweet – perhaps twenty years old and too young
for the billionaire. He appreciated the young man's beauty but resented it
too. As well as being tied down, the boy was totally naked. His arms
stretched above his head to expose his armpits and his legs spread just
wide enough to expose his perineum. The flaccid penis was short and
shrivelled; an embarrassingly small two inches with short pubes above it
that only served to emphasise the pathetic specimen.

"Are you hungry, Joey?" Ernest asked.

"Please let me go," Joey pleaded.

Joey was scared. He shouldn't have shown Yuri Tiedup into Mr Sukerfeel's
building but the sexy man had been irresistible and he seemed to have
access to SkyCall Telecommunications already. Joey hadn't seen the harm in
going into the building for an illicit tryst.

It was only after getting naked and having sex in the office and getting
tied up that the boy realised he had been used. Yuri had stolen Joey's ID
card to access the secure floor and then...

Well, Joey didn't really know what happened. Yuri returned a while later,
made him cum and jumped out the window. He'd told Mr Sukerfeel all of
this. Several times. It wasn't his fault. He didn't know who Yuri was. Joey
didn't know that there was no Yuri Tiedup who worked at SkyCall. Who Yuri
really was? Why did he break in? What did he want?

That was a few days ago now and Joey had spent most of that time
naked. Actually, Joey had spent all of that time naked. He was still naked
now and tied spread-eagled to a table on the twenty-something floor of the
SkyCall Telecoms building where Mr Sukerfeel had a pool apparently.





After Yuri had jumped out the building, security had found him. Joey had
expected to be untied but apparently Mr Sukerfeel had ordered him to be
kept as he was. Joey was humiliated as the guards took turns to come and
see him and laugh at his nudity, his exposure and his cum-covered body.

Mr Sukerfeel arrived in the small hours too – he walked into the office
where Joey was tied up, approached the young man, looked him up and down
and then tuned around.

"We'll talk later," Mr Sukerfeel said.

Mr Sukerfeel had desperately wanted to taste the young man's ejaculate. The
cold blobs of creamy goo had gone stagnant, running off his body and onto
the desk or pooling on his perfect skin and slowly drying out into crustier
remnants.

Ernest Sukerfeel ordered the guards to remain on watch but not to untie
Joey.

"What? What do you mean don't untie me? Mr Sukerfeel? Sir? Mr Sukerfeel?"
Joey pleaded even as the lift departed, carrying his boss away from the
desperate pleas.

Joey was left tied up so when his co-workers arrived they all had a good
look too at his twinky, cum splattered body. Joey's bare feet and bound
arms and legs meant there was no part of him that was not exposed to his
peers. His penis had gone soft and shrunk, nestling inside the foreskin and
lying limply to the left.

Joey's co-workers arrived, sometimes one by one and other times in small
groups. They were shocked but the guards on duty made it clear Joey was
meant to be there like that. So Joey's co-workers drank in the sight of the
nude and exposed young man. They laughed and pointed, muttered comments and
sniggered but no-one untied him. Joey stopped trying to struggle because
the bond were cutting into his legs and wrists but the boy was mortified.

He didn't want everyone in the office seeing his willy. He didn't want them
to think he was only two and a half inches but getting an erection would
have been worse. Beneath the derision of his co-workers, there was
fear. They weren't allowed to untie him; no-one took pictures but everyone
knew that Mr Sukerfeel has seen to it Joey was publicly humiliated.

Joey's mortification ended when he was untied and marched out of the
office, bare foot and bare naked. He was not permitted to cover his penis
or his arse. Several of his co-workers took the opportunity to check out
Joey's little butt and it was fucking beautiful.

After leaving the office where he worked and where his colleagues had seen
him exhibited, Joey was transported to Mr Sukerfeel's penthouse. A personal
office, a cybersecurity hub, a conference room and more were found in the
penthouse. Joey was shown into a room with a private lift, bed, seating
area and pool. A pool high in the sky? Billionaires are wild!





Joey remained naked but he had been allowed to wash. He was joined
intermittently by Mr Sukerfeel who asked him questions and pulled apart the
answers. More recently, Joey had found himself tied down, spread eagled
again, exposed and vulnerable, cold and scared.

"You haven't eaten," Mr Sukerfeel said softly.

Mr Sukerfeel was not a particularly soft man... well, actually, he was a
soft man. That was part of his problem. A lack of hardness was very much a
part of his problem.

"I've told you everything I know," Joey pleaded.

Mr Sukerfeel reached forward and fondled Joey's balls. His fair skin and
blondeness made his blonde balls feel silky and warm. The eggs inside the
soft sac were delightful. At first, the boy tried to pull away but there
was nowhere to go – he couldn't move.

Joey checked out the rather sexy older man who was openly groping him,
stroking his skin and caressing his testicles. The young man started to get
hard, his penis became plump and firm, pushing the foreskin open as it
grew. The once pathetic slug of boyish limpness expanded until it was six
inches long and very hard. Mr Sukerfeel moved his hand from Joey's balls to
the hard-on which he petted like a cat.

He liked stroking dick like this. He missed the feel of a warm and hard
penis.

"He said you wouldn't believe me," Joey said miserably.

Mr Sukerfeel looked at Joey in askance.

"Yuri. I really don't know anything else about him. He said you wouldn't
believe me," Joey said miserably.

"I do believe you, boy," Mr Sukerfeel replied reassuringly.

"Then let me go. My family will be missing me. I want to go home," Joey
pleaded.

"Not yet. Not for a while," Mr Sukerfeel replied unsympathetically.

Ernest Sukerfeel stood up and paced away. Joey couldn't help but notice the
man had nice legs – thin with nicely curved calves.

"When?" Joey asked.

"That depends on Yuri," Mr Sukerfeel said.

He said the name "Yuri" with great disdain and scepticism. The kind of
people with the skills and resources to steal from him didn't have just one
name. Ernest Sukerfeel was confident it was a government agent which was
why he was confident he wouldn't need to do anything at all.

The billionaire turned back to Joey and smiled at the naked and hard boy
with his sweet face, bare feet and delicious dick. He really would love to
fuck the boy but he couldn't.

"I'm waiting for him..." Mr Sukerfeel said. "To come to your rescue."





MISSION IMPERFECT

"Max, can we speak for a moment?" Kash said ever so politely.

The problem with a Glaswegian speaking politely is that it sounds like
they're going to stave your head in. Shouting and swearing are a friendly
and companionable form of communication but politeness? Max really was in
trouble.

"Oh god, I'm in trouble," Max said and he turned to Cyrus. "When he speaks
courteously, I always think he's going to square go."

Kash was not amused and Cyrus just smiled out of politeness. Max and Cyrus
dressed and ate breakfast before reporting to the Bunker to find out what
Kash had discovered from the Sukerfeel data.

"Why is it called the bunker anyway?" Cyrus had asked as the lift took them
down.

"Because it's a bunker," Max had replied.

Kash walked away and Max followed. Whether Cyrus was out of ear shot was
really irrelevant, Kash turned angrily on Max, who braced himself.

"What the fuck, Max?" Kash asked. "You brought that man down here without
asking me? Without telling me?"

In fairness "that man" looked like Rider Topsman.

"This is a massive security breach," Kash insisted. "I'm going to need to
tell the Glasstower and if they fill my fucking bunker with concrete I'm
going to make sure you're still inside when they do."

"Kash," Max said gently.

Kash was surprised – he had expected a heated exchange or for a hasty
explanation. Instead, Max was calm, collected and patient. Chilled out
even. It made Kash want to slap the guy. Max looked at Kash's cute face,
his brown skin and black hair that toppled over his ears and the way his
gorgeous eyes were emphasised by black-framed glasses.

"There were things I didn't want to explain over a comms line," Max
continued. "Rider isn't what he seems. For one thing, that guy... he's not
actually Rider."

"He looks like Rider Topsman and he sounds like Rider Topsman," Kash
replied. "You served with over a decade ago, right?"

Kash's knowledge of Max's service history was painfully detailed.





"Yes and no. Look..." Max said patiently. "Do you remember Agent 169?"

Kash was momentarily thrown by the question.

"Brent Over?" Kash said.

"That's was him," Max said and pointed at Rider.

"Yea, apart from the height, build hair colour, and the age, eye colour and
the ethnic differences..." Kash said.

Max didn't admonish the sarcasm this time. In fact, he realised he'd been
wasting time trying to explain when there was a much easier way. Kash had
detailed files about everything.

"Do you know who a man called Cyrus Hyatt is?" Max asked.

Kash didn't have a good poker face – the penny dropped immediately. He
pushed past Max and approached Cyrus (Rider) almost excitedly.

"Squadron Leader, it's good to meet you... face to face," Kash joked as
they shook hands.

"I don't really go by my rank any more than Max does," Cyrus replied.

Kash knew that that Squ Ldr Cyrus Hyatt had been a respected and
well-regarded officer in the Air Force Special Investigations Branch before
taking on a more specialised counter-intelligence role. He had met Matt
while they were both in the Armed Forces; they had married, adopted a son
and separated after his death. As much as Kash respected his peers from
other intelligence organisations, he was weary of trusting them too
easily. Different groups had different strategies and priorities and Kash
didn't know if he could trust the priorities of Denego Potentia or whoever
Cyrus was working for.

"You'd prefer Mr Tempest?" Kash asked provocatively.

"We're separated," Cyrus insisted.

Kash hid a smile – that was what Matt always said too. Kash knew that
Cyrus – or whatever his names was (a problem he shared with Max who had
multiple identities as well) – had worked with Max on several occasions,
always wearing a different appearance. For a spy, a new name and a new face
must be an impressive tactical advantage.

"So why are you here, Cyrus?" Kash asked – conceding the issue of his
name.





"Because you guys took a decoder from Mr Renton-Mass to unlock the files
you stole from SkyCall Telecommunications. Rider was fired because of the
security breach," Cyrus summarised.

"Bummer," Kash said as he took a seat in front of his computer.

"You'll be lucky if he doesn't use the Risico militia to come after the
decoder," Cyrus warned.

That was a rather concerning possibility that Max hoped did not become
reality. JRM's access to a small army only emphasised the danger he posed.

"We have come to an agreement that if he helps me stop Ernest Sukerfell,
I'll help him with JRM," Max said.

Kash turned in his chair and looked unhappily at Max. He knew that Max
hated Jethro Renton-Mass but he was a politically powerful adversary.

"Once your mission is complete, Cyrus could return the decoder," Kash
suggested. "But first, we need to stop Ernest Sukerfeel."

Cyrus was impressed with Kash. He looked like a nerdy brown man who lived
in a basement but... actually, that was a good description. Kash was
peering at the screen through his glasses and skimming through the
documents.

"What do his classified files say?" Max asked.

"They don't say anything, you have to read them," Kash said
pedantically. "First, the young man you used to access the penthouse
office, Joey Havecock, has been reported missing..."

"The young man you used?" Cyrus repeated. "Do you seduce every man you
meet?"

"Not all of them," Max replied ambiguously.

"Joey has been reported missing by his parents. He didn't come home and
hasn't been seen for a few days now. I've been scrutinising CCTV and I'm
pretty sure he hasn't even left the building," Kash ploughed on. "We need
to decide if we're going to extract him or not?"

The young man was an innocent casualty but was he worth the risk of
rescuing?

"What is Ernest Sukerfeel actually up to?" Cyrus asked.

"He became a person of interest and concern because of SkyCall
Telecommunications. It looked like he has been developing some next
next-generation technology," Kash explained. "The files we stole reveals
what he's developing technology for."

"Don't keep us in suspense," Max prompted.

"He describes the technology as 8G and it would be capable of transmissions
that could interfere with bioelectrical functions. Technology that could
reprogramme human cells," Kash said.

"Wi-fi that controls people? Don't be daft," Max replied.

"No, Max," Kash said.

"What is he developing this tech for?" Cyrus asked.

"Because he's impotent," Kash replied.

"Sorry, what?" Max asked.

"It's in his file and reading between the lines, misery loves company,"
Kash told them. "He's also got some ideas about overpopulation."

Well, he's not wrong there, Max thought.

"Ernest Sukerfeel is, I have to admit, a very clever man. It looks like
he's developed a transmission mast that would broadcast signals to make
people impotent," Kash said.

"Sound far-fetched," Cyrus grumbled.

"The hinderferon transmitter apparently implants neuropeptide instructions
that inhibit sexual desire, sexual ability and sexual satisfaction," Kash
paraphrased from the screen.

Kash knew Max and Cyrus would want to study the details themselves. The
gist was that hinderferons are a group of signalling proteins involved in
brain chemistry related to sex and arousal. Manipulating hinderferons could
theoretically render individuals, groups or large populations sexually
inert.

"Sounds far-fetched," Cyrus repeated himself.

"Why doesn't he just use the technology to make himself not-impotent?" Max
suggested.

"I don't fucking know. Why don't you go ask him," Kash grumbled. "More
importantly, the Glasstower are ordering you to destroy the hinderferon
transmitter before it can go online."

"Great. Where is it?" Max enquired.

"Eh, well... that's tricky..." Kash hesitated.

"You don't know?" Max asked flatly.

"I have been up all fucking night, Max. Decoding the files, reporting back
to head office and waiting for you to return to the bunker. Not to mention
this very annoying conversation," Kash shot back.

"Not to mention discovering an office boy has been kidnapped," Cyrus added.

"Exactly," Kash agreed.

"You need more time to find it?" Max asked.

"Yes," Kash replied. "And the location may not be in these files. We might
need to get back into Sukerfeel's computers to find it."

"Cool. You keep looking," Max said. "I'm going to go rescue Joey Havecock."





"Max, wait a sec," Kash shouted as he followed Max out of the room. "I
agree we should save him but we should agree a plan. I know you have total
contempt for authority..."

"I don't mind you being authoritative," Max flirted.

"But I don't have that luxury," Kash continued seriously. "I need to be
able to justify your actions."

Max had led Kash to his bedroom where he pulled Kash into an intimate
embrace. Max had a reputation for flirtation and seduction but he enjoyed
seducing Kash the most. It wasn't just about sex with Kash, there was
something more.

"It's an imperfect mission plan, I admit it," Max said – kissing Kash
behind his ear where he liked it.

"You can't just distract me with sex, you know," Kash asserted.

"Past evidence to the contrary," Max joked in response.

Max proceeded to pull Kash towards the bed where he sat while Kash
stood. Kash's cock at face level so Max pushed his face into Kash's groin
and smothered his face in the front of the man's trousers. Max could feel
the roll of flesh that was Kash's penis and the decent bulk that was his
balls. Max pressed the genitalia with his nose and mouth, his lips pawing
impotently on the dick that was swaddled in fabric.

Max reached up and pulled down the zip of the trousers, unbuttoned them and
then opened them to reveal Kash's prick which Max pulled it out. Max pushed
his face back into Kash's groin which was now naked. There was a
substantial growth of hair and a substantially growing penis.

"Max, do we have time for this?" Kash asked.

Kash was already playing with Max's ears and caressing his neck.

"Always," Max promised.

Max's hands pushed the trousers from mid-thigh to below Kash's knees and
then took the half-hard dick in his mouth and sucked. His lips kissed and
pulled on the pliable tumescence which got harder in Max's mouth, soon
filling it with cock. Max fondled Kash's balls with one hand and the man
put his hands on Max's head. With his other hand, Max stroked Kash's shaft
while sucking on the head. As Max worked on the dick, he pulled it in and
out of his mouth with relish.

Kash wept precum into Max's mouth which the spy swallowed greedily. Max
loved men, dick, ass, lips – everything about them. He loved Kash.

Max's hand grabbed Kash's fleshy ass cheeks while he deepthroated the
cock. Max's nose was tickled by pubes, his lips were spread wide and his
chin could feel the sporadic hairs from Kash's balls. Kash could feel his
orgasm building and he watched Max close his eyes as he readied himself for
the deposit in his mouth.





"I'm going to cum, Max," Kash said.

Max patted Kash's ass in acknowledgment. Their relationship was intimate
and intense, sometimes slow and sometimes quick but passionate. Sometimes
it was romantic. This was not one of those times. Kash's cum spurted into
Max's mouth, coating his tongue and tasting sweet.

Max pulled the erection out of his face and licked the shaft from balls to
head and root to cum slit. He cleaned Kash's cock of every trace of cum and
only then did Kash step back and put his moist cock away, pulling up his
underwear and trousers and closing them up. Kash straightened his shist and
his glasses to make himself presentable again.

"I enjoyed that, thank you," Max said. "It gave me all the energy I need
for this mission."

"Most people just drink Red Bull," Kash replied dryly.

They returned to the main computer room and found Cyrus loitering politely.

"Max, exactly how are you planning to rescue Joey Havecock?" Kash asked
– back to business.

Cyrus watched the pair of them, supressing a smile at the couple vibe they
were giving off. They made no comment or excuse to Cyrus – they had
walked out, had oral sex and returned as if they had just stepped out to
make a phone call or urinate.

"I still have Joey's ID, the one I used to access the Roundhouse... the
penthouse office with the cybersecurity hub," Max explained for Cyrus.

"You going to use his ID and just walk in there?" Cyrus asked.

"Of course not, I'm going to walk in there and you're going to use his ID,"
Max replied.

"You think if you walk in and tell them you're the guy who broke in, Mr
Sukerfeel will just invite you straight in?" Kash asked.

"Yea, pretty much. Getting in won't be the big problem. Getting out will be
the problem," Max anticipated.

"You need me to secure an exit route?" Cyrus inferred.

"Underground garage," Kash proposed and he went to work on his
computer. "Cyrus might also be better positioned to find out where the
hinderferon transmitter is being built."

"So I'm just the distraction?" Max said with a self-deprecating grin.

"Yea, try seducing the impotent guy," Kash laughed.

"I just might," Max replied.

"I hate to be awkward, but we're yet to agree how this is going to help
me," Cyrus complained. "Jethro Renton-Mass is still a person of interest to
the DPD and whatever he's up to is of great concern to Angelo and Matt."

Max said nothing for a moment because he knew that JRM was connected enough
to make things very difficult for him. Once the Sukerfeel mission was over,
Max would risk making many enemies if he pursued Mr Renton-Mass.

"I haven't forgotten," Max replied. "I have a plan."





LICENCE TO DRIVE

"Is Jethro Renton-Mass gifted?" Max asked.

Max and Cyrus were driving on the M72 headed to Edinburgh.

"He can play the piano and make a decent risotto," Cyrus remarked.

The question had come from nowhere but Max had clearly been thinking about
it and Cyrus offered a glib reply while he decided how to answer.

"The thing is, he was a political advisor to former-President Horace
Hump. Hump started his presidential campaign in the year 2000 and was
elected with Renton-Mass's help in 2002," Max thought out loud.

"So?" Cyrus responded guardedly.

"So, JRM was there from the beginning. He saw the writing on the wall and
got out after the Sean Mills incident," Max continued. "He came back to
Albion and here he is, unelected, advising another government."

"What's this got to do with him being gifted?" Cyrus asked.

"He hasn't aged a day," Max said grimly. "Maybe people don't notice..."

"You noticed," Cyrus disagreed.

"Yea. I noticed. I just figure the interest of the SEX Men..." Max started
to say.

"We really don't call ourselves that," Cyrus laughed.

"Nu-men? The Denego Potentia Department? The DPD, whatever interchangeable
name we use," Max corrected. "I hadn't seen Matt for years until he asked
me to look into JRM. I figure if Angelo and Matt are so interested, there
must be something enhanced about him? Or his plans will affect enhanced
people."

Could nu-men supress aging? Matt could control the weather and Cyrus could
shapeshift – there must be many different abilities in the world. Cyrus
didn't reply right away. He looked out the window at the motorway sighs and
glimpsed passengers in other cars who were all going about their business
as if there wasn't multiple threats to their lives at this very
moment. There would be no world without people like him and Max and Kash,
Matt and Angelo and so many others working to stop the unthinkable.

"He's an Angel," Cyrus said.





"I'm sorry?" Max responded sceptically.

"Angels are like... a group of humans, or almost humans, with very advanced
abilities. Usually multiple abilities. They inherit their abilities from
their parents. The SEX Men," Cyrus said sarcastically; "Are humans who do
not inherit abilities. The nu-man's literally cannot pass on
enhancements. There was something of a eugenics attempt at it which
failed."

Matt knew there had been numerous efforts to create superhuman communities
through breeding programmes. He was thankful abilities could not be
generated on controlled in that way.

"My parents were nu-men," Max confided. "My dad could create illusions and
my mum could manipulate water. They're gone now."

Gone? Dead? Or just gone? Cyrus didn't like to ask.

"I'm sorry," Cyrus replied.

"What can Jethro Renton-Mass do?" Max asked and he could sense Cyrus
hesitate. "If I'm going to help you, I'm going to get entangled in a way
the Glasstower is not going to approve of. It means disobeying them, maybe
losing my job, burning my bridges... what can he do?"

"I really don't know," Cyrus said. "Nothing obvious though anti-aging is a
possibility I suppose. He's not exactly charismatic but... I don't know how
to explain it."

Cyrus was always perturbed that someone as chaotic as Timmy was so
enamoured and loyal to JRM. He wondered if there was something more to
their relationship or to Mr Renton-Mass's powers. Yet Cyrus himself did not
feel compelled to obey JRM so it couldn't be mind control, could it?

"Angelo knows but he literally can't tell us... it's complicated as to why
not. Anyway, that's why me and Jeffrey are investigating him," Cyrus
continued and he ordered his thoughts about what he did know. "Mr
Renton-Mass's personality sometimes seems to shift sometimes. He's very
interested in nu-men but I assumed he was trying to recruit except the only
two gifted people in his inner circle are Jeffrey and Timmy."

Max overtook a car and a van and sped closer to Edinburgh, closer to the
SkyCall Telecommunications building and closer to a confrontation with
Ernest Sukerfeel. Max was an excellent driver with advanced licences in
tactical, defensive and evasive driving.

"But what's his plan? I don't like him because he's an unelected douchebag
with politically disruptive tendencies but what are we supposed to be
worried about?" Max probed.

"Not sure. I've never found even a hint that he's plotting to take over the
world or destroy a city or blow up an orphanage," Cyrus admitted. "It's not
like he's going to get some Kryptonite and he's going to kill Superman."





"Who's Superman?" Max asked.

"Dunno. It's something Angelo says. It's probably really funny in dimension
six-one-whatever," Cyrus replied.

Angelo's ability to traverse alternate realities made some of his
references oblique at best.

"Are you in love with him?" Max asked.

"With Angelo?" Cyrus asked.

"No," Max said flatly.

"Jethro?" Cyrus looked disgusted.

"With Jeffrey," Max said patiently. "Call it sexual intuition."

Max glanced at Cyrus who was still wearing Rider's appearance.

"You're slightly obsessed with sex men I think," Cyrus evasively joked and
Max laughed.

Cyrus was evading the questions – he was impressed that Max intuited his
relationship with Jeffrey considering he had never actually seen them
together.

"The way you say Jeffrey's name, it seems liked there's something there,"
Max commented. "Maybe I'm wrong, after all you're still
married... separated."

Max understood the need to move on. He had loved Matt a long time ago –
a very long time ago. There was nothing between them now but was the same
true of Matt and Cyrus?

"My son died. Our son," Cyrus replied after a short silence.

"I know..." Max said. "I'm so sorry."

"It's been nearly three years since Michael died. Matt and I have barely
spoken since. We tried, I tried..." Cyrus was melancholy about it. "When I
met Jeffrey, something happened."

"Sometimes you need to move on," Max suggested.

"Jeffrey and I knew from the beginning that we were working together
against Jethro Renton-Mass. We knew we might be found out too," Cyrus said
but his tone had changed and the melancholy was replaced with focus. "I
always warned him that if I was found out I'd put a watch on my right
wrist..."

Max looked over for a moment to see a tattoo-like representation of a watch
appear on Cyrus's wrist.

"...to tell him my time was up," Cyrus confided and the tattoo faded again.

"Earlier, you said Timmy was a dangerous boy. How dangerous?" Max probed.

The imminent mission to deal with Mr Sukerfeel was already organised so Max
was just filling the time with the details he'd need to help deal with
Jethro-Renton Mass.

"He's a mind controller who is significantly more powerful than Jeffrey. He
likes to make people see him as a younger boy than he really is," Cyrus
reported. "For short times, he can make people see him as someone else
entirely. He likes to make men have sex with him. He enjoys sexually
humiliating men. He's been keeping one man as a puppy for nearly 2
weeks. I've seen him order people to drown themselves or jump off
buildings..."

"Fuck," Max muttered.

"Which is ironic because Timmy hates heights himself. Scared to death of
them," Cyrus concluded

"So very? He's very dangerous," Max commented.

"He's also lazy, Jeffrey says," Cyrus offered. "It's his biggest
weakness. For someone sufficiently aware, Timmy's instructions are vague
enough to mitigate. Like if he asked you to shoot yourself, could shoot
your foot instead of your head."

"I like my feet," Max said facetiously.





"Timmy also relies on verbal instructions. He can push non-verbal mind
control but he likes to talk. Jeffrey thinks those instructions are
processed by auditory neurons via the cochlear ganglion..." Cyrus explained
but noticed an expression somewhere between confusion and disinterest on
Max's face. "If you're able to not hear him, it's harder for him to control
you."

"Sorry, can you repeat all that, I wasn't listening," Max deadpanned.

"Very funny," Cyrus said.

Edinburgh was getting nearer and Max moved onto smaller roads to navigate
closer to the SkyCall building on the east side of the city. The building
was located in a business park, most of them expensive multi-national
businesses that took up the space the size of a small town. The plan was
for Max to go meet Ernest Sukerfeel while Cyrus obtained a computer
interface for Kash and secured a vehicular escape route and
transportation. From the security office on the ground floor, Cyrus should
be able to locate Joey Havecock and one or both of them would get the young
man out. If anything went wrong, the car they were currently parking would
be a backup vehicle.

Twilight was upon the city as Max walked towards the main entrance of
Skycall Telecommunications. He was dressed in a blue suit with a white
shirt and blue tie. There was a gathering of security guards in the lobby
(is there a collective noun for security guards?) as they were changing
over to the nightshift. It was the perfect time for Cyrus to impersonate
and infiltrate using Joey's top-level access card.

Max walked past the custodes of guards and approached the desk, smiling at
the young man behind the desk.

"Hi, I'm here to see Ernest Sukerfeel?" Max said cordially.

"Do you have an appointment?" the young man asked.

"I do not," Max said.

"Mr Sukerfeel won't see you without an appointment," he replied.

"He might see me. Tell him I'm the man who stole his plans for a
hinderferon transmitter that will make anyone within its range as impotent
as he is," Max said.

The young man's eyes lifted. There was a lot of information there but the
key phrase was "the man who stole" so he lifted the phone and called the
Roundhouse – Mr Sukerfeel's penthouse office. Max looked around the
lobby, orientating himself to the location of the security doors and mind
mapping where the internal and external underground garage exits would be.

"Sorry, sir? What's your name?" the young man asked nervously.

"The name's Bound, Hans Bound," Max replied.





THE IMPOTENCE OF BEING ERNEST

The lift doors opened with Max flanked by two guards which was hilarious
– they needed way more guys for someone like Max (or Hans as he decided
to call himself). Max's eyes looked towards the office he had entered
several nights ago when he had originally stolen the files but he was led
in the opposite direction towards a pair of frosted glass double doors.

One of the guards swiped a security card and the doors opened inwards.

The space beyond was enormous (it took up nearly half of the twenty-fifth
floor) and primarily open-plan – straight ahead was a space with a
cross-shaped table, beside it there was a bucket of ice on a stand with
champagne cooling and beyond that, a swimming pool. To the right was a
sitting area that looked out over the city and on the left was a bedroom or
sorts with an emperor sized bed and a private lift.

"Mr Bound, is it?" asked a light and conversational voice.

Max looked at the man who was wearing loose shorts that showed off thin but
strong legs – nice thighs, calves and bare feet. He was also wearing a
white shirt, fastened at the waist but open to reveal his chest. The man
had dark eyes and tightly curled hair.

"Sometimes," Max replied.

Mr Sukerfeel smiled tightly, barely amused but polite.

"And you must be Mr Sukerfeel?" Max said.

"I would ask who the hell you think you are but I sense I'd get a sarcastic
answer?" Mr Sukerfeel responded.

"I think I'm Hans Bound," Max joked humourlessly.

"Excellent idea," Mr Sukerfeel said.

Max's wrists were grabbed by the two men behind him and bound together with
shackles that fastened around his wrists like a leather watchstrap. They
were too ostentatious – Max could already tell the length of the chain
between the two bracelets was too long. He could easily move his hands from
behind his back to the front by folding himself in half and skipping his
legs through. The loops of the shackles could be unpicked too since they
weren't locked. Max got the impression that this man was used to using
these shackles for BDSM rather than criminal restraint.

"Get out," Mr Sukerfeel ordered.

The guards turned immediately and left, the door opening and closing with a
quiet swish. Ernest Sukerfeel walked to the cross-shaped table and ran his
fingers along it. Max walked slowly towards him, taking in the details of
the table on which Mr Sukerfeel clearly enjoyed seeing men spreadeagled.





"Joey Havecock was lying on this table just this morning," Mr Sukerfeel
informed.

"Nice. Did you take pictures?" Max asked.

"He is a beautiful young man, isn't he? Well, you must think so, you
seduced him after all," Mr Sukerfeel said.

The man spoke very mildly but Max could tell he was angry.

"That's not fair, I seduce a lot of men," Max replied.

"Are you going to seduce me?" Mr Sukerfeel asked acerbically.

"I'd love to," Max responded.

Ernest Sukerfeel searched for any trace of sarcasm but there was
none. Interesting.

"Why did you come?" Mr Sukerfeel asked.

Max hadn't moved much but now he meandered around the large room with
interest but never for a moment taking his eyes of the villain in front of
him. It would be unwise to underestimate him.

"You know why," Max replied. "I was shown straight up here because you know
I know about your plan."

"Let me guess, you think it's insane? I'm a mad genius who must be
stopped," Mr Sukerfeel said – rather enjoying himself.

It was true that Ernest Sukerfeel was a genius. He had six Masters degrees
in a variety of biological and technological subjects. He had only
abandoned his PhD's to pursue the hinderferon project.

"I mean, using technology to make people impotent is for sure not the most
rational thing to do," Max replied. "It's also pretty absurd. Can you
really use technology to send biological cellular instructions?"

Ernest Sukerfeel was impressed that Max seemed to understand his plans. He
thought Max was just an idiot. Max had done his reading before departing on
the mission. He didn't understand the exact neurochemical process but he
believed Ernest Sukerfeel could do it.

"Mr Bound, you surprise me," Mr Sukerfeel said.

"I'm more interested in why?" Max asserted.

Mr Sukerfeel regarded Max (Hans) with suspicion. Did it matter why?

"I have a primary neurosexual dysfunction caused by multiple sclerotic
lesions between my hypothalamus and brain stem," Mr Sukerfeel said. "Do you
know how... infuriating it is? I have more wealth than kings and I can't
fix what's wrong with me."

"There's not much wrong with you," Max said pragmatically. "You're a
good-looking man. So what if you can't get a boner."





Ernest Sukerfeel studied Max for several seconds. There was no sarcasm, no
mockery, no insincerity. If the spy lacked sympathy, he made up for it with
pragmatism and acceptance. But he didn't understand. Ernest Sukerfeel
wasn't looking for compassion and inclusion for impotent people.

"I have lived with this for years. I have faced failed relationships,
derision and mockery," the man complained. "It's not fair!"

The man sounded petulant but Max empathised.

"I know," Max said with genuine sympathy.

"I've been humiliated as I sought ways to fix it and was let down by
scientists, surgeons and medics," Mr Sukerfeel listed a litany of
complaints.

"So your solution was to create technology that interacted with
neuroanatomy?" Max asked. "Inhibit sex-related neuropeptides by instructing
the manufacture of hinderferon. Do you really not understand why people
think you're mental?"

"Eight billion people on this stupid planet and we have starvation,
resources consumed like parasites that don't know their killing the host,"
the billionaire spat as he stalked towards Max. "It's not just about me."

Ernest Sukerfeel stood in front of Max and pulled tie off and ripped the
shirt open to reveal his chest. Max suspected the gesture was supposed to
be intimidating but Max liked showing off his body. Taking off clothes was
usually the first step to more exciting activities.

The man pulled down Max's zipper and unbuttoned the trousers, pulling Max's
trousers and underwear down to his ankles. Max stood still as he was
exposed. His four-inch flaccid penis dangled impressively. The large black
man was only just taller than Ernest Sukerfeel and despite being bound and
almost naked, was still more imposing than the slight man.

"How would you feel, Mr Bound? If this stopped working?" Mr Sukerfeel asked
of Max's cock.

He grabbed Max's dick and tugged it. It was a plump and heavy dick even
though it wasn't erect yet. Ernest Sukerfeel grasped Max's balls in a very
tight grip, squeezing the spy's balls. It was a pleasurable pain though
cock and ball torture usually didn't really do much for Max. Max's balls
were fuzzy and prickly with hairs like the head of a dandelion – Mr
Sukerfeel really quite enjoyed fondling the big balls of the attractive
black man.

"You must enjoy having intercourse? You must enjoy oral sex and
masturbation?" he added.

"Of course I do," Max admitted softly as he put his hands on Mr Sukerfeel's
shoulders.

The man's eyes bulged as he realised Hans Bound's hands were no longer
bound.

"If you're going to restrain a man, you shouldn't use recreational bondage
tools," Max said.





"Does this devil may care attitude work on all men?" Mr Sukerfeel asked,
trying to remain calm at the hands of man who could kill him.

The billionaire was about to threaten to rip Max's balls off when Max
surprised Ernest Sukerfeel by kissing his lips. Max slid his arms around Mr
Sukerfeel's back and continued an impassioned exchange of tongues. Mr
Sukerfeel found himself falling into the intimate and exciting kiss. His
heart beat faster and he felt invigorated.

Mr Sukerfeel slowly let go of Max's balls, moving his hand, both hands, to
Max's ass. He squeezed Max's soft cheeks, pulling Max's groin closer to his
own. Max's exposed chest made contact with Ernest Sukerfeel's; the spy's
shirt had been torn open and the billionaire's was fastened only at the
navel.

Max toed his shoes off so he could wrestle his feet from the trousers
around his ankles. Once his legs were free, Max separated from the embrace
and walked towards the cross-shaped shaped table. Ernest Sukerfeel was
dazed and bewildered by the seduction from a man who had broken into his
office and stolen his research – he couldn't even blame alcohol because
the champagne was still on ice.

Max was still wearing his shirt and jacket though both were open to expose
his impressive chest. Ernest Sukerfeel touched Max's pecs, stroking long
and delicate fingers down to Max's navel. He wanted to touch Max's erect
cock. It had gotten so much bigger – achingly enticing.

"For real, you don't think an erection is the only way to have pleasure, do
you?" Max asked.

Max accepted that the man was disappointed with his erectile dysfunction
but he wasn't being facetious when he asked: "so what?" There were so many
other ways to enjoy sex. Maybe Ernest Sukerfeel's problem was not his
impotence but his off-putting personality, his arrogance, his callous
attitude towards others... Max could have been describing himself.

Max reached for the waistband of Ernest Sukerfeel's shorts and pulled them
down. The man had a tidy bush of pubes and a light dusting of hair on his
inner thighs. The penis was three inches long and flaccid with a foreskin
covering a prominent mushroom head.

"Let me show you," Max whispered.

Max knelt down and kissed the plump and pliable penis. It didn't bother Max
that it was soft – soft dick's were fun. You could still lick a limp
dick. You could still mash your face into the asshole of an asshole with no
erection.

Ernest Sukerfeel didn't quite understand why he was letting this man seduce
him. Maybe he wanted to believe it was possible to be excited again? For
Max, it was all about distracting the man long enough to find and extract
Joey Havecock to safety and to find the location of the hinderferon
transmitter.

Max hoped Cyrus was making progress.





THINKER, JAILOR, SOLDIERS, SPIES

At the same time as Max was antagonising the front desk of SkyCall
Telecommunications to gain access to Mr Sukerfeel, Cyrus had entered the
lobby with a different target. He still looked like Rider Topsman but he
was wearing the uniform of a security guard. Black trousers and grey shirt
with a combat vest.

Kash had warned them that Ernest Sukerfeel had bolstered security and was
now employing mercenaries as armed guards. Mr Sukerfeel had clearly
anticipated trouble. They had, as a result, been authorised to use lethal
force if necessary.

Cyrus walked towards the security door in the lobby and removed Joey's ID
card. The young man was just an office boy but he had top-level
clearance. Cyrus had wondered why but Max – the consummate expert in
sex, sexuality and seduction – had said it was obvious why. Ernest
Sukerfeel liked looking at beautiful people.

Cyrus hoped Mr Sukerfeel's thing for beautiful people blinded him to
deactivating security passes or this was going to get tricky. Cyrus was in
luck - Joey's ID card still worked and the security door opened. There were
several security offices and interview rooms along the corridor but only
one or two of the rooms were occupied. Cyrus passed two guards but the
changing of the regular security staff and the addition of mercenaries
meant unfamiliar faces were not suspicious.

Cyrus thought about where to start – the most important thing was
unfortunately not the office boy but the location of Mr Sukerfeel's
hinderferon transmitter. Whatever his reasons for making people impotent
– delusion, spite, misery, insanity – he had to be stopped. A man who
had invested hundreds of millions in that kind of technology was not going
to be persuaded to stop by shagging Max.

Cyrus had been given a good idea of where to go thanks to building plans
pulled by Kash so he found a vacant office with a terminal with the kind of
access he'd need. He logged in with remote help from Kash. Cyrus was
wearing a communications earpiece that connected him to Kash – Max had
inner ear implants but they were in standby mode until Cyrus had located
Joey.

"Hook me up before you go go," Kash said.

Cyrus attached a small remote computer (it had been stashed up his combat
vest) to the terminal in the security office and watched screens and
cursors move as Kash did his thing. Cyrus turned off the monitor to hide
the activity and left the room, closing the door behind him as he went
looking for Joey.





"I think you'll need to go up to the second floor. They have
euphemistically defined holding rooms up there," Kash said.

"Understood," Cyrus replied and headed for the stairs. He was on the
second-floor landing when Kash swore.

"Fuck!" Kash said and muttered some more.

"What's up?" Cyrus asked.

"The location of the hinderferon transmitter isn't in the files we stole
from the cybersecurity hub and I can't access a location from the terminal
we're logged into," Kash said.

Cyrus paused in the stairwell just outside the second-floor door. He was
thinking.

"Can you access shipping records for Mr Sukerfeel's businesses?" Cyrus
asked.

"What? Eh... yea... why?" Kash asked.

"Because a secret base for building an improbable impotence tower is only
as good as the delivery company that ships to it," Cyrus suggested. "I
didn't have as long as you to read the files as you did but a transmitter
like that will need precious metals..."

"You are bloody brilliant!" Kash said in his heavy Glasgow accent. "We can
exclude his facilities that routinely receive precious metals and rule out
the more obvious iron, silicon, nickel and copper..."

"You should look for off-the-book properties owned by his subsidiaries that
have taken delivery of caesium, niobium and molybdenum," Cyrus advised.

"I'm on it," Kash replied excitedly.

Cyrus left the thinker to his work and opened the door and walked into the
second-floor corridor. He headed for a security desk where there was a
bored looking guard with keys on his belt – the jailer, Cyrus assumed.

"I'm here for the office boy. Joey Havecock?" Cyrus said.

"Who wants him?" the jailer replied.

"Like I fucking know," Cyrus complained. "Too many new faces around here."

The jailer looked at Cyrus with appraising and distrusting eyes. Cyrus used
to be a soldier and he could fight when he needed to, shoot and kill when
he needed to – but he didn't like it. Max was the kind of spy who stole
and killed but Cyrus was the kind of spy who infiltrated and thought about
things.

"The boy is in room 101 but I'll need to call the Roundhouse," the jailer
said.





Cyrus obviously did not want the guard calling Mr Sukerfeel's penthouse
office. He increased the density of his fist and the length of his arm and
then lifted it above the top of the desk, punching the man in the face. The
jailer reeled back in his chair while Cyrus walked around the desk and
bashed the side of his head until the guard slumped over unconscious.

Cyrus restored his anatomy to normal and took the keys then he pulled the
jailer onto the floor to hide him under the desk. There was a
semi-automatic rifle too that the jailer had obviously put down. Cyrus took
it, sliding the strap over his head so it rested against his back and he
removed a handgun from the jailor's belt, stowing it in his own. He walked
towards room 101 and took two tries to find the right key. The lock popped
open and Cyrus swung the door open. There was a young man in the cell –
perhaps twenty years old but looking younger in the single cot with a
scratchy blanket pulled over him so only his bare bony shoulders were in
view. He was scared and frail, huddled in the bed and looking at Cyrus with
concern.

"My name's Rider Topsman, I'm here to rescue you," Cyrus said. "I was sent
by Yuri Tiedup."

It was so much easier to carry on being Rider and it was possible that if
he was successful in this mission, he could keep Rider as a cover that
might ingratiate him to Mr Renton-Mass again.

"Yuri Tiedup? That asshole abandoned me!" Joey squeaked but he had jumped
to his bare feet.

Joey's blanket fell to his feet, exhibiting his nakedness. The boy didn't
notice right away that he was now exposed to Cyrus. He was skinny and had
possibly lost weight after being held for days. His little willy was almost
hidden in his pubes but he had nice balls. Cyrus was about to suggest they
find some clothes when an alarm sounded.

"Time's up, let's go," Cyrus said.

Cyrus offered a hand to Joey and when the boy took it, he pulled the young
man out of the room and encouraged him to run.

"Wait! I'm still totally naked!" Joey said – as if his two-inch prick
needed attention called to it.

"I know. C'mon," Cyrus encouraged.

Cyrus and Joey raced for the stairwell at the opposite side of the floor
from where he had started. It wasn't where he wanted to go but where he
wanted to go had three soldier's (mercenaries) within view, all armed, and
Cyrus guesstimated another two around the corner. They were blocking the
stairwell Cyrus needed to get to and when they saw Cyrus and Joey they gave
chase but no-one was shooting yet.

Joey was more than able to keep up with Cyrus, even on bare feet. However,
he could feel his penis and balls flopping as he ran. With one hand being
held by Cyrus's and the other for balance, Joey couldn't even cover his ass
or his genitals.





Cyrus pushed the door into the stairwell open and pulled Joey with him to
the first floor. They opened the door and entered a more conventional
administrative office floor. There was an array of desks within the open
plan office, phones ringing and the smell of printer ink and an increasing
number of stunned faces.

They were less stunned by the armed security guard barging through the
office than the naked young man being dragged behind him. Cyrus didn't dare
let go of Joey's hand in case the boy fell behind or got lost but it meant
Joey had to keep an uncomfortable pace as he ran barefoot. The mortified
young man could see smirks and grins, some open laughter, pointing and even
a few phones as they crossed the room. It was bad enough that his
co-workers had seen his dick but his uncovered his penis was now being
flashed to even more people as he ran around naked in front of dozens of
office workers.

Joey was thoroughly humiliated by his exposure as his penis bounced while
he ran. Even more embarrassing was that the squat two inches filled with
blood, doubling in size as it flopped and flapped against his almost
hairless, boyish thighs.

Cyrus and Joey ignored the shouts from behind but office workers jumped
with fright and stood aside as the mercenaries raced to catch up. Cyrus was
leading them through the office to the stairwell he had ascended just ten
minutes ago. The stairwell been blocked by the soldiers on the second floor
but they had all given chase through the office instead of catching him in
pincer movement.

A whistle caught Joey's attention and he was mortified to be pictured by a
camera phone – his full-frontal exposure captured by a hot man in his
late twenties. The man took a picture of Joey's ass as well and dreamed of
pushing his cock between those creamy cheeks.

Cyrus hammered out of the office and into the stairwell. Cyrus turned and
pushed the door closed and then used the grip of the handgun to hammer down
on the handle which snapped to disable the latch of the door. It would not
take long for the soldiers to get past the door.

Cyrus took Joey with him as he headed down and then down and then down. On
the second basement level, Cyrus and Joey entered an underground parking
garage.

"Shit," Cyrus said as he tugged Joey sharply so they both stumbled behind a
car.

Gunshots rang out and glass exploded. Joey whimpered as glass showered over
his bare back and around his bare feet but it didn't break the skin. Joey
cowered but was uninjured but they were pinned down.

"Kash, I've got a problem," Cyrus reported.





NO MR BOUND, I EXPECT YOU TO TRY

Ernest Sukerfeel was perched on the edge of the cross-shaped table, naked
below the waist and his shirt wide open. His lean chest and tight waist
were being kissed by Max whose fingers were inside the man's anus.

Ernest Sukerfeel was impotent and hadn't had an erection for nearly thirty
years but this arrogant bastard of a man who had stolen from him and had
the gall to come back was making him feel things he thought was
impossible. He still wasn't hard but he felt excited, tingling and
warm. Max had been milking the prostate for ten minutes while kissing Mr
Sukerfeel's chest and sucking his nipples.

Now Max was reaching around the billionaire with one hand, his fingers
inside the man's asshole, and his other hand was tweaking a nipple.

"You have the genius to create technology that will inhibit sexual desire,
function and satisfaction?" Max said gently. "Why can't your technology
help you regain those things?"

"My impotence is structurally neurogenic, it can't be fixed," the man
replied breathlessly.

The genius had of course considered hinderferon manipulation as a way to
fix his impotence instead of causing it in others – he wasn't a total
monster. But it was impossible.

"But you hate it. So why are you going to make others suffer like you?" Max
asked.

Max was stroking the three-inch softy. Petting it. It was like a little
mouse with the spray of hair above it but it was a dense and plump penis
that was nice to play with even if it didn't get hard. Max was hard though
and Mr Sukerfeel looked at the impressive ten-inch cock with envy and lust.

"It's not just about the fact I've been ridiculed and failed, treated
without sympathy or even thought of at all..." Ernest Sukerfeel said
bitterly. "It's about population growth. It's unsustainable. The population
of the world is 8 billion. Twenty years ago it was 6.3 billion. Fifty years
ago it was 3.8 billion. One hundred years ago it was 2 billion."

Max already knew that the problem of population growth increasing at a
geometric rate was exacerbated by a supply deficit in supply and demand of
the things need to support it. Starting in 1920, the population increased
by 1.8 billion in fifty years; in the last twenty years alone it had
increased by 2 billion. The more people there are, the more people there
will be.





It's not really that resources are scarce – there is plenty of food and
energy and land to go around – but the greed of those who control the
resources is insatiable. As resources are wasted instead of used and
catastrophic climate changes displaces people while agricultural land is
irreparably destroyed and irreplaceable energy resources are squandered
while exacerbating the aforementioned problems, Max knew there would come a
time when resources really were scarce. There would come a time when wars
would be fought over food instead of oil.

Was Ernest Sukerfeel really about to suggest that his insane plan so
suspend sexual capacity was an effort to save the human race? That was even
more far-fetched than 8G controlling biology.

Max squatted to put his mouth to Mr Sukerfeel's penis, licking the yummy
tube of flesh while his fingers continued to wriggle inside the man. He
pulled his fingers from Ernest Sukerfeel's ass and gave his own cock a
stroke with the freed hand.

"Curbing desire and function for sex will save lives, Mr Bound," the man
insisted. "And also to make others suffer like me..."

Max lifted his mouth from Mr Sukerfeel's prick. He looked at the man who
smirked down at Max.

"Though, I confess... you nearly have me changing my mind," he confessed.

"If you stop, I'll let you play with my big cock," Max promised.

"It's certainly big enough for two," Ernest Sukerfeel replied enviously.

The ten-inch cock was magnificent. Not just long but fat and... big! It was
really very big! Max stroked it and stood up again, batting the
billionaire's willy with the head of his cock. Max pressed his cock between
Mr Sukerfeel's legs so the man's ball sac and flaccid dick flopped on top
of Max's impressive cock.

"But I have to do this. You know that, don't you?" Mr Sukerfeel said as if
trying to convince the spy.

Max masturbated his cock between the grip of Ernest Sukerfeel's thighs,
reaching around again to return his fingers to the man's asshole. Max had
been genuinely curious to see if he could milk the man's prostate and get
the useless prick to emit something. He kissed the billionaire and heard a
voice speaking through his inner ear implant.

"Max, there's a problem. I've found the transmitter and I'll tell you when
you get back," Kash said. "But Cyrus is pinned down in the second basement
garage."

"That doesn't sound good," Max said mildly.





Ernest Sukerfeel thought Max was talking to him while Kash appreciated he
was thinking about solutions.

"You really thought making me quiver would make me spare the pitiless
degenerates of Albion?" Mr Sukerfeel.

"On the plus side, the garage is where all the cars live," Kash said. "All
you and Cyrus need to do is clear a path through twenty heavily armed
mercenaries... oh, nineteen. Cyrus is running low an ammo though."

"Ok," Max said with a sad sigh.

It looked like Max would never find out if he could milk the billionaire's
prostate. Max locked eyes with Ernest Suckerfeel and pulled his fingers
from the man's ass. Max put his fingers in his mouth and liked them
clean. The double doors into Mr Sukerfeel's suite opened an armed guard
walked in. Mr Sukerfeel looked at him angrily for interrupting but then
realised something was amiss.

"Mr Sukerfeel, there has been a security breach. Computers have been
hacked. Mr Havecock has been removed from custody. And, there is an armed
conflict in the underground garage," the guard reported.

"And I thought you came alone," Mr Sukerfeel said angrily.

"You know I'm going to stop you, do you?" Max asked gently.

"No Mr Bound, I expect you to try," Ernest Sukerfeel replied.

Max punched the billionaire madman in the throat. Mr Suckerfeel put his
hands to his throat as he turned to face the cross-shaped table; staggering
against it as he coughed and spluttered bile, he was barely aware of what
Max did next. Max grabbed the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket
beside him and threw it at the head of the guard.

As the heavy glass bottle sailed through the air, Max ran forward – the
bottle smashed into the guard's face, falling to the floor where it cracked
and a second later, Max skidded into the mercenary's legs. The soldier
landed heavily and was unconscious – well, he was after Max hit his head
off the floor one more time.





Max was still totally naked below the waist and semi-hard while his shirt
and jacket hung open to expose his chest. He took the guard's firearm and
walked back to Mr Sukerfeel who had nearly recovered. Max reached inside
the man's shirt – not to fondle but to take the ID badge that was hidden
inside.

"You... can't..." Ernest Sukerfeel started to say in a choked voice.

Last time Max had heard someone that throaty had been when he'd pushed his
cock too far into the guy's mouth. Anyway, Max had had enough. Cyrus needed
him and he needed to get out. Max switched the gun to his left hand and
punched the man in the stomach and then thrust his whole arm between Mr
Sukerfeel's legs.

Max brought his arm up sharply to connect with the impotent villain's
balls, causing him to groan yet again, and lifted him off the
ground. Ernest Sukerfeel was practically sitting in the crook of Max's arm
and the spy carried him to the edge of his pool and then threw him
in. Still winded from the throat punch and the bollocking, Ernest Sukerfeel
would be lucky not to drown. He would certainly pose no threat while Max
escaped.

Max was about to get dressed and use the Sukerfeel ID to leave via the
private lift when the lift door's started to open – they had sent
another guard. That was ok – the fewer downstairs, the merrier. Max ran
full pelt towards the lift and watched the surprised look on the soldier's
face as he charged like a bull, or a rugby player, into the lift. Max
launched his shoulder into the mercenary's chest and he crashed into the
back of the lift.

Max smacked the man's head into the wall again to make sure he was
unconscious and the mercenary slumped. Max pulled off his own shirt and
jacket and for a moment he admired his nakedness in the mirrors of the
lift. The vision of his own big, muscular body and a floppy seven inches of
cock were enough to turn him on. Not time for that. Max stripped the
mercenary of his tactical gear, including a bullet proof vest, a helmet and
combat goggles. He hoped the regular unarmed guards had not been deployed
the garage. Max dressed and pressed the button for the second basement.

"Cyrus? How are you doing?" Max asked via his comms.

"Still pinned down but I managed to get another rifle to suppress their
advance," Cyrus replied. "I have the boy with me."





The mercenary in the lift had a handgun and an assault rifle, plus Max
still had the other gun. The lift doors opened and the sound of orders and
gunfire filled the air. Max could smell the discharge of weapons in the
air. Max could see two mercenaries firing towards the other side of the
garage.

Peering out, he could see another group of three firing towards the same
corner. Max aimed his handgun and fired low. They had bullet proof vests
and helmet but their legs weren't bullet proof and getting shot hurts a
lot. The group of three shared five bullets to their legs and thighs, one
bullet missed. The group of two were treated to bullets that punched into
the buttocks of one and the femoral artery of the other. He would die soon.

Max didn't know how many of the mercenaries Cyrus had killed or disabled
but if Kash was right and there was only twenty of them: one was
unconscious in the Roundhouse and another unconscious in the lift while he
had just disabled another five. That would leave not more than thirteen.

"How many have you taken out?" Max asked.

His inner ear implant communicated with Kash and Cyrus. Kash generally
remained quiet during missions unless communication was critical.

"Four dead. Three injured," Cyrus reported.

Six armed combatants left. That was manageable. Max's gunfire alerted the
mercenaries to a new combatant; they retreated while they figured out where
he was, how many there were and how well armed. The air was thick with the
smell of nitro-glycerine, a fog of smoke lingered as well.

"Come to me," Max said and he warning shots to guide them and to force the
mercenaries to take cover.

"We're on our way," Cyrus said.

Max could see Cyrus and the slight figure of Joey Havecock moving towards
him, keeping low. Was Joey naked? Neat!

"I'll get a car," Max said.

Max chose an armoured car that the mercenaries had obviously brought with
them. It was wide and heavy – which would help them get out in one
piece. They could worry about speed once they were away from the men with
guns. Max hoped for an electronic key for the Massive-2023 but it was a
manual ignition. Luckily, the dumbass's had left the keys in the ignition.





Max loved the modern tendency for electronic locks on vehicles. For someone
like Kash, it took seconds to upload a software bypass to Max's inner ear
implant and for Max to wirelessly override the vehicle start up. The only
thing easier was when morons left the keys for him. Max had just started
the engine of the Massive when gunfire resumed.

Cyrus pushed the naked office boy forward – Joey stumbled into a run and
made for the armoured vehicle.

"Get in," Max shouted at the vulnerable young man.

Max enjoyed the sight of the naked twink as he clamoured into the car –
his ass sticking out so that for a moment the delicious dude was on all
fours, doggy style. However, there was no time to admire Joey's attractive
ass.

"Yuri?" Joey asked uncertainly – unable to recognise the man beneath the
helmet and goggles protecting his head and eyes.

Gunfire spurned Joey into the passenger seat before Max (Yuri) could say
anything else. Cyrus crouched beside one of the men Max had incapacitated
and took his assault rifle, returning fire. Max turned to shoot too but he
could already see they were too late. The remaining mercenaries had
regrouped and Max counted at least ten men so they had received
reinforcements. The armed men were coming from too many directions with
only one way out for the good guys – by vehicle which Cyrus could not
get to.

"I'll come to you, Cyrus," Max said through his inner ear implant.

A screech of tires reported this was not going to be possible as a second
Massive-2023 approached form the far end of the garage.

"Get out of here," Cyrus replied – his earpiece making his voice clear
and commanding.

"I didn't come to rescue the boy but leave you behind," Max said as started
the vehicle.

"We came to rescue the boy and we came to find out where the hinderferon
transmitter is. Kash is working on that," Cyrus replied. "Go! I'll keep
them back and then surrender. Ernest Sukerfeel's file suggests he doesn't
really know what he's doing with these mercenaries or he'd have killed you
when he had you. He also shows a penchant for curiosity and gloating, I
think he'll keep me alive."

Max groaned with frustration. Prolonged gunfire in an underground garage in
the centre of the Scottish capital had probably already attracted the
attention of local law enforcement and most certainly the ire of the
Glasstower. Max was going to be in big trouble for this firefight and if
Cyrus got himself killed, there'd be hell to pay. He hoped Cyrus's
assessment of Ernest Sukerfeel was right.





Gunfire sprayed from the mercenaries in the garage and from the vehicle
that had slowed as they reached the conflict site. Cyrus sprayed bullets at
them, smashed the window of the car he was hiding behind, reached in to
release its handbrake and then ran behind it to push it into the path of
the Massive-2023 that was attempting to reach Max and Joey.

With the pursuing vehicle obstructed, Cyrus fired again and Max pulled out
of the parking spot and raced away. He wasn't happy about it but he and
Cyrus understood hard choices had to be made in conflicts and his staying
behind might ensure the escape of an innocent young man.

A naked innocent man.

"Kash, I'm going to need to monitory law enforcement communications," Max
said after tapping his thumb and finger to open a line to the Bunker. "And
see if you can listen in to the mercenaries."

"You got it," Kash replied - all business.

He would have been listening and already knew about the undesirable turn of
events.

Max looked at Joey as he sped towards the other side of garage; with a
helmet and goggles on, Max's vision of Joey was limited. Joey looked slim
and harmless and really very cute. Bullets smashed the window beside Joey
who squeaked and ducked. Joey's face was in Max's lap and even at a time
like this, Max thought sexy thoughts. Max started to imagine a high-speed
blow job from the twinky office boy but his cock was ten inches and one
bump could choke poor Joey. Impaling a young man's face with ten inches of
dick sounded like a lot of fun though – maybe when they were safe?

There were mercenaries ahead and on the left as Max reached the end of the
garage and turned sharply, with the mercenaries jumping out of the way. Max
turned onto the ramp up to first basement and then up again to the ground
floor where he could exit.

"Get up," Max told Joey so he could shift gears.

If they had any sense they would have guards on each level, especially the
exit. Unfortunately, they had sense. On the ground floor, Max sped towards
the exit where the mercenaries were too slow to shoot. Max leaned out the
window to let off warning shots and suppression fire.

Joey felt very exposed – naked and barefoot in the car, showered with
glass and people shooting at them and the busted window was letting in the
night air which was cold. Joey covered his eyes as he blasted through the
barrier of the carpark exit and lurched onto the road in front unsuspecting
civilians. Most of them were in suits and ties, attending or leaving late
night meetings in one of the buildings in the business park.

Max hated tactical driving in civilian zones.





"Cyrus, are you still there?" Kash asked over the comms.

"I'm unarmed. I surrender," Cyrus said – not to Kash but to the
mercenaries.

Max and Kash should hear muffled shouting, perhaps disagreement about
killing or sparing unarmed people who had shot at them just a few minutes
earlier. There was microphone feedback sound as the earpiece was removed
and Cyrus's fate became a mystery. He had bought Max the time he needed to
get out though.

Then Max heard the roar of an engine and looked to see a flashy car
speeding out of the car park. The mercenaries had opted for speed over
strength – stealing a fast-moving vehicle that would quickly catch
up. Max thought it was an Anton Martine XXIII and started to formulate a
plan. Even these idiots would be careful about blindly shooting in business
sector street – especially in a business park where they were all
wealthy enough to sue – but they could catch up and then shoot them.

Max sped up as he was chased through the streets of the business park,
turning sharply at corners. The heaviness of the armoured vehicle made its
turns lazy but the lightness of the pursuing car made its sharp turns
nearly lift it off the road. Ahead was a long straight street that was
empty. Max put his foot down while the passenger of the pursuing vehicle
leaned out to shoot. Aiming at high speed was hard but the aptly named
Massive-2023 was hit, smashing the rear window and causing Joey to squeak
and cower again.

The Anton Martine was gaining on them – closing the distance with
alarming speed.

"Can't you go any faster?" Joey pleaded.

Max looked to make sure Joey was wearing his seatbelt. He was. Good.

Max was doing 50MPH and the pursuing vehicle was closing fast – perhaps
75 or 80MPH? Good.

The Anton Martine was very close behind them now so Max pushed the clutch
down and slapped the breaks. The wide, large and heavy armoured vehicle
came to a very sudden stop while the lightweight sports car did not.

Until it made contact with the Massive-2023





The Anton Martine smashed into the back of the armoured car and the entire
front crimpled, the most solid thing was the engine which was rammed
backwards, crushing the driver and the passenger with gout blood. The
sudden stop also imparted motion that lifted the back of sports car so it
flipped into the air, eventually landing on the roof.

Inside the Massive-2023, the airbags deployed. Max shot them both and
pushed into gear.

"Are you ok, Joey?" Max asked.

"I don't know what's going on, Yuri," he replied.

Max swerved around the remains of his pursuers just as he heard the distant
sound of sirens that signalled he was about to be intercepted by the local
police.

"Fuck!" Max said. "Kash, I need a way out."

"Not gonna happen. All available units are on their way, armed response is
a few minutes behind them," Kash reported. "Escape routes
are... ambitious... even for you and you'd be on small roads, lots of
civilians, low speeds..."

"I need to dump the car, Kash. I'm approaching the water of Lieth," Max
asserted.

"Motorbike," Kash said – reading Max's mind. "Incoming police and media
helicopters too."

Helicopters might be problematic but at least Max's identity was hidden
beneath the helmet and goggles. Max's eyes found what he was looking for
and he hit the brakes again.

"I need an electronic key for a Ghostrider-72 motorbike," Max said.

The key would be sent to his middle ear implant as soon as Kash found it.

"Get out, Joey," Max said as he climbed out of the car.

"Into the busy street? Naked? No way," Joey said firmly.

The street was busy with onlookers looking at the trashed car, the man in
combat gear with his head and face obscured and... was there a naked young
man in that car?

"Max, you're running out of time. I've told dispatch the suspect is armed
and extremely dangerous," Kash said – using the mechanisms of
intelligence and government to help.

"Oh, so you didn't even need to lie," Max jested.

"For their safety, I've told them to hold back all police vehicles until
armed response is on site. You have three minutes to get the hell out of
there," Kash cautioned.





Max could hear the police and news helicopters overhead so even escaping
the road still left an airborne problem that hopefully Kash could deal
with.

"Joey, you can't stay here. You're a witness. You are in danger until I
deal with Ernest Sukerfeel. The police won't be able to protect you, I
will," Max said gently.

"You promise?" the young man asked.

"Come with me now, Joey," Max said.

"I have the key, you're good to go," Kash said.

Despite cautioning, Max saw five officers approaching with police
batons. Joey had climbed out of the car and padded along the cold concrete
on bare feet, covering his genitals with his hands to join Max. Max had to
stop the police coming closer and make sure no-one thought Joey was
complicit so he grabbed Joey and pulled him close. Max wrenched Joey's arms
behind his back and then pinned them there by putting his left arm across
Joey's chest and pulling Joey's back tightly against his muscular chest. In
his right hand, Max held a gun.

Joey's bare, silky, spindly legs contorted to try hand hide his penis from
the police and the onlookers in the street but to no avail. Max felt both
turned on and sorry for the poor naked boy who was exposed in public.

"Stay back," Max shouted at the police.

Max was moving himself and Joey towards the motorbike that Kash had sent an
electronic key for. The police stopped moving but on the road there was a
crowd of incautious civilians. Some sniggering and pointing and flashes of
light signalled pictures being taken of poor, naked Joey.

"Joey?"

Max turned himself and the young man towards the voice – exposing Joey
full frontally to the pedestrian crowd who had so far only seen Joey in
profile.

"Oh my god, Joey!"

The boy who had recognised Joey was in his mid-teens and was very busy
taking pictures of Joey's naked exposure.

"Who is this?" Max asked, still moving towards the motorbike.

"I went to school with his big brother," Joey whined hopelessly.

"Why is your dick so small?" the teenager giggled.

A lad beside him laughed too.

"It's fucking tiny!"





Joey's flaccid little lump was under two inches long – his balls were
bigger inside a tight but almost hairless sack. Joey's petite penis was
exacerbated by creamy smooth thighs and very short pubes.

"Oh my god, that's hilarious," the kid laughed as his camera flashed again.

"Ok, that's enough. Run!" Max said – pointing his gun towards the crowd.

They screamed and ran while Max kept his nude hostage and pointed his gun
back at the police who had tried getting closer instead of staying
back. They carefully backed off. The sound of the motorbike coming to life
was a relief as spotlights from the sky shone Max and Joey.

"Climb on. Now!" Max said.

Max got on the bike and grabbed the handles but Joey discovered the back
saddle of the bike was rear facing. If it had been facing forward, Joey's
nudity might have been partially hidden by Max's body. As Joey sat on the
bike his nakedness exposed for all to see especially since he had to hold
onto the seat instead of covering his privates.

Max lurched onto the road which was now closed on both sides by heavy
police presences. He didn't need to worry about that though because access
to the Lieth Walkway was right between them. The Walkway was meant for
pedestrians rather than motorbikes moving at excessive speed. The naked boy
on the back was cold and shivering, seen by people who angrily jumped out
the path of the motorbike and then did a doubletake on the naked young man.

Above, the police and media helicopters continued to follow them – poor
Joey hadn't even thought about how his naked body would be on TV.

"You're about to pass the police road cordon. Stay on the Walkway, I'm
working on getting rid of the helicopters," Kash said.

"Is he still alive?" Max asked.

There was a pause before Kash answered the non sequitur.

"Cyrus? I don't know," Kash confessed.

"I think Mr Sukerfeel will deduce we know where his impotence transmitter
is," Max said – still manoeuvring at speed. "Cyrus is more valuable as a
hostage, right?"

"Let's hope your right but Mr Sukerfeel has an army of mercenaries. What
the hell do we have?" Kash asked rhetorically.

A naked twink, a tech genius and a spy with a ten-inch cock!

Max was already coming up with plan A, B and C. Ask the Glasstower, ask the
SEX Men or... well, let's hope it doesn't come to that.



TO BE CONCLUDED...







This story will conclude with part three next week. Nifty has archived this
story separately from the other stories in the Anthology series so to catch
up on the past short stories, check them out here:

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/anthology/



Many thanks to the Nifty Archivists, please consider donating to help keep
the site up and running (I receive NO financial compensation for my
stories): http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html



Feedback to authors is their only compensation and motivation.

Email me: niftyencomiums@gmail.com

My blog: https://niftyencomiums.blogspot.com (updated frequently with
teasers for upcoming content)

My tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/niftyguy. My newtumbl:
https://niftyguy.newtumbl.com/

My Twitter: @niftyencomiums1



My stories so far:

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#jforrester

Complete series: School Exhibitionism, The Symposium, The Embarrassment of
Riches, Do As You're Told and A Series of Embarrassing Events.

Ongoing (series): Noah, the Embarrassed Nudist.

Ongoing (interconnected) short stories: Anthology.

Short stories: Aiden's Accidental Autoerotic Assignment, Jogging Joe's
Jaunty Journey and Peter's Past Posing Pictures