Some very pornographic literature

The time device and assosciated surgeries
It was twenty-seven years between the construction of the time-device on planet object colony Z-E-X, and the inevitable onset of a number of exciting new scientific projects. Planet Z-E-X was a sexy planet, and a strange planet. The people of planet Z-E-X were a strange people, and their fetishes were wild, bizarre, and just past eccentric. The inevitable conclusion of this was a radical new program of sexual modification – the perfect system of created sexual objects, enlarged semen modules, experimental penis-enlargment surgeries, a number of fascinating sex-change surgeries, and the eventual creation of the final program – the perfect sex-slave protocol, which was based on a system of gene-modification, genital-surgeries, drug condition, and sub-audio sexual conditioning.
Sex-object Slave-bitch, a fairly new model, was used to her new life as a girl. She recalled she had woken up in a time-portal, but at that point she was a boy. She had short blonde hair, a nice short man-part, small perfectly-shaped man-testicles, and a slightly cuddly but perfectly formed gut and chest. She had liked being a boy, she recalled, before she had been a girl. Her hair was now longer, dyed black and blonde, with small breasts and tight but shallow girly-bits. She liked being a sex-object. She missed her manly-organs, and her small but adorable man-body. Her owner, a man called Daniel, had picked her up from the labs a few days after they had implanted the final modification – her perfect semen-glands, hidden within the folds of her created-parts.
Daniel sat on the bed, next to Sex-object Slave-bitch. He had named her slave-bitch, and she, in the remnants of her drug-damaged mind, liked it. He had taken her two times last night, and she liked the way he pinned her down, ramming his man-cock into her former manly form, the spot that sat between her once-boy legs a tight and sensitive girl-part now. Slave-bitch had been born on an agricultural planet, she recalled, a young man named Alec who loved playing with the other boys in the fields of the colony and making passionate love to them in the night. But then he had woken up on planet Z-E-X, and he had started his new life. They had taken him, dazed and confused, from the large spherical time-device in which he had awoken perfectly nude and perfectly turned on, to the surgical centre. He had asked, when he was a boy, why they were doing this – the procedure seemed exciting, but he wondered if he had a right to refuse. He had been informed that, as a clone, and a sexy little bitch, that they could do pretty much what they wanted. They drugged him, at that point, and began the slow laborious project of shaving and removing his pubic, armpit, and other bodily hair, while they prepared the simple machinery that would turn him into a sexy little sex-object.
When he woke up, his short body reformed into a more feminine form, his ass still as small and pretty as always, he had been worried. He had never been a girl before, as this was not a common procedure on his home world. It was, in fact, according to the repressive laws of his home world, entirely illegal. But he was cute, they had said, so they had chosen him.
The drug conditioning took a while, as they slowly eroded the barriers of his mind, leaving him sitting in the nude, playing with his new girl-bits and laughing, as he slowly became used to the potent hallucinogenic effects of the conditioning serums. They had dragged him out, a few times, and let one of the other models – a sex-object designed to make passionate love to people like him, his penis enlarged to the point of giganticness, his semen glands modified to shoot enough to fill a half-pint drinking glass. Slave-bitch sometimes tried to remember if she had drunk the glass, as she played with her girl-bits, and wondered about what was going on. She understood, as the sub-audio conditioning device had explained to her, that she was a good bitch, and a dirty bitch, and that she had been created to serve her master.
Daniel hadn’t had a sex-object of his own before, but he had shared a boy sex-object with some friends before, and he remembered tying him down, spanking him on the ass, and carefully milking his huge gene-enhanced balls until he came, leaving his legs and gut covered in man-semen. Spunk-object had been a good lay, and he missed playing about with him. The project was a compelling one, and a fascinating one.
He lay Slave-bitch down on the bed, and carefully opened her newly-formed girl-parts. She moaned slightly, as he carefully slid two fingers deep inside, and made passionate love to her small but elfin frame.
Her once small but manly ass, unbranded, lay before him, ready to be taken. He pulled his tight jeans down, and gently slid his cock into her small ass-hole, as he continued to drive his fingers deep inside her tight girl-parts. It was traditional on planet Z-E-X to brand or tattoo the sex-objects on relevant body parts, usually their small but perfect asses or on the back of their legs. Daniel hadn’t thought of an appropriate mark yet, Slave-bitch being the first sex- modified toy in his collection, but he was thinking of something simple – maybe just a small bar-code, with Slave-bitch underneath for this one. If it didn’t work out, he could always sell the dirty little thing, and buy a new one.
He said this to slave-bitch, as he made passionate love to her tight perfect ass, her tight once-manly back arched as she orgasmed, leaving the bed coated with a layer of synthetic semen-substance. She was a boy once. Daniel kept making love to her, until she came three more times, and then he finshed himself off, his boy-semen mixing with the thick layer of synthetic-semen that coated her and his legs.
After he was done, he pulled out, leaving her on the bed, and went downstairs to get himself some vat-grown beer, which he drank straight from the synthetic-plastic-material carton. He drank the strong beer, before walking upstairs to see what slave-bitch was doing. She was sitting there, playing with her new girl-parts, her synthetic-ejaculatory material soaking the perfect white sheets of Daniel’s bed.

A few days later, at a friends house, slave-bitch wearing very little sat with spunk object, trying to regain her sanity as she played with his huge gene-modified sex organ. She tried to fit it in her mouth, but she couldn’t – it was far too large. He was sat against the bed, as erect as he had ever been, his massive boy-thing reaching up past his nipples. His training-regimen was different, and he sat there looking adorable, wondering idly if he could finish himself off with his mouth.
Slave-bitch missed being a boy already. She had tried to ask if the surgery was reversible, but she had still not recovered from her drug-conditioning. Daniel had said that it wasn’t, and if it was he wouldn’t let his sex-object do it. He was trying to break her in with the guides he had received when he bought her. Tranny slaves, it said, liked playing with other sex-objects boy parts, as it reminded them of their own. Slave-bitch hadn’t wanted to be a girl before the surgery, but she liked it now – she was a dirty tranny pet, and she was having fun.
Spunk object had been a short red-haired boy called Sam, before he had woken up within the time portal, ready to be used, abused, and slowly modified with gene modifications and surgery until he was a perfect sex-toy. He had liked boys before, and he was entirely gay when he had woken up, but now he was a sex-crazed sex-object, and he would do anything. He had regained his senses a few months after they had prepared his conditioning, and now he could talk again – for a while he just sat there, playing with his giant manhood and his perfect giant man-testicles while he waited for someone to pick him up. He had a small registry-code tattooed on his ass, with the name Spunk-object written in ink beneath it. He was a sexy sex toy, he knew, and he wondered about Slave-bitch’s tranny mental state. Slave-bitch was a dirty slave, and he wondered if he could fit in her girl-parts. He tried, pinning slave-bitch down and ramming the tip of his hot hard spunk-object man-object into the edge of her tight new girl-parts, and trying futilely to enter her vaginal-cavity. But, to his great dismay, his massively-enlarged member could not make it into her tranny-parts.
Daniel laughed, and spanked spunk-object, who was once a small red-haired boy called Sam, hard on the ass, in just the right place to make him cum. He pulled out, shooting a huge load across slave-bitch’s tight pale-skinned back, and wondered if his constant hard-on would pass. Slave-bitch moaned, and lay flat on the floor, trying to remember her life before the sex-conditioning. The conditioning drugs would not wear off for a few more weeks, she knew, but she would never stop being an adorable sex-conditioned tranny bitch. She loved it when Daniel made love to her hot tranny parts, and when the guys at the centre had tested her out she had ejaculated her hot tranny-spunk for the first time since they had given her the surgery, and she thought about that as she lay on the floor, her legs spread. She had not, before the surgery, when she was a boy, wanted to be a sex-object, but now the conditioning was over she was happy as a dirty tranny bitch.
Spunk-object lay back on the floor, his gigantic member dripping spunk gently from the tip. He was still turned on, but he could stop for a while, despite the major sexual excitement that was shooting through his gene-enhanced genitalia. He didn’t, however, and instead he started power-driving the base of his enhanced boy-part with both hands, carefully leaning forwards and licking the tip. Daniel sat back and watched, playing with his dominant and erect penis through his jeans as slave-bitch lay passed out on the floor, her tranny fingers playing with her new sex-organ.
Daniel was excited at the thought of owning his new sex-object, and he knew he needed a friend for slave-bitch. Spunk-object was cool, but he wanted another sex-pet of his own. They were expensive, but he could afford another one, if he borrowed some personal credits from a friend and made sure to get a cheaper model – the older ones were just the same, but they were slightly less perfect, less hyper-ecstatic and sexually vivacious. Some sex objects with dead-zombie like eyes sat in their rooms in the centre for over a year before anyone picked one up.
There was a dead-eyed slave object, an older but more reliable class, called Sex-thing, which he thought he would pick up. Sex-thing had been left in the evaluation stages for a year before they gave him the surgery, while they conditioned him with drugs and sub-audio methods designed specifically for his object-class. He was a dirty bitch, and they had found that his low-level bondage fetish could be enhanced to a severe degree with the correct methods. By the end of it, he was ready to be transformed into his current form. He hadn’t felt into him, with his large member, his perfect testicles, and his short shaved blonde pubes, body hair, and shaved head. They had fused a semi-computer device to a collar in his neck, for some reason with his own consent, and re-written most of his neurological systems to make him the perfect subservient beast. He was a total bondage-sub, and while the papers he had read said he was the perfect man-slave, he hadn’t bought him directly. He had pale, almost white skin, and blonde eyebrows. He decided to take the short walk to the purchase centre in a few days, and pick him up.

Sex Thing
Sex-thing sat alone in his cell, the clear glass dividing wall exposing his naked form. He thought sadly about his loneliness, just sitting alone, playing with his boy-parts, and wondering about why he had been alone for so long. He still remembered his life, in the urban centres of the large and ancient colony which he had called home so long ago. He rubbed his naked ass, and wondered why nobody cared. There was no brand on his ass, nothing to signify that he was owned, and as such loved. He just wanted to be happy. He sat there and made love to his hand, which he found he could do six or seven times a day. He spent most of his time practising, until he could cum on command, and he could do that easily enough. He hadn’t made love to anybody since his collar was attached and his conditioning was complete, at which point he was declared a finished model and moved to the purchasing wing of the centre, to wait to be purchased.
He felt lonely when he was alone, which was most of the time. Sometimes people stopped by and watched, but he didn’t care. Because he didn’t know them. He was nice, and small, and pretty, and well built. Sometimes he tried to break his neurological conditioning, he didn’t know why, but he always found he was sitting there playing with his boy-bits or lying face down on the bed, his ass spread to show his perfect asshole.
It was late in the day, when two of the scientists of the centre, their dark grey suits under long white coats escorted Daniel to Sex-thing’s cell. They opened the door with a key-card, and invited him to stand. He stood up, and Daniel thanked the two scientists. He took Sex-thing by the arm, and slowly led his naked form from the cell.
Sex-thing and Daniel walked together, Sex-thing’s collar showing up dark against his naked pale skin. Daniel led the dead-eyed sex-object through the corridors of the centre, completely naked, until he reached the door of the facility, and walked him home to hang out with Slave-bitch, who he imagined was still sore after the sex-party last night with spunk-object and some of Daniel’s friends.

As Sex-thing got used to his new surrounds, having left the small cell in the centre for the more open home of Daniel’s modest colony-house and surrounding area, he tried to remember his old life. But, as he tried to think under the effects of his neurological conditioning, he felt more and more turned on, until he found himself sitting on the floor, playing with his boy-parts and thinking longingly of his new owner, Daniel.
Daniel was trying to arrange for a branding kit, so he could leave his mark on Sex-thing and Slave-bitch. Slave-bitch he had left on her own in the bath, as she tried to make her tranny-parts feel clean under the effects of the strong residual effects of the conditioning drugs they gave her. Daniel was talking loudly on the tele-communication’s-system, as Slave-bitch played with her new body, and, much like Sex-thing, tried to remember her life before she was a sex-object.
Sex-thing sat on the small bed that he was expected to share with Slave-bitch – there was a small bracket on the wall, large enough to firmly anchor two long chains, and he knew that Daniel was planning some bondage sex. He normally only liked boys, but Slave-bitch was a tranny sex-object, and he felt more turned on than he usually would. He tried to think again about his life, before falling back on the bed, one hand playing with his hard-on while the other furiously frigged his ass-hole until he shot a load across his gut. His orgasms could last for up to ten minutes, and he liked to stretch them out.
“Sex-thing,” Daniel said, “Stand.”
Sex thing stood up, hard and erect, as his manly master Daniel looked over his short but pretty form. Daniel gently stroked the tip of his cock, causing it to jump up and down in arousal. He wondered if Sex-thing remembered much about his life, before they turned him into a sex-object. He asked, and Sex-thing just nodded, before falling to his knees, his hands pressed gently against his legs. Daniel opened his sex-object’s mouth, and pulled his jeans down, his hard, natural cock standing erect. Sex-thing opened his mouth, before slowly taking his owner in his mouth, blowing him and making passionate love to his cock with his mouth. Sex-thing worked him until he came, and then he pulled away, letting Daniel’s hard cock shoot his white load across his face.
Daniel laughed. “Good sex-thing,” he said, “lay down and let me see your ass. Slave-bitch will be ready soon.” Sex-thing did exactly as Daniel wanted him to, bending over the bed and spreading his ass, so that he could see his small, tight asshole. Daniel knelt down and looked closely at Sex-things tight, pale asshole. He gently leaned over and stroked his sex-object’s ass, and tried to find the right spot on his ass to slap to make him cum. It took a while, but eventually found the spot beneath his right ass-cheek, and sex-thing moaned and shot his load across the bed.
Slave-bitch finished her bath, feeling as clean as a space-tranny-bitch could be. She stood, entirely naked, and watched as Daniel toyed with Sex-thing’s asshole. Daniel looked up, and Slave-bitch sat down next to him, her legs crossed and her tranny-bitch hands covering her tranny-girl-parts.
Slave-bitch was still thinking about her life. She vaguely remembered what she had looked like when she was a boy, but she didn’t think it was relevant. Sex-thing laid face down on the bed for a while, until Daniel said, “Get up.” Sex-thing stood up, and then sat down facing Daniel and Slave-bitch, while Daniel, his cock hard and ready to go again, looked sex-thing up and down across his smooth, hairless white skin. He told slave-bitch to kneel, and told sex-thing to begin making love to her tight tranny-mouth.
Slave-bitch blew his small, perfect sex-thing cock, his pale shaven crotch sitting there before her small re-shaped tranny nose. Slave-bitch stood there obediently, his hand placed on the exact spot on her back which Daniel had instructed him to place it. Daniel watched for a while, playing with his perfect man-parts, unenhanced except for a small piercing where the base of his cock met his balls. He waited until he was about to cum, before slapping sex-thing on the right spot on his ass, causing him to shoot creamy white cum down slave-bitch’s throat.
“Sit down,” Daniel said to sex-thing, who obediently pulled out of the other sex-object’s mouth, before sitting cross-legged on the floor, his boy-parts still standing erect.
Sex-thing tried to break his neurological conditioning again, as he did sometimes, and found himself laying face-down on the floor, his hand spreading his perfect small ass, his fingers gently brushing his tight ass-hole. Slave-bitch sat down next to him, frigging her tranny-parts, and watched as he played with his tight boy-ass.
Clothes were not a necessity for sex-objects on planet Z-E-X, but sometimes their owners liked to take them out about the place in a small skirt and shirt or a pair of shorts and a shirt or vest. Daniel didn’t have any clothes for his two new sex-objects, but there was a small open-air pool on the corner, so he dressed sex-bitch up in a pair of his boxers and a shirt, and let sex-thing wear a pair of swimming shorts that he hadn’t used for a while.
“Get up,” he said to his sexual playthings, who obediently did so. He escorted the two of them from his modest home along the tiled street of the colony, to the small but quiet pool which was entirely empty. The sky above planet Z-E-X was black night and day, and speckled with small pinpricks of starlight, but the air was warm and humid.
Daniel stripped to the nude and slowly let himself fall into the warm water. Slave-bitch followed him, the strong psychoactive conditioning drugs still clouding her once-genius tranny mind. Sex-thing sat at the edge of the pool, his legs falling gently into the water. He looked so hurt, and so Daniel said, “Pretty much do what you want, sex-thing.” Sex-thing lay back, as his neurologically sexually reconditioned mind slowly acclimated to the warm water. Daniel pulled slave-bitch close, and gently put his soft manly hands under her arms, and pulled her close. Slave-bitch pulled herself in, as Daniel playfully pushed Slave-bitch’s genetically modified head under the water. Slave bitch struggled to the surface, and as she came up, her head broke the surface of the warm pool-water. She seemed elated and high, for a moment, feeling refreshed and enlightened. Daniel pulled Slave-bitch close, as she leaned against his shoulder. She seemed alright for a minute, but Daniel noted that as she leant on his shoulder, she began to panic. He pulled her away from himself, and worried about what was wrong. Was slave-bitch the tranny slave alright? He looked her deep in the eyes, and could tell something was wrong. She was struggling in his arms, trying to pull away from himself, but she didn’t seem to be alright. Tears were flowing across her face. Inside, Daniel knew, with a worried mind, slave-bitch was having issues. The drugs were wearing off, maybe, maybe they had messed up. He pulled her out of the water, and sat her next to sex-thing. He told sex-thing to wait there while he took slave-bitch home, and quickly walked along to his perfect house, dragging her behind him. He put her to sleep in her bed, letting her perfect manly hand rest across her chest and gut, and made a quick call on his comms-device to a qualified sex-object scientist. He left sex-thing on the bed, under a warm thick blanket, and ran back to the pool to pick up sex-thing. He found him laid against the side of the pool, his perfect sexy pale ass spread between his hands, his finger gently toying with his tight perfect ass.

It was late at night, on Island Sigma-nine-Eco-Sigma, also known as Island Nineteen, colony six, planetary body Eco-sigma. The sky was lit by a light green-blue glow, from the large planetary body in which Eco-sigma stood in constant orbit. The sea below, infested with the phosphorescent algae-synth-substance-synthate that was still required in this early colonisation period to provide oxygen, also gave off a light green-blue glow. Colonist John Bareaern, sitting on a small plastic-metal synthetic pier, thought back to the night before, as the silvery metallic mineral-wash that sat as a light scum on the beach below glowed similarly.
He had spent the night with some hot young dudes in Brothel six. There had been three of them, and despite the small size of the colony, named Karlzvil, he had not yet had time to get to know them. What he had had time to get to know, however, was their hot young bodies, and their tight young assholes. Joe had been the youngest of them, barely twenty Eco-sigma period-years old, and as such barely legal. He had been gorgeous, his short blonde hair standing out against his dark olive skin, his short clipped blonde pubes highlighting his beautiful perfect six inch penis. He had taken a job at the brothel because he had nothing else to do at that young age, and he had been born, like John, on planet. Alec had long hair, framing a pale freckled face. His body was perfectly shaped, his hips pale beneath John’s hands. John thought back, as he smoked a rolled synth-material narcotic cigaretesque, to watching Joe lick Alec’s tight ass, his hands stroking his legs, as he jacked off over the two of them. He had taken up a position in the brothel for fun, and had prior worked as a clerk in the colony-directorial office of Town-six-alpha-colony-center-six, which was yet to be named, before taking up a position as a sex-whore-bitch in Brothel six.
There were eight brothels in Karlzvil, a small town but a major center of the sex trade in Colony-segment-Eco-Sigma-six-one-nine-one-beta-six-nico-six. While most of them focused on the bisexual side of the market, Brothel six focused on the manly side of the clientele-group of the Colony-segment. It was a short ride by colony-water-craft via piers and docks in both Karlzvil and Town-six-alpha-colony-center-six to any major port facility in the local region. While Karlzvil was a much more recently settled colony, Town-six-alpha-colony-center-six was a planned development, rather than an impromptu town set up by a few enterprising residents. Most of it’s five-thousand inhabitants refered to it as alpha-colony.
John took another drag of his cigaretesque, and lay back on the dock. The air was warm, as it was at all times of year, and he thought of going for a swim. There was little in the way of wildlife, but you would occasionally see a gene-engineered macro-fish swim past, it’s gold-day-glo scales showing up through the green-blue water like a lamp in the night. And gene-engineering did not only apply to the fish on Eco-sigma – as had been a proposal from the early stages of colonisation, gene-engineering applied to the people also. Like the third gorgeous man-whore who John had shared his bed with last night, and who he was hoping to meet today. His name, Ali, was beautiful, as was his engineered gold skin, and his gene-engineered desire to be rammed hard up the ass and made his boyfriend’s bitch. He had arrived in town mysteriously three period-years prior – the period years designed to mirror the natural aging of the human body, so the average man would live, much like his historical antecedents on whichever long-lost world had once been the home of humanity, whose name varied from vessel-system to vessel-system, star-system to star-system, station-system to station system, system-language to system-and language to language. In the language John spoke, System-sigma-eco-con-lang-eight-four-alpha, it was called Edi-zi-the, or The Lost Home. John often wondered about what this world was like. As, he had spoken with in the hot steamy Eco-sigma night, his finger in Ali’s mouth as he rammed his tight golden-brown ass, did Ali.
Ali had worked prior to docking at Alpha-colony as a crewman on a light hover-sea-craft, serving drinks behind the bar, he had mentioned to John, between gasps as John stroked his gene-enhanced body. Ali was designed to work as a linguist and diplomat, but had failed to meet expectations. He instead worked, in his current capacity, as a sexy man-whore in brothel-three. He had a very heightened sense of awareness, as well as a very heightened sense of sexual arousal. His mother had died in childbirth, and his father of medical complications soon afterwards, and so he had been raised on a far away segment of the planetary object. Eco-Sigma was an object in the early stages of colonisation, and so habitation-forming had been completed over one thousand period-year-segments ago, it was still farely sparsely populated, with less than ten million residents on a body the size of the long lost homeland of humanity.
John had listened to the story of Ali’s past, his hands on his hips, his manly cock buried deep in his tight ass, as Joe and Alec sat there beside them. Usually in a whorehouse full of sexy man whores, there was just sex, but tonight was a unique experience for John. He had more than just meaningless, hot, passionate sex with people who he would most likely not see again, or atleast continue a relationship with. But Ali was different. Ali was someone he would like to know – someone he loved. Ali’s genetic make-up meant he was a sexual, passionate, animal, he mentioned to John, and it also meant that he fell in love easily. The only issue was, he couldn’t stop loving him, and so he loved many men, and never women. He loved John entirely not from the minute he met him, or from the minute he first kissed him, but from the minute his hand first slid into his boxers, his fingers gently stroking his perfect cock.
He had worked on craft as a musician on the side, playing an instrument called the musico-via, an instrument he had mastered with ease. While he had little skill as a linguist, he had a lot of skill as a musician. As John, the night before, has jacked him off, as he bit his golden-skinned shoulder and pulled him close to him, as he felt his warm skin next to his, he wanted to know him. And he knew he loved him.
He smoked his cigaretesque, the warm narcotic, lightly spiced fumes filling his lungs with heat, and lay back. He wondered, in his dream-like daze, how Alec and Joe would feel about him stealing their sex-whore Ali, and moving him in with him. He knew he was going to do that, and he knew he would accept. He would be walking along the winding path to the pier, which ran around the tall stone outcropping that formed the tip of the island on which the pier and beach sat. He was turned on, thinking that Ali would be there soon. He had purchased a case of mini-amphora of Synth-drug-stimulant, and the small paper carton of cigaretesques lay next to it, luminescent in the Eco-sigma night.
He fell asleep for a while, dreaming gently of Ali’s hands upon his chest, Ali’s mouth pressed up against his mouth, Ali’s casual but sexual mention of his private fantasies, in which he was not only a man, but three men and a girl also. Ali was a strange and very sexual creature, and John knew it. John was turned on, and he dreamed of Ali for what felt like hours, Ali’s hands, Ali’s shoulders, Ali’s short dark hair, Ali’s beautiful golden skin. And then, as he woke up, he saw Ali’s face next to him. He longed to reach out, to pull him close to him, but in the instant he thought to do that he was still on the edge of waking. He wanted to be the one to make the first move, but he couldn’t. He didn’t have time to. Because Ali was, by the time he was awake enough to move at all, already on top of him. He was pinned down, Ali’s hands pulling off his shirt, Ali’s lips pressed up against his neck. Two mini-amphora lay open next to him, John’s packet of cigaretesques torn open, scattered upon the pier. He longed to pick one up and light it, to share it with the beautiful young man he was with, but he was pinned down, his lover’s hands pulling at his underwear. Ali was beautiful, and John loved him, and Ali loved John. Ali loved John intensely and truly, and sexually, but his gene-engineered heart could not bring itself to love only him. He was obsessively in love with him, but still he could not tear himself away from the others in his life. He had had a string of partners, before taking up a job at brothel six, and he missed them entirely. But today he was with John. John pulled back, but Ali pushed him down against the pier again, and kissed him passionately, his hands now inside his boxers. He knew John wanted a cigaretesque, because while they were not addictive, they were strong. As strong as his current passion for John.
He rolled of John after a while, and opened a mini-amphora, which he passed to John, who drank the contents of it, allowing them to sit on his tongue for a few seconds before swallowing the remains. He lit him a cigaretesque, and lit one himself, before describing the story of his life further. He placed a hand upon his chest, and described his first time, shortly after his twentieth period-year. He had been sitting in a bar in a far away colony-settlement, drinking a synthetic fruit drink laced with a few shots of synth-narcotic. He was feeling depressed, and empty, and had just failed to qualify as a directorial linguist. Fifteen percent of gene-engineered people of his class did not qualify, and he had felt depressed this way ever since. He was laid back in a reverie, until a young man, about his own age, sat next to him. He was cute, and had blonde hair and dark brown skin, and while he was origionally disinterested, when his leg touched his, he felt a sudden unexpected urge to grab him, and pull him close to himself. At that point, he fell in love. He had been informed, at the beginning of testing and qualification two period-years ago, that due to the design of his own genetic make-up he would fall in love easily, and he noticed that this was true. He looked over at the young man, desperate for some kind of affection, and he found it. “Hey, I should buy you a drink,” he had said, in a pleasant voice. Ali thought that would be good, and so he agreed, gently knocking him on the arm. He asked his name, with which he replied the name Nate. Nate, Ali thought, and he knew instantly that he was in love. The night continued, the two of them exchanging jokes and sexual comments, before going to Ali’s quarters in the town, and making passionate love for hours. Nate’s cock, hard and perfect, had rammed Ali’s virgin ass, his fingers jacking off his small but beautiful penis. Nate was a natural human, or atleast his recent ancestors were – everyone on Eco-sigma had some gene-being in their ancestry. He made Ali do everything, and Ali was his whore-slave-bitch-thing, sexually enthralled by him and also entirely subjugated by his sexual dominance. Ali found out two things that night – first that he was easily enticed by beautiful men, but secondly that he was easily subjugated, easily made weak by men who were strong. Nate left the next morning, bound for a colony town a hundred miles along the coast of the large island-continent on which they were currently residing. Ali wanted to go with him, but he couldn’t – he wasn’t required there, and he couldn’t afford to buy a colony placement. His heart had burned for him all his life, as it had burned for everyone he had ever loved. But, he promised John, tonight it burned only for him.
John had smoked the entire synth-narcotic cigaretesque by this point, and Ali had lit his own, which was burning down slowly in his hand. John’s boxers, by now around his ankles, his silver-fabric jeans pulled off and discarded, thrown from the pier along with his shirt, floating in the beautiful green-blue nutrient and oxygen rich algae sea. In that moment Ali was beautiful, and John longed to take him home with him, to make him his and only his, but he knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t tear him away from the brothel which he loved. He knew he was there because he loved them. He also knew he could pull him away, if he wanted to, at any time. He sat on the edge of the pier, watching the mineral-scum wash against the shore of the beach, as Ali stood next to him, his golden skin radiant in the faint green-blue glow of the Eco-sigma night. He placed a hand on his leg and told him he loved him, that he needed him, that he could do nothing without him. In the back of his mind, Ali heard the loving messages of his former lovers, the elements of their souls sitting in him where another gene-being of his class would hold the many languages they knew. He was never alone, always with them, and he would do anything for John. But he was a strange person, and wouldn’t do it until he asked him to. Because, he knew, he couldn’t.
John stood up, and kissed Ali passionately, his naked flesh against his rough clothes, his grey jacket and his grey jeans and his white shirt and his black synthetic-leather shoes. He longed to pull Ali’s clothes off him, to lie next to him naked, to swim with him in the beautiful still warm at night sea. He wanted to make passionate love to him for hours, but he knew they didn’t have long. He had to work in the morning, as an assistant to economics in the small economic office in Karlzvil, and that meant he had to sleep. He pushed Ali down on his knees, and felt his lips envelop his perfect, hard cock, his tongue gently stroking the tip, his hands on his hips, his hand upon the back of his perfect dark haired head, his hair held gently between his fingers.
Ali was gorgeous and sexy, and madly in love with John, who had recently travelled to Karlzvil aged thirty-two period-years from a colony called Six-beta-colony-segment-six, or Beta-six-center. The main centre for travel in Colony-district six, a mere four hundred miles from the nearest stable land-based landing point for space-borne vessels, of which there were few enough – the large ocean that covered most of the north-western hemisphere of the planetoid being the more common choice to make planetfall. John would occasionally meet recent de-embarkations from the still-active stations which existed in the system frequently, in his youth, although in his lifetime the landing-site had only been used three times. They were strange people, all so tall and obviously unused to life on planet. John fell in love casually, unlike Ali, who could never fall out of it, but the minute he met him he knew the two young men would be together forever. Because the minute he read log Alpha-colony-resident-six-alpha-beta-six-Ali, he knew he was made for him.
Ali continued to blow him, until he came, and then swallowed the cum, looking up at him passionately and seductively, but also submissively. John grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him up, pulling him close to him and kissing him. He would have to get home soon, but he noticed he had no clothes, so he sat on the pier and drank some of the synth-narcotic with Ali. They spoke deeply for a while about their lives, John’s as a colonist, Ali’s as a gene-engineered sex-animal who had failed to make the grades as even a low-ranking linguistic aide to diplomacy, before John manned up enough to walk naked with Ali through the colony to the home he had been appointed, hard as a rock, Ali’s hands around his hip, along the winding path which led along the coast around the grey stone outcrop at the head of the beach.

The next morning, John woke up next to Ali, the now empty cigaretesque carton sitting on a desk next to his spacious grey-and-white patterned bed. Light flowed in through the tall window that made up one wall of his bedroom, facing away from the sun, which sat high in the sky, so as to catch just enough of it’s grey-brown light and warmth to warm the room. One wall of John’s house was made of glass, the other three synthetic sheet-housing material made mostly from the natural land of Eco-sigma and plastic-synthetic material. One arm of Ali’s was laid across his chest, the hand resting naturally on his shoulder, the other between his legs, his fingers just brushing his asshole. Ali was still asleep, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. John was hungover, and also turned on, but he didn’t want to wake Ali. Ali was gorgeous, so he disentangled him from himself and drank a mini-amphora of synth-narcotic. Ali was entirely naked, his perfect body shining gold in the light, his gold skin with a hint of brown beautiful in John’s eyes. John longed to wake Ali up, to feel his beautiful hands upon his skin, but he knew the adorable little whore needed to sleep. He nudged him, however, and Ali spoke in his sleep. “John, I need you,” he said, before rolling over, his face pressed up against the pillows. John thought back to the conversation they had been having last night, as he pulled on a pair of boxers – about how Ali dreamed, every night, of being a beautiful girl, beneath his own manly hands.
Ali slept beautifully, John thought, as he lay there the covers half exposing his beautiful body and his small, round, perfect ass. John thought that Ali was the hottest guy he had ever seen, as the soft light of morning highlighted and shaded his perfect form. He stirred slightly, and told John how much he loved him, in his dream, and how he loved the other guys still, but how he loved him more than he loved Nate, and Joe, and Alec, and the rest of them. John thought he would wake him up, so he slapped him on the ass, hard. Ali moaned, and rolled over, looking up into John’s eyes. John said to him that he had to get to work, as a colony economic aide. He asked Ali not to go back to work at the brothel, to stay one more day, but Ali couldn’t. He couldn’t bear to be alone, and he needed to be with someone. John said whatever, and he left Ali sitting there alone, naked on the bed, as he pulled on his socks and shoes, and set off for work. He spent the day thinking about Ali, about his perfect cock and his perfect ass, and how he would see him again. Ali loved him, now, he knew, as he had loved everyone he had ever known and made love to. He would be eating some breakfast, getting dressed in his own clothes, his perfect ass showing up tight against his black boxers, his tight jeans accentuating his perfect body, his shirt tight on his slim chest and his perfect hips, his gold skin shining in the light. According to John’s colony-log-system, there would be a landing-vessel holding five-thousand-eight-hundred souls making planet-fall nearby in a few period-weeks, and he was hoping to see it. It would land a hundred miles off the coast, and vessel-sea-craft would carry most of it’s personnel to Port-Alpha-Six-Alpha-Beta-Six-Vessel-Six.
Image-vids of the last planet-fall by a vessel of that class, listed as vessel eight-six-beta-six, were available on the colony network, and they seemed quite beautiful, the vessel falling through the clear blue day-time air of Eco-sigma, the long afterburn showing green-blue in the sky, the vessel landing in a haze of steam on the waters of the western ocean of Eco-sigma, a blue green phosphorecent algae mist filling the air around the vessel. Almost as beautiful as Ali’s tight well-used asshole, his beautiful legs, his perfect cock, his short clipped black pubic hair.
Also on the network were several recently updated Image-vids of the hot young guys of Karlzvil, wild passionate pornographic vids. He looked through them for a few minutes, playing through them on his vidsceen. Young blonde guys with young guys in black boxers, tied up and abused. Young hot guys in girls underwear, sexy and gorgeous. An ancient shot, over a thousand period years old, featured on the front page – a very famous video of a hot young redhead on vessel, used and abused by his beautiful blonde boyfriend. He flicked through them for a while, until he saw one that he liked. It was Ali, entirely naked, sitting on the edge of a white and grey bed jacking off, grey-brown light highlighting his perfect golden form from a window behind him. He wondered for a minute, through the synth-narcotic haze that filled him, when the vid-flick had been shot. Then he looked at the time-date-sig. It was playing live to dozens of system-terminals on planet, and even a few on vessels in orbit. He felt turned on, and as he had time for a break, he thought he would jack off for a while over the gorgeous young gene-bred sex-whore. He watched as his hands played with his short dark pubic hair, stroked the tip of his beautiful cock, and fingered his tight golden asshole. He hoped for a close-up, and he got one, as the screen centred on his tight ass, one hand spreading it apart, another ramming three fingers up the centre, his balls, nicely shaved, and just a bit of hair showing below.
He jacked off until he came, and then got back to work with the colony economics. There were no serious issues, other than a slight shortage of workers in Karlzvil, but they could easily transfer a few of the excess residents of Alpha-colony over to fill the deficit. It was mostly a deficit in the service sector anyway, with a predicted shortfall in the advancement and expansion of the commercial side of the colony – they were hoping to increase the ratio of luxury goods supply to brothels, although privately John thought that the brothels were much more exciting than the potentiality of luxury goods. As was the thought that Ali might still be jacking off on vid-recorder when he got home from work. If he was still there, which he knew for certain he would be. Colony logs were perfect. He finished working on his documents, in his private office, and messaged on his communications system terminal that he would like to head home early to meet a friend. His boss, Mei Se, herself descended from a gene-hybrid station service mathematical scientist of great fame, agreed directly. She mentioned that she had been monitoring his office, to see if the traits of narcotic addiction that had been worrying her were there, and that she thought the guy on the vid-flick was hot. John mentioned his new lover’s private fantasies and dreams, the way he got off on being called Alice in bed, the way he liked taking it up the ass from John, and how he had met him at brothel six two nights ago. He wondered if he should pick up anything on the way home, like a bottle of sex-lube, or maybe some girls underwear – a guy like Ali, John knew, would be into that. He thought back passionately to the hot sex they had been having last night, Ali’s cock in John’s mouth, John’s fingers in Ali’s tight asshole, Ali’s seductive description of the dreams he was having in the back of his gene-engineered mind, of the dreams he was having in which he was a girl, with three of himself on top of him. The dreams that haunted him in his sleep, in the most passionate of ways. The way he had, when John woke up in the middle of the night, been jacking off over a hot sex dream about all of the guys he had been with. John played with his balls a bit while he dreamt, and he moaned softly, saying call me Alice. He grabbed John hard in his sleep, and pulled him close to him, sliding one finger up his tight ass.
He got home from work, having stopped off at a clothing supply depot to pick up a pair of tight white girl’s boxers and a bra, which seemed to fit Ali’s proportions if he had guessed right. He hoped he would still be filming when he got there, but he found him asleep, the vid-recorder disactivated beneath the bed. He climbed into bed with him, and pulled him tight to him, waking him up. “We should take a break from the synth-substances,” he said, “and just have fun. I saw you on the colony-network from work. It was hot. You have a lot of fans, Ali.” He kissed him passionately on his neck and grabbed him by the hip, pulling him close to him, his naked flesh pressed against John’s body, now in counter-point to John’s naked flesh against his clothed body, Ali’s naked flesh was pulled up against John’s work clothes. John told him about the sexy girl’s underwear he had bought for him, and Ali was turned on, his golden skin filled with passion. He rolled out of bed and pulled them on, sitting on the edge of the bed next to John, in the sexually arousing pose he had used earlier. John was excited, and he proposed that they film a vid together, grabbing Ali by the waist. Ali agreed readily – he could do nothing but. So John activated the vid-recorder, pointing towards the window, the vid-image-system centered upon him and Ali, the soft green-blue light of the Eco-sigma night highlighting their features in the darkness, the gene-engineered tropical Eco-trees outside luminescent with algae. Beautiful gene-engineered foliage, as a back-drop to their passionate love and John’s beautiful gene-engineered Ali.
John sat behind Ali, his hands on his hips, his chest pressed up against his back. He pulled off his shirt, and pulled Ali close to him, feeling his warm golden skin on his neck. He felt his pubes beneath the tight black girls boxers he had bought for him, as the vid-recorder filmed their passionate sex, playing live. The mini-screen attached to the vid-recorder showed only two people watching, as they had only placed the vid on a minor personal network used in a far away colony-town. John wasn’t experienced in the field of pornography, unlike Ali, who very much was. Ali was filled with passion, as John played with his shaven balls, sliding another hand down the back of his girls underwear, one finger sliding up his ass. He kissed him passionately on the neck, his chest exposed, the warm air of the Eco-Sigma night surrounding him. He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing, but he knew that he was in love with Ali. He leaned in and whispered in his ear, unsure of what to do next, that he loved him, and asked him for advice. Ali turned his head back towards his and kissed him, his lips against his. John knew what to do. He pushed him forwards, pushing him off the bed, and down to the floor, on his hands and knees. He pulled his girls underwear down, and spread his tight golden ass, sliding one finger up it, and then another. Ali moaned, as John stroked his brown pubes and tousled his short black hair. He began to ram Ali’s hot ass, and wondered what it was like to be him, to dream every night of being three of himself and a girl named Alice.
Ali loved John entirely, and passionately, and would do anything for him. For a few minutes, with the passionate sex they were engaged in, he almost forgot that he had loved others. For a few minutes, he forgot the love he felt for every man he had ever loved, and it was only him and John, together in sexual passion.
John was in love with Ali entirely, unlike Ali, who, while he loved John entirely, could not fall out of love with everyone he had everyone he had every made love to. But while he was with John he was all that mattered. John kept moving in him, his passionate sexual desire driving him deeper and deeper, until he came in Ali’s ass, and pulled himself out, his work-jeans around his knees. Ali looked up, as John spanked him hard on the ass, and rolled him over onto his back. They made out passionately for a while, John jacking Ali off until he came across his beautiful tight muscular golden gut. He stood up, disactivated the vid screen, and pulled Ali up, before lying him down in bed and falling asleep, still half undressed, next to him.

Ali returned to the brothel a few weeks later, because he couldn’t bear to be away from Alec, Joe, and the other hot young barely legal sex-sluts of brothel six. He loved them, as he loved John, but John could not bear to keep him from them. He loved him, but he couldn’t bear the soul-wrenching agony he had to witness as Ali’s passions conflicted. Ali was a tortured creature, but also a beautiful little sex animal, and while he knew he would stay with John for as long as he wanted him to, he also dreamed of, and spoke in his sleep, Joe and Alec and other guys, and in his dreams he was a girl. Ali was a strange sex-whore.
John kept the vid-footage on his personal network terminal, and they had made a few more vids in the time they were together. One night, as they discussed Ali’s childhood, in a far away colony town, while drinking shots of synth-narcotic and vials of semi-synthetic neuro-micro-hallucinogenic psylo-gin™, he had commented that he, like all perfect things, like all perfect nights, had been born inside a vial. That comment, at the time he had said it, had seemed mysterious and seductive to John, as he slid his fingers gently into Ali’s well-used asshole, under the potent effects of the synthetic substances they were taking together. He wondered, sometimes, if there were some way he could save Ali, but he knew it didn’t matter. Ali was himself, and he loved him. He wondered more if there were some way he could be like him, to be a sex-crazed semi-engineered being like him, but he knew he couldn’t. After the last night they were together, when John could see him in agony at being away from the brothel, he promised he would visit him every day for a month, and Ali promised him that he would make sure they didn’t charge. And he kept this promise, having hot passionate three and foursomes with Ali and his beautiful lovers. Ali was made to be a linguist, but he was found to not meet requirements, and so he was free to live his life as he chose. And he chose to be a sex-slut-whore. One night, John mentioned what they knew already – a vessel-fall would be going on. He wasn’t sure whether to ask, as Alec licked Joe’s tight ass and Ali jacked John off with one hand, the other hand squeezing his balls, but he did anyway. He invited Ali to watch vid-footage of the vessel making planet-fall, at his office, together. Ali agreed readily, kissing him passionately on the lips, crushing his balls and jacking him off until he came.
They spent many nights together, over the next few weeks, eagerly discussing in bed the beautiful planet-fall that would be occurring soon. Almost as beautiful as Ali’s hot, tight boy-ass, his hot, perfect legs, his perfect shaved balls, his perfect tight asshole. The perfect moment John felt every night, when he grabbed him and kissed him as he came, or when Alec or Joe would pin him down and ram his ass. He usually wasn’t into rough sex, but Ali loved it, and so he did it.
A week before planet-fall, Ali sat with John on the pier with Joe, naked entirely, in the early morning. They had spent the night smoking cigaretesques and drinking mini-amphora of synth-narcotic, and making passionate love. They had kept their boxers, and the tight black girls underwear Ali had taken to wearing recently, and they lay on a pile at the end of the pier. The rest of their clothes they had thrown in the water with it’s blue-green phosphorescent algeal glow. As they sat there in the early morning light, Ali’s arm wrapped around John, Joe sitting there cross legged jacking off over the two gorgeous guys he was with, they spoke about the upcoming event. Joe had read that the algeal mist effect that filled the air with a green-blue glow haze could sometimes reach even to the distance of Karlzvil. Ali was interested by this, and he made it very obvious that he was interested by John –and also aroused, as one could tell from his hard naked cock. He loved John, and wanted to be with him, and he loved Joe, who loved him and the hot passionate sex he would have with him, and the dreams where he was a girl called Alice, being rammed in every hole by copies of himself. He would jack him off in his sleep, as he moaned and demanded that he ram fingers in him and ride him hard.


Joe came hard thinking about those dreams, and the passionate sex he and Ali had together every night. He loved working at brothel six, making passionate love to his fellow slut-whores, but he was planning on leaving town for Alpha-colony a few period-months later. He wanted to take Ali with him, to make him his own, and he knew if he asked him he would say yes. John loved him, he knew, and Alec was affectionate towards him, but he had a close lover who he slept with for good money every night. Joe had a personal vid-projection system capable of projecting full-dimensional video that he had purchased with his profits the week before, and he jokingly shoved John, who was sitting on the edge of the pier, his legs hanging over the edge, above the beautiful luminescent water. He almost fell, but Ali pulled him back, pushing his naked body back on the pier as Joe activated a vid on the projector system. He jerked off for a while over a video of Ali dressed in a bra and a pair of girl’s boxers, John fingering his ass through a tear in the back and playing with his perfect dark nipples, before moving in close to lick his asshole.
They walked home as the day began to reach an early warmth, naked but for their boxers, Ali’s with a tear in the back where Joe had been ramming his hard man cock earlier on. They spent the rest of the week together, making passionate love and discussing their lives, John working at his office, Ali and Joe spending most of their time at the brothel. The tropical heat of Island Nineteen was beautiful, and the time they spent together more so. John stopped in every evening for sex, and for that next week he managed to convince Ali to spend time alone with him, engaging in hot passionate one on one soul to soul sex.
On the expected day of planet-fall, John sat next to Ali dressed in his work clothes, Ali dressed in a borrowed outfit, dark grey pants with a girls cut, girl’s underwear underneath, and a tight fitting white shirt with a pair of black shoes. His clothes were much too revealing to wear to a work function, John thought, although they were sexy as hell, and he had wanted to. They sat together talking passionately and romantically, until the point at which the lights dimmed in the small analytic-auditorium, and a voiceover speaking in system-language-six-four-alpha-six-system-four, a language used for communication across the system, announced that planet-fall was about to begin. The screen, which had prior shown an ocean beneath a blue-green sky, blacked out for a minute, showing a shot of the vessel rendered as it would be seen side on in orbit, if it could be seen in orbit. The screen cut to a shot of the planetary object from space, as John slid his hand into Ali’s boxers, hoping nobody would notice but knowing most of his colleagues would. He jacked him off slowly, as the auditorium vid-screen played a long video of life on planet, as a system brief file played regarding the activities of the vessel in vessel-system code and a number of languages. Languages which Ali could not speak, that he had been made to speak, but which he had never been able to speak. Ali spoke only his native language, the basic language of Eco-sigma, and the language of sex. He kissed John on his neck, and pulled himself close to him, sliding his hand down the back of his boxers and sliding a finger up John’s ass. They made out, and John jacked him off until he came, unashamed, in his girls boxers. The vid-screen continued to play, until it cut to a shot from the water’s surface – a shot of a long after-burn, a long blue-white tail of fire falling through the sky above. The screen centre followed the trail for a while, as the massive space vehicle fell from the sky above, until it landed screaming on the waters surface, hovering two hundred feet above – a large steamy crater appearing in the water below, as the waters parted and reformed to a smooth surface beneath the burning hot surface of the steel grey and white vessel. The air around the vessel glowed blue-green, as the algae filled steam dissipated – a cloud of beautiful fluorescent cloud-like vapour, thick in the air around the vessel, in places tinted white, in places a more deep blue. Landing craft disembarked, waterborne, from the vessel, and as the crowd continued to watch Ali took the initiative. He grabbed John by the arm, surprising him as he was half asleep on his shoulder, and pulled him up. “Let’s go,” he said, “I need to be with you. We can watch the rest of this later.”
“Why?” John asked. “I’m enjoying this too much.”
“Weren’t you listening?” Ali asked John, “As the vessel makes planet-fall, the heat of the re-entry will, the vid said, cause a large dispersal-cloud of blue-green glow algae. I want to be outside, making love to you, when it begins to settle.”
John agreed readily, sliding his arm around Ali, placing his hand on his hip. Ali led him outside, sliding one hand down the back of his jeans, past the brothel and John’s house, along the winding path to the little beach on the south coast of the island. They walked along the beach, as the first drifting tendrils of algea-mist began to float over the island. John lay Ali down and kissed him passionately, his hands inside his tight jeans, his fingers stroking his tight asshole, his golden skin warm beneath his hands. Ali pulled John’s shirt off, tearing off most of the buttons. He pulled him close to him, knowing that he loved him entirely, that he wanted him desperately. They continued to kiss passionately, as John pulled Ali’s jeans down, tearing off his tight personally-tailored girls boxers, sliding his fingers up his ass, two, then three, then four, then lifting his perfect golden naked legs, spreading his ass and driving it hard with his perfect cock. He loved him entirely, but he could not make him be with him, as he could not bear to see him alone. Ali was a strange being, and he fell in love and never fell out of it, despite the fact that he had so many lovers. He moaned softly, the mist falling as a soft rain, leaving streaks of phosphorescent algae across their skin, soaking them in a warm, wet rain. The vessel would currently be disembarking water-craft, John knew, and he wondered what it would be like for the space-people arriving for the first time for their new lives on Eco-sigma. They would be strangely out of place, he knew, like the few strange new arrivals he had met in his youth far away, in the colony-town of his birth. As out of place as he was with Ali, he knew. As the town, and the beach, began to glow, as the algae-laden water began to settle, he knew he had to be with Ali forever, and he knew what he had to do to make them both happy. He, like so many other of the disaffected youth of Island Nineteen, had decided to quit his job in the economic-colony office of Karlzvil, and take his earnings, and settle down with Ali and the other hot slut-whore’s of brothel six.

It was a hot, steamy day in Colony-beta-es-sigma-ex-eco-segment-four, a budding colony city of forty-thousand. Richard Baker was hot and steamy also, sitting by the small reservoir lake outside the city, with a shot of synthetic semi-gin. Entirely naked. With Michael, his hot young lover. He had picked Michael up in a bar in town, and invited him back to his apartment, on the fifth floor of a five-story hab-building – the penthouse apartment of the hab-building. Richard was one of the colony’s richer residents, working as a mathematician in a communications office dealing with the vessels that would frequently communicate with the city’s directorial landing-control center. Michael was fascinated to learn this, as he sipped his drink, and Richard was fascinated with Michael, his hard chest sweating in the hot desert sun. There were few lakes this far out in the desert, but it was a useful locale, as there was a vessel landing sight only two hundred miles away. The tremors could be felt every landing, although there had not been one for twenty years. The lake, a cool grey-blue under the desert sun, was cool enough, as they had found swimming in it earlier, and covered in a light layer of algae – the reddish brown algae that occurred further inland, and speckled with small grey-red lily-type flowers. It was a curio, used rarely for that purpose on Eco-Sigma, as star-power-energy was much cheaper and readily used. But the research potential was limitless, the scientists of the planetary-object believed. As was Richards relationship with Michael. He looked at Michael passionately, thinking on this matter, his fingers gently playing with his short black pubic hair, carefully caressing the base of his small but manly cock. Richard loved Michael, as they sat together naked by the reservoir lake, drinking their semi-gin and making passionate love. Michael was in a relationship when they met, and as far as the girl he was with knew, he still was. But Richard knew better. They were not happy together, he knew, and he wanted to move him in with him. Michael was young, and not particularly rich, living in a basic hab-building on the edge of the colony, working in bars when he could get the work, and not at all when he could not. Richard wanted to move him in with him, and make him happy. And his partner, Sarah, would be better off without him – he noticed she had a thing for girls more than guys, and he knew a lot of girls wanted her. They were just having a fling as they found their feet in the world of Eco-sigma Colony-beta-four.
Michael pulled Richard in close to him, and made out with him passionately, pushing him flat on the ground, his skin warmed by the sandy-silty soil of the desert. He pushed his chest down, feeling his warm young skin under the desert sun, and made passionate love to him, jacking him off gently, playing with his soft, lightly haired tanned balls. They would come out here to this lake, just outside the city, most days, as Richard had been placed on a lighter work schedule recently, requiring him to work only in the mornings and for two full days a period week. The evenings were his own, as were the nights. Nights that he frequently spent with Michael, in bars in Colony-beta-four, at his penthouse apartment, or making passionate love to him here by the reservoir lake.
Richard could not bear to be without Michael, who loved him dearly and entirely, passionately and totally. He loved him. He needed him. He wanted him, and he knew he couldn’t be without him. He wanted to break him up from Sarah, and set her up with a girl who could look after her, and have Michael to himself. He could move him in with him, and make love to him. He wanted him, and he needed him.
The brown soil, with it’s reddish-brown scrub bushes, and the tall tropical trees growing in the hills around the reservoir lake, covered their skin with a layer of dirt, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that they were together. Michael pulled away from Richard, and mixed a few shots of semi-gin with a flavoured synthetic fruit compound that had been grown in a vat in one of the great food-production centers in Colony-beta-four. He had picked it up from a store in town, with some of the money he had. Few homes in Colony-beta-four had serious food production capacity, as most of the food consumed at this phase of development was vat-grown and as such all a colonist needed to do was open the packaging and heat it, although there were some colony towns near the coast developing some serious agricultural capacity, which were not only self-sufficient, but capable of exporting meat, dairy, and vegetable’s to most of the local area. Michael and Richard had eaten some fine quality preserved lamb, with thick sliced bread made from colony-grown wheat and colony-produced milk, and spoken passionately and romantically about their new found love. Michael was young, tanned, slim, and gorgeous, unlike Richard, who was slightly older, but still found himself quite attractive, his hair cut short, dyed blonde to conceal the flecks of grey.
They had afterwards, drunk on semi-gin and white wine from the vineyards at Colony-sigma-ex-alpha-port-agri-four, stumbled home to Richard’s apartment, pulling each other’s clothes off in the elevator leading up to his apartment making passionate love to each other. Michael loved Richard, but Richard intimidated him, as he was so much older, richer, and working in such a highly prestigious field. But Richard wouldn’t take no for an answer, so he rammed Michael hard up the asshole, making him moan for more. He knew he had him in his power.
They lay together on the rich white sheeted bed, with it’s golden frame, as Richard rammed Michael hard and fast, until Michael couldn’t take it any more. He knew he had the one – he was in a relationship that he could be in, and he took Richard up on his offer to move him in with him. He loved him, and he knew it. Richard looked him in the eye and told him he knew he could, yes. He finished up, came in his ass and pulled out, and jacked him off hard until he came, his white cum staining the white sheets of Richards freshly made bed. He wasn’t happy with Sarah anyway – they were just having some fun while they got their lives on track. They didn’t have to pay for their housing, as they were living in public accommodation, but Michael knew that he would be happy to move into Richard’s beautiful apartment, and according to the colony’s policy Sarah would be able to keep the place, a one room dwelling with a small shower and a bathroom, near to a nice restaurant-cafeteria which served most of the colony-district where they were living. She would be happier with someone else, he knew, and Richard had mentioned that he knew a few girls were after her. She didn’t love him, he knew, but he would miss her small, slight build.
Michael had a few misgivings at first in his relationship with Richard, but he loved him, and he couldn’t bear, after only a few period-weeks, to be without him. Sarah missed him, he noticed, but she was happy to see him happy. And she was happy with the two young, well endowed girls, Mei and Sandra, who Richard had set her up with. They maintained a close friendship, and the occasional glance was shared, but Michael and Richard were happy together, and the sex was never-ending. Michael had always expected he would end up in a relationship with a man, after his early experiences with the young men and women of the colony-city, where he had been born. His family, having left town together a few years prior, were, he assumed, happy – seeking to spend the later years of their life in more fertile lands, or in a port by the sea. Michael had stayed behind, with the few funds they had left him, to seek his fortune as an only child in the city of Colony-beta-four.
One night, after an afternoon of passionate sex in Richard’s spacious apartment, Michael and Richard were in a small bar-restaurant near Richard’s office, drinking alone. Michael was quite drunk on wine, grown in the vineyards along the coast. He had little contact with his parents, who he supposed were living happy enough lives – they were very busy together, and he could barely afford to use public comms systems to talk to them – although he received the occasional contact request, and he hoped that if his relationship with Richard went well he would be able to talk to them more freely. He had a box of letters at home, and he had received a vid-message a few period-months prior from them in their new home on the edge of an Agri-colony™ along the trail leading to the coast. While aerial travel was much more energy-efficient, the number of high-velocity vessels that could be maintained by a colony the size of Colony-beta-four was limited, so they had travelled by land on a geo-refined oil-sand-fuel vehicle, a cheap and efficient fuel source fueling a micro-multi-combustion engine. He was wondering when he would receive another message, and if he should maybe send them a brief five minute message across the colony-network comm-system, but he decided against it as he had not much in the way of money, and he didn’t want to ask Richard to pay so early in his relationship with him. He was sure he would find work soon enough, as most colonists did before their thirtieth period-year.
Michael ate a steak, reared on planet, paid for from Richard’s personal account, while Richard merely sipped a cold synthetic-fruit-semi-gin cocktail, laced with synth-narcotics, and watched him. His life was perfect again – he had broken up from his last relationship over a period-year prior, and was happy to be with someone again. All that time alone, jacking off morosely over vid-recordings playing on his apartment screen, hot guys in the nude, jacking off together, recent shots of colonists making passionate love, life aboard vessel, shower sex, sex by the beach, an archaic home movie of a golden-skinned dude being rammed hard by his hot colonist lover, things like that.
Since Michael had come into his life, Richard had been having a lot more fun. He was enjoying work again, not feeling alone, and he knew Michael was happy with him also. Michael was just finishing his steak when a hot young dude, with slightly long hair, dark with a small red patch dyed above one eye, wearing a very stylish outfit, the kind you’d see in the richer, more urban cities by the coast, far away from this desert landing-control-center colony.
He sat down next to Michael, and looked over at him. “I’m new in town, and you two seem to be nice enough,” he said, “I’ve been staying with a friend, until I can get requisition authority to approve myself a hab-residential permit. I could do with getting to know a few people. How do you do?” His jacket was black, with some red embroidery around the seams, with a white shirt beneath, and a pair of black pants made from what appeared to be synthetic fabric. His black shoes were synthetic leather, he mentioned, as he wasn’t quite rich enough to buy the real thing.
Richard looked annoyed, but the look in the young mans eyes, a look of friendship, overwhelmed him. He needed a friend, he knew. He bought them all a drink, and a package of potent synth-delerient-stimulant cigaresques to share between them. He asked the young traveller his name – Micah, the young dude replied. Richard thought his hair was gorgeous, and his perfect dark eyes perfectly complemented the light shade-pigment that was barely noticeable in the small bar-restaurants soft light. His tight ass, visible through his jeans dark fabric, was the hottest thing Richard had seen since he first met Michael. They chatted for a while, smoking the cigaresques and drinking shots of semi-gin and colony-grown wine. The wine was expensive, but Richard had a large ration-allowance, as he was a fine comms mathematical assistant, and he was easily able to afford it. It was also strong, and they were enjoying their time together. Starch-carbohydrate substances could be produced easily and palatably in the colony’s production centers, and when sliced correctly could easily be fried to make some of the most delicious fried foods available in the colony. Richard grabbed Michael and said, quietly, “We could get to know this guy better. He’s new to town, and he seems interesting.” Michael contemplated the opportunities with this guy, and the fact that there was plenty of room for three in Richard’s spacious, well lit apartment. He seemed cute, and his body was perfect, as was his slight angled shaded face. Michael wondered what he did for a living, and asked – Micah replied that he was a recent descendant of a space-vessel, and as such felt out of place on Eco-sigma. He had studied classified sciences, and was hoping to take up a post in the city as an educative agent, or perhaps if he couldn’t, a cultural relations agent. Although, he had received a few job offers at this point. Michael, in a synthetic fuled haze, thought about making a few offers towards him, of a very sexual nature. Richard, noticing this, thought he’d like to do much the same. He loved Michael, and Micah seemed interesting, his dark skin and exotic accent betraying a foreign ancestry, an ancestry entirely alien to Eco-sigma. An ancestry of outside space that Richard needed to study in every way, and which Michael needed to make passionate love to.
They ate for a while longer, and had a few more drinks, before walking out into the warm desert night. Micah was keeping his cards close to his chest at this point, sexually enticing the two of them as the slight aphrodisiac qualities of the cigaresques - branded Apollo-sigma-ex – began to take hold in the three of them. Michael had chosen the brand, and he hoped that this secret was something that was unknown to the two of them. Very little else was. But, as they fell further into a sexual daze, this was.
They walked a while through the warm desert night, before stopping at a small grassy area, with a water fountain in the center of it. Michael sat down, feeling slightly drunk, but not overly so. They sat together and spoke for a while, about the colony and what it was like for Micah, who was new to town. Micah, not being used to drinking wine of the strength that was available on Eco-sigma, and not having the ancestral tolerance that develops in drinkers, was more drunk than the other two of them. They sat together and spoke for a while, before Micah, drunk and making the first move, pinned Richard down and kissed him passionately. Michael felt left out, but Richard grabbed his hand and pulled him close. Micah, the recent space-immigrant, slid a hand in his boxers, drunk, and passionately turned on by his new friends. He loved them both immediately, as they were signs of the new world, the world on which he had been born, the strange and beautiful world of Eco-sigma. As they made love, he mentioned that he had studied with scientists from his vessel, which had travelled for a year from station eight carrying his parents and six thousand other new residents, the radical new science of crypto-mathematical-spatial-linguistics, among other radical space-sciences that were being introduced to the planet. Over-awed, Richard invited him to his office the next day, or whenever he felt like it, to talk to his colleagues about his foreign background and training. He agreed, but promised that the rest of his secrets would remain his own until the point at which he gained approval to discuss them. He loved the two of them there, more than he had loved anyone else in the world.
They made passionate sexual love on the grass, in the desert night, concealing themselves behind the large ornamental fountain, Michael’s pants and boxers around his ankles, Micah’s fingers sliding into his tight asshole, Richard jacking him off sexually and passionately. The water was cool, even if there was a slight red algae scum floating around the edges of the large fountain basin. Micah longed to sit in it, he said drunkenly, and make love to the pair of them, but according to the colony-legal-policies of Colony-Beta-Four, sex in public water decorations was an offence which could hold a maximum term of two weeks in jail. It came up rarely, but strangely enough it did on occasion. You’d sometimes see young couples, new to town, sitting there with their legs in this very fountain, holding hands or even sliding fingers into each other, and the colony’s policing division took it seriously enough.
Micah didn’t care, being new to town, and new to arrest procedures, and so he grabbed Michael, more sober than himself, and dragged him in headfirst, pinning him down and ramming himself into his hot tight asshole. Richard was confused, but also aroused, and watched them together in a friendly passionate way. Michael felt the cool water on his skin, so used to life on Eco-sigma. Micah was madly in love with him already, and trying to keep cool, unused to the potent wine and cigaresques of Eco-sigma Colony-Beta-Four, and not holding the ancestral tolerance that Michael and Richard held. He knew he loved Michael, but he didn’t want to make him choose. He thought he’d just have a quick romance with the young couple, and then move on, or take up work in one of the many offices in the city that had offered him a post. He spent a few minutes in the fountain, the cool desert fountain, with Michael, his hands spreading his legs apart, as he fucked and licked Michael’s tight asshole in the cool water. Richard interceded after a while, pulling them out of the water – they would be arrested, he knew, if the policing division responsible for this colony-district passed. Michael dressed quickly, and Micah did the same, the water staining his white shirt, and drenching his black pants. But he didn’t care – he was in love, and high on cigaresques, semi-gin, and colony-grown wine. They walked back to Richard’s apartment together, arm in arm, and staggered into the freight elevator that carried them to the fifth floor, and Richard’s penthouse apartment.
Michael pulled Micah out of his wet clothes when they got in, and he didn’t see the need to redress. He pulled him down on the floor, and pulled his boxers down, parting his tight ass and ramming two fingers in it. Michael was quite sober by that point, the water having sobered him up, but he was still slightly drunk, and another cigaresque would make him more so. He was having a hot night, and he shared Richard’s excitement at the new arrival’s mysterious training. It was also a violation of colony-legal-policies to interrogate people holding private information, more so when vessel related, but it wasn’t illegal to drug them, when in relationships. Richard knew this, and while Michael couldn’t do much, he could feel him up in his sleep and ask him questions – they had a few out-dated methods for doing that that he could use as much as he wanted to, as long as he could confirm to the interview police agent that he was violating no policies or procedures, and that he was in a relationship for other reasons. And, by measure of legal technicality, he could state he was.
After about half an hour of passionate sex, Michael came, his white cum staining the synthetic sand-vinyl floor of the apartment. Micah pulled out, feeling exhilarated but more sober, and lay back on the floor next to him, his arm around him. It was hot out here in the desert, and dry, not as humid as on the islands off the coast, where Micah’s parents had disembarked, before they started their long journey to a port by the sea, named Port-Colony-Sigma-Ex-Sigma-Exf-Major, or Port-Sigma-Major. Micah mentioned this, so Richard grabbed a large container of synthetic fruit-juice and a bottle of semi-gin, and invited him up the staircase, with Michael, in an corner of the sleeping-living area of his apartment – a room which they had not even had time to enter, in the heat of passion. There was a small water basin in the corner of the balcony, hidden perfectly between two large pillars, one holding a small alcove of Richard’s apartment – so much larger than the still well-sized hab-building that Michael had shared with Sarah. Michael sat down and drank some fruit juice and a shot of semi-gin, as Richard pinned Micah down and jacked him off passionately, until he came across his tan, taught, skinny gut.
Micah fell asleep a few period-hours later, and Richard demanded Michael fall asleep downstairs. Michael agreed reluctantly, pulling his boxers on and also Micah’s shirt, which they had brought with them to some intent, unbuttoned. He sat down, activated an ancient porn-vid on the vid-screen, and lay back in bed, feeling hot and in love.
Richard waited until Micah was deep asleep, and then he playfully knocked his stomach and pulled him close to him. He asked about his project, wondering what he could get, and how well trained Micah was to conceal information in his sleep. “Girl,” Micah replied. “Are you dreaming about girls?” Richard asked him playfully. He hadn’t had time to ask many questions before he dragged him in for this passionate night of sex. “I’m a girl,” Micah replied. That seemed hot enough. “You like girls?” Richard asked Micah. “No,” he replied, his hand moving along his leg, “I’m a girl.”
Hot, Richard thought, he’s having a dream. He wondered if he should set him up with a girl, but thought better of it – sometimes dudes like that didn’t like that, he knew. Most of them didn’t, honestly, atleast those he had been in relationships with. He thought he’d probe him a bit further, before moving onto the more seductive side of this personal and slightly impromptu personnel exam. “What do you look like?” Richard asked Micah. Micah moved his other hand to Richard’s thigh, feeling him gently. “I’m a girl,” he said, “and you’re gorgeous.” Richard was amused. He played games with the sleeping space-immigrant scientist for a while, gently toying with his pubic hair and asking him pointed questions, receiving in response sexy comments about his manly body and his perfect new lover. He tried a few questions and prodding remarks that had worked well on other people of spatial descent, before hitting on something good. He found methods designed for an archaic personnel conditioning system got something telling. “The language is sex. The language is six-four-beta-alpha. The word is love, the word is vessel meeting vessel. The word is language development systems. The word is six-four-beta-colony-project-science.” He was almost as exhilarated as he was aroused. He thought he’d best stop there, if he were sane, so he left Micah under his beautiful jacket, pulling his own boxers on to the sexy young space-immigrant scientist, who at this point had begun to jack off in his sleep. He fetched a blanket from his sleeping-area, and left him there with a packet of low-potency sober-cigaresques, laced with light anti-intoxicants, next to him, and fell asleep next to Michael, hugging his lover and wondering at the mathematics behind the fairly complex code he had gained from his new lover, and hopefully new liason-employee, in his sleep.

Work at the office, working on his math projects, was strange in the period-days and period-weeks it took for Micah to finally agree to finalise a date to meet with his director, a fiery young redhead named Clare. He was a strange fellow, having been raised with customs so foreign that Michael and Richard could barely understand. He leaked them some information, and Clare approved further clearance for Richard to ask, and for Micah it was not a matter of clearance – it was a matter of something he referred to as spatial-linguistic-scientific ethical release policies. His parents, as well as his immigration-group, had disembarked on a large-populace landing vessel, vessel sigma-ex-eco-six-beta-one, using call-sign vessel Beta-One, sixty period years prior, from a position in orbit around a small spatial object in assosciation with station eight, a large research station holding hundreds of thousands of people. They had been a young couple then of course, only twenty years old the pair of them, and he himself was approaching his twenty-fifth year. He had left the colony-town, and it’s educative centre training in the high-level sciences that were in development in station’s in spatial positions. Richard was fascinated by the seemingly trivial, but to a mathematician working on communications entirely essential information Micah gave over, and he longed erotically every day at work, as he worked on his personal projects, to make it home to see him and learn more. Michael, while he was away, made love to the beautiful young space-immigrant.
The sex was hot and passionate, Michaels hands on Micah’s flat, perfect stomach, Micah jacking Michael off, ramming his hard space immigrant cock up Michael’s tight asshole, drinking semi-gin and semi-vodka in the desert heat. It was hard to get a penthouse apartment in Colony-Beta-Four, but Michael was hard for Richard, and he was with him forever. And, hopefully, Micah. He dropped hints privately that he might have to move on, but privately Michael thought he could make him stay. Richard had the credit and capacity to lead, and also to lead men. He had had so many partners, but so few, he mentioned one night, in the cool breeze that occasionally flowed over his roof-top balcony, that was so rarely accessed by other residents of the five-storey apartment block that he lived in. Clare wanted to approve a meeting, but Micah was holding off. He made no calls out, and rarely left the apartment, and also was rarely seen with a shirt on. He had come with only what he could carry, and that was a small case containing a few clothes and a small vid-device, projection-screen-type. Projection-screens were rare on planet, and Richard himself, despite his highly prestigious position, could not afford or requisition one. The entry-cyphers for the device were something Richard would not steal, as he respected his hot young space-immigrant’s privacy, and further because personnel-directorship agent Paul - who’s night-dark skin Richard longed for, despite the fact that he noticed he was in a committed relationship with his girlfriend and future wife Sera, which he would never interfere with – had not ordered Clare to approve a search. Despite the fact that Paul was gorgeous, he respected Sera. He also respected Micah, and his hot taut space immigrant body, and his hot space-immigrant ass, and his perfect space-immigrant sex skills, and the way he rammed his tight Eco-Sigma born ass with his hot space-immigrant cock. Micah agreed, eventually, to be interviewed, at Richard’s office, one night in the heat of a wild passion. The light synth-stimulants they were taking together, the three of them, added a haze of sexual frenzy to the already sweaty desert night. Micah had two fingers in Michael’s tight asshole, as Richard pinned him down, his tongue in his mouth, his hands spreading his ass. Micah loved Michael, and loved him more than anything. He could tell that Richard did also. He respected Richard, and was interested by him, and his perfect body. He had a message to carry, a message he was sure the upper ranks would have received already, but he also had scientific briefs to give, he explained, to Richard, as Michael moaned passionately, his body pressed against the cool white sheets of Richard’s bed. Richard was hot, and Micah knew it – but he would not give in so easily. He loved Richard, and desired him. Richard was gorgeous, but also compelling – the mathematics of Eco-Sigma and Station Eight were radically different, and spatial-mathematical-linguistics in the development of spatial colony languages was a fascinating science. As were Micah’s eyes, as Michael stared into them, and Richard licked his tight little space-immigrant gut, and jacked off his perfect small but hard cock. They stayed up late together one night, as Michael seductively convinced Richard to trim his pubic hair, until there was only a light stubble, to match the light stubble that grew on his face in the hot desert nights. Richard knew, and Micah knew, that soon a message would be relayed that had been processing for several period-years, on a highly classified communications station, in a far away spatial position. Micah intended to tell Richard what Richard already knew – that the final message had been compiled and completed, and final briefs were ready for planetary body distribution and dissemination. His office would receive a vid-screen broadcast, and update, and a brief on ongoing events in the further galactic district-spatial-region in which the star-segment sat. Richard intended to interview Micah for ongoing events, and further activity in his own district-region of the greater Sigma-Eco continent-object, and to confirm that the young space-immigrant knew as he did that the message was valid and complete. Michael intended only to engage in further passionate love affairs with the two hot young scientists, one a space-immigrant, the other a colony-descent mathematician. He was in on the broadcast vaguely, but the classification and secrecy behind the incoming message, the first to reach Sigma-Eco in his lifetime, meant that he knew only that it would be arriving at some point in future. His close, passionate, and sexual relationship with Richard, and his ongoing lust for the mysterious and entirely foreign to his own soul Micah, and the minor love-triangle that was developing as the passionate and entirely vague but implicative conversations went on between them, their lips meeting, their hands pulling at each other clothes in the more passionate moments, as Michael watched and only got the vicarious joy of jacking off over the two of them together in the more scientific moments of their personal personnel interviews.
Richard and Micah debated and discussed the method of their relationship, and the priority of the meeting was not high for Micah. He had travelled to the colony-city for scientific purposes, but also for purposes of personal self-enrichment, and to get away from the new and entirely strange locale of his birth – a port town on the coast, and the surrounding colonies, around which he would spend his days in childhood with friends both colony-born space-immigrants and of colony descent. This far into the desert, at the foot of a small mountain ridge, Colony-Beta-Four had been his final destination – the end of a sexual and passionate journey that had led him along a long trail, in a number of colony-sigma-vehicle-transit-vehicles, stopping at a number of colony-towns, agri-colony-towns, and agri-centres, prospect-colony-centers, and fuel-center-colonies, until he reached his final destination, Colony-Beta-Four, and settled down for a few days with a beautiful young man who he had been making love to over a vid-network on the local-colony-net. His meeting with Michael and Richard had been unplanned, but the hot hard-core anal that followed had been entirely passionate and sexy. As had the mad passionate love affair that had followed between the three of them, and the passionate but covert discussions he and Richard had shared on the rooftop balcony-terrace of Richard’s apartment.
Food was different this deep into the desert, but in a new and beautiful world like Sigma-Eco, a world full of opportunities, a new world for the post-humanity that had emigrated across the stars at this point in the differentiating species of the human ethnos great expansion. He, he knew as a child of space, sat on a world of new opportunities on the edge of the era and vast reach of the various peoples of mankind.
The upcoming message, the first to be profiled for wide-scale planetary-object dissemination on Eco-Sigma for fifty period-years, was something he wanted to see in a colony-town or colony-city where he could start a new life, and the communications center in Colony-Beta-Four was perfect. As was Thomas, the hot young guy he had been living with for a few days before he met Michael and Richard, who he missed, who would only be with guys, but who in his private communiqués mentioned that he dreamed, literally, of being a hot young girl under Micah’s hot tanned lightly muscled, perfectly shaped form, of doing everything he wanted to, and letting Micah use and abuse him as much as he needed to. But by the time he arrived, the love in their relationship had passed, and what was left was sex. Sex, and the pictures of his dark skinned, light thinly dreadlocked hair that sat on his head, in the style of so many ancient cultures, of so many ancient worlds, his perfect pitch-black eyes, his beautiful features, and his strikingly perfect form. Not to mention the shots of his spread ass, and his perfect cock, his legs pressed tightly together beneath his slight gut and his perfect chest. That, a few personal scientific recordings, and a collection of personal letters and memoirs were all that he really had. He had wanted to start a new life, out in the desert, over a thousand miles from the port-colony where he had been born, and he had found what he had been looking for, here with Michael and Richard.
It was a long walk through the colony-city, to the long access road that passed by the edge of the colony-city, and a short walk past that, to get to the desert reservoir lake that Richard and Michael had made passionate love at so many period-weeks prior, but the three lovers took that walk many times, in the time before the broadcast, in the time before the interview that Micah eventually acceded to approve with Richard’s office, along the dirt-packed and sand-compact-material that burned so hot under the desert sun, so hot that they could feel it through the thick synth-leather of their shoes. They sat together by the reservoir-lake, fresh to drink and only slightly salty with the taste of residual minerals, the red-algae scum on the surface easily broken to swim together in the nude. Micah, on their first visit together, commented on how it was a beautiful thing to see, like nothing he had seen before in his life, in the mountainous hills outside colony-beta-four. They made passionate love together that day for hours, Richard dominant in their relations as he was in all things in his life, Michael’s body beneath him, his skin pressed hard against the sandy desert dirt. Micah watched, entranced not only by Michael, not only by Richard, but by the lake itself, and the beautiful world in which he had been born, in which he lived, the world in which everything was new for him, and everything strange to him. Micah loved the lake as much as he loved himself, and that day he knew he would stay there, at Colony-Beta-Four, and that he would never leave. He knew his liason with Michael and Richard was short-term, but that their relationship would be lifelong, as he sat there, his boxers pulled around his ankles, the hot desert sun and the warm desert water filling him with awe and wonder at the world in which he lived. Michael’s face, his lips parted slightly, shone with sweat, not due to the sunlight shining on them, but due to the passion of the hardcore anal which he was having with Richard, Richard driving his hard cock deep into his tight asshole, his teeth biting at his neck, his tongue gently licking his salty skin, slightly metallic-tasting with the high mineral-content of the air and water of planetary-object Sigma-Eco. He came eventually, inside Michael’s perfect pale-but-tanned ass, before pulling out, his lover panting on the sand, waiting for his own release. Micah came himself, jacking off, a few minutes later. He rarely told people, but in his youth he had learned to control his orgasms, and could in-fact cum on command.
Micah approved a meeting with Clare a few period-days prior to the expected final broadcast to the office, and arrived early in the morning, with Richard, dressed in a slightly more formal grey shirt, grey synth-fabric slacks he has purchased in the colony-city, and the red-embroidered black jacket he had been wearing when he met Richard and Michael, in a town he had stopped at en-route to Beta-Four, a small waypoint in the desert, less than three-thousand in size. Richard was wearing a white shirt, under a standard grey uniform jacket, and Clare was dressed the same way, her shirt slightly unbuttoned. Richard and Clare’s relationship had never passed the stage at which they would begin considering a relationship of a more personal nature, and Richard rarely slept with women anyway – he loved men, and not women. Micah found her interesting, in a quiet way, but also found her career fascinating. They finalised and arranged an introductory proposal for later meetings, before getting to know each other, drinking shots of synthetic semi-vodka, and a vial each of strong narcotic substance. A few segments of the preliminary network broadcast were available, and they watched introductory conversations between the staff of a spatial-relations office stationed on planetary-body Sen-Eco-Vi, a small satellite-body in hub-system six-one-alpha, in awe together, Richard pulling Micah close to him and wishing that he could have gained approval to invite Michael also. Micah had seen vid’s like this before, but none so recent – it was awe-inspiring to think that these were message sent across the vast gulf of space to them, and more so to think that, for the first time in his life-time he was seeing footage of people from distant systems who were currently alive.
The mathematics behind the system were simple – Richard passionately and enlightenedly described his job, a boring but exhilarating series of calculations and graph-related analyses, as his hands slid into Micah’s mysterious, dark-tan space-boxers, his hands spreading his ass, as Clare looked on boredly, more fascinated by the broadcast than the two hot young scientists. She had started her career as a personnel-interview staff profiler, but now worked in directorship of this office. There were higher ranking offices in the colony-city, and more prestigious, but it was a great mark of pride for her to have been granted the post at such a young age. Michael and Micah made love, as the preliminary vid-flicks played, as Clare and a few other office-staff sat about drinking and smoking from an open pack of flavoured cigaresques. As night fell, and the soft-green-blue glow of the gas-giant planet above which Eco-Sigma sat in a stationary orbit, turning gently in the deep of space, final approval came through to watch crucial message segments. It had taken thirty-period years to profile this message, in the outside-space of the system, and in facilities and offices on Eco-Sigma, and the message it’self was older than that, but people lived longer on more established worlds, and the majority of the faces seen in the broadcast, and the majority of scientists responsible for the development of it would be alive, even if they were in their old age. The messages ranged from briefings on ongoing events, to requests for information on ongoing events on Sigma-Eco and assosciated space in system-Sigma-Alpha-system-ex-one-three. A highly classified broadcast, which Micah was expecting, which Richard had received no brief on, was spliced in – marked “Brief-crucial-system-vessel-system-colony, confidential for limited release.” Clare, with the authority to access, activated the cypher-code-system that would allow the broadcast. A brief shot of some new model of space-transit vehicle played, before playing a brief encrypted message – “Six-beta-alpha-begin-message-sigma-eco, regarding colony system transit system, further en-route, think you have another two, station research finds update viable. Test-pattern-non-issue, viable for colonisation Sigma-Zed/Sigma-Beta, begin cypher-none-direct, verbal-dictate. Further material is en-route for colonisation of planetary objects Sigma-Zed and Sigma-Beta, have found viable with more recent methods, small crew complement, large vessel-system en-route, numbers not disclosable, less than one million personnel. Should arrive in no more than five hundred period-years, Sigma-Eco-standard, no less than that either. Hope you’re doing well, hope language gap translates, hope your systems are working well. End message, beta-six-alpha-hub-system-message, should have you up to scratch within a short while.” A cheer went up around the room, as the message completed and the broadcast-segment flicked to a brief on vessels and materiel en route, as well as briefs on new methods and interesting events not for public release, as well as a heart-felt thanks for all information and also some personal comments on the hot porn that they had sent over. Richard pulled his hands out of Micah’s slacks, pinned him down, and kissed him passionately, as Clare and the rest of the staff of the office’s lounge sat and drunkenly discussed the exciting new news. Clare sent a spatial-graviton-communications-mathematician named Mark out to fetch them some more high quality, powerful cigaresques, maybe narcotic or psylo-hallunicinogenic, and a large crate of real quality synth

The passion of a fallen empire (a fantasy-erotica)
Vasi and his board.
It was early morning, and Vasi sat alone, on the terrace of his home, a small building on the edge of the town. It was a cool morning, and he was still recovering from the hangover he had developed two days prior, drinking cheap cups of high-proof grain alcohol with Aliesi, his confidant and closest friend in the world, and dreaming drunkenly of a night of passion which due to Aliesi’s own weak constitution did not arrive. What arrived was a drunken Aliesi, heaving his guts into the river which flowed through the town. Vasi casually rearranged the small carved green and blue and gold and red pieces, carved from dyed glass, on the spider-web grid carved into the top of a small mahogany table. A small piece of carved ivory, the king’s piece, sat in the centre – he had chosen it at random, and that marked the game as a king’s game, rather than a knight’s game or an archers game or a game of the moon and stars. He had played Aliesi at this game, Alea-star-grid, many times, and he always lost. A small pipe, containing the ashes of a small rock of hasish, shipped across the sea in a great cargo on a bareaqua trading ship from the land of Sevon, in the far south, where climates were warmer and grass didn’t grow, but fields of potent hemp and poppies and vines of grapes did, and beside it a small wood brand, still smouldering at the end in it’s holder and a snuff-box with small fragments of the potent drug mixed in with the leaves of a local shrub, the richly spiced Rosespiceleaf. He wanted to pick it up and smoke it, but the embers were long since burnt out, and it was an expensive commodity. Vasi was rich, and one of the richest men in the town, but he could not afford to waste good hashish. People killed for hasish, on the land and on the seas, and died for it also – Vasi could not bear to waste the precious foreign substance to nurse such a minor hangover. He felt tired, but also ready to face the day ahead. He was never happy to miss a night with his partner Aliesi, but he could always sleep alone, in the soft white bed that lay just past the door of his white-stone house, a cool breeze blowing through the rafters above, the light of morning flowing through the open paper-screen wood-framed window that sat just above the comfortable white bed.
Vasi toyed with the small carved game pieces, himself playing the gold and green, Aliesi spirtia, the image of Aliesi as he would play, under Vasi’s hand the blue and red. Vasi would master himself at this game one day, but not soon. He drank from a glass of water, blown white glass, barely tainted with a drop of dirt, before leaving the Alea-star-grid and standing up, walking over to his bed. He pulled off his shirt, long, with a silk sash down one side, and his long wide-legged trousers made from simple cloth, dyed a dark shade of indigo-black, leaving himself in the nude, and lay down under the thick cloth sheets and woollen blankets that lay upon his simple cloth matress. He fell asleep, and in his dreams Aliesi came to him, his hair not it’s usual short soldier’s dyed black, but blonde, the natural blonde he had worn when they knew each other so many years before. His shirt was torn, and Vasi was surprised in no way to see him pull it off when he saw Vasi walking towards him across the fields. Vasi and Aliesi, when they met, had been mere youth’s, sober and eager to find life’s blessing. Vasi walked over to him, trying to run but finding that he could only walk, as Aliesi sat there, shirtless, in the sun in the fields outside town as he remembered the town in his dreams. He felt like he did the first night they had sat together and drunk wine, strong wine, locally grown and cheap and purchased with funds they had borrowed from Aliesi’s father. They had been young, perhaps a bit too young, but they had made their vague fumblings, clean and fresh with the salted water of the bath-house that sat in the hills above the town, above a natural spring. Aliesi had been fun, and had driven himself deep into Vasi, taking his virginity in the most passionate of ways. They had enjoyed themselves, taking it in turns over a few hours, and smoking on a pipe of stolen hashish. They had tried to be kind, and had chosen what they suspected to be the cheaper supply, from Vasi’s father’s cache. It was stronger than they expected, and they had eventually fallen asleep together, naked, in each other’s arms, in the fields outside the town. In his dreams Vasi named the town many things, and tonight he was dreaming about the first time he met Aliesi, the first time he had felt his hard body, his soft, perfectly formed ass, his perfect, pale thighs, his hair, blonde in the morning sun, as it had been when they first met. Vasi loved Aliesi still, and had rarely thought of another man, but when Aliesi was away, with the local band of archers with whom he worked as an expert marksman, he sometimes turned to his friends. The town, Seveoston, was twenty miles inland, and their local Baro, Alienitei, ruled with a kind word and a silver coin in his palm. He paid Aliesi well, and expected him to work with the other two hundred archers in his division on long range scouting exercises, to keep them in practise should they need to defend the territory in time of war. Vasi sometimes took some pleasure in meeting with Esidi, and Jodi, two young men who worked in the taverns. But his heart was always with Aliesi, and his short-cut hair, dyed the black of a soldier of the land he lived in, the great and faded empire of Edon. They were glorious once, spanning half a continent – a small continent, not a large one, but a continent regardless. The collapse had started over eight hundred years ago, as the provinces and republics of the great empire had begun their infighting, and the great aristocratic families had begun to feud and separate, and the alliances had soured, until the day in which Vasi dreamed of Aliesi, in the fields where the two men, young then and now only slightly older, had first made their passionate, hasish fuelled love. Few men in the world regarded the old empire of Edon in this day and age, as the fleets sailed the seas and the armies of the many nations and states fought their wars, but Alienitei, Baro of Seveston region, still flew the banner of the moon and tiger’s paw above his palace, in the mountain’s above the town, and all men of the villages and towns of his domain were classed as citizens. As such, there was a great need for a large defensive force, here in this tiny outpost of Edon by the coast, and Aliesi served as a footsoldier and bowman in this army, ranging the fields and roaming the coast in the summer, and making love to his lover Vasi in the winter. The ancient rites of the empire of Edon, now faded, were strong in the soul of the Baro of the former region, of the Lord-Baro of the province, and an easy truce was maintained with the bordering nation-state of Elios, and the free but partially disputed territory of Verionait to the west. The Lord-Baro of the province engaged in frequent trades with the many towns and cities of Verionait, keeping his little province-outpost of Evia-Seveston rich and powerful, sitting by the coast among the last territories of a dying empire that, at this late stage, few thought would be reborn.
Vasi’s dreams, fuelled by the powerful and well-aged hashish and his own fertile and rich sexual history with his passionate lover Aliesi, continued throughout the night, his hands on his hips, Aliesi’s fingers carefully pressing down on Vasi’s form, softer now as he dreamt of himself in his slightly older age, Alesi with the black-dyed hair of a soldier, Alesi’s hard cock driving deep into Vasi’s tight ass, Alesi’s hands toying with Vasi’s dark-furred balls and jacking off his hot manly cock. This dream, like all dreams of Alesi, the beautiful marksman soldier who Vasi had taken for his own in his slightly-too-youthful-youth, before any of the young men of the village, or young girls of the village who neither of the two young men found particularly fascinating, had any particular careers or dreams, brought him back to that first night of passionate hashish-fueled love.
As did the warm light of mid-day, flowing through the window and onto his face, warming his body in the late summer, and the warm fresh breeze that blew in across the sea. The Alia-star-grid table lay as it had the night before, the pieces of red and gold and green and blue sitting like little carved gems on the hard black lacquered mahogany surface, the ivory-carved king’s piece sitting in the centre, the Self-spiria pieces arranged prepared to take the opposive-spiritia pieces within three moves. He lit up a pipe of the potent strong hasish and finished off the game he had played solo the night before, and sat back in the comfortable chair on his covered terrace, wondering if Aliesi would be awake and sober enough to meet him.

The day was long and languid for Aliesi, as he sat in the parlour of the small drinking-house, built of stone and wood, but with tall paper windows on four sides, and the long pole-arms beside the door belaying the ancient tradition’s of the province of Eva-Sedeston, almost as old as the stones of the mountains and hills above the town, against which all stood and crumbled to dust, according to the mythology behind the ancient but still steel-blue and perfectly sharp and serviceable weapons.
Very few people knew, but the owner of the establishment held not only a large stock of wine and grain alcohol, but also a stock of coffee from the ancient colony of Reriasi, across the seas to the south. Reriasi, while not holding to the old traditions of Edon, kept much of the way of the old empire about it, and also maintained strong trade links with many former states. Aliesi knew this, however, and he was drinking on a tall hot cup of the strong tar-black coffee, laced with honey and sugar, and huge amounts of mint, enough to make it taste palatable. He hoped to meet Vasi later that day, and was waiting on a small cache of hasish, which the bartender had taken an order for a few weeks prior. It had arrived, he knew, and one of the girls working at the drinking house was just preparing it, crushing some of the large potent half-ounce block and mixing it with a collection of forest leaves, which she promised for a few more coins would give it a rich and smoky taste, as well as a more potent effect. He sipped at his coffee, hoping that Vasi would arrive soon.
The serving girl arrived, carrying a small silver dish containing a pipe, and a burning brand. The pipe was loaded, and the brand was made of a thick ebony-char wood, which would burn safely for hours. She placed a small box beside the dish, containing small fragments of the rest of the potent opium-loaded hasish.
“I hope it meets your tastes, Aliesi the archer,” she said, smiling, her shirt made from rough fabric, tight and low-cut. “There’s no need for a tip this time, but if you wouldn’t mind visiting again. The establishment’s proprietor is trying to gain contracts with the lord to service your division, should there be another conflict with one of the free cities to the west. It was before our time, the last one, but my old grandmother remembered it well, before you passed away. All those corpses, she remembered, in the fields outside town.” She flicked her short-cut black hair behind her ear, exposing a light coffee-and-cream freckled face, dark eyebrows and eyes purest blue, with a flaw in the ring of her perfect right retina, and a light blue ring visible around her pupils, pin-like and small, due to the small pipe of hashish Aliesi had not cared to complain about her stealing for herself. He didn’t know her name, but he remembered her face. In a town as small as Sedenston, you got to know almost everyone, and he thought he would find out more about her in the time it would take for Vasi to arrive.
He took the pipe and lit it, carefully, with the burning ebony-char wood brand. The taste was rich, with a hint of spice and a strong taste of the oranges that grew in the deep-woods and in the hills above town, a recent import from the lands across the sea to the south. They had been planted across the old empire of Edon, two hundred years past. He inhaled, held the smoke until his lungs burned – the archers of his company always did for the first pipe from a new batch – and blew it out gently, watching it coil in the air before him. “I know your face so well,” he said, as he fell into a waking sleep, “But I’ve yet to learn your name. I’m sure I’ve seen you about the place. I’ve been away so much recently, scouting with friends. Where do I know you from?”
“I’ve recently moved back to Sedenston, from Redis, a fishing village by the coast. My name’s Jeka, and I try to visit every few years. The pyre within the shrine to Seve in the town was lit in a ceremony at the moment of my birth, you see, and I would always visit as a child to gain luck. I recently took a job working here, in this little drinking-house.”
“Thank you, Jeka, that sounds fascinating,” Aliesi replied, feeling relaxed. His pipe still alight, he took a few more deep drags on the strong hashish, before settling back into his chair. Jeka seemed an interesting girl, he thought.
“I’d love to get to know you a bit better, if you have time. A few of the guys about town mentioned you’re seeing a guy called Vasi, but you seem fascinating.” Yes, Vasi, Aliesi thought. He loved him, and Jeka could do better than him. Or, no, that’s not what he meant. He could do better than her. He could do Vasi, he meant. These leaves were strong, he thought, or the hashish was stronger than he expected. He wanted to do things with Vasi, he thought.
“I’d love to, and I’m sure Vasi would also, Jeka,” he said. “We should order some drinks. He’ll be arriving soon, I suppose, if he can make it. I was going to wait for an hour and have some more coffee. He’s gorgeous, you know? Gorgeous. Beautiful gorgeous little guy, inherited a lot when his father passed away and his mother left town. She could bear to be here, but she had family up in the hills, in a little village south of the lord-baro’s estate, and she thought she’d move in with them. She left Vasi with most of what they owned, and left with his sister. Such a young child, with such a rare shock of blonde hair.”
Jeka looked distant for a minute, before helping herself to a sip of Aliesi’s coffee. She loved his dark skin, and the pure black dye that showed only a few hints of the brown roots of his short-cut hair, the dye of a soldier of old Edon. She wanted to get to know him better, but she was awkward about the matter. He smoked at his pipe, and continued to talk, describing his friendship with Vasi, and how they had met and first made love so many years ago on the grass, in the fields outside Sedonston.
“Sounds fascinating,” Jeka said, looking down, slightly awkwardly. She had yet to find any real new romance in her hold hometown of Sedenston, but she frequently visited the shrine to Seve, and lit small fires in the small prayer bowl which would occasionally hold a few coins, but more frequently nothing but the dust and dirt that the wind blew in.
Aliesi lit another pipe, but his lungs couldn’t take much more, and neither could his tired head, so he passed to Jeka, and said she could have it. She’d already had some, secretly, but she could take some more, so she smoked the pipe relaxedly. Her shirt was tightly cut, and she could tell Aliesi had some interest in her, but she could not tear him away from Vasi. If he was interested maybe she could get to know him, but they looked so happy together. She rubbed an old bruise on her leg, and thought back to her youth. She had had a strange life, and she was just glad to be away from it.
They spoke together for a while, exchanging personal details and history of their lives. Aliesi described his many fine scouting operations, in the fields and woods and coasts of the province of Eva-Sedenston, with his many friends in his two-hundred strong division, part of the three thousand archery company that served under the lord-baro of the province, which still considered itself part of the ancient empire. They also held a full five hundred armoured swordsmen, fighting in leather armour with metal scale-plate over the chest, and light chain, and a thousand cavalry archers. It was not an impressive force, but in time of war there were many local militia’s that could be called upon to do the dirty work of war.
Jeka was very vague about her past, but she described her happy times with friends in the town of Sedenston, in childhood, and her life in the village of Redis by the sea. It sounded a beautiful village, with it’s small dock and it’s small fleet of fishing boats, and the occasional trading ship that would pass by and send a friendly signal to the land. Aliesi could tell she was keeping something from him, but she didn’t seem to want to share, and he was too sensitive and too drowsy from the strong hashish to ask. Vera would arrive soon, yes, soon, he thought to himself, as he spoke to the young girl who had returned to the town. He ordered her a coffee from the private stock that very few knew of, just a small cup, and they drank together, as they waited for Vasi to arrive.
“Is that him?” Jeka asked, looking over to the open door of the drinking-parlour, where Vasi, dressed in a simple white silk shirt, and a pair of thick cloth trousers with an accentuated blue sash tied around his waist, was carefully pushing his way through the beaded curtain that kept and seperated the inside of the establishment from the outside. Aliesi was overjoyed to see his lover and partner.
“That’s him, yes,” he said, sedately, the warmth of the hashish filling him with relaxation, as his lover’s appearance did also. “Vasi!” he shouted, “Come, sit here with me and Jeka. I’ve just met her – she’s been away from town for a while, living by the sea.”
“She seems nice,” Vasi said, demurely, sitting in a comfortable basket-weave chair in the corner. “I so hoped to play a game of star-grid with you last night, but you were obviously busy.”
“I was busy nursing a hangover, as you were yourself, Vasi,” Aliesi replied. “We had so much passionate sex last week. I hope we can get some more private time, soon enough.”
“I’d love to. I’ve had so little to do, recently. I just spend my time smoking and thinking of you. Your friend seems to be enjoying her coffee.”
“She’s a nice girl, Vasi,” Aliesi said, “We’ve been talking for a while. I know she’s not your type, but you must notice the fine cut of her shirt, and her perfect skin.”
“Yes, Aliesi, she certainly is as an angel fallen from heaven, I notice in your eyes,” Vasi replied. “I wonder why they don’t look over at me more often.”
Aliesi, Vasi, and Jeka spoke for a while, over cups of strong wine and liquor, and coffee, and pipes of hashish imported across the sea from Meriakha. Eventually, as the warmth of late afternoon gave way to the cool of evening, Aliesi’s passion turned from his conversations with Vasi and Jeka to the more masculine passion of Vasi’s fine, lightly muscled and pale form. He could tell Vasi was thinking the same thing, and while he’d have loved to take him home with Jeka, to his small quarters on the edge of town, he thought that he might take him to bed there and then, to the small bedroom that he knew was available above the drinking establishment, which he could easily afford to pay for in the morning. He thought back to the many nights of passion they had spent together, and so he pulled him in close and kissed him, and invited him upstairs. Vasi drunkenly stood up – a bit too drunk, he thought to himself, as he had been invited to meet with the Baro a few days later, in one of the small offices that he kept for his staff in the center of Sedenston. Aliesi dragged him close to himself, nearly overturning the table but managing to keep the remaining bottles, and the small pipe from which they had been sharing their strong hashish, in place, spilling nothing. They climbed the simple wood stairs together, Aliesi the archer the stronger and more dominant of the two, in their drunkenness as in all things in their life and relationship. As they reached the top of the stairs, Aliesi invited Jeka to join him – and she thought that she might like to. She laughed, and quickly followed them upstairs, as they collapsed together on the soft and well-upholstered white and brass bed.
Vasi pulled Aliesi’s shirt off, exposing his lightly haired chest, and pulled the sash from around his waist, which he used to tie Aliesi’s arms to the bed as he removed his own silk shirt and pants, leaving himself entirely in the mood for hot passionate sex, as he began to play with Aliesi’s hard manly cock. Vasi would not usually spend much time around women, as he was passionately homosexual, but for Aliesi, and in his drunken state, he didn’t mind Jeka sitting there, laughing slightly under her breath at the passionate and manly sex the two young passionate lovers were having together and drinking from her coffee, and the remains of the bottle of liquor that she had brought upstairs with her. Vasi rammed his hard cock up Aliesi’s ass, and gently stroked his chest with his fingers, as he drunkenly pressed him down hard against the bed. The white sheets and soft woollen blankets which covered the soft mattress of the bed were tangled around their legs, as Jeka looked on and watched the two young men make passionate love to each other on the bed, until eventually they were both finished, as were her cup of coffee and her bottle of liquor, and they fell asleep drunkenly together. She didn’t want to wake them up, so she left the bottle and walked downstairs to get back to work.

Vasi was called to meet the Baro at the appointed time a few days later, dressed in his long grey-and-blue patterned silk robe over a pair of sturdy cloth trousers and a shirt, and wearing around his neck a small pendant, and rings of gold and silver on his hands. He was surprised that he seemed so young and fresh faced – he had not seen the man in years, as he rarely left his estate in the hills to the north of the town, but he had hardly aged. He knew the man to be a fine player of the game of Star-Grid which he had been practicing at with Aliesi so frequently of late. He seemed excited, but also slightly worried, and so Vasi enquired as to what was the issue. He had obviously called him to this meeting for a reason, and he wondered what that reason was, at such short notice. The baro explained that he had been drinking very little recently, due to some pressing affairs of state, but on the advice of the lord baro of the former province of Sedenston, he had been eating the leaves and berries of some very potent forest plants, and the strong stimulant brew that the people of old the old Edoni empire had made from the mushrooms and leaves of the forest.
“It’s tragic to tell you this, Vasi, but your friend Aliesi will be called away on his duties very soon. There’s trouble brewing on the northern border, and we need his courage and stamina. We’ve received word from some of the towns to the west, that frontrunners and soldiers from the northern expanse have been seen in the fields and hills, and even some have ventured into town on horseback. None of them have dared respond – they just fed them and watered them, and sent them on their way. I’d love to play you again, and I hope you can understand,” The Baro said, drinking from a small porcelain cup of coffee. Vasi felt worried, and unsettled – they never came this close to the province, and they never had in his lifetime sent what could amount to a raiding party, if not an outright invasionary motion. He wondered, as, he could easily tell, did the Baro – he had tried to hire him as a clerk in the past, and he knew he would again in future. As he watched the Baro’s face, and saw the worry in his eyes, he thought, at that exact moment, exactly what the Baro was thinking. They never came in numbers, never in two generations, but when they did, nothing could stop the advance of the bandit warlords of the north.

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Johni the prisoner
It had been months so far, in this cold cellar, for Johni. He was aboard a ship when they captured him, en-route to a port in the far seas, on the great island-continent-chain of Al-thair, to pick up a cargo of rare spices and precious jewels to return to his home port of Aliston, by the sea on an island off the coast of the Regial republic, part of the old Edon empire. He was waiting for some food, although the strong hashish they had brought for him, which was made with local opium and hemp resin from far across the seas, in the land of Meriakha. He had been prisoner in this small but comfortable room, a chain connecting his leg to the corner of the bed, his clothes taken from him, wearing nothing but a pair of tight underwear that seemed more designed for a young woman than a man, for over a year. He missed his freedom, but the young men who would visit him were beautiful. He hadn’t been a military man, but these citizens of wherever he was – he hadn’t known at the time that he had been captured, the military vessels behind him destroyed by cannon-fire, the merchant ship held ransom and towed to this hidden island, the navigators captured and held gagged so that he could know god knows where. He was a young man, and had passed his eighteenth year on ship a few months before being taken captive.
His body, pale compared to the light year-round tan of the people of this land, this strange land, this cell-like chamber where he lived, was tight, and more lean now than it had been before, although they fed him well. He had a name once, that he used, but they never let him use it. They just used him, like a beautiful little sex object. The language they spoke was strange, but he was learning it easily enough, and most of the hot, hard, dark bodied young men who made passionate love to him – he their captive, they his dominant sexual masters – spoke the old trade-speak of the empire of Edon. He was hard just thinking about them, and after a few weeks they trusted him with his own supply of the potent yellow-green hashish that he would smoke when he was alone. He resented them for the first few weeks, but then he began to love them, the hot way their hand would press down against his shoulders while they rammed his tight pale freckled ass, his hair, cut short but with a long slash covering one eye, the object of their admiration. They shaved his chest, his armpits, and essentially all of his hair. He was loving his new life, the prisoner of this beautiful sexual culture. Other captives had been sold off to trading vessels, ransomed or kept captive as servants, but Johni was different. They had measured him, and found him worthy. He was their captive, and his life, before devoid of meaning upon the waves, was now sex, and sexual subjugation beneath a foreign force of might.
He wondered, sometimes, where exactly he was, where this mysterious foreign port, with it’s cold rainy nights and it’s hot humid days, was. He didn’t really care – what he cared about was the hot passionate sex that the young, hot men of whatever this place was would give him, in both holes, every night and every day. Johni was hot, and passionate, and turned on by his life in this cellar-room, with it’s comfortable rough-sheeted bed, and the small fire they lit in the hearth some nights, when it got too cold for him to sleep. There was a time where he wore clothes, and now he did not. He lived here, chained to the hard iron bed with it’s comfortable mattress and it’s many hot young men, visiting him for passionate sexual adventures.
One day, while smoking a long pipe of strong hashish, and drinking the weak wine that they served him with a hot young man named Adzi, who sat there shirtless, Johni himself in a pair of tight white shorts, torn open up the back. They had been smoking hashish together and making passionate love, Adzi’s fingers sliding up Johni’s asshole, his fingers coated in the oil of black olives, his hard cock making him moan for more. Johni had been kissing him passionately, his tongue licking Adzi’s, his hands pressing him down, the black leather collar tied around his neck locked in place, pinning him to the comfortable rough-sheeted bed. Johni was in love with Adzi, and didn’t need clothes to be happy. He didn’t need to be free to be happy. He just needed the strong hash of this strange island-port, wherever it might be. He would learn in time, he knew, and in the mean-time he had plenty of time to relax. His fantasies had always involved forced servitude, and bondage, and he wondered how they knew that, or if they knew that, when they led him down to this cellar. He wondered if they had drugged him, as he left the boat on the docks, but he wasn’t sure. Maybe he had just been drunk, as he had been drinking some of the strong wine they had kept on ship with a beautiful marine soldier named Saemer, and smoking from a pipe of the weak but cheap hash that he would smoke, working as a merchant sailor aboard ship. But he had certainly woken up entirely naked, chained to this black cast-iron bed, a hot beautiful golden-skinned man wearing no shirt and a pair of rough red-cloth trousers sitting next to him, his hand on his chest. He had looked up, slightly surprised, and then laid his head back, dreaming while awake of Adzi’s hot, masculine hands on his pale, freckled chest. He wondered what had happened the night before, but from the sore feeling of his tight, pale ass, and the light stubble where his wiry red pubes had been, he knew it had been hot as could be. He wondered about the fate of his friends, his compatriots aboard ship, but in that instant, as Adzi’s hands pushed him down, as his fingers stroked the base of his hard pale cock, as his soft, exotic, accented voice spoke to him, passionately, in old Edoni trade-speak, he didn’t care. All he cared about was sex, and he knew he was in love. They drank wine together, and spoke for hours about Johni’s past life, as Adzi gently played with his balls and stroked the base of his cock, and he told him of his long life, his childhood in Aliston, and his old homeland, before he had started work as a merchant sailor, in the service of the Regial republic. Adzi had told him little about his life, and even within a year in his comfortable sex-bed he had learned very little about his lovers, his captors, his new home in this cellar beneath the black-and-grey stone fortress where he now lived.
He would spend his days smoking hashish from the small but plentiful supply they gave him, and drinking the weak but palatable wine that they gave him day by day. While he was alone he would think of sex, and wonder what strange substance they were lacing the strong hashish with to drive him to fantasise and jack off so passionately while alone, but he didn’t care. They would let him out eventually, he knew, but he didn’t care. Sometimes, when he was alone, he would wonder if they would let him leave, if they would let him wear clothes, but he didn’t mind. They fed him enough, just enough to keep him healthy. It wasn’t, he assumed, because they had any issue with food supplies – they just wanted to keep him cute and small, and entertain his fetish. Saemer would visit on occasion, and pin him down, roughly ramming his tight pale freckled ass, spreading him with his rough dark-skinned hands, his fingers stroking his balls. Johni spent most of his time chained to the cast-iron bed in his cellar. He liked his captivity, and he enjoyed the sexual passion of his captors - the long wild sex-sessions they would engage him, as he was tied by a rough chain to the bed. He liked the bed, and the tight black underwear, cut for a woman, that they gave him to wear sometimes, when he complained it was too cold. The girls of the fortress, serving maids, would visit him on occasion, leaving him embarrassed in his naked form – he was a homosexual sailor, and he would blush to his cheeks as they flirtatiously delivered him food and drink. The food was good, roast meat and rice, and sauce made from an odd spice that grew in the lands around Althair, strong and bitter, and wine that was slightly watery and slightly tasteless. He loved his life, and was having fun. Adzi would joke about his fear of women, as he stroked his shaven pubic regions, and his perfect tight ass – his fingers sliding in and out of his asshole, until he came, and then he was Adzi’s until he was done. Adzi confessed one day that he had trained himself for years, so that he could last hours and cum on command – Samaer and the others were often quicker, and much less adept. They would shoot their white load across his ass, and then finish him off if they felt like it. One lad, a young boy of about eighteen called Luki, seemed awkward about him. He seemed to feel a slight hint of guilt about drugging the poor young sailor, but the sailor Johni didn’t care. He knew they were doing it, and he was into it. Luki watched him jack off, and offered to let him do what he wanted, and he almost accepted, but then all he could do was lie back, and let Luki have his young inexpert way with him. He rammed him every way, in his ass and in his mouth, until he came, and then Johni made him continue, until his white pale form was covered in sweat, and he was too tired to continue. They smoked a pipe of hashish together, and then another, and then he passed out asleep.
After about a year in captivity, one of his jailors, a soldier in a leather jacket carrying a short-sword of an exotic make Johni didn’t know or care to enquire about, invited him on a brief walk upstairs. He wasn’t up to much, but he accepted. The fortress itself was fairly light and spacious, it turned out, surrounded by a low but thick wall, and as he was escorted, hands tied, hard as a rock, in just a tight pair of shorts through which he was sure they could see everything and a light silk sash tied around his wrists to a short minaret tower, to a small balcony overlooking the sea. He sat down, as the jailor, who’s name he learned to be Aliae, left him alone, untied his wrists and told him to wait and jack off if he wanted to. He waited for a few minutes, wondering what was so important about this balcony, as a light rain began to fall. Further minutes passed, and he couldn’t control himself – he pulled down his tight shorts and began to jack off, happy to be in the fresh air and feeling the light of day on him. He knew that he would be with someone soon, and so he tried in vain to finish himself off, but he knew he couldn’t. He was alone, and he was far away from home. He heard footsteps approaching up the spiral stairs of the minaret-tower, and so he quickly pulled his tight shorts up, covering himself, and leaned back against the wall of the balcony, the wood ceiling above him sheltering him from the worst of the warm rain that gently splashed on his chest. Luki arrived, a few minutes later, looking fresh-faced and eager. Johni was happy to see him, and almost jumped up when he arrived, but Luki sat down beside him, pulled him in close, and kissed him passionately. He smelled fresh, of soap and opium and fresh flowers, his hair dyed with red-and-black spikes and cut shorter than it had been the day before. He pulled him in close and kissed him, sliding his hands in his shorts, and playing with his cock and his short red pubic stubble. Johni pulled them down, as Luki stripped off his shirt and pants and pushed him back, the warm rain splashing not only against Johni’s pale freckled skin but also Luki’s dark flesh. Johni grabbed Luki’s ass, and felt the edge of his tight asshole, as Luki laughed and pushed himself deep into Johni’s ass, causing Johni to gasp slightly with pain, but despite his little experience Luki was a very skilled partner. Luki was good in bed, but he came very quickly, and despite Johni’s protestations he insisted on going down on him until he came himself, not bothering to prolong the experience but instead blowing his small, hard cock, his tongue gently licking the tight little slit at the tip of his pale pink head, until he came. He pulled back as he shot his pale white load across his pale white gut, and pushed him back against the floor of the stone balcony. “We’ve been dosing you with some very strong stuff,” he said, in the strange Edoni dialect they spoke on this small island, god knows where, somewhere in the region of the continent-island-chain of Al-thair. “You said we could, when you were drunk. You seemed excited by the opportunity. We could tell you more, if you want. We trust you now.” Johni was excited to know more about his captors, before they returned him to the cellar where he had been making passionate love to the hot men of the island with their tight bodies and their deep, darkly tanned brown skin. He spoke with Luki, stripped entirely nude, in the rain as it splashed gently across their skin, as they were pulled close to each other. Luki described the fort, on a small island in the seas around the great nation of Eliekha, in the continent-chain Althair. It sat at one end of a small island, a military establishment built up around a small and very covert port at which the corsair fleets of Eliekha docked. They had towed the merchant vessels, and the remaining escort brig, to the island, following the trade winds and the tides of the sea, and unloaded most of the cargo, although it was long gone now, sent to the mainland to be sold off, along with the ships. A few of his compatriots were still on the island, working under their own free will, former soldiers recruited into positions, as well as a few of the marine complement of the ships. Where the rest of them were, Luki did not know. Johni was fascinated by this, and happy to be alone, and in the fresh air, naked beside Luki with his hand pressed up against his inner leg, Luki’s trimmed pubic hair there, Johni’s shaven body longing to be pressed up against him. Johni loved Luki, and he longed to jack him off, to lick his perfect form, to ram his tight ass. There were obviously baths on the island, or something similar, some small pool like the hot spring spa built in the old Edoni style on the island of Aliston, his old home, and he felt like he would have one with Luki. But first he would make love to him. Luki pushed him back again against the grey stone wall of the balcony of the fortress, and grabbed him by his shaven cock, the short stubble of his pubic hair rubbing gently against his palm. He stroked him, gently, on the chest, and bit his lip, before kissing him passionately and sliding two fingers from his spare hand up his tight asshole. He knew he loved him, then, and though he was not his first, he was certainly his most passionate and loving partner. He stroked his perfect pale-white shaven cock until he came again, and then pulled him up. He offered him his underwear, tight cut with a small heart sewed onto the black fabric, to wear, and tied his hands behind him with the silk sash that lay discarded on the floor of the balcony, his hot and perfect ass straining against the slightly-too-small underwear, his shorts there on the floor, beautiful, white, and perfectly unreachable. Luki pulled on his shirt and pants and led him downstairs, his beautiful dark skin showing through his wet shirt, open at the collar to expose the small patch of dark hair on his chest. Johni’s black leather collar stood stark against his pale freckled flesh, as Luki escorted him through the corridors of the fort, in his borrowed underwear, to a small open courtyard, where he sat with him, laughing at Johni’s embarrassment at being seen almost naked by the young women and men, soldiers and servants of the fort.
The gravel floor of the courtyard was wet, but the water of the rain which had come to a stop, and so they sat together on the floor of the gravel courtyard, a small exotic tree growing in the centre. Johni lay back, turned on by the hot passionate sexual desire he felt for Luki, hard as a rock beneath the tight black boxers he wore, as Luki untied the tight tied sash around his wrists. The air was warm and humid, and the young couple were together alone. “There are some other dudes living here, who I’ve been with. But you’re the first guy I’ve really loved. One of your friends from the ship is working here. He’d like to meet you, ideally – I think you were in a relationship with him when we took the fleet. As you were promised, Alec is staying here. He’s been working as a guard, recently, on one of our officer’s planning rooms,” Luki said, “He’ll be meeting us in a minute.” He pulled off his leather jacket and shirt, and pushed Johni back, his hands pulling his boxers down, so his pale and shaved cock stood erect in the humid air, and pushed him back further, until he was pressed hard underneath him to the ground. He spread his tight pale freckled ass, his dark-skinned hands feeling the sides of his lightly furred ass, one finger sliding up it, and then another, as he kissed him again and bit his pale lips, and jacked off his small hard pale cock.
Johni felt the wet warm gravel of the internal courtyard against his back, as Luki pressed down on him, his hands sliding two fingers at this point up his tight asshole, and playing roughly with his balls and his shaved cock. Johni pulled him in close, and wrapped his arms around him, his hands gently placed just beneath his dark-toned ass, on his thighs, gripping them, as Luki moaned, “Yes,” and pulled back a bit, his hard cock sliding up his captive’s tight freckled ass. They continued for a bit, until Johni came, for the second time that day. Luki pulled out of him, and rolled over, his perfect body wet with the rain which was falling, and lay back next to him. “Alec will be here in a while, as well as Mahk, a friend of mine. They’ve been in a relationship for a while, and they are deeply in love. You mentioned that Alec was serving as a marine on your ship, before we captured it. He’s working as a staff guard in the fortress now, and we’re paying him well to teach us the tactics of your culture,” Luki said, in the Edoni trade speak he usually spoke. He was perfectly accented, and Johni could easily place the accent as the accent of the accent of the island-nations and coastal territories of the lands of southern Althair, but he still had no idea where his gorgeous, sexual captors were from, or where he was. He supposed, as the hashish wore off, that Alec, who was born in is own town on the island of Aliston, might know more, and as he thought in his naked way, laid back next to Luki on the gravel floor of the courtyard, one arm draped across his hot manly lover’s chest, his hand feeling his hard dark pectoral muscles. They lay together for a while, the two hot young men, Johni a captive, and Luki a hot young soldier of whatever this island must be, his cloth trousers around his knees, exposing his hot dark cock and his perfect legs, and spoke about their lives. Johni discusses his youth, and his happy relations in the port of Aliston, and the young men of the town who he used to spend his time with, drinking and experimenting with sex, before he decided to take up a position on a merchant ship and travel the world.
Luki revealed a lot of information about the island, and their operations, while they waited for Alec to arrive. Apparently this was a corsair port, working under a small federation of corsair fleets running in the local area, and associated with the nation of Tiam, on the coast of one of the southernmost islands in the great continent-chain of Althair. The island itself, Minor-Andama, was small, but large enough for a small city housing merchants and soldiers and their families, and also a port capable of taking enough ships that the island itself was entirely crucial as a port for the many small fleets that the piratical and democratic nation of Tiam used and operated in this area of sea. While it had been inhabited by a small populace for hundreds of years more, they had opened the operational shipping base only a handful of generations, about a hundred years prior. The fortress in which they sat, naked together on the wet gravel, was named Fort Admait, and the fresh grey stone which made up the curtain wall and the strong defensive walls within was newly cut from the stone of the mountains that made up the center of the island.
Alec arrived, a while later, looking excited and happy to see Johni. Johni was a past lover of Alec’s, and the two young men had spent a few nights together on ship, making passionate love to each other in the small private room that served as a sex-pad for them and the other young couples who lived together on the ship.
He sat down next to them, carrying a bottle of wine and three small clay cups. It was strong stuff, fortified and red, and he poured them a cup each and drank half of his while Luki and Johni sat together, basking in the afterglow of their sex as the three hot young men started to chat. Johni almost felt embarrassed to be there, his boxers discarded on the gravel, next to Luki and Alec, but he loved them both regardless, and a rush of emotions came back to him as he saw Alec smile, and heard his story of the long time he had spent working as a soldier on Minor-Andama. He was passionately turned on, he could hardly conceal in his nudity, and so he drank with the two of them, taking a more submissive position in the conversation. Much like the submissive position he had recently been taking in bed with Luki and the other hot young corsair’s who would visit him in his private cellar room.
They drank together until they were quite drunk, Johni feeling quite turned on, his cock standing proudly erect, as Luki seduced Alec, and as Alec looked at Johni passionately and longingly, his short blonde hair and his pale brown eyes wandering occasionally to Johni’s perfect taut gut, his perfect white legs, and his hard, shaven cock.
They made love for a while, on the wet gravel of the courtyard, and Alec mentioned to his hot manly shaven lover Johni that, as he stroked Johni’s beautiful cock, a few other of the ships crew had been brought ashore, and allowed to work on the island of Minor-Andama. The rest had left together, bound for other islands and on ships, and the captain was sent away on a small barque to the mainland, to Tiam, after they had drugged him with hashish and plied him with wine and gained all the information they needed with their seductive techniques. He had no idea what they were doing with him, but Luki had laughed and said in his beautifully accent that he would be going to meet the lords of the senate of Tiam and perhaps they would hire him, along with the soldiers and other captives sent with him, as an aide or a clerk. He had been a fine looking man, in his mid thirties, with short grey hair and a beard that showed lightly on his face, and weather-beaten features that showed a fine tan that he had developed over his many years at sea.
They drank together for a while longer, until Alec said to Johni, “I sent for a girl to pick you up some clothes. They should be your size, although you’ve lost a bit of weight. You should really get back into life.”
“True, I should,” Johni replied, “I’ve been having fun, locked away in the cellar. All that sex.”
“Well, that’s good to hear,” Alec said, pressing a hand down on his chest. “She’ll probably be here some time soon.”
“Well, that’s alright then,” Johni said. He had been the captive of a corsair fleet for a year, and now he supposed they were going to press him into service in the fort, or maybe in the town. He asked, and Alec replied that they had planned to put him to work in a bar, for a while, and then maybe place him on ship in a few years, if he felt like it, and set him to work as a corsair. Johni thought that might be fun, and that he might like that.
Luki sat and watched, having re-dressed in his jacket, shirt, and long cloth pants, allowing Johni to wear his boxers, as Alec jacked him off until he came again, his white cum staining Luki’s boxers, as Alec wiped his hand on the black soft fabric. They hugged for a while, and kissed passionately, until a serving girl came along with a small canopy, a tray containing a jar of coals, a few small charcoal brands, a small bottle of strong liquor, and three large pipes containing a strong dose of hashish each. She also carried a small cloth bag, containing a cloth jacket, some pants made from thick cloth, and a light shirt, dyed at the hems a shade of light blue. She placed these things down, looking over at Alec flirtatiously, before leaving quietly, only spending a minute to ask Luki if things were going as expected. Luki replied that they were, and the girl nodded, turned and left. Alec pulled Johni up, and the three young men smoked together, drank their liquor straight from the bottle, and spoke together, before the evening sky began to darken, and the feeling of warmth was replaced with a cool air that began to chill Johni’s wet naked skin. Johni didn’t want to ask, but on Luki’s advice he dressed quickly, and, still barefoot, they stood and walked into the fortress. Luki led the two of them to a small antechamber, leading to the outside areas of the fortress, Fort Admait. They sat together for a while, as Luki looked for a warden to open the thick passage-doorway that led to the outside. Johni was sweating with passion, not only at having been kept captive for so long in the fort, but also at the opportunity to leave, and the opportunity to be free to live his life in the public, instead of as the sexual plaything of a corsair base, hidden deep in the seas to the south of Tiam, in the great continent-chain of Althair.

It was late at night on station eight, and Joe and Jake were making passionate love to each other. Station eight was in orbit around a large but ancient and mostly dead star. Sex between adults was fully legal on station eight, of any sexuality or orientation. Unlike on station six, where station policy was to forcibly conjugate, and this was enforced brutally and anally by the stations security crew, on station eight, station crew and civilian staff were free, sexy, and liberal. Station eight policy dictated that those who loved would be partners in sexual joy, and uniquely among the many stations of star sigma alpha system ex one three, marriage was not an option for men, or women, at all. Unlike on station four, where it was compulsory for all people of all sexualities, and approved at the age of twenty five, as was the culture of station four. It was similar on station sixteen, a communist station on which all people shared all things, and were happy. On station sixteen, however the marriages were mass marriages, and as the relations developed they expanded, until at the end of their one hundred and fifty years of life, there were on average eight in every partnership, and they were taking it in the ass mouth and anywhere else you could put it three times a day in group orgies. While man on man was a policy on all stations in sigma alpha system ex one three, it was a shock to the passing space vessels that would dock at these stations to find on station nine it was entirely required for sexual conjugative purposes that all men engage in relations with men, and all women with women, except for three times a system year.
Joe slid his finger gently into Jakes tight ass and thought to himself, why does Jake refuse to use a girls name in public. Joe and Jake loved each other, and Joe accepted, as did everyone on station eight, that Jake liked dudes. Jake liked dudes, and Jake loved Joe, and station eight was the station on which they lived. Jake thought occasionally, as Joe passionately jacked him off and stroked and fingered his asshole, that a threesome would be fun, but Joe was a one man guy and he loved him. Threesomes were common on station eight, but what was more common on station eight was two dudes sitting side by side holding hands. Joe and Jake were in love, and they were two dudes who were in love. Jake loved Joe, Joe loved Jake, and Jake was everything Joe wanted him to be and more. Joe was into dudes, and he made them his girl whore bitches, but he never violated their sexual liberal rights by forcing them to do anything but service him sexually, and he had never once forced one of his whore bitches to sleep with a woman unless they told him they wanted to. Jake would do anything for him, and what Joe wanted that day was for him to lick his tight pansexual asshole. So he asked him to, and he did that. He bit his tight beautiful ass, and licked it, and privately thought why did he not use a girls name. He knew why – if the girls of station eight found out about their secret, they would be all over them. Station sixteen had never had an issue with communo-girl rape, but the oppressive bisexual regime of the mysterious scout vessel system sigma nine did on occasion set the girls on them because they were a bisexual vessel. The dudes were cute, the girls were crazy, but Jake like dudes. Joe respected Jake, and Jake loved Joe, and Jake would do anything for him. The bisexual vessel sigma nine had not passed by station eight or sent any message or communiqué for five system years. Jake was glad of that, as the last time they passed by, they broadcast one of their bisexual systems broadcasts. They thought that was funny, as did most of the station, but it effected the lives of Jake and Joe for weeks and weeks and weeks. They thought back on it on occasion and laughed. Jake was thinking back to those awful weeks when they thought he might potentially be cheating on Joe with the commissar ships director of station sixteen, and inside he cried, but outside he bit hard on the side of Joes hot manly ass, and gently stroked him between his legs and slid his other hand along his soft dark thigh.
Joe was expected on duty as a ships intelligence investigative officer in a few hours, but he could do what he wanted to in the meantime. What he wanted to do was to ram Jake’s asshole hard and fast. Joe liked the fact that Jake was insisting on using a guys name, but he knew if he subjugated him sexually further, he would do whatever he asked him to. They had not seen each other for a few years, but he knew he loved him, as he had been busy with work. Jake was a ships research assistant technician in training, and he loved Joe. Joe asked him if he could do everything he wanted to. Jake said he wanted to sleep, but Joe knew what that meant. That meant he wanted him to ram him without consent. So he pinned him down, and rammed him hard and fast. Jake said it hurt, and it did, but that did not mean Jake didn’t like it. It just meant he didn’t officially like it. Jake was turned on by being pinned down by dudes, but exclusively dudes. Jake liked dudes. Jake loved Joe. Jake made it very clear to Joe that he liked it rough, but only from Joe, and only from dudes. Jake was a dude who liked dudes, and he knew it. Joe knew it also, as did station eight. He had few friends on other stations, but he had contact with vessel sigma one, vessel sigma two, and vessel sigma six on occasion, as they patrolled the regions between stations eight and fourteen as a matter of course. System sigma alpha star ex one three was a large system, and colony ships were disheartened to discover that there were not three habitable planets and two moons in the system, but there was infact only one large moon capable of supporting life. It had taken over eight hundred years to make transit to the system, and the colony fleet directorial staff did not see fit to return. Occasional messages with hub star alpha six alpha were exchanged in the time between arrival and the point of stable construction, and terraforming activity continued. The planet, named Planet Eco-sigma, would be habitable in no less than three hundred system years, and then Hab-stations one through six would immediately be towed by sigma-beta fleet to orbit and the crew would make direct planet-fall. But that was far past the lifetimes of any living man or woman on ship.
Joe knew this, and Jake knew this, and Jake also knew that Joe was riding his ass hard. He was reaming him with his hot man cock, his hands pinning him down, his hot body pressed up against his. Jake loved Joe, and Joe was madly in love with Jake, Jake knew for a fact. Jake knew this because he never asked if he was being too rough with him, but also he noticed that he knew he was not. This meant he loved him, and Jake loved being love-raped up his ass by Joe. Joe came in his ass, venereal disease not being an issue on station eight. He pulled himself out, and grabbed his ass, and slid a finger in it. Jake didn’t like being asked to give him a blowjob after he pulled out. He liked it when Joe grabbed him by his short dark hair and forced him to go down on him. But he always asked, because he was beautiful.
Station eight was not the largest and most beautiful station in the system, but it was the most prestigious for research and development on science and space economy. It had a small comms system, and Joe had worked there in the past as a cryptographic intelligence agent, before moving to a directorial post. Jake was a minor research assistant on the other hand, spending most of his time alone with his data-systems link relay system, but also being very active on the comms research scene. He was an asossciate comms research agent, but he was hoping to be promoted at a later date. He was shocked one day to receive a message from Station three, activating from his personal cell. “System risk issue ongoing, personal relay, system four sigma four sigma four alpha sigma eight four one four eight one request assist.” It seemed strange at first, but as he deciphered the code with his drug-geno-enhanced brain, he began to laugh. It read like this – “Girl raping me in sick ways, need assist from hot dude on station eight. Sending to several parties, requesting assist with horrible situation.” He was turned on at the thought of helping the guy, who’s com signal he did not recognise. However he had had several contacts with that station, and he was happy to assist a dude in need. He started a video link and found this – a hot young red haired dude of the smallest proportions, looking no older than twenty-one system years. He was turned on, and he knew it. The dude was shirtless, and looked panicked. He thought to himself, should I help this dude out? And of course he messaged direct – “One six alpha system alpha hub contact past five five one, one one, contact direct.” This translated as – “Seem hot, seem to want sex, begin personal communication if assist required.”
“Need assist now, sex later, please contact captain,” the gorgeous young redhead replied. Jake never being one to deny a dude in danger did so directly – noticing a crucial danger code contact captain. He put a contact through to a friend in comms relay intelligence office six, station eight, and then said to the hot young redhead “Is it urgent, or do we have time?”
“Time for anything, hot dude station eight,” the redhead replied. Jake didn’t know his name, but he thought he’d ask eventually. He opened his own comms relay and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. He took off his space fabric jeans, exposing the tight red and black lace girls underwear Joe made him wear at all times or he would refuse to let him do anything but lick his tight asshole every day for a week. He wore them most days, since the day he discovered that if he bit his leg just right he would pin him down and jack him off until he came.
“Hot,” the dude on station three said. He unbuttoned his own jeans, and pulled out his small but perfect cock. “Don’t know whats going on,” he said, “But the other day vessel nine docked, and now the girls are all over me.”
“Vessel nine is a scout vessel, they’re messing with you because you’re cute and they’re bored,” Jake replied. “Just grab a dude until they leave you alone, preferably one of their crew.”
“Sure thing, if you want. I have dreams no one else has, and they accepted me before they did that,” the redhead
“They all know, dude they’re messing with you. Maybe if you were to jack off a bit it would turn us both on. If you were to tell me more about you. What do you like in bed. Can’t transfer you yet, but if you want to move station if we get to know each other a bit better maybe we could have you on staff in a few years. What do you do, are you still studying?”
The young redhead looked terrified, and began to jack off for Jake on his vidcam. “I think I could tell you that it’s not much. I’m a crewman in no specific training, and I don’t think I could apply.”
“Can’t get you on station eight then. What’s the issue?”
“They say I’m bisexual and they’re all over me, but I like dudes.”
“Oh, that’s always vessel nine. They’re bored and they think you’re cute. They’re reading your personnel logs, and messing with the system. Maybe you show me your ass and I’ll tell you more.”
“That’s cool, just wanted to chat with someone about my issues, ha ha ha lured you in.”
“Cool, that’s cool,” Jake replied, making sure to activate a systems trace on his comms link trace system. He spent a few minutes watching the hot young redheaded dude jack off and finger his tight ass, as he waited for the trace to confirm there had been no intercept. “Issues with girls then? Don’t we all have them,” he said.
“God, I’m turned on,” the redhead replied. He jacked off for a while longer and came. The trace came back, valid, no intercept. Good, Jake thought, just wanted sex. He profiled the report as he jacked off over the guy sitting there looking scared but in awe at his manly body, his small cock still hard, his trimmed auburn pubic hair there so beautifully tousled, on the high res graphic screen. System seemed good, most likely issue wanted a brief liason for information. Jake thought he was cool enough, and the most likely option was to send a secondary intercept message to security systems to nix rescue and arrange transfer to vessel nine. The kid would love it, there were dude who liked dudes on vessel nine actually, even if they were allegedly bi. Vessel nine was a strange but very sexy vessel, and the kid would love it. He messaged a brief intercept, “System nine one nine transfer system eight one alpha vessel engage,” to the comms agent he had contacted. Reply came in a few minutes, “Alpha vessel nine affirm, contact go.” The game was on. He’d have to tell Joe about this at some point. If he didn’t, would he still love him? He assumed so, and was correct.

Vessel nine comms agent received the message at the end of ships time session four, date undisclosable, time mention four six one. Comms agent Mt16, name undisclosable, was excited and turned on to hear the news. The cute redhead they were trying to recruit had contacted foreign stations as expected. Why station eight, he wondered, and not station sixteen. Station sixteen would use different methods – there would be a brief diplomatic comms contact with a ships director, rather than a message to personnel procurement, as was the method used habitually by the sex animals of station eight, and an approved transfer. Several other messages had been sent, and he seemed to be chatting pleasantly with a friend on the same station. The other messages were refused, as the hot young research assistant with his beautiful tousled brown hair had placed a priority contact to his own security team and a contact barr advisory with policing and comms services on other stations and vessels. A minor comms aide on station sixteen had placed a minor contact request, but vessel nine were heavily disadvising – station sixteen would be hot for a kid his age yes, but also their group sexcreation policies might be a bit rough and ready. They would request a direct position within ten years, which wasn’t a long time – they usually waited only a few months, maybe two years. The young guy was almost a virgin, also, and Mt16 thought it best to break him in for a bit on vessel nine before doing anything with him. System analasys protocols had placed him as a young homosexual with a strong fetish for rope ties and guys in girls underwear. It was all legit and legal, and there was no need to conceal anything in his history to get him on staff. Not that they usually would, but this kid was hot.
“Register meeting reconnaissance interview begin,” Mt16 commed to Agent 421, ships position rescue procurement agent station time. The decoy harassment on the cute redhead, Josh, had worked, and baited him out into contacting what could be conjuectured as a rescue request, and the plan was afoot. The guys would be out to pick him up shortly, having placed a directive vessel-station demand with the personnel director responsible for him. The girls would be off him in a few days, and he would be on vessel and off station, as was policy with vessel nine. They would then ram him in his tight ass and shove their manly cocks down his almost virgin throat, until he begged for more. They picked people up this way sometimes, and while his records stated he was not into three on one, Mt16 was sure he could change his mind in a few week. Because he was a cute redhead, and they were sure nobody would miss him. He like dudes, and they respected that.
Agent 421 ships procurement division commed back –“Entry, approaching, six nine alpha nine ready to collect, seems willing, seems ready.” Mt16 wondered what was going on with the team, so he activated a screen on to view the team with their new proposed officer. Three ships procurement agents were sitting casually in a bar near the quarters from which Josh had put out his assist request. The plan had worked, as Josh was sitting alone in the corner drinking from a small bottle of what appeared to be some narcotic or another. Agent procurement 6sigma1, real name Jack, moved in for the rescue. He sat next to him, passing him a cup of alcoholic synthate material semi-vodka, and drinking some himself. “Got a message from some research clerk on station eight – hear you’re having some trouble. You’ve been proposed a position on vessel nine, if you’re interested.”
Josh was excited. “Sure thing,” he said, drinking half the cup of semi-vodka. He looked into the guys eyes. Jake had mentioned that they did things like this, and this was his opportunity to get off the oppressive and anti-communistic station four. The guy’s name he didn’t know, but he knew that he was the hottest piece of space trash he had ever seen. His heart beat fast, as did the rest of him. He knew then that he was in love. “I’d love to,” he said. He wanted him bad. On station four he had been found ineligible for training, and it was unlikely that he would be given any useful post in future. Station four was a colony station, and interesting positions were hard to get. As was Josh, he thought to himself. 6sigma1 looked over at his associates, Agent421 commed to 6sigma1, “Six alpha one six begin.” 6sigma1, or Tom, grabbed Josh by the hair and said, “You look gorgeous in that shirt. Maybe if you would come with me we could strip you off and change you into something more comfortable.” Josh looked scared momentarily, but then entirely enticed. He looked deep into Tom’s eyes and noticed his lips parting without his own control. Tom, 6sigma1, pulled him close and kissed him, his tongue wrapped around his. Josh placed his hand inside Tom’s shirt, hard and aroused by the gorgeous crew procurement agent’s manly form, and his soft, perfect lips.
“Come on Tom, we need him fast. We can’t legitimise this transfer if we keep him here for too long,” Agent31, or Tony, said. Tom grabbed Josh by his weak, redheaded shoulder, and pulled him up. “Come on, let’s go,” he said. He commed to Agent421 – “Alpha begin six one six begin, time to fly,” and took Josh by his elbow, pulling him along with him. Josh timidly placed his hand on Tom’s hip. Tom grinned, privately turned on by the fun they were going to have when he got him on ship, and damn near came in his pants. He was hot for this kid, and he knew they’d got a good one here. They left the bar together. Josh didn’t quite immediately realise that he was leaving the station on which he was born forever. But he was glad to leave, because he had little hope there besides a life working and living the same life he had lived. He wondered how many other’s were en-route to vessel nine. So he asked, and Agent31 replied, “Twenty seven from your sector, and four hundred from others. It’s not standard to raise kids on ship, so we pick them up at about your age, as you know. Especially the cute ones. Some expecting mothers are disembarking, as well as some new families who were born on ship. You will of course be servicing us sexually and taking all orders on ship. We’ll put you on as a civilian staff officer at first, until we can teach you the ropes. We will be leaving in a week. We need to go quickly, though, as there is a short window of opportunity to get this semi-legal transfer legitimised.” Josh had a semi himself at the thought of his new life aboard ship. He was turned on by not only the two hot guys and the nameless girl he was with, but also by the sexed-up life he would lead aboard vessel nine.
The three ships procurement agents escorted him along the internal boulevard of the station on which the drinking parlour he had been in sat upon. Station four was large, as it needed to be to prepare for the colonisation of Eco-sigma, holding over eight hundred thousand souls. It contained plenty of space for population growth, and as a major civilian station it was situated in a colonisation zone between the second and third planetoids orbiting gas-giant Eco-giant-sigma-one. As he walked with the procurement agents along the boulevard, other young hopeful and entirely sexually aroused station citizens walked with their recruiting agents towards the transit bay used by vessel nine to embark upon their sexual adventure in space. He was turned on, and while the girls did not appeal to him that way, the boys were hot. Vessel nine was a sexy space ship, and he knew it, as did all of the young gorgeous hopefuls. “Usually we would interview on station, but you turn us on, so we’ll be doing that en-route,” Tony said to Josh. “We have a system brief on your activities and prolectivities, as well as your preferences, and we’re sure you’ll fit right in. We just need to gauge your reactions to a few basic questions.” Josh was nervous about this, but also entirely aroused and ready to act. He answered that he was ready to give any basic information they needed. They asked, as they walked, Josh and Tom’s arms linked, Josh’s hand still on Tom’s hip, about his prior partners and sexual activity. He mentioned the few relations he’d had, the two brief liasons with station crew, both his own age, and the attempted seduction the girls had been giving him since he had been alleged to be bisexual. Tom laughed, squeezed Josh’s tight young ass and said that they had done it to the intent of recruiting him. He looked embarrassed, and asked why. Tom told him to ask no questions. He asked about the gorgeous young research assistant on station eight with his tousled short brown hair. Josh, timidly at first, but as the conversation got more steamy, described the wild passionate vid-display sex they had had. Tom thought of messaging station eight for video date, for personal reasons, but of course he realised they had it already. They passed by a young couple making out leaned up against a synthetic oxy-tree who looked to be having fun. They were a guy and a girl, which was not uncommon on station four, unlike on the communist station sixteen where, as mentioned prior, same-sex relations were enforced except for on three days every system year. The girl procurement agent looked over at the couple, but as they couldn’t stop, even for a minute, she continued to escort Tony, and Tom and Josh, who were looking more turned on by the minute.
There was little risk to this procurement, as sexual liberal policy on station four allowed transfer of anyone, even those ineligible for training or work position, in a three station period unit period, and that was plenty of time for the crew of vessel nine. Agent31 sent a minor comm message to security team eight infiltrator John, “System begin recruit profile nine alpha six alpha six alpha four six four alpha four six eight alpha four,” to signify that the meeting was successful, the interview had been passed, and the sexy young redhaired Josh was happy and aroused. John messaged back, “Four one alpha valid, station eight support six high, sixteen offer allow refuse,” meaning that the system directorial team was ready to transfer and that they had successfully completed assosciated transfer objective nine two four – get the sexy redhead off station without beaurocratic interference. Successful objective nineteen complete personal, Agent31 thought, and he felt himself stirring for the young redhead and the room they had for him on vessel. He thought that he’d have a lot of fun with Josh. They had plenty of time to get him on ship, and once shuttle sixteen, which was to carry him and a hundred other young crewmen, who had been recruited for numerous reasons, although mostly like Josh for their sexy young bodies and their adorable fetishes.
Tony mentioned that it would be inadvisable to stop for a drink, as the directorship of station four were still investigating the alleged sex-rape, which they could at any time discover to be a fabrication for transfer purposes for Josh. Josh was too busy feeling Tom’s tight ass, one finger slid gently down the centre, beneath his standard space-uniform, to care. Tom was thinking of the night of passion he would give Josh on the shuttle, which would be about as long as it would take to travel from station eight to vessel nine. They could do nothing to stop the transfer if discovered, but they would complain if they failed to arrange the operation according to inter-vehicle protocol. He was also thinking of the small pink nipples beneath the tight grey fabric shirt that he desperately wanted to tear off the gorgeous small bodied redhead, so that he could pin him down and ram himself in him. But the time for sex was later, and the time for action was now.
As they joined the crowd of young transfer recruits en-route to the embarkation bay, Josh felt turned on not only by the new, fulfilled life he was going to lead on vessel, but also by the cute research assistant with the tousled brown hair, and the sexy vessel agent who he could feel gently prodding finger into his tight asshole. He was embarrassed, but also aroused, to notice that everybody could see the guys hand down the back of his space-jeans, and the crowd were obviously not ashamed to notice themselves. They were careful not to mention it, however few guys were looking over as were a few girls. Josh was turned on by this, and he noticed that Tom was also. During the security profile Tom had asked Josh a few questions about his sex habits. He had noted with Agent421 that he seemed excited but also slightly unready for group orgies. They’d break him in, Tom supposed, and then he would be their bitch whore slut space whore. He mentioned this to Josh, who looked turned on and also slightly intimidated. He slid another finger into Josh’s tight almost virgin asshole. Josh wondered if he would get another chance to talk to the sexy young research assistant on station eight with his short, tousled brown hair and his beautiful skin, his dark complexion and his sexy, seven inch cock. He might, he thought. “Should be embarking soon,” Tony said, thinking that he might have a go on the young guy. He loved that Tom had picked him up, and he wondered if he’d pass the entry exams for training in security or agent procurement. He thought he’d got a good chance, and they could always keep him as their bitch if not.
“Seven four alpha four alpha six alpha four alpha entry begin, start casual,” Mt16 commed to Tom, “Agent John is ready to enter, bring him aboard, shuttle ready soon enough. You’ve got plenty of time for a drink before you set off, no need to be tense about it, shuttle should board within a few time units.”
“Sounds good, sir, will be doing so with Josh privately,” Tom said, politely, “Seems a good kid, getting along with him well enough. He’d be right at home on ship, and the other kids seem to think he’s hot enough from the look of it. I don’t see why they would not, he’s gorgeous.” He escorted Josh into a small lounge adjacent to the boulevard leading to the embarkation bay, ordered some drinks for them and a few shots of space psylo-narcotic, and stated to make out with him passionately and sexually, his hand inside his hot young space jeans, gently jacking off his hot station four cock.

Jake and Joe were sitting together drinking in a private room on station eight. Jake was only a low-ranking research assistant, so he did not have much authority to requisition station space, but he had managed to gain access to some semi-gin synthate, and some narcotic-stimulant solution to make the night go well. As Joe sat there describing his ongoing events, he had a semi himself. Joe had been drinking a bit too much, his head swimming slightly, but Jake had only had a few shots of narcotic-stimulant, and he was sober enough to know that he wanted Joe bad. Joe was gorgeous, his long dark hair gently falling over his shoulders like a black-ice cascade. Jake wanted to grab it and force his head down on his hard cock, but he knew Joe had the power in this relationship. Joe was definitely going to be grabbing him by his tousled brown hair, and sexily seducing him, and making him do what he wanted to when he wanted to later that night. Joe was hot, and Jake was hot for Joe.
Comms security office alpha-nine-four had been profiling the contact from station four for a few micro-station-time-units on a sub-system running on a minor terminal assosciated with the station system command system, on request from vessel nine. The cute redhead, Josh, was just turning nineteen, and had a fetish for handcuffs and guys in girls underwear. Ships personnel profiles had found some very friendly relations, and a close sexual relationship with a guy a few months before the contact. They had confirmed with an agent infiltrator, John, that he was not only sexy as hell, but that the transfer had been approved with tacit legality. Vid images of Josh jacking off for Jake, stroking his tight young red-hair lined asshole with his beautiful young fingers, and shooting his load across his gorgeous pale belly were logged in systems documents, as were a few other vid sequences – Josh with his guy, recorded for friends but shared secretly across system links with a few guys who Jake new on station eight, Josh jacking off alone, Josh licking his dudes hot young nipples and stroking his fingers through his pubic hair. Jake was in love with him, he knew, and hoped he was doing well on vessel nine. Time varied from ship to ship, from vessel to vessel, but by the time the vids came through Josh had been on vessel nine, if the operation was going correctly, for long enough to have had his opening briefs on vessel policies, and to have met some of the vessel’s staff. He wondered what they would be doing with him –hopefully something sexy. He hadn’t mentioned him to Joe yet, but he was sure he’d received a brief from one of his subordinates in the investigative division he worked for. He was directorial staff now, and Jake could tell that, despite the higher prestige and greater station-credit benefit of the position he was bored with his new station entirely. Money was immaterial on station eight, as all staff officers and most associated personnel received all basic accommodation and requirements without any charge, however the concept of the station-credit did allow you to requisition quite a lot of system-protocol time, and quite a lot of extra work on research assignments and private investigations. It also had allowed Jake and Joe to requisition this private chamber for a good few station-days, and also all of the stimulant-narcotics and synth-gin they needed for a good time. They were together alone for as long as they wanted, and Joe was thinking what Jake was thinking – space shirts were not necessary for conversation, and neither were space pants.
Joe was removing his slightly silver-grey sheened space shirt, when Jake decided to break the news to him. “Some cute kid, looked about twenty, on station four, is transferring to vessel nine using procurement method nine one zero one nine v nine eight nine one.”
“The method where they told everyone you left me for commissar director Sarah on station sixteen, you mean.”
“Yes, I refused that transfer, but that’s beside the point. I’ve got some vids of him, he’s pretty hot.”
“He likes dudes, you like dudes, I like dudes, you know?” Joe said to Jake. “Is he alright?”
“He seems fine,” ‘Jake replied, “He’s cute. You don’t mind that I slept with him do you?”
Joe’s soul was crying, but on the outside he was fine. “Not at all,” he said, “I think you’re cute, and I love you.”
“You’re perfect,” Jake replied. He’d spent the past few nights working as an assistant on a minor project to send a new cryptographic system message to system Beta-sigma-assosciate-four. There wasn’t much there but a minor research station, but in a few hundred years Hub-star-eight and Hub-star-sigma-six-fourteen-beta-one would be beginning the preparation to send a colony fleet. Much like the colony fleet which had brought Joe and Jake’s ancestors to their current position in a stable orbit around planet-orbital-object-sigma-system-nine-one-nine-one-nine-one-nine, a orbital body serving as a gravity-anchor for the station’s current spatial position, far enough from Eco-sigma that it would not interfere with later colonisation activity.
“Want to watch one of the vids?” Jake asked Joe, seductively, slowly but carefully unbuttoning his grey-silver space pants. While research personnel would usually wear a more sombre grey-brown sheen, he was a intelligence-investigative directors romantic partner, and he had the authority to approve his uniform for private but not work purposes. And also his underwear- which were, at all times, pink, lace, and designed for women. He let him wear girls boxers sometimes, but they were never removed. Jake sometimes dreamed of living naked as his whore slave thing, but was always busy with work, except on the few weeks he had free every station year. He took his time with his pants, until Joe grabbed him and pinned him down, sliding his hand into the back of his girly-underwear, sliding a finger up his tight asshole. He stroked his ass with his other fingers, gently groping him. He understood that Jake was hard to handle, and also understood that he loved him, and was cheating on him not because he wanted to, but because he was his bitch and because he told him to. Or at-least he thought he did.
Jake’s back arched slightly, his passionate lover making passionate love to him. He wanted to jack him off, or lick him anywhere, but Joe had all of the power in this relationship and he knew it. And he loved it. Joe thought, as he slid his finger in and out of his tight ass, carefully pulling down his space-pants, that he’d make him lick his asshole. But then he realised that he’d like that. He was his dirty little whore, and he loved doing things like that. He could crush his balls, but that would turn him on, he theorised. The last time he tied him up and done that he came in a few minutes. Joe noticed the look of terror on his face, but then he kissed him passionately, and from then on he looked embarrassed every time he slapped him on the ass. Jake begged him not to do this when he saw him at work, or in the station-boulevards that served as transit-access-pathways between station-segments, but Joe could not resist the urge to turn his gorgeous young boyfriend on. He planned to make him his bitch further one day, to make him take up a lighter position as a research clerk for a few months and make him his bitch five days out of every station-week. He could tie him up and rape him as he would like to, and he knew that Jake liked it as much as he did. What he knew Jake liked more was the way his finger was sliding in and out of his tight asshole. He toyed with him for a minute, his other hand playing with his short trimmed brown pubes. He thought of the dreams he had been having lately in which Jake was a woman, and wondered if he would accept the fact that he liked dudes regardless. Jake had secretly been having similar fantasies since he was about eighteen. He also liked dudes. Jake was a dude who liked dudes with fantasies, and Joe was his hot perfect boyfriend. Jake could not live without him, and Joe would not let anyone believe that Jake was anything but his whore. He cleared up the issue with the vessel nine recruitment within days – they wanted him bad, but Joe needed him more. Joe loved Jake passionately, and Jake wanted him badly. What he wanted most was for Joe to slide his girl’s underwear down gently and let him lick his tight manly ass. He decided that Jake was ready for it, and Jake knew he was. So he pushed Jake down on the synthetic plastic decking of the chamber they had requisitioned, and told him he could do what he liked, as long as what he liked was what Joe wanted. He knew what Joe wanted, and so he told him. Joe grinned and kissed him, before grabbing him by the hair and forcing him down on the deck. Joe was ready for Jake to lick his tight ass, and Jake was hard and hot for him. He knew if he did he’d let him wear the girly-boxers, and not the girly-underwear. Joe was a hot guy, and Jake loved him, and his long hair that fell across his shoulders like a black-ice cascade.
Vessel nine, Jake knew, ran several command-system-unit divisions working on theoretical space combat projects, and he thought the cute redheaded kid would work well on that, if he passed the rigorous testing and examinations that vessel nine used for those divisions. There was little need at this point in colonisation for space combat, but if the ancient conflicts between Hub-system-six-alpha-one-four-nine-alpha-six and outlying star-networks four eight one and undesignated four system, and the raid parties from rogue colony fleet six-four-nine-beta-four were anything to go by, it could be necessary in future. Station eight was a station that had a large division dealing with the theory and practise behind it, and Jake had a few good friends in that division, although he was too low in rank to know much about it. He had been proposed a system-associate position in the flight cryptography development department, but had refused as he felt the position too responsible. He worked in the station communications cryptography department with Joe, and he was sexing him up all day and night because he loved him. Joe and Jake were deeply in love, and Joe knew he loved him. The cute redheads current position proposal was a personnel complement agent however, and he would be sexing up half the crew within a few vessel-weeks, if they could break his tight ass and his cute mouth in as expected. Vessel nine was a sexy ship, and while bisexual was common it was not enforced for the minority of the crew. Josh was a good kid, and Jake thought he was cool, and Joe didn’t know about him until he found out. Joe was hurt, but also he loved Jake and understood that Jake was easily deceived by cute redheads. Josh was a cute kid, and Joe thought he might watch one of the vid-flicks they had compiled with Jake, as they drank their synth-gin, and took a few shots of narcotic stimulants.
The feature opened with a res-graph that office alpha-nine four had put together of Josh sitting drinking alone, a voice-over saying in station language alpha, spoken by all station personnel, describing the poor young souls soul crushing agony at his inability to find a sexy young partner his own age. Josh drank quietly alone, until a gorgeous young ships procurement agent, listed as the tall mysterious agent from vessel nine, sat next to him. The scene continued for several minutes before moving to another shot, of Josh and Tom making out passionately in a lounge near the embarkation bay of the station. Tom’s hand was visible inside Josh’s space boxers, Josh not yet having reached the point where he exclusively wore girls underwear, as Jake had. Jake loved Josh, and Joe thought he was cute also Jake knew. The vid-flick continued for a while, before moving to a shot of Josh receiving a personnel brief on vessel, the sound-feed playing directly – a rare glimpse, the voiceover stated, of life aboard vessel nine. The feed transferred a few minutes later to a private conversation held between Josh and his former partner, of their undying love, and a picture-in-picture feed of them making out passionately. The voice-over began to describe the terrible personnel issue that came about forcing his transfer, but then happily moved over to the joyful reuinion the young couple would have on vessel. After the crew, Tom included, had had a chance to get to know him. Jake knew, as did half of his research division, that the personnel issue had been falsified. While personnel transfer security was tight for essential staff on station four, as was Josh’s asshole according to the close up shot that the vid-flick had transferred to during the time it had taken for Jake’s stimulant-narcotic solution effected synapses to phrase that last thought-stream. Josh was hot, Jake thought, as he fell gently into Joe’s arms. Joe loved Jake, and he slid his hand into his girl’s-underwear. He wondered if he was dreaming of being a girl again, despite the fact that he didn’t do things with girls and only liked dudes. He knew he had sub-conditioned him to be that way with some experimental systems that he’d requisitioned for a few days station-credits from experimental personnel-conditioning research office nine-one-alpha-four-alpha-six-alpha-six, and he also knew that he would love him more if he knew that he was brainwashing him to be his whore bitch slut.

Josh had been on vessel nine for fourteen weeks when he got the news that Sam, his gorgeous lover of a few occasions, had been slipped in to the personnel compliment. The guys had been ramming him hard all night, one at first, and then two, and then eventually three or four. Station sixteen were sexy as hell, and entirely open, despite their mass conjugative union policies. Classified briefs stated that while Eco-sigma would not be colonised in their lifetimes, it would be in the lifetime of their recent descendants. Time-transference between station time and vessel time was an issue, but the hot hard-core sex that had been ongoing between Josh and Tom, and eventually as he got over his nerves a few other ships crewmen, had helped with the transition greatly. Josh thought back to a few nights prior, when Tom had been sliding his tight finger up Josh’s tight asshole, as he rammed his face down on another personnel officer’s hard manly cock, a third pushing him down onto the bed they had made for him, and a fourth jacking off, his hand stroking his pubes, which were trimmed to the point that they were more a light stubble, a light red-brown stubble, and playing with the tip of his manly cock. He was an adorable little redhead, and he was cute.
When Sam had been picked up, himself an approved transfer for a position as a ships criminal personnel investigative officer, he had been surprised, but also entirely aroused by the opportunity. He would be sad to leave his friends on station four behind, but as he had been accepted for training as a staff investigative officer on station prior, and had discovered that personnel plans were to place his lover Josh with another station staff officer, as they felt that Sam would be better fit for another officer himself. Sam was not a loyalist of station four, after that point. He loved Josh, and when he found they were using transfer methods to get him on staff, he immediately accepted. He and Josh would be re-united on vessel, he dreamed, and he would be happy again. He had been placed in contact with staff investigator John, and had been profiled for a week for a directorial transfer. Roughly fifty of the four hundred vessel transfers were interviewed this way, as this was a personnel complement transfer rather than a system directorial transfer – in which situation the standard directorial complement would be one hundred and fifty, who would themselves be interviewed for the standard week. He was informed that the rest would be station personnel not applicable for station training, or lower ranking station personnel. He was informed that a number of them were prior refused, and had been accepted via diplomatic methods. Josh himself was listed as risk-refused, and he was briefed on the policy, policy code nine alpha one six one alpha one six eight. They planned to falsify a crew-conflict situation on station, which would require a transfer according to station four policy, to a differential segment of the station if personnel profiling methods applied. He was turned on, and a position on vessel was a great opportunity to him. Josh would be transferred by an agency procurement team on the day of embarkation, and Sam would be re-united with him on ship. All he had to do to secure his position was to break up with him briefly, for nothing more than a few station-weeks. Josh was a cute guy, and he would be fully willing to do this to secure a transfer off station onto a vessel such as vessel nine.
When Josh found out that Sam was on the personnel register, his heart raced. He loved him still, although he hadn’t seen him for so long, and he was passionately excited to know he was back together with him. Sam was hot, and while Josh was being rammed every night by the hot and gorgeous personnel staff of vessel nine, he could not believe that he was back together with Sam. He wondered if the hot young station eight research assistant Jake with his tousled brown hair, or his gorgeous partner Joe, had arranged this transfer. He asked the vessel staff officer giving the information if he was, but the officer pleasantly stated that their positions on vessel were unrelated. If Josh had called station sixteen, however, he mentioned, that they would have taken him directly at the next disembarkation. Vessel nine, however, were proud to have him on staff. He had applied for a position in the vessel’s security systems intelligence office, as well as in several other personnel segments, and he was hoping to be accepted by one or the other.
A ships staff crewmember using designation 55onealpha1, working on projects involving classified-secret space-combat manouvers with single and two-man complement micro-vessels, escorted Josh to meet Sam, his skin dark against Josh’s pale white skin, his short black hair standing highlight to Josh’s long red hair. When Sam saw Josh, he grabbed him immediately. “I’ve missed you, Josh,” he said, grabbing his ass and sliding one finger into the waistband of the girls boxers he was now wearing. “How have you been?”
Josh had been having a wonderful time on vessel, and he was being rammed in the ass and mouth by half the vessel’s male homo-erotic personnel. He was loving himself, and was happy to be living away from the sexually repressive personnel-directorship of station four. He mentioned this to Sam, who laughed and playfully bit him on his lip, before kissing him passionately and sliding his hand into his underwear. Josh was hard as a rock, and he pulled Sam close to him, kissing him passionately in response. He had been almost a virgin when they brought him aboard vessel nine, and now he was not only experienced but entirely subjugated by the sexual lust of the hot male personnel of vessel nine. Josh asked Sam quite pleasantly if he wanted him to leave them for him. Sam thought about it for a minute, earnestly wondering if he could have Josh to himself. He didn’t know him that well really, although he did strongly want to ram his tight little well-trained virgin asshole, and according to personnel data if he was broken in so easily, that he would do whatever he wanted him to. He knew he could always demand him back later, whenever he needed him, and that he would do whatever he wanted. Because the hot and manly staff personnel of vessel nine were gorgeous that way, and loved to break in tight little whore redhead virgin guys who they picked up on station to fill out their personnel complement. But it was more than that – they loved doing a service to star-sigma-alpha-system-ex-one-three by filling the lives and tight little holes of young guys, and also for a lot of the crew girls. Some of the crew liked being girls, and the sub-conditioning they had received from station eight, while formulatory, was being used frequently to further condition crew complement to make them sexy, gorgeous, and exactly what their partners wanted them to be. They had managed to capture some of scientific staff of that station a few years prior, and while one gorgeous research assistant with his tousled brown hair had refused, most of the rest had been transferred using method sixteen-alpha-six, with or without consent. The methods they were using were sexually co-ercive, and they had their own project running, despite the fact that their on vessel research division was only three hundred strong. The gained most of their data from stations eight, nine, four, and sixteen officially, as well as most of their personnel. They were assosciated heavily, however, as a vessel, with Hub-transit-vehicle six, one of the eight giant space-vessels which had in origin housed the drive-systems which allowed the star-gravitic-transit-drives which had carried vessel nine, as well as all associated stations, star-energy-power-systems, other materiels, and vessels, to the system. Hub-transit-vehicle six was currently in orbit around planetary body Eco-sigma, supporting the planetary habitation re-engineering required to turn the air of the planetary body from a grey haze to a beautiful tropical blue summer sky, and the seas from a grey mineral slurry to a water comparable to that on other systems. Vessel nine had last been in close spatial-contact with the vehicle over thirty years prior, but this was a secret very few knew in the system, the vast majority of whom were living either on vessel nine or vehicle six. Hub-transit-vehicles carried not only a complement crew large enough to staff the large drive-vehicles, but also to support to habitation modification of the planets and planetary bodies in system on arrival. Sam had received this briefing three vessel-weeks prior, as had Josh. But this didn’t matter to them much, as what mattered to them was that they were together and happy. Sam knew that Josh would like some private time, and Josh knew that Sam would like to ram his hard man cock up Josh’s tight but by now well-broken-in asshole. Staff-officer 55onealpha1, real name Zenje, was up for it also, but he had other engagements to make. He left the two of them together for a while, sitting outside the chamber he had left them in and taking a drink of synthetic narcotic-stimulant gin-synthate from a large flask which he kept attached to the belt of his standard vessel nine space-uniform. He was named after the culture of his ancestors, who had been born on one of the six large planetary bodies of Hub-star-system-six-one-six – a Hub-system due to the large number of habitable bodies existing in the system. He was turned on by the couple, but at his age he had settled down, and he hoped he himself would have a family to take off vessel at the next disembarkation. He had received a comm-message regarding a minor polite but tactful complaint from a personnel director on station four, but he had been instructed to ignore the guy and his bizarre repressive station four morality.
Sam grabbed Josh and pushed him down on the floor, pulling off his space-uniform shirt, the vessel nine sygno-glyph, a stylised nine superimposed over a vessel personnel recruits monogram tearing slightly beneath the manly passion of his strong vessel investigative officer’s forceful sexual desire. Josh’s pink nipples stood stark against his pale white skin, and he begged for more. He pushed his hands inside Sam’s shirt, as Sam gently unbuttoned it, sliding Josh’s girls-boxers down and pushing him up against the synth-metal-plastic-ceramic-material wall of the chamber, and ramming three fingers up Josh’s tight no-longer-a-virgin asshole. He was not surprised to see the slid in easily. Josh moaned and kissed him passionately, pulling back and demanding as strongly as he could that he ram him hard with his man cock. Sam played games with him for a while, squeezing his ass as he asked him if he could take it, licking his nipples and forcing his head back as he passionately kissed his neck. He eventually acceded to let him feel him up, as he started to jack him off, if he should agree to take him as hard and fast as he wanted to. He was used to that on ship, and he had been promised a good position in future. The position Sam wanted was Josh on his hands and knees, his boyfriend ready to take him up his ass, and ready to feel him ram right up against the wall of his tight asshole. Sam grabbed him by the shoulders, pulled his fingers out of his ass, and turned him around, his beautiful asshole central to the vid-display-area of the camera that was secretly installed in the room. He left him in that position for a few minutes, sexually ready to take him, gasping softly at his own arousal, sweat forming on his young red-haired brow. Josh was ready, but Sam was not going to pass up the opportunity for a good shot. Josh begged him and begged him, “Sam, take me now, I can’t take it,” but Sam was not ready to let him go just yet. After a few minutes, he agreed to ram his hot cock up Josh’s tight ass, and Josh came in a minute. Sam laughed and continued, ramming his hot manly cock up Josh’s tight ass, and playing with his perfect cock, the red stubble of his shaved pubes exposing the perfect white skin of his manly regions.
He kept going for a while, as Josh moaned, the perfect little redheaded dude beneath his perfect hands, his perfect ass and Sam’s perfect cock pressed together. Eventually he came, and pulled his manly cock out of Josh’s tight ass. He knew he was sore, but he didn’t care. He was just glad to see him again, and glad to know that they would be together. Zenje was sitting outside, and was obviously expecting them to be done soon enough, but neither of them cared. They were too busy making love. Sam laid Josh down on the deck of the chamber, and kissed him passionately. Josh didn’t want to tell him, but he loved him so much it hurt, and also his ass was quite sore. Sam had been thinking of asking Josh to participate in a sub-conditioning experiment for a while, using the methods they were developing on vessel. Station eight were a very high ranking research station, and rarely leaked a project before it was complete, but the sub-conditioning methods being developed on vessel nine were near perfection. Josh would lose his soul, and his heart, and his independence, but he would also be Sam’s bitch, and he would do what he wanted when he wanted. Vessel policy was for personnel agreements to be held, and he knew if he agreed he could not pull out. But despite the pain of the hardcore sexual passion he had been having with Sam, he had not wanted Sam to pull out. He felt scared for a minute, as he did every time he was alone, every time he was not taking it in his ass, mouth, and feeling his sexually dominant personnel officer boyfriends’ hands on his shaven pubes, gently stroking his pink nipples, stark against his pale white skin, since he had agreed to undergo a new experimental drug-personnel-conditioning method under Tom’s hot manly seductive pressure. They had assured him they could fix it, but they honestly didn’t want to. They were having too much fun with the cute little redhead, sliding their fingers up his asshole, and playing with his cute shaven balls.
Sam was done with Josh, but Josh couldn’t bear to stop. He could cum again, he knew, and he would. Josh was a boy all over, and he couldn’t stop thinking about the cute young station eight research assistant with his tousled brown hair. He wondered if the boyfriend he had mentioned knew about them, and he was sure he did, but he hoped privately that he was his little secret. Sam knew, having spoken to them, that he was not.
“We don’t have much time left,” Sam said to Josh, gently kissing him on the lips. Josh grabbed him and pulled him close, kissing him passionately and biting his gorgeous lips. Zenje was waiting outside, he knew, but there would be plenty of time for more hot man-sex later. He wondered idly if he would be with Sam forever, if Sam would want him back. He remembered a time, fourteen vessel-weeks ago, when he was just a timid red-haired almost virgin, with one boyfriend and a life consigned to a position on station as a minor resident. Now he was a vessel-staff-recruit living on a reconissance scout vessel, broken in and abused, and finally reunited with his lover Sam. Sam had longed to tell him he was on vessel since he had arrived, but had been unable to as he had been receiving opening briefs. He quickly pulled his shirt back on, and buttoned up his space pants. Josh’s girl-boxers lay torn on the floor, but that wasn’t important. He lay back on the deck of the chamber for a while, out of breath but also ready for more. He needed more, and he knew Sam was ready, but Zenje was waiting for them to finish up. Sam pulled him up, now fully dressed, and pulled his space-pants on. He tried to rearrange his lovers space-shirt, the buttons torn off, the sygno-glyph on the right breast showing a personnel recruits symbol still, not damaged.
Zenje smiled at the young couple as they left the chamber, and said to them, “You’ve been a bit too long, but it’s not important. You’re new to life on vessel, and we’re pretty easy-going for the first few vessel-weeks.” Sam grabbed Josh by the arm and pulled him close to him, turned on by his lover’s presence, and entirely excited at the new life they would be leading together on vessel. The vessel would not be docking at another station or vehicle for, according to brief, another five vessel-years, but it would stop eventually. In the mean-time, there was plenty of time on vessel for Sam and Josh to love each other, and hopefully they would be kept on staff. Sam was having a hot time, and the afterglow from the hot passionate sex he had been having with Josh was barely better than the afterglow he had from the opening briefings he had received on vessel. Zenje led the two of them along the corridor to their living quarters. He had arranged for them to have adjoining rooms, and while they were small, containing only a bed and a small video screen each, the beds were wide enough that they could make passionate love together, and maybe invite a few guys back. There was a personnel chamber along the corridor at which synth-drugs, vessel conditioning drugs, and synthetic semi-vodka could be purchased, although every officer received a basic ration, as did personnel complement staff awaiting appointment such as Josh. Josh was hoping to be appointed a good position, and he couldn’t be happier with his new life, safe on board vessel. Sam grabbed him by the hip, and invited him and Zenje to join him at the drinking-chamber. Josh, feeling turned on by the proposal of a drink with Sam, and more turned on by the hot sex with him and maybe a few of the vessel’s staff personnel, agreed, and he walked hand in hand with Sam and Zenje to the drinking-chamber for drinks and other commodities.