“You could have at least waited for him to come off the operating table.”
“I couldn’t . . . (huff) . . . help it . . . (puff). I think we may have overimplanted the scent. Come over here and . . .”
“My God, I think you’re right. God, god, finish with it. I must . . . as well. And we can see how well he can take an enhanced size. You’re no . . .”
“And you too obviously are, you are saying. You have been insufferable since you had it done. And until we do this more, you are limited. Too soon—and I’ve seen the frustration in you. In the meantime, you declare yourself by having it done. Everywhere you walk.” The voice was snappish.
“And that’s half the satisfaction,” came the quick, equally snappish retort. “Others knowing what I could do. You’re just too close with your money. You could well afford . . . but I don’t know . . . we shouldn’t . . .”
“That’s rather academic now—in the circumstance. And I know what you think.”
“We’ve discussed this before, James. You aren’t too old. We can be again. You could have this done, or some semblance of it. But this one, he’s still on the table . . . perhaps the other room, together, with our hands . . .”
“Fuck it. It’s perfectly safe. We used Instant Heal. And . . . and . . . I can’t help myself. It marks our success. And he would have to be tested anyway. We can verify—the tapes will show—and they won’t have to pay for a formal test.”
My consciousness swam up from the depths of the anesthesia. I was lying, naked on an operating table, strong lights trained on me from above, my feet in stirrups and raised and spread. I looked down across my belly. A gray-haired man, still wearing a surgical mask and in a medical coat, unbuttoned and spread to reveal a naked hairy chest and the hint of the beginnings of a pot belly, was standing close in between my spread thighs. He was palming my buttocks with what felt like latex-gloved hands, and his torso was moving backward and forward as he rocked on the balls of his feet. I could feel him inside me. He was fucking me.
A normal man would have been shocked at awakening to this. A man such as it was my lot in life to be wouldn’t be shocked—but I certainly was surprised. I wasn’t in the Pleasure Palace, where playing doctor was routine. I was just surprised to awaken here . . . like this.
He wasn’t filling—at least at first—but it was pleasurable, and I was having sensations I’d never had before. My channel seemed to have a life of its own. Muscles I had never felt before began to clamp down on his cock and undulated across and around it. My channel was beginning to react as promised, making him feel huge—as he was murmuring in awe—and me feel filled. We both gasped and groaned at the adjustment. His moaning was telling me how much pleasure this was giving him, which, in turn, clicked on a newly provided reaction in me. It was giving pleasure to me too—far more than I had before they had selected me from the Pleasure Palace for the enhancements. And with concentration, I found I could control the muscles now working inside me, and the groan I heard from below me told me that I could produce this reaction at will, with only the intentional working of the muscles inside my channel.
“If you insist. But finish it, finish it. I must . . .” The voice was insistent, off to the side, but close. I turned my head and found myself staring into a fully erect cock of more than a foot in length and two inches in girth. Yet another doctor stood there, in surgical gear, but with his green coat open, exposing the tanned torso of a fit young man who was no more than thirty and well worked. He had both of his hands wrapped around his monstrous cock, and he was moaning his need.
I had heard of the cosmetic procedures they had mastered, of the male enhancements that, in turn, were prompting research into enhancements in the Pleasure Giver world as well.
I had been bred to give pleasure—long months of grooming and sculpting and training—but the enhancement breakthroughs for men who wanted more drove my work areas into new technology as well, if only out of necessity, for survivability in the literal sense among the Pleasure Giver ranks.
I heard the joyous cry of release and felt the gray-haired doctor’s warm cum spread inside me. He fell away, and the younger doctor was muscling in between my legs now. I knew even more than they did that this was a real test of their surgical capabilities. I had never even seen an enhanced cock like this, let alone taken one.
I arched my back and gave a little cry of surprise and awe as he slowly slid into me. And into me and into me. I felt my channel walls spreading. Resisting at first, but then accepting and exercising their newly provided flexibility and stretch capability.
I groaned and grunted as did the young doctor, but he was giving me words of assurance and encouragement and telling me that no one had been prepared for this as well as I was—and telling me that the scent of me was driving him wild and that I was beautiful and that he had wanted to do this, fuck me, since he’d seen me, naked, in preop.
And then he was inside me, farther up inside me than I’d ever been invaded before. And his cock was throbbing deep inside me.
“Oh God, oh Shiiittt, Yessss,” he exclaimed, as my channel sheathed him tightly and, by my own new-found will, the muscles of my inner walls began to undulate and make love to his cock.
That was the last of the talking for a while, as, with grunts and extended groans, he began to pump me and I responded willingly, joyfully.
We were both breathing heavily and panting and gasping, and, even bound to the table as I was, I set my hips into motion and we fucked hard, furiously, like wild animals. I thrilled at the realization that the doctor had gone to the limit with his enhancement elections. He had received the stamina augmentation as well. We fucked on, well beyond the endurance of those who normally came to me at the Pleasure Palace, and he brought me to ejaculation twice before he arrived at that threshold himself.
With a shared cry of joy, we both came together when he finished, and the young doctor stood there, between my legs, his hands clutching my waist, and his eyes searching out mine and conveying how glorious the experience was for him. I did not gainsay him for that. It was glorious for me as well. Even the feel of my channel walls retracting as he slowly went soft, still sheathing him tightly, sent chills up my spine.
“They’ll pay us millions for the enhancements we’ve given him,” I heard a voice murmur from just beyond the periphery of my side vision.
* * * *
I sat in the steamy bath with them, watching them, as had been my instruction. They were sitting opposite me, the steam rising from the bath into the cool night air in the open pavilion, the breeze flowing through and causing the draperies at the red-lacquer corner pillars to billow. The soft lute music in the background, seemingly wafting on the breeze, was contrasted by the guttural moaning of my fellow Pleasure Giver, Peng, as Feng Lee raised and lowered him on his cock.
Feng Lee had held Peng in his lap and worked the young man on his cock in the bath for some thirty minutes, and Peng had wanted to come twice in that time, but when he reached the edge, Feng Lee held him tight and steady and commanded him not to come. Peng had thus far been able to hold himself in check, but I knew he could not last for long.
At Feng Lee’s command, Peng rose up off his lap and Feng Lee stood and climbed out of the tub, grunting as Peng took up a towel and dried off the long, lean, wiry body of the middle-aged man. His muscles were ropey and there were a few scars to mark his years and his valor in battle. Feng Lee was well over six feet tall and his arms showed the power of him. Dried, he exhibited that power by lifting Peng by the waist and carrying him to a low divan, laying him down on his back, wishboning his legs, and resuming his fucking of Peng’s channel.
Peng was moving with the fuck and moaning deeply. I wanted to take myself in hand too, to share in Peng’s taking. But I knew that this was not what Feng Lee wanted. And I knew it would be folly to displease Feng Lee. I knew Peng wanted to come. But he knew he could not do so until he received Feng Lee’s permission. At a signal from Feng Lee, Peng was permitted to take his phallus in his hand and slowly work it, while Feng Lee held his legs wide and continued stroking inside him.
I could tell when Feng Lee was nearing his time, because he was stroking faster and deeper, and I could hear his ragged breathing from where I sat, still, in the steam pool, trying not to join them by stroking myself. At a grunted signal, both men tensed, and as Feng Lee signaled permission and I saw Peng begin his ejaculation, I knew that the release had been simultaneous, as Feng Lee’s buttocks were gripping and jerking and the expression on Peng face was one of being flooded internally.
Feng Lee pulled out of Peng and clapped his hands, and Peng rose from the divan and left the pavilion. Feng Lee walked back to the steam tub and entered it. He walked over to me and lifted a hand. At that signal, I rose up and he took my hand and we both climbed out of the tub.
I dried him with a towel and then he dried me. We both wrapped cotton indigo yukatas around our naked bodies and secured them at the waist with a kaku obi.
Feng Lee took my hand and led me over to a low teak table, where we settled, cross-legged side by side on low silk cushions.
A simple pottery tea pot and two cylindrical cups sat on the table. Feng Lee turned to me and raised an eyebrow, and I leaned over and poured tea into one of the cups and handed it to him with both hands. He took one sip and set the cup on the table and then poured tea in the other cup and held it in front of me. I took it in both my hands and raised it to my lips and took a swallow. As I put the cup down on the table, Feng Lee took up a silken cord and pulled my arms around to my back and tied my wrists together. After that, he put one broad hand at the back of my head and ran his fingers deep into my hair and tugged my head back, causing my back to arch back. With his other hand he brushed the front of my yukata open, exposing one side of my chest. He lowered his face to my chest, and I flinched as he bit my nipple. He held the aureole firmly in his teeth and the tip of his tongue went to my nipple and flickered over it. His other hand moved to my thigh and worked its way into the folds of the yukata until it found its way to my bare flesh. Then it moved up my thigh and he took my balls in his hand, and positioned his fingers to separate and extend them. And then he began to squeeze.
I was panting and whimpering, and I cried out when he squeezed my balls hard, but he instructed me in a gruff voice—the first time he had spoken to me since I’d entered his chamber—to be still—not to cry out, although I could moan and groan as much as I wanted—that he enjoyed hearing me do that.
Sour and sweet, he called it—one of his favorite techniques. Controlled pain to accentuate the delicious lovemaking. Every movement controlled and fluid, each one with a purpose, seeking a desired result. He was a masterful cocksman.
While still gripping my balls, he gave a command, and an attendant came forward and pulled the yukata off my arms, which exposed my upper torso to the master, and backed away into the shadows. My chest now lay exposed to his teeth, and, still arching my back with a grip at the back of my head, Feng Lee moved his other hand to my cock and he began to masturbate me, slowly, deliciously. His mouth was moving over my chest and up onto my shoulders and into my neck and to my ear lobe, where he nipped at me with sharp little bites that had me breathing heavily and moaning.
I was close to coming, and he sensed that, and told me that I couldn’t. His teeth moved back to my other nipple and he bit into the aureole there as he had done with the first one and once again sent his tongue to flicking the nipple.
I begged him for permission to come, and twice he stopped and held me fast while I fought against an unpermitted ejaculation. After I had fought off the need the second time, he began to suck my nipple hard and his hand pistoned my cock. I writhed and moaned and groaned and begged, and, although receiving no signal, at length I could withstand it no more and came in three strong spoutings inside the yukata.
Apparently this was by Feng Lee’s design, because he didn’t admonish me. He merely lifted his cum-besplattered hand to my mouth for me to clean off. Then, with the same hand, he slapped me smartly across the mouth, jerked my head back up with the grip he had in my hair, and then leaned in and gave me a long, lingering kiss on the mouth. After that, he let loose of his grip in my hair and let me sit up straighter again.
He unbound my wrists and raised his eyebrow and I lifted his tea cup and handed it to him with two hands. He sipped at the cup, set it back down on the table, and lifted my cup to me. I sipped from the cup and set it down on the table. As I did so, he took one of my hands and laid it on his thigh and then moved it into the folds of his yukata until I was touching his cock. It was half hard.
After placing my hand around his cock, he took his away, and with both of his hands, he parted the yukata under his kaku obi, exposing just his cock. His hands went to the back of my head, and he lowered my mouth down to and over his cock, and I gave him head while he slowly moved his hips and fucked into my mouth cavity, reaching the back of my throat with each upward stroke. After the first couple of exploratory pumps, he held my head tightly and power pumped my mouth cavity until I gasped and gagged. Then he released my head and let me continue at my own pace and design.
I gave him suck for a good fifteen minutes, knowing he had phenomenal staying power.
In time, though, his cock was fully engorged and throbbing. Feng Lee clapped his hands and gave a loud command. “Switch to Channel 10.”
Instantly we were in a rock-bound subterranean chamber complete with dripping walls and echoes and all sorts of medieval battle and torture equipment. I was naked and in a black-leather sling hanging from the center of the ceiling of the circular chamber, my arms and legs tied off at the wrists and ankles at the four corners of the sling.
Feng Lee was standing below me, wearing black leather chaps and vest and boots and hood with eye and mouth slit, and was fisting a hand whip.
He was in full erection. He rammed his cock inside my channel and immediately started to fuck me deep in long strokes as my cries and moans and groans reverberated around the chamber and were amplified so that they continued even when I was silent.
He flicked my body with the whip and grabbed my balls with the other hand he had moved down to my crotch and rolled and squeezed them as I writhed and begged and cried out under his relentless deep fucking.
As soon as he came deep inside me, he barked out “Channel One,” and we were once again in the captain’s chambers of the Universe Explorer 132. I was in a heap on the floor, naked, and an attendant was already coming forward to cover Captain Feng Lee with a silken robe.
“Very good, Jeremy,” he said. “I enjoyed that session. That will relieve both my stress and boredom for some time to come. You may go back to the Pleasure Quarters now. But I may call on you again soon. Very nice. Yes, that was very nice indeed.”
I lay there, panting, happy that I had performed to satisfaction, as the captain was guided by his attendant to his shower. In twenty minutes he would be back on the bridge, refreshed and in hands-on control of the ship’s approach to the Planet Ekton.
* * * *
“There must be some mistake. I’ve just serviced the captain.”
“No mistake,” the PS—the Pleasure Scheduler—responded. “You are expected at the First Engineer’s chambers in fifteen minutes.” Then he sighed. “This is your first outbound journey. You don’t know how it is when we hit the empty zone. With all of the tension of the long flight and the coming mission and the boredom of the time we’ve been out here, doing practically nothing, the crew wants more pleasure. And that’s what you are here for. That’s what you were signed onto the journey for.”
“I didn’t sign on to the journey,” I said, “I was instructed to report to serve my national duty this way.”
I was just being stubborn. I knew I had been bred for this. I wasn’t here just because I had the body and the look that melted men. I had been bred—groomed, sculpted, and trained—for those, of course, but, beyond that, I also had been enhanced to have a scent that made men’s cocks stand at attention just by being near me, and I had been operated on to have a channel with greater than normal depth capability to accommodate the most popular male cosmetic alterations of the era and with muscles that made love to men’s cocks in a way that no unaltered male or female could. My channel was engineered to be a tight fit for whatever size the organ inside was, to expand—within limits, of course—or to contract as desired. Science had even developed a way to increase the volume of a man’s ejaculate and, especially in Pleasure Givers like me, to scent the ejaculate to heighten the arousal of the taker. And an immunity system was emplaced in me that was capable of making me able to take men—safely for both of us—without the use of condoms. That had been the second-most welcome advancement—beyond the cosmetic surgery enhancements.
Medical science had been kind to me as well in the process. My own arousal and rejuvenation powers had been enhanced by the best medical advancements of our time. I could take a man, or a series of men, again and again in succession or together, because I had been bred and enhanced to flourish under this manner of attention. I had been bred and augmented with the desire to have another man’s thighs between mine and a cock working deep inside me.
There were Pleasure Givers bred and augmented with all of the capacities of pleasing other men with their arousing scent and their specially designed channels but without the desire to couple—with the opposite, an aversion to it or, in advanced models, with switchable reactions. This was because there were men willing to pay who wanted the reluctance, who wanted to have to struggle and overpower to get satisfaction, who wanted to rape. With these, there would be resistance and the sounds and actions of the forcible taking to please the taker, and with the newer models, when the taker was satisfied with the reluctance but fully saddled and now wanted acceptance, he would slide a disk in the small of the Pleasure Giver’s back, and the Pleasure Giver became a willing partner.
There were times when I wondered what it would be like to be a new model—to experience the depths and then the heights. But I shudder at the thought of science going that far, manipulating the Pleasure Giver to that extent, dehumanizing them totally. I may have been altered and augmented to bring men more pleasure and to accommodate the enhancements now available to the taker, but I still felt that I was in control of my emotions—while I can appreciate that my abilities to take pleasure have been augmented.
“Just feel lucky you are on the elite squad, only servicing the high-ranking officers. Think of those down here,” the PS said.
I didn’t have to think of them. I could hear them, a cacophony of groans and moans and screams from beyond the doors that lined the walls of this reception area for the Pleasure Quarters. The crew taking care of their tensions, living their sexual fantasies—within reason, of course—or at least until someone caught them going beyond the bounds and made them stop.
“They do not have the channels down here that they transmit directly up to the high officers’ quarters,” I said. “Those are taxing.”
“No. Here they mostly do what comes naturally, which often is beyond taxing,” the PS countered. “The lower crew members are obviously rougher with their wants and less refined than the senior officers. Proportionally, twice as many of the Pleasure Givers of the lower ranks down here do not return to Earth as those in the elite squad.”
“They can be rough enough top side—and cruel,” I said stubbornly.
“Statistics don’t lie. The universe is constructed on statistics,” the PS responded, equally stubbornly.
“I don’t know why they don’t assign women for this,” I said.
“You know that was tried, and there were too many problems with that. Earth ships and time travel and women just don’t mix. This system has worked just fine for two hundred years. Now, be off with you. By the time you reach the First Engineer’s quarters, it will be your time.”
“I am supposed to have more grooming and sculpting time than this,” I mumbled. “I haven’t been to the gym today.”
“I told you. We’re in the empty zone. When we land on Ekton, you’ll find that most of the crew will be thinking of something else altogether, and you’ll have all of the grooming and sculpting time you need. You’ll be begging for it then. You’ve been programmed to need it often.”
“I will have to look you up then,” I said, with a smile.
“That’s what I’m counting on,” the PS answered, with a smile of his own.
I sighed and turned toward the door. I would be happier when I got out in the corridor and away from the noise of my fellow Pleasure Givers fully giving today.
“Oh, and Jeremy . . .”
“Yes?” I said, turning. I could see concern in the PS’s face. I knew he was soft for me—mainly because I made him hard for me and gave him pleasure on the side for special scheduling consideration—although this obviously wasn’t working today.
“You may wish to stay out of Lucius’s way. The rumor is that he’s gunning for you.”
“Gunning for me? I hardly ever see Lucius. He’s assigned to the captain’s bed. We hardly see him down here at all.”
“Well, there’s also a rumor that the captain is on the cusp of changing bedmates. Word is that soon you will be sleeping with the captain at night.”
I groaned. It, of course, was the highest honor to be in the ship captain’s bed at night. But I knew enough of Feng Lee to know that I would not get much sleep at night in his bed. That’s why I saw little of Lucius. He spent his day in the Pleasure Quarters sleeping chambers, because his hole was being pistoned throughout the night not to mention his body experiencing the captain’s refined techniques.
“Thanks for the warning,” I said, and then I left the Pleasure Quarter and took the tube to the thirty-fourth level. I shuddered as my hand touched the access screen to the First Engineer’s chambers. He was a mountain of a man and, as far as I knew, had the thickest, longest cock on the Universe Explorer 132. He also was a mean son of a bitch.
I entered a jungle.
“Run. Resist,” was the barked command.
And I was running through the jungle, tripping over the thick foliage under foot, sweeping aside hanging vines, listening to the heavy breathing behind me, which was getting closer and closer.
A heavy-muscled, hairy arm wrapped itself around my belly and lifted me off the ground. Vines were being pulled down from the overhead branches and wrapped around my spread arms and my chest and belly and legs—until I was trapped in a web of thick, ropey vines, suspended between tree limbs and jungle floor.
Animals were chattering and screeching, broadcasting the danger throughout the jungle, scurrying for cover. But there was no cover for me. I was trapped, bound, held immobile.
I could hear the heavy breathing, the snuffling. I turned my head, and saw exactly what I suspected I would see. A mountain of a man. All bulging muscle and mean expression and grinning sneer. A big mitt snaked around and palmed my belly and tilted my pelvis up as I was suspended, limbs spread-eagled there. The thrust of his huge cock up into me was swift and strong and deep.
But then another face appeared before me— that of the Second Engineer. Not scheduled, but yet also privileged, so there was no complaint to be given. He too was breathing heavily, driven wild by the scent of me. And I felt his hands on my waist and his cock head at my entrance at the root of the buried cock of the First Engineer, and then he too was pushing inside me. I set my channel muscles to pleasing them both together, and they grunted and groaned in unison.
And they fucked me in consort to exhaustion, although at length the Second Engineer fell away, spent, while the First Officer fucked on.
“Channel One,” he barked after he had filled me with his cum, and instantaneously we were in the First Engineer’s chambers on the Universe Explorer 132 once more.
I lay there, moaning, waiting for him to go to the shower before I picked myself up. But the First Engineer didn’t go to the shower, He stooped down and swept me up with an arm under my belly and carried me into his bed chamber. He slammed me down on the surface of his bed on my back, slapped my legs apart, and thrust inside me once more and started to piston fuck me.
“Gotta get what I’m gonna get from you now, I guess,” he grunted. “Word is you’ll be reserved for the captain soon. And this is just too good a tail to see out of circulation.”
I threw my arm over my face and moaned, marking time until my channel was my own again, if only briefly.
As the First Engineer fucked me, I heard other sounds from across the bed chamber. I had wondered where the Second Engineer had gone. Now I knew. I had seen Nathan’s name on the scheduling chart for this block of time. And now that I thought of it, he had been scheduled with the Second Engineer. The two had just decided to combine their session without registering it with the PS.
I turned my head, searching out the source of the fierce struggle. They were over at the side of the chamber, draped over a chair. Nathan was under the powerfully built naked body of the Second Engineer and struggling as hard as he could against him, but the diminutive Nathan was no match for the man who worked the heavy-lifting and mechanical jobs in the bowels of the Universe Explorer 132.
Nathan was backed into the chair and beating on the Second Engineer’s bulging chest with his small fists. The Second Engineer was laughing and forcing his knees between Nathan’s thighs, spreading the young man’s legs, his hard, needy cock bouncing off the young man’s belly. Nathan broke the grip, if only momentarily, and the Second Engineer backhanded him across the mouth.
Stunned, Nathan went limp, and the Second Engineer reared his bulbous buttocks back and then thrust his sword forward, up into Nathan’s tiny hole. The pain and surprise lifted Nathan’s body up off the surface of the chair and even further onto the Second Engineer’s cock, and he began to scream and writhe and scratch at his assailant’s back. The Second Engineer deep thrusted inside the hole that seemingly was being stretched to the limit, bouncing Nathan’s small body back and forth in the chair, and Nathan’s screams subsided into gags and gurgles as the Second Engineer’s meaty fists closed around his neck.
Nathan collapsed and lay there like a rag doll. When the Second Engineer released his choke hold and used his hands on Nathan’s waist to draw the young man’s pelvis toward him with each upward thrust, Nathan just whimpered, wept quietly, and spread his legs as wide as he was able.
Apparently the Second Engineer was growing bored with Nathan’s placid response now to the fuck, and I saw the engineer’s hand go behind Nathan’s back, and I knew his finger was on the disk at the base of Nathan’s back that, when slid to the side, would change the young man’s attitude toward the taking.
The change in Nathan was automatic and frightening. He suddenly couldn’t get enough of the Second Engineer’s cock, and I could tell from the effect of the Second Engineer’s stroking that Nathan had set his channel muscles undulating over the cock inside him. The two suddenly were a well-engineered fucking machine, giving and receiving at the height of mutual pleasure.
Not for the first time, I was grateful that my own transformation had not been taken to the extreme, to the dehumanizing level, that Nathan’s had—adjusted to the ability to go from the depths to the heights by the mere slide of a disk at the small of one’s back at the manipulation and whim of the taker.
But then my attention was brought back to the senior engineer who was fucking me. I could feel he was close to ejaculation, and, as pleasured as I was myself, I needed sleep more than a cock moving inside me. I set my channel muscles into overdrive on his cock to bring him to release sooner than later.
* * * *
“Oh, no, not again,” I whined when I struggled back to the Pleasure Quarters scheduling desk. “My name is on the board again? It can’t be.”
“Oh, but it is,” the PS said. He was trying hard not to laugh. But he was frazzled as well, and disconcerted—so it was a hysterical laugh he was trying to choke off. The door to one of the side rooms was open and a doctor was inside trying to resuscitate the limp body of one of the lower-ranked Pleasure Givers.
“Who am I scheduled with?” I asked. “There shouldn’t be that many off duty.”
“It’s Julian,” the PS said. “He’s always off duty. At least until we reach Ekton.”
“Oh, well, then,” I said, suddenly not so angry. Julian was the second ranker on the mission’s diplomatic team. He was as old as the sun and was on the team because of his great historical knowledge and experience in diplomatic negotiations. He had also taken me under his wing on this journey. He had been kind to me.
When I touched the access screen of Julian’s chambers with my palm, the doors slid open and I was surprised to find only his chambers facing me. He was still in Channel One mode here.
I found him sitting on a chaise lounge under a portal to the heavens. His high rank qualified him to be one of the few who had visual access to the stars in his chambers.
“You called for me, Julian?” I asked. “And yet there is no fantasy channel established.”
“I did not sign for you, Jeremy, to satisfy my sexual needs. I signed to give you some relief. And I signed for the night. I know, as you probably are beginning to know, how taxing this part of the journey is on our Pleasure Givers. I’ve often said there should be some sort of rationing while we are in the empty zone—or they should stock up with extra Pleasure Givers—maybe shuttle them out for just this period. This is when our allotted stock of Pleasure Givers is depleted the most. Statistically, it just isn’t cost effective to run a universe explorer this way.”
I walked over and sat down beside him. “You do not wish to have me?” I asked. “At the beginning of the journey, you asked for me on occasion. I no longer arouse you?”
“At the beginning of the journey I was younger—and feeling much more well,” he said. And then he laughed.
“You are not well?” I asked. I was genuinely concerned. Sometimes Julian was the only one who made this existence bearable for me.
“It will pass,” he answered. “It always has before.”
“But you don’t want me?”
“I’m not sure I could have you. But of course I want you. You are the most beautiful young man on this vessel. Everyone wants you. In fact, I’ve heard the captain is going to reserve you as his bedmate soon.”
“So, I’ve heard,” I murmured. “But I will believe it when and if it happens.”
“And when it does—no, even now—I counsel you to be very careful of Lucius.”
“So I have already been warned,” I answered. “But thank you for telling me as well. May I try? May I try to give you the pleasure?”
“Yes, of course,” he said. “But it must be your choice to give. I would not take advantage of you—what has been made of you. I sometimes think that we have expended too much effort on developing our ability to manipulate the human race to gain more sexual pleasure. There could have been more effort put into medical advances that enhanced other aspects of life. And it seems we go to great lengths to make our humans more mechanical and our hominoids more human—all in pursuit of the ultimate ejaculation.”
“I think you perhaps fly in the face of human instinct, Julian,” I said with a laugh. “What could be more important to a man than the sex act—and that ultimate release?”
“All so true, but perhaps truer for a young man of your age than an old man of mine. Still, it seems we are on a self-perpetuating cycle with the sex enhancements. No sooner had we perfected the enlargement of the male sex organ than we had to develop means to enlarge the receptacle for the sex organ and augment its ability to arouse.”
“I think you think on these things too much, Julian,” I whispered. “I am more interested in you in the here and now. Right now, here and now, I would like to see how large I can make your sex organ for our mutual pleasure.”
Julian didn’t object. He laid back into his cushions and nodded his head in slight assent.
I parted the folds of his robe and brought out his phallus. He had been a powerful, strongly built man at one point—with a phallus to match. Now he was limp. But I could feel some life coming into him as I stroked his cock with my hand, and opening his robe completely, I kissed him from his lips down to his belly and then took his cock in my warm mouth.
“I think . . . I think I want you now,” he said at long last in a trembling, low voice. And indeed, I thought I had made him hard enough for the attempt. “But I don’t know . . . I don’t know. My bones ache and seem so brittle. I don’t know if . . .”
“Here, we will use these cushions,” I said. “They will raise you high enough.” He stood until I could gather the cushions and pile them on the chaise lounge against the portal. Then I helped Julian to climb them and sit on his improvised high throne. Standing in front of him I lowered my mouth on his cock and regained the hardness that had been lost in the short time we were making arrangements. Then I climbed up on the chaise with my feet planted on either side of his thighs as he sat on his makeshift throne, positioned his cock head inside my hole, and placed the heel of my palms on the portal, above and at either side of his head. And I slowly fucked myself on his cock until he came with a weak seeding and a satisfied sigh.
He laughed a low, warm laugh.
“This was funny?” I asked.
“No, nothing you did for me was funny,” he answered, stroking my chest with long, elegant fingers. “I thank you for the attention you’ve given an old man. I laugh because with all of the technology of the foreplay and sex delivery, sometimes the old methods are still the best and most effective.”
“Thank you,” he then said as I climbed down from the chaise. “I have you for the night. You can sleep here on the chaise alone, if you like—or in my bed with me.”
“I would like to sleep with you,” I answered.
“If you can indulge an old man then,” he said. “And if you can be gentle, I would like you to . . .”
“I can be gentle,” I said. “And you don’t have to ask. You can command. These are your scheduled hours with me. I will do anything you command. But I will do it with more pleasure because you asked.”
I fucked him gently in his bed, both of us on our side and his buttocks cuddled into my pelvis. I did everything I could not to put weight on his frail body, and his channel proved quite resilient enough to take all of my cock in and to enjoy the languid fucking I gave him.
He came in droplets again, with me timing my flow inside him to match his, and then he sighed and closed his eyes.
He never opened his eyes again. The next morning, he was cold and stiff. And I was greatly saddened at having lost my best friend on the Universe Explorer 132, even though I was also happy that I had been able to bring him pleasure in his last hours.
That was my duty. I was on this ship to provide men pleasure and a release for their tensions. But Julian had always honored me by letting whatever I gave him be my choice.
* * * *
I knelt in front of a standing Feng Lee, he in a black priest’s cassock, me in white altar boy vestments. An altar behind me. Feng Lee placed his hands on the back of my head and pulled it into his crotch, and I mouthed his cock through the black, rough cloth. He reached down and unbuttoned the cassock at his crotch, and I gave him head, flesh on flesh.
He lifted me and laid me on the small of my back on the altar, spreading my legs and hooking them over his shoulders. Then he slowly pushed the hem of my vestments up my thighs and above my hips. I was naked underneath, exposed to him, and he sucked my cock and rolled my balls around in his cheeks and nipped them as I moaned and groaned and gasped—and came for him.
Feng Lee slowly unbuttoned and spread his cassock and moved closer in between my legs.
“Channel One,” he commanded—and we were in his bed chamber at night on the Universe Explorer 132.
Feng Lee worked his cock into my channel and fucked me in long, languid strokes, while my channel made love to his probe. After he had ejaculated, he climbed into the bed and gathered me to him and kissed me on the mouth, and I drifted into sleep. If this was what Lucius’s nights with the captain had been like, he had been playing us all falsely for sympathy. Feng Lee, always the masterful cocksman, was being the lover tonight. Perhaps he was taking mellow pills at night to give him rest.
My last view as my eyelids drooped shut was of the captain reaching for the sexual stamina enhancer atomizer on his night stand.
I was jolted awake in a Roman arena, strewn with bloodied bodies, and a lion with the face of Feng Lee was leaping into the air—at me. I turned to run, but the lion landed on my back, bringing me down to the sandy, blood-saturated ground. Its jaws were at my neck, holding me to the ground, and I sensed that if I tried to move, my neck would be snapped. I was crouching low on my knees, chest driven into the ground, the hot, furred body covering me, as the beast’s monster cock breached my rim and started pushing into my channel. I was panting hard—as was the beast.
“Channel One!” Feng Lee grunted, and I was crouched low on my calves on the surface of the bed, my chest pushed into mattress and Feng Lee hunched over me, fucking me hard, his teeth on my neck, one of his hands laced under me, crushing my balls. He ejaculated and pushed my body flat underneath him on the bed and, still saddled, continued to fuck me with a still-hard cock as I drifted into a stupor.
“Channel Eighteen!” The door to my ship’s cabin was being splintered and I cowered in my bunk as Feng Lee as a pirate filled the doorway with his fierce scowl and two jutting swords, one of steel and one of flesh . . .
Feng Lee was still asleep in the morning’s light when an attendant woke me and pulled me, moaning, from within the sleeping captain’s embrace. I was permitted to shower and don my clothes and then was escorted to the door into the corridor.
My first night as the captain’s bedmate.
Lucius was standing just on the other side of the door. “This is not finished, you’ll see,” he growled.
“Listen, Lucius, I had nothing to do . . .”
But the angry young man had already turned and was striding off.
The lifts being reserved for those assigned to be changing shifts, I hobbled down thirty-six levels to the Pleasure Quarters reception room.
“I won’t even ask,” PS said to me as I dragged up to the scheduling desk. “The man who invented the sexual stamina enhancement atomizer should be shot. I understand the captain buys them by the case. Take sleep chamber six. I’ll see that you aren’t disturbed for at least seven hours. Then you can groom and sculpt. As long as you are the captain’s bedmate, you will not pull any more assignments, nor,” he chuckled. “will you be able to endure any others as long as the captain can afford atomizer rechargers. I doubt you will be able to close your legs for the rest of the mission.”
“I thought you said everything would change when we left the empty zone,” I said. “We’ve been sitting on the surface of Ekton for nearly a week now and nothing has happened. The captain shouldn’t have that much energy and tension to spare at night, atomizer or no atomizer. This was just my first night, and I don’t know if I’ll even be able to walk straight when I have to return tonight. I don’t know how Lucius was able to endure it.”
“It’s the number one assignment,” PS said. “Men will endure a lot to have the number one assignment. Besides, the captain has obviously grown bored with Lucius and finds you irresistibly stimulating in contrast. He may mellow when your scent no longer drives him mad. And I’ve heard there are a couple of factors responsible for the doldrums in the mission. First, the death of Julian has set the diplomatic mission back. Before meeting with the Ektians, they have to download and analyze a lot of data now that had existed in his head for instantaneous retrieval. And then there are the Awsks.”
“The Awsks?” I asked.
“Yes, the Ektians warned us that there are a couple of bands of renegade synthetic hominoids in this sector using their Nonaxes to mine uranium illegally. We are keeping close to the ship to avoid them, I’m told, even though the atmosphere here is perfectly safe other than the oxygen content being thin enough to make humans somewhat sluggish in their movements. In the interior chambers, the mix is fine.”
“Nonaxes? What are . . .?”
“You don’t want to ask, I’m sure. Monster synthetic hominoids. The Awsks use them to move vast amounts of weight in the mines. They apparently can only be kept in top working form by being mated periodically with an augmented human male—they were designed to be controlled that way, not to be able to function without augmented human mating. It keeps the control in human hands, or at least that was the design concept. But now that the Awsks have a set of Nonaxes, there’s not telling how—or if—they are keeping them in working order. This is all rumor, of course. There may be neither Awsks or Nonaxes about—it may all be an Ektian scheme to keep us close to the ship.”
“Thanks for the room reservation,” I said, as the PS programmed my hand print into the security system for sleep room number six. I turned to go to that room and almost bumped right into two heavy lifters from the corridor patrol.
“Jeremy?” One asked. “Are you Jeremy?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“Come with us, please.”
“You have been assigned to the next ground patrol.”
“There must be some mistake,” the PS and I spoke almost in unison. And then I let the PS continue: “Jeremy isn’t a Patrol Officer; his assignment is as a Pleasure Giver. In fact . . .”
“All we know is what is authorized on this paper by the Escort Commander,” one of the heavy lifters said. “We just make sure that men are where they are assigned to be.”
The PS and I continued to object, but the heavy lifters did their heavy lifting, and I was bundled out into the corridor, with the PS declaring in our wake that he’d certainly get to the bottom of this.
I didn’t need to get to the bottom of this. I’d seen Lucius’s eyes when I left the captain’s chambers. I knew who was at the bottom of this.
The patrol had barely gotten beyond the sight of the Universe Explorer 132, when we were surrounded by an overpowering party of seven-foot, muscle-bound hominoids with nasty-looking weapons. What appeared to be their leader entered the circle the patrol party had been herded into, as the others swirled about us, snatching at us and pulling away anything we could use in our defense. They seemed particularly adept in discerning what we should be divested of.
The band leader was snuffling at each of us in turn and, in the end, with me not missing the alarming tenting at his crotch when he had isolated the source of the scent he sought to me, he nudged me in one direction with a four-hominoid escort, and the others of my party were pushed off in another direction. On the other side of a sand dune, my escorts stopped and I was pushed to the ground and my trousers ripped away and each escort, in turn, fucked me with a sturdy cock.
They made all sorts of satisfied clucking noises among themselves as they were taking me, especially when I set my channel muscles undulating on their cocks in a desperate attempt to make them want to keep me alive, and I got the impression that I passed some sort of test, because when they were finished, one of them took me and slung me over his shoulder. And moving to a cleverly concealed entrance in the side of a hill, they took me with them down into the underground.
* * * *
I was laying on a padded table, very much like the operating table I had been strapped to for my augmentation operations, with my feet in stirrups that spread and raised my legs. My buttocks were hanging over the bottom edge of the table, and my arms were strapped at my side.
The subterranean complex of chambers I’d been brought to had skylights in each chamber, so I could keep some sort of track on the change from day to night, the time cycle of Ekton being about three-quarters that of Earth because of the smaller mass and greater rate of spin of Ekton.
I figured I’d been in captivity now for three Ekton days. Until now I’d been kept in a very comfortable chamber, luxuriously appointed considering where we were, and with good food provided as well as a scanner, purloined, certainly, from some earthlings, as it ran entertainment and provided mechanical, but deceptively intelligent synthetic scanner characters to converse with me in my own language on topics of my choosing.
None of the hominoids, which all seemed to be male and to have been created using the most handsome and hunkiest of human models, talked to me. But they weren’t cruel either—unless you can call demanding sex by overbuilt bodies cruel. Their construction had included a quite healthy sex drive, the capability of arousal and pleasurable release, and huge cocks, which brought back to mind Julian’s statement on the convergence between human and hominoid that the scientific community seemed determined to effect. The sexual arousal enhancements I’d been bred with were quite enough to maintain their interest. My instincts for survival made me eternally grateful that I had been augmented.
For two days and nights I had been visited in this chamber every four hours or so by a hominoid, an Awsk, I figured, which fucked me in a variety of positions. I had the impression they were testing me—trying out my limits and my suitability for something beyond what they were doing to me. And I also got the impression that I was passing their tests.
Now, at the start of the fourth Ekton day, something else, something apparently far more involved and serious was afoot. I was strapped to this platform table in a room with walls that were alive in color—swirling waves of color were going around the wall. Blues and greens now. It had been running bland beiges and white when I was first brought in here. It was apparent that it sensed and reacted to the presence of human or hominoid presence and mood.
When I was secured to the table, I was given an injection, which almost immediately was having a strange—and somewhat terrifying—effect on my body. The first thing I noticed was that my nipples were puffing up and growing larger, as were the aureoles around them. And then, slowly, but more shocking, I began to feel an internal change. My channel was loosening and widening, pushing against my other internal organs. It was unmistakingly widening—I had already been operated on for this enhancement earlier in life to take newly enhanced three-inch-wide cocks and double cocking as the First and Second Engineers had recently given me, so I knew what channel expansion felt like—and the entrance was expanding as well. And every part of my body was growing more sensitive—in a pleasurably tingling way. I could feel the merest breeze cross the room, brushing my body, making me sigh at the touch.
My arms were turned palms up, and two hominoids were standing at either side of me. I felt the pinch of needles in the crook of each arm, and I was set up with some sort of IV on each side.
I looked up at the skylight. It was midday.
And when I looked back down, I was met with a great shock and immediately was frightened out of my wits—but only for a few seconds, because something in how I was now hooked up to the IVs sensed my change in emotion, and I felt something warm being pumped into my veins, something calming, something that had me feeling more like a spectator than a participant for those moments that I was being medicated.
The shock was that, standing between my legs now was another form of hominoid altogether. Still in human form, at least in much of the detail, and still built on the model of a monstrously muscular and handsome man, but of a size—everywhere—to put the hominoids who had captured me to shame. This one, which in my mind I decided must be one of the feared Nonaxes the PS had told me about, was bulging with muscle, and overbuilt in every aspect. Its cock was draped on top of my thigh and was a good three and a half inches across in repose and much longer than a foot. I couldn’t see its balls, but to be in proportion they must have approached the size of a basketball.
Its hands had four fingers and a middle digit with a big sucker at the tip. The most noticeable anatomical oddity I could see was a cylinder sheath-like appendage jutting out from its lower belly. A thin tube extended out from the interior of this sheath and seemed to have a life of its own; it was waving around like a snake.
I quickly found out what that was for. The IVs had to pump fresh calming medication into my veins as one of the regular hominoids moved the sheath up to the head of my cock and the small, animated tube reached for the head, found my piss slit, and started to slither into my urethra. Despite the medication, I panted and moaned as it worked its way all the way down into my ball sack. The fleshy sheath followed along behind, covering my cock and lapping down to wrap its lip around my balls.
I was moaning now, knowing that voicing any objection was out of the question, and the Nonax itself began a humming noise that I sensed was a sound of pleasure for it. The regular hominoid attendants backed out of the chamber and the lights dimmed, which caused the luminescence of the walls to increase. The colors were tending more to the blue now and were of a darker shade, the waves of the swirling deeper troughed.
I was breathing heavily and trying to hold back my moans. The Nonax’s hands moved to my chest and the suckers latched on to my nipples. An electric current of pleasure coursed through my body, a tingling, arousing feeling such as I’d never felt before. The Nonax’s fleshy sheath that was covering my cock began to pulsate, and I was going hard. I also was beginning to writhe and moaning more deeply than I could ever remember doing before. The tube tongue of the sheath was moving from one ball sack to the other, teasing the rise of my flow.
I looked down. The Nonax’s cock no longer was resting on my thigh. It was in erection now. Both thicker and longer than it had been in repose. I watched as the Nonax moved its hips back and the cock moved down to my hole.
I cried out and tensed and then relaxed a bit as the medication was pumped into my veins. The head of the cock was at my entrance—and I now knew why they had had to give me something to slacken my channel. And I was glad they did, as, despite the medication, I cried out in pain and taking as the cock worked its way into my channel.
When it was in as far as I, mere human despite the channel enhancement, could take it, the cock stopped and pulsated, in coordination with the pulsating of the sheath on my cock and the tube running up my urethra and into my ball sack. The lip of the sheath was making love to my balls, teasing out of me what I began to sense was the oil that kept the Nonax going in top form.
The finger suckers slurped off my sensitized and swollen nipples and the Nonax’s hands roamed my torso, sending the electrifying pleasure sensations it had at its disposal throughout my body. The hands moved down along my spread and elevated legs and then back up to my torso and as my moans increased, so did the humming of the Nonax.
I, in turn, set my channel muscles in motion on the monster cock buried inside me, and the humming of the Nonax increased noticeably, and I could sense its body trembling with pleasure.
And then it started to pump me with its cock and I was crying out in pleasure and writhing within my bindings. The colors on the wall changed to purples and the walls began to pulsate in rhythm with the fuck, with the movement of its electrifying hands on my body, with the pulsating of the sheath on my cock, with the pulsating of the tube inside my ball sack.
The colors on the wall changed to yellows and oranges, and the cock pumped faster, and the colors swirled in greater waves, and the Nonax’s hum rose in decibel and pitch, and the sheath gripped harder, more insistent, and the suckers went to my nipples and sent a stronger current through my body that arched my back and forced my mouth open in a long, plaintive howl, and the cock pumped faster yet, and the swirling colors on the wall turned to flaming red, and the pulsating of the wall turned into a drum beat, and the Nonax was singing in a loud, off-tone sound . . . and I ejaculated . . . and the Nonax let out a blood curdling scream . . . and filled my channel with its cum.
The walls stopped pulsating, and the colors turned back to green and blue with a languid swirl, and the Nonax went dormant. I felt its cock soften inside me. But it remained, softly pulsing, inside me, and no one came to release me.
An hour or two passed, and I dozed. The Nonax was now running its hands over me in slow motion, sending waves of pleasure through my body that calmed me without the help of the medication.
At length, though, I felt the Nonax’s cock stirring again inside me, and its ravishing of my body started all over again. The wall color was a dark blue, turning to purple, and it was pulsating. And the Nonax was beginning to hum and was latching on to my nipples with its suckers and increasing the current of pleasure through my body. The sheath was tightening on my cock, which was reengorging, and the tube inside my urethra was beginning to pulse again.
The colors on the wall changed to yellows and oranges, and the cock pumped faster, and the colors swirled in greater waves, and the Nonax’s hum rose in decibel and pitch, and the sheath gripped harder, more insistent, and the suckers went to my nipples and sent a stronger current through my body that arched my back and forced my mouth open to a long, plaintive howl, and the cock pumped faster yet, and the swirling colors on the wall turned to flaming red, and the pulsating of the wall turned into a drum beat, and the Nonax was singing in a loud, off-tone sound . . . and I ejaculated . . . and the Nonax let out a blood curdling scream . . . and filled my channel with its cum.
It was night now. The skylights were dark. The pattern had gone on for hours. Twenty minutes by my sense of time of high fuck, separated by an hour or two of rest and recuperation. I wasn’t hungry or thirsty; the tubes in my arms must have taken care of that. I had no need to defecate or urinate; the tubes must have balanced that out as well. I was able to harden and ejaculate under the teasing of the tongue tube inside my ball sack every couple of hours without problem, which meant the IVs must also have provided something to heighten my augmented capabilities. The Nonax’s cum was overflowing in my channel. I could feel it drip out of my hole, and I could hear the drippings hit in a metal pan below the table.
I became convinced my own cum was taken away inside the Nonax and was, in some way, part of the pleasure it was receiving from the fuck. My ejaculation obviously was what set off the Nonax’s spouting each time, so my own release was vitally important to the whole process. This alone made this form of pleasure giving more sensitive to me, and my receiving of pleasure, than what I had to provide on the earth ship. There, the Pleasure Giver’s satisfaction was secondary or of no importance. Here the relationship was symbiotic, and I was cheered at the hope that they had to keep me alive and producing human semen for the Nonaxes and the fortunes of the Awsks to thrive.
It hadn’t taken me long to figure out that I had traded the position for Pleasure Giver on the Universe Explorer 132 for being a Pleasure Giver for the miner Nonaxes and for their renegade Awsks masters. But here, oddly enough, considering these were only hominoids, I felt more important to the sexual union than I did on the Universe Explorer 132. I had been fortunate. Something in the snuffling of the leader of the band that had captured my scouting party discerned that I had been bred for this. I had to believe that it had worked to my advantage—that the other members of my party most likely had been disposed of on the spot—especially if they had been put to the sexual test. They would not have been able to endure even the Awsks’ cocks; they would have been split asunder.
I could not think on this further at that point, however, as I felt the Nonax’s cock stirring inside me again and I could only moan at wondering how long one of these monsters mated before they had had enough and could be sent back to the mines.
Three Ekton days. That was my answer. I watched the skylights change illumination through three Ekton day cycles before the Nonax was satiated.
Its final act when we were being parted, though, made all of the difference to me. The Nonax stood by in the corner of the room as I was being freed from the tubes and the sheath and the bindings. It then lifted me off the table, sat on the floor in the corner of the room, brought my channel down into its lap onto its cock one last time and enveloped me in its body. It rocked me back and forth and cooed and hummed to me as its magic electrifying hands encased my cock and gave me one last, prolonged, glorious ejaculation—a thank you gift just for me.
I learned that the Awsk-Nonax world operated in a pattern of three Ekton days. When I was carried away from the first pleasure servicing of a Nonax, I was returned to the luxurious chamber I had been taken from. And I enjoyed three days of rejuvenation with only the occasional sexual visit by one of the Awsk hominoids. Then I was taken back to the pleasure giving chamber for a three-day fuck by another, different Nonax, followed by three days among the Awsks.
I have no idea if I was the only Pleasure Giver in this system, nor how many Nonaxes there were in line for the favor.
Each Nonax had a slightly different technique, so I can’t say I got bored. And all of them took three days to fully satisfy themselves. All of them also showed their appreciation to me with a final cuddle fuck and electrifying hand job.
I was on the second day of an Awsk cycle when the forces of the Universe Explorer 132 attacked. Whether it was knowing I was here and trying to rescue me or just an at-last agreement with the Ektians to combine forces to wipe out the Awsk renegades and their illegal mining operations, I don’t know.
All I know is that when I heard them fighting in the corridor beyond my chamber, I ran into another corridor as they were breaching the door to where I was. And I hid in a cabinet in a remote corner until they were beaten back.
And then I worried through the next day concerning whether the assault had disrupted the three-day pattern and rejoiced on the morning of the fourth day when the Awsks came for me and escorted me to the pleasure chamber, where a new Nonax was already waiting for me and where I already was beginning to moan for its attention.