Sex stories

Erotic fiction and short sex stories




Run, Boy

Keesha was out for fun. Her shift had ended twenty minutes ago, and now she was in the right mood to go wild. In the light gravity of New Kopje, one of the biggest cities on colonial Mars, she carried herself effortlessly. The thin atmosphere, which got thicker every year, gave her a breathtaking view of the stars.

Then she saw something else that took her breath away.

A young man stood under a disused air vent. He was short, but he stood up straight, and he was dressed to please. A shadowy vest half-covered his hard chest, and a black kilt with purple accents reached down to his knees. His legs were shaped by muscles, and powerful Achilles tendons stood out above his heels. Slits in his kilt gave tantalizing hints of the skin underneath.

The boy's even reddish brown skin stood out against the rust-and-silver city. His oily black hair fell past his shoulders, matching the thin black collar that pressed tightly around his neck with a shining metal D-ring in the front. An unmistakably masculine chin peeked out from between his locks, and confident blue eyes met hers. One of his eyebrows cocked up seductively.

"Hello, lady," he said, in the sharp, high accent of the ice-cap people. "You look like you're trying to see through these clothes. You can have what's underneath, you know... for a price."

Keesha's heart thumped fast and light. "How much?"

"Twenty-eight fedcoins."

Keesha tried to hide her surprise. She had expected more. She fished inside one of her pouches, feeling her pocket change, and her smile returned. "Twenty-eight. I'm taking you home, boy."

She tossed him the money, and he snatched it out of the air with one hand. That instant, she grabbed him off his feet- he would have been light even on Earth- and carried him down the street to her apartment.

Inside, she wasted no time in tossing him onto her cot, where his vest flew open, flashing the condoms strapped to the inside. Where his skin had been covered before, Keesha saw core muscles braided like licorice. She licked her lips.

"Want to feel?" asked the boy. "I'm not shy."

She prowled up to him, pulling away her own clothes, and squeezed his stomach, grinning as his muscled body resisted her. Her hands traveled down, and she seized his kilt. One swift movement pulled the thing away, exposing a cock that was long, slender, and widest at the tip- just how Keesha like them. Her fingers launched themselves at his cock, and she felt impossibly warm skin throbbing with life.

Without asking, she ripped one of the condoms from the inside of his vest, opened it and pulled it over his cock, encasing it in shiny black. She ran her fingers over the bulb of his head, and he let out a low, smooth groan. His nipples jerked as his breath caught.

She crawled over him, her big body covering his small frame, and lowered herself onto him. Warm rubber brushed against her walls, and round hardness filled her. She seized her cot, which was bolted to the floor, then pushed up and rammed herself back down on the boy, feeling the force rushing into her.

She kept up her speed, delighting in the boy's grunts as sweat started to glisten in the grooves on his chest. The energy between her legs got more acute, and her whole body curled with tension. She gripped the floor straps and hunched over the boy. Her teeth clenched and her toes curled. Her thighs squeezed him. Finally, she made a noise she had never made before as she emptied her lust on him, spraying slick juices onto his hips, his legs and his chest.

She straightened up for a moment, panting, not sated but not yet ready for more. While her chest heaved, she lay down next to the boy and stroked his chin.

"You like it?" said the boy.

"I love it," she said. "And we're not done." Her eyes wandered down his dripping body, and she noticed the word 'native' tattooed onto his hip. "You're a long way from home, aren't you?" she added.

The boy smirked. "I still have that much of an accent, do I? Ya. Guilty as charged."

"What's an ice cap boy doing up here in the city?"

"It's a long story."

"Go for it, boy."

* * *

My name is Victor. My family and I used to live around the southern cap. A hundred and ten years ago, they were paid to leave the Canada First Nation reservation where they lived and settle on the Martian frontier. Back then, you had to wear a gas mask just to breathe. But now it's terraformed enough that you can breathe like normal, even on the poles. We farmed liliciate, the main ingredient in cancer pills, and we made good business. The air and soil weren't the best, but the land was free.

One afternoon, I stood on the front porch, looking out over the mess of fuzzy light blue fungus that surrounded the house. We were in for a good harvest, but I was hard-pressed to be happy about that. I had just had another shouting match with my mother.

"This is no argument," she had said. "You marry that Arianas girl, or you inherit nothing."

I didn't like either of those options. I had never met Arianas, and she was a long way away, in a farm where they grow questionable things. But for me, a boy who had never gone to college, no inheritance meant no future.

I heard the front door click open, then quietly shut, and my big brother Sid sat down beside me. He doesn't look like I do. He's adopted, not that Mom and Dad loved him any less. He had a wide frame, with big, thick Earth legs. When he folded his arms, you couldn't see any of his stomach. His blond hair was straight for the first few inches, with just enough curl so that it swept at the tips. He had a broad face with tanned white skin, and a ruff of grey hairs covered his chin.

"Victor?" he said. "What is it? Shut the front door, is this about marriage again?"

'Shut the front door' was Sid's idea of a curse. When we were children, we always left the front door open, and Dad would get angry about it a lot. He would say, "Shut the front door, air is getting in," or "Shut the front door, we're going to have company," and "Shut the front door, do you boys never learn?" Now Sid used that every time he was surprised.

"It's true," I told him. "I don't know who I want to marry. But probably not Arianas."

"Probably?"

I stood up, exasperated. "How should I know? I never got a chance to meet her. And how come you don't have to marry?"

"I don't know." The way Sid was, I could not tell if he was keeping the truth from me, or if he really did not know.

I shook my head and said, "I'm going to the store."

"Are you sure that's smart? Dad just went there a month ago. We should be well-fixed until harvesting season."

"Ya, except Dad forgot to buy air valves. I'll do them a favor." I turned away from him. "And I need to leave the house for a while."

I jumped up onto the roof of the farmhouse- I was always proud that I could do that- and walked over the flat metal roof to the vehicle shed on the other side. I found the pedal car, which was little more than a bedframe with four big, fat tires on the corner. I mounted it, pulling on my sandstorm goggles. The pedal car had compressed air jets for building up speed, but I did not bother with them. I sat in the front seat, behind the bumper we had welded onto the front, and put my feet on the pedals. I pushed too hard, raising a cocktail of red dust behind me, then my tires got traction, and I started off to the general store. The farm vanished behind me.

I rode, alone and completely unarmed, a little black dot along the dusty red wasteland. A vertical wedge of dirt floated in the air behind me.

An hour into my trip, I saw a black shape, like a long, thin, rounded chevron. It floated about fifty feet above the ground, mighty air jets keeping it off the ground. It came at me from the west, then drew alongside me. I pulled away, hoping they would leave me alone, but they did not. Finally, fear set in. I hit the air jets and soared off for the general store. I suppose I was hoping that I could reach it in the next few minutes, but I may as well have been hoping to meet the governor at a bus stop. The chevron ship landed in front of me, and I used the retro-jets to stop myself. I dismounted the pedal car, shielding my eyes against the late-morning sun.

A door popped open in the side of the ariship, and a man in a parka jumped out, sliding on the dusty ground, raising a pink pall. "You!" he said to me, "This is the Justice Corps. We need you in here, quickly!"

"Who are you?" I called back.

"It doesn't matter! Come on, get over here!"

"No." I never listened to people before learning their names.

I stood still instead of running like I should have, and the suited man looked disappointed, then frightened. Suddenly, he pulled back into the cockpit, and three women jumped out, running after me. Finally, I thought to get going, but it was no use. An electric generator throbbed, and an electromagnet powered up, yanking the pedal car backwards, taking me with it. The car flipped over, and I fell off, tumbling painfully to a stop, sharp sand grinding my skin. When I could see again, there was a pair of boots in front of me. I looked up. A woman in grey camouflage stared back down at me, smirking while she held a pistol pointed at the sky. Her blond curls peaked out from beneath a pitch-black crush cap. The two women at her sides were dressed in Earth-tone leather lined with fur, and their hair hid beneath cowboy hats.

The leader reached down, grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and lifted me off the ground, holding me at arm's length. My feet kicked uselessly at the air, and I clawed at her hand, all with no success.

The leader stared down her arm like it was the barrel of a gun. She licked her lips. "This one is a find," she said. "Pack up. We're taking off."

The other women walked around me, eyeing me while I hung helpless in the air.

"Come on," said the leader, "my arm is getting tired."

She did not feel tired to me. She was crushing my windpipe, and I was losing my strength. Just as I started to panic, my arms were yanked behind me, then fused together with a clasp of metal on metal. The woman dropped me, and I fell on my face, arms trapped behind my back.

Strong hands pulled me out of the dust, and I coughed and blinked against the cloud on my face. I knew I was being carried into the ship, then I lost track of everything.

When I came to, I was unbound, in a room with one dim light. The floor was thin metal, dominated by a chest-high table that looked wide enough to serve dozens at a dinner. A thin counter protruded from the wall next to me, surrounded by cabinets stocked with cooking implements.

I shivered with cold and looked down at myself. My chest was bare, except for two tight straps that ran diagonally from my shoulders, crossing just above my stomach. Instead of my cotton underwear and jeans, I had some sort of elastic panties on. I had pants, too, but the crotch had been cut away, so my cock bulge was out in the open. My shoes were gone too.

I spent half a minute looking at my outfit, feeling all over myself. "This is not good," I said.

"Oh, no? You look good to me."

I whipped around. In a corner, a short man stood in a long-sleeved mauve shirt with a zipper running all the way down the front. Jungle-camouflage pants covered his legs, with pockets full of something, and hardy boots covered his feet, tied with a complicated knot. I noticed that his arms and legs were both clean-shaven. He had short red hair that flowed down the top half of his head, and a few facial hairs ran down his jawline. He looked around twenty-six, maybe twenty-eight, which would make him five years older than I. He stepped up to me and folded his arms, looking me up and down. Just by his smile, I could tell that he liked what he saw.

I searched for a good greeting. I debated between 'hello' and 'who are you?' when he broke the silence.

"Is this your first time here?" he asked, in a lowland accent.

"Ya," I said. "But where is 'here?'"

He gave a little chuckle that I didn't like. "'Here' is wherever the captain feels like. This is an airship."

"I know, but what kind of airship? Bandits? It's a strange kind of bandit that will attack a man who's not carrying anything. I even forgot to bring money for the general store. Were they after me?"

"You have it, boy. It's not every day someone lets a little treasure like you out on his own."

Now I was sixty-percent sure this man wanted to bed me. "So I've been kidnapped," I said. "I'm not going to be held for ransom, am I?"

"You're getting warm. I'll-" He stopped. His head cocked to the side a little. "You hear that?" he said. "They're talking," he sidled up to an air vent in the wall. "Why don't you come listen? You'll find out for yourself."

My outfit had already told me most of what I needed to know, but anything I could learn was valuable. I put my ear to the basketball-sized vent and listened.

"Jamie, you bitch," said a sharp feminine voice, coming from the other side, "you get so much action, Ben's practically your boyfriend now."

"Oh yes?" said a smarmy voice. "That's because I'm better at it!"

"Damn it, that's not how we choose! You know the rules, and you've taken the last three turns with Ben. That one time was a bet, fine, but you screwed me over the other two. The new guy's mine tonight. Period."

"You mean after the boss uses him."

"Yes. After her. But this new one isn't yours, so stay away from him until Tuesday."

There was a pause.

"Did you just flip me off?" said the sharp voice. "Get over here, and I'll-"

"Enough!" came a new voice, rich and powerful.

Everything went silent, except for two approaching footsteps.

"You two don't get to fight with each other while we're still in civilized territory," said the strong new voice."Nisha is right; she's due for her night with the new boy. Jamie, your turn comes Tuesday."

Jamie did not answer, but I could feel her bitterness through the vent.

"Nisha?" said the strong voice. "You've been a good lieutenant to me, and I think it's time for a treat. How would you like to break in the new boy?"

"Really?"

"I'll skip my turn with him. He's all yours."

"Oh, thank you, Callie! Thank you so much!"

The boss gave a laugh. "Enjoy yourself, Nisha. Everyone else, get back to work. I know we've had a good few months, but we're not safe until we're onto the terra." I heard fingers snap twice. "Get to it."

I stepped away from the vent.

"It looks like I have my work cut out for me," I said. "I'd better get used to this."

"Smart boy," said Ben.

I gave Ben a searching glance. "Now who are you?" I asked. "Are you another captive, or one of the bandits?"

"Little bit of both. When these gals wanted me on board, they didn't take 'no' for an answer. But I've got shifts and duties just like everyone else."

"Duties like being a fucktoy?"

Ben was not fazed. "Yeah, like that. But you know what else? Every day, someone gets a turn to bed you and do whatever they want." He stepped up close, pretending not to notice that he was three inches shorter than I. "Saturday is my turn."

I stepped back. The next thing I wanted to know was whether or not he'd be gentle with me. I found the answer in his smug, distant eyes. "I see..." I said slowly. "What do we do when we're not in bed?"

"We work." He stepped over to the kitchenette and pulled out a canister labeled 'flour.' The can must have been packaged in the lowlands, because it let out a little puff when he broke the air seal. "Seven women don't feed themselves, and they sure as heck won't feed us. We're having dumplings today. Ever made those?"

I shook my head. "No."

"Well, there's a first for everything. Step on up, and I'll show you the basics."

He started mixing ingredients together, walking me through everything he did. I paid attention, but I kept my guard up. At any moment, I expected him to make a move on me, or at least stare at my cock, but he never did. By the time the first batch of dumplings went into the oven, I had forgotten that I was dressed like a whore.

I set the table, putting plates and bottles of water at smooth intervals all around the edge, leaving enough space so that Ben could get the dumplings in. Once everything was ready, Ben's voice transmitted over the speakers, calling, "Captain, dinner is ready."

Within the minute, the door opened, and women started filing in. I recognized the woman in the crush cap, and I guessed that she was Callie, the leader. Two others looked familiar from my capture, but there were six more women who I had not seen before.

The women sat around the table, leaving no chairs for Ben or me. Ben stood by the corner, quietly enjoying a dumpling of his own, holding a hand under the bun to catch any crumbs. I grabbed a bun of my own and stood next to him.

He tapped me on the shoulder. "Not you," he said. "You wait tables. You see how that gal's glass is empty? Go fill it."

"Where do we keep the water?" I asked.

"Second cupboard from the left, bottom level."

Grabbing a closed-top pitcher, I patrolled the table, watching for anything else that needed my attention. The woman with the empty water bottle sat back in her chair, watching me with a vacant smile. She had dark brown skin and a starkly curved jawline underneath a curtain of shiny black hair that came down almost to her shoulders. A tank top showed off her heavy bust, and also her bare, muscular arms. Minutes after I filled her bottle, it was empty again. The second time I came over to fill it, I felt strong fingers on my ass. The black woman was leaning forward, grinning with half-open eyes as her hand traveled over my flesh. With a flick of her hand, she spanked me.

"Ah!" I yelped.

The whole table erupted with laughter. Even Ben shook with mirth. I looked around desperately for a friendly face. I was not used to so much attention, and I was certainly not used to being molested. I filled the bottle as quickly as I could, then retreated. All eyes stayed on my ass as I went.

"You'd better get used to that, boy," said the black woman, in an easygoing voice. "I get to fuck you tonight, and I love your ass."

As the other pirates catcalled, I made a mental note that this woman was Nisha, and that I would see her again soon.

The other women talked among themselves about money, loot and exotic places, sounding like my uncles and aunts at Thanksgiving dinner. I listened to it all, but learned nothing useful.

The women finished their meals and left- all but Nisha, ominously- and Ben started cleaning up. I joined him without having to be told.

"Hey, new boy," said Nisha, when we were almost done. "Get over here."

I looked worriedly at Ben, then sidled up to the black woman, who still sat back in her chair. She grabbed my wrist and yanked me off balance, onto her lap. I stifled another moan as her hands played with my flanks. She made a happy little noise as she squeezed my thigh.

"What's your name, boy?" she asked.

"Victor," I said.

"Victor..." she repeated the name, as if tasting it. "Victor. I like you, Victor. Ever been with a lady?"

I remembered the electrician who had bedded me one night back on the farm. "No ladies," I said. "Only a woman."

"Ooh, you're spicy. Did she have a good time?"

"Ya."

"Did you suck her pussy?"

"Ah... no."

"Did she fuck your ass?"

"No."

Her hands encircled my chest, then pulled me back so that my ear was an inch away from her mouth. "Honey, you're going to learn something tonight."

I went tense. My cock started to stiffen, and I hoped she would not notice it.

Her strong hands curled around my body, and she stood up, then slung me over her shoulder. I was helpless to stop my cock from getting even harder as my bulge rubbed against her skin.

We went through a door into a hall, then through another one into a room that smelled of burned wires. A few old computers stood on a shelf on one end, a monitor displayed a book on the other, and there was a cot in the middle, big enough for two. Nisha pulled me off her shoulder and stood me up in front of her.
She folded her arms and looked down at me. I stood on my toes, having no idea what to expect. I had never been with a woman who threw me around like Nisha did. I was too scared to admit it, but she excited me.

"You'd better strip, boy," she said. "Unless you want me to sit here, staring at that body all night. Believe me, I'd be happy to."

There was nothing else to do. With my fingers, I explored one of my straps, fondling myself as I searched for a buckle. When I found it on the small of my back, I clicked it open, and the strap glided to the floor. My hands went back again for the other strap, leaving my chest bare for Nisha's hungry eyes.

As soon as the second strap was gone, I got to my pants, undoing the button while Nisha circled around behind me. I arched my back to give her a good view as I slowly peeled my pants down my legs. My ass felt cold air.

Hands clenched around my butt cheeks, and I let out a gasp. Her sweating, half-clothed body pressed against mine. "Too slow," she said. "On your hands and knees, boy."

I knelt and, with just little hesitation, I leaned forward and put my hands on the ground. I could hear leather brushing against skin as Nisha stripped off her clothes, and I felt little gusts of air as she threw her garments aside. I braced myself to feel pain.

Instead, she walked in front of me, and I gasped again. Her legs were as muscled as her arms, and her bronze shoulders transitioned easily down to her full breasts, with black nipples that pointed straight out.

But what drew my attention was the grey plastic cock that was strapped around her waist, easily as long as mine was. It was thinner, which I thanked the gods for, because I had a feeling I knew what she wanted to do with it. For some reason, there was a condom over it.

Nisha's thumb and index finger squeezed my chin, and she pulled me off my hands, into a kneeling position. She guided her cock up to my face. In the grip of her strong fingers, I could not have pulled away if I had wanted to.

"Suck it, bitch," she said. "If you soak it real good, I'll add lube before I ram your ass."

She pushed into my mouth. Her hard rubber cock shoved my tongue aside, stopping inches before she rammed the back of my throat. She pulled back, and the cock went into me again.

I felt a light slap on my cheek. "Suck on it!" she commanded. "Lick it. Get it wet, or I promise you, this is going to hurt."

I did not want to call her bluff. I closed my lips around the cock and salivated, getting my tongue all around the thing as it continued to violate my mouth. I breathed through my nose and sucked, closing my eyes with each pull. I knew I was doing a good job, because I could smell the tang of her arousal. Faintly, I hoped I could make her cum before she pegged me.

Her cock pulled away, freeing my mouth. I gasped, realizing suddenly that I was out of breath. A saliva string trailed from my lips to her cock, and I saw with relief that it was wet all over.

"I know that look," she said. "You love it. Now get down." Her hand pushed down on my head, and I collapsed onto my hands and knees again.

She walked around me. Her fingers got under my panties and pulled them down to my knees, leaving my balls hanging in the air in front of her. She put her heavy hands on my back, and I braced myself.

On her first thrust, I felt hardness rushing into me like a plough, and I screamed. Her cock kept ramming me, pushing me aside and spreading me. My back arched, sagging as she put her weight on me. The friction started to hurt, and I grunted. Nisha stopped thrusting. I looked back, confused, only for her to push her fingers in my mouth, fondling my tongue, gathering up the saliva beneath it. Her hand came away and wrapped around her cock, slathering it in fresh juice, and pushed back into me. My head snapped straight again.

"Oh yeah," said Nisha. "Oh yeah, oh yeah, that's good. Oh-"

Her hands beat on my back, and she thrust all the way into me, almost flattening me under her lustful force. I heard the unmistakable scream of an orgasm, and she pulled away.

My head lolled, and my shoulders heaved. Saliva dripped from my mouth as I recovered from what she had done to me.

"You're so fucking cute," said Nisha, pinching my ass. "I came just watching you squirm."

I fell on my side, feeling a bubble of pain from my ass. I tried to relax, but I could not. My cock was completely erect.

"You loved it," said Nisha. "You really are a slut. I could flip you on your back and ride you right now."

I curled up, partly to protect myself, and partly so that my muscles would not cramp when she used me again.

"Hm," she said. "On second thought, I've got a better idea. On your hands and knees, bitch."

I did as she asked, trying not to think about what she was going to do to me next.

Her hands flashed in front of my face, and I felt some metal thing wedged into my jaw, forcing it open. Straps went back around my neck, getting under my long hair, and fixed a collar onto my sensitive skin. Nisha pulled her shirt and pants back on, then stood in front of me. I looked up at her, baffled.

"Don't get up," she said. "Crawl after me. We're doing something special."

She tugged on my leash, walking towards the door, and I hobbled on all fours after her, my hands and knees aching on the cold metal floor. A few seconds into the hall, my cock felt less painfully stiff, and my legs moved with a little more freedom.

"Hah!" said a woman behind me. "Hey, Kristen, look! Nisha's got the boy on all fours!"

More footsteps shuffled up behind me. I looked back, seeing three leering women, and I blushed. Under all those female eyes, my cock stiffened again.

Nisha knocked on a door just a few dozen feet away from hers, and I looked up. The door opened, and a slight blonde woman appeared.

"Nisha?" she said, her face falling. "What the hell are you doing here?"

I recognized that voice. This was Jamie, the woman who had argued with Nisha over who would be allowed to take me. She looked down at me and said, "What, is this a taunt?"

Nisha handed my leash to her. "It's an olive branch," she said. "I don't want us to hate each other."

Jamie gaped at her.

"I'm serious," said Nisha. "You can have him any way you want him. And I didn't use his cock, either. It's fresh for you."

"Nisha, I didn't... this is..."

"Yes?"

Jamie's mouth still hung open. She sidled up to Nisha, eyes full of some unreadable fear. Her hand reached out and rested carefully on the black woman's shoulder. "Nisha," she said huskily. "This is so nice. But I don't want the boy. What I want is... is you."

She went gently in for a kiss. Slowly, as if she had seen it coming, Nisha brought up her hand grabbed the back of Jamie's blond head, pushing their mouths together. Her other hand curled around Jamie's thin waist.

I watched, unsure what to make of it. I looked back at the three peepers and saw that they were just as surprised as I was.

"Come on," said Jamie, as soon as Nisha released her. "Let's get inside."

Nisha pulled Jamie in, and Jamie yanked me along. The door wheezed shut behind us.

"Now you've got some explaining to do," said Nisha, putting her hands on her hips. "You stole my turns with Ben and then you flipped me off. Is that your way of courting someone?"

"You always came back," said Jamie, leaning forward eagerly. "Every time I took something from you, you got payback. You didn't just go crying to the boss. You did something by yourself. You're a woman of action! And now you're a lieutenant..." her voice cut off as a little moan escaped her. "Oh god, I just can't resist how strong you are."

Nisha smirked. "Well, you've got to stop doing that. You're pissing me off." She reached forward and grabbed Jamie. She pulled the white woman close, until their heads leaned together, noses less than in inch apart. "Besides," she whispered. "You don't have to. Just say the word, and I'll push as hard as you want."

Jamie giggled. "O-okay. Where do you want to start?"

Nisha put a hand on Jamie's shoulder and forced her down. "Why don't you lick my pussy for being such a bad girl?"

Jamie gasped, but she wasn't scared.

Nisha did away with her belt and slid her pants down. Jamie's head pressed between her legs. Instantly, Nisha moaned. Her head tilted back, her black hair falling back to reveal more of her sharp jaw line. I watched in awe as, in seconds, Nisha started panting, tottering and almost falling onto Jamie, then she erupted with a squeal, squirting onto Jamie in one long release. Jamie's face pulled back, and she smiled up at Nisha, cum glistening across the bridge of her nose.

"You like it?" said Nisha.

"Oh, yes," said Jamie.

"Then here's something else." Nisha bent over me, grabbed me by the collar and effortlessly flipped me onto my back. She straddled my stomach, her simmering wetness squelching against my core muscles. She undid my gag with a single flick of her finger, then beckoned to Jamie, saying, "ever been pleasured by two mouths before?"

I watched as Jamie stood over me. She hesitated, then finally squatted. Heat and musk descended on my lips, and I extended my tongue. I heard the two women kissing, and I could feel fresh droplets of juice issuing from Nisha, dripping onto my skin. Jamie moistened as well, coating my tongue in sweetness.

With Nisha kissing her silly, Jamie was bound not to last long. I sent my tongue straight for her clitoris, tracing its base, then licking across it, brushing the length of my tongue over the tip. She responded with more moisture, she kissed Nisha harder, and Nisha grew hotter and slicker against my stomach. Finally, Jamie cracked, erupting hot, slick juices all over my mouth.

The two panted for a few seconds, then Nisha stood up, leaving a spot of heat on my middle. Jamie came after her, and I watched from below as they hugged. They whispered something that I could not hear.

"No, I'm done for the night," said Nisha. "I'm turning in. And I'm sleeping in this bed. You'll have to figure something out."

Jamie giggled. "Ooh, you're ruthless. Leave some room for me."

Nisha sat down in Jamie's bed as though she owned it, and Jamie piled in after her. The two shuffled around each other, making no effort to keep their hands to themselves. With the flick of a switch, the light in the ceiling went out, leaving only a fluorescent nightlight beside the floor of the bed. A moment later, that light went out as well.

By now, I judged it was safe to get up. I found some discarded clothes, which smelled of femininity, and bunched them under my back and my neck as a pillow. After some time, I was asleep too.

Much too soon, the light clicked on. I sat up, a hand shielding my eyes from the sudden, cruel light.

"Nisha," said Jamie, "we didn't make the boy cum last night, did we?"

"Huh. Looks like he's still waiting."

I blinked heavily and looked down. I must have been dreaming about what had happened to me the previous day, because my cock was erect. Nisha kicked it, and I flinched, but it did not hurt much; she had only hit the shaft. It wagged lewdly in the air.

"Do you want to ride him?" asked Jamie.

"Yeah, but see the clock? It's breakfast time. We need him in the kitchen."

"Let's get his clothes."

"Why bother?" Nisha grabbed my collar, which I had forgotten I was wearing, and pulled me up to my feet. I felt a smack on my ass, swift and stinging. "Get going, bitch," she said. "I'm hungry. If there's nothing to eat by breakfast time, I'm eating you instead, got it?"

I left without a word.

As soon as I was in the hall, it occurred to me what I had just been thrust into. If any of the crewwomen saw me naked, there was a good chance they would see it as an open invitation and ride me on the spot.

As much as I disliked him, Ben was my best hope. I gathered my leash into my hands and bounded into the kitchen.

Ben did not look surprised to see me naked. He turned on me and grew a slow smile. "Well, hello there," he said. "You're a sight for sore eyes, aren't you?"

"Do you have any clothes?" I asked. "Please, I'm not safe naked."

He smirked and pulled a white bundle out of a cupboard. "This is all we have."

He threw it to me. I unfurled it, and my fears were confirmed. It was an apron, which would only cover my front from my neck to my knees, and it read, 'kiss the cook.'

"Well," said Ben, stepping up close, "what are you waiting for?"

Biting down on the urge to elbow him away, I slipped on the apron and asked, "What is for breakfast?"

Finally, he stopped hovering over me. He stepped back to the table, sat down and said, "We're making Quesadillas. It's very simple. Just grab yourself some tortillas from the pantry, fry 'em up on the nonstick pan- on butter, of course- and add the chicken and grated cheese, cheese first. I've got those in the fridge, prepped and ready to use. Once it's been a couple minutes on the burner, fold it over and start flipping."

I went to the pantry and searched for the tortillas, trying to keep all of his instructions in my head. "And you?" I asked.

He sat back and smiled. "I'll watch, thank you."

There was nothing to do but get started. As I worked on the quesadillas, adding to a growing stack on one side of the stove bank, I knew that Ben was watching me. He could see my balls even from behind, and my cock swung with every step I took.

Inevitably, he got up. I braced myself as he stepped up to me and ran his fingers around my neck, grabbing my collar, then my leash.

"Please," I said, "please don't do this."

"Aw, but you're asking for it, coming in here with this big boy..." he pinched my cock. "...front and center. You look about ready to blow, too. Why, I'll bet you only came once last night."

He brought my leash down and wound the cool leather around the base of my cock, pulling the strap tight and trapping me with an erection. He pulled up the apron, and we both saw my cock swollen and straight.

"Nice," he breathed. "Real nice..."

"Stop!"

We both turned and saw the woman in the crush cap standing in the doorway. She was the one who had taken me prisoner at the start of this mess.

"Callie!" said Ben. "I... uh..."

"Is it your turn to fuck the new boy, Ben?" said the woman- Callie, apparently.

"No, boss," said Ben.

With one self-assured leap, Callie reached Ben, and he let me go instantly. He closed his mouth and froze, putting up no resistance as Callie's hands slipped under his shirt, then came away with it, revealing a broad chest at least twice as heavy as mine. "You know the punishment for going out of turn, don't you?" she said.

"Yeah," he said meekly.

"Well then come quietly and let's get started. Unless you want to be strung up and spanked first."

She grabbed the front of his belt and pulled him along by his crotch. I could not help but smirk as I watched them leave.

Three more quesadillas passed in peace. Without Ben breathing down my neck, I allowed myself to think that I might come to enjoy it here. For good or ill, this would certainly be more exciting than being a husband to Arianas.

Then something came in over the speakers.

"Attention!" said a male voice.

My jaw dropped. That was my big brother.

"Attention, bandits! We know where you are. And we know that you have a man named Victor Senitiki. He has a tracking implant. If you release him safely, we will not pursue you. Otherwise, we will hunt you down, and we will kill you, with or without the authorities. It's not wise to hurt a member of the Senitiki clan. Victor, if you can hear this, hang on. We're coming to save you."

I stood completely still. Everyone else on the ship was probably doing the same. I had had no idea that there was a tracking device in me. It must have been implanted when I was a baby.

I forced myself to think. My brother had meant what he had said. He loved me enough to come and save me- my whole family did, bless them. And they had enough weapons that they could probably put up a fight against whole ship's worth of bandits.

I did not know which side would win if it came to that, but it did not matter: killing was unacceptable. I needed to escape now, or there would be a fight, and the blood would be on my hands.

The quesadilla was burning. I flipped it, hoping that the women wouldn't punish me for a little charring, and started thinking about how I would escape. I knew my electronics well enough that I could make tools out of the appliances around here. All I needed was time and space. Then I would have to explore the ship. So far, I had only worked in the kitchen and in bed.

The door opened. I jumped. "The..." I said. "The tacos are ready."

"Tacos?" said Caille.

"I mean Quesadillas."

Callie stepped up behind me and patted my ass. "Good job, boy. Now serve us, would you?"

"Yeah!" said someone lewdly, "serve us! Ha!"

I did my best to ignore her as I brought over the quesadillas. I sweated with fear, worrying that my thoughts of escape would jump out of my head and paint themselves on my forehead.

At last, the women were around the table, eating. I slunk into the corner with a quesadilla of my own, imitating what I had seen Ben do. As I ate, I schemed. I could either explore the ship and risk being caught, or make my escape blind. Without knowing the layout of the ship, I would need a weapon- nonlethal, of course.

When breakfast wound down, the women left, not having spoken a word about the message we received. I chose to assume that they had heard it anyway. When they were gone, I took a deep breath. "It's time," I told myself.

I looked inside the convection oven and saw that it was held together by cheap hand-screws. "Jackpot," I said aloud. Reaching in, I pulled away a panel to reveal a tangle of wiring. After I unplugged the machine, I ripped out a fistful of wires and tried to fit them into my pockets, forgetting that I was naked. I set them in the bottom of the oven, then moved onto the pantry.

Cups lined the pantry, but all of them were simple plastic cylinders, useless to me. I checked in the cupboards surrounding the refrigerator and pulled out a thermos. I looked in, full of hope, and found what I had been looking for: rubber. I peeled it out and hid it in the oven.

Now came the difficult part. I slid the microwave out from its rails on the wall and looked on the back, where I unclipped a panel and found a circuit board beneath. It was one of the new, simpler boards, where all of the logic could be controlled by hand.

I did not bother to put the microwave back in its place. I reached into the oven, wrapped the torn-out wires around the contacts of the circuit board, then slipped it all between the two layers of rubber. Now I had a working stun weapon.

The next step was to conceal it. I had no pockets, but the waist string in my apron would be all I needed. I removed it, wrapped the string around the stunner twice, pulled it taught and tied it behind my back. Now my hands were free, and women would not spot the stunner unless they looked at me from behind.

I frowned, realizing that they would be doing that a lot. But by now, I was out of tricks. There was nothing to do but roll the dice. I left the room.

The hallway extended in two directions. One of them ended in a big door that looked like a vault, and the other turned out of sight. I headed that way, bare feet padding on the soft metal every few seconds. At the end, I looked to the left and right, seeing no one, then picked a direction and trotted for the end.

On the way there, I heard an unmistakable moaning and slapping noise. Against my better judgment, I stepped up to the room where it came from and peeked in.

A plastic frame leaned against the far wall, with Ben strapped to it. A female straddled him, hanging on by his muscular arms, bucking so hard that the frame rattled against the wall. Ben's face was strained and red, and there were clamps on his nipples, swinging in time with the woman riding him. A group of other women- maybe the whole crew- waited in line. Some of them watched and masturbated softly.
So that was the punishment for trying to take me out of turn. I shuddered.

Farther down the hallway, I saw a hatch that looked like it led outside. That was promising. And something else caught my eye as well; a brightly-lit room was lined with men's clothes.

I looked down at my apron. For my escape, I needed something more to wear. I skipped past the room where the crew had their way with Ben. Landing with a little scuff, I slipped into the clothing room.

These were definitely men's clothes, but it was clear that they had been chosen by women. Vests, bicycle shorts, kilts, tennis shoes, sandals, and even buttless chaps hung on full display, with only one pair of decent pants. I saw T-shirts so small that they would be horribly tight on Ben. That meant they would be perfect for me. I swept off my apron and pulled on the orange T-shirt, then grabbed a pair of khaki shorts with a crotch zipper that lead all the way from the front of the waistline to the back. Now I needed a belt.

"Hey, hey, look what we've got here."

I turned around, and a tall woman with tan skin and striking green eyes stood in the doorway. She leaned against the doorsill, and her gaze was heavy-lidded, but she was sweating, and I could see her nipples making nubs on her shirt.

I scanned for my apron, which still contained my stunner. I started edging for it.

"Naughty boy," said the woman. "You know men don't dress themselves on this ship. You wear what we give you."

"I was cold," I stalled, as I tried to come up with an exit strategy.

"How about this," she said. "I won't tell them that you raided the closet, and you won't tell them that I fucked you."

That would certainly get her within stunning distance. "Fine," I said.

She stepped closer, shutting the door behind her, and bore down on me. I noticed that, for once, she was shorter than I. But she was fast. Before I could get any closer to my stunner, she shoved me onto my back. I raised my head, watching from below as she undid her pants. She pulled away my clothes, which had only been half-on to begin with, and I was helpless to stop my own erection from rising at the sight of her bare, toned body.

She did not give me much time to see it. She produced a condom and wrapped it over my cock, then she was on me. Her tightness took in my cock and held it, and I screwed my eyes shut. Her hands grabbed the sides of my chest, and her fingers dug into my skin. I could feel her breath blasting onto me with every buck. Her hands released my chest, and she sat up straight, fingering herself with one hand, toying my mouth with the other. Her hot fingers slipped over and around my tongue, then came away as she slathered herself with my juices. She wailed, and her first orgasm came flooding out.

She pulled herself up, lips pressed tightly together, still moaning in time with her breathing. "One more," she said. "One more. Yeah..."

This time, she did not ride my cock. That was good, because it felt like its skin was a size too small. Instead, she slid forward, onto my chest, then curled her spine all the way down and kissed me. I kissed her back, trying to excite her as much as possible. I must have done well, because she moaned into my mouth. She leaned forward and held my head in her hands, keeping me pinned while her tongue had its way with me.

Thinking quickly, I reached back and put a hand on her rear. Once I got between her cheeks, my fingers plied at her dripping lips. Her moaning changed pitch, her arms and legs crushed me, and she weathered another orgasm. When her body cooled a little, she finally released my mouth.

"Oh yeah," she huffed, "you're a good boy. Good, good boy."

For some reason, I smiled.

She stood up. "You're off the hook for stealing clothes. I'll see you when it's my turn." She got her clothes back on, blew me a kiss and left.

I sat where I was, processing what had happened to me. My apron was still in a pile beside me, and my stunner sat under it, unused. The sexual fog in my head cleared a little, and I remembered what danger I was in. I pulled the shorts back on, then the shirt, and found a simple black leather belt and slipped it through the belt loops. I pocketed the stunner, opened the door and was off.

Down the hall, away from where the women pleasured themselves on Ben, I saw the hatch marked with faded paint that spelled out 'hangar.' I let out a beleaguered smile and rushed through.

On the other side, I saw what I was looking for. In a cold metal garage, a powerful-looking hovercraft stood among a row of small vehicles, its door invitingly open. Through the open hangar bay doors, I could see the Martian landscape rolling by only about thirty feet below.

But there was something else in my way. One last crewwoman patrolled the catwalks.

I saw her before she saw me, so I ducked away and came up with a plan. When I had one, I presented myself.

"Excuse me," I said, as innocently as I could without sounding like a child. "The captain told me to come to you."

The guard's eyes bulged. "She what?"

"The guard- I mean the captain said you've been a good guard. She said I'm a..." I blushed, in a way that was only half-fake. "She said I'm your reward." I looked down and bashfully stuck my hands into my pockets. I studiously maintained my smile while my left hand found the stunner.

"Well," said the guard, coming toward me. "This is one hell of a reward, tell the captain that I- NYAAARGH!"

The stunner did its work, and she collapsed onto the railing, twitching, her eyes wide and clueless.

Now it was time for my escape, but first, I knelt down and gave the guard a full kiss on the lips- a consolation prize.

Inside the hovercraft, everything was dark and clean. Critical controls stuck out at me, and everything else fell into place. Within the minute, all engines were on, and I had a navigation computer spooling up a list of the nearest hub towns. I switched off the safety lever, squeezed the throttle and sent the craft hurtling out of the airship, into the Martian sky.

Now I was free. The hovercraft slammed down onto the ground, raising a pall of red dust that coiled in the downdraft of my machine. I turned south, away from the airship, and engaged the thrust jets. In a few minutes, the airship was out of sight.

I relaxed in my seat, breathing heavily. I realized that I smelled like sex, not just from the women who had used me, but my own body's reaction. As much as I hated to admit it, I was aroused.

I pushed that thought aside as I considered the future. I could, of course, keep moving south until my family found me with the tracking device. Then I would clean up, go back to normal and marry Arianas.

That last clause did not sound so appealing.

I looked down at the list of towns. Garlyle Post was only a few miles away: well within this vehicle's range. This was another option. I could shed my identity there and disappear, becoming simply another vagabond. I would be poor, but free.

'Free' was all I wanted. I turned up the engines and made for Garlyle Post.

Hours later, I found a scattering of black and grey buildings sitting on the rocky red desert. Climbing out of the hovercraft, I looked around.

The buildings of Garlyle Post ranged from simple huts to structured houses, none of them taller than two stories. People strutted through the dirt paths, making way for the few land vehicles that ambled between them. Glitzy lights, covered in sandblasted windshield, rose in the center of town, attracting small crowds to the theaters, arcades and brothels. Goods traveled in small crates or even from hand to hand, and heavy land barges lounged on a freight yard at the far end of the town. There were solar panels everywhere, a reminder that I was closer to the equator.

I got back into the hovercraft and cautiously drove to the middle of town, stopping when I found a junk dealership. I stepped up to the dealer, a middle-aged man with black hair and black skin.

"How much can I get for this vehicle?" I asked, patting the side. It occurred to me that I was giving up an excellent machine, but I needed to do it; I was broke.

The man looked the machine up and down, checking under flaps and running his finger along the windshield. "It's in good shape," he said. "Eight hundred SnapCoins."

"Fourteen hundred," I said.

"Twelve hundred."

"Sold."

The man handed over the money, and I allowed him to climb aboard the hovercraft and drive it into his lot. Just like that, I stranded but rich.

I went to buy food. A streetside vendor sold me milk, which was a rare treat, plus a cup of cheap noodles. "Where can I find a ride to the city?" I asked the vendor.

She pointed to the freight yard. "Hitch a ride," she said. "But don't stow away, because they've got heartbeat scanners. They'll catch you."

"I'll think of something. Thank you."

As I headed for the freight center, something stopped me. 'Of course,' I thought. 'The tracking chip. If I don't get rid of it, my family will keep following me.' I stopped for a moment, pondering why I thought that was bad- after all, they did treat me well. Then I remembered Arianas, and I thought of the big, open planet in front of me, and I made my decision. "I guess I'm a runaway," I said aloud.

I saw a hospital just behind the sports arena, and I got an idea. I stepped into the two-story building, where a handsome young white boy stood behind a desk, frantically checking off a clipboard. "Yes?" he said dutifully.

"I have a tracking device on me," I said, "I want it off." I had never been fond of beating around the bush, and I saw no reason to do it here.

"Now you know that wouldn't be legal," said the boy.

From word of mouth, I knew what the etiquette was like in these parts of the world. I passed over a dozen SnapCoins. He counted them up carefully, then looked up to me. For a minute, I thought I had miscalculated and he would call the police on me.

"Go ahead," he said, motioning me through the open doorway. "Dr. Piasecki will take care of you."

Through the doorway, a bald middle-aged man greeted me with the knowing smile of a shared secret. "So," he said, "you have a foreign object beneath your skin. We can have it neutralized, you know."

"That would be good."

"Then step in here, please." He motioned me into a clear tube. I stood inside, squared my stance, then closed my eyes and stood still as I heard machinery whirring around me.

"That's it," said the doctor. "Step out, please."

"Did it work?" I asked. "You know what kind of device I have, don't you?"

"Indeed. This tablet was synched to it. See for yourself."

The tablet displayed a stern 'no signal' message, even as I passed it all around my body. I double-checked and triple-checked its channel, but it was broadcasting on the same one that my family's emergency devices always used. The tracker could have only been dead. Finally, I was off the grid.

"Thank you, doctor," was all I could say. I was gripped by a sudden sense of what I had just done, and a voice deep in my mind told me that I didn't belong here. I sprinted out the doors, off to the freight yard.

At the freight yard, I checked my money, determined to make it last. I wanted to reach the big city, but I did not know how much the food there would cost, or how soon I could find work. Even though I was rich, I would need to play my cards carefully.

At the start of the yard, a woman perched on top of a dependable-looking black block of a truck, inspecting something under a panel on its roof. Her dark hair hung back in a ponytail, exposing her sweet Asian face, and she wore a tank top that revealed her nicely muscled arms and stomach.

I decided there was nothing to do but ask. "Ma'am, are you leaving this port?"

The woman scanned me with her eyes, then crouched and leapt off her roof, hanging onto a handlebar so she did a smooth somersault in the air. She landed in front of me, throwing up red dust, and eyed me up close. "Who wants to know?" she asked. Her voice was soft, but I could sense the danger beneath it.

"I want to reach the big city," I told her. "Discreetly is better. I'm willing to pay."

"Well, sugar, two is a lot for one cockpit. What can you offer me?"

I decided to ignore the 'sugar' part for now. "Fifty SnapCoins."

"You're going to need a lot more than that."

"Seventy is the best I can-"

"Shhh..." she put a finger to my lips. I could feel her cold skin, and her nail polish smelled faintly metallic. "You know what, sugar? I can tell where this is headed- your money's just not in my league. But there's more ways to pay than one, you know. How about you render me some... services... along the way, and I'll waive the fee. Sound good?"

A ride for free sounded too good to be true, even if it meant pleasuring her. "I'll do it," I said.

Stepping forward, she grabbed my cheek and kissed me. "Good choice, sweet thing. Hop in. We're ready to roll in five."

I presumed to get up on the truck's roof, then down the top hatch into the cockpit. There, I was reminded of the hovercraft I had just gotten rid of. Everything was black. At least the air smelled fresh.

I slid into the narrow space behind the single seat. About a minute and a half later, she came in, practically launching herself into the seat. In a dance that looked well-rehearsed, she disengaged the brakes, sent a message to someone and finally set the truck rolling. Its wheels, weighed down by some enormous load, got traction on the sand, and we rolled away from the freight yard. In minutes, there was nothing but red sand in sight.

"Time to hold up your end of the bargain," she said to me. "Why don't you sit down right here?" She patted the seat's right armrest.

I knelt beside the seat, and she looked dreamily over at me. Her cold fingers stroked my cheek, razor-sharp nails playing close to my skin. For minutes, she petted me with just her right hand, running through my hair and playing with my lips. She got everywhere.

"Yes..." she said slowly. "This was a good deal. Get over me, sugar. Sit on my lap. And face me. I want to see that pretty face."

I stood up, careful not to hit my head on the ceiling, and threw a leg over her. Before I was ready, she pulled me down onto her legs. Her hands worked in a frenzy, grabbing at shirt buttons that weren't there, then slipping under my hem. She murmured with approval as she felt my abs. I folded my arms over my head, palms on elbows, as she scrolled the shirt up my body, eyes devouring me piece by tiny piece. I straightened my arms so she could pull my shirt off.

"Wonderful," she breathed. "Now..." She unzipped her jeans, and I saw bare skin underneath, interrupted by a pink slit. "Do what you do."

I guessed that she wanted sex, but we had no condoms, so I knelt in front of her. I paused, looking up for her approval.

"Go on," she sang. "Show me that tongue."

Leaning down, I placed my tongue on her and felt heat- the first I had felt from her. Her muscles tightened, and her legs squeezed, crushing my head. Her hand gripped my hair, and I kept going. For minutes, I teased her, giving her little prods here and there, pausing for seconds and later minutes between each touch. When I sensed that she was getting used to it, I swept my tongue all the way up her slit, and she filled the cockpit with a moan. This girl was sensitive like I had never seen before.

"That's good," she said, trying and failing to keep her voice steady. "Just keep it like that, boy. Mm... you're a natural."

I considered pulling my mouth away to say 'thank you,' then thought better of it.

Something beeped. I looked up, seeing her press two fingers to her ear. "Yeah, Kambani?"

"Maya!" said a male voice on a radio. "Where are you?"

"Nothing."

I got a naughty idea and licked her.

She bit her lip. "I mean, I'm on my way back. I'm all loaded down, so it'll take me a while."

"Is someone in there with you?" asked the voice.

I grinned with mischief, then put my lips around her clitoris just as she spoke.

"I- - mmrh... no, I never take passengers." She let out a husky laugh. "You know that, don't you?"

"What are you doing in there?"

I sucked on her clit.

"O-oh! Ah, nothing." She grabbed me by the hair and pushed me away, barely restraining another moan. "Nothing. I'm just not comfortable. The heat vents..."

"I thought you already had the heat vents fixed."

"I did, but... look, just call me back."

Another beep, and the call ended.

"That was close," she said. "You're vicious, do you know that, sugar?"

I had not sucked very hard, but I kept that to myself. I responded with just a toothy smirk.

"You know what?" she said. "You're a little too eager. So here's the new deal. As soon as I cum, you have to walk the rest of the way."

I recoiled. Being abandoned could mean death if she left me in just the wrong place.

To my relief, she laughed. "Fine, maybe I won't dump you. But I'm not kidding about this: get back to work." Her irresistible hand pushed me back into her womanhood, and I kept going.

The time melted away, until I felt the vehicle slow down. Somehow, had I spent the entire trip at her feet, servicing her without making her cum. I started to think I was better at this than I realized.

"Whew," she said. "That's enough. Good job, boy."

I clenched her zipper between my teeth and slowly zipped her jeans shut. She giggled and tousled my hair, then handed me my shirt. As soon as it was on, she grabbed me by the collar and pulled me up. She popped out the top hatch and brought me up after her.

The city stood ahead. Great black and white monoliths rose from the redness, some of them covering whole blocks and some of them bending over streets. Tramways and simple catwalks flew between them, and vines grew freely from the street sides, tangling themselves around the wire netting that reached down from the suspension bridges in the upper levels.

"Well?" said Maya. "What are you waiting for?" She spanked me through my thin shorts. "Get out there. And good luck."

I jumped off the truck. I looked back, trying to get a read on who she was beneath her smile and lust, but she was already back inside her truck. There was nothing else to do; I went into the city.

The city looked and sounded new. It even felt new. But most of what I had learned from browsing the gigantic department store back home applied here too. I moved slowly through the roiling, warmly dressed foot traffic, making no sudden movements so I would not hit anybody. I followed address numbers and looked at marquees, trying to figure out where the district lines were drawn. I started out looking for a home, then decided that I needed to find a place to work first. I had a lot of money, but my life on the farm had taught me that money always runs out faster than you think it will.

I spotted a cheap grocery store that said, 'now hiring' on the door and ducked in. "Hello?" I said to the receptionist. "May I apply for a job interview?"

The man looked up, and a cheap, bulky plastic bionic eye whirred as it focused on me. I recoiled; I hadn't been fully prepared for the city after all.

"Wait outside," said the man. "The boss'll see you in a bit."

Trusting that 'a bit' was less than an hour, I sat down outside the building, watching the sky turn to night. I wanted desperately to explore, but it would be irresponsible to leave the storefront.

"Mister," said a voice from the door. "We're ready to interview you."

Finally!

Inside, I sat down in front of a woman whose broad-brimmed hat was tipped so low that it concealed her face.

"Good evening," I said, offering my hand.

"Good evening," said a hoarse, powerful voice. "Don't shake my hand. Stand up and strip."

"What? Strip?! But this isn't the strip club! This is the gas station! I mean, the grocer's..." I was not acquitting myself well.
The woman tipped up her hat to face me. "You heard me," she said, her voice smoother.

I froze. That was Callie, the leader of the airship bandits. "But..." I said, "how?"

Two women stepped up to her side, and a third closed the door behind me. "You are not difficult to track," she said. "We could have found you just by following all the moaning. Now for the last time, strip!"

I looked around, caught and helpless in this unfamiliar place. Reluctantly, I started to pull away my shirt. When my hands reached the waist of my shorts, I hesitated, but the women's hungry looks told me that I was only making them hotter. I got the last of my clothes off as fast as I could.

"Nice," said Callie. "The crew's going to hate me for this, but I think you're too pretty to go on the airship."

I perked up, more with curiosity than hope.

Callie sat back, adjusting herself in her seat. "We've got a side operation in this city, giving jobs to underprivileged young men... as long as they've got the good looks for it."

"You're going to make me a prostitute," I said, scarcely believing it.

"Say it like it is, Victor. You're a whore."

I was shocked, not because she had called me a whore, but because she had used my real name.

"Kacey," said Callie. "Get him a blanket and take him to the brothel. If he disappears for any reason, you're on detox duty for the next month. Got it?"

A strong female hand gripped my shoulder. "Don't you worry," she said, in an equatorial drawl. "He won't be going anywhere."

She was right. This was no time to escape. I put up no resistance as Kacey wrapped a blanket around my waist, folding it so it would stay, and herded me out of the building, into a hovering van that waited for me there. I looked around for someone who might recognize what was going on and stop it, but no one did.

After a long, disconcertingly smooth ride through the sky lanes, I felt the van touch down, and the doors rolled open again. I stepped out onto a shaded platform with high guardrails. The ground was at least a hundred feet below; a deadly drop, even on Mars. Above the revolving door, bright red lights spelled out, 'High Mons Bad Boyz.'

That was all I saw before I was led inside.

Cushions were everywhere. Bright red and pink lighting cast the soft fabric in a dreamy haze, and a single ceiling fan turned slowly, stirring the warm air. Young men stood up all over the room. I had never seen so many different skin tones. Looking more closely, I saw a few older men in the group as well, some maybe as old as fifty.

Suddenly, I felt insecure. I was used to being the strongest person in the room, at least for my size. But here, everyone had firm bodies, and almost all of them were larger than I. A few piercings stuck through the ears of some smaller boys, and a few of the older men had hair on their chests. I saw what looked like war paint on one man, but I did not look at him long. If I had, he might have seen me staring and taken it as a challenge, and that would not have gone well for me.

"Hey, bitches," said Kacey easily. "Got you a new guy. Make sure he behaves himself, you all got it?"

"Yes, mistress," said a firm-voiced man with spotless white skin and slick black hair that matched his jacket. He looked at me. "What's your name, new meat?"

"I'm..." I said. "I'm Victor."

"Can you make a lady feel good?"

"No, sir. Only a woman."

He stepped up to me with sudden force, and I jumped back, almost hitting Kacey. "Now watch your tongue," he said. "You can't cop an attitude until you've been here long enough. Let me tell you something." He trapped me in a headlock, his hot skin pressing against mine, and pulled me into the corner farthest from Kacey. "Every woman's a lady, got it? This is one of the priciest brothels in the city, and even if it wasn't, every woman who walks in that door gets treated like a queen. It doesn't matter what she wants or how clean she is. She's a lady, got it?"

"Yes, sir."

He released me from his frighteningly thick arm. "I like the 'sir' thing. Keep doing that, Victor."

"Yes, sir."

He walked away, and I took stock of my new prospects. The others looked at that man with curiosity, resign and a little admiration. Clearly, he was the leader. I counted myself lucky that he was not a bully- rough, maybe, but not a bully.

"Hey," said another man beside me.

I turned and looked. A shirtless man in blue jeans with tan skin and blond stubble stepped up to me, tipping up his cowboy hat so I could see all of his face.

"My name's Bill," he said, coolly but amiably. "And every time we get a new guy, it's my job to suit him up."

"You mean I get to wear real clothes?"

"Now don't jump the gun. But you're going to need more than a towel if you want some girl to pick you. That's how you move up around here."

"Alright. I'll listen to you."

"Smart boy. Come on this way."

The dressing room was a world better than the one in the bandits' airship. Pigeonhole shelves held carefully labeled accessories, chest-wear hung on widely spaced hangars on one wall and legwear lined up adjacent to it. An image of me stood in a tall, thin mirror on the far wall. Seeing myself, I realized that my back was hunched, and I straightened my posture. Instantly, I looked a little more poised, proud and ready; all good things to be in a place where men rose or fell at the pleasure of females. Then Bill's hand flashed into view, and my towel was gone in an instant.

I gave a start.

"Don't you move," said Bill gently. "Just stand right there, and I'll get you an outfit. Ever worn form-fitting shorts before?"

"No."

"No? A cute little femboy like you?"

I looked into the mirror. I had never seen myself as a femboy before, but he had a point. Even without my long hair, which looked feminine to most people, I was still skinny, and I had the big eyes for it.

"Femboy," I repeated. "That's new. What do you have for me?"

"Here, give this a shot."

I reached out to accept the narrow bands of cloth he carried, only for him to grab me and force the them on me himself. A black and purple kilt went on first, with little slits on the sides for showing skin, then came a vest. It fit snugly, but it covered so little of me that I still felt naked.

"There," said Bill, stepping back. "Looking sharp!"

I looked myself in the mirror. This outfit was so different from anything I had worn before. It was not even like the slutty clothes that the bandits had dressed me in. I had no idea how women would react, but I liked it.

Bill led me back out into the main room, where I lounged on the cushions. That was when I realized how exhausted I was. I had not done much heavy lifting lately, but I had had no time to relax either- not until now.

I slept until an electronic bell awakened me, announcing the opening of the brothel. An hour later, the first customers showed up. First, we had a stocky, red-haired woman with tan Indian skin who picked up one of our boys and hauled him back to one of the bedrooms with no ceremony at all. The next customer went straight for our two white boys, picked the one with the bigger eyes and brought him away. A few customers later, I was picked.

"You," said a svelte black woman in a business suit. Her hair was graying, but her face was still alive with energy.

I almost said something stupid, then remembered what I was: a whore. "I'm all yours," I said, doing my best to make my ice-cap accent sound sexy.

I stepped into her arms and did not resist as she toyed with my hair, brushing my locks to the left, then the right, taking stock of my face. Just by her smile, I knew that she liked what she saw. Then she looked up, pointed past me and said, "You too."

I looked. A thin boy who I had not noticed before stood up, his bead-strewn hair and ponytail swaying around his pretty face. His shirt was tight, thin and as black as the night, with a heart-shaped cutout on his shaven chest, where his pectoral muscles stood out from his slight body. The woman freed up one arm from me and welcomed him in, then the new boy took the lead in marching us to a vacant bedroom in back.

Inside, the lock clicked shut behind us, and I looked at the ponytail boy, wondering which one of us should act first.

The woman's face went deathly serious. She sat down on the side of the bed, reached into a pocket beneath her jacket and fidgeted with something. For five long seconds, I watched this, having no idea what to do. The other boy was lost too. I stepped in close, trying to see without being invasive.

"You," she said, pointing to me. "Get on your knees, right in front of me."

I stopped and knelt. I worked my tongue around in my mouth, getting ready to pleasure her.

"Open your mouth," she said, "wide."

I stretched my jaw open. I felt fingers on my teeth, then something cold. There was a snapping noise and a sting on the roof of my mouth. I gave a little cry, which became a moan through my gaping jaws.

She released me, and I fell back, feeling something wrong. Pain washed into my head, then back out like the noise of a passing jet. Something flickered in the back of my mind, and I felt happy, then confused, then sad, vengeful and grateful all in the space of two seconds. When I had my bearings back, I saw the ponytail boy kneeling in front of her where I had been. I heard a familiar snap, and he started writhing. He sat up, palming his forehead, his eyes half-open and bleary.

"Whoah," he said, collecting himself. "What was that?"

Smirking, the woman reached into a different pocket, and I heard something click. "You're about to find out," she said. "You two? Kiss each other."

I felt a tingle in the roof of my mouth, and suddenly my body went hot. I looked at the ponytailed boy, and he seemed like a completely different person. Suddenly, it hit home how pretty he was, with that tight body rendered so beautifully under smooth black clothes. He was fit, too, with his long, graceful hair and his sharply defined face. He looked hungry. He wanted me too.

I moved first. His arms welcomed me in, and I went straight for the prize. I kissed him. His tongue was sweeter than I had ever tasted before.

"Yeah," said the woman. "Loving it."

Without breaking the kiss, I looked over at her. She looked beautiful, even more so than before I felt the tick in my mind, but I was not attracted to her; I felt something different. As soon as I recognized it, it made perfect sense. I wanted to please her. All I wanted to do was make her happy, whether that meant pleasuring her or the beautiful boy in my arms.

I felt a hand on my stomach. I thought it was the ponytailed boy, then I realized that both his hands were already on me. Before I could react, it pushed us apart. I grabbed helplessly for the boy, then looked at the woman who had separated us. I went cold. Had I done something wrong?

"I thought you loved it," I said innocently. I was just lucid enough to wonder why I was so scared of displeasing her.

Her voice rumbled through my mind, and my thoughts vanished like sparks in the air. "I do," she said. "Now we're doing something different. Come here." She drew a fistful of handcuffs, turned me around and bound my arms behind my back, wrists to elbows. Grabbing my vest, she pulled to the back of the room and threw me into a loveseat. I landed so roughly that the huge thing tipped back a little. I looked up at her, unable to get up or even adjust myself in the seat. She knelt in front of me, and warm metal clasped around my ankles. I tried to move them, and sure enough, they were chained to the chair legs.

I looked up at the woman, helpless. She stood with her hands on her hips, eyeing every part of my body. When she saw my cock, which poked up through the skirt, her smile deepened, and she tugged on the hem, revealing the base of my cock, with the head still caught under the cloth. She pulled again, showing a bit of my shaft, completely red from my erection. One more tug, and the skirt came away. My cock wobbled in the air, a drop of precum rolling down the underside. I realized how close I was to orgasm and silently hoped that I could satisfy her before my stamina ran out.

"Now," she said, forcing the ponytailed boy down in front of me, "Just sit back and enjoy."

She leaned down to the other boy, whispered something in his ear, then pushed his head up to my cock. When I realized what was about to happen, I almost tried to get up, but the woman's lustful stare kept me pinned. I needed to please her.

The boy's lips went around my head, and I felt the first bit of suction. My legs bucked. His lips went farther, and I closed my eyes, desperately trying to hold myself together as his sucking settled into a rhythm. Spasms assailed my lungs, and a little moan escaped my lips, then another. My chest rose and fell rapidly, and I clawed at the loveseat. Finally, the suction became too much, and I threw my head back, groaning as, after all of the abuse I had taken, I finally released.

When I knew where I was again, the ponytailed boy had let go of my cock, although I could still see a string of cum trailing from my tip to his lips. The woman hugged him tightly from behind, watching my cock go flaccid.

"You're a keeper," she said.

Worry welled up inside me. Which one of us did she mean?

"Both of you," she said, as if I had asked the question aloud. "So you know what? Here's the deal." She drew an envelope and set it on my right leg, balanced on my tense muscles. A series of numbers was written across the front. "There's some money in there. Use it to get to that address. I'll be waiting for you."

She stroked the boy's hair one last time, then stood up and sauntered off, concealing her nervousness with a swaying of her hips. She left us a wet, sweating mass of male flesh.

Finally, the boy snapped out of his stupor and took the card. He read the address on the front, taking at least two minutes to stare at it, then gently opened it. He gave a start, then pulled out a key.

Somehow, I had forgotten that I was bound. "Thank you," I said, as he freed me. He crawled up my lap, and I stopped him with my hands before he could kiss me. "Hold on," I said, "what's in that envelope? It could be important." It was important. I didn't know why I was sure, but I was.

He handed it to me, and as I saw the address, something clicked in the roof of my mouth, and I realized why he had found it so fascinating. This was no ordinary address. I had never heard of it before, but now it was of critical importance. No matter what happened, I needed to reach it.

"We have to go here," said the other boy.

"I know," I said. "She said there was money. Let's see..." I found a few metal chips in the bottom and counted them up in my palm. They were fifty SnapCoins total- enough to get us out of the city, maybe, but not much farther before I would have to start paying for passage the old-fashioned way.

I looked again at the address. This time, some of its magic had worn off, and I could think clearly while I read it. It was an urban address, like none I had never seen before, but its bottom line was clear enough. It was in this same city.

Best of all, one of the coins in my hand was not a coin at all. It was a glass cutter. Running to the window, I looked down and saw that the building's surface was slotted. We could cut through the window and climb down.

"Perfect," I said. "I can get us to this address. Are you with me?"

"Yes."

"What's your name, friend?" I almost called him 'brother,' but it felt wrong after what we had just done.

"Terin."

"Okay. I'm Victor. Get ready to climb, Terin, because I'm about to end the world's shortest career in prostitution."

I raised the glass cutter to the window, then stopped myself and took the time to put my clothes on. They weren't much, but if I were to go naked through the city, someone might arrest me, or a woman might run me down and ride me again. And I had the sense that I would need all my stamina for when we reached our destination.

The glass cutter did its job well. After one last, resigned moment of thought for the boys I was about to leave behind, I crawled through the hole, which was barely big enough, and into the frigid night air outside. My bare feet stung, then went numb as I hooked my toes into the grooves in the wall, grabbing onto the lips around the windows with my hands. After climbing down four feet, I looked up and was gratified to see Terin following me.

We were so high that I knew I would only scare myself if I looked down. So I thought of old songs my mother used to sing me, or imagined good opening moves in Chess, or tried to remember if Canada or the USA became a sovereign nation first. I thought about anything that I thought might distract me. The whole time, my hands and feet did their work, and when I finally looked down, I was only about thirty feet from the ground. At teen feet, I jumped off and made a smooth landing.

Terin was more cautious. He waited until his feet were practically on the ground before letting go. When he did, he put his hand over his chest and panted, the city light glistening off his shiny black shirt.

"We've got to be quick," I said, as soon as he gathered himself. "Now we just need..." I patted myself down for the address, then realized that I had left it in the brothel. "...shit."

"What is it?" asked Terin, his eyes getting small. "What's wrong?"

"The address. I don't have it. And I don't remember where we're going."

"I do! Come on, follow me." He sounded more desperate than eager.

I felt it too. It was like an analogue clock stuck into the bottom of my brain, and with every tick, I understood a little more of where I was going. Our last customer was important. I was increasingly sure that we would see her, wherever we were going. Then we would receive something. But what was it? What was so fragile that she couldn't smuggle it to us in the envelope?

And why us?

Terin must have been a city boy, because he knew more than just the main, marked streets. He brought us through an alley, which I was sure would be trouble, and even used a drainage pipe, which was mercifully dry. Finally, he stopped us underneath a sun shelter.

"What are we waiting for?" I asked him.

He only put a finger to his lips, and a minute later, we were moving again.

We stopped at a fancy-looking grey metal building that was braided like an old-fashioned ice cream cone, seemingly just to look futuristic. Colorful stripes ran up and down its sides. "We're here," he said.

I breathed a sigh of relief. The wait had gone from being stressful to frightening. But now, for better or for worse, I would know why I needed to be here.

He led me into the building, past the reception desk and up to the ninth floor. The door we wanted was just a few dozen feet from the elevator.

"This is it," said Terin, staring up at the door like it was a wormhole. "This is the address we're supposed to go to."

I felt its importance just as he did, but I saw no point in standing still and gaping at it. I walked up and knocked on the door as softly as I could. Less than two seconds later, it opened.

Another boy stood in the doorway, much taller than Terin and me but not much broader, with bushy, almost messy blond hair and a sharp little point of a beard on his chin.

"Hey, you made it," he said, in an Earthly drawl that made my accent sound subtle. "Why don't you come on in? Got any shoes?"

"No, sir," I said. There it was again: 'sir.' I hadn't even thought about it.

"That's fine," said the blond boy. "Alright, wait here, and I'll go tell Mistress. Oh, and stand up straight. Look good for her. Here..." He gave his fingers one long, hard lick, then grabbed me and slicked my hair down. I had to stop myself from flinching. "There," he said, "Your hair was getting a bit wild." He looked at Terin. "This is awesome... you both look great. I can't wait 'till Mistress sees this." He jogged off.
'Stand up straight,' said a voice in my head. It wasn't my thought. It was someone else speaking inside my brain. What it said was benign for now- after all, I had to look good for my new purpose- but I worried that it might try to make me do something wrong. I made a note to be on guard.

Then she arrived. It was definitely the same woman who had found us in the brothel, but now she was dressed like a true mistress. A shiny black dress flowed from her waist all the way down to her ankles, accented with bright, lime green stripes that followed her legs. The dress covered her all the way up to her collarbone, but it left her shoulders bare, and nothing could hide her sweet, toned figure.

"You two got here quickly," she said, in a voice one octave deeper than she had used at the brothel. "You're dedicated. I like that." We stayed still from the necks down, eyes locked on her as she marched up to us. Her high heels elevated her to at least a foot above us. She put a hand on each of our shoulders and pressed us together. "Now listen closely," she said.

Click! Something twitched just beneath my mouth.

"I love you," she said.

'I love you,' said the voice in my head. I wondered at it for a moment, but it must have been true. I did not know how, but it had to be.

"And you love me," she said.

That hardly seemed relevant. She loved me, so I had to be hers.

"And you will call me Mistress."

I was disappointed. Mistress only meant a woman who slept with married men, I thought. I could think of so many better titles for her. Or better yet, real names. Surely, Mistress had a name. I wondered if I could learn it someday.

"Now," she said, "give me the envelope."

I sucked in a quick breath. Terin wobbled on his feet, doing nothing, so I broke the news. "It's still in the brothel," I told her. "I forgot it there. I'm sorry, Mistress."

Mistress' jaw dropped, and she trembled for a moment, then instantly regained herself. It was a gesture I knew well from my father, and it made me feel horrible to see that I had inflicted it on my new owner too.

"Is this true?" she asked, pointing at Terin.

"Yes, Mistress," said Terin weakly.

Mistress looked down, keeping her composure, but I could see the desperation in those eyes. "Mr. Phillips!" she called.

"Yes, Mistress?" asked a thin, pale, lightly bearded young man in a business suit with no tie. Slick black gloves covered his hands.

"We're about to be found out. Get the moving in order. I'm going to call my contact in the police and try to buy us time. Mr. Mombau!"

A heavy-set man with a flat face and dark skin stepped up next, standing exactly where Mr. Phillips had been. His abundant black hair gave power to his gaze. "Yes, Mistress?"

She pointed to me. "Tie him to the office wall, facing me. He shouldn't give you any trouble. And I want the white one under my table. Also, get collars on them."

"Yes, Mistress." Mr. Mombau inspected the collar I was already wearing and nodded his approval, then I felt a pull as he yanked me and Terin after the Mistress.

We were led into a computer room with an impressive array of hardware framing a single, average-size computer screen. Mr. Mombau shoved Terin under the desk, locking him into a kneeling position with his arms shackled to the underside and his head thrust forward. Mr. Mombau drew a ring gag from his pocket and held it up to Terin, who opened his mouth obediently. Then the bigger man hesitated. "She didn't mention this," he mumbled. "Next time, maybe." He put it away.

He turned to me. I had hoped he would be pleasantly surprised that I had sat there obediently, but he registered no reaction at all. Instead, he wrested my arms up into a set of hand cuffs I had not even seen, then pushed me back until I went flat against the wall. I squealed against the cold surface, gritting my teeth to muffle the noise, then Mr. Mombau put a hand on my stomach, flattening me to it. My muscles strained uselessly as the cold punished my skin, then the sensation went away. Either the wall had warmed, or my back was numb. Maybe both.

With the same skill, Mr. Mombau pried my legs apart and hooked them into rope loops, making me twitch as the hard, braided cord pulled tight around my skin. A single pull of a braided rope, and my feet were a whole yard apart. He stood up and smiled down at me.

His fingers played on my cock, and I moaned.

"You like it?" he said. "That's good. Mistress always likes to see a hard cock. Even while you're being punished."

"Punished?"

"That's right. You've put her through a lot of trouble. But that's no reason to be soft." He bounced my balls on his fingers, and I got dizzy. "That's right, get good and hard. Don't worry. Mistress loves you too."

I did not doubt it, but as he turned away, I still felt wretched. I could hear men giving orders and bare feet scattering across carpet. I, and I alone, had set the whole house into an uproar. I knew I would never live this down.

Thankfully, Mistress interrupted my thoughts by marching in, hurried but graceful. She looked down at Terin and sighed. "I can't do it," she said, peeling him out of his restraints. "On your back, boy. I need release." She unzipped her pants, revealing no clothes beneath them.

Terin let slip a little smile as he positioned himself obediently beneath her. He propped his back up on his arms and stared dreamily at her.

Mistress pushed him flat, making his arms collapse. "On your back, I said." Straddling him, she took hold of his nipples and rolled them between her fingertips. "Yes..." she said to herself, "Yes, I need this."

She found his cock and stroked it twice, then let herself go. She came down on him all the way, her rear slapping into his thighs, then went up again and almost dismounted his cock. Her next few pushes were shorter and faster, and I only caught glimpses of his firm, soaking-wet white cock underneath her.

Terin cringed, and I could have sworn I felt my own balls getting tight. He gritted his teeth and grunted, while Mistress pressed herself onto him, moaning as his first wave went into her, then his second.

She came away, squelching as her mixture of cum and juice tried to stick them together. She reached down, and her fingers played her pussy. Her moaning rose again, and she clutched Terin, grinding her femininity on his hot, wet skin. When she quieted down, her breathing was fast, and her fingers made painful depressions on him.

"That's good," she said, standing up. "That took the edge off."

She snapped her fingers twice, and a short blue-haired boy brought her a rough-looking purple towel. She snatched it and wiped herself aggressively, then zipped her pants shut, handed back the towel and snatched a phone from its stand on the desk. "Telephone," she said into it, with the clear diction of a voice command, "call speed-dial four." She walked out of the room. A few seconds later, I heard her voice saying something in a commanding tone.

I tested my handcuffs in case I had any freedom of movement. I didn't. I flexed my fingers, trying to keep them from going numb, but the sensation was already creeping into my fingertips. I started to struggle.

"What are you doing?" asked Terin. "What's wrong?"

"My arms," I grunted. "They're numb."

"I'm sorry."

"Can't you help me?" As soon as those words left my lips, I felt the familiar ping in the roof of my mouth, and I knew it was silly. Mistress wanted me on this wall, my body displayed for her, so that was where I would be. I looked sheepishly at Terin and saw in his eyes that he had the same thought.

We both went quiet.

Finally, Mistress came back. Without breaking her stride, she pulled Terin up to his feet as she walked past him. She put the phone back in its place, turned to leave, then saw me as if for the first time. "Mr. Mombau!" she called. "Put the new boys to bed. Mr. Phillips, tell me how the progress has gone." She marched out of the room.

Seconds later, Mr. Mombau appeared and set to work on my restraints. I could barely feel his warm skin brushing on mine as he freed me. "Thank you," I huffed, as I brought my hands down, feeling the blood flow back into my fingers.

"Stay sharp," said Mr. Mombau, his face mere inches away from mine. "The Mistress is frightened. She has not been this frightened in all my time here. No mistakes, understand?"

"I understand," I said resolutely. Whenever there was chaos, there was opportunity, and this was my chance to prove my dedication. "What do you want me to do?"

"Follow me."

Terin followed him even more closely than I did. We entered through a tall, thin doorway into a room lined with a few enormous mattresses. Boys sat up straight on the edge and a few of them stood by the doorway. All of them stared at us, looking curious and, to my horror, hostile.

"Get back in bed!" snapped Mr. Mombau. "You need sleep. As soon as we leave, we might not sleep for days."

I asked, "Are we-"

"Get in bed," said Mombau again, shoving us forward. "Sleep. And be ready to go when I call you."

Terin and I exchanged looks. The other boys formed a circle around us, eyeing us everywhere. I only saw four of them who had more clothes than I did.

"Now who's this?" said the biggest of them. "Two! Two new ones... what a day. So what are your names?"

I remembered Mistress' orders, and I stepped forward. "I need sleep," I said. "I need as much rest as I can get. And you need it too, Terin." As gently as I could, I muscled through the row of boys, relieved to see Terin following me. I tried to ignore all of the eyes on me as I climbed onto the bed, hands sinking into the mattress, and tried to sleep.

I had thought I would never be able to get any rest with all of this panic, but as soon as I felt a pillow beneath my head, my body reminded me how long it had been since my last real night's sleep. Terin snuggled in next to me, and we fell asleep back-to-back.

When I woke up, I had no idea what the time was. Back home, I had always told the time by the sun, the animals, and the noises in the kitchen. Here, I could only ask someone, and there was no one to ask. Everyone was in a frenzy. They gathered up fistfuls of clothes and tossed around scraps. They pushed and shoved, but nobody fought. It was not a brawl, but a stampede.

"Get moving!" said someone, probably Mr. Phillips. "Go! We've been made!"

I didn't know what it meant to made, but I gathered that we weren't safe here anymore. The door threw open, and I paused a moment to let the crowd trample through, then went after them.

"Mistress!" yelled a voice, "They're not ready! We can't go out like this!"

"Just leave them!" she cried.

'Oh, no,' I thought.

I looked around, trying to find the door, but I did not know the layout of the place. A door slammed shut, and Mistress' voice vanished. The rest of the boys kept running, but I stopped. I tried to find Terin. He was not near me.

"What do we do now?" whimpered someone.

There came a pounding at the door. A few people jumped, but my hopes were not raised. That could not be Mistress.

Just as we reached the lobby, the door caved in, its lock smashed open. More people came in, but something was wrong about them. They were covered in hard, crisp armor, and half of them were females. "Police!" they barked. "Hands up! This is the police!"

The ever-present buzzing in the roof of my mouth reached a crescendo, and a voice shouted in my head, too muffled for me to understand. I clutched my forehead, trying to stay conscious. I couldn't. The world drifted away, and I felt as though my brain had dropped through the floor.

When I woke up, I was on a crooked bed. A woman stood over me, but she wasn't Mistress. Her skin was not dark enough. I tried to remember who she was and where she had gone, but nothing came to me.

And why was I calling her 'Mistress?'

At that rebellious thought, I expected to feel buzzing erupt through the bottom of my mind, but nothing came. Even the lack of it felt normal somehow.

"There you go," said the woman, in a gentle but businesslike voice. "How are you feeling? Better?"

"Yes," I said, with a slight lisp. I palmed my jaw and stretched my mouth muscles, regaining my sense of my own body. "What happened to me? There was some woman... Terin and I both went to her. But I can't remember why."

The woman shook her head- not at me, I sensed, but at herself. "This is a textbook case," she said. "The one you've been calling 'Mistress' is actually Sasha Mengu. And she's been doing this for a long time."

"She brainwashed me..."

"That's right."

"And you saved me? Who are you?"

"We're Mars for Everyone. We're a nonprofit organization dedicated to improving the conditions of the inner city. Our branch focuses on prostitution."

"Which is how you found me."

"Not exactly. Sasha had been one of us, until we realized that she was keeping the males for herself as thralls. And now we know how she kept them all in line: brain chips. By now it's been..." she counted on her fingers and mouthed a curse. "It's been two years since we lost track of her. And all that time, she's been snatching up helpless boys like you."

"Helpless?" I stood up. "Do you know where I came from?" She stared at me, unconvinced. I decided to drop it. "Well," I said, "what happens to me now?"

"Now you've hit the jackpot." She handed me a slick white slip. "Take this to the transporter's office, and she'll see about getting you clothes, a name and a degree."

"A degree?!"

"You heard me. Thanks to our donors, we can get higher education for everyone."

I stared at the white slip, unwilling to believe it was true. There had to be some kind of catch.

"Go now," she said. "What are you waiting for?"

A door in the side of the room opened, and I jogged through, out to meet whatever was ahead.

* * *

When the prostitute finished his story, he put a hand over his chest as if he was out of breath.

"So," said Keesha, "you got saved."

"Ya. After I'd saved myself enough times, I fell into the right hands. And the rest is history. My family knows I'm alive, I've never heard from the pirates since, and I'm rich. Middle-class, anyway."

"So middle-class, you'll sell your body for twenty-six fedcoins?"

He smirked. "I managed to save the slut clothes that they gave me at the brothel. So some nights, when I feel naughty and dangerous, I come out here and work the streets."

"You're made for this job, you know that, boy?"

His smirk got even more lopsided. "I don't know how to take that."

"How about this?" She shuffled onto her knees and opened his vest. "Time for round two."

boy  

Aug 29, 2018 in femdom

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