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THE GIFT by Angela Benedetti - full story
I would take very good care of it and love it so much that one
day it might become a real boy - a la Pinocchio or something. :P
Thank you Santa and Merry Christmas! I'll leave you lots of
yummy cookies for when you come.
P.S. I would prefer a darker haired/green eyed model (or two).
Thanks again!
***************************
Austin stepped off the slidewalk, palmed open the door to his unit and stepped inside, out of the
community space and into his own private space where he didn't have to pretend to be perfectly
happy and well-adjusted anymore. He'd just spent the prescribed two hours at yet another horribly
embarassing Mixer Social, trying to avoid one man in a small group of twenty-three. The Fountain
Four Neighborhood Social Center was spacious, but the Fiveday Mixer Social was for unattached
men in the neighborhood who tended toward other men, and there just weren't that many of them.
He'd hardly had time to sigh out his relief at having that over with, and start dreading the next
week's Social, when his door buzzed. A box appeared through the delivery panel and slid to a stop
on the smooth tile floor.
A really big box. Fairly huge, actually, like the size of a piece of furniture, taking up most of the
width in his tiny entry hall. Austin was sure he hadn't ordered anything anywhere near that size
recently -- not in a year or more, at least.
He checked the delivery stamp, sure it must be a mistake, but that was his name and his unit
code. It wasn't a mistake, or if it was it'd been made somewhere deeper in the system than a
delivery glitch.
An angelic looking young man
with white blonde hair and
pale blue eyes lies naked in a
very large cardboard box. He
is surrounded by styrofoam
packing peanuts and has
seams at his wrists, shoulders
and hips as if it he is an
assembled doll.
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Austin scooted around to the other side of the box -- the crate, because it was really big -- and
layed his palm on the access patch. He heard a rrrrrip-click and the lid separated from the sides,
then swung upward.
The inside cavity was filled with fluff-foam packing bits. Austin pushed his hands in and dug
down, hunting blindly for whatever might be buried deeper in. More bits, more bits...
...he jerked back with a yelp and smacked into the wall, his eyes wide with shock.
He'd touched something that felt like an arm -- a dead arm, a chunk of a cadaver. Smooth skin
with some give to it, what felt like perfectly relaxed muscle underneath, a scattering of soft hairs,
and it'd been cool, the same late-evening temperature he'd just walked through on his way home.
That couldn't be right. If someone was dead, whether of sickness or accident or murder, Austin
couldn't imagine why anyone would send him the corpse in a crate.
He stared into the box at the packing bits for a minute, then very slowly reached out with one
hand and started brushing them away, a few at a time, so he wouldn't touch anything he didn't want
to touch, at least not accidentally.
Strands of wispy blond hair appeared, then a smooth forehead, and Austin swallowed hard.
All right, he thought, straighten up. It can't possibly be a dead body. Even assuming anyone
would send you a cadaver, they don't look like that. Dead bodies look all blotchy and shiny. This
one looks more like it's asleep. He. It's male -- it looks like he's asleep.
Which was another impossible idea. Why would some strange man have himself packed into a
box and sent to Austin, asleep or not?
"This is stupid," he muttered to himself. "Just do it."
Austin leaned over and jammed his hands down into the box, grabbed the guy under the arms
and heaved.
A limp -- and naked, don't forget the naked part -- body came surging up into Austin's arms, and
if the crate hadn't been pretty sturdy, the whole thing, box and guy and Austin himself, would've
overturned and crashed to the floor. As it was, Austin ended up with both arms wrapped around
the man's naked chest.
It was still cool. There was no movement, neither the slow rhythm of breathing or the faster
tempo of a heartbeat.
It almost seemed....
Austin propped the guy's shoulders against his own chest to free up one hand, and sent it
searching down first one arm, then the other. There, the left hand had a smooth, twisted cord
around it, with an info tag dangling. He squeezed the tag, and a mellow, androgynous voice said,
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"Congratulations on your acquisition of a first quality BioServ Synthetic Companion, model 218C-S.
Please view the introduction before attempting activation."
Synthetic Companion. Austin nearly fainted in relief; it was a sex doll. A really good sex doll --
it'd probably cost more than Austin earned in several years -- but it wasn't an actual dead body and
that was the important thing.
Of course it wasn't a dead body. Austin heaved out a sigh and gave a quick, reflexive glance
around, as though there might be someone lurking in his unit waiting to laugh at how ridiculous
he'd been.
Well, yes, once he knew the answer, his irrational imaginings did seem pretty stupid.
The doll was as heavy as a grown man would've been, and Austin's arms were getting tired. One
more good heave and he had the thing out of the box and layed down on the floor...
...and for the second time that night, he yelped and jerked backward into the wall.
The doll, it's face -- it looked exactly like Shay. The same bright green eyes, with clear, light
brown skin and honey-blond hair. Broad shoulders, nimble-looking hands, and it looked to be
about the right height, although it was hard to tell with the doll lying down.
Five minutes of trying to work out exactly who would send Austin a Synthetic Companion with
the face of the man he'd been making a fool of himself over for months got him nothing but a
headache. He took the info tag, left the doll on the floor, and went over to the media unit.
The tag was just the usual bundle of files about operation and maintenance. He scanned until he
found the vid about the on switch, then stashed the rest to watch later if he needed to. There was
also a clicker for a continuously updated offering of upgrades and accessories. Just looking at some
of them made Austin wince and imagine he could hear his credit balance howling in pain; he'd stick
with the standard model.
That thought made him lean back against the lounge cushions and consider.
Should I keep it? he wondered. What if it's a joke? Someone trying to embarass me? Not that I
need much help, the way my brain turns inside-out whenever I'm at Social and Shay's in the room....
It was ridiculously expensive for a joke, though. He didn't know how much any of his friends or
neighbors earned, of course; questions about employment or finances in a social context was
horribly rude, and while Austin wasn't a stickler, he wasn't raised in a sewer, either. Fountain Four
was a comfortable but not a wealthy neighborhood, and he couldn't imagine anyone he knew being
able to afford a Synthetic Companion for themself, or even as a serious gift, much less as a joke.
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There was no name on the shipping stamp, but Austin tried querying the shipper anyway. As
he'd expected, it came back as an anonymous send. The CS responder asked if he wanted to reject
the shipment, or register a protest; Austin declined and closed the query.
Only one thing left. Austin still felt kind of shy about activating the thing, even knowing that was
ridiculous. It wasn't a person -- it was a sophisticated thing, an appliance. It didn't make any sense
to feel shy or embarassed around it, any more than he'd feel ashamed to go naked in front of his
cooker.
Fine. Just do it, then.
He knelt down next to the not-really-a-naked-man in his entry and lifted the head, gently, with
one hand. With the other, he felt through the hair at the back of the skull until he came to a small,
regular bump. He pressed it, and the thing's eyes blinked open.
Even having expected it, Austin still startled enough that he almost dropped its head onto the
floor. It sat up and looked around; Austin scooted back a little and watched the thing working.
It looked human.
Well, of course it did; it was the most expensive human simulation current technology could
product. Not an android -- they weren't quite up to creating a purely synthetic human being yet,
but as close as anyone could get coming from a robotics-and-AI direction.
The doll took a quick glance around, then sat up and turned to face Austin with a friendly smile.
"Hello. You're Austin Green?"
Austin just stared for a second, not used to having things that looked like people talking to him,
before he finally said, "Yes, that's me."
"Great! I belong to you now, and I'm sure we'll have a lot of good times together. My name is
Shay."
Austin felt his throat clench, and he had to cough a couple of times. Although once he thought
about it, he wasn't sure why he was surprised; it did look exactly like the Shay he knew, after all.
That couldn't be a coincidence, so why wouldn't they -- whoever "they" were -- give it Shay's name?
"Ahh, good. That's... that's fine."
The doll studied his face, then said, "You can change my name if you want to. Just say 'Shay, I
rename you' and the new name. You can change it as many times as you want, until you find
something you like."
"Umm, no, that's all right, it's fine." Austin shook his head and stood up, trying to figure out what
to do next. The doll -- Shay, he needed to start thinking of it as Shay if he wasn't going to change the
name, which wouldn't work because it'd still have Shay's face and calling something with Shay's
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face something else would be weirder than Austin wanted to deal with. The situation was already
weird and adding to it felt like a really bad idea.
Shay-the-doll stood up, and seeing it full-length, standing there in front of him, made Austin very
much aware that it was naked. Completely naked.
Next thing to do was get some clothes for the-- for Shay. Austin slipped past the naked body
standing in his entry and headed back toward his bedroom. "Come on," he said. "I'll find you
something to wear. My clothes should fit you well enough, I think, at least for now."
He heard Shay following him. It walked as quietly as any barefoot human. He'd half expected it
to clunk along. Machines were supposed to clunk. Or whir or rumble, something like that.
Shay padded along quietly, his bare soles making a light, nearly inaudible scuffing sound against
the smooth floor, so quiet that when he walked up behind Austin, who was digging in a wall bin for
a pair of shorts, Austin had no idea he was that close until a pair of warm arms wrapped around
him from behind, and a solid chest pressed up against his back.
"I appreciate the thought," said Shay, "but are you sure you want me to get dressed right now?
I'll just have to take it all off soon anyway."
Austin closed his eyes and leaned back into the embrace. It felt wonderful -- strong and solid,
the skin smooth but not plastic-smooth, just yielding enough with a firmness to suggest healthy
muscle underneath. It even smelled right, warm and a little musky.
He let go of the garments he'd been sorting through and wrapped his arms over the arms
crossed at his waist. He gave them a firm squeeze, then let go and rotated in Shay's arms--
--and found himself staring into bright green eyes that were unmistakeably Shay's, in Shay's face,
with his mouth and chin and that one quirky eyebrow, and a sudden rush of shy/awkward/shame
flooded Austin. He looked away and pulled himself out of Shay's arms, taking five quick steps
across the room.
"No. I mean, yes -- find yourself something, shorts and a top, whatever you want, just get
dressed. Please. Something you wouldn't mind sleeping in is fine, but.... Please."
He stood there against the wall, his forehead pressing against the cool surface, wishing he
weren't such an idiot. It was just a doll, a thing, a fancy robot. It was ridiculous to be embarassed
by it, or in front of it, but Austin couldn't help it. He knew it wasn't really Shay, but his gut didn't
believe it, and didn't care what his brain said.
And now the thing was going to be living with him. Not living, but... whatever you wanted to call
it. It was his and would be in his unit with him, for however long he had it.
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The thought was horrifying in a way. Bad enough he had to struggle with his awkwardness at
Fiveday Social every week; that was only for two hours. This thing that was an exact copy of Shay,
that twisted his guts and his tongue in exactly the same way, was going to be in his home, all the
time.
Austin stifled a groan and rubbed his forehead with his palm. What now? Sending it back would
be more complicated now, and he'd have to justify the rejection after having specifically accepted
the delivery and passed by the opportunity to protest. He could sell it, but for something as
expensive as a Synthetic Companion, that'd take time. And since he didn't know who'd sent it to
him or why, he had no idea how that person would react to his immediately getting rid of it. What if
it was a friend? Someone who'd be hurt or angry if he sold their gift?
Well, it'd have to be a friend, wouldn't it? Someone who barely knew your name didn't spend
that much on a gift. Maybe someone who knew he was stuck on Shay and thought he'd enjoy having
a doll that looked like him? Austin was sure whoever'd sent the thing had meant well, and thought
they were helping him out, doing him a favor. He didn't feel very grateful, though, right at that
point.
"What's wrong?"
The voice was closer than it should've been; the doll had come closer while Austin's brain was
spinning, trying to figure out what to do.
"Nothing. I mean, nothing you can help with." Austin glanced up at the concerned face -- Shay's
concerned face, even if it wasn't the real Shay wearing it -- then looked away again and added, more
quietly, "Your appearance is disturbing."
The was a silent moment. "You don't care for my appearance?"
Shay sounded almost hurt. Austin knew AIs could replicate emotions perfectly, but he wasn't
sure whether they actually felt things. Some people said yes and others no, and he didn't know
what to believe. The one in front of him sounded a little deflated, though.
"I don't... dislike your appearance," he said, still not looking at it. "You're very attractive."
"I'm a popular model. I realize you didn't choose me, but many people do."
That got Austin to look up. "There are more of you? I mean, not just your... your baseline system
or something like that, but other dolls look like you? Your face and all?"
"Yes, there are many other Companions like me. Did you think I was a custom order? I
understand how that could be disappointing."
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"No! I mean...." Austin trailed off. He hadn't really thought about it, but it hadn't occurred to
him that there might be a whole line of dolls that looked like Shay. He'd never seen any, but then,
how many people took their Synthetic Companions out with them?
Although once he thought about it, another glance at not-Shay confirmed that any number of
people might well take their Companions out and Austin would never have noticed.
"Austin?" The doll took a step closer, but only one. "I'm sorry about my appearance. I'd change
it for you if I could." He sounded honestly distressed at being unable to help. "If you want, you can
just have me sit or lie down somewhere out of the way, and turn me off. The kill switch is the same
as the power switch -- push it four times within five seconds and I'll just be another thing in a
corner you can ignore."
A corpse, thought Austin. That'd been what he'd originally thought, and if he powered Shay
down -- used the kill switch -- he'd look like one again.
He shuddered and shook his head. "No, it's fine. You can stay... active."
Shay touched Austin's shoulder for just a second and said, "Thank you. I really don't like being
turned off."
"No, I don't guess you would." It was probably like sleeping without dreams, but not knowing
whether you'd wake up. Or maybe not? "Do you dream? When you're turned off?"
"No, I don't."
Austin nodded, then moved away, toward the laundry bin. He was tired, and the whole day had
been stressful. Staying up talking to his new Companion didn't sound like a relaxing idea. It'd
probably take him a while to get to sleep anyway, so he stripped off -- trying without success to
prevent himself from blushing -- and stuffed his worn clothes into the bin for cleaning.
He sat down on the side of the bed and looked over at Shay, trying to think what to have him do
all night, only to find that Shay had discarded the shorts he'd had on for only a few minutes and was
sitting on the bed as well, on the opposite side.
Well, right, he was a fancy sex doll. Of course he'd assume his place was in bed with his owner.
Austin sighed and said, "I don't want to... I mean, I just... I'm tired. I'm sorry, but I just want to sleep
right now."
Shay nodded, slipped under the cover, and closed his eyes.
He wasn't taking up much of the bed, nor trying to be enticing or anything. Austin wasn't up to
an argument, or even the ridiculously embarassing command and explanation it would probably be,
since the Companion wouldn't argue with him. He just got into bed, careful to stay on his own side,
and touched the light control. The room went dark; time to try to sleep.
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***
Austin drifted out of a wonderful dream, moaning and sweating and tense in all the right ways.
While sleeping, he'd imagined that his shyness had vanished, his shameful awkwardness had never
existed, and he'd approached Shay at Social with confidence, making him laugh, showing him how
much fun they could have together. They'd talked and danced and then gone home to Austin's unit
where they'd fallen into bed in a tangle of arms and legs, touching and kissing and sharing pleasure
and joy.
The pleasure surged and overflowed and Austin woke up with a loud, ecstatic cry, all helpless
vowels, his hips thrusting up and his cock spilling into warm, tight suction. He recognized the
angles of his bedroom while the walls were spinning down and the lights flashing in front of his
eyes were fading back into the dark. His cock relaxed and a moment later his brain once more had
enough blood to fully function.
Of course he remembered the sex doll that looked like Shay. He'd remembered it while
climaxing, but at that time it hadn't seemed important. Or maybe that was just one of the things his
brain hadn't had enough blood to deal with.
As soon as his heartbeat slowed to normal and he could breathe without gasping, though, he was
well aware of what'd just happened. At first he wanted to be angry, but being angry with a sex doll
was like getting angry with a dildo or a knife or a chair. It was just a way of displacing your anger at
yourself, and it made you look like an idiot.
Austin shoved the cover aside and looked down at the messy, honey-gold hair still spread across
his belly. The doll, the Companion -- Shay -- looked up at him with a smile that was both sweet and
mischievous.
"Did you like that?" Shay crawled up Austin's body and settled down half on top of him, his head
on Austin's outstretched arm and one hand on Austin's chest.
Austin managed a wry smile and said, "If you have to ask then your AI isn't as advanced as I
thought it was."
Shay laughed, a warm, rich sound that faded into a muffled snicker. "I thought you probably did,
but it seemed polite to ask."
"I'm glad to hear you're polite." Austin turned and pressed a kiss into Shay's hair without
thinking about it, and at the same time noticed what was pressing against his thigh. He reached
down and stroked the hard cock and said, "I should probably be polite in return."
Shay's smile got wider and he rolled a quarter-turn onto his back. "I'd like that. Being polite to
one another is probably the best way to get along."
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"Likely so." Austin stroked harder, adding a rub across the head at random intervals, and shifted
over so he could kiss Shay while pleasuring him. With the first orgasm past, it seemed ridiculous to
keep worrying about should he or shouldn't he. It was a sex toy. He had other sex toys and he
didn't feel any embarassment over using any of them whenever he felt the urge. He felt a strong
urge to use the handsome, sexy toy in his bed; he'd worry about who'd sent it and why later.
***
Over the next week, Austin was a little surprised at how easily he became accustomed to having
Shay around. It was exactly like living with another human. He'd never shared a unit with anyone
who wasn't family, but the blending of routines and sharing of tasks felt the same. Although he
knew it wasn't necessary, he found himself on his best behavior, being a little neater than usual,
more likely to stay in line with habits and routines. It was exactly like the impression he'd gotten
from friends and co-workers who'd shared units with friends of their own or with lovers, and
Austin expected he'd relax eventually. But no matter how often he told himself that Shay wouldn't
care if Austin left his worn clothes on the floor over night, he still felt embarassed at the thought of
someone else -- even an artificial someone -- seeing him be sloppy.
The following Fiveday, Austin went to Social feeling a bit odd, but over all more relaxed than he
had in a long time. He was able to smile at Shay -- the real one -- and even speak to him for a few
moments without feeling the overwhelming shyness that usually turned him into an idiot in the
man's presence. His brain knew that this wasn't the same Shay he'd lived with for the previous
week, but to his gut it felt the same, and frequent exposure had burned out most of the embarassed
brain-static that'd been so crippling before.
Whatever the purpose had been, whoever'd given him Shay-the-Companion had done him a
great favor.
When he got home later that evening, Shay was waiting. As soon as the door closed behind
Austin, Shay was pressed up against him, kissing him hard.
"I missed you," Shay said, in low, breathy words that brushed past Austin's ear. "You're gone so
long for work, and Social days are even longer."
"I miss you too," Austin said, kissing him back and running his hands up under Shay's shirt, and
down to knead the firm curve of his butt.
It was true, he did miss his Shay while he was away from home. He wished sometimes that Shay
wasn't Shay, that the Companion's appearance was something invented, something unique. Work
would still be work, but if Shay didn't look like the real Shay, and wasn't likely to be recognized
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277
walking around the neighborhood, then they could go out together -- to Social, to displays and
performances, out for meals.
Austin understood why someone might want a custom Companion, despite the huge surcharge
added to the already outrageous cost of even a basic model. He'd actually thought about moving to
another neighborhood, or to another city even; if he didn't live near Shay, there'd be less of a chance
of someone recognizing that he was socializing with a Synthetic Companion.
He broke off the kiss and rested his forehead against Shay's. "I wish I knew who sent you, and
why."
Shay tensed just for a moment, betraying his discomfort at the question. "I'm sorry, Austin. I'd
tell you if I could."
"I know, sorry. You haven't done anything wrong. No one's done anything wrong, at least that I
can tell." He hugged Shay tighter and added, "I keep thinking that someone will come and take you
back, say it was just a loan, or that there was... I don't know, something behind it. It might still be a
joke or a prank. I can't think who might be playing a joke, or trying to embarrass me. I don't think
I've offended anyone, or not enough to spend this kind of money on revenge. But I've asked a few
people -- subtly, you know? just bringing up the subject from the side -- and no one knows anything,
no one's given me a gift. Or no one's admitting it."
He ran a hand through Shay's silky hair, running his fingertips over the smooth surface of his
skull; only the activation button, a regular bump under the scalp, reminded him that Shay had been
created rather than born. "I was confused and upset at first, but I like having you. Having you here.
I don't want to lose you. And if it's a prank or some kind of revenge, then after it's over even the
memory will be poisoned."
Shay wrapped both arms around Austin and hugged him back. "Don't," he said, dotting kisses
across Austin's face. "Don't worry, please. It's not a prank. I shouldn't say, but I can't let you think
it's anything bad. It's not. It's someone who wants you to be happy. Please don't worry about it?"
Austin put on a small smile and said, "I'll try." All Shay knew was what he'd been told, though.
Or what he'd been told to say.
Shay gave him one more kiss, then took his hand and pulled him over to the table. "I made some
of those garlic-peanut chips you like -- I thought we could play Eon?"
"That'd be fun," Austin said. He sat down at the table and set it for the game, bringing up the
holographic terrain and characters they'd saved from their last session.
He couldn't do anything about his worries that night. Actually, he couldn't think of anything he
could do about them at all, since talking to friends hadn't brought him any answers, and the
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delivery service wouldn't give him any information unless he made a formal protest. All he had
were dead ends, and scraping his fingers raw clawing at the walls wouldn't gain him anything. All
he could do was keep going and let whatever was going to come, come.
Playing for a while before taking Shay to bed would help keep his mind out of the spin cycle.
Next Freeday, Austin wanted to just stay at home with Shay, but he'd promised a couple of
friends from the Fiveday gatherings that he'd go with them to a freedance performance. Austin had
never been able to get used to zero gravity himself -- whenever he tried to move in it, his stomach
started churning and wouldn't stop -- but he loved watching the dancers zoom and swirl through
the spherical arena so long as he himself was safely stuck to a comfortable lounge inside the outer
shell.
At the time he'd accepted the invitation, he'd been nervous that Shay -- the real one -- might end
up with their group. That'd been a couple of weeks ago, though, and when he'd left to meet the
others at the arena, he realized he wasn't nervous at all. It didn't matter whether Shay was there or
not; if so, he'd say hello and they could watch the performance together, and if not then that was
fine too.
And it turned out Shay wasn't there anyway. Austin actually missed him a bit, because the real
Shay was a nice guy, aside from being gorgeous.
When Austin got back to his unit, he was humming a bit of the performance music and
remembering the flashing holos and swirling bubbles and the dancers twisting through it all, so it
took him a few moments to notice that Shay was quieter than usual.
Maybe he was depressed because he could never go out? Could Synthetic Companions even get
depressed?
Austin pulled Shay into a hug and a deep kiss, then said, "I wish you could've gone! It was
wonderful. There'll be a vid up soon -- we'll watch it together."
"Thanks, I'd enjoy that." Shay hugged him back, tentatively at first, then his grip tightened and
he returned the kiss. "Are you hungry?"
"No, we ate at the arena. I need you. I feel like the music is still flowing in my veins and I need to
move." Austin laughed and took Shay by the wrist, coaxing him to bed. It'd never taken any coaxing
before, but Shay was probably just getting tired of the same thing over and over -- the same walls
and the same company and the same activities.
Austin would have to come up with something they could do, somewhere they could go together
-- maybe that trip to another city he'd thought about before, a visit rather than a move. Fujiwara
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Under was famous for its musical presentations; it was a favorite place for on-planet travellers, and
drew visitors from offworld to Shatterlee as well. Beveral Dome was near the sulfur forests, and
they had day tours out to see the beautiful, poisonous landscape. That'd be fun and different, and
from inside an egress suit, no one would recognize Shay even if anyone there knew him, or had
another Companion in the same model.
That was for later, though -- maybe next month. Right then, Austin was bubbling with energy
and was determined to share it with Shay.
He stripped down and stuffed his clothes into the bin, then helped Shay get naked. Austin kissed
and licked each patch of skin as it was uncovered, teasing flank and navel and tightening balls with
his lips and tongue. When Austin's tongue swirled behind Shay's balls and headed for his clenched
opening, Shay gave a surprised yelp and grabbed for Austin's hair with both hands.
Austin laughed and sat back. "What's the matter? Too much?" He gave the top of Shay's
thickening cock a playful swipe.
"No, no! It's fine, it's wonderful, keep going!" Shay managed a smile, but he looked a little dazed.
Dazed was good. Dazed was just fine. Austin had been feeling great -- happy and relaxed and
just generally positive about life and the world -- over the previous week or so. It'd started shortly
after Shay had arrived. It'd been confusing and disturbing at first, but once he'd gotten used to
having him around, Austin realized that he'd missed the companionship. He hadn't had a regular
lover in years, and had never shared a unit with one.
Austin could feel the changes in himself, and they were all good. He'd never been quite as
energetic in bed before -- he'd usually let Shay take the lead. If that surprised Shay, well, that was
probably normal. Austin ducked back down and sucked one of Shay's balls into his mouth,
determined to surprise him even more.
***
Much later, when they were both exhausted and sweaty and just catching their breaths, Austin
was stretched out with Shay's head on his chest, enjoying the lassitude and the memory-images
lingering in his mind.
Shay had been almost passive that night, willing to let Austin take the lead. Maybe that was part
of their programming, to adapt to their partner and be the complement of whatever role he took?
There was probably something about it in the files he hadn't seen yet. After so long, he probably
wouldn't; everything was going fine, and if he had any questions, he could ask Shay. Austin was
sleepy and relaxed, and would rather just lie there cuddling. He ran one slow hand through Shay's
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soft, slightly-sweaty hair, petting him just for the joy of touching, feeling the silky strands of hair
over the smooth curve of his skull....
The realization nearly jolted Austin out of bed. He shoved Shay away and scrambled off the
mattress and ended up with a thud against the wall; his eyes wide open in shock. A small chunk of
his brain noted with a hysterical laugh that he was in exactly the same position he'd been in when
he'd first found the "cadaver" in the box, but the rest of his brain didn't think it was funny at all.
"What happened? What are you? Who--?" But even as he shouted out the questions, the answer
was obvious. Shay. The real Shay. It had to be him.
"Shay. How did you get in here?"
The real Shay was still in Austin's bed, half curled up as though ashamed -- and he should be!
thought Austin -- with the cover pulled up to his chest. "I-- the Companion let me in. While you
were gone."
"He let you--?" But that question spawned another one, a more important one. "Where is he?
What did you do with him?" Austin took a step forward, clenched fists not quite threatening, not
yet, but it occurred to him that he might not own Shay-the-Companion, legally. Real-Shay had sent
the Companion to Austin without request; that made it a gift, didn't it? But if Real-Shay had already
taken the Companion-Shay, Austin's Shay, away somewhere, then it could be difficult or impossible
to get him back, to argue the legal microfonts while Austin's Shay was hidden away somewhere,
maybe sent to be recycled already--
Austin squashed the panic swirling through his mind. Focus on one thing at a time, he thought.
Right now.
The Shay huddled on Austin's bed was answering the question. Austin had missed the first few
words, but he caught "storage," and that was enough. He left the room at a half-run, only noticing
when he felt a draft in the main room that he was still naked.
It didn't matter. He went up to the storage room next to the bath, the only one large enough for
something man-sized, and yanked open the door.
Shay -- his Shay -- was seated on the floor, surrounded by shelves and bins and loose items, in
the dark and the dust. Austin grabbed him under the arms and yanked him to his feet, then
smothered him in a hug.
"I thought you were gone," he whispered.
"I thought you wouldn't want me," his Shay whispered back. One hand rested on Austin's back,
light and tentative, then the other came up next to it and clasped his shoulder. "Once you had the
real one, I didn't think you'd want me anymore."
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"I don't have the real one."
"You could," said another voice from the doorway. The human Shay, also still naked, stood there
watching the two of them, looking upset and embarrassed. "That was the whole point of it. I'm
sorry if it was a bad idea, but I've been wanting to get to know you for a long time and I could never
manage it. You seemed to get rather... awkward, whenever I tried to talk to you." Shay looked away
and raked a hand through his hair -- that same fine, honey-blond hair Austin had come to love the
feel of.
"You seemed so uncomfortable, it made me uncomfortable, and I'm not usually shy. I was when I
was near you, though, because I wanted to know you and it was important and I was afraid I'd do
something wrong and ruin the whole thing. I thought if you could get used to being near me, get
used to talking to me and having me around and lose all the awkwardness...."
He trailed off and grimaced. "I suppose it was a stupid idea. It was all I could think of, though.
When I got my token for a free Companion -- if they choose you to model, you get one as part of
your compensation -- the idea just came to me and it seemed perfect. The idea hit me and I did it. I
suppose I should've stopped to think about it."
"That might've been a good idea." Austin was trying to figure out what he thought about Shay's
confused confession. The thought that the man he'd been pining over for all that time had liked him
back, enough to come up with any kind of plan to get close to him, was flattering. The way he'd
done it, though -- Austin's reflexive reaction had been anger, was still anger. Deception on a grand
scale didn't lay down a very solid foundation for a friendship, much less a closer relationship.
The fact that real-Shay had made such a huge mistake, though, made him seem more like a
normal human who did stupid things occasionally, and less like an unapproachable ideal. After all
that, Austin had no problem talking to him, yelling at him, being upset with him. If they had a
chance of working things out, maybe it was because of Shay's ridiculous plan?
Austin looked at his Shay, trying to find an opinion, a preference, in his bright green eyes. His
Companion's expression was neutral at first, but the longer Austin looked, the more he thought he
could see signs of sadness and resignation. Austin kissed him, with no hurry, clasped an arm
around his shoulders, then looked at the human Shay and said, "I'm still angry. I think if we try to
talk it out right now, I'll end up throwing you out and that'll be the end of it. I'd like to have some
time to cool down and think about it, about everything."
Shay nodded, but before he could reply, Austin went on with, "Come and have dinner here next
Freeday. We can meet like normal people and get to know one another. All three of us." He
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squeezed his Shay's shoulder again. "If it does work out, it'll be the three of us. I'm keeping my
Shay, no matter what else happens."
Human Shay blinked at him, then looked at the Companion in Austin's embrace, then back at
Austin. "Umm. All right. I mean, that won't bother me, if that's what you want."
Austin nodded. "Good. So long as you understand."
Shay nodded back. They looked at one another in silence for a few moments, then Shay looked
away and said, "I suppose I should get home, then."
Austin nodded again. All the nodding made him feel like a puka-bird in a flock, but he didn't
know what else to say. There wasn't anything, really, not just then.
He and his Shay -- and he'd probably have to rename him after all; Austin would need to think
about that soon -- went out to the couch. Shay sat, but Austin stayed standing, hovering, waiting for
the human Shay to come out. When he emerged from the bedroom, dressed in clothes creased from
being pulled off in a hurry and then stepped on, all Austin could think about was that he'd been
tricked into making love with a man he'd never really spoken to.
That wasn't something he could forgive immediately. Maybe later. He thought probably later, if
Shay turned out to be a nice guy despite one horribly stupid idea, but it'd take some time.
They touched hands at the door, but didn't say anything, and then the human Shay was gone.
Austin settled down on the couch as close to Shay -- his Shay -- as he could get, and pulled him
into a tight embrace.
day it might become a real boy - a la Pinocchio or something. :P
Thank you Santa and Merry Christmas! I'll leave you lots of
yummy cookies for when you come.
P.S. I would prefer a darker haired/green eyed model (or two).
Thanks again!
***************************
Austin stepped off the slidewalk, palmed open the door to his unit and stepped inside, out of the
community space and into his own private space where he didn't have to pretend to be perfectly
happy and well-adjusted anymore. He'd just spent the prescribed two hours at yet another horribly
embarassing Mixer Social, trying to avoid one man in a small group of twenty-three. The Fountain
Four Neighborhood Social Center was spacious, but the Fiveday Mixer Social was for unattached
men in the neighborhood who tended toward other men, and there just weren't that many of them.
He'd hardly had time to sigh out his relief at having that over with, and start dreading the next
week's Social, when his door buzzed. A box appeared through the delivery panel and slid to a stop
on the smooth tile floor.
A really big box. Fairly huge, actually, like the size of a piece of furniture, taking up most of the
width in his tiny entry hall. Austin was sure he hadn't ordered anything anywhere near that size
recently -- not in a year or more, at least.
He checked the delivery stamp, sure it must be a mistake, but that was his name and his unit
code. It wasn't a mistake, or if it was it'd been made somewhere deeper in the system than a
delivery glitch.
An angelic looking young man
with white blonde hair and
pale blue eyes lies naked in a
very large cardboard box. He
is surrounded by styrofoam
packing peanuts and has
seams at his wrists, shoulders
and hips as if it he is an
assembled doll.
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Austin scooted around to the other side of the box -- the crate, because it was really big -- and
layed his palm on the access patch. He heard a rrrrrip-click and the lid separated from the sides,
then swung upward.
The inside cavity was filled with fluff-foam packing bits. Austin pushed his hands in and dug
down, hunting blindly for whatever might be buried deeper in. More bits, more bits...
...he jerked back with a yelp and smacked into the wall, his eyes wide with shock.
He'd touched something that felt like an arm -- a dead arm, a chunk of a cadaver. Smooth skin
with some give to it, what felt like perfectly relaxed muscle underneath, a scattering of soft hairs,
and it'd been cool, the same late-evening temperature he'd just walked through on his way home.
That couldn't be right. If someone was dead, whether of sickness or accident or murder, Austin
couldn't imagine why anyone would send him the corpse in a crate.
He stared into the box at the packing bits for a minute, then very slowly reached out with one
hand and started brushing them away, a few at a time, so he wouldn't touch anything he didn't want
to touch, at least not accidentally.
Strands of wispy blond hair appeared, then a smooth forehead, and Austin swallowed hard.
All right, he thought, straighten up. It can't possibly be a dead body. Even assuming anyone
would send you a cadaver, they don't look like that. Dead bodies look all blotchy and shiny. This
one looks more like it's asleep. He. It's male -- it looks like he's asleep.
Which was another impossible idea. Why would some strange man have himself packed into a
box and sent to Austin, asleep or not?
"This is stupid," he muttered to himself. "Just do it."
Austin leaned over and jammed his hands down into the box, grabbed the guy under the arms
and heaved.
A limp -- and naked, don't forget the naked part -- body came surging up into Austin's arms, and
if the crate hadn't been pretty sturdy, the whole thing, box and guy and Austin himself, would've
overturned and crashed to the floor. As it was, Austin ended up with both arms wrapped around
the man's naked chest.
It was still cool. There was no movement, neither the slow rhythm of breathing or the faster
tempo of a heartbeat.
It almost seemed....
Austin propped the guy's shoulders against his own chest to free up one hand, and sent it
searching down first one arm, then the other. There, the left hand had a smooth, twisted cord
around it, with an info tag dangling. He squeezed the tag, and a mellow, androgynous voice said,
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"Congratulations on your acquisition of a first quality BioServ Synthetic Companion, model 218C-S.
Please view the introduction before attempting activation."
Synthetic Companion. Austin nearly fainted in relief; it was a sex doll. A really good sex doll --
it'd probably cost more than Austin earned in several years -- but it wasn't an actual dead body and
that was the important thing.
Of course it wasn't a dead body. Austin heaved out a sigh and gave a quick, reflexive glance
around, as though there might be someone lurking in his unit waiting to laugh at how ridiculous
he'd been.
Well, yes, once he knew the answer, his irrational imaginings did seem pretty stupid.
The doll was as heavy as a grown man would've been, and Austin's arms were getting tired. One
more good heave and he had the thing out of the box and layed down on the floor...
...and for the second time that night, he yelped and jerked backward into the wall.
The doll, it's face -- it looked exactly like Shay. The same bright green eyes, with clear, light
brown skin and honey-blond hair. Broad shoulders, nimble-looking hands, and it looked to be
about the right height, although it was hard to tell with the doll lying down.
Five minutes of trying to work out exactly who would send Austin a Synthetic Companion with
the face of the man he'd been making a fool of himself over for months got him nothing but a
headache. He took the info tag, left the doll on the floor, and went over to the media unit.
The tag was just the usual bundle of files about operation and maintenance. He scanned until he
found the vid about the on switch, then stashed the rest to watch later if he needed to. There was
also a clicker for a continuously updated offering of upgrades and accessories. Just looking at some
of them made Austin wince and imagine he could hear his credit balance howling in pain; he'd stick
with the standard model.
That thought made him lean back against the lounge cushions and consider.
Should I keep it? he wondered. What if it's a joke? Someone trying to embarass me? Not that I
need much help, the way my brain turns inside-out whenever I'm at Social and Shay's in the room....
It was ridiculously expensive for a joke, though. He didn't know how much any of his friends or
neighbors earned, of course; questions about employment or finances in a social context was
horribly rude, and while Austin wasn't a stickler, he wasn't raised in a sewer, either. Fountain Four
was a comfortable but not a wealthy neighborhood, and he couldn't imagine anyone he knew being
able to afford a Synthetic Companion for themself, or even as a serious gift, much less as a joke.
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There was no name on the shipping stamp, but Austin tried querying the shipper anyway. As
he'd expected, it came back as an anonymous send. The CS responder asked if he wanted to reject
the shipment, or register a protest; Austin declined and closed the query.
Only one thing left. Austin still felt kind of shy about activating the thing, even knowing that was
ridiculous. It wasn't a person -- it was a sophisticated thing, an appliance. It didn't make any sense
to feel shy or embarassed around it, any more than he'd feel ashamed to go naked in front of his
cooker.
Fine. Just do it, then.
He knelt down next to the not-really-a-naked-man in his entry and lifted the head, gently, with
one hand. With the other, he felt through the hair at the back of the skull until he came to a small,
regular bump. He pressed it, and the thing's eyes blinked open.
Even having expected it, Austin still startled enough that he almost dropped its head onto the
floor. It sat up and looked around; Austin scooted back a little and watched the thing working.
It looked human.
Well, of course it did; it was the most expensive human simulation current technology could
product. Not an android -- they weren't quite up to creating a purely synthetic human being yet,
but as close as anyone could get coming from a robotics-and-AI direction.
The doll took a quick glance around, then sat up and turned to face Austin with a friendly smile.
"Hello. You're Austin Green?"
Austin just stared for a second, not used to having things that looked like people talking to him,
before he finally said, "Yes, that's me."
"Great! I belong to you now, and I'm sure we'll have a lot of good times together. My name is
Shay."
Austin felt his throat clench, and he had to cough a couple of times. Although once he thought
about it, he wasn't sure why he was surprised; it did look exactly like the Shay he knew, after all.
That couldn't be a coincidence, so why wouldn't they -- whoever "they" were -- give it Shay's name?
"Ahh, good. That's... that's fine."
The doll studied his face, then said, "You can change my name if you want to. Just say 'Shay, I
rename you' and the new name. You can change it as many times as you want, until you find
something you like."
"Umm, no, that's all right, it's fine." Austin shook his head and stood up, trying to figure out what
to do next. The doll -- Shay, he needed to start thinking of it as Shay if he wasn't going to change the
name, which wouldn't work because it'd still have Shay's face and calling something with Shay's
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face something else would be weirder than Austin wanted to deal with. The situation was already
weird and adding to it felt like a really bad idea.
Shay-the-doll stood up, and seeing it full-length, standing there in front of him, made Austin very
much aware that it was naked. Completely naked.
Next thing to do was get some clothes for the-- for Shay. Austin slipped past the naked body
standing in his entry and headed back toward his bedroom. "Come on," he said. "I'll find you
something to wear. My clothes should fit you well enough, I think, at least for now."
He heard Shay following him. It walked as quietly as any barefoot human. He'd half expected it
to clunk along. Machines were supposed to clunk. Or whir or rumble, something like that.
Shay padded along quietly, his bare soles making a light, nearly inaudible scuffing sound against
the smooth floor, so quiet that when he walked up behind Austin, who was digging in a wall bin for
a pair of shorts, Austin had no idea he was that close until a pair of warm arms wrapped around
him from behind, and a solid chest pressed up against his back.
"I appreciate the thought," said Shay, "but are you sure you want me to get dressed right now?
I'll just have to take it all off soon anyway."
Austin closed his eyes and leaned back into the embrace. It felt wonderful -- strong and solid,
the skin smooth but not plastic-smooth, just yielding enough with a firmness to suggest healthy
muscle underneath. It even smelled right, warm and a little musky.
He let go of the garments he'd been sorting through and wrapped his arms over the arms
crossed at his waist. He gave them a firm squeeze, then let go and rotated in Shay's arms--
--and found himself staring into bright green eyes that were unmistakeably Shay's, in Shay's face,
with his mouth and chin and that one quirky eyebrow, and a sudden rush of shy/awkward/shame
flooded Austin. He looked away and pulled himself out of Shay's arms, taking five quick steps
across the room.
"No. I mean, yes -- find yourself something, shorts and a top, whatever you want, just get
dressed. Please. Something you wouldn't mind sleeping in is fine, but.... Please."
He stood there against the wall, his forehead pressing against the cool surface, wishing he
weren't such an idiot. It was just a doll, a thing, a fancy robot. It was ridiculous to be embarassed
by it, or in front of it, but Austin couldn't help it. He knew it wasn't really Shay, but his gut didn't
believe it, and didn't care what his brain said.
And now the thing was going to be living with him. Not living, but... whatever you wanted to call
it. It was his and would be in his unit with him, for however long he had it.
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The thought was horrifying in a way. Bad enough he had to struggle with his awkwardness at
Fiveday Social every week; that was only for two hours. This thing that was an exact copy of Shay,
that twisted his guts and his tongue in exactly the same way, was going to be in his home, all the
time.
Austin stifled a groan and rubbed his forehead with his palm. What now? Sending it back would
be more complicated now, and he'd have to justify the rejection after having specifically accepted
the delivery and passed by the opportunity to protest. He could sell it, but for something as
expensive as a Synthetic Companion, that'd take time. And since he didn't know who'd sent it to
him or why, he had no idea how that person would react to his immediately getting rid of it. What if
it was a friend? Someone who'd be hurt or angry if he sold their gift?
Well, it'd have to be a friend, wouldn't it? Someone who barely knew your name didn't spend
that much on a gift. Maybe someone who knew he was stuck on Shay and thought he'd enjoy having
a doll that looked like him? Austin was sure whoever'd sent the thing had meant well, and thought
they were helping him out, doing him a favor. He didn't feel very grateful, though, right at that
point.
"What's wrong?"
The voice was closer than it should've been; the doll had come closer while Austin's brain was
spinning, trying to figure out what to do.
"Nothing. I mean, nothing you can help with." Austin glanced up at the concerned face -- Shay's
concerned face, even if it wasn't the real Shay wearing it -- then looked away again and added, more
quietly, "Your appearance is disturbing."
The was a silent moment. "You don't care for my appearance?"
Shay sounded almost hurt. Austin knew AIs could replicate emotions perfectly, but he wasn't
sure whether they actually felt things. Some people said yes and others no, and he didn't know
what to believe. The one in front of him sounded a little deflated, though.
"I don't... dislike your appearance," he said, still not looking at it. "You're very attractive."
"I'm a popular model. I realize you didn't choose me, but many people do."
That got Austin to look up. "There are more of you? I mean, not just your... your baseline system
or something like that, but other dolls look like you? Your face and all?"
"Yes, there are many other Companions like me. Did you think I was a custom order? I
understand how that could be disappointing."
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"No! I mean...." Austin trailed off. He hadn't really thought about it, but it hadn't occurred to
him that there might be a whole line of dolls that looked like Shay. He'd never seen any, but then,
how many people took their Synthetic Companions out with them?
Although once he thought about it, another glance at not-Shay confirmed that any number of
people might well take their Companions out and Austin would never have noticed.
"Austin?" The doll took a step closer, but only one. "I'm sorry about my appearance. I'd change
it for you if I could." He sounded honestly distressed at being unable to help. "If you want, you can
just have me sit or lie down somewhere out of the way, and turn me off. The kill switch is the same
as the power switch -- push it four times within five seconds and I'll just be another thing in a
corner you can ignore."
A corpse, thought Austin. That'd been what he'd originally thought, and if he powered Shay
down -- used the kill switch -- he'd look like one again.
He shuddered and shook his head. "No, it's fine. You can stay... active."
Shay touched Austin's shoulder for just a second and said, "Thank you. I really don't like being
turned off."
"No, I don't guess you would." It was probably like sleeping without dreams, but not knowing
whether you'd wake up. Or maybe not? "Do you dream? When you're turned off?"
"No, I don't."
Austin nodded, then moved away, toward the laundry bin. He was tired, and the whole day had
been stressful. Staying up talking to his new Companion didn't sound like a relaxing idea. It'd
probably take him a while to get to sleep anyway, so he stripped off -- trying without success to
prevent himself from blushing -- and stuffed his worn clothes into the bin for cleaning.
He sat down on the side of the bed and looked over at Shay, trying to think what to have him do
all night, only to find that Shay had discarded the shorts he'd had on for only a few minutes and was
sitting on the bed as well, on the opposite side.
Well, right, he was a fancy sex doll. Of course he'd assume his place was in bed with his owner.
Austin sighed and said, "I don't want to... I mean, I just... I'm tired. I'm sorry, but I just want to sleep
right now."
Shay nodded, slipped under the cover, and closed his eyes.
He wasn't taking up much of the bed, nor trying to be enticing or anything. Austin wasn't up to
an argument, or even the ridiculously embarassing command and explanation it would probably be,
since the Companion wouldn't argue with him. He just got into bed, careful to stay on his own side,
and touched the light control. The room went dark; time to try to sleep.
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***
Austin drifted out of a wonderful dream, moaning and sweating and tense in all the right ways.
While sleeping, he'd imagined that his shyness had vanished, his shameful awkwardness had never
existed, and he'd approached Shay at Social with confidence, making him laugh, showing him how
much fun they could have together. They'd talked and danced and then gone home to Austin's unit
where they'd fallen into bed in a tangle of arms and legs, touching and kissing and sharing pleasure
and joy.
The pleasure surged and overflowed and Austin woke up with a loud, ecstatic cry, all helpless
vowels, his hips thrusting up and his cock spilling into warm, tight suction. He recognized the
angles of his bedroom while the walls were spinning down and the lights flashing in front of his
eyes were fading back into the dark. His cock relaxed and a moment later his brain once more had
enough blood to fully function.
Of course he remembered the sex doll that looked like Shay. He'd remembered it while
climaxing, but at that time it hadn't seemed important. Or maybe that was just one of the things his
brain hadn't had enough blood to deal with.
As soon as his heartbeat slowed to normal and he could breathe without gasping, though, he was
well aware of what'd just happened. At first he wanted to be angry, but being angry with a sex doll
was like getting angry with a dildo or a knife or a chair. It was just a way of displacing your anger at
yourself, and it made you look like an idiot.
Austin shoved the cover aside and looked down at the messy, honey-gold hair still spread across
his belly. The doll, the Companion -- Shay -- looked up at him with a smile that was both sweet and
mischievous.
"Did you like that?" Shay crawled up Austin's body and settled down half on top of him, his head
on Austin's outstretched arm and one hand on Austin's chest.
Austin managed a wry smile and said, "If you have to ask then your AI isn't as advanced as I
thought it was."
Shay laughed, a warm, rich sound that faded into a muffled snicker. "I thought you probably did,
but it seemed polite to ask."
"I'm glad to hear you're polite." Austin turned and pressed a kiss into Shay's hair without
thinking about it, and at the same time noticed what was pressing against his thigh. He reached
down and stroked the hard cock and said, "I should probably be polite in return."
Shay's smile got wider and he rolled a quarter-turn onto his back. "I'd like that. Being polite to
one another is probably the best way to get along."
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"Likely so." Austin stroked harder, adding a rub across the head at random intervals, and shifted
over so he could kiss Shay while pleasuring him. With the first orgasm past, it seemed ridiculous to
keep worrying about should he or shouldn't he. It was a sex toy. He had other sex toys and he
didn't feel any embarassment over using any of them whenever he felt the urge. He felt a strong
urge to use the handsome, sexy toy in his bed; he'd worry about who'd sent it and why later.
***
Over the next week, Austin was a little surprised at how easily he became accustomed to having
Shay around. It was exactly like living with another human. He'd never shared a unit with anyone
who wasn't family, but the blending of routines and sharing of tasks felt the same. Although he
knew it wasn't necessary, he found himself on his best behavior, being a little neater than usual,
more likely to stay in line with habits and routines. It was exactly like the impression he'd gotten
from friends and co-workers who'd shared units with friends of their own or with lovers, and
Austin expected he'd relax eventually. But no matter how often he told himself that Shay wouldn't
care if Austin left his worn clothes on the floor over night, he still felt embarassed at the thought of
someone else -- even an artificial someone -- seeing him be sloppy.
The following Fiveday, Austin went to Social feeling a bit odd, but over all more relaxed than he
had in a long time. He was able to smile at Shay -- the real one -- and even speak to him for a few
moments without feeling the overwhelming shyness that usually turned him into an idiot in the
man's presence. His brain knew that this wasn't the same Shay he'd lived with for the previous
week, but to his gut it felt the same, and frequent exposure had burned out most of the embarassed
brain-static that'd been so crippling before.
Whatever the purpose had been, whoever'd given him Shay-the-Companion had done him a
great favor.
When he got home later that evening, Shay was waiting. As soon as the door closed behind
Austin, Shay was pressed up against him, kissing him hard.
"I missed you," Shay said, in low, breathy words that brushed past Austin's ear. "You're gone so
long for work, and Social days are even longer."
"I miss you too," Austin said, kissing him back and running his hands up under Shay's shirt, and
down to knead the firm curve of his butt.
It was true, he did miss his Shay while he was away from home. He wished sometimes that Shay
wasn't Shay, that the Companion's appearance was something invented, something unique. Work
would still be work, but if Shay didn't look like the real Shay, and wasn't likely to be recognized
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walking around the neighborhood, then they could go out together -- to Social, to displays and
performances, out for meals.
Austin understood why someone might want a custom Companion, despite the huge surcharge
added to the already outrageous cost of even a basic model. He'd actually thought about moving to
another neighborhood, or to another city even; if he didn't live near Shay, there'd be less of a chance
of someone recognizing that he was socializing with a Synthetic Companion.
He broke off the kiss and rested his forehead against Shay's. "I wish I knew who sent you, and
why."
Shay tensed just for a moment, betraying his discomfort at the question. "I'm sorry, Austin. I'd
tell you if I could."
"I know, sorry. You haven't done anything wrong. No one's done anything wrong, at least that I
can tell." He hugged Shay tighter and added, "I keep thinking that someone will come and take you
back, say it was just a loan, or that there was... I don't know, something behind it. It might still be a
joke or a prank. I can't think who might be playing a joke, or trying to embarrass me. I don't think
I've offended anyone, or not enough to spend this kind of money on revenge. But I've asked a few
people -- subtly, you know? just bringing up the subject from the side -- and no one knows anything,
no one's given me a gift. Or no one's admitting it."
He ran a hand through Shay's silky hair, running his fingertips over the smooth surface of his
skull; only the activation button, a regular bump under the scalp, reminded him that Shay had been
created rather than born. "I was confused and upset at first, but I like having you. Having you here.
I don't want to lose you. And if it's a prank or some kind of revenge, then after it's over even the
memory will be poisoned."
Shay wrapped both arms around Austin and hugged him back. "Don't," he said, dotting kisses
across Austin's face. "Don't worry, please. It's not a prank. I shouldn't say, but I can't let you think
it's anything bad. It's not. It's someone who wants you to be happy. Please don't worry about it?"
Austin put on a small smile and said, "I'll try." All Shay knew was what he'd been told, though.
Or what he'd been told to say.
Shay gave him one more kiss, then took his hand and pulled him over to the table. "I made some
of those garlic-peanut chips you like -- I thought we could play Eon?"
"That'd be fun," Austin said. He sat down at the table and set it for the game, bringing up the
holographic terrain and characters they'd saved from their last session.
He couldn't do anything about his worries that night. Actually, he couldn't think of anything he
could do about them at all, since talking to friends hadn't brought him any answers, and the
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delivery service wouldn't give him any information unless he made a formal protest. All he had
were dead ends, and scraping his fingers raw clawing at the walls wouldn't gain him anything. All
he could do was keep going and let whatever was going to come, come.
Playing for a while before taking Shay to bed would help keep his mind out of the spin cycle.
Next Freeday, Austin wanted to just stay at home with Shay, but he'd promised a couple of
friends from the Fiveday gatherings that he'd go with them to a freedance performance. Austin had
never been able to get used to zero gravity himself -- whenever he tried to move in it, his stomach
started churning and wouldn't stop -- but he loved watching the dancers zoom and swirl through
the spherical arena so long as he himself was safely stuck to a comfortable lounge inside the outer
shell.
At the time he'd accepted the invitation, he'd been nervous that Shay -- the real one -- might end
up with their group. That'd been a couple of weeks ago, though, and when he'd left to meet the
others at the arena, he realized he wasn't nervous at all. It didn't matter whether Shay was there or
not; if so, he'd say hello and they could watch the performance together, and if not then that was
fine too.
And it turned out Shay wasn't there anyway. Austin actually missed him a bit, because the real
Shay was a nice guy, aside from being gorgeous.
When Austin got back to his unit, he was humming a bit of the performance music and
remembering the flashing holos and swirling bubbles and the dancers twisting through it all, so it
took him a few moments to notice that Shay was quieter than usual.
Maybe he was depressed because he could never go out? Could Synthetic Companions even get
depressed?
Austin pulled Shay into a hug and a deep kiss, then said, "I wish you could've gone! It was
wonderful. There'll be a vid up soon -- we'll watch it together."
"Thanks, I'd enjoy that." Shay hugged him back, tentatively at first, then his grip tightened and
he returned the kiss. "Are you hungry?"
"No, we ate at the arena. I need you. I feel like the music is still flowing in my veins and I need to
move." Austin laughed and took Shay by the wrist, coaxing him to bed. It'd never taken any coaxing
before, but Shay was probably just getting tired of the same thing over and over -- the same walls
and the same company and the same activities.
Austin would have to come up with something they could do, somewhere they could go together
-- maybe that trip to another city he'd thought about before, a visit rather than a move. Fujiwara
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Under was famous for its musical presentations; it was a favorite place for on-planet travellers, and
drew visitors from offworld to Shatterlee as well. Beveral Dome was near the sulfur forests, and
they had day tours out to see the beautiful, poisonous landscape. That'd be fun and different, and
from inside an egress suit, no one would recognize Shay even if anyone there knew him, or had
another Companion in the same model.
That was for later, though -- maybe next month. Right then, Austin was bubbling with energy
and was determined to share it with Shay.
He stripped down and stuffed his clothes into the bin, then helped Shay get naked. Austin kissed
and licked each patch of skin as it was uncovered, teasing flank and navel and tightening balls with
his lips and tongue. When Austin's tongue swirled behind Shay's balls and headed for his clenched
opening, Shay gave a surprised yelp and grabbed for Austin's hair with both hands.
Austin laughed and sat back. "What's the matter? Too much?" He gave the top of Shay's
thickening cock a playful swipe.
"No, no! It's fine, it's wonderful, keep going!" Shay managed a smile, but he looked a little dazed.
Dazed was good. Dazed was just fine. Austin had been feeling great -- happy and relaxed and
just generally positive about life and the world -- over the previous week or so. It'd started shortly
after Shay had arrived. It'd been confusing and disturbing at first, but once he'd gotten used to
having him around, Austin realized that he'd missed the companionship. He hadn't had a regular
lover in years, and had never shared a unit with one.
Austin could feel the changes in himself, and they were all good. He'd never been quite as
energetic in bed before -- he'd usually let Shay take the lead. If that surprised Shay, well, that was
probably normal. Austin ducked back down and sucked one of Shay's balls into his mouth,
determined to surprise him even more.
***
Much later, when they were both exhausted and sweaty and just catching their breaths, Austin
was stretched out with Shay's head on his chest, enjoying the lassitude and the memory-images
lingering in his mind.
Shay had been almost passive that night, willing to let Austin take the lead. Maybe that was part
of their programming, to adapt to their partner and be the complement of whatever role he took?
There was probably something about it in the files he hadn't seen yet. After so long, he probably
wouldn't; everything was going fine, and if he had any questions, he could ask Shay. Austin was
sleepy and relaxed, and would rather just lie there cuddling. He ran one slow hand through Shay's
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soft, slightly-sweaty hair, petting him just for the joy of touching, feeling the silky strands of hair
over the smooth curve of his skull....
The realization nearly jolted Austin out of bed. He shoved Shay away and scrambled off the
mattress and ended up with a thud against the wall; his eyes wide open in shock. A small chunk of
his brain noted with a hysterical laugh that he was in exactly the same position he'd been in when
he'd first found the "cadaver" in the box, but the rest of his brain didn't think it was funny at all.
"What happened? What are you? Who--?" But even as he shouted out the questions, the answer
was obvious. Shay. The real Shay. It had to be him.
"Shay. How did you get in here?"
The real Shay was still in Austin's bed, half curled up as though ashamed -- and he should be!
thought Austin -- with the cover pulled up to his chest. "I-- the Companion let me in. While you
were gone."
"He let you--?" But that question spawned another one, a more important one. "Where is he?
What did you do with him?" Austin took a step forward, clenched fists not quite threatening, not
yet, but it occurred to him that he might not own Shay-the-Companion, legally. Real-Shay had sent
the Companion to Austin without request; that made it a gift, didn't it? But if Real-Shay had already
taken the Companion-Shay, Austin's Shay, away somewhere, then it could be difficult or impossible
to get him back, to argue the legal microfonts while Austin's Shay was hidden away somewhere,
maybe sent to be recycled already--
Austin squashed the panic swirling through his mind. Focus on one thing at a time, he thought.
Right now.
The Shay huddled on Austin's bed was answering the question. Austin had missed the first few
words, but he caught "storage," and that was enough. He left the room at a half-run, only noticing
when he felt a draft in the main room that he was still naked.
It didn't matter. He went up to the storage room next to the bath, the only one large enough for
something man-sized, and yanked open the door.
Shay -- his Shay -- was seated on the floor, surrounded by shelves and bins and loose items, in
the dark and the dust. Austin grabbed him under the arms and yanked him to his feet, then
smothered him in a hug.
"I thought you were gone," he whispered.
"I thought you wouldn't want me," his Shay whispered back. One hand rested on Austin's back,
light and tentative, then the other came up next to it and clasped his shoulder. "Once you had the
real one, I didn't think you'd want me anymore."
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"I don't have the real one."
"You could," said another voice from the doorway. The human Shay, also still naked, stood there
watching the two of them, looking upset and embarrassed. "That was the whole point of it. I'm
sorry if it was a bad idea, but I've been wanting to get to know you for a long time and I could never
manage it. You seemed to get rather... awkward, whenever I tried to talk to you." Shay looked away
and raked a hand through his hair -- that same fine, honey-blond hair Austin had come to love the
feel of.
"You seemed so uncomfortable, it made me uncomfortable, and I'm not usually shy. I was when I
was near you, though, because I wanted to know you and it was important and I was afraid I'd do
something wrong and ruin the whole thing. I thought if you could get used to being near me, get
used to talking to me and having me around and lose all the awkwardness...."
He trailed off and grimaced. "I suppose it was a stupid idea. It was all I could think of, though.
When I got my token for a free Companion -- if they choose you to model, you get one as part of
your compensation -- the idea just came to me and it seemed perfect. The idea hit me and I did it. I
suppose I should've stopped to think about it."
"That might've been a good idea." Austin was trying to figure out what he thought about Shay's
confused confession. The thought that the man he'd been pining over for all that time had liked him
back, enough to come up with any kind of plan to get close to him, was flattering. The way he'd
done it, though -- Austin's reflexive reaction had been anger, was still anger. Deception on a grand
scale didn't lay down a very solid foundation for a friendship, much less a closer relationship.
The fact that real-Shay had made such a huge mistake, though, made him seem more like a
normal human who did stupid things occasionally, and less like an unapproachable ideal. After all
that, Austin had no problem talking to him, yelling at him, being upset with him. If they had a
chance of working things out, maybe it was because of Shay's ridiculous plan?
Austin looked at his Shay, trying to find an opinion, a preference, in his bright green eyes. His
Companion's expression was neutral at first, but the longer Austin looked, the more he thought he
could see signs of sadness and resignation. Austin kissed him, with no hurry, clasped an arm
around his shoulders, then looked at the human Shay and said, "I'm still angry. I think if we try to
talk it out right now, I'll end up throwing you out and that'll be the end of it. I'd like to have some
time to cool down and think about it, about everything."
Shay nodded, but before he could reply, Austin went on with, "Come and have dinner here next
Freeday. We can meet like normal people and get to know one another. All three of us." He
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squeezed his Shay's shoulder again. "If it does work out, it'll be the three of us. I'm keeping my
Shay, no matter what else happens."
Human Shay blinked at him, then looked at the Companion in Austin's embrace, then back at
Austin. "Umm. All right. I mean, that won't bother me, if that's what you want."
Austin nodded. "Good. So long as you understand."
Shay nodded back. They looked at one another in silence for a few moments, then Shay looked
away and said, "I suppose I should get home, then."
Austin nodded again. All the nodding made him feel like a puka-bird in a flock, but he didn't
know what else to say. There wasn't anything, really, not just then.
He and his Shay -- and he'd probably have to rename him after all; Austin would need to think
about that soon -- went out to the couch. Shay sat, but Austin stayed standing, hovering, waiting for
the human Shay to come out. When he emerged from the bedroom, dressed in clothes creased from
being pulled off in a hurry and then stepped on, all Austin could think about was that he'd been
tricked into making love with a man he'd never really spoken to.
That wasn't something he could forgive immediately. Maybe later. He thought probably later, if
Shay turned out to be a nice guy despite one horribly stupid idea, but it'd take some time.
They touched hands at the door, but didn't say anything, and then the human Shay was gone.
Austin settled down on the couch as close to Shay -- his Shay -- as he could get, and pulled him
into a tight embrace.
COCKLEBUR’S CHRISTMAS by Amy Lane: full line story
Green, Lord of Green’s Hill in the Sierra Foothills of Auburn loved Corinne Carol-Anne
Kirkpatrick op Crocken Green very much—but that didn’t mean he was looking forward to
spending the evening with her when she’d been left behind from a potentially dangerous mission.
“Don’t mope, beloved,” he said mildly, watching her trying to make her slightly widening bottom
comfortable on the opposite end of the couch. Her body was changing, and the twin hearts in her
belly were growing day by day.
The glare she shot him was hardly a ‘mope’. “Don’t patronize me, Green,” she snapped. “I’m…”
Her eyes bulged, and he fought back a laugh. She was tired, her boobs hurt, her feet hurt, her back
hurt, her ‘cooter’ hurt (interesting term—he loathed it, but it did make him laugh), her stomach
hurt, she had heartburn, hemorrhoids, varicose veins and a headache. Yes—she had all the
symptoms of pregnancy, but she didn’t want to whine. Not his beloved. So, she felt like shit, didn’t
want to whine, and was even more pissed off because all of the things she didn’t want to whine
about were the reasons she didn’t get to go on the mission. For his beloved, who was usually more
vocal than discreet, this was a conundrum.
Her eyes were still bulging and her hands were flailing as she fought for words, and Green was
about to put her out of her misery and soothe her, when her body betrayed her.
Her stomach growled, and true to the many conflicting emotions in her heart, her body sent her
to the one she’d hate the most.
A young man with long
black hair sits on a tree
trunk in a golden field
facing away from the
camera; his hands are
cuffed behind his back.
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Her lower lip quivered and she sent him a look so full of misery it almost broke her heart.
“Aw,” she muttered, “goddammit, Green!”
He laughed gently, and put his arm out to her. She rushed to him and lay her head on his chest
and allowed him to run his hands through her wildly curly reddish hair.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know,” he said softly.
“I couldn’t go with them,” she muttered. “I couldn’t go with them. I always go with them. I
always… dammit, Green. I take care of them. And Bracken was so angry!”
Green grimaced. Yes, Bracken was angry. Thanks to an impromptu blood transfusion that
summer, and some magical consequences, Cory could feel his anger, literally in her blood.
“Of course he was angry,” he said softly. “You two have been working as a team for nearly two
years, beloved. How easy do you think it was for him to leave you here?”
“Well then he shouldn’t have… fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…” The litany continued. Her next
line would have been, “He shouldn’t have knocked me up!” but the worst part of her dilemma was
that she’d accidentally counteracted both Bracken and Green’s birth control. It was how she came to
be pregnant with sidhe twins, when her tiny mortal body would have been hard-pressed to carry
one child to full term.
“Jesus, Green!” she finally burst out with. “Isn’t there one goddamned blessed thing I can bitch
about that I didn’t bring on my own goddamned head?”
Green was forced to laugh. “Yes, beloved. You can bitch about being hungry. It’s my fault—I
should have fed you sooner. Here, let me get you something.”
“I’ll get it,” a voice said over Green’s shoulder, and Green turned slightly and smiled. “Thank you,
Cocklebur. That’s very kind of you.”
“Pie, guvnor?”
Green grimaced—first, because although Cocklebur had come over the pond around the same
time Green did, he insisted on referring to Green like a superior, and second, because Cory was
nodding enthusiastically for pie.
“There’s some chicken and vegetables in the refrigerator, if you don’t mind putting it on some
bread and heating it up,” Green said, looking sternly at Cory as he said it. Her face fell, but he could
tell by the way she rolled her eyes for form that she agreed. Pie would probably make her feel
worse, and something healthy would make her feel better. The simplest logic wasn’t always the
easiest to live with.
Cocklebur brought the food, and a bottle of water for Green, with a little flourish and a bow.
“Hereyago, Little Goddess,” he said to Cory. “You just sit back and be the queen of the manor, right?”
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Cory gave a passable impression of a smile. “Thanks, Cocklebur. That was nice of you. I could
have gotten it myself, you know.”
The elf’s expression twisted, and for a moment, he looked almost ugly, an impossibility for a
people known for their inhumanly perfect beauty. “You go ahead and be a lazy stropping cow, and
see if I give a shit!” he snapped, and then flounced off, leaving Cory even more miserable than she
had been before.
“Aw. Goddammit, Green—I didn’t mean…”
“Yes, I know. Hush. Here. Eat your food. Sleep. That’s just his way. He’ll apologize in a minute…”
“I know, I know, and everything will be better.” Cory tucked into her food and didn’t harp on the
obvious. With Cocklebur, that’s pretty much what you had to hope for—that someday, things would
be better.
“Would you like to know why that is?” Green asked, as she was eating. She looked at him with a
full mouth and nodded. She hadn’t wanted to admit it, but he could see she’d been starving. She did
too much in her day, he thought worriedly, but he didn’t say anything.
“I’ll tell you… better yet, take a nap on me while I work, and I’ll show you,” he coaxed, thinking
this could be the only way he would get her to rest for the rest of the pregnancy.
“Show me?” She swallowed, and then yawned. “I mean, you know, show me? Can you do that?”
“Absolutely,” Green told her. “Here. All done?” She nodded and he took the plate from her. With a
thought, he summoned tiny sprites to take the mess away and then pulled her head down on his lap
so he could smooth the hair from her face. “Now I don’t do this often, but if you’ll let me, I’ll let you
dream it. It will be like watching a movie in your sleep, yes? Except, you’ll get to feel it, too.”
Cory giggled. “Uhm, how much am I going to feel?” she asked drowsily. “I mean, uhm… Green.
You, uhm… you’ve slept with everyone at the hill. Is this dream going to be…”
“X rated?” Green grinned. “Damned straight, beloved. If you’re going to be napping instead of
shagging…”
“Sorry, Green…”
“No worries, luv. You just close your eyes and dream. It will be a little scary at first, but it will be
a lovely dream at the end, and maybe you’ll understand our bloke a little better at the end of it,
okay?”
She managed a little moan of comfort, as she pillowed her head on his thigh and fell asleep.
Green started the dream where all things started for the two of them.
***
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Adrian. Adrian had just been turned vampire, and they were walking along the beach in the bay.
His white-blond hair was shoulder length and curly, held back in a queue like Green’s longer,
butter-colored hair. His sky-spangled eyes were almost transparent in the thin moonlight, but his
insouciant, love-it-or-lay-it grin was fully in place as he played a puppy-like game of kicking a rock
through the surf.
It was back in 1850, and so much of what was industrialized and full of metal and oil now was
simply beach. Yes, some of it was putrid with the lack of plumbing, but some more of it was… beach.
Salt water. Salt water that broke all magic, good and bad. Oh, the purity of clean, abrasive, salt.
Green was barefoot, as all sidhe preferred to be, and he was enjoying the feeling of the sand
between his long toes. It was long ago, and simple things were more easily acknowledged for giving
the most joy.
They were far away from the busiest part of the harbor, and the ships were all sleeping in their
berths. There was a stand of eucalyptus trees before them, as the bay widened to open sea, and as
Adrian’s booted feet and Green’s bare ones splatted in the shallow layer of surf, there was a far
away scream.
They looked at each other, apprehensively. Green was not a power at this point—he had no
people, and no ambitions for them. But that scream had sounded desperate, and in pain, and the
two of them had strengths that other people did not. Adrian was not adept at vampire’s flight at this
point, but that didn’t stop him from giving a grunt and a leap into a shaky course through the air,
even while Green began to move with that burst of Goddess speed that humans always thought of
as magic.
By the time Green got there, it was all over but the blood-drinking.
Adrian was a blur, tearing men off of some poor creature, and doing it viciously. There were two
bodies lying near Green, their blood seeping into the surf, their throats torn out and their eyes
glazed. As Green drew closer, his gentle vampire had the third by the hair and was screaming,
“What did you do to him?!!!”
“Nothin’! We clapped him in irons and he screamed!”
Green took another look at the poor thing, kneeling in the surf of the early morning dark, and
caught his breath. The pointed ears, even covered in a snarled knot of dark hair, were unmistakable.
“He’s sidhe,” Green muttered, hoping to get Adrian’s attention. He’d seen Adrian kill, since he’d
been a vampire, but he’d never seen such vicious bloodshed from his once gentle beloved. A part of
him mourned, sickened, but another part—the part who had rescued Adrian from his own
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oppression—rejoiced. Oh, Adrian—by all means defend the weak and wreak vengeance on the
abusers—it’s who you were re-born to be.
The creature in the surf gave another pitiful scream and Green stood decisively.
“A’—do me a favor. Put your toy down and take those things off his wrists, yes? I can’t touch
them—they’ll do the same to me. You can go feed on your bloke then, and then get your arse back to
the darkling.”
“Right, Green,” Adrian told him obediently. Always—Adrian would obey Green always, except for
that last, terrible disobedience many, many years in the future.
The young sidhe in the surf screamed when Adrian touched him, gibbering something about
‘monster’ and ‘unclean’. To his credit, Adrian ignored the elf: he’d been prepared for such
accusations when he turned. In a moment, the deadly iron was shattered and thrown out to sea to
rot, and the elf plunged his blistered, burning wrists into the soothing healing of the surf.
Adrian picked up his dinner then, and disappeared. The dinner’s frantic screams were mercifully
cut short within a few heartbeats, and Green turned to the task at hand.
He was gentle, as he plodded more deeply into the chilly surf and fell to his knees in front of the
elf-boy. He held out his hands with some command—the sidhe were raised to defer to their
elders—and the boy put his hands into Green’s with simple trust.
The bloody blisters started at mid-palm, became lesions at his wrists, and then faded to mere
painful, postulating blisters again near his forearm.
“Oh, lad,” Green tutted. “That’s well and truly painful, boy-o. Here—can you hold them up? If I
give them a kiss, maybe, they’ll feel better, right?”
“I’m not a boy.”
Green glanced at the young sidhe in surprise as he held the excruciating cold-iron burn to his
lips and breathed lightly. The boy (or not) gave a sigh as some of the blisters receded, leaving only
swelling. “No?” Green asked, before moving up to the more damaged part of his wrist.
Two furious green and brown eyes glared back at Green from that tangle of dark hair. “I’m
grown, same as you,” said the elf, his mouth compressed tightly, and Green breathed a little more
healing to his skin.
“How many years?” Green asked. The Goddess’ children tended to reach sexual maturity and
then… stop. Frozen at their most beautiful. Age was often hard to discern. Green himself was nearly
sixteen-hundred years old, but he tended to still believe the best of things, and many sidhe mistook
him for much younger.
“A century, perhaps,” the sidhe snapped. “Old enough to leave home!”
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Green frowned at the wrists, which were still ulcerated and raw. “Indeed,” he murmured. “Care
to tell me how this all happened, then?”
“No,” the other elf snapped. He looked away, irritated and disgruntled. “Humans don’t… they
don’t understand sport, do they?”
“Sexual sport?” Green extended a careful pink tongue, and watched as the boy tilted back his
head and sighed gustily. Yes—Green’s touch was potent, even here by the salt water that canceled
magic. He drew power from sex, he expended it in healing—sometimes, the act of healing became
sex, and he drew power from that too. The young sidhe’s body (for a century was still quite young)
must be tingling by now, growing heavy and full. Good. Arousal was good—it made the heart sleepy
and warm, and not bitter and angry, and that too was good for healing.
“No,” Green answered, as the elf nodded reluctantly. “They don’t understand it. And sport among
males is… difficult. They’ll do it, yes—but they won’t acknowledge that it happens. And when they
do acknowledge that it happens, they seem to think it requires some sort of effort on their part to
show the world that they are the type of men who would do that.”
“What type of man is that?”
Green shrugged. “I have no idea. I like them all.”
The young elf sighed. “Me too,” he said mournfully, and Green had to smile.
“Me too.” He extended a pointed tongue then, and started lapping gently at the deeper wounds.
The elf winced, and then gasped, and then sighed.
“That’s very good,” he conceded, as the surf lapped at their knees. “Uhm… do you… uhm…”
Green grinned. “Am I a healing elf to the base of my cock?” he asked boldly, and was rewarded by
a wicked grin.
“Yes,” the young elf breathed. “Yes.”
“Then yes,” Green murmured, taking his breath and the softness of his lips and the sweetness of
his tongue to the inside of the elf’s arm, where he teased the tender tender flesh there. “But I think
we should exchange names first, right?”
“Cocklebur.”
Green grinned. It suited him—prickly, wicked, and apparently used to getting himself into
scrapes. “Green,” he murmured, moving on his knees so his lips were on the elf’s bicep, and then his
shoulder. The cheeky little bastard went in for a kiss, but Green dodged it, and continued to tease
with his lips and his tongue along the top of the elf’s shoulders. He pushed aside the tangled dark
hair and traced a path to the other shoulder, down the other arm. He stop and suckled on that
tender, sensitive crook of inner arm, and then breathed down the forearm, to the wrist. The arm
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was mostly healed, just from Green’s genuinely given touch and free desire, but Green made sure all
of the painful blisters and the bloody divots in Cocklebur’s wrists were gone and healed before he
put the boy’s palm to his mouth. (Century or not, he was still a boy.)
Very carefully, using the scrape of teeth and the tickle of tongue, the press of lips and the
suckling of all three, he planted a deliberate kiss in the center of the long-fingered sidhe palm.
Cocklebur let out a whine of arousal that cut through the crash of the surf, and Green grinned at
him from there on his knees.
“Stand up,” he commanded. The elf did, revealing a sidhe’s long, rangy body, with narrow hips,
shoulders, and long torso, clothed only in tattered cotton breeches. His erection (fully sized,
although the elf seemed a little short for most sidhe) fell heavily forward, pushing the fabric
outward, and Green played with it for a moment, making it bob and jump.
Cocklebur whined again, pushing against that teasing, one-fingered touch until Green’s throaty
chuckles were close enough to warm the fabric, and the elf threw his hips forward in desperation.
“Thought you weren’t a boy,” Green chided. “Men have more control.”
“Just wanted some sport…” Cocklebur admitted painfully, and Green remembered himself.
Sometimes touch was as important as air to a sidhe, and sometimes more so. It had apparently been
that way for this elf on this night, to lead him to the dire straits that Green and Adrian had
discovered on this lonely beach in the moonlight.
With no further teasing, he pulled the trousers down from the young man’s white-pale flesh,
opened his mouth, and engulfed that taut, burgeoning cock all the way to the root.
“Goddess… oh Goddess…” Cocklebur all-but sobbed above him. Fingers clenched in Green’s
queued hair, the bite of pain making Green’s own arousal sweet. Green pulled back, and then
engulfed that sweet flesh again, and again, and again, until Cocklebur forgot himself, pumping
satisfyingly into Green’s mouth without regard for Green’s own pleasure.
Green liked it when those he healed could do that. Sometimes the surest way of knowing if
someone’s heart was healed was knowing that they felt safe to be selfish. Cocklebur was certainly
that, clenching Green’s hair, seeking his own pleasure with grunts and wordless cries. Green cupped
his hairless balls and squeezed gently, and Cocklebur gave a shout that Adrian could probably hear,
back at their windowless flat, and then, as Green moved two spit-slickened fingers to his tender
entrance, he all but screamed into the pre-dawn fog.
His come, when it came was hot and thin, and Green swallowed most of it. He waited until
Cocklebur was bent double, clutching Green’s head to his groin and sobbing, before rising to his
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feet, dripping with cold surf, and claiming a thin, only slightly pouty mouth in a kiss and letting the
elf taste what he had spent inside Green.
The kiss deepened, and lingered, and Cocklebur pulled back and took a lap at the corner of
Green’s mouth.
“It’s clean,” he breathed. “No cold-iron bitterness. No pain.”
A healing elf of body and spirit—it was Green’s best gift. The only person he couldn’t seem to
heal completely, he thought sadly, was Adrian. He did not know that the only person who could do
that had yet to be born.
“All healed,” Green said at this moment. “All better.”
The young elf smiled slyly. “Would you like some recompense, guvnor?”
Green frowned. Goddess, he hated the old-country ways. But Cocklebur was showing
appreciation, and affection, and it was something he probably wouldn’t have done just minutes
before, when only his flesh was healed.
Green took the offer for what it was: gratitude and kindness. He put Cocklebur’s hand against his
own trousers and pushed. Cocklebur’s eyes got big and round, and Green bent his head and
whispered, “You want this? You want me inside you, pounding you until you scream come?”
Green caught the younger elf when his knees went weak. He had a knack for knowing,
sometimes, what a partner would want, what would fill the empty spaces inside a young man or
woman’s soul.
“Oh Goddess,” Cocklebur groaned. “Yes…please yes…please…”
They were wet, and they were cold, but that little plea had two pleases and two yeses, and Green
searched the coastline for a stand of trees, a hidden patch of damp grass, because Green would not
deny that begging for the world.
***
Cory’s sleeping, burgeoning body squirmed against Green as the dream ‘came’ to its logical and
truthful conclusion. He smiled a little as he finished the work he’d been doing on his laptop as she’d
slept and dreamed his memories. He’d been scenting her arousal for a good fifteen minutes. When
she woke up from her nap, she would be… well, in a better mood, and wasn’t that the truth.
“Mmmm…” she groaned against him, the unbridled decadence of the sound making him hard. He
shut his laptop and turned as she was sitting up and wiping her eyes. She grinned at him sleepily,
and, as usual, the first thing she said caught her off guard.
“Awesome dream, beloved—but I don’t think I’m going to get into Cocklebur’s good graces that
way. Don’t you think I have enough on my plate?”
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Green grinned back. “You’ll think of some way to do it besides that, I’ll grant you. In the
meantime…” His hands, long and skillful, swept down under her arms and to her waist. Yes, it was
bigger, but one of the children she was carrying was his, and that was about the sexiest flesh he’d
ever felt.
Kirkpatrick op Crocken Green very much—but that didn’t mean he was looking forward to
spending the evening with her when she’d been left behind from a potentially dangerous mission.
“Don’t mope, beloved,” he said mildly, watching her trying to make her slightly widening bottom
comfortable on the opposite end of the couch. Her body was changing, and the twin hearts in her
belly were growing day by day.
The glare she shot him was hardly a ‘mope’. “Don’t patronize me, Green,” she snapped. “I’m…”
Her eyes bulged, and he fought back a laugh. She was tired, her boobs hurt, her feet hurt, her back
hurt, her ‘cooter’ hurt (interesting term—he loathed it, but it did make him laugh), her stomach
hurt, she had heartburn, hemorrhoids, varicose veins and a headache. Yes—she had all the
symptoms of pregnancy, but she didn’t want to whine. Not his beloved. So, she felt like shit, didn’t
want to whine, and was even more pissed off because all of the things she didn’t want to whine
about were the reasons she didn’t get to go on the mission. For his beloved, who was usually more
vocal than discreet, this was a conundrum.
Her eyes were still bulging and her hands were flailing as she fought for words, and Green was
about to put her out of her misery and soothe her, when her body betrayed her.
Her stomach growled, and true to the many conflicting emotions in her heart, her body sent her
to the one she’d hate the most.
A young man with long
black hair sits on a tree
trunk in a golden field
facing away from the
camera; his hands are
cuffed behind his back.
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Her lower lip quivered and she sent him a look so full of misery it almost broke her heart.
“Aw,” she muttered, “goddammit, Green!”
He laughed gently, and put his arm out to her. She rushed to him and lay her head on his chest
and allowed him to run his hands through her wildly curly reddish hair.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know,” he said softly.
“I couldn’t go with them,” she muttered. “I couldn’t go with them. I always go with them. I
always… dammit, Green. I take care of them. And Bracken was so angry!”
Green grimaced. Yes, Bracken was angry. Thanks to an impromptu blood transfusion that
summer, and some magical consequences, Cory could feel his anger, literally in her blood.
“Of course he was angry,” he said softly. “You two have been working as a team for nearly two
years, beloved. How easy do you think it was for him to leave you here?”
“Well then he shouldn’t have… fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…” The litany continued. Her next
line would have been, “He shouldn’t have knocked me up!” but the worst part of her dilemma was
that she’d accidentally counteracted both Bracken and Green’s birth control. It was how she came to
be pregnant with sidhe twins, when her tiny mortal body would have been hard-pressed to carry
one child to full term.
“Jesus, Green!” she finally burst out with. “Isn’t there one goddamned blessed thing I can bitch
about that I didn’t bring on my own goddamned head?”
Green was forced to laugh. “Yes, beloved. You can bitch about being hungry. It’s my fault—I
should have fed you sooner. Here, let me get you something.”
“I’ll get it,” a voice said over Green’s shoulder, and Green turned slightly and smiled. “Thank you,
Cocklebur. That’s very kind of you.”
“Pie, guvnor?”
Green grimaced—first, because although Cocklebur had come over the pond around the same
time Green did, he insisted on referring to Green like a superior, and second, because Cory was
nodding enthusiastically for pie.
“There’s some chicken and vegetables in the refrigerator, if you don’t mind putting it on some
bread and heating it up,” Green said, looking sternly at Cory as he said it. Her face fell, but he could
tell by the way she rolled her eyes for form that she agreed. Pie would probably make her feel
worse, and something healthy would make her feel better. The simplest logic wasn’t always the
easiest to live with.
Cocklebur brought the food, and a bottle of water for Green, with a little flourish and a bow.
“Hereyago, Little Goddess,” he said to Cory. “You just sit back and be the queen of the manor, right?”
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Cory gave a passable impression of a smile. “Thanks, Cocklebur. That was nice of you. I could
have gotten it myself, you know.”
The elf’s expression twisted, and for a moment, he looked almost ugly, an impossibility for a
people known for their inhumanly perfect beauty. “You go ahead and be a lazy stropping cow, and
see if I give a shit!” he snapped, and then flounced off, leaving Cory even more miserable than she
had been before.
“Aw. Goddammit, Green—I didn’t mean…”
“Yes, I know. Hush. Here. Eat your food. Sleep. That’s just his way. He’ll apologize in a minute…”
“I know, I know, and everything will be better.” Cory tucked into her food and didn’t harp on the
obvious. With Cocklebur, that’s pretty much what you had to hope for—that someday, things would
be better.
“Would you like to know why that is?” Green asked, as she was eating. She looked at him with a
full mouth and nodded. She hadn’t wanted to admit it, but he could see she’d been starving. She did
too much in her day, he thought worriedly, but he didn’t say anything.
“I’ll tell you… better yet, take a nap on me while I work, and I’ll show you,” he coaxed, thinking
this could be the only way he would get her to rest for the rest of the pregnancy.
“Show me?” She swallowed, and then yawned. “I mean, you know, show me? Can you do that?”
“Absolutely,” Green told her. “Here. All done?” She nodded and he took the plate from her. With a
thought, he summoned tiny sprites to take the mess away and then pulled her head down on his lap
so he could smooth the hair from her face. “Now I don’t do this often, but if you’ll let me, I’ll let you
dream it. It will be like watching a movie in your sleep, yes? Except, you’ll get to feel it, too.”
Cory giggled. “Uhm, how much am I going to feel?” she asked drowsily. “I mean, uhm… Green.
You, uhm… you’ve slept with everyone at the hill. Is this dream going to be…”
“X rated?” Green grinned. “Damned straight, beloved. If you’re going to be napping instead of
shagging…”
“Sorry, Green…”
“No worries, luv. You just close your eyes and dream. It will be a little scary at first, but it will be
a lovely dream at the end, and maybe you’ll understand our bloke a little better at the end of it,
okay?”
She managed a little moan of comfort, as she pillowed her head on his thigh and fell asleep.
Green started the dream where all things started for the two of them.
***
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Adrian. Adrian had just been turned vampire, and they were walking along the beach in the bay.
His white-blond hair was shoulder length and curly, held back in a queue like Green’s longer,
butter-colored hair. His sky-spangled eyes were almost transparent in the thin moonlight, but his
insouciant, love-it-or-lay-it grin was fully in place as he played a puppy-like game of kicking a rock
through the surf.
It was back in 1850, and so much of what was industrialized and full of metal and oil now was
simply beach. Yes, some of it was putrid with the lack of plumbing, but some more of it was… beach.
Salt water. Salt water that broke all magic, good and bad. Oh, the purity of clean, abrasive, salt.
Green was barefoot, as all sidhe preferred to be, and he was enjoying the feeling of the sand
between his long toes. It was long ago, and simple things were more easily acknowledged for giving
the most joy.
They were far away from the busiest part of the harbor, and the ships were all sleeping in their
berths. There was a stand of eucalyptus trees before them, as the bay widened to open sea, and as
Adrian’s booted feet and Green’s bare ones splatted in the shallow layer of surf, there was a far
away scream.
They looked at each other, apprehensively. Green was not a power at this point—he had no
people, and no ambitions for them. But that scream had sounded desperate, and in pain, and the
two of them had strengths that other people did not. Adrian was not adept at vampire’s flight at this
point, but that didn’t stop him from giving a grunt and a leap into a shaky course through the air,
even while Green began to move with that burst of Goddess speed that humans always thought of
as magic.
By the time Green got there, it was all over but the blood-drinking.
Adrian was a blur, tearing men off of some poor creature, and doing it viciously. There were two
bodies lying near Green, their blood seeping into the surf, their throats torn out and their eyes
glazed. As Green drew closer, his gentle vampire had the third by the hair and was screaming,
“What did you do to him?!!!”
“Nothin’! We clapped him in irons and he screamed!”
Green took another look at the poor thing, kneeling in the surf of the early morning dark, and
caught his breath. The pointed ears, even covered in a snarled knot of dark hair, were unmistakable.
“He’s sidhe,” Green muttered, hoping to get Adrian’s attention. He’d seen Adrian kill, since he’d
been a vampire, but he’d never seen such vicious bloodshed from his once gentle beloved. A part of
him mourned, sickened, but another part—the part who had rescued Adrian from his own
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oppression—rejoiced. Oh, Adrian—by all means defend the weak and wreak vengeance on the
abusers—it’s who you were re-born to be.
The creature in the surf gave another pitiful scream and Green stood decisively.
“A’—do me a favor. Put your toy down and take those things off his wrists, yes? I can’t touch
them—they’ll do the same to me. You can go feed on your bloke then, and then get your arse back to
the darkling.”
“Right, Green,” Adrian told him obediently. Always—Adrian would obey Green always, except for
that last, terrible disobedience many, many years in the future.
The young sidhe in the surf screamed when Adrian touched him, gibbering something about
‘monster’ and ‘unclean’. To his credit, Adrian ignored the elf: he’d been prepared for such
accusations when he turned. In a moment, the deadly iron was shattered and thrown out to sea to
rot, and the elf plunged his blistered, burning wrists into the soothing healing of the surf.
Adrian picked up his dinner then, and disappeared. The dinner’s frantic screams were mercifully
cut short within a few heartbeats, and Green turned to the task at hand.
He was gentle, as he plodded more deeply into the chilly surf and fell to his knees in front of the
elf-boy. He held out his hands with some command—the sidhe were raised to defer to their
elders—and the boy put his hands into Green’s with simple trust.
The bloody blisters started at mid-palm, became lesions at his wrists, and then faded to mere
painful, postulating blisters again near his forearm.
“Oh, lad,” Green tutted. “That’s well and truly painful, boy-o. Here—can you hold them up? If I
give them a kiss, maybe, they’ll feel better, right?”
“I’m not a boy.”
Green glanced at the young sidhe in surprise as he held the excruciating cold-iron burn to his
lips and breathed lightly. The boy (or not) gave a sigh as some of the blisters receded, leaving only
swelling. “No?” Green asked, before moving up to the more damaged part of his wrist.
Two furious green and brown eyes glared back at Green from that tangle of dark hair. “I’m
grown, same as you,” said the elf, his mouth compressed tightly, and Green breathed a little more
healing to his skin.
“How many years?” Green asked. The Goddess’ children tended to reach sexual maturity and
then… stop. Frozen at their most beautiful. Age was often hard to discern. Green himself was nearly
sixteen-hundred years old, but he tended to still believe the best of things, and many sidhe mistook
him for much younger.
“A century, perhaps,” the sidhe snapped. “Old enough to leave home!”
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Green frowned at the wrists, which were still ulcerated and raw. “Indeed,” he murmured. “Care
to tell me how this all happened, then?”
“No,” the other elf snapped. He looked away, irritated and disgruntled. “Humans don’t… they
don’t understand sport, do they?”
“Sexual sport?” Green extended a careful pink tongue, and watched as the boy tilted back his
head and sighed gustily. Yes—Green’s touch was potent, even here by the salt water that canceled
magic. He drew power from sex, he expended it in healing—sometimes, the act of healing became
sex, and he drew power from that too. The young sidhe’s body (for a century was still quite young)
must be tingling by now, growing heavy and full. Good. Arousal was good—it made the heart sleepy
and warm, and not bitter and angry, and that too was good for healing.
“No,” Green answered, as the elf nodded reluctantly. “They don’t understand it. And sport among
males is… difficult. They’ll do it, yes—but they won’t acknowledge that it happens. And when they
do acknowledge that it happens, they seem to think it requires some sort of effort on their part to
show the world that they are the type of men who would do that.”
“What type of man is that?”
Green shrugged. “I have no idea. I like them all.”
The young elf sighed. “Me too,” he said mournfully, and Green had to smile.
“Me too.” He extended a pointed tongue then, and started lapping gently at the deeper wounds.
The elf winced, and then gasped, and then sighed.
“That’s very good,” he conceded, as the surf lapped at their knees. “Uhm… do you… uhm…”
Green grinned. “Am I a healing elf to the base of my cock?” he asked boldly, and was rewarded by
a wicked grin.
“Yes,” the young elf breathed. “Yes.”
“Then yes,” Green murmured, taking his breath and the softness of his lips and the sweetness of
his tongue to the inside of the elf’s arm, where he teased the tender tender flesh there. “But I think
we should exchange names first, right?”
“Cocklebur.”
Green grinned. It suited him—prickly, wicked, and apparently used to getting himself into
scrapes. “Green,” he murmured, moving on his knees so his lips were on the elf’s bicep, and then his
shoulder. The cheeky little bastard went in for a kiss, but Green dodged it, and continued to tease
with his lips and his tongue along the top of the elf’s shoulders. He pushed aside the tangled dark
hair and traced a path to the other shoulder, down the other arm. He stop and suckled on that
tender, sensitive crook of inner arm, and then breathed down the forearm, to the wrist. The arm
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was mostly healed, just from Green’s genuinely given touch and free desire, but Green made sure all
of the painful blisters and the bloody divots in Cocklebur’s wrists were gone and healed before he
put the boy’s palm to his mouth. (Century or not, he was still a boy.)
Very carefully, using the scrape of teeth and the tickle of tongue, the press of lips and the
suckling of all three, he planted a deliberate kiss in the center of the long-fingered sidhe palm.
Cocklebur let out a whine of arousal that cut through the crash of the surf, and Green grinned at
him from there on his knees.
“Stand up,” he commanded. The elf did, revealing a sidhe’s long, rangy body, with narrow hips,
shoulders, and long torso, clothed only in tattered cotton breeches. His erection (fully sized,
although the elf seemed a little short for most sidhe) fell heavily forward, pushing the fabric
outward, and Green played with it for a moment, making it bob and jump.
Cocklebur whined again, pushing against that teasing, one-fingered touch until Green’s throaty
chuckles were close enough to warm the fabric, and the elf threw his hips forward in desperation.
“Thought you weren’t a boy,” Green chided. “Men have more control.”
“Just wanted some sport…” Cocklebur admitted painfully, and Green remembered himself.
Sometimes touch was as important as air to a sidhe, and sometimes more so. It had apparently been
that way for this elf on this night, to lead him to the dire straits that Green and Adrian had
discovered on this lonely beach in the moonlight.
With no further teasing, he pulled the trousers down from the young man’s white-pale flesh,
opened his mouth, and engulfed that taut, burgeoning cock all the way to the root.
“Goddess… oh Goddess…” Cocklebur all-but sobbed above him. Fingers clenched in Green’s
queued hair, the bite of pain making Green’s own arousal sweet. Green pulled back, and then
engulfed that sweet flesh again, and again, and again, until Cocklebur forgot himself, pumping
satisfyingly into Green’s mouth without regard for Green’s own pleasure.
Green liked it when those he healed could do that. Sometimes the surest way of knowing if
someone’s heart was healed was knowing that they felt safe to be selfish. Cocklebur was certainly
that, clenching Green’s hair, seeking his own pleasure with grunts and wordless cries. Green cupped
his hairless balls and squeezed gently, and Cocklebur gave a shout that Adrian could probably hear,
back at their windowless flat, and then, as Green moved two spit-slickened fingers to his tender
entrance, he all but screamed into the pre-dawn fog.
His come, when it came was hot and thin, and Green swallowed most of it. He waited until
Cocklebur was bent double, clutching Green’s head to his groin and sobbing, before rising to his
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feet, dripping with cold surf, and claiming a thin, only slightly pouty mouth in a kiss and letting the
elf taste what he had spent inside Green.
The kiss deepened, and lingered, and Cocklebur pulled back and took a lap at the corner of
Green’s mouth.
“It’s clean,” he breathed. “No cold-iron bitterness. No pain.”
A healing elf of body and spirit—it was Green’s best gift. The only person he couldn’t seem to
heal completely, he thought sadly, was Adrian. He did not know that the only person who could do
that had yet to be born.
“All healed,” Green said at this moment. “All better.”
The young elf smiled slyly. “Would you like some recompense, guvnor?”
Green frowned. Goddess, he hated the old-country ways. But Cocklebur was showing
appreciation, and affection, and it was something he probably wouldn’t have done just minutes
before, when only his flesh was healed.
Green took the offer for what it was: gratitude and kindness. He put Cocklebur’s hand against his
own trousers and pushed. Cocklebur’s eyes got big and round, and Green bent his head and
whispered, “You want this? You want me inside you, pounding you until you scream come?”
Green caught the younger elf when his knees went weak. He had a knack for knowing,
sometimes, what a partner would want, what would fill the empty spaces inside a young man or
woman’s soul.
“Oh Goddess,” Cocklebur groaned. “Yes…please yes…please…”
They were wet, and they were cold, but that little plea had two pleases and two yeses, and Green
searched the coastline for a stand of trees, a hidden patch of damp grass, because Green would not
deny that begging for the world.
***
Cory’s sleeping, burgeoning body squirmed against Green as the dream ‘came’ to its logical and
truthful conclusion. He smiled a little as he finished the work he’d been doing on his laptop as she’d
slept and dreamed his memories. He’d been scenting her arousal for a good fifteen minutes. When
she woke up from her nap, she would be… well, in a better mood, and wasn’t that the truth.
“Mmmm…” she groaned against him, the unbridled decadence of the sound making him hard. He
shut his laptop and turned as she was sitting up and wiping her eyes. She grinned at him sleepily,
and, as usual, the first thing she said caught her off guard.
“Awesome dream, beloved—but I don’t think I’m going to get into Cocklebur’s good graces that
way. Don’t you think I have enough on my plate?”
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Green grinned back. “You’ll think of some way to do it besides that, I’ll grant you. In the
meantime…” His hands, long and skillful, swept down under her arms and to her waist. Yes, it was
bigger, but one of the children she was carrying was his, and that was about the sexiest flesh he’d
ever felt.
HOLIDAY BONUS by Stephani Hecht.. - full story
Eli glanced up at the clock and silently counted off the
minutes left until his shift ended. His hands balled up into fists,
the move almost unconscious as he shifted in his plush office
chair. The laptop in front of him let out a low hum as the fan
kicked on, but he mostly ignored it. Who could think of
something as mundane as numbers and stock reports on a day
like today?
The distraction wasn’t due to the fact that it was Christmas Eve. Nor did it have anything to do
with the threat of a heavy snowstorm that was due to blow in at any moment. While those two
things had the potential to be annoying at best, they didn’t account for his nerves and near panic.
No, it had everything to do with the man in the next office. The hottest, sexiest son of a bitch in Ohio,
if not the entire United States.
On its own accord, Eli’s gaze drifted to the closed door that separated their desks. Since his boss
was well…the boss, he had one of those plaques on his door that had his name engraved on it. He
swallowed hard as his lips silently formed said name, Blake Weatherston.
Even with the wood barrier separating them, Eli could almost see the image Mr. Weatherston
presented. With dark hair, cut into a short business cut and a steely gray-eyed gaze, he was the last
type Eli ever thought he’d fall for. Yet, he had fallen, very hard. Eli knew he’d get hurt in the crash
and burn that would no doubt be the end result of his child-like crush.
That still didn’t prevent Eli from indulging in numerous fantasies, however. All of them had the
same theme, too--of him on his knees in front of Mr. Weatherston, head bowed, read to follow any
order given.
A groan slipped past Eli’s lips as another scenario sprang into his lust-filled head--this one
playing out with him nude, tied face down on a bed and waiting in eager anticipation for Mr.
A very handsome man stands
in front of a closet wearing an
expensive tailored suit. The
dress shirt is open to reveal a
leather S&M harness
underneath and a pair of
silver handcuffs hanging from
his belt.
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Weatherston to do something…anything that would either result in pleasure or the most exquisite
pain.
Eli let out a low curse as he rubbed the heel of his hand against his hard cock. Great, just what he
needed, to spring another woody while on the clock. His only silver lining was that he’d been the
only employee who’d come in on the holiday.
The rest of the staff couldn’t understand why he’d willingly come in on Christmas Eve. He just
shrugged it off before mumbling something about needing the overtime. No way in hell would he
admit that he couldn’t stand being away from their aloof, stern employer. While everyone else
looked forward to the weekend, Eli cursed them.
He dropped his head to the desk, a sigh of self-disgust brushing against his lips. How much more
of a loser he could be? Here his crush had developed to near stalker status when Mr. Weatherston
never bothered to glance twice at him unless it was to issue an order. Not the good kind of orders
either, but ones that had to do with paperwork or clients.
The computer pinged, letting him know he had a new email message. Since he didn’t want to
deal with the mounting pile of forms and paperwork that awaited him, he decided to check out the
message. In truth, the email both confused and intrigued him since nobody else was at work. It
could be a client, but he doubted that even they would be out and working when they had
celebrations to attend. Not everyone had just an empty apartment and microwave dinner to keep
them company. Normal people had families and friends.
He clicked on his inbox and frowned when he saw it came from Mr. Weatherston. Opening it, he
frowned even further as he scanned the note, Come to my office, now. The message was curt and
cold, just like Mr. Weatherston’s personality. In the three months he’d worked there, Eli didn’t think
he’d seen his boss smile once, not even when one of the receptionists, Renee, brought in her new
baby. Who couldn’t break out a smile for an infant? It brought hardass to a whole new level.
That still didn’t stop Eli from fantasizing about the man though. If anything it made him want
him more. He wasted countless hours thinking of unique and imaginative ways he could finally earn
a smile of approval from Mr. Weatherston. Just one, that’s all Eli would need. Hell, there didn’t have
to be any teeth behind it. He’d be willing to take a tight-lipped Mona Lisa number, just so long as he
knew that he’d pleased the guy.
Eli’s computer pinged again. Somehow the noise carried a sharp edge of annoyance. Even before
he clicked the refresh button, he knew it would be from Mr. Weatherston. He swallowed against a
dry throat as his gaze drifted over the new message, this one even shorter than its predecessor. I
said, now!
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He rubbed the palms of his hands over his coal-colored dress slacks as he darted a look at the
door. Heart pounding in fear and just maybe a bit of arousal, Eli forced himself to stand and move to
the door.
With every step he took closer, his chest grew tighter and more anxiety churned in his gut. He
chided himself for having such a stupid reaction. The boss probably just needed help with the new
computer program again. Ever since corporate switched to a new system, Mr. Weatherston had
been yelling out questions to his personal assistant at a nearly hourly base. He must have turned to
Eli out of desperation since they were the only ones present.
He swallowed hard once more as he raised his hand and gave a short, hard knock. As he waited
for a response, he clenched his hands into fists, silently cursing himself as he realized they were
empty. He should have brought along a pad of paper in case he had to take notes or something.
Stupid! How many times do you think you’ll be able to fuck up before they kick your sorry ass to the
street?
Before he could berate himself any longer, Mr. Weatherston called, “It’s about time. Get in here.”
Eeep…not exactly how he’d hoped the conversation would start, but it wasn’t like Eli could turn
tail and bolt now. Not unless he wanted to start off the new year collecting unemployment. He took
in a deep breath before he turned the handle.
Mr. Weatherston barely looked up from his computer as Eli entered. That was okay though, since
it gave Eli a chance to really study his boss. Even seated behind his massive, oak desk, Mr.
Weatherston still managed to look dominating and like a fuck-me-please dream come true. His
normally carefully groomed, dark hair had a small cowlick in the front, like one would get tugging at
in frustration or something. He’d taken off his suit coat and loosened his red tie, plus the top few
buttons of his black dress shirt were undone, but that didn’t make him any more approachable.
More uneasy than ever, Eli shuffled forward another couple steps. He deliberately left the door
slightly open. While the idea of being trapped by Mr. Weatherston may send a thrill through Eli that
went straight to his cock, he didn’t have any aspirations to their conversation would last more than
a few seconds.
When several tense beats passed and the boss didn’t say anything, Eli nervously cleared his
throat. “You wanted to see me, sir?”
That got Mr. Weatherston’s attention, but not in the way Eli wanted. He glared up from his work,
his full sensual lips pressed into a disapproving line. “Don’t speak unless I give you permission.”
Eli blinked a few times, the words hitting him like a slap to the nose. He felt as if he’d just been a
puppy reprimanded for barking at the mailman or something. A rush of anger went over him.
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Unfortunately so did a wave of desire. Great, just what he needed to finish off this craptastic day, to
spring an erection in front of his boss. He could almost hear how he’d have to explain that one away
to the unemployment office.
“How did you lose your last job?”
“Well, you see my penis couldn’t control itself and decided to stand up and be noticed while I was in
my employer’s office. Oops, my bad.”
The silence continued to stretch and Eli fought the urge to shift nervously on the balls of his feet.
Why in the hell didn’t Mr. Weatherston just tell him what he wanted? Surely he didn’t call Eli in here
just so he could watch his boss working on the computer. If so, it seemed like a damn waste of his
time and since Mr. Weatherston was the one who signed Eli’s paychecks, he should care about that
more than anyone.
Just when Eli felt ready to crawl out of his skin, Mr. Weatherston turned and gave Eli a smile. An
actual frigging smile! Eli’s lips parted slightly in shock and he had to hold back a gasp of surprise.
“I’m glad to see you can follow direction. It lets me see that you have potential,” Mr. Weatherston
said as he slowly rose to his feet.
Warmth pooled in Eli’s stomach at the praise. If he had been that reprimanded puppy, his tail
would have been wagging in anticipation. He opened his mouth to shoot off a thank you, but quickly
clamped it shut again when he realized he didn’t have permission to speak.
Mr. Weatherston walked past Eli, their bodies so close together that Eli could smell the
expensive cologne the man wore. A mix of sandalwood and musk, it never failed to set Eli’s libido
off. While he wanted to turn his head in order to drink in more of the scent, something told him that
any movement on his part wouldn’t be welcomed. Not unless it was under Mr. Weatherston’s
orders.
* * * *
Blake bit back a moan as he watched the younger man struggle to obey his commands. The short,
hesitant way he moved screamed his inexperience. Yet, Eli still seemed so eager to please…to
submit. Blake forced back another smile as he relished the thought of finally being able to have
some alone time with his newest employee.
Eli lowered his blue-eyed gaze to the ground, his plump lips slightly parted as he took in sharp
breaths. While Blake knew the man styled his short, dark hair into a faux hawk off hours, while at
the office, he kept in a more conservative style, only spiking the very front slightly. He wore a suit
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that didn’t appear expensive, but still managed to fit his thin build to perfection. The tie was tight
and perfectly knotted, just as Blake had come to expect from his employee. Eli always strived to be
the best worker, the neatest dressed, the most efficient at office procedure, in other words, a damn
perfectionist. It was trait that both impressed and annoyed Blake.
Truthfully, Eli should be off limits. Blake was his boss and the other man was ten years, two
months and thirteen days younger. Ever since Blake first laid eyes on the too-hot-for-his-own-good
brat, he’d been fighting the attraction that he knew went both ways. Blake had been doing a good
job of keeping his distance, too, until two things happened.
Number one may not have been enough to have pushed Blake over the edge. Eli had gone on a
few dates with one of the guys from the next office over. While it had created tinge of jealously,
Blake only had to take one glance at the pathetic loser to know he’d never last with Eli. Even from
across the parking garage, Blake could tell the man would be too soft and easy for Eli to manipulate.
Even in the short time Blake had known Eli, he realized the younger man yearned for someone
stronger and in control.
Still, if that had been the only issue, then Blake would have been okay. He could deal with a little
bit of jealously--not that he felt proud of his moment of weakness, but he would have gotten over it.
Then, just as he thought he had a handle on the situation, he got slapped with problem number
two—he had to work all day with Eli, the two of them alone.
Blake realized immediately there would be no way in hell he could be around that sweet
temptation all day and not give into his urge to sample just a little bite. Now that he actually had Eli
in his office and at his mercy, Blake also knew that neither of them would be leaving any time soon,
nor would there be any more work getting done.
He pushed the door the office closed, biting back another smile as he noticed Eli tracking the
movement. Eli even licked his lips a few times in a nervous gesture. He didn’t break and speak,
however, and for that, Blake was willing to give a small reward.
“Did you enjoy your holiday bonus?” Blake asked as he moved in behind Eli.
Eli nodded, but didn’t turn around. “Yes, Mr. Weatherston. I especially liked how you gave us a
magazine subscription in addition to a check. So every month now, I’ll get a new magazine. It’s like a
gift that keeps on giving. I’ve always been fond of that kind of present.”
Blake smiled at Eli’s babbling answer. “Why don’t you call me Blake?”
“Sir?” Eli turned his head slightly in Blake’s direction. The way Eli’s brow furrowed in confusion
could only be called cute.
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“You can call me that, too. In fact, sir would work much better in certain circumstances. Just not
Mr. Weatherston. It’s too formal.”
“I don’t understand,” Eli replied in a small voice.
“I’m not going to be coy. I want you and by the fuck-me looks you’ve been shooting my way, I
would say that you want me, too.” He ran the back of his fingers along Eli’s cheek, relishing the
shiver he earned in response. “Unless I’m mistaken. If I am, then just tell me. I won’t force you to do
anything you don’t want to and if you say no, it won’t mean you’ll lose your job either.”
Eli’s closed his eyes as he took in a shuddering breath. When his lids opened again, Blake’s cock
jerked in response when saw the arousal darkening the man’s gaze.
“I want it very much, Mr. Wea…sir.”
“Good boy,” Blake praise as he caressed Eli’s cheek once more. “There’s one more thing you
should know though. If we do this, I’m in charge. While I’ll never do anything that you don’t want, I
still call the shots.”
A tiny smile passed over Eli’s lips. “In other words, you’re still the boss.”
Blake cupped Eli’s chin and forced him to lock gazes. “More than that, I’ll also be there to protect
you and to guide you. Do you understand what that means?”
“I think so,” Eli hedged. “You want to be my dominant.”
“Yes, does that make you uncomfortable?” Blake ran the pad of his thumb over Eli’s bottom lip.
“No, I’ve just never been in that kind of relationship before. I’ve always wondered what it would
be like though. Mostly, I’ve been curious as how it would be with you.”
Blake knew then for sure that there’d be no turning back. Now that Eli had agreed to his rules,
Blake was powerless to stop things from progressing. Fuck, who was he kidding? He’d been
powerless from the day Eli had come in for an interview. All Blake had to do was take one look at
those sweet, innocent baby blue eyes and he’d been a goner. “If you ever want to discontinue what
we’re doing or if you need a break, just say stop. Nod, if you understand.”
Eli nodded, a small whimper coming from him.
Blake allowed his gaze to fall to the man’s fly. Even through the material of his dress pants, the
bulge of his erection stood quite evident. Oh yeah, Eli would be perfect at this.
Blake moved around so he could lean across his desk. Crossing his arms over his chest, he issued
his next order, “Strip off your clothes, then come over and kneel at my feet.”
Another whimper escaped past Eli’s tightly pressed lips before he began to obey, his movements
slightly jerky. Each article that dropped away to reveal a new piece of naked flesh amped Blake’s
arousal more.
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Once he had all his clothes off and every inch of Eli’s tight body was displayed, the sexual tension
felt nearly palpable. A slight blush covered Eli’s skin as he ducked his head in a self-conscious
gesture.
“You’re fucking gorgeous,” Blake said, knowing the man needed some praise.
Eli lifted his head, his eyes rounded in shock. “No, I’m not. I know that I’m too skinny.”
“Are you calling me a liar?” Blake demanded sternly.
“I wouldn’t do that, sir,” Eli rushed as he shook his head so vehemently he was in danger of
getting whiplash.
“Then we’re both in agreement. Your body is perfect.”
For a moment, it looked as if Eli would argue, but in the end, he pressed his mouth together and
nodded. Blake crooked a finger and Eli obeyed, moving slowly forward until they were inches apart.
He gave Blake one more glance, his eyes filled with both passion and a bit of uncertainty before
dropping to his knees.
It wasn’t the most graceful movement Blake had seen by any stretch, but the fact that it was Eli
doing it more than sufficed. Then when he stared up, his face so innocent and filled with longing,
Blake couldn’t hold back the soft moan that slipped from his mouth.
Eli stared at Blake’s fly before looking back up, his expression clearly begging for permission.
Blake made him wait for several seconds, to let him know who truly was in charge of the encounter,
before finally nodding his permission. Eli lifted trembling fingers and undid Blake’s pants. He
lowered the trousers and briefs just enough for Blake’s cock to spring free.
“Now this is gorgeous,” Eli whispered as he ran his thumb over the tip. Gathering up a few drops
of pre-cum, he lifted his digit to his mouth and licked it clean.
Blake tracked the way Eli’s sweet tongue darted and finally had enough. With a low growl, he
cupped the back of the man’s head and urged him forward. Eli took the hint, his lips parting to take
in Blake’s cock.
At first, Eli gagged a bit, but he soon adjusted and got into the game. He even took the initiative
to splay his fingers over Blake’s thighs. Hungry noises emitted from Eli as he licked and sucked.
Blake kept his hand in place, threading his fingers through Eli’s soft hair.
Damn, Eli sure knew his way around a cock. Aside from the first gag, he sucked Blake off with
impressive skill. He somehow managed to keep up the pressure so the waves of pleasure rolled
over Blake in slow, easy passes. Through it all, Eli would occasionally glance up from under his
lashes, as if seeking reassurance.
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“It’s fantastic,” Blake praised. As soon as he saw the glow pass over Eli’s face from being
complimented, Blake knew for sure he’d made the right choice. Yes, Eli and he would work perfectly
together. He trailed his fingers down Eli’s temple and added, “More than fantastic, it’s the best I’ve
ever received.”
Eli smiled around Blake’s cock and began to suck in earnest, his cheeks hollowing out. Blake
allowed it to continue a few moments, just until he was on the verge of coming before he curled his
fingers into Eli’s hair and pulled him back. “Enough.”
A frustrated whimper came from Eli before he asked, “Why?”
“Because when I come, it’s going to be in that tight ass that’s been tempting me for so long. Stand
up.”
After running a hand over his swollen lips, Eli obeyed, his legs trembling slightly. Blake left him
standing there. Never taking his gaze off the naked man, Blake went around to the back of his desk
and pulled out a condom and small tube of lube from the top drawer. Slamming them down, so
there could be no way Eli would miss them, Blake went back around and stood behind Eli.
“Bend over my desk and hang on,” Blake whispered in Eli’s ears.
The speed at which Eli moved to obey would have been laughable in another situation. Blake
took a moment to admire the way Eli looked, all stretched out over the oak, his ass exposed and
almost begging to be taken. Blake stroked a finger down Eli’s spine, one of his favorite fantasies
springing to his mind.
“You know what I’d like to see most?” he asked, as he decided to share it with Eli. At the same
moment, he grabbed the lube and squeezed a liberal amount into his hand.
“No,” Eli’s voice hitched when Blake used a finger to circle his hole.
“Leather covering this beautiful skin.” Blake used his free hand to trace an X along Eli’s back to
signify where he wanted it to be.
“Wouldn’t the others in the office be a bit put off if I run around in fetish gear?” Eli’s last words
came out as a moan as his ass became penetrated by one of Blake’s fingers.
“You can wear in under your shirt and only allow me to see it. Just like you can start keeping a
pair of handcuffs in your pocket, so they’re always available for me to use on you.” Blake added a
second finger, marveling at the visceral reaction the added pressure earned from Eli. The man held
nothing back.
“Okay, it that’s what you want, sir, I’ll go out and buy it first thing in the morning.”
Blake curled his fingers so he could peg Eli’s sweet spot. “I don’t think the store will be open
tomorrow since its Christmas.”
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Eli cried out in pleasure as Blake hit his prostate again. “Fine, then the day after tomorrow. I
promise.”
Blake moved his hand, slicked on the condom, then lined the tip of his cock up to Eli’s entrance.
“Who says I’ll be willing to let you out of my bedroom that soon?”
He slowly pressed in, a moan ripping from his throat at the tight, warm grip. Damn, this was so
much better than he’d dreamed.
Eli curled his fingers against the wood as he hissed in pleasure. “Your bedroom?”
“Yes, I’m taking you home with me tonight and I don’t plan on you leaving my presence any time
soon.” Blake didn’t have a holiday celebration to attend the next day and he knew Eli didn’t either,
so what better way to spend the twenty-fifth than with his dick buried deep inside Eli’s ass.
“Oh, God,” Eli breathed, although Blake didn’t know if it were from his declaration or the fact that
he’d started to really give the man a hard fucking.
Eli let out keening sounds, his fingers clawing at the desktop. With the way his lips parted
slightly, a deep flush covering his cheeks, he couldn’t have been sexier. Blake felt a heady sense of
power, knowing that could do anything to Eli and the younger man would allow it. Hell, Eli would
probably get down on his knees and beg if asked. Along with that power came the overwhelming
urge to also make sure Eli was protected and cared for.
Blake could sense his orgasm peaking, but he didn’t want to give himself pleasure until his sub
found it first. Running a hand down Eli’s sweat covered back, Blake said, “Come for me.”
Those must have been the words Eli had been waiting for because after a couple more thrusts,
he cried out Blake’s name, then shot off, his spunk covering the desk and carpet. The walls of his ass
squeezed Blake’s cock and that forced him over the edge, too. Digging his fingers into Eli’s skin,
Blake threw his head back as he filled the condom.
For a few breaths, Blake didn’t move, too content to ride out the high. Then he let out a sigh and
rested his forehead on the nape of Eli’s neck. If Eli felt squashed by the added weight, he didn’t
complain, quite the opposite, he let out a happy sigh.
“That was amazing, sir,” Eli offered in a hesitant voice.
“I’m glad you liked it. Consider it an added holiday bonus,” Blake teased.
Eli paused, before venturing, “Is this bonus the same as the magazine one?”
Blake smiled against Eli’s flesh. “Is that your backhanded way of asking if this thing between us
is going to last more than a few days?”
“Perhaps.”
“Would it make you happy if I said yes?”
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“More than anything, sir,” the heartfelt tone in Eli’s voice made Blake smile wider.
He pressed a kiss to Eli’s neck. “Yes, this gift will also keep on giving. Now that I’ve had you, I
know I’d be a damn fool to let you go.
minutes left until his shift ended. His hands balled up into fists,
the move almost unconscious as he shifted in his plush office
chair. The laptop in front of him let out a low hum as the fan
kicked on, but he mostly ignored it. Who could think of
something as mundane as numbers and stock reports on a day
like today?
The distraction wasn’t due to the fact that it was Christmas Eve. Nor did it have anything to do
with the threat of a heavy snowstorm that was due to blow in at any moment. While those two
things had the potential to be annoying at best, they didn’t account for his nerves and near panic.
No, it had everything to do with the man in the next office. The hottest, sexiest son of a bitch in Ohio,
if not the entire United States.
On its own accord, Eli’s gaze drifted to the closed door that separated their desks. Since his boss
was well…the boss, he had one of those plaques on his door that had his name engraved on it. He
swallowed hard as his lips silently formed said name, Blake Weatherston.
Even with the wood barrier separating them, Eli could almost see the image Mr. Weatherston
presented. With dark hair, cut into a short business cut and a steely gray-eyed gaze, he was the last
type Eli ever thought he’d fall for. Yet, he had fallen, very hard. Eli knew he’d get hurt in the crash
and burn that would no doubt be the end result of his child-like crush.
That still didn’t prevent Eli from indulging in numerous fantasies, however. All of them had the
same theme, too--of him on his knees in front of Mr. Weatherston, head bowed, read to follow any
order given.
A groan slipped past Eli’s lips as another scenario sprang into his lust-filled head--this one
playing out with him nude, tied face down on a bed and waiting in eager anticipation for Mr.
A very handsome man stands
in front of a closet wearing an
expensive tailored suit. The
dress shirt is open to reveal a
leather S&M harness
underneath and a pair of
silver handcuffs hanging from
his belt.
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Weatherston to do something…anything that would either result in pleasure or the most exquisite
pain.
Eli let out a low curse as he rubbed the heel of his hand against his hard cock. Great, just what he
needed, to spring another woody while on the clock. His only silver lining was that he’d been the
only employee who’d come in on the holiday.
The rest of the staff couldn’t understand why he’d willingly come in on Christmas Eve. He just
shrugged it off before mumbling something about needing the overtime. No way in hell would he
admit that he couldn’t stand being away from their aloof, stern employer. While everyone else
looked forward to the weekend, Eli cursed them.
He dropped his head to the desk, a sigh of self-disgust brushing against his lips. How much more
of a loser he could be? Here his crush had developed to near stalker status when Mr. Weatherston
never bothered to glance twice at him unless it was to issue an order. Not the good kind of orders
either, but ones that had to do with paperwork or clients.
The computer pinged, letting him know he had a new email message. Since he didn’t want to
deal with the mounting pile of forms and paperwork that awaited him, he decided to check out the
message. In truth, the email both confused and intrigued him since nobody else was at work. It
could be a client, but he doubted that even they would be out and working when they had
celebrations to attend. Not everyone had just an empty apartment and microwave dinner to keep
them company. Normal people had families and friends.
He clicked on his inbox and frowned when he saw it came from Mr. Weatherston. Opening it, he
frowned even further as he scanned the note, Come to my office, now. The message was curt and
cold, just like Mr. Weatherston’s personality. In the three months he’d worked there, Eli didn’t think
he’d seen his boss smile once, not even when one of the receptionists, Renee, brought in her new
baby. Who couldn’t break out a smile for an infant? It brought hardass to a whole new level.
That still didn’t stop Eli from fantasizing about the man though. If anything it made him want
him more. He wasted countless hours thinking of unique and imaginative ways he could finally earn
a smile of approval from Mr. Weatherston. Just one, that’s all Eli would need. Hell, there didn’t have
to be any teeth behind it. He’d be willing to take a tight-lipped Mona Lisa number, just so long as he
knew that he’d pleased the guy.
Eli’s computer pinged again. Somehow the noise carried a sharp edge of annoyance. Even before
he clicked the refresh button, he knew it would be from Mr. Weatherston. He swallowed against a
dry throat as his gaze drifted over the new message, this one even shorter than its predecessor. I
said, now!
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He rubbed the palms of his hands over his coal-colored dress slacks as he darted a look at the
door. Heart pounding in fear and just maybe a bit of arousal, Eli forced himself to stand and move to
the door.
With every step he took closer, his chest grew tighter and more anxiety churned in his gut. He
chided himself for having such a stupid reaction. The boss probably just needed help with the new
computer program again. Ever since corporate switched to a new system, Mr. Weatherston had
been yelling out questions to his personal assistant at a nearly hourly base. He must have turned to
Eli out of desperation since they were the only ones present.
He swallowed hard once more as he raised his hand and gave a short, hard knock. As he waited
for a response, he clenched his hands into fists, silently cursing himself as he realized they were
empty. He should have brought along a pad of paper in case he had to take notes or something.
Stupid! How many times do you think you’ll be able to fuck up before they kick your sorry ass to the
street?
Before he could berate himself any longer, Mr. Weatherston called, “It’s about time. Get in here.”
Eeep…not exactly how he’d hoped the conversation would start, but it wasn’t like Eli could turn
tail and bolt now. Not unless he wanted to start off the new year collecting unemployment. He took
in a deep breath before he turned the handle.
Mr. Weatherston barely looked up from his computer as Eli entered. That was okay though, since
it gave Eli a chance to really study his boss. Even seated behind his massive, oak desk, Mr.
Weatherston still managed to look dominating and like a fuck-me-please dream come true. His
normally carefully groomed, dark hair had a small cowlick in the front, like one would get tugging at
in frustration or something. He’d taken off his suit coat and loosened his red tie, plus the top few
buttons of his black dress shirt were undone, but that didn’t make him any more approachable.
More uneasy than ever, Eli shuffled forward another couple steps. He deliberately left the door
slightly open. While the idea of being trapped by Mr. Weatherston may send a thrill through Eli that
went straight to his cock, he didn’t have any aspirations to their conversation would last more than
a few seconds.
When several tense beats passed and the boss didn’t say anything, Eli nervously cleared his
throat. “You wanted to see me, sir?”
That got Mr. Weatherston’s attention, but not in the way Eli wanted. He glared up from his work,
his full sensual lips pressed into a disapproving line. “Don’t speak unless I give you permission.”
Eli blinked a few times, the words hitting him like a slap to the nose. He felt as if he’d just been a
puppy reprimanded for barking at the mailman or something. A rush of anger went over him.
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Unfortunately so did a wave of desire. Great, just what he needed to finish off this craptastic day, to
spring an erection in front of his boss. He could almost hear how he’d have to explain that one away
to the unemployment office.
“How did you lose your last job?”
“Well, you see my penis couldn’t control itself and decided to stand up and be noticed while I was in
my employer’s office. Oops, my bad.”
The silence continued to stretch and Eli fought the urge to shift nervously on the balls of his feet.
Why in the hell didn’t Mr. Weatherston just tell him what he wanted? Surely he didn’t call Eli in here
just so he could watch his boss working on the computer. If so, it seemed like a damn waste of his
time and since Mr. Weatherston was the one who signed Eli’s paychecks, he should care about that
more than anyone.
Just when Eli felt ready to crawl out of his skin, Mr. Weatherston turned and gave Eli a smile. An
actual frigging smile! Eli’s lips parted slightly in shock and he had to hold back a gasp of surprise.
“I’m glad to see you can follow direction. It lets me see that you have potential,” Mr. Weatherston
said as he slowly rose to his feet.
Warmth pooled in Eli’s stomach at the praise. If he had been that reprimanded puppy, his tail
would have been wagging in anticipation. He opened his mouth to shoot off a thank you, but quickly
clamped it shut again when he realized he didn’t have permission to speak.
Mr. Weatherston walked past Eli, their bodies so close together that Eli could smell the
expensive cologne the man wore. A mix of sandalwood and musk, it never failed to set Eli’s libido
off. While he wanted to turn his head in order to drink in more of the scent, something told him that
any movement on his part wouldn’t be welcomed. Not unless it was under Mr. Weatherston’s
orders.
* * * *
Blake bit back a moan as he watched the younger man struggle to obey his commands. The short,
hesitant way he moved screamed his inexperience. Yet, Eli still seemed so eager to please…to
submit. Blake forced back another smile as he relished the thought of finally being able to have
some alone time with his newest employee.
Eli lowered his blue-eyed gaze to the ground, his plump lips slightly parted as he took in sharp
breaths. While Blake knew the man styled his short, dark hair into a faux hawk off hours, while at
the office, he kept in a more conservative style, only spiking the very front slightly. He wore a suit
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that didn’t appear expensive, but still managed to fit his thin build to perfection. The tie was tight
and perfectly knotted, just as Blake had come to expect from his employee. Eli always strived to be
the best worker, the neatest dressed, the most efficient at office procedure, in other words, a damn
perfectionist. It was trait that both impressed and annoyed Blake.
Truthfully, Eli should be off limits. Blake was his boss and the other man was ten years, two
months and thirteen days younger. Ever since Blake first laid eyes on the too-hot-for-his-own-good
brat, he’d been fighting the attraction that he knew went both ways. Blake had been doing a good
job of keeping his distance, too, until two things happened.
Number one may not have been enough to have pushed Blake over the edge. Eli had gone on a
few dates with one of the guys from the next office over. While it had created tinge of jealously,
Blake only had to take one glance at the pathetic loser to know he’d never last with Eli. Even from
across the parking garage, Blake could tell the man would be too soft and easy for Eli to manipulate.
Even in the short time Blake had known Eli, he realized the younger man yearned for someone
stronger and in control.
Still, if that had been the only issue, then Blake would have been okay. He could deal with a little
bit of jealously--not that he felt proud of his moment of weakness, but he would have gotten over it.
Then, just as he thought he had a handle on the situation, he got slapped with problem number
two—he had to work all day with Eli, the two of them alone.
Blake realized immediately there would be no way in hell he could be around that sweet
temptation all day and not give into his urge to sample just a little bite. Now that he actually had Eli
in his office and at his mercy, Blake also knew that neither of them would be leaving any time soon,
nor would there be any more work getting done.
He pushed the door the office closed, biting back another smile as he noticed Eli tracking the
movement. Eli even licked his lips a few times in a nervous gesture. He didn’t break and speak,
however, and for that, Blake was willing to give a small reward.
“Did you enjoy your holiday bonus?” Blake asked as he moved in behind Eli.
Eli nodded, but didn’t turn around. “Yes, Mr. Weatherston. I especially liked how you gave us a
magazine subscription in addition to a check. So every month now, I’ll get a new magazine. It’s like a
gift that keeps on giving. I’ve always been fond of that kind of present.”
Blake smiled at Eli’s babbling answer. “Why don’t you call me Blake?”
“Sir?” Eli turned his head slightly in Blake’s direction. The way Eli’s brow furrowed in confusion
could only be called cute.
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“You can call me that, too. In fact, sir would work much better in certain circumstances. Just not
Mr. Weatherston. It’s too formal.”
“I don’t understand,” Eli replied in a small voice.
“I’m not going to be coy. I want you and by the fuck-me looks you’ve been shooting my way, I
would say that you want me, too.” He ran the back of his fingers along Eli’s cheek, relishing the
shiver he earned in response. “Unless I’m mistaken. If I am, then just tell me. I won’t force you to do
anything you don’t want to and if you say no, it won’t mean you’ll lose your job either.”
Eli’s closed his eyes as he took in a shuddering breath. When his lids opened again, Blake’s cock
jerked in response when saw the arousal darkening the man’s gaze.
“I want it very much, Mr. Wea…sir.”
“Good boy,” Blake praise as he caressed Eli’s cheek once more. “There’s one more thing you
should know though. If we do this, I’m in charge. While I’ll never do anything that you don’t want, I
still call the shots.”
A tiny smile passed over Eli’s lips. “In other words, you’re still the boss.”
Blake cupped Eli’s chin and forced him to lock gazes. “More than that, I’ll also be there to protect
you and to guide you. Do you understand what that means?”
“I think so,” Eli hedged. “You want to be my dominant.”
“Yes, does that make you uncomfortable?” Blake ran the pad of his thumb over Eli’s bottom lip.
“No, I’ve just never been in that kind of relationship before. I’ve always wondered what it would
be like though. Mostly, I’ve been curious as how it would be with you.”
Blake knew then for sure that there’d be no turning back. Now that Eli had agreed to his rules,
Blake was powerless to stop things from progressing. Fuck, who was he kidding? He’d been
powerless from the day Eli had come in for an interview. All Blake had to do was take one look at
those sweet, innocent baby blue eyes and he’d been a goner. “If you ever want to discontinue what
we’re doing or if you need a break, just say stop. Nod, if you understand.”
Eli nodded, a small whimper coming from him.
Blake allowed his gaze to fall to the man’s fly. Even through the material of his dress pants, the
bulge of his erection stood quite evident. Oh yeah, Eli would be perfect at this.
Blake moved around so he could lean across his desk. Crossing his arms over his chest, he issued
his next order, “Strip off your clothes, then come over and kneel at my feet.”
Another whimper escaped past Eli’s tightly pressed lips before he began to obey, his movements
slightly jerky. Each article that dropped away to reveal a new piece of naked flesh amped Blake’s
arousal more.
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Once he had all his clothes off and every inch of Eli’s tight body was displayed, the sexual tension
felt nearly palpable. A slight blush covered Eli’s skin as he ducked his head in a self-conscious
gesture.
“You’re fucking gorgeous,” Blake said, knowing the man needed some praise.
Eli lifted his head, his eyes rounded in shock. “No, I’m not. I know that I’m too skinny.”
“Are you calling me a liar?” Blake demanded sternly.
“I wouldn’t do that, sir,” Eli rushed as he shook his head so vehemently he was in danger of
getting whiplash.
“Then we’re both in agreement. Your body is perfect.”
For a moment, it looked as if Eli would argue, but in the end, he pressed his mouth together and
nodded. Blake crooked a finger and Eli obeyed, moving slowly forward until they were inches apart.
He gave Blake one more glance, his eyes filled with both passion and a bit of uncertainty before
dropping to his knees.
It wasn’t the most graceful movement Blake had seen by any stretch, but the fact that it was Eli
doing it more than sufficed. Then when he stared up, his face so innocent and filled with longing,
Blake couldn’t hold back the soft moan that slipped from his mouth.
Eli stared at Blake’s fly before looking back up, his expression clearly begging for permission.
Blake made him wait for several seconds, to let him know who truly was in charge of the encounter,
before finally nodding his permission. Eli lifted trembling fingers and undid Blake’s pants. He
lowered the trousers and briefs just enough for Blake’s cock to spring free.
“Now this is gorgeous,” Eli whispered as he ran his thumb over the tip. Gathering up a few drops
of pre-cum, he lifted his digit to his mouth and licked it clean.
Blake tracked the way Eli’s sweet tongue darted and finally had enough. With a low growl, he
cupped the back of the man’s head and urged him forward. Eli took the hint, his lips parting to take
in Blake’s cock.
At first, Eli gagged a bit, but he soon adjusted and got into the game. He even took the initiative
to splay his fingers over Blake’s thighs. Hungry noises emitted from Eli as he licked and sucked.
Blake kept his hand in place, threading his fingers through Eli’s soft hair.
Damn, Eli sure knew his way around a cock. Aside from the first gag, he sucked Blake off with
impressive skill. He somehow managed to keep up the pressure so the waves of pleasure rolled
over Blake in slow, easy passes. Through it all, Eli would occasionally glance up from under his
lashes, as if seeking reassurance.
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“It’s fantastic,” Blake praised. As soon as he saw the glow pass over Eli’s face from being
complimented, Blake knew for sure he’d made the right choice. Yes, Eli and he would work perfectly
together. He trailed his fingers down Eli’s temple and added, “More than fantastic, it’s the best I’ve
ever received.”
Eli smiled around Blake’s cock and began to suck in earnest, his cheeks hollowing out. Blake
allowed it to continue a few moments, just until he was on the verge of coming before he curled his
fingers into Eli’s hair and pulled him back. “Enough.”
A frustrated whimper came from Eli before he asked, “Why?”
“Because when I come, it’s going to be in that tight ass that’s been tempting me for so long. Stand
up.”
After running a hand over his swollen lips, Eli obeyed, his legs trembling slightly. Blake left him
standing there. Never taking his gaze off the naked man, Blake went around to the back of his desk
and pulled out a condom and small tube of lube from the top drawer. Slamming them down, so
there could be no way Eli would miss them, Blake went back around and stood behind Eli.
“Bend over my desk and hang on,” Blake whispered in Eli’s ears.
The speed at which Eli moved to obey would have been laughable in another situation. Blake
took a moment to admire the way Eli looked, all stretched out over the oak, his ass exposed and
almost begging to be taken. Blake stroked a finger down Eli’s spine, one of his favorite fantasies
springing to his mind.
“You know what I’d like to see most?” he asked, as he decided to share it with Eli. At the same
moment, he grabbed the lube and squeezed a liberal amount into his hand.
“No,” Eli’s voice hitched when Blake used a finger to circle his hole.
“Leather covering this beautiful skin.” Blake used his free hand to trace an X along Eli’s back to
signify where he wanted it to be.
“Wouldn’t the others in the office be a bit put off if I run around in fetish gear?” Eli’s last words
came out as a moan as his ass became penetrated by one of Blake’s fingers.
“You can wear in under your shirt and only allow me to see it. Just like you can start keeping a
pair of handcuffs in your pocket, so they’re always available for me to use on you.” Blake added a
second finger, marveling at the visceral reaction the added pressure earned from Eli. The man held
nothing back.
“Okay, it that’s what you want, sir, I’ll go out and buy it first thing in the morning.”
Blake curled his fingers so he could peg Eli’s sweet spot. “I don’t think the store will be open
tomorrow since its Christmas.”
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Eli cried out in pleasure as Blake hit his prostate again. “Fine, then the day after tomorrow. I
promise.”
Blake moved his hand, slicked on the condom, then lined the tip of his cock up to Eli’s entrance.
“Who says I’ll be willing to let you out of my bedroom that soon?”
He slowly pressed in, a moan ripping from his throat at the tight, warm grip. Damn, this was so
much better than he’d dreamed.
Eli curled his fingers against the wood as he hissed in pleasure. “Your bedroom?”
“Yes, I’m taking you home with me tonight and I don’t plan on you leaving my presence any time
soon.” Blake didn’t have a holiday celebration to attend the next day and he knew Eli didn’t either,
so what better way to spend the twenty-fifth than with his dick buried deep inside Eli’s ass.
“Oh, God,” Eli breathed, although Blake didn’t know if it were from his declaration or the fact that
he’d started to really give the man a hard fucking.
Eli let out keening sounds, his fingers clawing at the desktop. With the way his lips parted
slightly, a deep flush covering his cheeks, he couldn’t have been sexier. Blake felt a heady sense of
power, knowing that could do anything to Eli and the younger man would allow it. Hell, Eli would
probably get down on his knees and beg if asked. Along with that power came the overwhelming
urge to also make sure Eli was protected and cared for.
Blake could sense his orgasm peaking, but he didn’t want to give himself pleasure until his sub
found it first. Running a hand down Eli’s sweat covered back, Blake said, “Come for me.”
Those must have been the words Eli had been waiting for because after a couple more thrusts,
he cried out Blake’s name, then shot off, his spunk covering the desk and carpet. The walls of his ass
squeezed Blake’s cock and that forced him over the edge, too. Digging his fingers into Eli’s skin,
Blake threw his head back as he filled the condom.
For a few breaths, Blake didn’t move, too content to ride out the high. Then he let out a sigh and
rested his forehead on the nape of Eli’s neck. If Eli felt squashed by the added weight, he didn’t
complain, quite the opposite, he let out a happy sigh.
“That was amazing, sir,” Eli offered in a hesitant voice.
“I’m glad you liked it. Consider it an added holiday bonus,” Blake teased.
Eli paused, before venturing, “Is this bonus the same as the magazine one?”
Blake smiled against Eli’s flesh. “Is that your backhanded way of asking if this thing between us
is going to last more than a few days?”
“Perhaps.”
“Would it make you happy if I said yes?”
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“More than anything, sir,” the heartfelt tone in Eli’s voice made Blake smile wider.
He pressed a kiss to Eli’s neck. “Yes, this gift will also keep on giving. Now that I’ve had you, I
know I’d be a damn fool to let you go.
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