by Abel N. Willing
(No, actually by Darklady)
Disclaimer: None actually. This *IS* my story, I *DO* own the characters - at least 99%- and anyone responsible for the last 1% probably has more pride then to confess it. So copyright stays with me.
This is a story in the style and form of the early `chapter plays' - better known as the Movie Serial - and their spiritual and functional descendants, the RKO `B' features.
Minor references are made to various `B' movies. As this work is officially one of satire, I consider all such references to fall within the doctrine of `fair use'.
Warnings?: YES! In fact, better make that HELL YES! (By now my name should be warning enough, but just in case you were looking for the list `Children's Bible Stories' and ended up here by mistake? Be afraid. Be VERY afraid.)
Rated: Overall NC-17. Individual chapters may vary. Including, but not limited to, slash, het, fem, furry, non-con, and anything else my evil imagination can come up with. This includes mild possible underage. I will not guarantee individual chapter warnings, so if you CAN be squicked, figure that you will be. Everyone else just sit down, hold on, and try to enjoy the ride.
Archive: To the archives of the lists I post it to. CKoS, WWOMB, and whatever Rareslash feeds to. All others please ask. (My answer is always yes, but sometimes I have corrected versions.)
Posting note: This is a chapter play. In other words, a movie serial. In keeping with the tradition, I plan to post one chapter a week until the story is done.
Second note: While the overall plot is set - and I *do* have the ending written - there is still plenty of `adventure' space available. So... if there is any pairing or event you think belongs here - or any particular `B' movie that deserves this *ahhem* `tribute' - let me know. Evil ideas are always welcome.
Third note: This is set back in the 1930's, and is part of the `Hardstaff Chronicles' - for those with a continuity bent.
Oh - and just for the lawyers: cKKR, 2001
Plan 8 from Outer Space
by Darklady
Chapter 1: Alien Observers
The brown-haired male made his way though the gray corridors leading to the heart of the Chastrin ship, pausing only when he reached the iron-studded door that lead to the control room. There, standing guard, was a young woman in the same uniform that he wore. For a moment, Erros allowed himself to consider how much more flattering the tight pants and thin satin looked on someone younger - and female - and with a full head of hair. No matter. The uniform was not designed to be attractive. Merely efficient. Besides, if all went well, he would soon be wearing the far more flattering velvet tabbard of full Fleet Commander. And she? He suppressed a smile at the thought. She might be wearing something... less... altogether.
Spotting his approach, the woman snapped to full attention, folding her fists across her chest in the formal salute due to a superior officer.
"Hail Erros."
"Hail, Tanna."
He returned the salute, thus permitting her to again lower her arms. Not that the respect of a lower officer was not ... enjoyable... but in her case it did tend to rather take from the scenery.
"What news do you bring, Erros?"
"Dark news. Force Commander Proctos has been force back from his arctic base. His ships have been ordered back to Chastitia."
Her face did not change, but Erros could see Tanna's eyes wince slightly at the news. She had known Proctos, and she also knew the `welcome' that would surely await him and his failed forces.
"Seven times our plans for conquest have failed," Tanna said, voice carefully neutral. "We too shall be punished if we return to our planet in disgrace."
Erros nodded. "Then this time we must not fail. The earthlings must fall before our power, and quickly."
"But how?" she asked, unable to completely suppress her curiosity. "The leader has recalled all but four of our ships. We do not have the weapons to conquer even once of their `countries' - much less the entire planet."
"If we can not use force, then we must use guile. Surely we, the products of a scientific and logical star-faring civilization, must be more clever then these land-bound primates."
"You have a plan?"
Erros allowed himself a small smile. "Would I trouble his Excellency without a plan? Do you remember what we spoke of last week?"
"Certainly! Do you think it is time?"
"There will never be a better time."
Tanna stepped away from he door. "I believe in you, Eros."
"Thank you, Tanna." Erros pulled slightly on the hem of his satin shirt, smoothing the small bulge that had crept over his elaborate belt, before stepping through the now-open door. "Take me to our leader.
...~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ... ~ooooOOOOoooo~...
Balding and wrinkled, Fleet Commander Farttoz had the thin-faced countenance of a bookkeeper - or indeed of any less-then-successful `civil servant'. Despite his general lankiness, he bore a pot-belly that not even his elaborate wide belt or the loose surcotte of his rank could hide completely.
"Come."
Both Erros and Tanna snapped to attention before his Excellency's desk.
"Report."
"Excellency. I ask permission to use my three ships in an effort to capture the planet Earth."
Farttoz managed to give the impression that his clearly empty desktop was somehow cluttered with endless papers all vastly more interesting and important then whichever unfortunate underling happened to be addressing him at the time.
"What plan will you use this time, Erros?" He accompanied the question with an arm-wave that was close enough to be taken as a returned salute if one wished - which both Erros and Tanna did. The formal salute was not particularly comfortable.
"Plan Eight, Excellency," Erros answered.
"That would be the Copulatronic Ray." Farttoz pulled put his writing stylus and rolled it between his fingers. "I was under the impression that that was still an experimental device. Will it have enough strength to overcome the natural inhibitions of these Earth creatures?"
"Spaceman Tanna has found a way to link the Orgasmitron to the Vibrational Shafts. This should give our ray the thrust to penetrate even the tightest mental shield."
"Interesting." Farttoz flipped the stylus up, catching is by it's tip. "I assume you have prepared a test?"
"Yes, Excellency." Erros stepped over to the auxiliary controls as Tanna warmed up the Electro-Viewscreen.
"Tanna" Erros commanded. "Focus the Electro-Viewscreen on the park area below."
She twisted a few dials, and an aerial shot of the well known recreational area appeared on the wall-screen.
"Excellency." Erros began. "This is the recreational area known as Griffith Park. It is a location of innocent amusement for young earthlings. "
"Eros." Tanna shifted a lever, and the focus of the screen moved closer to the ground. "I have isolated two of the earthmen entering a secluded area."
"Fine, healthy test subjects." Erros agreed.
The viewpoint dropped lower to focus on two boys (or rather young men, for they were apparently in their early teens) strolling along a narrow dirt path. From their clothing, the lads were determined to emulate the `cowboy hero' Gene Autry and his ilk, for one wore a broad brimmed hat while the other had a bandana tied around his forehead to shield his eyes from the morning glare. Around their narrow hips hung belts and holsters of elaborately decorated leather.
"They are armed?" Farttoz asked.
"Water pistols, Excellency." Erros answered. "Mere toys."
Tanna moved the focus closer, allowing the Electro-Viewscreen to pick up the lads voices.
"Gee, Timmy. I don't see why you always have to be the Lone Ranger," one boy was insisting.
His blond friend pulled put his water-pistol and splattered his friend on the shoulder. "Because I have the white hat, Joey."
"My shirt!" The dark haired boy rubbed angrily at the spreading damp.
"Sorry, I..."
"Watch what happens when we focus the ray on them."
Erros pushed a button, and a hypnotically pulsing light flashed in pink and blue waves over the unsuspecting figures below.
The boy with the damp shirt suddenly froze. When he resumed rubbing, a second later, it was not at this shoulder. Rather his hand moved down and in, stroking flat palmed over his suddenly hard nipple.
"... got your shirt wet," the blond boy continued in a suddenly-sultry voice. "Let me help you out of it." He brushed his friends fingers aside, only to replace them with his own as soon as the interfering cloth had been moved away. "Hot. So hot."
"Hot?" Joey gasped out the word as hungry lips clamped down on his chest. "You don't need that shirt." With quick fingers he disposed on his friends garment. "Or pants."
"Want..." Timmy moaned before locking arms around his friends shoulders and pulling the other boy down on top of himself.
Within seconds both young men were naked and panting, rolling on the pathway atop a scattering of discarded clothing. Timmy had his lips locked onto Joey's shoulder , while Joey in turn had a bruising grip on Timmy's ass.
"Full power, Tanna." Erros ordered.
The light pulsed again, and both boys groaned.
Joey licked his finger then eased it deep into the guarded opening between the firm cheeks he had been holding. "Want.."
Timmy pressed back, impaling himself impatiently first on one digit, then on two. Each thrust brought a moan, and each moan an answering stroke from Joey.
"Want... you." With a clearly massive act of willpower, Joey pulled his fingers back and rolled out from beneath his friends eager hands. "Want to... mount you."
Timmy rolled over onto his elbows and knees, presenting his backside with a wiggle. "Ride `em, cowboy!"
That was an offer to tempting to resist. Mindlessly Joey pulled himself up between his friend's legs, nudging the blond boy's knees further apart as he licked slowly down the narrow crease that concealed the still-tight entrance. Giving the puckered hole one last rub, Joey centered his cock, and drove into the offered flesh with a single massive surge.
Timmy half-screamed, half- whinnied and bucked back, the shock of penetration mixing with his ray-induced lust.
Joey clamped his hands on Timmy's cock, pulled back, then drove in again until he was buried balls-deep in his friends up-til-then virgin back passage. "Gittieup!"
Timmy twisted and shook beneath the force of Joey's strokes, torn between the burning pleasure-pain of the thick organ opening his ass and the intoxicating rush of the hard fingers wrapped around his shaft. Forward and back the blond boy rocked, moaning as his passions grew hotter, all thought except those of sexual pleasure totally lost in the lustful haze of the alien ray.
Joey alternated strokes with flat-palmed slaps, encouraging Timmy to wilder and wilder motion. "Buck me, boy! Buck me!"
Timmy answered with whinnies and moans, twisting himself around and up to claim the full force and length of every wild push. His butt cheeks twitched, clamping together to squeeze ever-more -fiercely around the manly rod that filled him.
"Ye ha!" Joey cried, snatching up his friend's hat and tossing it into the air as both boys came hard.
"As you can see, Excellency." Erros said, turning off the sound on the Electro-Viewscreen. "The potential for... distraction.. is nearly infinite. And while the earthlings are distracted - we shall move into power."
"This will work on the entire planet?"
Erros took a step back. "Not yet, Excellency. The test ray can command only a single gathering, and for only a few minutes. The will of the earth-creatures is strong, and not to be easily overcome. Our ships engines alone will not provide enough power."
"Then why do you bother me with your tests?"
"There is an artifact. The earth-creatures call it the Rod of Ra. Many ages ago it was left with one of the rulers these earthlings called Pharaohs by a visiting Volarian. The foolish Americans think it only a jeweled toy, but when united with the two sapphire spheres know as the Orbs of Osiris, it will generate more power then all the suns of Spectrus combined."
"Do you know where this Rod of Ra is?"
"Yes, Excellency." Tanna answered. "And the Ray we have now we have will aid us to retrieve it.
"Very well." Fleet Commander Farttoz stepped up to the screen, giving a last look at the two figures who had resumed energetically humping in the grove below. This time it was Joey who was on his belly, legs spread wide, fingers clutching the dirt, as Timmy thrust rhythmically into the moaning boy below him. "The earthlings are passionate in the defense of their planet. We will use that passion against them."
Chapter 2: The Rod of Ra
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Dr. Amanda Laie shook her head as she pulled a fresh white lab coat over her red silk dress."I don't see why we have to work so late at night, Dr. Putzoutski. I had a date."
"A date, Dr. Laie?" The elderly man already busy at one of the lab tables looked up from the thick stack of shipping invoices. "With one of your foolish young men who don't know a brass spittoon from a 4th Dynasty funerary urn?"
"Randolph apologized for that." Putzoutski's pretty blonde colleague reminded him firmly. "Besides, he knows a fox-trot from a box step, and that will do for now. It's not like I'm going to marry him."
"No," Putzoutski handed her an invoice and reached for the matching box. "You'll just get dinner out of him, then dump him when he gets too close."
Amanda Laie shrugged. "A girl's got to eat. Besides, he'll probably drop me first when he catches to my long hours." She accepted the first wrapped bundle, taking it to the table and opening it carefully. "And speaking of long hours - which we were - I expect ..."
"I am expecting something special in this shipment," Putzoutski cut her off. "Something I want accounted for and under lock and key *before* we leave this room."
"Something more important than this solid gold breastplate or this jeweled collar?" Amanda Laie held up the sparkling treasures.
"Far more important, and more valuable. If Dr. Wang is to be believed, it may well be the greatest discovery in Egyptology since the Black Pearls of Anubis." Putzoutski bent over, fumbling in the bottom of the crate. "Here." He pulled out a tubular package carefully wrapped in muslin and tissue paper. "The Rod of Ra. Scepter of Amanhotstuf of Middle Egypt. Symbol of the divine authority of the Rutmose Pharaohs."
He pulled the binding twine, revealing a glowing shaft of gold. It was a thing of spectacular beauty and undoubted worth. Perhaps eighteen inches long, slightly curved, it flowed in a smooth arc from its bejeweled base to it's flaring tip. A thin vein of sacred turquoise ran along the underside, merging into the polished coral globe at the head.
`Scepter, eh?' Dr. Laie thought to herself. `I'd hate to tell Wang what it looks like to me.' But that would be unprofessional, and quite unbecoming a senior staffer. Besides, an unworldly scholar like Dr. Putzoutski was doubtless seeing only the flawless ancient workmanship and unquestioned historical significance, and would be horrified at the improper humor of a junior colleague. So, pulling on cotton gloves, she carefully took the gold scepter by the two round handles at its base. "It does seem remarkably intact."
"All except for the two great sapphires Amanhotstuf, missing from the base." Putzoutski pointed to the open circles of gold which Dr. Laie had mistaken for a handle. "They were separated after Amanhotstuf's death, one going to the pharaoh of Upper Egypt, and the other to Lower Egypt."
Dr. Laie looked again at the openings. "The two sapphires must have been the size of..." she searched for a polite analogy... "pigeon's eggs. Priceless."
"And even more valuable for the power they were believed to possess." Dr. Putzoutski took back the treasure, running a careful finger down it's length. "I am still working to reclaim them, so the artifact can be displayed in its full glory. Still, even as it is now..."
"It will make a wonderful centerpiece to our new exhibit, Doctor." Laie agreed. "I'll finish here while you put it..."
A strange pink-and-blue light, seemingly coming from nowhere and everywhere, suddenly pulsed though the room.
"In me." Amanda Laie gasped, ripping off her lab coat, then her dress, leaving only her bra and gartered silk stockings. Grabbing at Dr. Putzoutski, she pulled him down with her as she fell back on the scattered pile of packing rags.
"In me, now..." Legs stretched impossibly wide, she thrust her gold-curled crotch against the jeweled rod still gripped in the stunned curators shaking hand.
"The... the Rod..." he stuttered. "You ca... can't..."
"I want it!" Dr. Laie insisted as she forced his hand down between her thighs. " I need it!"
"But... it... it is..."
A second pulse flashed over the room, and all resistance vanished. Rolling above his college, Dr. Putzoutski quickly positioned the coral tip between her lower lips."
"Oh yes!" Dr. Laie screamed as she felt the hard length of gold driven up her hungry cunt. "I love history. I crave antiquity." She pushed down, taking in more and more of the massive rod. " Open me to knowledge! Fill me with the wisdom of past cultures."
"Yes!" Putzoutski shouted, pistoning the massive gold scepter into her heated depths with one hand as he stroked himself with the other. "Feel the might of Ancient Egypt. The great force of
history!"
Turning him until his crotch was over her lips, Amanda Laie ripped open her colleges flannel trousers and pulled out his hardening cock. Come!" She ran her tong under the sensitive folds of the head. "Spill your insights! Let me taste your knowledge."
Busy with each other, the unnaturally horney pair paid no attention when the supposedly locked door to their work room suddenly burst open. Two masked men in flashy striped suits stepped through, guns out and fedora's pulled low over their foreheads.
The couple on the floor ignored then, even when the first of the two masked men stepped over them. "The Rod of Ra is here! Find it! We haven't much time!
"Holy Moly, Boss." The shorter of the two men exclaimed, staggering over the thrashing bodies as he tried to follow. "Would you look at...."
"Keep yer eye on the job!" the first man, clearly the leader, growled. "We're here to find the Rod of Ra, not to pick up pussy."
"But boss, they're..."
"Not our problem," the senior gangster finished. "Not unless you want your own ass..."
"No boss." He gave the writhing pair one last quick glance before turning his attention to the packing crates. "Eye on the job, boss." Pulling out the top bundle he tore off the wrappings to reveal a massive enameled collar."Hey" he exclaimed, waving the priceless treasure at his comrade, "Look at the gold. I bet we could get ..."
"Killed if we took anything without orders." came the quick answer. "Forget that junk. We're here for the big boss, not to to pick up souvenirs." Frustrated by the clutter of treasures he was too unschooled to recognize, the gangster reached down and grabbed the Dr. Putzoutski by the back of his still-fastened collar. "You!" He gave the elderly scholar a hard shake. "Where is the Rod of Ra?"
"Fuck!" The old man whimpered, thrashing uselessly as he struggled to get back to his action.
"You wish!"
"Boss!" the shorter thug broke in. "Look what he's doin' to her!"
"I told you to..."
"No boss, I mean *really* look!" He reached down and pulled the gold shaft out of Putzoutski's unsteady fingers. "Ain't this..."
The senior gangster froze, eyes opening as he recognized the length of sculpted gold. "That's the thing we were sent for! Good work!".
Deprived of his toy, the lust-crazed senor curator buried his tongue in this young associates aching snatch. Moaning loudly, the two scholars rolled past the gangsters and vanished under
the table.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Abandoning the writhing couple in the artifact room, the two gangsters ran swiftly back to their waiting car. As they hopped in, a third gangster - their driver -gunned the engine and shot off down the busy city street, leaving the impressive granite facade of the museum to dwindle in the rear view mirror.
"Slow down," the lead gangster said, " and you bud - take off that mask. We're just citizens now, out for a little drive."
The driver let up on the accelerator and moved into the right hand lane."Sure, boss. Whatever you say."
"Hey! Chum!" The shorter gangster tapped the driver on the shoulder with the priceless antiquity. "You wont believe what this thing we were sent for looks like."
"Woo!" the driver whistled, examining the proffered artifact in the rear-view mirror. "Those old Egyptian guys sure had a ego, to make one that big."
His friend laughed. "This things not so big! I mean, maybe compared to you it's big, but me?"
"Says you."
"Quiet, you fools!" the boss snapped. "Put that thing away! Now! Before someone sees it! That ray wont keep those museum types horney forever, and when it wears off...?
The driver nodded. "APB."
"Exactly. They wont be able to identify us, but they will recognize that thing. If we screw this one, it's gonna be *our* asses on the line."
Sobered, the second gangster rolled the shaft in an old newspaper and tucked it under the seat. "Got it, boss."
Chapter 3: Dark Light
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"Ah. At last!"
The FBI man watched with interest as Professor Ivan Putzoutski hurried across the room to greet a spectacularly handsome blond man who had just cleared the police sentry at the office door. A `Washington' agent, he had been just starting his vacation in Yellowstone when they had sent a Park Ranger out to tell him to get back in the suit and fly down to Los Angeles. That meant this caper had to be more then just a jewel robbery - however priceless and prestigious. Unfortunately, no one here was talking. Oh, they were *wordy* enough - a part of him thought that Dr. Putzoutski hadn't paused for breath in the last hour - but they weren't *saying* anything.
"Welcome. Welcome." Dr. Putzoutski was babbling to the blond man. " Sorry for the bother at the door, but the press has been all over this. It's all we can do to keep them outside the museum."
"Understandable, with the theft of such an important artifact." The blonde man turned back to collect several cases from the door guard. That maneuver gave the FBI man a good look at his well tailored suit - and a better look at the well-suited body beneath it. Whatever this man did that made him so important, it definitely didn't involve sitting at a desk full of dusty antiquities. At least not all the time. Not if those shoulders were any clue.
The FBI man observed as the newcomer nodded casually at the equally spectacular Dr. Amanda Laie, who practically beamed in return. Another clue that this man - whoever he was - was both known and admired. Intriguing. Normally he didn't welcome outside `consultants'. He believed whole heartedly in Hoover's maxim of `Agency first, and all others last - dead last'. But in this case? It might be worth finding out just what this man had to offer.
"Here. Let me." Dr. Putzoutski took the newcomer's cases and handed it to one of the police officers that were keeping themselves busy checking the list of the *un* stolen artifacts.
Ivan Putzoutski gripped the newcomer by the elbow and hurried him across the room, ignoring the numerous interested parties that apparently would have wished to speak to him. "If it were only the loss of a few artifacts, well, I would still be upset, naturally, but...
"Not this upset." The Special agent finished the sentence as the pair came to a stop before him. "What the good doctor is trying *not* to say is that, if this was just your average heist, he wouldn't need me."
Amanda Laie put her hand on the agents shoulder. "We're always grateful for your help, Agent, but in this case...?" She looked over at her colleague.
Dr. Putzoutski pulled his attention away from the blond man long enough to manage introductions. "This is Special Agent Ashton Shafter, from the FBI." He made a waving gesture, then turned. "And this is our very own Dr. Richard Long, senior fellow of the Harryhaussen Institute for Advanced Crypto-Technology."
The blond man held out his hand. "Agent Shafter." This close, the agent could also see Dr. Long's sky-blue eyes and flawlessly tanned skin. Quite the perfect `All American' - California version. If he had not been introduced by a professional title, the FBI man decided, Long could understandable have been mistaken for one of the actors or male models that occupied the west coast. Even the faint creases beside Long's eyes, the only sign of his likely-thirty years - only served to make him more attractive.
Shafter took Long's hand, noting that the palm was lightly calloused, something like a boxer's or a wrestler's, not smooth like he would have expected in a scientist. Another reason to believe this man was more than a mere `test-tube-jockey. He decided to give the scientist the benefit of the doubt. "Please, call me Ash."
Then I'm Dick." Dr. Richard Long gave the FBI man a careful inspection before adding. "Shafter, eh? Any relation to Major Richard `Rammin Dick' Queen-Shafter?"
"My grandfather." Ash Shafter smiled involuntarily at the memory of his favorite relative. "I didn't think anyone still remembered the old man."
Dick Long smiled back. "I met the Major when I was a child. He was a friend of my grandfather. In fact, I rather think I'm named after him."
"Small world."
"Tell me, Ash." Amanda Laie asked in a casual tone. "Do you have a place to stay in Los Angeles?
"The Bureau checked me into the Hi-Way Host, out on 66."
"Horrid place." She reached over to straighten Shafter's tie. "I'm sure we can find..."
"Something better, Amanda?" Long waved at one of the policeman,directing him to bring the various equipment cases over. Then he turned his attention back to Ash Shafter. "I have a house up in the Hills, just past the Observatory. You can stay with me."
"I'm not sure..." Shafter began cautiously.
"Really." Long insisted, giving the lady archaeologist a sharp look when she seemed about to protest. "I'll be delighted to have you."
"Trust Richard on that." Dr. Laie returned Long's look with interest. "He never has anyone he doesn't want."
"Nonsense, Amanda." Long responded. "I've had you... there... several times."
Wanting to cut off what looked like the first lines of a lovers spat, Agent Shafter quickly interjected, "If you're sure you don't mind having a house guest? I'd appreciate that. Hotel life wears on a man. The noise, mostly."
Dr. Long grinned. "Well, I can't promise always to keep quiet, but I can try."
Dr. Putzoutski cleared his throat loudly, getting their attention. "Agent Shafter. I'm the one who requested Dr. Long to come in on this ... peculiar occurrence. We have... discussed... what happened, and I believe he can shed some light of the peculiar events of this theft."
"Yes." Dr. Long stepped slightly back, moving to the work table. "A very special light."
Selecting the largest of his cases, Dr. Richard Long carefully cleared a space of the work table. The artifacts he handed to Dr. Laie, who tucked then away in their various drawers, while the papers were given to Dr. Putzoutski. "This is where it happened, was it not?"
"Yes. Dr. Long." Putzoutski pointed to the floor, then again under the table. "There and there."
Dr. Laie blushed slightly, but said nothing.
"Hummm." Long tapped a small glass display box. "Then this was exposed. Very good."
The doctor opened the main case and took out several complicated-looking pieces of electronic equipment. "If what I believe happened here is correct...." Long addressed the assembly as he carefully linked a complexity of lenses and tubes, then carefully clipped on a of the bit of glass taken from the chosen display case. "Because this glass was exposed to the mystery force, it should retain..." He checked the readings and adjusted several dials. "Certain of the characteristics of the previous force." He threw a switch, bringing a faint light from the machine. "That should do it."
Long looked up at the mystified spectators. " I need a volunteer." He pointed at the youngest and best looking of the policemen. "You. Patrolman, "he peered at the name tag. "O'Doul. The others can leave. They don't need to see this."
The lieutenant guided his other men from the room, then returned to stand behind the machine.
"Me?" The man named stepped back slightly. "Sure an' I'm not so sure that..."
Long waved off the objection. "I assure you, you will suffer no permanent harm."
"No permanent harm?" Patrolman O'Doul shook his head. "That's not so reassuring as you might be, so if it's all the same..."
The Police Lieutenant looked over from the far side of the room. "I could make that an order."
O'Doul gave up. "I'm goin', sir - but I'm not feeling so good about this."
"Don't worry, Patrolman." Long guided the nervous man until he was standing alone in front of a clear strip of wall at the far end of the room. "You'll be feeling much better soon."
"Now, if someone could dim the lights?" That done, he hurried back to his machine. Opening the second case, he elected a pair of glass orbs and fastened them on either side of the test glass. "Stand back out of the way, gentlemen - and Dr. Laie." When they were clear, he threw the switch. A thin light shone into the glass orbs, through the affected sample, and emerged as a solid beam of pink light that shone unscattered across the room."Observe how the light passes through that affected glass, shining over Patrolman O'Doul."
"That's the same strange light that I saw!" Dr. Putzoutski exclaimed. "First pink, like that, then blue. I don't know how, but it flashed over the room just before..." Whatever he intended to say was interrupted by a sharp elbow to the ribs, courtesy of his younger colleague.
Amanda Laie finished the sentence for him."Before the thieves broke in."
"Interesting!" Shafter took a closer look at the machine. "But I don't see how that..
"Observe, please." Long pointed at the `volunteer', who appeared frozen in the pink glare. "At first the ray immobilizes the central nervous system. Now, as I increase the power flow through the affected glass." A blue flash imposed itself on the pink, then faded back onto the original rose.
All eyes locked on the entranced policeman as he appeared to quiver within the solid beam of light. Slowly, as one in the grip of an unbreakable compulsion, his right hand made its way down the front of his uniform shirt to his black leather belt, then slowly below. Flat palmed he rubbed his hand over the increasing bulge at the front of his trousers, then slowly lowered the zipper to release his growing erection.
"O'Doul!" The lieutenant exclaimed, shocked.
"Sorry, sir!" The patrolman gasped. "I can't seem to help myself." He shuddered, closing his hand around the engorged flesh and starting the rhythmic stoking that - as much as the ray itself - soon had him breathing in jagged pants.
"That's right, Lieutenant. He quite literally can't." Long checked his sails, then made another small adjustment. "And that is only the secondary resonance of the force used in this robbery. Once a man - or woman - is exposed to the orgasmatronic vibrations of the ray, they are helpless to resist."
Helpless to resist was exactly the word that came to Shafter's mind. He knew that - if he had any decency - he should look away from the obscene tableau being enacted in front of him. He should. He really should. But the sight of the muscular young man pleasuring himself transfixed almost as powerfully as the pink ray.
Shafter shifted uncomfortable, wondering if that fascination was part of the orgasmatronic vibrations Long had mentioned. Surely it must be, because no upright FBI agent could possible be aroused by this... perversion. So, Shafer decided firmly, the sudden tightness in his own trousers was simply one of those discomforts that he must manfully ignore in the interests of criminal justice.
O'Doul's organ was flushed almost blood-red in the rose-tinted light, and as Shafter peered closer he thought he could even see the subtle pulse of the big vein that indicated O'Doul's orgasm was near. The patrolman was whimpering softly now, eyes closed, mouth open, driving himself against his curled hand with greater and greater force as his lust grew under the influence of the alien vibrations and his own self- supplied pleasure. His other hand was buried behind him, no doubt rubbing his balls or pressed against his rear hole. Perhaps both. Anything, clearly, that would satisfy the maddened craving for sexual pleasure that Dr. Long's mechanism had somehow induced.
When he noticed his own palm brushing his thigh, Shafter gripped his fists and tried to think of baseball. Of America. Of Director Hoover.
"Please - please - please." The patrolman was moaning now. The words were more a chant then a dialogue, coming in sharp pants in time with his pelvic thrusts.
Dr. Long shut off the pink ray, and as it vanished O'Doul collapsed to the floor, sperm splattering over the tiles in front of him.
"Lord," the lieutenant whispered. "What is that thing?"
"Something we salvaged from a crashed..." Long hesitated for a moment. " airplane... that went down in the San Bernardino Mountains. We believe it is called a Copulatronic Ray. At the request of the Navy, I and a few carefully selected other scientists have been working on this in my laboratory on the Hollywood Hills. You can understand that this is a top secret project."
The lieutenant gave the device a wary look as he went over to help his fallen comrade. "Does that explain movie star behavior?"
"Perhaps." Long unplugged the machine and began it's careful disassembly. "We try to be careful, but every experiment has some fallout."
Dr. Putzoutski looked at the exhausted O'Doul, then at the machine, then fleetingly at Dr. Laie. "So that is why I felt so - strange - back at the museum?"
"Very likely." Long pulled the `rayed' glass out from the machine. It slivered at his touch, brittle from the mighty forces that had been pulled from it.
"Dick!" Amanda Laie blushed. "You're telling me that you have a ray gun that MAKES people--- well... you know."
"Not exactly." Long answered, meticulously sliding delicate electronic parts into their special case. " The ray does not actually compel behavior. It only weakens the barrier between the Ego and the Id. Once that is done, our most primal impulses emerge. The result is still us, but a more animal, less morally controlled self."
Ivan Putzoutski looked relieved. "Then we would never..."
Dr. Long nodded. "It wont make you kill someone - or run off to Vegas with your Golden Retriever." Looking up briefly at Dr. Laie he added. " Well, not unless you secretly want to."
"Still," Amanda Laie shuddered slightly as she remembered the pink flash. " That...ray. In the hands of an enemy." She looked at the gray-haired Dr. Putzoutski and shuddered again.
"As you say." Long closed the case, then locked it. "With enough power it could be devastating. We have not worried about that until now. We believed no generator on earth was enough to power a working Copulatronic ray.
"No power source?" Shafter asked.
Richard Long gave the FBI agent a grim look. "None we know of except - if legend is to be believed - the mysterious Rod of Ra!"
Chapter 4: Instruments of Science
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Richard Long looked back in some surprise as Special Agent Ash Shafter came to a sudden halt at the bottom of the Museum steps. "Just realized." Shafter said. "If I'm going to flop at your place, I need to get my gear."
"No problemo." Long nodded at the cluster of policemen still busy keeping the hovering reporters away from the building entrance. "Just send one of the blue boys back to the motel for it." After a quick scan of the adjacent parking lot, he added, "Did you drive here?"
"I caught a ride in a black and white." Shafter answered. "But if I stay in California very long I may need to requisition something.
"Don't bother." Long reached into his coat pocket, then tossed Shafter a ring of keys. "The gray Cadillac. Third from the end."
"You have a Caddy and you trust me to drive it?"
"Why not?" Long let his eyes rest for a moment on the wide chest and strong arms before he forced his gaze up to the honest face of the FBI man. "I assume if you can out-run all those gangsters and bootleggers, our local roads shouldn't be that big of a challenge."
"That's not what I hear. Heard you've got one where they pulled out all the stop signs and raised the speed to 50. Called it a free-for-all."
"Freeway." Long laughed. "It's not that bad, once you get used to it."
"It's your car." Shafter gave the chrome detailed chassis a look that bordered on lust.
"Exactly. And I trust you with it." And with a lot more then a car, perhaps, Long added mentally as he allowed himself one more scan of the hard -muscled legs that lead - he was quite sure - to an equally muscled ass. Added to the broad shoulder and chocolate eyes? From what Long knew of this town, Shafter could get a lot more then just a car if he knew what to do with those assets. Which - Long also knew - he young agent did not. At least not yet. But he put those thoughts aside to add cheerfully. "Besides, how often do I get a G-man for a chauffeur?"
Shafter laughed. "Glad to do it - since it gives me the chance to get my hands on that beauty."
Longs mental response was `I'll get you get your hands on whatever you'd like', but it was too early by far for that. So aloud he said only, "Just let me have a word with the lieutenant and we can be on our way."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Unknown to the two men, they were bring watched by a pair of dark eyes concealed in the shrubbery. As Dr. Long and his companion turned back to give their orders to the waiting policemen, a slim figure crept up to the vehicle just mentioned. Looking carefully around to check that he was unobserved, the figure slipped carefully into the unlocked `boot' of the car.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Shafer listened closely as Richard Long gave him the directions to his home.
"You're being awfully nice to a stranger."
"Not by half." Long replied truthfully. "I've been planing on asking you over ever since Dr. Putzoutski mentioned that the Bureau had called you in on this one." At Shafter's surprised look, Long continued. "Word gets around in our circles. Especially after that work you did out at the Harmony Ranch. You're getting quite the reputation, `Hard Ass' Shafter."
"Jeez." Long smiled to himself as he noted that his companion darkened a bit around he ears. In someone less rugged - or with a fairer complexion - it might even have been considered a blush. As it was, Shafter's natural olive tint managed to cover the visible rush of blood. Even so, the young man could not totally keep his opinion off of his face. "Sorry," Shafter apologized automatically. G-men weren't supposed to cuss. "It's just that I *hate* that nickname." Shafter rubbed his cheek, as if he could cool or cover the betraying heat. "You have no idea what it was like back in my Army days. Every time the Sargent would call me out on parade?"
"Let me guess." Long dropped his voice into a military cadence. "Shafter, Ash!"
"Enough to break up a whole parade ground." The dark-haired agent shrugged to cover a wince, then turned his attention strictly back to the road. "I had to make officer in self defense."
You could sure have made me, Long thought, but again he said only, "I think I do understand. I got my growth spurt early, and went through prep school known as `Long Dick Long'."
"That's not so bad." Shafter grinned. " A little rough, maybe, but..."
"My middle name is Hardstaff."
"Good Lord!" the FBI man suppressed a laugh. "That's almost as bad as Shafter." After a moment he added. "But at least you don't have to tell people."
"I don't - except my friends." Long ran his hand over Shafter's shoulder - supposedly to point out the upcoming turn. "People I trust."
"Honored, then." The G-man cranked the wheel, and incidentally leaned against his passenger. Long, being a genius, had had the sense to sit close. "I promise not to use the Hardstaff against you."
"Thanks," Long said. But what he thought was - don't make any promises you don't intend to keep. Because I assure you, my stalwart young lawman - you may be using *some* hard staff against me sooner then you think.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Another two turns had then parked before Dr. Richard Long's spacious stucco home. Set into the hillside just below Griffith Park, it was a tasteful mixture of stucco and glass. The front yard was carefully landscaped with roses and eucalyptus, and separated from it's neighbors by a high Spanish-style wall.
As he locked up the car, Ash Shafter again recalculated the good doctor's importance - up. Seriously up. A house this fancy had to have set someone back a good twenty-five grand. That was serious cash at any time. More so when the economy was still looking pretty rough. Rich people sometimes gave the Agency grief. Political grief. Shafter considered that for a moment then relaxed. Not here. Long was one of the good guys, after all. He had a security clearance even higher then Shafter's own. So - if a good guy wanted to give a few extra comforts to a hard-working lawman dragged away from a well-deserved vacation? That was just being kind to a regular guy.
Richard Long looked at the young FBI agent and recalculated Ash Shafter's attractions - up. Seriously up. Sable hair, chocolate eyes, a square jaw with just enough hint of shadow to make Long want to lick it. Strict military bearing. A body hard from work more then work-outs. Of course, Long knew, he'd have to be careful about making any moves. Hoover kept his boys too straight for their own good. Still, Long hadn't made it this far in life without becoming a very good judge of more then character. Shafter had looked at Amanda Laie - yes. Hell, *he* looked at Laie. Everyone looked at Laie. But Shafter's eyes hadn't had that all- consuming hunger that would indicate an immovable fixed preference. And the agent had *also* looked at the performance of Patrolman O'Doul. Looked with at least as much attraction as revulsion. So - if Long could show the young man a few extra pleasure? He might be convinced that such enjoyments were OK - even between two regular guys.
Lost in their thoughts, either noticed the slim figure that slipped from the trunk and into the deep bushes that lined the yard.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Long hung his coat in a closet by the door, then held out his hand for Shafter's. "You can have the room just down from mine. It has the best view. Unless you mind sharing a bathroom."
"Not at all." Good Lord, Shafter thought, looking around at the wide entrance way that merge into a huge living room that in turn faded into a wide oak deck. Just how many rooms did this place have? From the front it looked as if there were two floors, but inside he could see that the stairs went both up and down.
"I live mostly on this floor." Long gave a general wave that took in the rich array of polished oak and comfortable leather."Bedrooms are upstairs."He headed for the stairs, urging Shafter to follow. "The bottom two are my lab. Makes it easier when I have to work late."
As they climbed, Shafter could indeed see that the stairs down lead to a less elaborate room. Not ugly, but plain and clean, like a well-fitted workshop.
"That's another reason I wanted you to stay here. I expect us to be working together closely." A serious understatement, Long confessed to himself, but the truth none the less. If all went well he would not only solve the case, but have the chance to work *very* closely with this handsome young man.
Long opened the second door, and stepped back so Shafter could step into the designated guest room.
Heaven! Shafter thought, and he wasn't half cussing this time. This place was heaven. Bigger then his entire apartment back in DC. Even the wide king-size bed placed against the left-hand wall couldn't take up all the space in this room. The right side held shelves of books and a full sized desk that J. Edward himself might have envied. Not to mention the dresser, nightstands, and a very comfortable leather recliner complete with standing lamp. All of it good stuff, and not some cheap Sear's set. Hell, the place was furnished better then his apartment as well. And at the far wall - unbelievably - were glass *doors* that lead to another deck.
Some guys had it good, Shafter thought as he set his briefcase carefully on the polished walnut desk. He shook his head and strictly suppressed the thought. He knew he should be glad for what he had, not envy others. The FBI was a better job them most men could hope for. He enjoyed his work. He was proud of his responsibilities. He probably wouldn't have had the brains for college even if he could have found the cash. But Damn, this science gig must pay well.
Long moved over quietly to open the door to the shared bathroom.
Shafter checked it out carefully. Not big, but big enough. Very modern. Double sink with a built in counter. Bathtub - complete with shower, surrounded by marble tile. Glassed off commode.
A movement from Long regained his attention. "Normally I'd give you time to settle in, but under the circumstances?"
Normally Shafter would have liked to test out that shower. It had been a long day after a rough night. But since his luggage hadn't arrived, and he didn't have a clean shirt to change into? He nodded at his host. "Let's get right down to it."
Great choice of words, Long thought. Not that they could, of course. This blue-suited Washington man would need serious coaxing before he would admit anything resembling a passion for one of his own sex. No matter, Long had time enough - and just the right tools for the job.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Shafter checked out the lab floor with open curiosity. He had seen the crime lab at Quantico, of course. Even had some training there. This gleaming expanse of electronics and glass was as far from that crowded warren as his room upstairs was from his bachelor apartment back in Washington.
A marble top work-bench was built into the far wall, complete with sink and power plugs. A central rack held the usual incomprehensible glassware suspended over Bunsen burners. This end housed Dr. Longs desk, the expected filing cabinets, and - if he had identified it correctly - a full sized electrical tabulation machine. Not to mention the very comfortable looking sofa where Long was indicating his guest should sit.
And there was another shop downstairs?
"Quite a set-up you have here, Dr. Long. " Shafter was proud that he kept *most* of the awe out of his voice.
"Dick, please."Long opened a closed and wheeled out a stand with a movie projector a;ready open and ready to go. "I get a lot of equipment from Hughes and Grumman. And of course from the Navy's Arizona project."
"Then you are connected with...?"
"Only indirectly." The flip of a switch closed the floor-to celling curtains that covered still another sliding glass door that Shafer assumed let out on still another deck. "Mine is a separate project, and hopefully less publicized." Another switch unfurled a small home-movie screen.
The sliding glass doors were the only windows to the lab, so the result was a sudden darkness, but Shafter was seated and Long apparently knew his way around in the dark. "As you know," the scientist continued," the Germans have been taking a lot of interest in ancient artifacts of legendary power - snatching them up wherever they can. Our - project - has made it our business to see that America gets them first."
"Ancient stuff like at the museum?"
"Ancient artifacts, or interesting or unexplained. Anything that modern science can not completely identify and put to use."
"Like this Rod of Ra?" Shafter asked. "Just what is there about this thing that makes it so dangerous?"
"The same thing that made those men so anxious to steal it." Richard Long flipped a last switch, then came over to sit beside his guest on the sofa. "I'm going to show you a film. It was shot in a top secret laboratory not very far from here, at a time not so long ago..."
There was the usual gray and black static, then suddenly the image of an elderly Asian man in a white lab coat carefully holding what appeared to be an elaborately sculpted phallus.
"That's the Rod?" Shafter asked, grateful for the darkness that covered what felt like the mother of all blushes.
"The Pharaohs of Ancient Egypt were considered the living embodiments of the fertility of the Nile." Long answered. "Given the tenants of their faith..."
"Makes sense, I guess." Shafter blushed even deeper as the camera moved in for a closer look.
"Up on your room there is an excellent book by Dr. Wang detail the use of the Rod in some of the fertility rituals of the Middle Dynasty." Long leaned closer, brushing his leg against the other man's. "You might want to study it before you go to bed tonight. Or, if you like, I could go over it with you."
"Thanks." Shafter eased away as much as he could given the narrow space." Ah, maybe later... if I can't figure it out... but just now I'd like to... concentrate on t he case."
Which the heavy warmth beside him was not helping. Not that he would normally care at all about the way another man's strong thigh felt pressed against his own, but under the circumstances? With that giant hard-on filling half the wall in front of him? He felt something he's rather *not* feel twitch with interest as the man on the screen inserted the artifact slowly into a tight length of rubber tubing.
"You guys had the Rod. For a while at any rate. Why didn't you..." Maybe not the smartest question, Shafter knew, but he had to say *something* to get his mind off of..well... something that could only embarrass him. And his host.
"Why did we not build the ray first? As you will see, we tried." A pretty young woman - also in a lab coat - entered, holding a cat. She waited as the man on the screen carefully aimed the Rod - with all the attached gear - at a large glass box. "But the Rod of Ra is only one third of the mystery."
The young lady placed the cat in the glass box, then closed the lid. The camera wheeled closer to focus on the animal. A common tabby, Shafter decided, from the look of it. Obviously it would be the subject of the experiment.
"The Rod of Ra - legend says - will confer great power on the man who wields it - but only when united with the two Orbs of Osiris."
"And those are?"
"Two large sapphire spheres - each slightly smaller then a golf ball."
The young lady came back on the screen, this time carrying a small dog. No breed that Shafter could identify, but then he never had studied much about dogs. Again she placed the dog in the glass box. The cat hissed at it.
The camera panned over to show the man in the lab coat pulling a switch and a bright beam of light - Shafter presumed it was pink, although that could not show on film - leaped from he equipment to hit the box dead on.
The animals appeared to freeze, then - after a second flash - the dog slowly moved over to mount the cat. And - what was even more shocking - the cat appeared to permit it.
"During the Rutmost Dynasty, the Orbs were carried in a sacred pouch made from the scrotum of the `Bull of Heaven'. Long continued, apparently indifferent to the actions taking place before them. "After the death of Amanhotstuf the two were separated. For centuries the two jewels have traveled though the hands of the great families of Europe and Asia, but the pair were never in the same place - or even the same country - until...."
"Until?" Shafter pressed, wanting to appear alert although he could not quite tear his eyes from the incredible action on the screen in front of him. Even working Vice, he had never seen anything like this. The camera had panned in to show the swollen length of doggie cock thrusting in and out of the willing pussy. If the guys in Vice had ever heard of... Shafter disciplined his thoughts. This was science, not perversion!
"In this experiment we had only the Rod itself." Long leaned closer, laying his arm over Shafter's shoulder; apparently to point out the open casings at the lower end of the Rod. The other hand landed on Shafter's knee for balance. "Recently we believed we had the chance to join the balls. We managed to purchase one, and had it shipped secretly to a military research lab."
"And the other?" Shafter froze, afraid to move lest that hand on his knee move higher and discover his growing embarrassment.
"We could not get our hands on the other ball. It was purchased by Eric Manlove for his famous collection."
"The old movie star?" `Erring' Eric Manlove was retired now, but Ash Shafter could still remember the thrill of seeing the handsome actor swing from ropes and jump from trains in the adventure-packed movies of his childhood.
"Exactly." Long flipped of the projector, mercifully releasing the agent from the hypnotic power of the screen. "The man is a recluse, but still quite a power in California politics. We didn't want to risk exposure by forcing him to part with one of his balls."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Concealed by view by the closed draperies, a slender figure knelt on the deck with his ear pressed firmly to to the glass.
"Gee willikers" he whispered to himself. "What a story! I'd better get out to Mr. Manlove's place and see if I can get the scoop!"
With that the cub reporter vanished again into the greenery.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"That was before we knew that another power was also capable of creating a working Ray." Dr. Long stood and clicked on the lights. " Now that the Rod of Ra has been stolen, no man, woman, or child is safe from it's insidious power."
"You're right. We'd better get out to Manlove's estate and grab his balls before someone else does!" Shafter hesiteted. "But... how will we protect ourselves from the ray?"
My studies have revealed one possible shield." Dr. Long patted Shafer comfortingly on the shoulder, then stepped over and opened a small safe behind the desk. After a brief search he pulled out a small box, from which he drew a pair of ebony spheres. "Here." Long handed one of the large beads to Shafter.
The FBI man looked carefully at the strange jewel Long had laid in his palm. It appeared to be a large black bead. He would have said a pearl, except that he could never recall seeing a natural jewel of that color or quality. A very fine gold chain ran through the bead, connected to a dime-sized scarab charm picked out in bright enamel. "What is this?"
"That is one of the Black Pearls of Anubis." Long answered. "I have them here because they are one of the few ancient artifacts that share the same vibrational frequency as the Pod of Ra and the Orbs of Osiris. If I'm right, they should serve as a sort of counter-irritant and protect us from being over-whelmed by the Ray."
Shafter gave the assemblage another look. "What am I supposed to do with this? Swallow it?"
"Not quite." Long raised his own pearl and spun it gently in an unfamiliar but far-to-understandable gesture.
"You don't mean to say.."
Long twisted his left palm into a tunnel, then pushed in the pearl until only the scarab charm was visible below the flesh. "The protective field of the Pearls is very weak. To have any effect, it must be placed very near the nerve cluster affected by the orgasmatronic vibrations."
Shafter swallowed hard. "I don't know..."
Dr. Long reached into his lab drawer and pulled out a box of Kleenex and a tube of cream. "It might be easier if I was to help you with the installation."
"I don't..." Shafter shook his head automatically. Half his brain was frozen in shock. A good part of the other half had gone south, where it joined with a few other rebellious organs who somehow thought this was a good idea. The part of his brain still working was trying desperately to find a way out of more embarrassment.
"Trust me." Long smiled. "I'm a doctor."
Yeh. Doctor. Right. Medicine was good. You needed to be healthy."Well, I guess..." Shafter stammered. "After all...If it's medical..."
Long raised one eyebrow. "Unless you want to end up like Patrolman O'Doul."
"Lord no.!" Shafter exclaimed. "Hover would have my ass." Ooops... not the best choice of words under the circumstances. "Um, not that..."
Long appeared to ignore the verbal confusion, simply pointing to a small door in the rear wall. "You might want to go to the bathroom first? I keep some Fleets in the bottom drawer. If you need help? I..."
"No thanks, Doc." Shafter hurried over to the door indicated. "I get the idea."
Ten minutes later Agent Shafter was back, looking a bit paler but considerably more composed. He had a large towel wrapped around his waist and his trousers folded neatly over his arm.
"Excellent, I can see you are taking this well."
"Just the job, Doc."
"The job can be hard, I know. But you're man enough to handle it."Long smiled and held out his hand. "Put the pants on the sofa, and use the towel for a pad." Dr. Long tapped the now-cleared surface of his desk. "This will be easier if you bend over the desk and try to relax."
Shafter did as instructed and gingerly assumed the position. "Something like a proctological exam."
"A very good analogy." Long took a finger full of cream and warmed it slight before rubbing it gently around the now-reddened entrance. "You'll feel much better once you've got the Pearl properly in place." He added a bit more cream and eased it just past the hard ring, still saying "Because you'll know you're protected from alien influence."
"Hey - what?"
"Just a mild muscle relaxant to help it slide into place. With a touch of the new sulfa drugs - just to be on the safe side. I wouldn't want either of us to pick up an infection."
Shafter shifted uneasily at the first slight penetration. "Umm doc?"
"Just standard procedure." Long gave his spine a comforting pat. "If you want I could use a rubber glove - although they are rather bulky. Rather inclined to stretch things out. But I assure you, I do file my nails." He interested his finger knuckle deep and rotated it slowly, persuading the tense muscle to yield before it.
Bulky? Shafter swallowed. That finger tip had been big enough. He cast another worried look at the Pearl, which was somehow growing larger by the second. And, thinking of things that were growing... which Shafter resolutely refused to do.
"You're the doctor, Doctor." And anything to get this over with quickly, he added mentally.
Adding more cream, Long carefully pushed his finger full length up the narrow channel, probing carefully. "Now - tell me when you can feel it."
Feel it? Shafter shuddered. He could feel *all* of it - and far too much of it. That one finger felt like a baseball bat being shoved up his backside, and it was taking all this discipline to keep from pushing away. "Uhh.." he grunted.
"Here?" Long twisted the finger a bit. The tip hit something, sending a sudden wave of fire up Shafter's spine.
"Umm... Uhh..." He couldn't help himself. He had to push - back.
"Yes." Longs voice was cheerful. "That's the spot. Just a bit more." The finger withdrew, then returned with another load of lubricant. Each pass was deeper, and each brushed over that spot that created the fire.
Shafter thrust uncontrollably, then moaned as his now-raging hard-on hit the cold hardness of the desk. "Uh..doc.. uh.."
Long again rubbed his lower spine. "Just try to ignore the side effects and I'm sure they will pass."
Then the fingers stopped. That should feel good, but instead it was cold. Empty. Shafter could see Longs spare hand reach around to pluck the Pearl off of the desk."
"Almost finished." Longs breath rushed against his ear, stirring the short hairs at the base of his neck.
"Uh.."
There was a flash of pain as the hard sphere was pushed past his lower ring, then a deep burn as it came to rest against the same spot that had so recently triggered the sudden waves of pleasure.
"I think..." Shafter gasped as he felt the quick jerk of the gold chain draw the pearl again and again over that magic nub. At the third pass he could take no more. Horrified, but past control, he felt his balls contact and a huge load shoot down the side of the desk as a fierce orgasm shook though his entire frame.
"Oh, God, Doc. I'm sorry."
Long passed the spent man another towel. "Don't worry, Agent Shafter. I'm sure your body will adapt to the sensation soon enough. Until then?" He handed Shafter another tube of cream. "I'm sure you can find a way to deal with any discomfort."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Shafter was showered, dressed, and shaved before he again stepped out of the small bathroom. His luggage was still in transit, but Long - or Dick, as he must remember to call the scientist - had generously loaned him one of his own fine cotton shirts.
Shafter signed softly as he stroked a hand over the freshly starched fabric. Somehow his host had understood that the crisp clothes would help him regain his composure after the... embarrassing incident. And Shafter acknowledged that he *was* still embarrassed, even though Dr. ... Dick ... had confidently explained that the... incident... was the result of the alien science, and no reflection of the FBI agents manliness. He could still hear the doctor's ... Dick's ... reassuring words that he only thought more highly of Ash for `taking it like a man', and promising that doctor-patient confidentially, and Dick's own word as a gentleman, would keep matters `tight between the two of us'.
But now? Shafter straightened the new burgundy silk tie that Dick had insisted would go perfectly with his Agency blue suit. The pearl was still..well, not quite uncomfortable, but definitely a recognized presence in his back passage. Especially if he moved quickly. Or sat. But after he had.... handled matters... twice... in the shower, the burning had settled down to a filled
sensation and the sort of occasional soft throb that he could definitely work around.
He stepped carefully up the stairs to the living room where his host was speaking on the phone. "What now, Dick?"
Long set back the telephone receiver and turned. "I just tried calling Manlove. He's not answering."
"Do you think?"
Long shrugged into his jacket. "With Manlove, you can never be sure. But I think we had better get out to his estate and get our hands on that ball before out thieves do!"
Chapter 5: For Me and My.... Guy.
Meanwhile - even as the lawman and the doctor prepare themselves for battle - back at the alien ship another sinister meeting is taking place!
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
The hatch-like door opened with a slight squeal of hinges, and two spacemen watched with interest as Spaceman Tanna thrust out her chest and gave the formal attention due her superiors. "Excellency." She held the pose until her salute was returned casually by the elder man. "Force Commander Erros." She handed a sheaf of papers to her battle-companion. "The installation of the Rod is now complete."
Erros read quickly through the printed report. "You have done well, Tanna."
"Sir!" That brought another salute. "I serve the Leader."
"So." Fleet Commander Farttoz rolled his chair back from his barren desk. "You feel you are ready to test the device?"
Erros came to attention, covertly smoothing the new satin shirt with the jagged emblem that marked his increased rank. "Yes, Excellency."
Farttoz ignored that. "Have you chosen a target?"
"Yes, Excellency." Erros gestured Tanna to start up the Electro-Viewscreen. "This time we thought we might test a more urban area." There was the usual display of jagged lines as Tanna adjusted the device, then it cleared to reveal a section of modest stucco buildings. "This is Silver Lake. It is one of the earth creatures `residential communities."
Farttoz frowned at the screen. "Will not most of the earthlings be absent, gone about their day's labors."
"Yes, Excellency." Erros gestured again, and Tanna manipulated the leavers to move the focus closer, singling out a specific building. "But we have identified a cluster of unattached males on one property." The picture on the screen moved closer still, centering on the small back yard. There four young men sat around a picnic table loaded with strangely assorted foods. A large barrel filled with ice and bottles was placed to one side. "These males have gathered for what - in earth parlance - is known as a bachelor party."
"Bachelor party" Farttoz questioned.
Yes, Excellency." Tanna answered. "It is a ceremony prior to formal mating."
The Fleet Commander leaned back, rubbing his rather narrow chin. "How will you test the Ray if they are already prepared to mate?"
"The chosen mate is not present at such an event." Erros answered. "It is a ceremony where males consume sedatives in order to delay the mating urge. They call it a `last toot'."
Farttoz was openly unimpressed. "Will not the sedation invalidate the test?
"Only confirm it, Excellency. The ray will thus need greater force to reach the pleasure centers of their primitive brains." He focused on a single subject, and with a pointed indicated the specified area of mental activity. " As you can see, it is unlikely that the subjects have yet consumed a disabling quantity of sedatives. By our observations the festivities have barely begun."
"Very well", Farttoz grumbled, "You may proceed."
At Erros's unspoken command, Tanna dropped the focus point very close to the four subjects. One of them - clearly the guest of honor to judge by his peculiar hat, was saying, "Thanks, Mike, for agreeing to be my best man." He took a long drink from a bottle. " You're a real buddy, and it means a lot to me."
Mike raised his bottle in a toast. "Thanks for asking me, Fred.
"Fire when ready, Spaceman Tanna."
She reached over for the power button. "As you Command, Erros!"
"Cindy is a great girl." Mike was continuing. "If you weren't my best friend, I'd probably be jealous, because I ....."
As before, a pulse of pink and blue light played rhythmically over the four figures below.
"... want *you*!" Mike growled in sudden animal passion. "Want you *now*!" Tossing aside his beer, Mike grabbed his friend, and - ignoring the ruined bowls of dilled potatoes and macaroni salad - flung him down on top of the picnic table. "Take you now!" Mike growled again, ripping at his friends slacks and boxers until the Fred's bare ass was exposed to his hungry gaze.
"Yes. Take me!" Fred moaned, lost in sudden lust, thrusting upward as the first mayonnaise- slick finger breached his back passage. "Take me hard! All of you."
"Mike!" a second man said, pushing the plank bench aside and dropping to his knees under the table. "Let me suck his cock while you fuck him."
"Yes." Fred begged, thrusting forward in a desperate bid to reach the promised heat. "Oh yes, Mike! Say yes! Say he can!"
"Sure, Joe. And then you can have his ass after me." Mike allowed, smiling as the sudden sensation of Joe licking his prick made Fred gasp even as he jumped under the sharp burn of a second finger. "And Tom?" Mike turned to the third guest, who had his cock out and was rapidly stroking the thick to fullness. "You can fuck his mouth."
"Yes, Tom!" Fred cried, bucking madly under the twin sensation of Mikes fingers and Joe's tongue. "Feed me your meat. I want to take it! Want to suck you, drink your cum, oh.. uh.."
The flow of worlds was cut off abruptly as Tom's hardening prick was thrust full-length between Fred's begging lips.
"Thanks, Tom." Mike said, pulling our his fingers and smearing the rest of the mayonnaise on his own throbbing organ. "Fred looks really hot with a mouth full of cock. Besides. This way I don't have to gag him to keep the neighbors from hearing when I ...." Mike centered his prick on Fred's virgin hole and, rearing back, drove himself balls deep with a single mighty thrust.
"UHHH!" Fred cried, desperate to scream but gaged by the massive male meat forcing it's way down his throat.
"Leave your buddies for some little pussy, will you!" Mike hissed. "When we're done with you, you wont be able to get it up for a week!" He took a cool drink of beer, then started in on the serious business of fucking Fred's ass.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Fleet Commander Farttoz looked away, disgusted. "This is your test? The Ray is little more powerful then it was before."
"We have a 12 % increase in spread." Tanna answered.
"And the neural-sexual response is much more severe," Erros quickly added. "The response began on the first pulse."
"That is nothing." The elderly alien flipped his stylus, then thrust it back into the holder. "I want to control a planet - not a bridge club. We need the Orbs of Osiris - nothing else will do."
"And we shall have them, Excellency," Erros answered. "Already our earth-born agents have been dispatched!
"Then go to them now." Farttoz commanded, turning his attention back to the Electro-Viewscreen. Mike had finished his own orgasm, and now he was holding Fred's cheeks apart as Joe moved in to take his place at their friends hungry back entrance. "I want to be alone - to consider your mistakes."
Chapter 6: Ball One!
Stately Manlove Manor, home of playboy millionaire Eric Manlove, sat peacefully among its landscaped acres. Snug behind behinds it steel-tipped gates, the sprawling granite walls of the faux English mansion shielded it's inhabitants from the disturbing bustle of the modern world. Chief among those inhabitants, and indeed the master of them all, was the world- renowned performer known as `Erring' Eric Manlove.
Sir Eric had come to Hollywood from the music houses of Brighton in the rough and tumble days of the silent movie, and under the bright lights of the Silver Screen had remade himself. Those who remembered the rude cockney burlesque who had busked at the gates of Mammoth Studio's all those years ago were increasingly few, while those who had since learned the power of `Sir Eric' over their lives and their careers numbered in the thousands. Even his abrupt withdrawal from public life had done little to damaged the actor's power. While his direct presence might be less seen, his legend was increasingly felt. Once call from the famous figure, for good or for ill, could make or break the careers of hundreds.
Even the politicians and the real estate moguls who grew rich off of California's burgeoning immigrants walked warily around Eric Manlove. The money he had made in the movies had been well invested in land and in factories, and that same phone call that could damn a script could derail a road or a housing tract with equal effect.
Few indeed were the men who could walk to the gates of Manlove Manor and demand admission. It should perhaps strike us as strange that - when a young cub reporter for the Pasadena Star did just that - he was let right in.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"Billy Bung, you say?" The starched butler in his flawless morning coat loomed ominously over the slight frame of the venturesome young cub reporter. "I believe the Master was expecting you."
"He was?" Billy squeaked, caught off guard. Not by half, Manlove hadn't been expecting him. The man never talked to the press these days. Must be some other guy with a similar name. Still, Billy knew a reporter got nowhere if he wasn't will to take every advantage, so he pressed his voice down to what he hoped was an adult range and repeated. "I mean, yes, he was."
Billy tried to look nonchalant as he took in the gold-framed paintings and marble statues that filled the space between the stained-glass windows of the vast entraceway. At the rear a wide carved staircase curved up to a banistered mezzinie, and to either side were long hallways lined with even more treasures. Golly, Billy thought. He had known Mr. Manlove was rich, but he'd never imagined anybody could be *this* rich. And he was gonna talk to a broke kid like Billy Bung? Why did everyone say he was mean?
"Fifi." The butler summoned a spectacularly beautiful young lady in a black-and-white maids costume. "Take Bung here to the Master's room. He is expected."
Miss Fifi gave the new arrival a though once-over. He was cute, she decided, in a fresh sort of way. Green eyes, red hair, lots of freckles. Innocent looking. And he'd had the sense to play up the role, going for a striped shirt and tan pants paired with bright suspenders. The look played up his strong points, and the worn seat of the twill trousers were flattering enough as they clung against the fresh young muscle beneath. Very effective. At least, she considered, for the little time he's likely be in them. "Working boy, non?"
What did she think he was?, Billy thought. Rockefeller? He had been working since he was fourteen, when his mother had died and his step-father had thrown him out of the house. Still, the guys back at the paper had told him that sometimes these servant types knew the good dirt. And she *was* really pretty. So? If it would get on her good side. He smiled up at her. "We all have our jobs, Miss."
"Some better then others, oui?" That was the truth. Gertrude Smootz, now better know as Fifi D'Lite, had know her share of rough jobs before she had found this comfortable nitch. Times were hard. You had to do what you could. "Tell ya what," she whispered. "When the boss is done with you, you come on down to the kitchen and cook and I will help you out."
Billy blushed. "Gee, thanks Miss. That's awfully good of you." And hey - he thought to himself as he considered the good gossip he could hear from them, maybe he did have the knack to make it as a reporter after all.
Fifi guided him down a long hall to a large oak door, knocked once, then opened the door and stepped back to let Billy Bung enter.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Eric Manlove, wearing only a velvet dressing gown over his still-muscular frame, lay at the far end on the room sprawled upon a Turkish divan. His salt-and pepper hair was rumpled, as if he had just woken from a most unrestful nap, and a martini glass wobbled loosely between his fingers.At first Billy was a bit shocked. The man sure looked a lot older then he did in the movies. Still, a reporter had to be bold.
Billy stepped forward. "I'm here to ask you about your balls, Mr. Manlove. Your blue balls?"
"Direct." Manlove laughed, setting down the glass. "I like that in a boy. Why don't you come over here and check for yourself?"
That was a nice answer, Billy thought. Mr. Manlove must be the nicest guy in all the world! As he came up by the divan, Billy noticed a glowing blue sphere set upon a elaborate gold stand. "Is this your blue ball?", he asked. "What do you do with this?"
Manlove picked up the jewel. "I stroke it. I love to stroke my ball." Manlove held out the sphere. "Would you like to stroke my ball?" He smiled broadly as Billy stepped closer, drawn by the mysterious orb. "And I could stroke yours."
Manlove thrust his hand between Billy's legs, leaving no doubt of his meaning.
"Sir!" Billy jumped back. "I don't think..."
"That's right, pretty boy" Manlove purred, catching Billy by one suspender and drawing him back to the day bed. "Definitely don't think." He pulled Billy down until the boys lips were pressed to the plush velvet of Manlove's dressing gown.
"But, sir." Billy twisted under the iron-hard grip. "Mr. Manlove. I just want..."
A pink and blue flash suddenly transfixed the room.
"That." Billy rubbed his crotch with sudden desperation against the invading palm. Please, sir. Do that again."
Billy moaned as skilled hands striped off his trousers and reached for his now-burning organ. "Oh, sir." The cub reporter closed his eyes as he fell back against the plush tufts of the sofa. Long fingers circled his balls, and he felt a hot wetness close over his boyish cock.
There was no further conversation, at least not in words, as the unfamiliar sensation of Manlove's tongue brushing over his tender cock-head, combined with the neural-sexual power of the Copulatronic Ray, reduced young Billy to a quivering pile of hungry flesh, unable to think of anything beyond the the wild pleasure being revealed to him.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"Holy Moley, boss!" A short man in a flashy suit called out as he stepped into the room. His sharp fedora was pulled low, meeting the mask that covered his eyes. "Look at what's here!" he shouted, raising his voice to be heard over the moans and whimpers.
"So what."The taller gangster sneered at the the two figures on the divan. Billy was on his belly, legs spread, eyes clamped shut, as the lust-crazed Eric Manlove worked his tongue deeply into the tight crevase of the boys ass. "They're all doin' that."
"No, Boss." The shorter thug held his ground. "I mean look *here*." He pointed at the fallen stand, beside which lay a large blue stone. "A'int this...?"
The senior gangster snatched up the glittering gem." That's it!" he cried. "That's the thing we were sent for! Good work!"
"Thanks, boss."
"Come on!" The boss ordered as he tucked the jewel into his jacket pocket. "Let's get out of here!"
With one last look at the moaning pair, the man obeyed.
Billy and Manlove, desperately caught in the grip of ray-inspired lust, did not even notice.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
It was only a few minutes later when Ash Shafter turned the Cadillac onto the long driveway that lead to the Manlove estate.
"Jeez!" Shafter shouted as he cranked the steering wheel sharply, whipping the car around just in time to avoid impact with the oncoming Packard. "What the hell were they running from?"
"I don't know." Long replied, "But the gates are open."
The FBI man looked around. Everything *appeared* quiet. Well, everything except the very careless drivers. "Is that so unusual?"
"It is for Manlove. He's a famous recluse." Long pushed the gate buzzer, but there was no reply.
"Normally I'd want a warrant, but if under the circumstances?" Shafter said, staring at the open gates. "We'd better go in and make sure the old man is all right.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Manlove Manor was quiet - apparently deserted - when Ash Shafter pulled the Cadillac to a halt just in front of the massive oak doors.
"Something's wrong." Long said, turning to scan the wide expanse of rolling lawn that stretched from the front gate to the raw rocks of the distant canyon. " At this time of day, someone should have heard us pull up."
Shafter made his way cautiously to the tall front windows and tried to peer inside. "Too dark. I can't see anything."
Long tapped cautiously on the heavy latch, which gave under his touch. "The front door's unlocked."
Shafter rolled his shoulder against the heavy front door and slid cautiously into the broad entranceway. His right hand rested on his service revolver, ready to draw should danger require. "Jeez, he hissed.
"What?" Long whispered, easing through the door behind him.
Shafter pointed to the far end of the room, where a thin man wearing the top half of a morning suit and a young woman in the remains of a maids costume were locked face to crotch in mutual passion. "We're too late."
Damn!" Long scanned the rumpled pair, then the untouched masterpieces on the wall above them. "That must have been why the other car was leaving so fast. That must have been the museum thieves, with the Orb."
"Very likely," Shafter said, reaching for the hall phone and dialing rapidly. "I'll call it in. You do what you can to help the victims."
Dr. Long went over to kneel by the passionate pair, who, having just finished another massive orgasm, were momentarily sated enough to look up when he called their names.
"Moneysworth?" Long laid his hand gently on the exhausted butler's shoulder. "Mademoiselle D'Lite?"
She rolled away, shivering. "I can't believe I just..."
"You'll be all right." Long pulled off his jacket and draped it careful over the shaken woman's shoulders. "But I have to ask. Did you notice two men - wearing masks?"
Fifi D'Lite pulled the jacket tighter, shivering slightly as the passionate effects of the ray slid away. "Not *notice* exactly," she answered, blushing deeply. "I mean; I saw them, but..."
"I understand." Long reassured her. "At the time you were... otherwise involved..."
Moving over to the butler, Agent Shafter helped the man totter over to a nearby chair, then handed him a table scarf from one of the small tables for covering. "You both were hit with an experimental ray weapon. The criminals used it in order to distract you long enough to break in and steal part of Mr. Manlove's collection.
"Heavens!" Moneysworth exclaimed, staring suddenly at the far hall. "The Master. He was in his study!"
"Oui. Yes." Fifi looked at the butler, then at Long. "What if those monsters...."
"We'll find Manlove," Long assured the shaken pair. He nodded at Shafter and, seeing his return nod of agreement, set off down the hall the two servants had indicated. Long checked room after empty room until he came to the private study at the end of the hall. "Someone's in here. I can hear them," He called back to Shafter.
Shafter hurried up and pressed his ear against the door."Sounds like a fight."
"Gangsters?" Long asked. "I thought they were already gone - with the orb."
"We can't risk it." With a quick jerk of his head, Shafter gestured his companion back from the door. Long was a good man. Tough. But if there was trouble? Citizens didn't go in first. "Count five," he said tersely. "If I'm not firing, you can follow."
Lifting the latch, the FBI man rolled shoulder first into the room, hand on his weapon. "Freeze!"
The two figures did so. The result was a shocking tableaux. Billy Bung, wrists bound above his head with his own suspenders, lay half-bare on the padded divan. Eric Manlove, fully bare, was kneeling over that divan with his face hovering over Billy's outstretched thighs. Even as they watched, another thin burst of cum splattered against Manlove's already-spotted lips.
Eric Manlove looked up with gazed eyes. "Busted?" he whispered.
"Don't worry, Mr. Manlove." Shafer said, helping the shaken man to his feet. "I'm with the FBI. We're here to protect you."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Less then ten minutes later the household was at least roughly dressed and assembled back at the main parlor. Moneysworth and Fifi had pulled themselves together enough to search out the other victims of the ray. Fortunately, only the cook and groundskeeper had been in residence that day, rather then the full staff, and the effects had not spread beyond the estate itself. So there were only six people gathered to hear Dr. Long explain the new threat to America's national security.
Long let his gaze travel slowly from face to face as the full meaning of his words set in. "I don't need to tell you that no word of this weapon must ever be mentioned."
"Indeed not!" the cook exclaimed.
"Oui. I means, yes. I mean no." Fifi blushed, and halted.
Moneysworth stood, straightening his tie. "I believe what Miss D'Lite is trying to say is that we are all good Americans here, and we would never risk our nations freedom by injudicious gossip - especially to the press."
At the word press several eyes shifted to the abashed Billy Bung. The young man shifted uneasily on the hard chair, his once-cheerful freckles only accenting the milk-white pallor of his face. "I won't talk, sir!" His emerald eyes shied away nervously as he looked up at the two men. "I give you my word!"
Eric Manlove reached over and patted his hand. "That's a good lad, Billy."
"Gosh, Mr. Manlove." Billy blushed, unable to meet the moguls's eyes. " I'm so embarrassed. I don't know how you can look at me after..." His voice broke. "After what I did...""
"It's not your fault, Billy." Long reassured the young man. "You were simply overcome by the power of the Copulotronic Ray!"
"Still." Ash Shafter rubbed his jaw, thoroughly inspecting the young man seated before him. Billy looked like a decent sort, but given his known reporter associates? Those weren't always the most sober or cautious of men. And if Billy should be tricked or lured into confiding in one of those `friends'? News of the ray could create a panic, and panic could be even more dangerous then the ray itself. "I think it might be wise if - just for the next few days - we made sure that there were no... inadvertent leaks."
Billy shivered. "You mean that you're going to arrest me, Agent Shafter?"
"I don't think that will be necessary," Shafter answered slowly. "But if Mr. Manlove might agree to the young man staying here for a few days?" The agent shifted his scrutiny to the actor. "Just until the theft is solved? It would be a true service to your county."
"Anything to service my countrymen." Eric Manlove smiled broadly, leaning back in his chair. "I'd be delighted to keep young Mr. Bung."
"You would?" Billy gasped with relief. "That would be keen!" Really, the young cub reporter though to himself. Mr. Manlove would let him stay *here*? In the man's own house? After all the trouble he had brought? That caped it. Mr. Manlove really *was* the nicest, kindest, most generous guy in all the world.
Chapter 7: Officer (going) Down
"Sure you don't want a Maple Stick?" Sargent Miller rummaged through the pink box, then held up the long pastry, it's tip oozing with flavored frosting.
"No thanks, Sarge." Patrolman O'Doul shuddered slightly. He used to *like* donuts, but after his recent experience? Something about the way the long tan cruller looked in the beefy sergeants thick fingers just rubbed him the wrong way.
Miller noticed the shivers, and - understanding - passed O'Doul a plain cake donut instead. "Don't worry, O'Doul." he said quietly. "We all understand it wasn't your doing. It was that ray thing controlling your mind." The Sargent started to take a big bite of the Maple stick, hesitated, then dropped it back and pulled out a glazed Old Fashioned instead. "You should just forget it ever happened.
"Well, from now on it's all...", with a grin, O'Doul picked up a narrow cinnamon twist and thrust it rhythmically though the hole of his donut.
"Yeh," the big cop chuckled. "That meter maid they transferred over to personal does seem to have her eyes on you. You want me to have a word with the holding cell matron? Get her to maybe drop a hint what a ... big... catch you could be?"
Before O'Doul could answer, the police radio crackled to life.
"Calling all Cars. Calling all cars." The tinny voice shouted past the static. "Be on the lookout for a brown Packard, license plate DU69ME, last seen heading west on Ventura. Passengers are suspected in connection with the Historical Museum theft. Be aware suspects should be considered armed and *very* dangerous."
"The Museum thieves, eh?" Sargent Miller grunted.
"Ventura?" O'Doul looked up at the passing street sign. "That's just.... turn right, Sarge."
"We're on a case." The big policeman hesitated. "Lieutenant will be pissed if we go hunting."
"I'll settle up with the Lieutenant later,"O'Doul answered. "But for now? Just be a bud and do this for me."
Miller cranked the wheel, cutting across the lane of busy traffic. "Ventura it is." Another left and they were on the wide boulevard. He scanned the passing cars. "Hey - take a close look over there. Isn't that?"
"DU69ME." O'Doul read off the license number. "Catch em, Sarge! Those mooks and me have got a score to settle."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
They were just past the traffic of the city when the cop car finally pulled behind the brown Packard. Sargent Miller called the find back to headquarters, then started up his lights and siren.
"Holy...boss." The shorter gangster looked over his shoulder. "They're on us!"
The driver glanced back. "Your right. What are we gonna do, chief?"
"Step on it, hotfoot." the boss gangster ordered. "We can't let those coppers get their hands on the big bosses ball."
"Not if we want to keep ours." Ignoring the scream of the heated engine, the driver shifted up to fourth gear. "Don't worry, I'll lose em."
With the speedometer tipping up to sixty miles an hour, the criminal speedster cranked the wheel and sent his souped up Packard squealing around the curves of the Mulholland Drive. But while the gangster was tough, Sargent Miller of the LAPD was tougher. Nights of tagging hot rodders on Colorado and weekends of peeling back the hard sands of China Lake had made him a demon behind the wheel, and with the honor of his partner at stake he knew he would show no mercy. Ignoring the black smoke of his tires, Miller floored the pedal and shoved his black and white up to a fearsome sixty-five.
The gangster drove hard, skidding the car around cliff side curves in order to discourage his pursuers - but Sargent Miller was not a man to be discouraged. If they drove hard, he drove
even harder.
The Packard went to seventy.
Miller went to seventy-five.
The criminal driver watched with growing despair as - whatever tricks he tried - the police car stayed glued in the rear view mirror. "No use, boss." he said fearfully. "I've done my best, and they're gaining."
"Yeh!" the shorter gangster added, clutching at his seat. " And we're almost out of road. I knew I should have brought my piece."
"Just hold tight," their gang-land leader answered. "I'm gonna call the big boss." He reached for the dashboard and pick up a big silver microphone. "Car One to Sky Eye. Come in Sky Eye."
There was a sharp hiss, then a strangely accented voice responded. "We read you, Car One."
"Tell the big boss we have a problem. The cops are on to us."
There was another brief hiss before the voice returned. "The Leader asks if you can evade the authorities and return to base?"
The big gangster shook his head, even though a radio could not be expected to see him. "I don't think so." He looked back at the police car as it drew still closer. " Cop driving knows what he's doing. They stayed with us down Dead Man's Curve, and if we bring em any farther...?" He left the threat unfinished but obvious.
"Acknowledged." The hiss returned, then a squeal. "We are viewing them now. Pursuit will be discouraged. Sky Eye out."
The gangster hung up the microphone and took a firm grip on his seat. "Floor it, leadfoot! We don't want to be caught in the Copulatronic Ray!"
The driver nodded, and and the Packard leaped forward with a shudder.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"Damn!" Sargent Miller muttered. "Those guys got one hot driver."
"Right." O'Doul's fingers were white as he clung to the frame of the car. " But you're hotter." He nodded at Miller, then fixed his eyes on the road. "They haven't fired on us. We'll be OK unless we see a......"
A pulsing wave of rosy light surrounded the car.
"Pink flash?" Sargent Miller asked, his voice suddenly tight.
"Mary and Joseph!" O'Doul cried. "That was the same pink flash that got me..."
"Hot." Sargent Miller stamped on the break as he finished the sentence. "So hot!" He slipped the transmission, allowing the car to idle over to the side of the road, then die. "You were so hot, there in the museum, with that big beautiful cock of yours just hard and aching..."
"Yes, hot." Patrolman O'Doul grabbed for his partner's tie and pulled it off. "Hot for you." He ripped open the blue uniform shirt, ignoring the brief twinge as the sharp metal buttons slapped his cheek, and brought his face down to nuzzle the tight nipples nestled in man's thick brown chest hair. "I want to be hot - for you."
Miller did likewise, tearing at the heavy uniform until he had the younger officer bare from neck to knees. He squeezed O'Doul's growing erection in his big fingers and growled. "I am hot. Hot for this big cock of yours. Hot for this tight hard ass. Hot every time I see you in the showers."
"Hot for you." The young cop reached for Millers zipper and quickly freed his growing manhood. "Hot when I see you sweating at the weight bench." O'Doul bent lower, stroking his tongue along the tip of Miller's shaft."Hot to feel your strong thighs." he licked again, savoring the salty taste of male fluid. "Hot to lick on those big balls. Hot to have you jam this long cock up my ass and make me your bitch."
"I'm gonna fuck you, O'Doul." Miller pushed the pastry box aside and rolled them down on the bench seat. "I'm gonna ride you like a pony." He undid his belt and pushed down his heavy uniform trousers. "I'm gonna fuck you hard and fuck you deep and make you scream for all those times I couldn't fuck you before." Losing his grip on he young patrolman's cock, Miller instead grabbed him by the waist and flipped him belly down on the hard upholstery.
"Yes!" O'Doul cried, raising his ass. "Hard! I want it hard."
"Damn right it's hard!" Sargent Miller grabbed a chocolate eclair and, breaking it open, scooped out the vanilla cream filling. "You made it hard." He covered his cock, then wiped the rest down the tight crack of his partners ass. "And you're gonna get it hard!"
"Please!" O'Doul begged, driving himself against the calloused finger. "Now! Fuck me now!"
Kneeling on the car bench, he aimed his cock at the narrow ring covered by the pale white filing. Lots of white, Miller thought, but not as much as this boy-whore was gonna have up there soon. "Beg for it!" Miller commanded, grabbing the hard globes of his partners ass in either hand and spread them as wide as he could. "Beg me, bitch!"
"Fuck me!" the young patrolman cried, all restraint lost under the maddening power of the alien ray. "Shove it in me. Drive that big cock so deep you come in my throat!"
"You got it, boy-cunt!" With a hard thrust, Miller drove his cockhead past the tight ring of muscle.
O'Doul screamed, fire filling his body as the wide meat forced it's entrance into his untried passage.
"Tight," the big cop grunted. "So tight. But I'll make you take it!" He pulled back slightly, then plunged forward to claim another few inches. "Make you take it and make you like it!"
"I like it!" O'Doul gasped as his whole body jerked with the force of the big mans drives. "I want it!" His screams fell off to whimpers as Miller drove again and again into his burning channel.
Miller growled. "Then you're gonna get it - all!"
O'Doul twisted helplessly, tormented by the rod piercing him and yet too lost in the ray-induced lust to resist it's lure. Each shudder of his body drove him deeper onto the invading organ, and each moan inspired Miller to another thrust, until with a few more strokes Miller was buried balls-deep in his partners burning passage.
They rested a moment, desperate to catch their breath. "Tight." Miller gasped. "That's good." He leaned back and braced himself on his elbows. "You're gonna be a good fuck."
O'Doul whimpered helplessly, lost in lust, as his sergeant started a steady rhythm of thrusts into his freshly opened ass.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
The junior gangster watched with relief as the police car vanished into the roadside brush. "They're off our tail, boss."
"Yes!" the driver laughed, slowing to take the next curve. "Big boss really got them with that ray!" He shifted down to third, and eased back on the throttle.
"That's why the Boss is the boss." With a flamboyant stretch, the shorter gangster leaned back on the rear seat. "That ray ought to hold em for a while."
"But only a while!" their chief snapped. " Take us straight back to headquarters - now!"
Chapter 8: Mysteries of Science
It was late, almost dark, when Dr. Richard Long and FBI Agent Ashton `Ash' Shafter finally made it back to the house. The upscale neighborhood was quiet, except for the occasional whisper of music or laughter from some distant open window.
Shafter rolled his shoulders as he pulled the Cadillac into the driveway.
"Stiff?" Long asked, reaching out to rest an experienced hand over the FBI agent's neck. It had been a trying day - and a long one - but he was still hoping that Shafter wasn't too tired to consider making it a pleasant evening. Not that Long would push. That wasn't the action of a gentleman, Or a good host. Besides, he had time. And he was beginning to suspect he wanted more from the man beside him then just a few nights entertainment.
Shafter stretched again as pulled up on the hand break. "Just tension. It was..."
"Tough. I know." Long stepped from the car and headed for the front door. "But I know Manlove. He's the type who recovers quickly."
"Manlove, yes." Shafter started to bend down to pick his coat off the rear seat, wincing a bit as his ray-protection shifted with the movement. How did Long? ... David, he reminded himself. How did David manage to stay so calm and unbothered? Shafter knew his host carried a `Pearl' the same size of his own, yet the blond man moved as smoothly as if the surely unfamiliar invader was not bother at all. His admiration for the scientist went up another notch."I'm more worried about the boy, Billy. He seemed to take it really hard." Not that any man wouldn't, Shafter conceded to himself. No *real* man would ever accept the vision of himself laying bound and naked while another man sucked him to orgasm after orgasm. The very thought caused another twinge from the protector. But young Billy struck him as the particularly innocent type.
"He *has* been given a lot to take in," Long unlocked the door, then stood back to wait for his guest, "but I think Manlove will help the lad come to grips with it."
"You don't think he'll hold it against the lad?" Shafter asked as he hurried up the walkway. "I mean, a lot of this seems really hard to swallow."
"Don't worry". Long stepped through behind the agent, put his own coat on the hook. "I know Manlove. He knows how to play it straight when that matters." Play it straight - he added to himself - in every sense of the word. He's know that actor long enough to know that he could *play* it straight or bent. Whatever the script called for. "And Billy looks like he's got the spunk to come out of this just fine."
Although, Long considered mentally, how long that spunk would *remain* in the kid once Manlove got his hands on the boy? Probably not long. But - Long reminded himself - that really couldn't affect matters now. National security came first! And, he comforted his conscience, Manlove was not really going to *hurt* the kid. Billy would probably like it once he got over the shock. Heaven knew, Long added with a private grin, *he* sure had.
Shafter started to hang up his own coat, then paused. "Oh, I forgot." He held out the ring of keys.
Long looked back over his shoulder. "You like the Caddy?"
"Who wouldn't? She's a fine machine." Shafter rolled his shoulders again, reminding Long that the actor was not the only one with instructional plans for tonight. "We sure don't have anything that smooth in the Agency pool."
"Then keep the keys."
Long watched with carefully concealed satisfaction as the FBI agents eyes widened is pleased shock. The expression was carefully covered, but not so quickly that Long couldn't see that the idea had hit home. Good. Not that he wouldn't rely mostly on his own physical attraction, but it never hurt to have that - awareness - that the right friendships can bring a man *all* the pleasures of life.
"Like you said earlier," Long continued smoothly. "You'll need a car." He turned away as if utterly indifferent. "The weather's still food enough that I can use the Aston-Martin." He gave his guest a sly smile. "I've always like the way that Aston moves."
Shafter stood still. Dumbfounded. "You're really going to loan me a Cadillac?"
Actually, Long thought to him self. I'm hoping you'll play your cards well enough that you can keep it. To Shafer he just said, "Why not?"
Shafter looked from the keys in his hand, to Long, to the house, then back to Long. "If you don't mind my asking..?"
"Does the Navy pay that well?" Long gave a bit of a chuckle. "Nope. Dollar a year and they let me ride their boats."
"But this..."
"Family money." Long headed over to the large buffet across from the fireplace. " Grandpa Hardstaff made a bundle in auto's - and my mother was a Quimm. Big in warehouses." He pulled two glassed from the upper cabinet, then set then on the counter. "They lost some if it in the crash, but for the most part?"
Shafter shook his head. "Sorry. Make's me feel like a poor relation."
"Well, you probably are, you know." Long opened the lower door which hid the bar refrigerator. " I'm not quite sure how the Hardstaff's and the Shafter's are connected, but there's a link somewhere. Kissing cousins, I'd imagine." He busied himself with the ice tray, one eyes on Shafter to check how he was taking the idea. Well, Long decided. The man was looking a lot more comfortable with the idea of gifts when he thought it was a `family' thing. "I'll ask my mom next time I see her," Long finished with apparent indifference. Once the glasses were filled he turned back to Shafer. "Drink?"
"You have *alcohol*?" The federal agent was back, and clearly outraged.
Long raised his hands, a glass in one. "A few bottles in the basement. Bought by my father well *before* Prohibition. Completely legal." Long reached into the cabinet and came out with a familiar pale-green bottle. "But I was thinking more of a stimulant."
"Coke?" Shafter held out his hand. "I guess that stuffs OK."
"Give me a moment." Long handed Shafter the glass, then reached for the telephone. "I need to check on the second Orb."
Shafter tried to politely distract himself from the other mans conversation by inspecting the room. He hadn't had much of a chance to check things out earlier, but if he had? Well, Shafter decided, if he had he wouldn't have been so shocked that Long could lend out a Cadillac.
In the midst of Depression, this room screamed wealth. Not the flashy new-money sort the way Manlove's place did, but real wealth. Big paintings in little frames. Not by anybody he could recognize. Hell, Shafter thought, he had a hard enough time figuring out those things were flowers. Really *big* flowers. But the pictures were oil, not prints, and they didn't look like they came from the church rummage sale. And the sofa leather was crackly, but not in the way that age cracked leather. This was *new* leather soft enough to take those creases before it was even on a chair.
Ashton Shafter had dealt with rich people before. that wasn't what worried him. But this was the first time a rich person had wanted to deal back - nicely - with Mrs. Shafter's little boy. And not cause they wanted a break from the Agency. Long had clout enough already. Long was being nice to him for no other reason except that he was... himself. Shafter wasn't quite sure how he should feel about that - but it sort of felt good.
"Good news." Long said as he hug up the phone. "I just spoke to General Ardour. He says the lab is secure." He strolled over to where the brunette man was carefully inspecting a O'Keefe oil. Ignorant, most likely, but the man had a good eye. Ash might repay training - in more sense then one."The laboratory may be far enough from Los Angeles to be outside the criminals rage of influence. Or too heavily guarded to be worth the risk." Neither of which Long was inclined to count on, not that the thieves had both the Rod and one Orb. "Even so.... General Ardour has agreed to put the base on high alert."
Long took a deep drink from his glass, savoring the quick rush. "We'll go out there tomorrow. You need to check on security, and I want to talk with Dr. Wang about some idea I have for a device to track this ray back to it's source."
"For now?" Long looked at this guest. "It's late - and it's been a long day. You hungry?"
Yes, Shafter admitted to himself, he was. He hadn't had much breakfast, and he hadn't wanted to eat anything at Manlove's place, because... a throb on his rear reminded him of exactly why food - and it's consequences - had seemed like a bad idea.
Long nodded as if he could read the other man's mind. "Tell you what. Let's just have dinner and get some sleep."
"You cook?" Shafter was slightly surprised. Weren't rich people supposed to have cooks? Or eat out? Or was Long...Dick... thinking his visitor could manage matters? "Because except for fried eggs...."
"I manage." Long drained his drink. "My mother insisted. Didn't want me to fall for the lures of some predatory girl just because I was hungry." He put the glass down and pointed to the stairs, where a sticker-covered brown case leaned tiredly against the bottom step. "I see the local police delivered your luggage. Why don't you take it upstairs and clean up while I take care of dinner. That is," Long gave his guest an expectant look, " if you don't mind eating in?"
"No." Shafter agreed hurriedly. "Like you say, it's been a long day."
It had been, and even more then he was hungry Shafter was tired. Tired enough that a dinner of eggs and toast - or whatever it was the Doc could come up with - would have to do. He could have some recall food in the morning. But even more then he was hungry he was tired. And even more then he was tired he was... sore. Specifically sore.
Shafter thought a moment, then asked carefully. "Are we safe from the ray in here?"
Long glanced around. "I think so. I had the house hardened against radio waves."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Standing in his bedroom, Long tapped softly on the bathroom door. "Ash. Food's ready." He eased the door open, only to find Shafter indeed there, but leaning heavily against the shower wall. He was biting his lip, as if to suppress some sound. "Are you OK?"
"Sure." The FBI man pulled himself to his feet, wincing slightly. " I'm fine. Just.."
Just *gorgeous* Long thought, taking in his first full frontal view of the FBI man. A view well worth having. Long had seen the Shafter's body before, but only from the rear. The front view was... mouth watering. Even half- flaccid, his cock was a treasure of long thickness. Nearly as big as many men were when erect. And Long knew from memory there was still more to come. So to speak.
Not that the rear was a bad perspective, Long conceded. No wonder they called him `Hard Ass' Shafter. And well named, too. Which was apparently the immediate problem.
"Oh, I'm sorry." Long hurried over, taking the man by the arm and helping him as he stepped gingerly over the side of the tub. "I should have thought." Long reached for towel. "Relax, Ash. Remember that I *am* a doctor." He unfolder the towel, but -instead of handing it over - Long spread it carefully over the washstand counter. "You could injure yourself."
Shafter looked at his host, uncertain. "I didn't want to..."
"Ask?" Long finished briskly. `Of course not. You're the self sufficient type, and I know you're not afraid of a little pain." He reached into the medicine cabinet and pulled out a small silver tube. "But you have to make sure you can do your duty again tomorrow."
"I...ah." The agent made his way over. Slowly. "Well... I..."
Long patted the counter, indication where the other man should rest . "Just bend over."
"Doc?" Shafter gave the set up a nervous look.
"Unless you'd rather go downstairs to the lab?"
"Uh no..." Shafter assumed the position.
Long rested one hand on Shafter's back, and scooped up the tube of ointment with the other. "Just let be loosen thing up a bit," he said, squeezing a thin line of white cream between the agent back cheeks. Ointment he then rubbed carefully around the reddened back entrance. "My you are tight. Must be the tension of the day." Long added more cream, then pushed just the tip of his finger past the quivering muscle. "A little cream and..." Long grasped the scarab charm that hung outside the entrance, connected to the pearl inside by a fine gold chain.
"Uh." Shafter muffled a...scream? Moan? He wasn't sure himself what to call it. That had *hurt* - yes. But not hurt in the same the way it had hurt when he had tried removing the protective plug in the shower. Was there , he wondered, such a things as a *good* hurt? Certainly part of him was thinking there might be. Shafter pulled the towel closer.
"There." Long held the device forward where Shafter could see it. "It pops right out."
"Thanks, Doc."
"Dick." Long corrected, dropping the Pearl into a covered cup of cleanser.
"Dick." Shafter started to rise.
"Not yet." Long pressed the agent back down. "Let me check." Long could feel his patient shiver slightly as Long bent down and separated the form back cheeks, peering closely at the flushed ring from which the jeweled artifact had emerged. "Looks good." Long reassured the man. "A little redness, but that's only to be expected. This is your first day wearing a... device." He stroked a bit of tissue gently over the tender flesh. "But there's no tearing. That's the important thing." And no bleeding, Long added to himself. Which meant that there was no need to delay the nest step in his plan.
Long reached into a drawer for another unmarked tube. "Now just a little medicine" he told Shafter. "To make sure you don't develop any infections."
And, Long added to himself, to make sure you are not *too* comfortable - or uncomfortable - for what I have in mind. He squeezed a bit of the compound up the brunette man's back passage, careful not to get nay on his own fingers. then let the agent stand up.
Shafter pulled the towel with him, holding it where it could almost conceal his sudden hardness. "I'm sorry that..
Long waved it off. "Don't worry. It's just anatomy." He reached under the counter and pulled out a larger towel. "You can't be blamed to the responses of your nerves."
Shafter wrapped the towel around himself gratefully.
Long pretended not to notice. Instead, he reached into the linen closet and picked a black and white bundle off the top shelf. A bundle he handed to Shafter, saying "Let me loan you a something more comfortable to wear..."
Shafter looked at the unexpected garments. "You do jujitsu?"
"And a little karate. My father insisted it was the best exercise. After swimming. " Long turned to the door. "Want to hit the mat with me sometime?"
No wonder the man was in such prime shape, Shafter thought. FBI agents got a little training, and the teachers at the academy had all looked like Long. Dick. Well, he conceded ruefully, maybe not *quite* like...Dick. They hadn't had the coin-blond hair or the sky-blue eyes or the smooth tanned skin or the... whatever. Shafter brought his mind back to order. The point was that they *had* muscles like Longs. And those muscles had been even stronger then they looked.
This was no sissy academic. Tough in mind. Tough in body. This was a man Shafter suddenly knew he could learn a lot from.
Shafter stepped forward. "Sure, Dick. I'd love..." A sudden flare of heat behind him caught his attention. "But,.. uh... maybe later?"
Long smiled. "Sure. I wouldn't want you to be sore in the morning."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Ash Shafter made his way carefully down the stairs. It felt a bit strange to be wearing gym gear in he house, but the tenderness that followed each sudden movement made him grateful for the soft fabric. And the loose fit. He had considered going back in he shower and...taking care of matters... but that would have delayed dinner. And perhaps called for explanations. And four times in the same day *had* to be dangerous. Three already was bad enough. He could probably have a stroke or something. Shafter wished he could ask Dick, but that was the type of subject a guy never brought up. Not even with a doctor.
The kitchen was empty. So, when he checked, was the dining room. So where was?
"Over here!" Long's voice called from the open glass window.
Or was that a door? Shafter slid back the screen and stepped outside.
A small round table at the far end of the patio. Two wide folding chairs, floral pads covered with heavy lap rugs, sat to either side.
Long was standing by a small charcoal grill.
"Doc- Dick." he corrected himself. "What is this?"
"Dinner" Long pointed to the table, already set up with bright plates and cups. Not to mention a bowl of rolls and a huge bowl of something green. "I thought we'd eat on the patio."
Shafter stared instead at the thick steaks hissing on the grill. Big, thick steaks, circles with wide bands of bacon. "I was expecting maybe grilled cheese - or eggs." He tried to pull his gaze away, but failed. "Not..."
Long flipped the meat, sending a burst of delicious smoke Shafter's way as the fat splashed the hot coals. "I believe in the natural diet. Pure range-grown beef, fresh vegetables, multi-grain health rolls." He gave the meat a quick shake of seasoning. "Herbs rather then salt."
Shafter swallowed quickly to keep from drooling. "Gee. I thought all you... health types..." He swallowed again. "No offense..."
"None taken." Long forked the steaks and dropped then on the a waiting platter. "Al lot of people think that if you care about your body, you must chew on roots and run around wearing sacks." He handed the platter to his guest, enjoying the growl as the full impact of fine sirloin his the agent's hungry stomach. "But I assure you that is Far from the truth." Long dropped a lid on the grill and headed over to the table. "My parents were founders of the Physical Culture movement, and they taught me to *enjoy* the pleasure of life. Food included."
Shafter came over and set down the platter - reluctantly. "That must be why you're so... um...healthy."
Damn! Shafter rebuked himself. What a thing to say to another guy! But Long seemed to take it OK. Must be because he's a doctor, Shafter decided. They probably talk about peoples... health... all day. Even about how good their muscles look.
Shi.... he winced. Did he say that last out loud?
"Thanks." Long settled himself into one comfortable chair. "You look like a healthy sort your self. Great muscle tension.
See. Shafter thought. It's still OK. Nothing personal about it.
"But I'm sure your girl tells you that all the time." Long continued.
"Don't have a girl." Shafter sighed. "Wish I did."
"Big guy like you?"Long speared the bigger steak and dropped it on Shafter's plate. "I find that hard to believe."
"Don't seem to meet the good ones." Shafter reached for his glass, and filing it from the pitcher of iced tea. "Don't seem to have much time, either. The job keeps me on the go."
"Well, when you get one she'll be lucky." Long held out his own glass. "You could use a little lat work, though," the doctor added, nearly causing Shafter to drop his fork under the impact of the doctor's appraising look. "You've got a nice four pack, but with your natural assets?" Long buttered a roll, then passed the basket to his guest. "I think you could get at least to six. Maybe eight, if you did the right bench work." He gave the FBI agent another look. "In your business you want to be as fit as possible."
"Gee Doc.." Shafter didn't know why, but he was oddly... troubled... that Long might think he was getting soft. Agency honor, he told himself quickly. " Dick. Do you think...?"
"We can all get better." Long helped himself to a large portion of salad. "I'll check you out thoroughly when we have more time."
He looked over at His guest, who was still looking at the steak. "I hope you don't mind tonight's dinner
"Mind?" Shafter sliced off a nice chunk. The inside was still red, and rich juices flooded his mouth from the moment it touched his tongue. Without thinking, he closed his eyes. "Gee - this is good!" Shafter hastily cut off another bit. "Even without catsup!"
Long speared a bit of green from the salad and held it out. "I don't know if you've ever had this before?"
Shafter looked at the green and yellow cube uncertainly. Salad he had had. A few times. Lettuce, and tomato. And sometimes onions or pickles. With Italian dressing. But this? This was olives and little corn and... whatever that was.
"Avocado." Long answered the unspoken question. "Grown in my own back yard."
"No." Shafter hesitated. "I never..."
Long leaned forward, lips quirked up at a half-smile. "I hope you aren't one of those men who is afraid to try out new things." He wagged the bit of fruit enticingly. "I promise you, I'd never suggest something I didn't think you would enjoy."
Shafter snatched the green bit and popped it into his mouth. It melted on his tongue. Not `green' tasting - like broccoli or spinach - but not tangy like an apple. It was smooth, and warm, and not-quite-sweet.
"It's great." he said. "All smooth and rich. Nothing like I thought it would taste like."
Long grinned as he watched his guest scoop up more of the salad, taking care to get a full share of the creamy chucks. "There are a lot of tastes that will surprise you," he said, "but I'll think you'll come to like them if you just give it a chance."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Shafter pushed away his plate. The steak was gone, and so was most of the salad. Not to mention several of the whole-grain rolls. He gave the remails an appreciative look. "Heaven help us. That was everything but the cherry pie."
Long chuckled a bit as his guests sated expression. Not quite how he had *planned* to get that expression on Shafter's face, but this early in the game? It would do. The fine shirt. The car. Then the steaks. His FBI man was getting a close-up introduction to how the other half lived. And at least the food part was having an impact. A tad too soon to bring up the fine wines - legal or not - but there was always...? Long stood up and collected the plates. "How about chocolate gram tonight?" he dropped them on the tray and headed back to the kitchen, calling back. "But I'll be sure to have cherry on the menu tomorrow."
Tomorrow or the next day, he thought to himself. It all depended on how well things went tonight. Because there was at least one more step tonight in the seduction of Ashton `Hard Ass' Shafter. In the mean time? Chocolate *never* hurt.
Long returned from the kitchen - bearing two large slices of extra-rich chocolate pie slathered in vanilla custard - just in time to see Shafter stretch mightily. Then wince.
"Still sore?" Long kept his tone to one of professional interest.
The FBI man shifted uneasily. "I'm sorry. I'm..."
"Not supposed to hide things from your Doctor," Long finished, handing Shafter his desert and a fresh fork. Then he sat down and took a bite of his own pie.
Shafter busied himself with a forkful of custard, then said. "I wanted to ask about that." He bit his lip slightly, half- embarrassed. " I suppose I should have asked Dr. Putzoutski, but..." He hesitated again before asking, "Are you a *doctor* doctor or just - like - a professor sort of Doctor?"
"Both, actually." Long answered with a chuckle. "Did you think I was practicing on you without a license? I graduated with an MD when I was nineteen.. then went on into radio physics."
For a man who had just been reassured, Shafter looked strangely horrified. "You're that smart?"
That brought a real laugh. "No." Long shook his head, "my parents are that pushy. Mom ran the college. Didn't I tell mention that she was a doctor?" He took a bite of his chocolate pie, then continued. "That was the main reasons mom and dad came out here. Did got sick back in New York. Nervous exhaustion, you know. So*his* father sent him west to take the cure. And he sent Mom along to make sure dad *took* it."
"Must be good, to have a Doctor for a wife."
"Except for the hours." Long scraped the folk across the plate, picking up the last rich crumbs. "Although they weren't married back then. But I guess there was just something about LA that made them fall in love."
Long suppressed an urge to say something about her `bedside manner'. *He* knew the truth about his parents courtship. Both his parents had be unfashionably honest with their children. But he suspected that Shafter would be shocked at the implications that respectable married people even *had* sex - must less told their children about it. A bit too much of the straight arrow in Shafter. Of course? Long smiled to himself. That just made it all the more fun to bend him. Instead he brought the conversation back into more productive channels with, "You don't look comfortable. You did use the ointment I gave you?"
"Yes Doc." Shafter answered, But he shifted in his chair as he did so.
"Dick." Long corrected. "And it would be better if you told me the truth."
"Truth?" Shafter shrugged. "It feels like I sat on a hot poker."
"Not that you've ever tried that, right?"
"Right." Shafter smiled slightly. "But if I had? I think it would feel like this. It doesn't *hurt* exactly, but I feel - warm - back there where the pearl was."
"Swollen, and just slightly tender?" Long asked in his most professional voice. "Plus a deep unfamiliar awareness? A sense of fullness? And the sensation almost like you might need to urinate?"
"That's it exactly." Shafter was relieved. This must be something normal, if Dick knew about it. It was just something he hadn't run into yet, that's all. But it couldn't be too serious, since the man who knew about these things didn't seem terribly worried. Just interested.
"Hmmm." Long made a show of rubbing his chin and looking very professional. "I think this calls for the electra- vibrational- dermal- stimulator.
"What?" Shafter asked.
"The electra- vibrational- dermal- stimulator." Long repeated. "My mother invented it."
Shafter looked over, uncertain again. "Your *mother*?"
"I told you Mom was a Doctor." Long gathered up the empty desert plates and set them on the tray. They could wait for the maid. Right now he had a more important task at hand. "And I can assure you, that is just the treatment you need."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Long pulled down the spread on the guest bed. Then the blanket.
"Undress," he instructed Shafter, who was standing uncertainly just inside the doorway. "Then lay down on the bed and get comfortable. Rest you hips on the pillow."
"Uhh." The brown-haired man stepped forward cautiously. "Face down or...?"
"It doesn't matter. "Long shook out a large towel and laid it over the bottom sheet. "Whatever makes you the most comfortable. Down might be easiest." Tucking a spare pillow under the towel, he turned and headed over to the bathroom. "Either way, this really shouldn't take more then fifteen minutes or so."
When Long returned with the electra- vibrational- dermal- stimulator, his guest was resting face down on the bed. Not - long thought to himself - that *resting* was exactly the definitive word. The man was jumpier then a cat facing a tub full of bubbles. And about as happy. Still, he *was* in position, and that is what counted. First times were always problematic. The trick was making the first time good enough to assure that there *was* a second.
In this case, Long smiled to himself as he plugged in the device and picked out one of the many attachments, there was the *added* trick of keeping Mr. Straight-Arrow Shafter in the dark as to what was happening - even when he was the one it happened to. Still, Dr. Quimm-Long hadn't raised a fool.
Nor had Mrs. Shafter, Long suspected. But she had raised a `good boy'. Which, for his purpose, was nearly one and the same thing. He smiled wider. `Hard ass' wouldn't know what hit him. Even when it had.
He started with the plain flat head.
Shafter jerked when he heard the whirr, then the low buzz.
"Relax." Long patted him gently on the low back. "This may tingle a little."
He ran the flat head lightly over both ass cheeks, letting the vibrations ease the way into the deeper muscle. And also, Long considered, letting his patient get used to the idea.
"This is real medicine?" Shafter asked.
"Absolutely." Long moved the head higher, into the innocent territory of the man's upper back. Relaxed back muscles would help give a relaxed Shafter., and a relaxed Shafter would be *much* easier to persuade. "They even use a form of it in the hospitals - with Polio cases."
Long ran the slowly warming pad over the agents tight neck muscles, waiting until he relaxed under the gentle massage before moving back down to more interesting terrain.
"Placed on the damaged organ," Long continued, "the electro-vibrational pulse stimulate the nerves and increasers the blood flow." He ran the unit over the top if Shafter's thighs. "There. You can probably feel the heat starting already."
"It does feel... good."
"I'm glad. I want you to feel good." Long gave another slow pass to the back cheeks, the quickly changed to attachment to a narrow rubber probe. "Of course, to really cure it must be applied to the source of the injury."
And, Long thought, all that earlier lubrication should make him open enough to do just that. "Just take a deep breath, then let it out slowly while I slide this in."
Long acted as he spoke, Sure enough, the slender length of soft rubber went up easily, drawing no more then a sharp `huff' from the man on the bed.
"Hoe does that feel?"
"Good... but..."
Tong twisted the probe. "What about that?"
"Uh..." Shafter humped involuntarily against the pillow.
"Good." Long increased the current. Normally he liked to play with his toys, but he didn't have the luxury of too much time. Hard and fast would have to suffice. He needed to catch Shafter before he could start thinking. "Just a bit more."
"But..." Shafter shifted, trying not to be obvious as he rubbed his sudden erection against the terry cloth.
"Just ignore that." and he mover the probe again and again over his subjects tender prostate. "That's just a minor side effect."
"But..."
"If I put it on your shoulder - your fingers would tingle." Long said, trying to project innocent reassurance. "This is no different." He reached for Shafter's hand and and wrapped the man's fingers firmly around his swollen shaft. "In fact, you might want to help it."
In about three pumps, Shafter shook with a hard orgasm.
"There," Long gently pulled out the probe. "Doesn't that feel better?"
But you..." Shafter rolled over, clasping his hands over his now spent organ. "You..."
"Helped you to feel better. To *be* better." Long considered licking off the fluid, then decided it would be wiser to wipe his hand on the towel instead, At least until Shafter was more accustomed to the new way of things. "Clearing the corrupted fluid is healthy for all the lower organs."
Shafter was confused. Men touching other men was indecent. Hideous. Disgusting. But Long was a doctor. And it was his*mother* that had invented that machine. And they used it for *polio*, which was a children's disease. And people would never do anything... wrong... around children. So... "I thought.." he began slowly.
"Ignore what they taught you in Military Hygiene." Long made a show of industriously setting aside the equipment. "Mother was one of the leaders in the mind-body morality movement, and she was every insistent that the stale fluid should be purged at least once a day to keep the system pure and clean." He rolled up the power cord, then slipped off the long probe.
"You don't mean?" Shafter's voice hovered somewhere between horror and deliverance. It was hard enough to discuss this. Even indirectly. Even with another man. Even when that other man was a doctor. Even when that other man was a doctor who had just *seen*... Shafter put the image out of his mind. But a *mother*? You could never tell your *mother*. Yet Dr. Long sounded sincere, and *he* was certainly a decent man. A scientist. With a high security rating.
Long seemed oblivious to Shafter's expression as he answered. "She'd ask - every morning - just like if I washed behind my ears."
Shafter shuddered a bit, but..."And it worked?
"Between vitamin therapy, Physical Culture, regular exercise, and a fresh diet?" Long stood up and smiled. "I haven't had a sick day in my life."
Chapter 9: Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch.
Eric Manlove tapped softly on the gleaming oak door of the guest room he had assigned to Billy Bung.
No answer.
He knocked louder.
Still no response.
Finally a single hard slap which brought out a startled....
"Whaaa?"
Manlove decided to take that as an invitation. Bugger it. In his years he had taken less likely sounds for `come right on in', and for the most part it had paid off. Except for that one bit with the second supporting actress and the three dancing poodles. That was maybe something by the way of a mistake. Still. All for all it hadn't been so bad a policy. Look where he was today?
Corr. Manlove's ego snarled at him.. You're outside your own bloody guest room, waiting on some bloody chit of a lad. And all because you like the taste of him. Go on. There are plenty of other lads out there who would come you you eager.
Pah! Manlove's conscience - or what passed for one - replied. Eager for money, or for fame, or for their chance o be a *star*. Don't fool yourself that their all that after your ruddy cock!
Hush up, he told them both. I'll have you know had the blokes a good bit *before* I had the gold or the fame. It's no way behind me. I could still seduce any chap I wanted.
And you want this one? both voices asked.
Right O.
Eric Manlove smiled a bit as he tucked away *both* voices. Who said talking to yourself wasn't productive.
"Billy?" he called, stepping through the door. The object of his quest sat huddled miserably in the large armchair, knees pulled nearly to chin, head down until only the top of his flaming hair was seen. When he looked up at the older man, his cheeks were wet.
*Damn*, the lad was toothsome.
"Tears?" Manlove reached out one finger to touch the dampness on Billy's face.
"I'm sorry." Billy sniffed, and dashed at the wetness with his shirt sleeve. "I know crying's not very manly - but..." He swallowed hard, "... I'm not much of a man."
Manlove rested his hand on the thin shoulder, feeling the faint quivers that still passed through the slight frame. "Billy," he said in his kindest voice.
"I'm not a kid, Mr. Manlove." Billy looked up, deep pain bruising his emerald eyes. "I know what they call guys who let other guys...." he shivered, "do that.. to..."
"Billy." The actor knelt down to hug the lad, only to feel him stiffen under his arms. He let go, and sat on the padded chair arm instead, waiting until Billy had relaxed to continue. "Billy." He pitched his voice low. Comforting. Dr. Long told you it was the ray. You had no choice."
Billy shook his head fiercely. "I didn't have to enjoy it."
Manlove sighed. Loud enough to be heard. "You enjoyed it, so you think you're not a man." He gave Billy a careful look, checking his audience. "Do you think I'm a man?"
That worked. Billy half fell from the chair in shock. "OH! Mr. Manlove." the lad stammered as he twisted around in the chair, nearly tumbling out in his hurry to face his host. "You? You're about the manliest man ever. I remember - in Sands of Passion - when you kissed Mona d'Sire and she just *swooned*."
Got `im. Manlove moved closer, sliding an arm around the boys shoulders. And this time, he noticed with satisfaction, there was no resistance.
"So you're saying you don't blame me for what happened under the ray? Even though I was the one with..."
"Heck no! Mr. Manlove!" Billy cut him off. "It was all my fault! If I hadn't been - what I guess I am... then you..." Billy couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence, but Manlove got the idea.
"Right." he said slowly. "It's not my fault because I... make the ladies swoon?"
"Well, yes." Billy's eyes went wide, surprised that anyone would even ask so obvious a question. "Yes, sir."
"And you?" Manlove posed a bit, letting Billy see him think. "You think you don't please the ladies?"
Billy slumped down, miserable again. "I don't know any ladies. Not even any girls."
None? Manlove hid a smile. This was going to be even sweeter then he had thought. "So you're a virgin?" he asked, calling on the talent that had won Oscars to keep the wolf-edge of interest out of his tone.
"If a..." Billy shuddered again. "Yes. I am." His voice broke, then rose in a wail. "And now I'm always gonna be..."
Not for much longer, you wont be, my pretty boy. Manlove's ego crowed. Not in any sense of the word. Not when I get done with you.
Of course - his conscience reminded him - he couldn't just throw the lad on the rug, pull down his knickers, and give his pretty freckled bum a quick in-and-out from the old love-root. OK, it conceded to his howling ego. He *could*. And not much Billy or anyone else could do if he did.
But - Manlove reminded them both - that wouldn't bring him what he wanted. Where as... with a bit of patience... a touch of cunning....
He slid a finger under Billy's stubborn chin and forced his face up until Manlove could gaze straight on into the lads eyes. "But if you *had* had a woman," Manlove paused, as if uncertain. "then you wouldn't be...unnatural."
"Heck no!" Billy bit his lip, uncertain of he was being mocked. He didn't think a great guy like Eric Manlove would do a thing like that, but didn't he *understand*?
Maybe, he thought to himself, it was just that - working with all those sophisticated, high-class Hollywood actors, Mr. Manlove hadn't met any of the low types that newspaper people did. He didn't learn about the pansy-boys. Or maybe they just didn't dare come around a real man like the actor. Well, not until stupid Billy had messed up everything. And it took a magic ray to do that. A magic ray and a cheep little pervert.
That had to be it, Billy decided. How else could so a wise man ask so silly a question. "Everybody knows that's the cure." Hope flared in the depth of jewel-green eyes, then vanished. "But where is a nancy like me gonna find a girl?"
Got him! Manlove's ego smiled, giving the old conscience an elbow to the ribs.
"Miss D'Lite likes you." Manlove let just the edge of a leer leak into his smile. "I can tell by the way she looks at you."
"Do you think she would?" Billy looked up, uncertain but hopeful. "I ... I wouldn't know what to do. Even before I was a..." he faltered. "I'm scared."
And I'm in like Flynn!, Manlove's ego crowed.
"Because you don't know what to do?" the older man asked gently.
Billy nodded.
"I know what to do."Manlove smiled gently. "Suppose I showed you? Stayed with you?"
"Gee." Billy beamed, open worship shining in his emerald eyes. "Would you really do that? For me?"
Manlove gave Billy a gentle hug, reveling in the sudden softness, the delightful warmth of the utterly trusting body pressed against his. "Let me have a word with Fifi."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
It was an hour latter when they met again. They were again in Billy's room, but this time no one was crying.
Billy, fresh from his shower, was understandably nervous. Not only because of his upcoming seduction, but also - perhaps even more - because he was apparently accustomed to sleeping in flannel pajamas.
That, Manlove thought, was a bad habit he had no intention of permitting. Not tonight. Not ever. Manlove could afford central heating - even for a pile like this. Billy could learn to sleep in the delectable nude.
A least - Manlove's ego piped up - until the little chap could be introduced to even *more* delectable garb. Like silk. And leather.
For this first time? Manlove had compromised by loaning Billy a robe.
Really, he thought, he was too good to the lad.
Manlove didn't bother with one himself, once he was past Billy's door. He had nothing to be ashamed of. A few gray hairs, yes. But the hard body that had made him the hero of a thousand forgettable action thrillers has still hard. Still lean. And the ten inches that had made him the favorite of the Hollywood produces? Male and female? That was still as impressive as ever.
Billy as trying hard *not* to look. Or at least not to be *caught* looking. Manlove had see the twitch of the kids eyes every time Billy thought he wasn't being observed, and they always went right to the same spot. The *right* spot, as far as Manlove was concerned. He smiled, then shifted so his thighs were just a bit wider apart. Let the boy get an eyeful.
Not that the lad had cause to blush himself, Manlove considered, thinking back to the memories of the afternoon. Not huge, no. But that was all to the good. Easier, for the few times Manlove might let the lad up top. But his organ was pretty and smooth, with a rosy cut head and neat little balls tucked into a wildfire of red thatch. Very tasty. And still quite big enough to please any lady - or gent - on those occasions when `Erring Eric' found himself in a sharing sort of mood.
While he was musing, FiFi D'Lite tapped once on the door, then let herself in.
"Fifi." Manlove glanced at the curvatious blonde in her near-transparent wrapper, then stood up and crossed over to the bedside where the `guest of honor' was nervously pacing. "Meet Billy." He pulled off the sash, and slid the over large velvet robe off the boys shoulders. "And little Billy."
"Tres bon! But not so little, I think, either of them." The young woman answered, staring openly at Billy's engorged organ. "Je suis *so* pleased to meet *both* of you."
Billy just stared - open mouthed, Like it was the first time he had ever seen a naked woman. Which, Manlove realized with shock and a growing amusement, it quite likely was. His little virgin was virgin all the way. How rare. And how sweet.
"Go ahead, Billy." Manlove urged, "You should kiss a lady when she stands like that."
Billy pulled his eyes away from their current interest - the apparently fascinating sight of the maids almost bare breasts - to focus on the lips several inches above his own. "But... she's?"
"Taller then you?" Manlove focused on Billy as he helped the woman out slip off her last wisp of transparent chiffon, reveling in the constant dance of bush and pale as Billy's face showed every moment of the conflict between his lust and his uncertainty. Lord, the boy was hot. "Perhaps we should lay down?" Manlove suggested, sliding into the bed and patting the mattress to indicate the others should follow. "Then there will be no height difference."
Fifi came over eagerly, gently shoving a befuddled Billy in before her.
Manlove rolled to his side, tucking Billy nicely against him, while Fifi snuggled up in the other side. Perfect, he thought. We both get the side that interests us most. Not that he was going to get the benefits of his side right off. Not without making Billy cry again. Which was something he hadn't necessarily minded in the past - with others - but with Billy seemed a strangely off-putting thought. No, he wanted Billy eager in his bed, which likely meant bringing him over slowly. Not a problem. Studio politics had taught Manlove patience. And tactics. And the art of persuasion. And Billy was worth the use of all of them.
"Start by sliding your arm under she shoulders," he told Billy, grasping the lads arm and sliding it under the maids. "Very nice. Pull her closer now."
Manlove smiled as Billy did just that, awkward but eager. And not too clumsy. The boy had good instincts. "With your free hand," he continued, "Stroke her breasts."
Billy did so.
Fifi gave a slightly theatrical moan, causing Billy to shiver and nearly drawing a *real* moan from Manlove.
"They're so soft." Billy's voice was a whisper.
Fifi arched forward, pressing the full flesh deeper into Billy's palm. "You can squeeze then a bit, Billy cherie," she encouraged him. "They aren't plastic. They wont break."
"Touch her nipples." Manlove urged. "See how soft they are? But they'll grow hard under your fingers. Just like your nipple will." Manlove reached around as he spoke, teasing Billy's nipples into hard little nubs under his experienced touch. The boy was *very* responsive, he smiled to himself as another shiver went through the pale body. Good. He thought a moment, then asked,"Would you like Fifi to lick your nipples?"
She caught the hint, and did so. Thoroughly. With extra tongue.
"Uh...' The shivers turned to a shake.
Very nice, Manlove thought, running a hand down Billy's quivering abdomen. The lad was almost ready.
"Now you try it," he directed, easing his hand a bit lower during the distraction. Raising his voice slightly, he asked," Fifi? would you like it if Billy licked your nipples?"
"Uhhh!" The shake turned to a spasm, and Billy shot helplessly over Manlove's hand.
"That's all right, Billy." Manlove rubbed the boys back as he thrust helplessly against the air. "It's not ruined. You can get hard again." He reached over to the nightstand, picking up a linen hand cloth. "Let me clean you up." He blotted t the spilled fluid, incidentally taking every opportunity to run the slick cloth over Billy's shaft and sack, He kept up until he heard Billy moan and felt the organ swell again under his hand. "Yes. you can get hard again. I can feel your balls filling already."
Billy was young. And eager. And Fifi was beautiful. And talented. Within five minutes he was utterly hard again.
At Manlove's nod Fifi rolled over onto her back, clutching Billy's shoulders and drawing him over with her. He landed in near-perfect position. And happy to be there, Manlove noted. The lad was gaining confidence.
"Slide her legs apart." he urged Billy.
"A bit wider - Fifi dear."
Not that the blonde needed the instructions, Manlove conceded. Billy was cute. And a quick learner. And by the second time he was ready the boys strokes and kisses had firmed up enough to truly get her into the mood. But, he shrugged, there was a bit of the director in every actor. And it was time to get this show on the road.
Manlove grasped Billy's hand - currently busy at Fifi's breast, and urged it lower. "Stroke her here." Manlove pulled Billy's fingers through her nest of carefully tended curls. "Down her belly, then up between her thighs"
Manlove released the palm, and Billy took up the movement with enthusiasm.
Fifi shivered, and it wasn't all acting.
"Now higher," Manlove urged. "Very gently now. Girls are delicate." He stroked down Billy's back, brushing a fingertip lightly over the back of the lads balls. "Can you feel the lips?" he whispered. "Soft, aren't they? Soft and a little full, because she's getting eager for you."
Billy whimpered.
So did Fifi.
Manlove leaned closer. pressing along side both of them. "Feel forward,"he said. "Right at the front. Can you feel a little nub?"
He waited until Billy swallowed hard, then croaked out `Ya..."
"Good," Manlove purred encouragingly. `That's her clit. It's like a little baby cock." He ran his finger forward, tickling the base of Billy's shaft to illustrate. "If you stroke her there you will make her feel *so* good."
He did so.
Fifi whimpered.
Manlove smiled.
"I think that she's ready," he told Billy. "Try one finger first. Slide in in...gently."
Fifi whimpered again.
"Wet?" Manlove asked.
Billy held up a juice-dripping finger.
"That's good." Manlove patted Billy on the shoulder. "You did that very well, Billy." He glanced down, checking Billy's eager erection. "And you are ready too." He gave Billy a light swat on the rump. "Move forward," he instructed. "You can lay down to kiss her, but don't put all your weight on her. Girls need to breath too, you know."
As Billy quickly obeyed, Manlove turned to Fifi. "Are you ready?"
"Oh, yes." She raised her ass up with a wiggle, helping Billy to get into position.
"Please Billy." She cooed up at the lad, fluttering her long sable eyelashes. "You've make me so passionate. Take me, I'm your's."
Billy shivered.
Manlove felt it and - almost - moaned.
"Gently then." Manlove reached below Billy, gently claiming his cock and guiding it toward it's goal. "Just the head first."
Manlove's fingers brushed Fifi's lower lips open as Billy pressed forward. He felt the surge of juice, the the faint `pop' as the flared head of Billy's virgin staff pressed inside.
Fifi gasped.
Billy moaned.
"How does that feel?" Eric Manlove asked unnecessarily.
Billy bucked.
Manlove held him back.
Billy twisted.
Manlove gripped harder.
"Is it good, Billy?"
Billy swallowed, hard, then whispered. "It... it feels ... so good, Mr. Manlove. Almost like.." he shook, unable to finish.
"Almost like my mouth around your cock," Manlove purred. "It's very similar." He gave Billy's balls a quick rub, reveling in the shivers it drew from he desperate lad. "But with girls you can push forward."
Manlove relaxed his hold, permitting Billy to slip forward another inch.
"Huuuuh!" Billy pleaded.
"Deeper." Manlove said, allowing Billy another thrust. "Then still a little deeper." He drew back his hand, allowing Billy to plunge full-length into warm pussy.
"Ahhhh!" Billy moaned.
"Oooooh!" Fifi sighed.
"Good lad." Manlove purred. "Now you just move in and out. In and out. In and out."
In that, Billy did not need much instruction. Freed of constraint, he was bucking instinctively. More action then grace, but grace enough that Fifi evidently had no complaint. She was gripping the sheets , and her eyes were rolling back.
Billy came in just a few strokes.
Manlove, feeling kindly towards the woman, reached down to finish off Fifi. She had done well. And he suspected Billy would be more pleased if his partner came as well.
There was a long, almost quiet time as each of the pair lay trying to catch their breath.
Fifi was the first to recover, sitting up and shaking back her hair. She smiled at Billy, who had collapsed flat on the sheets with an expression somewhere between a three-year-old's on Christmas morning and a convict who's execution had just been commuted, and licked her lips. "Merci, mon homme!"
"Uhhh." Billy shivered, then blushed.
Manlove chuckled. "Did you like that Billy?"
Billy bushed, then paled, then blushed deeper. "Gee, yes, Mr. Manlove!" he stammered, scrambling to sit up. "That was keen."
"And now you know you're a man?" Manlove pressed.
"Mon brave," Fifi cooed, bending over to kiss Billy on the forehead. "You are very much the man."
"I should never have doubted you, Mr. Manlove."Billy straightened, unconsciously thrusting out his chest. "I *promise* I never will again."
"Good lad!" Manlove gave Billy a strong hug, then let him go and rolled own on to the waiting pillows."Lets rest awhile, and then maybe we can try something else."
Billy started to follow, but pulled up short when his leg brushed against Manlove's flaring erection. "Oh"" he cried, staring at the rearing organ. "But... Mr. Manlove... you are..."
"Fifi?" Manlove raised one eyebrow.
"No, monsieur." Fifi slid from the bed, raising both hands in mock protest. "I fear this big man Billy has worn me out. I can do no more!"
"Then maybe, Billy?" Manlove smiled broadly. "You wouldn't mind giving me a hand?"
Chapter 10: Give it Up (for the Lord)
Meanwhile, deep within a cave freshly cut into the side of he San Bernardino Mountains, a sinister meeting is taking place. Let us listen as the aliens further unveil their evil plans.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Erros sat back, enjoying the soft support of the padded leather that covered his new earth-style command chair. The earthing had done well when he had commanded them to furnish his planet-side office. He let his eyes roam over the glossy expanse of the polished oak desk before him. A desk that was but one careful inch shorter then that of Fleet Commander Farttoz. Set on a soft carpet made from the fur of some earth beast. Fine surroundings were just one of the little privileges that came with his new status as a base commander. Privileges like planet-grown foods, and wines forbidden even to earthlings, and of course - he allowed himself to smile at the thought - Spaceman Tanna.
That last was a very enjoyable privilege. The blond female had been far softer and more pleasant then the flabby asses of the low ranking crewmen with which he had previously had to satisfy himself. Plus there was always that special thrill in claiming one of *almost* an equal rank. One where there was at least the *possibility* of protest if the command was too distasteful.
Not that Spaceman Tanna had seemed in any way upset when he had informed her of her transfer to her service. She had not even attempted to defer her service until *after* her engineering work was finished, which she might have done with out risk of rebuke. No, she had reported to his new personal quarters as soon as they had been installed, and had offered her obedience without resistance.
That was only reasonable. Erros considered. In addition to the possibilities for reward, to serve under a strong young warrior such as himself must be more pleasant then to accept the withered organ of an old paper- pusher like Farttoz.
Doubtless that was why she had - subtly - suggested this plan to him.
Wise.
Soon, Erros thought to himself, his plans would raise this entire squadron to triumph. As his second, he would see Tanna honored almost as much as himself. Soon neither of them would have to bend over for any but the *highest* officers of the fleet. Which would *not* , if Erros had any say in the matter, include old Fart-off Farttoz.
But first ... Erros sighed to himself - there was the work to do. After all, To'drot was not pillaged in a day.
He straightened, and flipped on the Electro-Viewscreen.
There was the usual static before the ill-natured face of Fleet Commander Farttoz appeared on he screen.
"Erros." Farttoz snapped. "You are slow in reporting."
Force Commander Erros gave a *very* proper salute. "The earthing agents had some difficulty, and were delayed in returning to the base." And - Erros thought - Fart-off could take that as an apology or not. As he chose.
Farttoz missed the insult - or at least pretended to. "No difficulty they could not handle, I hope?" he asked with knife-edged concern.
"No, Excellency." Erros smiled, confident he was now in a winning position. "Merely the pursuit for some earthing `police'. They were quickly discouraged."
"Let us hope so." Farttoz grumbled, temporarily conceding the point. "We are not yet ready to confront the full forces of the earth creatures. Or are we?"
Good try, Erros thought - but he was not a new recruit to be trapped into over-confident promises. Promises that could later be held againt him to lessen the reward due a successful officer. "We make great progress, Excellency. We have successfully transferred the Orgasmatronic Engines to our earth base, along with the Rod of Ra, and already Spaceman Tanna has installed the first ball." There, the alien commander thought. Now I can tell Tanna I have included her name in the report. For which she should be suitably...grateful. He gazed straight at the screen as he continued. " We wait only on your word to test it."
Farttoz bit his lip, but Erros could tell the man was trapped. The Fleet commander was forced to accept that with a peevish. "Where shall you find a suitable gathering of earth creatures at this time of night."
Erros split the screen, sharing with his Leader a view of the city. "That building." Erros said, pointing to a red-brick building which alone remained lit in the midst of an otherwise quiet neighborhood. "It is a place of gathering for one of the local religions. Our scanners are picking up internal activity. At least a dozen of the earth creatures."
"Very well." Farttoz grumbled. "It will do."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Meanwhile, in the small church below, members of the unsuspecting congregation go about their innocent business.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
O'Doul swallowed hard as he stared at the lengths of sausage, thick and pink, that lay on the fry plate.
The cook - a burly man with a strong resemblance to his Sargent Miller, poked one with a fork. It hissed, spitting clear fat from the opened end.
O'Doul winced.
"Darryl Francis O'Doul!" his mother hissed, giving him a hard poke in his sore rib. "Straighten up! I swear, I don't know what's gotten into you!"
"Just a rough day, mother." O'Doul answered. Damn rough, he added mentally. Strong as the museum demo had been, it was nothing like the real alien weapon. Miller had come in his ass twice - and down his throat between the two. Not to mention the time that Miller had sucked *him* off. They were just lucky that they had been in a radio-blind spot. And that neither of them had torn anything. And that both their uniforms had survived more-or-less intact.
Luckily Miller had agreed to list their delay as a flat tire, complicated by the spare falling into the canyon, and keep the incident out of O'Doul's record. For which he was grateful. He was going to get enough teasing from the Museum incident. If the boys back at the station knew he had actually taken a cock up his ass - and *liked* it? Asked for it? He would never live that down.
Instead, Miller had raided the first aid kit and patched up O'Doul's bruises as best he could. That, plus a day of light duty ( on account of O'Doul having fallen down the canyon while fetching the fallen tire ) would have to suffice.
Most of the real discomfort was gone. With a hot bath and a good nights sleep he might even be ready for duty. If only, O'Doul sighed quietly, he hadn't promised to take his mother to the church supper tonight.
"Is it that Miller?" O'Doul turned swiftly, taking care not to wince as the elderly Mrs. O'Doul gave her son a suspicious glare. "Is he riding you too hard?"
"Um. Mom." O'Doul swallowed. "I think we should go up front. Reverend Wagger is about to start." He grabbed a plate of *whatever* and headed up to the front, taking a seat at the far end.
Reverend Wagger was behind the lectern, already speaking. O'Doul ignored the rapidly cooling sausage on his plate - because there was no *way* he was going to be able to bite something that looked like that tonight - and tried to listen.
"Brothers and sisters." the Reverend was saying. "We are called here by the need to help our fellow man. To lend an ear to the hopeless. To give a smile to the wearied To reach out our hand
to out brothers and sisters."
O'Doul's shifted uncomfortable on the hard bench, then decided to stand. The room wasn't very full. He wouldn't be blocking anyone.
"To give them hand with their burdens." Reverend Wagger continued. "A hand with their labors. A hand with..."
The gathering froze briefly as a pink flash - seemingly from nowhere - filled the room.
Not again! "O'Doul shrugged with resignation and reached for his belt as he felt the waves of lust wash over his body.
"...your cocks. Your big, thick cocks."
The man rushed forward, falling to his knees.
O'Doul was nearest.
"No problem, reverend." O'Doul dropped his pants over the lectern stand even as his swelling shaft was claimed by the moist heat of the man's open throat. He moaned, knees weakening, as he felt and saw the long tongue circle his shaft while Waggers long fingers skillfully stroked his balls. The padre sure knew what he was doing. More then Miller had. Even without the ray, O'Doul thought, this would be good. He shivered again as the reverend pressed a finger against his back side. He might even have fallen, had his shoulders not been steadied by the unseen man behind him.
O'Doul glanced right at a flurry of movement. That was his.... better not to look. He clamped his eyes shut. Better just to take it however it comes. As long as it came. And just be glad when *he* came.
He spread his legs wider as he felt another pair of probing fingers slide between his rear cheeks. There was a hiss of grease and a smell of sage as a thick length of fried sausage was stroked down his crack, then centered on his entrance.
Oh well, O'Doul thought. At least he still had lots of hemorrhoid ointment in there from the repairs of last time. And that sausage wasn't *quite* as thick as Miller had been. And it *would* feel good. Especially with the reverend making like a Kenmore on his cock.
He gasped a bit as the hot length of meat was wiggled past the first muscle, then shoved deep into his channel. It may not have been as thick as his sergeant, but it sure was *long*. Long enough to hit the hot spot in both directions. And - O'Doul realized - a polish sausage wasn't going to cum and get smaller any time soon. Which meant he was it for a *long* poke.
O'Doul considered a protest, but gave it up. Yelling wouldn't help. Not with everyone else as horniy or even hornier then he was. And even if whoever-it-was stopped with the sausage, O'Doul had no doubt that the lust-crazed gathering would find something else to shove up there. Maybe several something.
Not to mention the Reverend would probably stop first. Not a good idea.
As fuckings went, O'Doul decided, bending his knees to give the meat a better angle, this one really wasn't so bad. So he was being reamed by fourteen inches of steaming kelbassa. It's not like he'd have to send flowers in the morning.
He twitched a bit as the unseen hand started moving the hot length in a brink in-and -out motion. A twitch which drove him deeper into the throat before him, and gained him a nip from just-slightly-sharp teeth.
Eyes still shut, he asked over his shoulder. "Just try to take it easy back there, will ya buddy?"
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"Force Commander Erros out." With those words he flipped off the Electro-viewscreen - and his disappointed Fleet Commander.
Old Fart-off had been left with no choice but to complement his triumphant officer. Over the space-frequencies. On the record. In the hearing of several witnesses. Soon, Erros thought with a clear sense of justified pleasure, *he* would be Fleet Commander and old Fart-off would have to bend over for him. Not that he wanted that scrawny ass, of course. But it would be worth taking it - just once - to see the *truly* unhappy expression on the old mans face as he took in the full meaning of his loss of power. A small but real repayment for all the *lost* reports and *delayed* commendations the senior officer had inflicted on his more talented underlings career. And - he reminded himself - it was not like he could not have the tastier Tanna as well. Even at the same time. Rich indeed were the rewards for the officer who brought a new planet in to serve the Leader.
Erros watched with satisfaction as his earth servants watched the Electro-viewscreen with sunned amazement. It was good to remind ones underlings of the forces at their leaders command. Forces that could be used *for* them - or *against* them at their leaders will.
Especially, the considered, these earth creatures. They were useful at the moment, but they lacked the complete obedience of the submissive ranks of his own species. No doubt why less intelligent leaders then himself had failed to rule them properly. They required... a skilled hand.
Even now, the chief among them was regaining his foolish confidence.
"I like that." The tall gangster blustered. "That's good for the navy guys. you got them against the wall. But... but what if they get close to us. Like they did the last time."
"Ya boss." his underling seconded. "I think like maybe I should carry a gat."
"Useless, weak weapons." Force Commander cut the gangster- servant off. Weak, he thought, and also not ours. It was not good to let the lower sorts depend on their own resources. it made them feel clever - and then ambitious The lower ranks should rely on their leaders, and thus obey them.
"Spaceman Tanna has developed a hand-held version of the ray."
He gestured at the female, who stepped forward holding two of the egg-barreled hand-weapons.
The lead gangster took one and looked it over carefully, running a finger from the round tip to the circular chambers where the two sections of fluid waited to be mixed. "Like the big one?"
"Weaker. There is only enough fluid for one target." Tanna answered, "But it will have much the same affect."
"Nifty!" The tall gangster aimed the barrel at his smaller companion. "Yo, Joe."
"No!" Tanna stepped between them. "You only have enough Orgastron Fluid for one shot each." She handed the other pistol to the second man, along with a shoulder holster, then watched as they both put them properly away. "After you have fired your one shot, it will take as long as an hour for the Orgastron Fluid to regenerate." She gave the senior gangster a harsh look. "Do not waste it."
Chapter 11: Manlove's Manner
"Give you a hand?" Billy squeaked, his eyes widening as he surveyed the truly impressive proportions of Eric Manlove's arousal. Hard before, the rearing shaft was now granite, and the flared heat wept pearled tears of pre-cum. He had seen men before, Billy reminded himself. In the bathrooms back at the newspaper. In the showers at the YMCA where he sometimes lived. Lots of men, and sometimes even," Billy swallowed suddenly, "men *that* way. But he had *never* seen anything like this. And Mr. Manlove wanted him to...?
"Like this, lad." Manlove closed his hand over Billy's, guiding the slim fingers as they curled with eager anticipation around his overheated shaft.
"Oh. That." Billy relaxed, allowing his mentor to guide him. Directed by the older man, he gladly brought his fingers over and around the heated flesh, stroking the long vein and rubbing his thumb lightly over the sperm-slick head.
"Firmer, Billy." Manlove directed, thrusting into the tunnel of their joined palms. "It won't break off."
"Yes, sir!" Billy set to work with a smile, sliding one hand up and down the overwhelming length and sliding the other below to fondle the actors equally impressive balls. This he could do, Billy thought. Indeed, this he was practically as *expert* at , although the crowed bunk rooms and shared baths of the young men's boarding houses had never given him the privacy to practice quite as much as he might have desired. But desperation is the mother of invention, and Billy had found secure corners often enough to have grown familiar with the benefits of his own fingers. He knew what felt good. He just had never had the opportunity to try the effect on any *other* organ. Especially," he swallowed again, one as long and thick and powerful as the one offered now.
Actually,Manlove thought as he watched the boy go towork, Billy was less skilled then he believed. But in matters of love- and lust - enthusiasm counts far more then training. Not to mention the minor detail of the `floor show'. Watching young Billy as he entered his first woman - indeed his first receptive partner of any kind - had inflamed the actor to the point where little more was needed. Three more hard strokes and Manlove fell back on the pillows as he splashed over the boys fingers.
"That was good Billy," the older man said, pulling the lad closer.
They lay quietly a moment.
Manlove sat on the side of the bed, reaching into the nightstand for a fresh towel and tenderly wiping his companion's fingers. "Thank you, Billy."
Billy shivered a bit, overwhelmed by the sudden need to lean into the strong warm chest so close before him. To feel those crisp black curls that had felt so gentle against his back when they had been close, and which now lured him to lay his cheek in their softness.
Manlove saw the quiver, and smiled. So soon, he thought, so*very* soon. Just a little more and all that sweet freshness would be his. Truly his. His to guide and teach, his to mold, and his to revel in.
He stood, opening the cabinet and securing the decanter of fine Napoleon brandy. Only the finest for his guests, Manlove reminded himself, and to hell with what Roosevelt had to say about demon hooch. Besides, Manlove chuckled a bit as he splashed a bit into two balloon glasses, it wasn't the *alcohol* that lead young people astray as much as...? He flipped open his signer ring, uncovering a concealed chamber, and shook a trace of white powder into one glass. The amber liquid blurred a bit, then cleared. As this would.
Manlove returned to the bed, holding out the altered snifter. "Here, Billy."
Billy took the glass in both hands, uncertain. "What?" He looked up at Manlove.
"Brandy, lad." the actor replied reassuringly. "Sip it slowly." He raised his own glass to his lips in demonstration.
"Gee, Mr. Manlove. " Billy bit his lip as he considered the amber fluid. He did not want to displease his host. Or to disappoint him. Or to look like an ungrateful, unsophisticated, ignorant... whatever he was. Didn't that make you go blind? "I don't drink."
Manlove raised his glass. "You should, lad. It helps."
Billy took a small sip. The taste was... nice. Smooth. Not all bitter and sandpapery, like the hooch some of the reporters `scored' at the riverfront speakeasies. And it did make him feel warm. Nice. Even comfortable.
Billy made a vow. He would *never* doubt Mr. Manlove ever again.
They sat side by side, both sipping their drinks in silence. With each sip Billy felt warmer, and when Eric Manlove raised his arm Billy slipped gladly in to rest against his hard muscled chest. By the last drop, Billy knew he was more comfortable then he had ever been in his life. Relaxed. Reassured. And brave enough to ask what had truly been on his mind since he had awoken from the lust-befuddled haze of the afternoon.
Leaning back just far enough to see his mentor's face, Billy summoned all his courage. "Would you tell me, Mr. Manlove?" Billy blushed deeply.
Manlove smiled his most reassuring smile. The one that had gained the heart of Lotta L'Amoure - not to mentions millions of movie fans - in the desert blockbuster `Hearts of Flame'. "Anything, Billy."
The smile worked as well on Billy as it had on the Academy, and after a moment the lad continued. "Does it...?' he faltered, but when Manlove squeezed his hand he pressed forward. "Does it... feel good?"
Manlove smiled again, careful not to let the wolf show through. After all, they called it acting for a reason. "Does jacking off feel good?" He pitched his voice carefully between indulgent and amused. "Please Billy, you may be innocent - but no one is that innocent. I will *not* believe you never...?" He ended the question on a raised eyebrow.
Billy shivered. "Not that, Mr. Manlove."
Manlove hadn't thought so, but it was always best to take seductions slowly. A point that his `supporting actor' needed a reminder of, as `Sir Eric' was already starting to stir from just the mental image of just how good so *many* things could feel with young Billy. Manlove reminded the organ that, if any of those good things were going to happen any time soon they would *both* have to be careful about scaring the boy off *now*. Which could easily happen. It had in the past. Even experienced bottoms sometimes backed off when confronted with the splendor of that shaft in full erection. For a near virgin like Billy?
"You mean, Did Fifi enjoy it?" Manlove shifted his tone from amused to pleased. "I assure you she did - no matter what you may have heard about good girls." He patted Billy's leg, letting the young man see that such consideration pleased him.
"No. I mean. " Billy blushed again. Dark scarlet, this time. The curse of a pale complexion. "I`m glad to hear that but... I sort of thought she did. Especially that bit you did at the end." Billy dropped his eyes, burrowing harder into Manlove's chest. "I mean - does the other thing feel good?"
"Oral sex? That I know you remember ..." Manlove slid a finger under Billy's chin, gently forcing the lads eyes backup. Eyes were *so* informative. And Billy's eyes were worth watching even when Manlove did not have quite so desperate a need to see what was going on behind them.
"No," Billy squirmed, unable to quite look away. "I mean." He took a deep breath, then rushed out " Mr. Manlove, I may be sort of young, but I'm not a kid. I've been on my own, and I've worked the police beat, and... I know what men do with men. And while I don't know if you know I think you know and... I want to know. If you know."
"I know." Manlove drew Billy closer, stroking the young man's back and running his fingers through the damp red curls. "It's OK to ask, Billy. I want you to feel free to ask me anything." The older man waited until Billy had again relaxed against him before continuing, "Does it feel good to *be* fucked. For a *man* to be fucked? It can." He rubbed Billy's shoulder, waiting until the little shivers subsided before continuing. "I would want it to feel good for you Billy. The first time may sting a little, but with enough care..."
"No." Billy turned suddenly, looking up at the older man. His eyes were serious. Almost dark. "I mean will it feel good for *you*. As good as...well... in the library." Because, the little, scared voice in Billy's head was shouting that there was no *way* that taking that massive organ was going to do anything but hurt. A lot. No wonder Mr. Manlove had never married, when he had been engaged all those times. Even a girl would have a hard time taking that... beast... and while Billy might not know much he knew for damnsure that girls were a lot better built for getting fucked then boys were.
Still, he also knew - or thought - or suspected - or at the very least maybe *hoped* - that that was what Mr. Manlove had been taking about back in his study before he... back before the ray... Billy ended the thought with just back before. And if he had wanted it before? Billy didn't *think* the gentleman had been with anyone else between. So just maybe... possibly... if Billy was very lucky.. then....perhaps...
Got him!! Manlove's ego howled. Watch it? his conscience whimpered. Both were quickly stifled. Eric Manlove would deal with them both later. For now? Billy Bung was waiting, fearful but almost eager, for his answer.
"Yes, Billy," Manlove whispered, pulling the lad back into his embrace. "It would feel at least that good. Better, because you are hot, and strong, and beautiful, and very sweet. But I'm not going to ask..."
"Then I will!" Billy interrupted. "Ask, I mean. Because if it makes you happy, I want to do it." Wanted to do *anything*, anything at all, which would make Mr. Manlove happy. Make him maybe even *like* Billy a little. Make him maybe give Billy a chance to stay around long enough to maybe even someday like Billy a lot. Maybe even as much as Billy knew he already... liked... Mr. Manlove.
Yes! Manlove's ego screamed. His conscience rolled over silently, recognizing a hopeless cause when it saw it.
"Billy? Why?" Manlove purred.
"Because you're the nicest man in the world. Is that reason enough?"
Ahhhh. Even the actors ego was reduced to wordless pleasure.
"Oh, Billy."
Billy raised Manlove's hand to his cheek. "Because you were nicer to me than anyone has ever been in my entire life, and you've given me so much, and I just want to believe for just a minute that I could give you something... even if I'm not really ... much of anyone..."
Manlove bent down to kiss the fire red curls. "You're more then you know, Billy. So very much more."
Billy turn his face up, green eyes bright with unshed tears, offering his lips and - the actor knew - his heart. "Then you'll do it?"
"Yes, Billy," Manlove answered, "I'll be honored."
Distracting Billy with a kiss, Manlove quickly slid his hand into the nightstand drawer. The small tube of very special lubricant went under the pillow, safely away from already-anxious eyes. Soon enough for details later, Manlove thought. For this first time, they were better running on trust.
A gently pull brought Billy beside him on the mattress, snuggled close enough so he could feel - but not yet see - the effects of his surrender. A few skilled strokes had him snugly - and - save for one conspicuous organ - soft. Gently kisses on his forehead and shoulders to quicken his breathing. Although not yet on the lips, Manlove decided, for that might frighten the lad by contrast with whatever memories of girls he might still possess. But on his ears, with little nips on the lobes that brought out gasps. On the curve of neck and shoulder, where a bite could send shudders down to those long, narrow toes. And yes definitely, on those strawberry- fresh nipples those rose so eagerly at the faintest touch until Billy was shut-eyed and shivering, lost in the gift of pleasure.
Yes, Manlove congratulated himself as he revelled in the effects of his seduction on the hot young body beside him. His Billy was definitely going to be worth the investment of patient training.
Manlove stroked his hand over the freckled shoulders, down the milk-pale back, and finally over the tight white cheeks that relaxed so trustingly under his caress. Yes, he decided, the lad was definitely ready to go on.
He pulled down some pillows.
"Up a bit, Billy luv." He stroked the lads stomach, feeling the lads organ full again against his hand as he slid first one pillow, then another, under the quivering belly. A good sign,that. At least part of the lad sincerely liked the thought of what was coming. Manlove congratulated himself on his perception.
The young man shivered a bit, but obeyed, allowing Manlove to position him to a half-kneel with his ass well up and his legs spread wide. Not Manlove's favorite position, but easier for a first time. He could teach the lad gymnastics later.
Manlove waited, stroking the lads cheeks and dropping kisses into the curve of his spine until Billy was again in his haze of brandy and bliss. He slid out the tube of cream, anointing one finger and starting it gently down the tight crevice of Billy rear cheeks.
Billy made no protest, only whimpering a bit when the exploring finger finally reached the puckered circle that was its true goal.
"Easy, luv." Manlove kept his voice low and soothing. "I've got to relax you a bit. Get you ready. I don't want to hurt you."
"No, Mr. Manlove." Billy wiggled, trying to thrust back his hips but getting no leverage from the yielding pillows. "It feels good. And... I wouldn't care if it hurt. I want you."
Idiot, Billy rebuked himself. Sniffiling like a baby. Mr. Manlove would probably get disgusted at having to deal with a whiner. From now on, he swore, not another bad sound. No matter what. He was going to take it like a man.
"That's a lad." Manlove added more cream as he brushed the digit more firmly over the tiny entrance. "And I want you too." While speaking, he eased the first knuckle in, earning a quick gasp from Billy."There's yer first bit of me. How does it feel."
"Big." Billy answered, catching his breath. "Big, but... good."
"Big and good." Manlove purred. "That's how you want it to be. How it will be, I promise." He wiggled the finger, bringing in more lube and another knuckle.
"Uhh." Billy gasped. "Good."
"This first time," Manlove continued, "I'm going to take my time, open you slowly." He eased in the rest of his finger. "Then I will do this." Manlove began pumping the single finger slowly in and out of the tight passage, cherishing the spasms as the virgin muscles gave beneath his movements. Even with the special muscle relaxant his scientific friend had given him for `special cases', the boy was still delightfully tight. How fortunate, he thought, that he had not mistakenly rolled the boy earlier, in the study, when he had mistaken him for one of the working lads. An ass like this should be a feast, not just a light tea.
"Do you like that, Billy?"
"Ohhh." Billy moaned, unable to hold back as the thick heat lit a fire that seemed to reach half-way to his chest. "Is that..?"
"That's what it feels like to be fucked, Billy." Manlove answered, keeping up the motion. "I'm fucking you with my finger."
"Ahhh!" Billy cried as Manlove sent the fingertip carefully not-quite-over the sensitive nerves of the prostate.
"You like it, don't you? You like how that feels?" Manlove eased back. No use giving away the whole show, after all. But even a near-miss was enough to send Billy into shivering pleasure, and that pleasure was enough to give Manlove the chance to slip in a second finger. "You'd feel it even more if I *really* fucked you. If I used my cock."
"Oh," Billy's breath caught as the second finger pressed painfully between this guardian muscles, stretching him wider then he had ever been before. "Mister..."
"I know, Billy." Manlove soothed, dropping kisses on the lads shoulder until the sudden clamp of muscles eased a bit. "I know it stings a bit. But if you want ..."
"Please," Billy panted. "Don't leave, please."
"If you want this - want me,"Manlove stroked a bit nearer the lads prostrate, sending a newer, sharper wave of fire through his nerves. "You need to be brave."
"I... I will, Mr. Manlove."
Manlove licked Billy's cheek, catching the taste of the few salt tears forced from the lad's eyes. "That's my chap." He pulled the boy closer. "Just give it a moment. It won't hurt long, I promise."
It burned, Billy thought. Burned like a fire-poker had been up there, and not just fingers. But it had also been... wonderful. In those few moments when Mr. Manlove had touched... something... it had been wonderful. Enough that Billy would be burned alive it meant a chance to feel that again. "I don't care if it hurts, Mr. Manlove," he insisted. And meant it. "Really. I just want..."
"I know Billy." Manlove rubbed his shoulders. I know what you want. And I will give it to you, I promise." He slowed his motion. "Soon. As soon as you can take three fingers, you'll be ready." Manlove scissored his fingers gently, expertly teasing the muscle into relaxation.
"Please, sir." Billy thrust up against the sensation. "I can..."
"Very well, Billy." Manlove pulled back his hand. "Here's finger number three."
Manlove smiled as Billy's hands dug suddenly into the mattress. Three fingers had to be a shock, if not an actual pain, yet the lad was clearly determined to stay silent rather then risk losing the chance to service his hero. A good sign. A very good sign. Which made it all the more important to do this well.
He waited, continuing his kisses, until Billy's' fingers were once again flat against the sheet and his rear muscles open around the three thick fingers. It took some time, but not as long then Manlove had expected. He gave a passing thought to the joys of fisting the lad. Hearing those delightful gasps as he set more and more fullness between those perfectly formed cheeks. Watching the lads eyes as he felt Manlove claim every inch that was humanly possible. Seeing him cum again and again at Manlove's command.
Not tonight, of course, Manlove reminded himself. It was much to early in Billy's' experience. One easy fuck would likely leave the lad out of commission until the weekend. But no matter. Step by step was the way to go, and Billy Bung was going to be around for a good long time to come. And to cum.
Ohhh" Billy sighed, finally relaxed enough to actually feel the new fullness inside his passage. "Mr. Manlove. That is..."
"Good, Billy?" Manlove grinned as he sent a fingertip lightly over the lads pleasure bump.
"Ahhh!" Billy twisted, shaking under the fresh sensation.
"You like that?" Manlove teased.
"Yaaa... yes.."Billy thrust back on the three fingers, trying to reclaim them. Ignoring the pain in the overwhelming need. Anything to regain that pleasure.
"Then you're ready for me to fuck you." Manlove pulled back just a bit, enjoying the shivers that passed down Billy's back at the movement. " Do you want that? Do you want me to fuck you? Really fuck you?"
"Yaaa... yes.." Billy stammered, as the part of his brain that could still think howled at him to do anything, absolutely *anything*, to get Eric Manlove back against his body. "Please, Mr. Manlove." He shivered as he felt the fingers withdraw, leaving him abandoned. "Please..."
"Very well, lad." Manlove swiftly positioned himself between Billy's outstretched legs, parting the white globes, setting his cock-head against the tight pink ring even as he drew his fingers out. "Take a deep breath, then let it out."
Billy obeyed, and as he did so Manlove pressed the flared head swiftly past the shrinking circle.
"Uhhh." Billy's fingers again dug into the mattress.
"Relax, lad. I'm in you now." Manlove stroked Billy's back until the pressure eased a bit on his swollen shaft. "The rough parts over. Now you just have to take it bit by bit." Then he pressed deeper.
"Ahhh." Billy cried as the thick male meat slowly pressed up past the length where the fingers had been. Three fingers had been huge, but this... this was impossible.
Heaven, Manlove thought. This was bloody heaven. Even for a virgin the lad was tight. Hot and tight and truly tasty. It was taking every bit of self-control learned from a long and vicious career not to just give in to the urge to pound the boy bloody. But - the little voice spoke up - if he did that it would just be all the longer before he could bugger the lad again. And again. So - in the interests of deferred pleasure...
Manlove pulled up gently, giving Billy a chance to breathe before pressing back still deeper into the fresh tunnel. Then back again, and again forward, gaining each time until, after four strokes, Manlove was finally buried balls-deep in the lads ass.
"That's it, Billy luv." He whispered to the shivering lad below him. "You've taken it all in, and I'm proud of you." He reached down, wrapping his hand around Billy's cock. It was softer now, having lost some of it's interest under the pain of penetration, but not all gone. And Manlove knew he could tease the pleasure back swiftly enough.
He kept his cock still inside Billy, letting the lad come to accept the sensation, while he gave the lads own cock a quick rub.
"Ohhh. Sir." Billy shook as the pleasure mixed somehow with the fullness behind him to overwhelm every nerve.
"Like that, do you me lad?" Manlove tried a short thrust, which in turn sent Billy's shaft bucking into Manlove's circling fist.
"Yes." Billy gasped. "Ohhh. Sir."
"Good lad." Manlove gave him another poke, then settled into an easy rhythm that pleased his own cock and had Billy shivering and and gasping below him.
In just a few strokes, Billy cried `Ahhh!" and came.
Far too soon, In Manlove's opinion. The would have to do something about that. It was always better if the bottom waited until their fucking was almost over before indulging themselves. Although, he considered, for a lad taking his first cock? A bit of hastiness could be gently forgiven. Especially since it was a rather good sign for the future. After all, some sorry chaps couldn't quite come to like bending over at all. Made life rather rough all around.
Feeling pleased with Billy, Manlove decided he could be gentle with the lad. He was close enough himself that he finished up easily, driving the last stroke deep and shooting his thick load high into the the boys channel.
"Uhhh." Billy gasped a bit as Manlove pulled the cock out. Even emptied, it was still larger then Billy could yet take comfortably, and the tight muscles protested again as the head spread them on the way out.
"Hurts, lad?" Manlove murmured. "Truth now."
Billy bit his lip. He didn't want to be a whiner, but..."A...a little."
Manlove bent down to check. More then a little, he suspected. But Billy had taken it bravely, and his willingness had paid off. The rapidly shrinking circle was red and swollen looking, but only a little torn. Almost bloodless. The boy would be seriously sore come morning, but in a few days he would be ready - and willing - to go again. And in the mean time, Manlove told himself, there were so many other useful skills to teach the lad.
And teach him he would, Manlove decided. Teach him step by step until every inch of that fresh young flesh was dedicated purely to pleasure. Eric Manlove's pleasure. Which, he suspected, would be very much Billy Bung's pleasure as well. The boy was a natural bottom. Also, if Manlove was any judge - and he was, if experience could make a judge - also a natural submissive. Clearly in need of strong male guidance. The sort of guidance Manlove would be more then happy to give his lad.
Although if he was going to keep the boy - he thought in passing - that last name would really have to go. For a companion, Sir Eric Manlove would require something slightly... classier. Perhaps European. William would do, since the lad was used to it, but Bung? Not half. Still, the actor decided, giving his pet a new name could wait until morning. For now?
He pulled the boy over. "You're mine now, Billy." Manlove told him. "And I'm going to keep you."
Billy looked up, eyes gleaming. "Really, Mr. Manlove?" Billy snuggled into the the warm fur of his mentors chest. "Does that mean you're mine too?"
Manlove smiled. "You know, Billy? I rather think it does."
Chapter 12: Men in Danger
The heavy door of Manlove Manor swung open.
"Dr. Long. Agent Shafter." The young man greeted the two visitors. "Welcome."
Billy straightened, proud to represent his hero. And - if he said so himself - he did it well. Early this morning one of Mr. Manlove had made a call to the studio, and not thirty minutes later a very skinny lady with very severe hair had come up to the house, and five minutes after that Billy had been `dressed' for the first time since he had been - well, Billy wasn't certain of exactly *how* young he had been, but it had been a good long time.
He had been sort of embarrassed at first. Especially when the lady had told him to strip down to his underwear. Especially because he...well... he didn't have a lot of money, and so when he did have a dollar or two to buy clothing he didn't usually spend it on stuff folks didn't see. Not to mention sometimes he tried to save a penny or two by doing his own washing in the pressroom sink. So his `whites' weren't exactly really white. And they might have had a few holes here and there. Mostly *there*.
The lady hadn't said anything but she had *sniffed*. And then she had handed him a new package of Fruit of the Looms and made him go change before she would let him try anything on. Which pretty much said it all without saying anything at all.
Being sniffed at was sort of bad, but that wasn't the real problem. The real worry was that - Billy admitted - he didn't want his hero to think he was like those other sorts who only wanted to pretend to like important people because they wanted something from them. Because he wasn't. Not at all. But Sir Eric... Billy smiled at that, proud when he realized he had used the proper name. Mr. Manlove - correction, Sir Eric - had told him that he could call him that. Or just by his last name alone, because they were really friends. That either would be really proper. Billy liked the last, but it was.. well, he was just a bit too shy to use it yet.
Just like he had been shy when the lady looked him over that way. Billy never even went to the type of shop where the clerks looked at your *jacket*, much less your whole... everything. It was sort of... strange feeling. But? *Sir* Eric had told him that personal dressers were just part of the Hollywood way, and that it would make him happy to see `his lad' in the new togs.
Billy was glad to do anything that would make his hero happy. Even maybe things he didn't want to do - although off hand just he couldn't think of what that might be. But something he *wouldn't* want certainly did not include getting these new duds.
They were - as Sir Eric had said - smashing togs. The crisp wool of his new suit was soft and warm, not scratchy like the ones he sometimes bought second hand off the Armenian tailors down on Maple Street, with sleeves that covered the cuffs of his new linen shirt and pockets that stayed smooth even if he put something in them. It even came with a vest. A real back-buckled vest, made to match, not one of the cheap knit type that Billy had worn in the winter or to hide how ragged his shirts were.
Billy ran his fingers slightly over his new tie. Actual real silk, and once worn by Sir Eric Manlove himself. And the man had given it to Billy just this morning, when none of the ties the studio lady had brought had given `quite the right effect'. Billy stole a glance at the mirror. Whatever effect the lady had wanted, Billy decided that this was a good one. He looked - not older, exactly, but *smarter*. Classier. More like someone who deserved to be at the side of a Hollywood legend.
He stood back while Sir Eric greeted the two men, the went up just to the right of the older man's chair, exactly as Sir Eric had instructed. That earned him a smile from his hero that warmed him clear to his toes. Really, Billy thought, why did people say such harsh things about the movie star? Mr. Manlove - Sir Eric, he corrected quickly - was so easy to please, as long as you just remembered what he told you and did exactly what he said. And when you *did* please him he was so nice in return that Billy was totally shocked that anyone ever would want to do anything
else.
"Mr. Manlove?" Ash Shafter addressed the older man even as he took the younger by the arm. "I need to speak to Billy."
"You should call him Sir Eric, you know." Billy whispered to the agent. "He was knighted. By the King of England!"
Ash Shafter grinned. "Sir Eric, eh?"
"Mr. Manlove is fine." The actor waved off the question. He gave Billy a wry smile before adding - "For Americans."
Shafter turned his attention to the ex-reporter. "And should I assume you want to be called Mr. Bung?"
"Well, uh." Billy looked over to his mentor, who simply smiled. Which meant Billy knew what he was supposed to do, and the older man simply expected him to do it. Billy swallowed. "That's sort of ..." he hesitated, then plunged ahead. "Sir Eric says I should have a more ... sophisticated name. If I want to make it in the writing business, he says it's better to sound slightly foreign." Billy shifted slightly, uncomfortable but determined. This was a test, of sorts, and he would have to pass it if he was to keep his mentors respect. " William is still good. That's my name. William Able. So we thought... William von und du Shagheim." At the FBI agents bemused expression, he added, " Because there are so many displaced Prussian nobles come here to get away from the troubles, and he figured... who'd notice one more?"
"Will Shagheim, eh?" Long rubbed his chin as he gave the lad a careful inspection. "It suits you."
"Gee, thanks..." Billy caught himself, No more `guttersnipe' speech. "I mean, thank you, Dr. Long."
"Perhaps, William." Eric Manlove said, rising from his chair, "You should stay here and have a word with Agent Shafter." He gave the lad a `significant' look. "In the mean time Dr. Long and I will retire to the study. I want to consult with the doctor on a ... private matter."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Richard Long crossed directly to the bar and poured himself a drink. "How are you doing - with ...Willy?" he asked over his shoulder. "Should I convince Shafter to let the boy go?"
"Not at all." Manlove held out his hand, indicating the good doctor should pour a second brandy for his host. "I'm planning to keep him - and *keep* him."
"He did look rather... cleaned up." Long filled a second snifter and carried it over to the Turkish divan where Manlove had come to rest. "Get them young, train them right?"
"I've heard it suggested."Manlove took a deep sip, savoring the warm taste on his tongue. Why ever did the foolish Americans vote to outlaw this? But then, he considered, they deprived themselves of so many of life's pleasures. Including... Manlove raised his glass in to Long. "Did you know - the lad was a *virgin*? Totally."
Long returned the toast. "In the past tense, I do gather.?
"Likewise totally." Manlove stretched back on the soft velvet cushions. " I let him have Fifi last night."
"Women?" Long made a rather theatrical gesture of mock-shock. "Don't you know that they can corrupt a young man? Next thing you know you'll have him singing."
"That I did this morning." Manlove swirled the amber fluid, enjoying the sparkles as the light reflected off the fine blown glass. "High and clear. And loud. Very loud. You should have heard him over in Silver Lake."
Long set down his glass, suddenly serious. "If he needs a doctor..."
"No." Manlove reassured his guest. "I was careful."
"With your huge cock?" The doctor part of Long was seriously concerned. Billy was rather small for his age, and if the boy had been a complete virgin? A judgment on which he trusted Manlove's perception.
Long thought back to his own initiation. He had been about Billy's age, although - thank God for a fortunate selection of parents - far less ignorant. And he had had literally *years* of play and preparation, rather then fear and hysteria. And his first lover's cock , while hardly lacking, had been a for more reasonable instrument then the monster `Erring Eric' was so proud of. But even so? Long remembered that he had been to sore to play decent tennis for *days*. And Billy had taken that thick ten inches his first time out?
Long frowned.
The actor sat taller, preening just a bit at the implied complement. "I didn't say the lad wont be sore for a few days, but he isn't torn." Manlove reached automatically for his sapphire orb, hand freezing when the empty stand reminded him that the jewel was no longer his. Something would have to be done about that as well. But first he needed to reassure Long, who otherwise might feel the need to `protect' Billy. "I'll let the lad rest for a few days." Manlove promised. "Break him gradually to the saddle, as some of my cowboy co-stars would put it. And while he's `resting' I can teach him to `play the flute'."
Long raided one eyebrow. "You think that's his instrument?"
Manlove finished off his brandy and set the glass on the side table. "There's a wonderful sub somewhere in that boy just aching to come out. Six months from now...?" Six months from now there wouldn't be any question about the boys `position' in Manlove's life. Six months from now the boy would be *in* position - at the actor's side or at his feet - and Manlove would have much warmer balls to fondle at his whim.
Long shrugged. "You certainly should know what you're doing. Just see that he takes it easy."
"Oh, he will." Manlove thrust fingers into palm in the classic gesture. "He will. Eventually." Which finished the actors interest in the subject, so he decided to change it. "Which brings us to - how are you doing on your end?"
"Shafter?" Long grinned, then looked down at his drink. "I haven't let him in on matters, but...he's closer then he knows. I've got him using the `special' ointment, and I introduced him to the probe last night."
Manlove chuckled. He had his own pleasant memories of Dr. Long's `special' lubricant. And of the `therapeutic' device mentioned. Both had swayed the sexual opinions of more then one undecided young `understudy'. But to visualize the straight-arrow Shafter writhing under the combined effects? Without any admission that he was getting snogged? "That must have been a thrill."
"In more sense then one." Long answered, allowing his memory to drift back over the agents fit, hard body. Especially one hard part of that fit body. Remembering how the man had shivered and gasped when the vibrator had reached his prostate. "You should have seen his face when he came all over my hand."
"Let me guess?' Manlove stood, picking up the snifter and walking back to the bar. "Death by embarrassment?"
"Naturally." Long stood aside as his host opened the cabinet and set the used glass on the tray for the servants to collect later. "Or unnaturally, if you want to view it that way." Not that either he or Manlove would, he added mentally. Such limitations were for the lower sorts who had not had the philosophical advantages of Physical Culture. Finishing the last of his own brandy, he handed the glass over to Manlove. "But... he used the probe again this morning. On his own. And he *asked* be to help him with his Bead."
Long smiled at bit at the memory. True, the agent hand blushed, And stammered. But he had also asked. And he had obeyed without hesitation when Long had reminded him to lay down a towel to catch the inevitable cum. So? All things considered?
"He did, did he?" Manlove's tone was... knowing.
"Bent right over and took it without so much as a whimper." Well, Long's smirk added, none but the *expected* whimpers. And gasps. And a few strictly suppressed moans. Which had to be expected, even if Shafter wasn't exactly what Long would call a `screamer'. But Long had not taken any of those as an `objection'."Pretty good for a straight guy on his second day, wouldn't you say?"
Manlove headed for the door. "So you think he's ready?"
"I *know* he's ready." Long answered, following. "Now all I need it the right opportunity."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Long and Manlove joined up with Ash Shafer back in the main hall, where he had just finished his `talk' with young Billy. Nothing too rough, Long assumed. Billy *had* been entirely cooperative, and he *did* have a powerful protector now. Even so, the lad was looking a bit pale. Paler then usual. Long assumed that Shafter had reinforced the now-former cub reporters instructions *not* to associate with any of his old press buddies - on pain of pain.
That was generally a good idea, of course. The last thing this case needed was to leak to the local newspaper crews, any one of whom would quickly stir the population into a panic if it would increase their circulation. The crowd at the museum had been problem enough. If they had any hint that other `attacks' could take place? Not that any had been reported - yet. Fortunately.
Well, Long thought, no problem with that now. Manlove would keep an eye on what Billy did with his mouth - and giving interviews was *not* going to be included.
"Ready to go?" the FBI agent asked Long, holding out the man's hat.
"If you're finished grilling B... young Master Shagheim here." Long gestured to the young man who was sitting rather uncomfortably in one of the hard parlor chairs. "I've asked Mr. Manlove to accompany us - as an expert on the Blue Balls."
"That's good of you, sir." Shafter nodded politely at the older man. Normally he was all against involving civilians in an Agency case - but this was not just any case. And Eric Manlove was not just any civilian. Not even just any rich, powerful civilian. After all, the FBI had to deal with politicians and bankers all the time, and any Agency man who couldn't come out on top didn't stay an Agency man for long.
No, Shafter's respect came from another source. Eric Manlove, in his judgment, was a man of talent. A man of accomplishment. A man of daring. The type of man who could *do* things. If any man in America knew the tricks to getting their hands on an exotic set of balls, this was that man.
He gave young... William... a cautious look. Not that the cub reporter had given him any lip, either today or yesterday, but as he was still press? "I suppose the kid can stay here with the staff," Shafter said carefully. "Since he sure doesn't sound like he's planning to run off."
Manlove signaled to Billy, who quickly opened the closet and took out the actors coat."William will ... come with me." He turned, allowing the young man to slide the tailored tweed carefully into place. "The scientists might might want to interview him - as one of the survivors."
"OK," the FBI man conceded. "But we's better get going. It's a long drive to the desert."
"Bumpy road?" Manlove looked at Long, who nodded, then at Billy. "We'll take my car," he said. "Better springs."
Chapter 13: Lust in the Dust
Meanwhile. Just north of the barren desert town of Mojave, a familiar black-and-white police car approaches a sentry post. As the Los Angeles policeman steps out to identify himself to the guards, little does he know that they are are the focus of far less well-meaning eyes.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~••
"That it, boss?" the gangster watching the road asked, shifting back his fedora to wipe away the sweat that threatened to run into his eyes and blur the lenses of his binoculars. "That the car?"
"You see any other car?" The criminal boss snarled, shifting to say in the scant shade of their Packard. Even at ten in the morning, the desert sand was blistering. Not to mention rough on his suit. The harsh alkali dust got everywhere, and when it mixed with the sweat drawn out by the unmerciful sun, it stung. To make matters worse, they had been watching the road leading to the Navel Base since sunrise and they hadn't seen any car but this.
Although why the Navy wanted to build a place out here? Weren't sailors supposed to be about boats and that jive? Sure didn't look to be any water in this China Lake place. He felt almost sorry for the sentry down in the little house. Kid had to be frying.
Crappy job all around. But the senior gangster hadn't gotten to by a boss by liping off to his own boss. The big bosses knew what they, and if you knew what was good for you you gave it to them. And that went double for that Erros guy.
"Think he's got it?" The man with the binoculars spoke up again.
"I don't think at all." the taller gangster answered, shaking out his suit coat before dropping back into the car. "That's for the big boss. I just do what I'm told - and collect my pay." He started up the motor, clad to hear it catch on the first crank. The desert was no place to be stranded without a car. They had left the driver behind, so for this mission he would take the wheel.
The boss thug paused a bit, then gestured for the other man to get into the car. "Now we just wait for the signal."
"Then we go in?" the shorter man asked.
The man at the wheel grinned. "We go in - as soon as everybody else does."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~••
The sentry - a skinny looking kid with sun-bleached hair - smiled a bit as the driver of the black-and-white shifted to neutral. It had been a dull day in a posting full of dull days, and while a cop car wasn't much, it would still be someone to talk to.
"This China Lake?" the driver asked, sticking his head out the window. "I'm O'Doul, with a delivery."
The sentry checked his list. Yep. The delivery was expected. "O'Doul, eh?" the young sailor stepped from his booth, raising his clipboard to shade his eyes as he looked over the LAPD officer. "You're sure a long way from the city."
"And don't I feel it!" O'Doul swung open the door and stepped out, stretching to pull the kinks out of his lower back. Cop cars did not have the best suspension. "Guy named Putoutzki wanted this file sent up to a Dr. Wang."
"So they send a cop?" The blond sailor held out the clipboard for O'Doul to sign, then slid it back onto it's hook in the sentry booth. "Must be important."
"Light duty" O'Doul answered."I got sort of... banged up.. yesterday. I slipped when... changing a tire. Then I ... slipped again at this church supper."
"Boy," the sailor shook his head. "You are like one hard luck Charlie."
Damn truth, O'Doul thought. How the hell could any guy expect to be hit by a top-secret sex-ray twice in the same day. Hell, twice in a life time.And especially when he was taking his mom to a church supper? He didn't know how he was going to face Reverend Wanker next Sunday without embarrassing himself.
Thank God the ray had worn off before anyone had been hurt. And before the grill had run dry. If they had had to call the fire department - or worse yet an ambulance - O'Doul didn't know what he would have done. As it was? Well, there hadn't been *that* many people there, and those who were had agreed to keep it to themselves. Thank God.
That was O'Doul phrase for the whole thing. Thank God it hadn't been worse.
Thank God no one in the LAPD was ever going to know about either incident. So O'Doul could put what had happened behind him... behind him.
Thank God he hadn't looked over. Well, not more then once. He could still mostly pretend he hadn't seen his Mom with... O'Doul stopped that thought. He *hadn't* seen his Mom doing anything, and that was that!
Thank God also he didn't know who the kelbasa guy was. It was bad enough to have grease burns on his backside without having to deal socially with the fellow that put them there. As it was, he didn't think he'd ever again be able to order a Polish Dog without blushing.
And thank God this sailor boy was too young and dumb to have any idea that O'Doul sore backside was from anything other then a trip while changing a tire.
He opened the door and stepped back so the sentry could inspect the cargo. Military regulations to keep saboteurs from sneaking onto a classified area. "Well, my lucks bound to change." He smiled at the Seaman Smith. "As long as the canteen here can serve up some decent coffee."
"Coffee's good," the young sailor said, bending down to check under the bench seat. O'Doul tried hard *not* to notice how clearly he could see the curves of the young man's ass in his white Navy trousers. Because he was *not* interested in such things. Not any at all.
"And the cherry pies pretty nifty too." the sailor continued, stretching over to see under the passengers seat. "If you go for cherry."
Which he did not!, O'Doul remended himself. At least not in boys. Men. Whatever. Because he did *not* go that way. No matter if the memory of Sargent Millers`s cock spu.... Whatever. So O'Doul did *not* watch the way his loose white `blouse' rode up, giving any man watching a glimpse of a slim, tanned back. Because, of course, O'Doul did not at all look for such things.
"But you better watch out," the sentry called over his shoulder. "You know what they say about bad luck coming in threes."
O'Doul shook his head. "Those two were as enough for me. I don't see how Lady Luck can f..."
A pink light flashed over the tan desert landscape.
"Fuck ..." O'Doul muttered as he felt the now- familiar fever surge though his body. Felt his balls tighten as his shaft filled and rose. Pushing down his zipper, he watched with fascination and a touch of dread as hid prick rose, hard and purpled, through the comfort opening.
"Yes, Fuck..." The young sailor moaned, rubbing against the fabric of the back seat.
Fuck indeed. O'Doul sighed. There was no sense resisting the power of the ray. His only hope was...? Looking at the horney young sailor laid so temptingly before him, that answer was obvious. O'Doul reached over and jerked down the fellows pants. The fly buttons gave with a pop. "Oh yes. We're fucked all right." He said. "And this time you're the one getting fucked first!"
The ray-maddened young man moaned as his sensitive skin, now free of any confinement, scraped against the rough weave of the upholstery. "I want." He gasped, grabbing his swelling shaft. "I want."
O'Doul grabbed the half-naked young man by the hips. "I know what you want - and your gonna get it." He forced the man's knees forward, pushing his ass further into the air. "Into the car. Now."
As the sailor scrambled to obey, O'Doul pulled the tube of hemorrhoid cream from his own pocket, and swiftly squeezed it into the narrow back channel quivering before him.
"Ohh." The lust-crazed sailor thrust back against the policeman's probing finger. "Need!"
O'Doul gave the circle a quick rub to loosen it. The muscles yielded readily and in only a few seconds he brought his cock-head against the small circle. "I know what you need - and I'm gonna give it to you."
"Uhhh"! The sentry jerked forward under the unexpected pang, only to be forced back by O'Doul's unyielding grip.
"Big." The sailor wiggled frantically, spreading his legs wider in order to ease the pressure in his back passage. A hopeless effort, for whatever space he gained was immediately occupied by O'Doul's advancing shaft. "So... big."
"Thanks, buddy" O'Doul thrust again, driving in another few inches. It felt wonderful. Hot and tight. He didn't half blame Sargent Miller for fucking him if it felt this good on top, Not that bottom was so bad either, but this? He gave the man another shove. This was incredible. The wonder was that folks didn't do this all the time.
The sailor clutched at the seat, fingers scrambling to gain any leverage. "Hot!"
"Hell, this ain't hot." O'Doul grinned and he pulled back, then shoved his man-meat balls-deep into the quivering ass below him. "Just be glad I didn't grill it first."
Reaching underneath, he took a firm grip on the other man's cock. That, O'Doul smiled, would teach the kid to keep his ass steady while someone was fucking it. And fuck it he would. O'Doul gave one more hard plunge, then settled into a steady rhythm that soon had both men gasping.
"Ahhhh! That's so big. You're gonna split me open!" The desperate young man shuddered helplessly as his ass was plundered. "Please." he gasped. "Please!"
"I'll please you all right!" O'Doul stroked the sentry's shaft, rubbing the base in counterpoint to his own strokes.
The sentry's words dissolved into a babble of moans and whimpers as the hard cop fucked him into mindlessness. Screwed him and stroked him until he lost track of which shivers were from his cock and which were from the cock inside him. Rode him until they both come in a shuddering fury that sprayed semen even onto the windows of the car.
Afterwards, they lay together, lust half- assuaged and gasping for breath in the hot desert air.
"This your first butt fucking?" O'Doul asked, suddenly curious.
"Hell no!" the sentry replied, rubbing his ass against the policeman's leg for emphasis. "I'm in the Navy, not the damn dogface Marines!"
O'Doul laughed and, feeling his cock stir, reached for the young man's ass. "Then shut up and soldier, soldier."
Chapter 14: Desert Heat
Shafter watched the city dwindle as Manlove steered the massive black Rolls Royce past the city and out onto the Camino Real. This was his first time in a Rolls, and he was astonished by how smooth the ride was. Not that Long's Caddy wasn't first rate, but this baby? He hardly knew the road was there. heck - he hardly knew the Pearl was there - which was more to the point. He knew he needed the protection, and Long had assured him that he would become more accustomed to the implement over time, but even so he had rather dreaded todays long trip. Putting the Pearl in this morning had not been easy even with Longs help and the curative effects of the stimulator.
Only Billy seemed unable to sit still, twisting constantly in his seat. No doubt the boy was nervous about being in such elevated company. Manlove was famous and Long was... awfully darn smart, to say the least. No to mention rich, and sophisticated, and movie-star handsome. Not that the last should matter except that it just went to show what a really nice guy Long was to *not* be all stuck up and distant.
Of course, Manlove had proved to be a real trooper too. Taking the kid in and helping him out the way the actor had. Shafter shook his head. Why ever did folks think Manlove was some sort of bastard? Some sort of user? Probably just envious, Shafter decided. Or just gossips. There was a lot of that in every city. But it was all a lot of bull. A lot of folks like that wouldn't be half as generous. But Manlove was giving the boy a chance to really make something of himself. Shafter smiled as he looked at the red headed young man who was once again shifting the pants of his new suit. Billy - or William, as he would now be - had decided to grab what Manlove was offering with both hands.
Smart kid, that. A chance like his didn't come along on every street corner. No wonder Billy was a bit uncomfortable. He'd been given a lot to take in. Still, it wouldn't hurt to give the kid a bit of encouragement.
"So William." Shafter leaned forward in his seat, catching Billy's eyes in the rear view mirror. "You will be staying at the Manor from now on? That would be quite a change from the fourth estate."
Billy twisted around in his seat. "Uh... I..."
Manlove comforted him with a pat on the thigh. "William has decided to apply his energies to the... finer arts."
"Gonna write for the movies now?" The FBI man asked cheerfully. "I hear that's good work."
"Yes, sir." Billy bounced a bit, clearly unable to sit still due to the excitement of the recent events. "Sir Eric says a young man can go far if he will just open himself to new experiences."
"As if true of all of us." Manlove shifted down as a truck full of oranges swung out into the roadway. "Wouldn't you agree, Agent Shafter."
"Absolutely!" Shafter focused back on the young man. "Don't believe all that Depression Dan talk. This countries still full of opportunity for a guy who has some spunk in him. You just have to be wiling to put your backside in gear and go for what you want."
Billy got up onto his knees, leaning on the seat back so he could face the FBI man in the back of the car. "Gee, Agent Shafter? Is that what you did?"
"Pretty much, William. I don't want to brag, but?" He caught Manlove's smile, and pressed on. Clearly the lads mentor understood the moral of this story - and approved. "A lot of the guys in my unit - they were just willing to slide by doing KP, But I made sure the Sarge knew I was willing to do what it took to get into the Military Police. Then, after my tour? Well, the Agency likes college guys. I had to hustle to get J. Edgar to show me an opening."
"J. Edgar Hoover?" Billy sounded impressed.
"He's the man," Long confirmed."If you want to work for the FBI, you better make him happy."
"Gee." Billy shifted again, clearly excited. "What then, Mr. Shafter?"
"Then?" Shafter hesitated a moment for a bit of dramatic effect. "Well, the Quantico instructors are real hard asses. If you want to pass there you really have to put out. And then you have to prove you can work the streets."
"But you did it?"
Long leaned forward. "Enough that they are putting Agent Shafter in charge of this investigation." He smiled at the FBI man beside him as he added, "And I cant think of a man I would be happier serving under."
"Thanks, Doc." Shafter grinned. "But I know you're the top man here."
"Some times one man is on top. Sometimes another." Long shrugged. "What does it matter, as it all works out in the end?"
"I rather think who's on top tends to depend upon what one is doing." Manlove smiled at Long over his shoulder as he swung out to pass the truck. "So to speak."
"Oh, sir!" Billy spun back to his mentor. "You'll always be tops with me."
"So kind of you to say so - lad." Manlove stomped the accelerator, sending a pulse of power through the vehicle. "One never knows what the future will bring. I'm not one to hold a chap down if he has a chance to get a leg up."
Shafter caught Manlove's eyes in the rear-view mirror. "Whatever may come, it was nice of your to take him in."
Manlove swing back into his lane. "I haven't done that quite yet - but I will."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
But let us leave our happy travelers for a while. We shall reclaim then perhaps an hour later, when they reach the terminus of their voyage. When they reach the top secret China Lake Naval Weapons Testing Station.
To the the passing eye, the base gave no outward sigh of the turmoil within. From the highway the low concrete buildings squatted unchanged beneath the bleaching desert sun. A traveler on the rutted dirt road would find nothing strange in the array tall gray fences and dust-tan roofs.
The shiny sable Rolls Royce carrying Richard Long and his companions passed without challenge onto the pebbled driveway leading to the base as they had traveled unhindered on the road from Los Angeles. It was only as they drew close to the base that the true trouble became apparent.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Ash Shafter clasped his hand to Eric Manlove's shoulder. "They've been hit!" He pointed to the black-and-while that stood stopped in the driveway before them, it's rear door open and two bare legs wearing black lace-up shoes showing beneath the dark metal. They were moving rapidly back and forth, and the springs of the car were bouncing in harmony. Two other legs - also male and likewise bare - wagged back and forth in the rear window. The acts occurring inside the car, while shadowed, were obvious.
Manlove pulled his Rolls to a stop just behind he police car. Raising one eyebrow, he asked. "This *is* a Navy base. However can you tell?"
Unfortunately, Billy was his only audience for his wit. Both Long and Shafter had already jumped from the car and were headed to the sentry booth.
"Jeez!", Shafter looked over at Long. "Don't tell me that those mugs got a whole *base*!" But what other conclusion could he draw? The Navy might have its reputation, but even an old Army man wouldn't believe they actually allowed their enlisted men to be sodomized in the back of police cars. At least - not while on duty. Which only left....
Shafter grabbed the top man by his shoulders, pulling him out of the car. The man's cock pulled from the panting body below him with a loud pop. "Patrolman O'Doul." Shafter demanded, voice rising in shock as he recognized the man. "Get a grip on yourself!"
O'Doul's hands went automatically to his throbbing cock.
"Not like that!" Shafter growled.
Shafter started to pull the patrolman's hand away, but Long stopped him. "He can't help it." Resting his hand comfortingly on the shaken patrolman's shoulder, Long asked gently. "Ray again?"
O'Doul nodded, keeping his eyes locked on that un-condemning face. He knew he should stop. Knew he should hate what he was doing. Knew he could injure himself if he kept cuming. But it felt so good, and he was so desperately horney. And since they wouldn't let him back to his sailor?
Long turned to Shafter, answering the FBI agents unspoken question. "And this is his second hit - it's going to be worse."
"Not second." O'Doul gasped.
"What?" Shafter shouted, grabbing the young cops chin and forcing his eyes up.
"Uhhhh." O'Doul came with a gasp. "Other times. When we were chasing the car...." He wiped his hand on the remails of his uniform shirt.
Long froze. If the gangsters were already attacking mobile targets, rather then just selected buildings? If - as now seemed clear - they had the power to disrupt an entire base in pursuit of their criminal goals? Then the situation was even worse then he had feared. And if they now has the second of the sapphire balls? The last Orb that would complete the Rod of Ra? Then matters were truly desperate indeed!
Shafter watched Long's face grow pale, and knew the scientist much be thinking much as he was. If the gangsters had gained the last Orb, then their asses were toast. But? He looked at the fresh ruts in the road. Was that Packard before the main building familiar?
The FBI man turned his attention back to O'Doul, disciplining himself to focus only n the man's expression, and to ignore the shaking of his leans muscled body. "When were you hit?" he demanded.
"Ten minutes." the police officer answered, shivering slightly at the memory. "I had just driven up when - the pink flash hit!"
"And then?" Shafter pressed.
"Well." O'Doul's glance went involuntarily to the patrol car, where the young sailor was sill spread in well-fucked disarray. "Then I..."
"Not that." Shafter cut him off. "Did you see...?"
Yeh. With difficulty, O'Doul forced his mind back to business. "The crooks drove right though." He pointed to the tire tracks that curved around the parked police car. "We... couldn't stop them."
Long picked up a pair of crumpled pants, and handed then back to O'Doul. "The museum crooks?"
"I think so." O'Doul hastily tucked himself back into his clothing. "They were the guys Miller and I were chasing when... uh ... when we lost them up in the canyons."
Shafter straightened. "We have to get the gangsters!
"We have to get to the lab!" Long said simultaneously. Pausing a moment, he hurried back to the car. "Manlove, would you mind finding the base commander? That would be Admiral Shaggemal. See what you can do for him?"
"Delighted to lend a hand."Manlove swung the door open, stretching slightly as he took in the tableaux of the rumpled patrolman and the naked sailor. "Rear Admiral, might I assume?"
Billy followed behind Manlove, staring first at the moaning sailor still thrusting himself against the rough upholstery of the police car, then up at his mentor. Not that Shafter held it against the kid. This was likely the first time the young man had ever heard of such perversions as were now taking place almost in front of his eyes. Perhaps it would have been better to leave the kid back at Manlove Manor? Well, Shafter put the question away, too late for that choice. The kid was here, and he was going to get an eyeful. No doubt Manlove could explain matters to him latter. He was a nice, fatherly sort of older man, and he could be trusted to be gentle with the lads innocence. But for now?
"Here, Mr. Manlove." Shafter handed Manlove his gun. "Be careful - the car's still here!" He turned to the now-blushing police man. "O'Doul! You keep an eye on Mr. Manlove."
Long sprinted for the main lab, Shafter following close behind him. Manlove shrugged and, with a nod for Billy to follow, headed for the administration building. As he passed the open car, he reached over and gave the panting young man a firm swat on the ass. "As you were, sailor!"
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Dr. Richard Long flung open the door to the top-secret laboratory to reveal a scene straight out of the Decameron. Provided, naturally, that the Italian classic was being redone in khaki and white. Where once there had been a busy lab full of industrious intellect, there was now a grunting mass of mindless lust as the ray-crazed scientists attempted to believe their passions in the equipment and each other.
"No guards?" Shafter asked, rushing up behind him.
Long answered without words, merely pointing to the two sailors rolling mouth - to - cock in the corner. One of the men looked up, and might have tried to talk, but the moment he did so his hair and forced his mouth back to his work.
Long looked at Shafter."We need to check the safe." Even if they could break the two cunilinguists apart, it would be almost useless to ask the lust-dazed guards what they had seen. Faster, Long decided, to simply get his own answers. Steeping around a moaning lab assistant who was still busily thrusting his cock into a thick length of black rubber tubing, he hurried over to a cabinet built into the far wall. "Damn!"
Shafter scanned the lab. Normally he would had been impressed by the elaborate display of glass and instrumentation. Normally he would have been astounded by the rows of gear-driven mechanical calculators. Normally he would have stared in near-wonder at the tele-radio that was flickering over one wall, casting it's blue-lit shadows over the room. Now that faded into insignificance. Nothing here could be considered normal. Everywhere he looked, he was struck with the image of nude and half-nude men. Men sucking on cocks. Men spread on the lab tables having their cocks sucked. Men rocking on all fours while other men fucked their ass. Men moaning and shouting as they came gain and again inside those asses. No! He told himself. He was an FBI agent. The best of the best. And he was on a case! He would not be distracted, no matter what!
He felt the burn of his protective Pearl, and for once he was grateful for the tenderness. Whatever else, at least he did not have to worry about being driven into mindless lust. Not as long as he had that in place. He felt another surge of gratitude for the scientist who had provided it. Long was a stand-up guy, that was for sure. He didn't know if he could face this with any lesser man, but he trusted that Long could handle anything that came his way.
"What?" Shafter asked, carefully stepping over a pair of white jacketed scientists who were humping in the middle of the aisle and trying desperately *not* to listen to their gasps and moans.
Long simply pointed to the sagging steel door of what was once - clearly - a heavy safe. It had been blown open by some unknown force, it's lock burned through as a hot wire would burn through wax.
Shafter peered into the empty cavity. "So they have the Orb?"
Long's hands curled into fists. "We need to find General Ardor, and see if he still has at least one ball!"
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Chapter 15: Bringing Up the Rear
O'Doul stared nervously down the hall has Manlove - Billy trotting behind - strolled calmly into the Administration building. The sentries that would normally have questioned the unknown visitors were... well.. O'Doul blushed and rapidly averted his eyes. They were there. At least in body. In fact, very *much* in body.
One sentry was on the ground - naked except for his uniform cap - while the other was kneeling beside him simultaneously sucking his companion and sodomizing him with the blue-oiled barrel of his military issue riffle. The effect would not have been ... O'Doul shuddered ... *quite* so disturbing if the.... fuckee... had not been so steadily counting cadence in time to the rifles strokes.
The policeman could only hope the weapon was unloaded. The steel weapon, at least. The other `rifles' were very fully loaded indeed, if the white smears on the men's faces and chests were anything to go by.
"Gee! Mr. Man..." Billy looked at he men with wide eyes. "I mean, Sir Eric..." he didn't quite know what he meant. Or what this meant. He had heard that army life could be rough, but they never showed anything like this in the newsreels.
Manlove patted the boys shoulder. "I'll explain that one later." Much later. Not that he had anything against toys, all for all. But? He'd heard of field stripping a weapon, but that was a bit much. Even for him.
Manlove scanned the posted list, checking for the Admirals office. Not that he wasn't tempted to just stroll around the base. The scenery was so... interesting. But Long would probably be disturbed if the the Admiral was fucked useless by some enlisted hunk before someone sensible could question him. Also - Manlove acknowledged - he really did want his ball back. Sex shows he could get anytime, but fine sapphires? Those were rare.
He considered the points as he quickly scanned the door numbers and headed down the hall. If he could pick up a bit of entertainment on the side, it would rather make up for the long drive. Four hours on the road was *not* his version of a good time. Not now. Not ever. And especially not when he *could* be home reveling in Billy-boy's newfound devotion.
Not that the boy was transient. The more Manlove had of him, the more he became convinced the lad was a `keeper'. But no one stayed a virgin forever. That wide-eyed adoration would eventually fade under the weight of familiarity. That charming shock at each new pleasure would dim as repetition transformed the now-new discoveries into familiar pastimes. Such was life. But for these few fleeting `honeymoon' days?
He was frankly getting a thrill from introducing the lad to the finer things in life. Not just sex - although that was certainly first and foremost on the plan of instruction - but art and fashion and culture. Fine foods and better wines. All the things that would go into making `William' into the pet that could please him day *and* night for years to come.
Ah. here it was. Manlove peered around the door frame - checking the room before he stepped in. Not likely that anyone here would be in much shape to be dangerous, but no sense in being foolhardy.
Two men were in the front office, but neither was in any position to offer up a threat. Although what they were offering? He grinned in passing at the pair. One very large black man lay sprawled on his back over the reception desk, while another somehow both rode his cock and kissed him at the same time. Manlove's early `stunt man' days had left him with an appreciation for athletic flexibility, but that man must have been an contortionist before he enlisted.
Quite the nice centerpiece. Perhaps, he considered, he could arrange something similar for his next party? It would certainly give *him* an appetite. In fact, his mouth was watering already! Sadly, however, this was no time to party.
Manlove waved Billy over as he read the engraved brass place on the inner office door. Not the modest type, this Admiral Shaggemal. He tapped on the closed door. No answer, naturally. Cracking the door open, he peered inside. The Admiral was alone? Interesting!
He turned back to the policeman, suppressing a smiles as he watched the young man carefully *not* look at he erotic tableaux in the center of the room. As if pretending he didn't see would somehiw convince the rest of the company that they hadn't seen him. "That will be all, Patrolman O'Doul."
"Are you sure?"
"This is confidential military business," Manlove gave the words his best `secret agent' inflection. The same one he had used so successfully in `The Case of the Crimson Code'. It worked just as well off the screen, he observed with a certain gratification as the officer instinctively moved to obey. "I'm quite certain I can tackle one man - even is he is an Admiral." Manlove added. "You go find the others - tell him I have the situation well in hand."
"Yes, sir."
I still have it!, Manlove thought as O'Doul barely stopped himself from saluting as he turned to obey. Then he noticed Billy biting his lip. the little chap was... unhappy?
"Sorry, lad." He gave Billy a firm hug. "Did you want to try out O'Doul?"
Billy blushed. Then, as he felt the blood warmth rush into his face, and saw his mentors knowing expression, he blushed deeper. Maybe he *had* been thinking that ... well... sort... of...! He shook his head firmly. "You know only want to please you!"
Which he did. Honest injun! He didn't *really* want to do anything with the cop. Even if he was sort of...? Billy refused to let his mind finish that sentence. Nobody was handsome like Sir Eric! Certainly not some Irish bull! It was just that... which what he had sort of almost seen in the parking lot, and what he had really seen in the doorway and in the office, and what he *knew* from last night... well...? He squirmed automatically, which just increased the heat in his back passage. A heat which reminded him that that was being done to others could - likely even would - be done to him. Done to him by the hero of his life. And that when it was sone he would like it - a lot. The same way that....
Billy took a deep breath. "I... like *you*, sir."
"And I you, lad." Manlove hesitated, his hand on the door. "But all you young chaps have police fantasies. Nothing wrong with that. There is just something about a man in uniform."
Billy said nothing. He just *couldn't*. There were no words. Not when Sir Eric was being... nicer then nice. He could only stand there and hope the older man miraculously understood. Which apparently he did.
"Maybe later." Manlove gave a significant glance at the growing bulge in Billy's trousers. " But our Mr. O'Doul seemed in a toppish mood. And you?"
"A bit sore, sir." Billy shifted nervously as he checked out the matching - but far larger - bulge in his mentors well tailored pants. "But if you want...?"
"No lad. I told you we would wait on that a bit." Manlove smiled. "It never does to rush these things." Twisting the doorknob he added, "I don't imagine we should wait to be announced." He eased open the door and stepped through.
Billy's eyes widened. there was only one man in the room - just as the actor has said - but that didn't mean he was.... not busy. Above the waist the Rear- Admiral wore a stiffly tailored jacket with a chest full of medals and ribbons. Below the waist? Billy couldn't help but look. That was stiff too. The navel officers starched uniform pants were crumpled around his ankles, ignored in the rumpus as Shaggemal masturbated himself frantically with a thick sheaf of soft-bound papers.
"Admiral Shaggemal?" Manlove addressed the uniformed man in the large leather chair. "Not too accurate, as you don't seem to be shagging any of them." Pulling the papers from the panting officers hand, Manlove glanced at the cover before tossing the sperm -drenched book. `Field Disposition of Large Bore Ordinance'? Eh? Not something to get him bloody excited, but to each his own. After a through inspection of the navy man's moderate sized but *rather* tasty looking cock, Manlove changed that to... To each his own, and several blokes for him.
As for *this* bloke. No reason that he and the lad couldn't have a bit of fun - all things considered. It's not like the chap was likely to complain afterwards. One sailors word against one of Hollywood's most powerful men? Even id the Admiral had good friends - which this posting might indicate that he did - or did not. The actor had no illusions which man would come out `on top'.
"I should introduce myself." The actor bowed slightly with mock- politeness. "I am Manlove - and my companion - Will Du Shagheim? Or don't shag him - in your case." Manlove gave a brief smirk of satisfaction as one of the Admiral's now-empty hands went uncontrollably to the mans swollen organ - and the other went deeper to probe his ass. "It appears you are not so... inclined. And here I was told you were a *top* man in your field."
"Can't... help..." Admiral Shaggemal gasped.
"Help? Gladly." Manlove slipped his hands under the navy mans arms and tilted him forward over his desk. "Billy, luv, would you and me that tube I gave you this morning?"
Billy did so, and Manlove squeezed a bit of cream on to his fingers before probing Shaggemal's shag-hole. As he had suspected. Not damp. He hadn't been humped too recently. But? He added a second finger, which was easily accepted.
"Not a virgin - not even all that tight." He gave the Navy man a firm swat on his upturned ass. "For shame! What would Mrs. Shaggemal say? If there is a Mrs. Shaggemal? Or is that your title...after hours?"
"No... can't..." The bent man moaned, shifting frantically.
Bloody weak effort to escape, Manlove thought. The poofter wanted it. He just didn't have the balls to *say* it
"You can and you will." Manlove insisted, sliding a knee against Shaggemal's thighs as he added a third finger to the mans rapidly stretching back passage. "Spread them - or I'll walk out now and leave you with with your hands tied to your chair." Seeing that draw a shudder, he added, "I can always say I did it to save you from yourself."
That threat brought obedience, and soon the senior officer was soon spread out. Twitching, yes. Wiggling, a bit. But none of those movements could possibly be taken as a defense.
Manlove had rather thought he might fuck the man, but now that he felt him? Not a bad snog, per se, but the actor had certainly had better. Quite recently. This morning even. Which brought up a memory. Which gave him an idea.
"Come here lad."
"Sir?" Billy stepped up to the desk, staring at the splayed Admiral with wide eyes. "Can I watch while you ....?"
"No, Billy luv."
Billy didn't protest, but Manlove could see the lads eyes fill with tears.
"Not that - you silly boy." Manlove rushed to reassure Billy.
It probably wasn't good for discipline, but he just couldn't bring himself to deprive the lad. And really, Wills had been a good chap. Not only had he taken his first fucking with barely a sniffle, but he had offered to go again. Granted, Manlove thought, he *had* been careful to go easy on the lad. Still? Ten inches was atill ten inches. There were plenty of older men who had cried like little girls after their `auditions' under `Sir Eric'. And this morning? Manlove smiled at the memory. Billy had to have been sore, but when the actor had produced the butt plug and explained what it was for? The boy had shivered a bit, but he had bent over and taken it without protest. Even during the long car ride, he hadn't complained. Granted, it wasn't that big a plug and the Rolls was a very smooth ride. But? The lad deserved a treat.
"I thought you might like to..." With his free hand Manlove stroked the front of Billy's trousers, then gestured to the Admirals upturned ass.
"Oh sir!" Billy beamed. " You mean... I could... you would let me?"
"You deserve a treat." He had rather vaguely planned to introduce the lad to the gardener, but that could be a treat for later. "Besides which." Manlove said as he reached down to slip the first button on his boys trousers. "It won't happen often, but I'll want you up top now and then - and you need to learn."
"But...? He's an Admiral!"
"A *Rear* Admiral. In more terms then one - it would seem. He's a bit loose for my taste, but for your first try? He should give you an easy ride. And your sweet prick should be just the length to make him happy too." Manlove reached for Billy's hand. "Give a feel here, luv." Carefully guiding Billy's hand, Manlove slid the tips of his fingers gently over Shaggemal's prostrate.
"Must..." The Navy man moaned, twisting suddenly at the overwhelming sensation.
Manlove slid Billy's hand back. "That's the spot you're aiming for."
"You... must... I... can't...."
"Quiet!" Manlove snapped. "Or I wont give you something to fill that mouth of yours. You should be honored. It's not often you get to be a handsome lads first `man-hole'." Aiming another swat at the navy man's quivering rump, he added. "At least - not generally. Although in your case? I suppose you have your pick of all these horney young sailors. "
"I... can't..." The Admiral moaned. "Don't.."
"Bottom?" Manlove laughed. " Give it up. If you topped at all, you'd be out there reaming one of those nice strapping sailors in the front office."
Manlove stepped to the front of the desk. Pulling out his own hard cock, he brushed it against the Admiral's lips until the man got the hint and opened his mouth.
"I would recommend that, personally. Nice tight ass on the black one." He thought for a moment. "Nice big cock too. Likely he knows how to use it, from the noise the other bloke was making. I bet if you promised him a three day pass he'd slick it up and fill this hungry backside of yours. Give you a ride so you wouldn't sit easy for a week."
The man on the desk jerked at the words.
Such a lying slut, Manlove thought. Shaggemal might protest, but given the chance? The tongue wrapping around his shaft wasn't exactly shy. This sailor had blown as many cocks as Manlove had blown off scripts - or he'd eat his Oscar. Shaggemal was hoovering his pre-cum like it was lunch and he's been three days in a soup line. Which was nice, Manlove conceded. Blow jobs were always a bit better when the blowee know what they were doing. But - the actor reminded himself - that wasn't the main point here. This was primarily to keep the man half-quiet while...
Manlove turned back to Billy, pleased to find that the lad had finished unbuttoning himself, and was now gently stoking his rock-hard cock. Really, he thought, Billy had a pretty one. Smooth and rosy. Maybe he would let the lad up top one of these days. Once the lad had proven himself a bit.
"Here" Manlove reached over the desk to spread the prone man's ass cheeks. Which also had the benefit of driving his own cock a bit deeper into the Admirals hot throat. Manlove shivered a bit as the gag reflex caused the throat muscles to tighten round him. "I'll hold him for you." he told Billy. "You just slide right on in."
Billy did so. "Oh!" he cried, looking up at his mentor with delighted eyes.
"Like it, do you."
Billy pressed forward until his balls brushed against the balls of the man below him. "He's tighter then even Miss D'Lite!"
Not that the lady had been very nice, but this? Billy leaned forward a little, awed at the way the hard ring seemed to squeeze his shaft like a thousand tiny fingers. This felt so *very* fine. If fucking asses always felt like this, Billy thought, it was a wonder that Sir Eric had been willing to give off after only once just because Billy was a little bit sore.
And then to give up this treat as well? Billy pulled back and gave another thrust, reveling as the Admiral's muffled cries told him how much the man below him was also enjoying this invasion. That did it! Manlove was absolutely, positively, without any question the total top-drawer *nicest* man in the entire world, and no matter *what* he wanted Billy was going to give it to him! Because he straight-out deserved it!
Manlove frowned slightly at the Admiral, who was certainly submitting to the lad but nothing more. Selfish of the slut, rather. Here the lucky bloke was getting a prime A-feature double reeler, and he thought all he owed in return was a couple of licks? Not bloody likely!
Another slap - hard this time - got the Admirals attention. "Work that ass - sailor. Make it good!" Manlove grabbed the Admirals cock and the man bucked forward instinctively.
"Ohhhhh!" Billy moaned.
Manlove stoked the Admiral's cock again, causing the man to both thrust and swallow. Good. Normally he liked to take his time, but the boy would come fast - and they all really did need to get back to work.
He looked at Billy, happily driving in and out between the quivering butt cheeks. "You like sodding blokes, do you?" he asked cheerfully. Not that there was any question, but... this was for the lads instruction - not just for a party.
"Sir!" Billy straightened. "Yes, sir!"
"That's good. Someday, Billy." Manlove smiled. "Someday I'm going to watch as you rogger some handsome young chap, and then when you're nice and deep in him I'm going to slide into you. Then I'm going to fuck you - and I'll fuck him through you - until you both scream."
"Ohhhhhhh." Billy came in a rush, overwhelmed by the sudden mental image. "Would you sir?"
Shivering, Billy pulled his softening shaft out of the Admiral's now-damp passage.
Manlove passed the lad a handkerchief with one hand while he picked up his strokes with the other.
"Ahhhh" Admiral Shaggemal came.
Manlove wiped his hands on the navy mans uniform jacket. Then, closing his eyes briefly, he spent into the Admirals mouth.
"Uhhhh." Shaggemal groaned.
Holding the man's jaws shut, he demanded, "Swallow. It's not polite to talk with your mouth full."
When Shaggemal had done so, Manlove pushed the man back into his chair. "Now, Admiral. Did you catch sight of two gangsters types? The FBI seems to think they are out here to snatch your balls."
Chapter 16: Pumping Ardor
While Manlove and his young friend `help' Admiral Shagemal, Patrolman O'Doul is searching carefully though the rest of the building, and Dr. Richard Long and FBI Agent Ash Shafter hurry to an office at the back of the top secret laboratory.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"General Ardor!" Shafter shouted, bursting though the door and quickly scanning the room as he did so. So far none of the... personnel... they had encountered had been any threat to anything but each others virtue, but from the sounds in here? "Are you being attacked?"
Shafter skidded to a halt, so quickly that Long almost ran into him from behind.
"Jeez!" Someone was being attacked, Shafter decided, but it wasn't the General. To judge from the firm grip General Ardor had on the body spread on his desk, he was more the aggressor in the game. A body which was - to judge from the almost constant moans and shouts - not objecting to the attention in any serious way. A body which was - and this was under the circumstances surprising - quite clearly female.
"Dr. Long." The uniformed man looked up, but his hips continued to drive into the writhing blonde below him with metrome like precision.
"General Ardor," Long said.
"Dr. Laie!" Shafter recognized the young lady from the museum.
She turned her head towards him, blond curls bobbing slightly in rhythm to the Generals ongoing thrusts. "Shafter. Errrh. Good to see you."
Shafter blinked, nonplused. The protocol classes at Quantico had never covered this. How did one respond socially to a field advisor, when said field advisor was being fucked on a desk by a general officer in an allied service?
Slipping a quick glance at Long, who had started efficiently checking out the room, Shafter decided that knowing how to handle this sort of situation must be one of those things that came with having *real* class. The type that you only got from being born rich and going to the right boarding schools and handling all those debutantes balls.
As if to confirm Shafter's opinion, Long stepped around the FBI agent and headed for the office safe. The small metal door hung off it's hinges. If the last Orb had been in there, it was gone, but perhaps...? He rifled through the various papers. Several of the top secret documents would be of great value to a foreign power, but none appeared to have been taken. That left only...
"Did they get the ball?" Long asked calmly.
"No. OOOOH!" Ardor answered, pausing a bit between drives.
"Doc...Ahhhh." Laie locked her ankles more firmly around the General's waist. "Doctor Wang took it away last night. He didn't say where. I was go.... ohhhh ... going to help the lab here devise a convincing fake, but.... UHHHHHh!
"You got hit first."
"Yes." Laie moaned. "Oh yes!"
Long shut the safe. "Did you see the gangsters?"
"Yes. Oh yes!"
"Where did they go?"
"Go? Ohhh. That way!" Laie dropped one limp arm in the general direction of the administration building.
Long spun on his heel. "Come!"
Long was speaking to Shafter, but apparently General Ardor took it as a command - because he did.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
In the mean time - Patrolman O'Doul made his careful way through the administration building. So far he had found only authorized personnel. At least he thought they were authorized to be here. It was highly unlikely that any one had *ever* been authorized to do what some of them were doing. With or without involving the armed services. At any rate, he considered as he closed another door on another room full of writhing bodies, everyone he had seen so far had appeared to be in at least *part* of a navy uniform.
He took another step down the hall and cautiously opened another door. Not that he expected any real danger. Other then the obvious threat to his virtue. Which was, O'Doul sighed, becoming less and less of an issue as... things happened.
None of the... sailors... had tried to stop his search. Most of them had been too occupied to even notice his arrival - although a few had objected to his departure. Mostly because it meant he was turning down their various offers of open body parts. Not that he wasn't occasionally tempted. Now that he knew what it was all about, some of the suggestions seemed really attractive. But he wasn't overwhelmed. The workout in the parking lot, combined with the events of the day before, had left him sufficiently depleted that he could keep his mind on his duty.
He closed the door again, deflecting the invitations of various cocks and asses that were waved in his direction with a quiet "No thanks".
He was about to move on to the next room when a flash of gray caught the very corner of his eye. A man's suit, disappearing around the bend in the hall. Nothing unusual, normally, but in the place of white uniforms?
He spun, shouting as he did so. "You there - stop!"
No one reappeared, but O'Doul did hear a rough voice holler "Boss! Lets hoof it!"
That didn't sound very navy! That sounded crook!
O'Doul took off at a run.
He caught another glimpse of gray as he reached the end of the hall. The back of one man, wearing a flashy civilian suit with his hat pulled down low to shadow his eyes. That looked like the man in the back of the suspect car! "Stop!" O'Doul shouted.
The gangster spun, sprinting down the all. Over that gangsters shoulder the policeman caught a glimpse of another man in dark brown. "Stop. I said!" O'Doul shouted again, running after them and pulling his gun. "Stop, or I'll shoot!"
The men just ran faster.
Well, O'Doul conceded, he hadn't expected them to surrender. He was armed, but in this narrow hallway he couldn't get a clear shot. Maybe when they tried for their car he could bag them, but right now they were headed away from the parking lot. They were headed towards the other building. the lab building. The building with Dr. Long and Agent...
"Shafter!" O'Doul called. "Gangsters headed your way!"
He couldn't know if that was quite true, but it might be. If it was, and if the FBI agent could get in front of the fleeing men, they could trap them with no way to escape.
He must have gotten lucky, O'Doul decided later. Either that, or sound traveled real well in concrete. Suddenly, a navy clad man came rushing through the door at the very end of the hall.
"Shafter!" O'Doul cried as the taller gangster slid to a halt. "Watch out!"
Shafter tackled the gray suited man, knocking him into the far wall.
"Freeze!" O'Doul rushed up, holding his gun on the shorter of the two criminals.
The man spun suddenly, kicking the revolver out of the policeman's hand.
Shit! No time to grab it back. O'Doul punched the gangster, and the fight was on!
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Long, with Dr. Amanda Laie following close behind him, arrived at the open door just in time to see the shorter gangster pull out a strange looking pistol and aim it at the two law-men.
"Watch out boss." The brown suited gangster shouted. "I've got `em."
The taller gangster ducked, rolling closer to his comrade. "Hit `em!" he commanded.
Vision dissolved in a pink flash.
When the light faded, the two gangsters were gone!
"Shafter!" Long cried, rushing up to the shaken agent.
"I'm OK. "Shafter pushed himself away from the wall, straightening his suit jacket. His ears buzzed, his muscles ached, and his backside throbbed like a mule had kicked it- twice - but he didn't think there was any actual damage. "Whatever they that was - it just blinded us for a bit." Hearing the quick roar of a high powered motor, he added bitterly. "Just long enough for the crooks to get away."
"Are you sure?" Long asked, loosening Shafter's tie and placing his palm at the base of the man's neck.
Shafter nodded at the open door which lead to the courtyard - and the parking lot. "That wasn't a military issue vehicle that just left."
"No. I mean are you sure you weren't... affected." Long's hands went to the agents shoulder, then moved down his sides in a slow and careful exam."That was the pink ray."
"Lucky I'm protected." Shafter leaned into Longs firm touch, grateful for the reassurance of human contact. He was all right. A bit shaken, and the once-cool protector now burned like a live coal, but compared to what could have happened?. "The ray stunned me more a moment, but nothing more. Thanks to you and the Pearl of Anubis."
"O'Doul?" Long looked down at the young patrolman, who was still shivering where he had fallen.
The young policeman started to pick himself up from the floor. "Only... glancing. I think I can handle it." The response might have been more convincing if one hand was not already rubbing his trouser fly.
Long bent down, quickly checking the pulse in the young man's throat. He paused, watching his wrist watch as he counted heartbeats, then shook his head. "Too fast." he told the fallen cop. "We have to get you back to treatment." He held his hand out towards the FBI agent. "Shafter? Your cuffs?"
"What?" Shafter pulled himself out of his reverie. Not like him to fade while on duty. The ray must have affected him more then he thought.
"Your cuffs." Long repeated. "For O'Doul. We have to stop him from harming himself before we can get back to LA."
Shafter handed over the chromed steal cuffs, and Long swiftly snapped them around O'Doul's wrists.
"Not too tight, I hope?" Long asked, checking the give on the steel chain before helping O'Doul to his feet. "I don't want to anything harder on you then it has to be."
"Here." Dr. Laie reached into her handbag and pulled out a small vial and a thin glass hypodermic. Squinting in the uneven light, she expertly drew back the syringe.
Long held the young patrolman's arms as she finished the injection.
"Just a bit of a nerve relaxant the lab here has been working on." Dr. Laie said, pleased to see some of the tension ease from the handsome young police officers faces as the drug took effect.
"That should help for a while."
Really, she thought. The cop seemed like a nice young man. What a pity he had the misfortune to stumble into this particular case. And then to be hit with the ray twice? Although, she considered, it did appear to get less traumatic with repeated exposure. Either that, or General Ardor was just more sexually acceptable then Dr Putzoutski. Which, she acknowledged, wouldn't take much. Still? For an experienced young man without the scientific training to view these matters objectively?
"You don't have to worry. I'll take good care of you." She patted O'Doul calmingly, pledging to do her best to assure the officers recovery.
Shafter looked over the blonde scientist with growing approval. Her skirt was a bit wrinkled, and two buttons were missing from her blouse, but other then that? Her hat was straight. Her makeup was fresh. Even the seams of her silk stockings were now straight and even.If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he would never have believed she was just five minutes out from a ferocious fucking. No wonder Long trusted the lady. She had to be one tough broad.
"Shafter?" Long asked, guiding O'Doul to the door. "Would you go find Manlove and Billy? Make sure they are all right?" Long looked up at the fidgeting agent. "Dr. Laie and I will take Patrolman O'Doul here back to the car. We need to get back to Los Angeles- immediately."
Chapter 17: Orbital Intersection
While Manlove rushes a ray-struck Patrolman O'Doul back to Long's lab in Los Angeles, an interesting event is taking place up in the orbiting spaceship.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
`At least the bastard could have bought a blotter!' That was Erros's thought as he stared at the unadorned top of Fleet Commander Farttoz's desk from a distance of about two inches. At least then he would have some reading matter to take his mind off of what Farttoz passed off as a mission review.
Erros shifted suddenly as the rough edge of the desk pressed uncomfortably into the softer skin of his belly. The motion translated down to Farttoz, who decided to interpret it as passion and picked up the speed of his thrusts.
Erros suppressed a moan. Of discomfort, not passion, but still. Farttoz would take any response as proof of his supposed mastery. As if his skinny withered prick was more then a passing tickle. Hell, Tanna could give better discipline with a strap on.
He relaxed his butt, deliberately loosing his rear passage. Let the bastard work for his satisfaction. If he could find any. Erros wasn't about to do anything to speed matters up. No matter how much he wanted to be out of here. At least, not anything that would even vaguely imply that he, Erros, was enjoying the process. Or objecting to it. Or even particularly noticing it.
He'd be fried before he'd give the old poof the satisfaction. He might have to take the fucking but he didn't have to pretend to enjoy it!
No! Any noise here would be sighs of boredom, caused by the lack of interest on Farttoz's plain gray desk. He considered pulling out a file and pretending to review this engineering reports. That would be the perfect insult to Farttoz's supposed masculinity.
No. He wasn't quite in a position to give such insults. Not yet. No until he had the whole power of the Rod of Ra under his control. And once he did? Then it would be Farttoz who assumed the
position - and Erros knew that *he* was equipped to assure that no such tactic would even be considered. When Erros fucked the old fart's narrow ass, the `Fleet Commander' would squeal loudly enough to be *heard* in Engineering.
Until then? Erros thought over the recent events. Anything to distract his mind from the pounding behind him.
It had been a bad day all round.
First, the earthling agents he had sent to the Navel Base had been unable to find the final Orb.
Perhaps they had been careless. Certainly, Erros thought, he would tell them they were before he punished them for their failure. Especially the short, rather attractive one. His `discipline' could be handled personally as soon as Erros returned to the earth base.
Most earthlings did not understand the proper ways of maintaining obedience. That much Erros had leaned from his `gangster' servants. Very likely the young earth creature had never submitted his flesh to a superior officer before. Erros could be the first to introduce the attractive male to proper discipline.
That was a thought which caused his flaccid cock to stir a bit, so he put it out of his mind. At least until Farttoz was done with the `review'.
Regardless of fault, Spaceman Tanna now confirmed that the Orb was not at the Base. If Erros could not come up with a plan to uncover the information from the earthlings , they would have to begin the search all over again.
That was the first disaster.
Then the two `gangsters' had tangled with unaffected earthling forces, and had barely gotten away. `Boss' - as the taller of the servants liked to be called - had afterwards insisted that the `flat foots' were no problem, but if they had a means of resisting the Ray? If they warned the other earth creatures of the danger yet to come? Erros was not yet prepared to face a planetary defense.
And - to top it all? If top was the word? Fleet Commander Farttoz had insisted that Erros fly back up to the Master Ship to `review' his results.
Results which - as of this moment - he didn't have. Thus the reaming.
Erros twitched again as he felt the cold splash inside his back passage. Very well. At least that was over.
Normally a disciplined officer would have been allowed to leave immediately, but Farttoz held his shoulders down a few more seconds. not enough to violate protocol. Just enough to press the point that Erros was in current disfavor.
"See that you find the Orb" Farttoz snarled, "before I am forced to review your command conduct again."
Erros stood up, saluting sharply. The quick movement brought a bit of a pang, but he would be spaced before he let old Fart-Off see any *hint* that he had managed to make any impression beyond the strictly military.
"I will get on it right away." Erros waited two beats before adding "Sir."
Sealing shut his pants, Erros made his way briskly to the door. Get on it he would. He would get *directly* on his disobedient gangster. Then, in the morning, when the young man had been properly impressed with the penalty of failure? Erros was sure the earthling would be *most* creative in finding ways to please his spaceman master.
Chapter 18: All the Comforts of Home
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Tires squealing, Eric Manlove spun the heavy Rolls Royce through the narrow suburban street and into the driveway of Richard Long's Griffith Park home, coming to a stop just inches from the garage door. Still had it, he thought. And people questioned whether he had done his own stunts. Hell, the actor thought, he was willing to do them in his own *cars*! How many of those United Artist pansies could say that!
Amanda Laie jumped out, not waiting for Billy to get the door - or even for the heavy car to stop rocking.
"Richard?" she asked, looking back at the blond haired scientist who was still in the car. "Is your lab set up? I want to start working on O'Doul."
"Sure thing." Richard Long pulled a heavy ring of keys from his pocket, tossing then to the young passenger in the front seat. "Billy, you open the door for the lady."
"Yes, sir." Billy caught the keys and, after a quick look at Manlove, scrambled to obey.
O'Doul was hunched over in the back seat, where he had passed the long ride shivering between the two scientists.
"Let's get you downstairs," Long said, lifting out the quivering patrolman. From the man's pale face and panting breaths, he was clearly in some sort of pain.
As Ashton Shafter got out behind the lad, he glanced back at their passenger. O'Doul had taken a hit for him, and while it was from an alien ray weapon rather then the more conventional bullet, the effect was apparently little less devastating. The FBI agent had tried to sustain the young officers spirits with casual conversation, but that had faltered as the injured man had clearly found concentration harder and harder. By the time they had reached San Fernando only Dr. Laie's touch had been able to rouse the lad from the stupor of his misery.
Now? Shafter was no doctor, but he could see even though the car window that O'Doul was in distress. His face was pale, despite a forehead covered with sweat that seemed more proper to a fever, and he shook when Dr. Long slid one arm under his hunched shoulder.
"Just a bit more to take." Long urged. "One more push and Amanda and I can help you feel better."
O'Doul tried to straighten, then gasped. He tottered out of the car, hunched down, with his hands protectively at groin level.
"Swollen, eh?" Long gave the young man's shoulders a gentle rub. "Don't be afraid. It won't be too long now, and you'll be getting some relief. Trust me on that." Long looked up, sending a dazzling smile at the fast vanishing back of his lady colleague, who was rushing young Billy through the open front door. Eager to get to the lab, he acknowledged with approval. "Amanda is just the woman to handle what is hurting you."
Ashton Shafter closed the car doors, then stepped carefully around to where Long was rising. Shafter was a bit... sore... from the bumpy ride. Not that the Rolls wasn't well... suspended. For some reason his mind shied away from the word hung. But on the ride back he had become... aware.. of a level of... vibration... that he had missed on the way out. Hopefully, now that hew was back on solid ground the sensations would go away. Especially if? He thought with a certain ...anticipation... of the neat tiled bathroom that Richard Long had so kindly offered him. The comfortable, personal room with it's not water and soft towels and... privacy. If he could have even half an hour there he was certain his ... difficulties... could be... eased.
He put that thought out of his mind. Duty first. They had three innocent civilians and a wounded lawman who needed his full attention. He could think of his own needs later. Their needs must come first.
"I can..." Shafter held out his hand, helpful.
"Thanks, Ash." Long smiled."But I know you need to report in.'
"Phone in the study?" Shafter made is a polite question. Not that Long had denied him anything. If anything, he had exceeded on the side of generosity. Still, it was never wise to presume.
Long scratched his chin. "Better use the phone up in your room. Less chance of being disturbed. " He gave the most subtle glance towards Eric Manlove, who was just emerging from the drivers seat.
Shafter nodded his approval. Long was right. Clever man for a civilian. Beyond just being a genius, the blonde man was street smart. Not that Manlove was a security risk, but it was still better to be safe then sorry. Hollywood was a nest of foreign influences. The Director himself had said as much. And while a man's man like Manlove was doubtless a true patriot, there was always the chance that some silly studio secretary would overhear something she could later be seduced to reveal.
"Then? " Long leaned over, dropping his voice to a whisper that brushed against Shafter's ear. "If you'd check out the house? Not that I'm worried but..." he sent a quiet glance at the figure of Amanda Lie as it vanished through the front door.
Right. They had a woman with them now. "Better safe then sorry."
Long smiled knowingly. "Always."
"Billy?" Long called the boy back from the front door. " "If you would help get O'Doul down to the Lab? There's and elevator just under the staircase, so he shouldn't be too much of a burden for you?"
"No problem, sir. I'm tougher then look." Billy rushed up to the good doctor, halting only when he passed before his mentor. "That is, if it's all right with you, Sir Eric?"
Manlove gave the boy an approving look before conceding with a casual wave. "Go ahead Billy." He paused a bit, then added. "Dr. Long is a ... good friend of mine. While we're here, I want you to do whatever he says."
Billy straightened with pride. "Yes sir!"
"There you go." Long helped the lad slide his arm securely under patrolman O'Douls shoulder. "Tell Dr. Laie I'll get Manlove settled and join you."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Shafter worried his bottom lip slightly as he counted the rings echoing over the phone line. Two. Three. Someone would pick up soon. It was later on the east coast, but...
A perky female voice cut through the rings. "FBI, Office of Exceptional Circumstances."
As he had thought. Even this late, that office would be busy. The security of the nation depended on it.
"Agent Ashton Shafter here, reporting in from Los Angeles."
So far so good. He knew he had to report, but... what? He had nothing good to say, and of the bad he had very little that was certain. Still..
"Agent Shafter." Her voice got even brighter. "We were hoping you would call. The Director asked to speak to you personally."
The Director? Himself? Personally? The ache in Shafter's backside was suddenly dwarfed by the acid burn in his stomach.
Before he could answer there was a clicking on the line, then " He is still in. Just hold a moment and I'll transfer you."
"Shafter." The too recognizable voice growled in Shafter's ear. An ear that was somehow directly connected to Shafter's suddenly stiffened spine.
"Sir." The only safe reply. The Director didn't sound *un* happy. At least not more so then usual. But still....
"I just got a call from Admiral Shaggemal."
"Sir."
"It seems your friends made quite an impression on the man."
"Sir?" This time he allowed it to edge into a question.
"He mentioned that you and.. several others... were at the base just after it was attacked."
Of course, Shafter realized with something that felt remarkably like relief. The Director would know that. The Director knew everything.
"Pink ray, he said."
"Yes, sir. I'll have Doctor Long forward a full analysis, sir."
"By morning."
"Yes, sir."
"The Admiral insisted there were not casualties, and that he had put the entire crisis behind him. Is he taking me in."
"I believe the Admiral is accurate, sir. Mr. Manlove assured me that he had dealt with the Admiral, and while there had been a tough passage, by the time they parted the Admiral had his office staff well in hand. I'm confident that with General Ardor's help they can cover the whole base." Shafter forced himself to swallow before continuing. "Although an LAPD officer - one Patrolman Darryl Francis O'Doul - was hit by a hand ray while preventing the attempted robbery. Dr. Laie is treating him now."
"You weren't hit?"
"Not badly, sir."
"But you *were* hit?"
"Slightly. sir." The deep heat in his rear flared at the memory of that `slight' hit, but Shafter willed his voice to remain steady. "Nothing that will keep me out of action."
"Good."
"The Admiral *had* mentioned that you had an Eric Manlove out there with you. Would that be the actor?"
"Yes, sir." Shafter's fingers whitened on the hand piece. "Mr. Manlove came along as an expert on unusual balls. He is a very avid collector."
"So I've heard." The Director's voice dropped to a dangerous purr. "I'll have to see his balls for myself someday. If I ever get to California."
There seemed no proper remark, so Shafter stayed silent.
"I don't need to tell you, Shafter, how seriously I take this situation. Dark forces are abroad, and if they get their hand on our balls America itself could be at risk.
"Yes, sir." Shafter nodded automatically at the phone "I know my duty."
"And I also don't need to tell you how important it is to take care of our... allies."
"Sir?"
"Manlove has a lot of influence in Hollywood. Influence that he uses for his countries good. Real men like Manlove have been very supportive of the Agency. I don't have to tell you how wise it would be to return the favor."
"No sir." Shafter wasn't entirely comfortable with such politics, but he understood them.
"And this Richard Long?"
"He's been completely supportive, sir." Shafter was shocked to hear himself say. No smart agent even thought to argue with the Director, but... "I have complete faith and trust in Dr. Long."
"So do several senators. Not to mention his friends in the Navy. The man is... influential."
There was a strange note in the Directors voice, but it was not a rebuke, so Shafter pressed on. "I assure you, sir. There is not a man out there I would rather have at my back then Dick Long."
"You're a good man, Shafter. Hard and steady."
At the unexpected praise, Shafter straightened still further.
"I expect you to bang away on this case until you can hand me those villains *and* their balls." There was a low snort before the Director continued. "As for these gangsters? I want you on their ass - day and night - until you have those dirty pricks in your hands."
"Yes, sir!"
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"Eric." Long moved swiftly over to the built in bar, sliding open the false back panel and pulling out a slim amber bottle. "Your usual?" Pure courtesy. Long poured three fingers of Scotch without waiting for an answer.
"With a G-man in the house?" Manlove accepted the glass, enjoying a long sip before dropping easily into the well-stuffed easy chair.
"For medicinal purposes only - prescribed by me." Long poured a second drink for himself before sliding the bottle back into it's niche. "It has been a rough day."
Manlove nodded. "And not over yet?"
"Sadly, no." Long stepped over to perch on the roll arm of the Manlove's chair. " Would you mind staying the night? We're safer with all the affected personnel together - and while you have a spectacular house I do have the better lab."
"No problem." Manlove pulled over the table phone. "I'll call Fifi to being over some things. Blue guest room. I assume?"
"Sorry." Long smiled, half apologetic but half smug. "Green. At least until tomorrow night. I put Shafter up before I knew you were coming."
"And he's still needs a room?" Manlove answering expression was pure smirk.
"Not in *my* mind - but he may still think so."
"Understood." Manlove knocked back the last of his drink. "Straight men can be so skittish. Balls deep in their ass and they still insist on being pals. But.." He paused, catching the second half of Longs statement. "Tomorrow? So you expect to me making ... headway tonight?
"Head would be good." Long grinned as he reached over to take the actor's now empty glass. " I'm not certain he's ready to go that far just yet, but... I definitely plan to make a move tonight." At Manlove's interested gesture, Long continued thoughtfully. "I probably would have anyway. This morning was very promising. But given today?" Long took the last swallow of his own drink. " Shafter was hit harder than he thinks. Even though he does have the pearl." Long let the meaning dangle.
"I had wondered about that. Real deal? Or just a chance too..."
Only *you* would have that devious of a mind. No - the pearls are seriously effective. Otherwise I would not be wearing one... OK - so I might - but you know my meaning. The Sub molecular resonance of the Pearl of Anubis provides a counter vibration to the rays copulo-neuronic pulse that mitigates the specific effect of the orgasmatronic vibrations, but..."
Manlove finished. "No protection is perfect?"
"Exactly."Long stood, setting the two empty glasses back on the sideboard. "And from the way he was squirming in the car? Shafter should be getting... very persuadable."
"You mean desperate." Manlove's face twisted in a wicked leer. "Such a big, strong specimen of manhood - burning with desire - with no hope of relief except kindly Doctor Dick." Manlove grinned lecherously. "I do hope you've been eating your Wheaties. Or something."
"Or something." Long wiped out the glasses, and tossed the used bar towel on to the table tray. "I best be getting to the lab. I'll leave you to take care of business."
Manlove turned away, dialing. "When you see my Billy - send him up. All this talk has made me... restless."
"Sit down dinner at eight." Long headed for the stairs, pausing only to call back, "Make sure Billy *can* sit down."
Manlove only smirked. "Maybe you should make it a buffet."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
As he reached the stairs, Long caught the low rumble the water heater. So. Shafter's conversation with the FBI office was done, and he was taking a shower.
Long hesitated. He wanted to head upstairs. Upstairs where Ash Shafter was right now standing naked under steaming jets, trying to work the stiffness from his aching muscles. And - Long smiled widely at the glorious image - doubtless trying to work out another stiffness as well.
Normally Long would have regretted the waste. After all, he had much better uses for Shafter's cum then just washing it down an unfeeling plumbing. Such as feeling it. An tasting it. And using it to lubricate that tight passage where his own fluids would mingle with it.
He forced his mind back to more immediate- if not truly more serious - concerns. They had a patient downstairs. A man in pain. And while Amanda Laie truly *did* have the unquestioned skills to handle this problem, he was still bound by oath to render what aid and comfort he could. He might not practice medicine anymore, but his mother had raised her son to respect the healer's traditions. If by any act he could grant healing or relieve pain, it was his solemn duty to do so.
Reaching the lowest floor - the one where the surgical offices and recovery room were kept - Richard Long paused at the door. It was open just a crack, and beyond it he could hear the harsh rush of labored breathing.
"Oh Oh Oh Oh."
Stepping in, Long scanned the tiny reception area. Empty. Unsurprising, as this room was not equipped for extensive patient treatment. He had set it up only because a waiting room was expected. And, he added mentally, because his few personal patients occasionally brought the sort of companion who couldn't be persuaded to share the therapy.
"Ohhhhhhh."
Muffled but unmistakable. O'Doul, from the sound. Clearly Dr. Laie had already started treatment.
"Ahhhhhh!
And it was going well. At least from Amanda's point of view.
"Huh! Huh! Huuuuh!"
And Billy wasn't complaining either.
Still? He slipped silently through the door. Amanda was an old friend - and the type of caring physician that never refused a helping hand or an honest second opinion.
Long pulled off his tie, tossing it over the coat stand.
The door to the operating room was closed, but the door to the recovery room was a few inches ajar. Reasonable. What O'Doul was receiving might have technically been an *invasive* procedure, but from the feel of things back in the car Long didn't expect persuading the man to accept it to require restraints.
"Ohh Ah Uh Ohh Ah Uh." The triad moans speeded up.
In fact? Long pulled his shirt tails out, one hand fumbling with buttons as the other rested on the door. From the sound of things, they might need the restrains to persuade O'Doul to *stop*.
"Amanda?" Long called softly.
"Coming." Her voice was ragged, but clear enough.
"No doubt."
Long stepped through to door just in time to see his colleague collapse forwards, caught in the grip of orgasm. O'Doul lay sprawled below her, his hands tied to the head rail, only half conscious from the force of his sexual explosion. Billy straddled the man's face, white smears marking the shaft that moments before had filled the patrolman's sex-hungry lips.
Bits of his clothing littered the floor. Billy's fine tailored suit and the shreds of a police uniform, mixed here and there with a woman's slightly neater discards. Apparently the treatment had been almost too late.
Still? Long ran a not-completely - unprofessional eye over the two passion damp bodies. Apparently the procedure had been successful.
"Billy?" Long offered the young man a hand as he scrambled off the bed. "Mr. Manlove you like to see you upstairs."
There was a gasp, a quick scramble for garments, and the lad was gone.
"That was mean." Laie pouted slightly.
"That was true." Long picked a towel off the bed stand and offered it to the bare blonde, who ran it gratefully over her damp forehead. "Although I doubt Manlove will punish the lad for his inattentiveness once he learns how helpful Billy was being down here. At least." Long grinned. "Not in any way the boy will dislike."
Laie grinned back, catching the meaning. really, Manlove's claim on his new pet *had* been rather obvious. She considered that. For all his more generous moments, the actor was the type to be occasionally possessive of his toys. And Billy was a very fresh - and very wanted - acquisition. If Manlove decided to be offended rather then amused at the boys adventure? Oh well. With two physicians in the house, they could doubtless come up with a balm for bruised buttocks.
She shivered slightly as the hot flush of her passion cooled slightly. The room was warm enough, but compared to the burning flesh that had filled her just seconds before? "You came down to reclaim Eric's new pet?"
Snarky, Long thought, but Laie could be that way if you left her unsatisfied. Not that Long ever had ... personally. For which he was honestly thankful. Because there were stories.
He put that gossip aside. "I came down to offer you a hand."
"Good." She took his palm and rested it on O'Doul's shaft, watching with satisfaction as the limp flesh refilled under the warm touch. "That will do - to start."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
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Chapter 19: Crimes and Punishments
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Meanwhile, back in a hidden cave dug below the San Bernardino Mountains, fearful events are unfolding. The gangsters have returned empty handed, and now their harsh alien masters meet
to determine their fates.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
The camouflaged roof hatch was still closing as Force Commander Erros jumped out of the command rocket.
Twin rows of uniformed aliens snapped to attention, fists clenched across their chests, as Spaceman Tanna hurried up the path between them.
"Hail, Force Commander Erros"
"Hail, Deputy Tanna."
Erros held his returning salute a bit linger then strictly needful in silent acknowledgement of her just-announced elevation.
A sudden decision, but wise. The promotion was due - and would offer an explanation for his sudden visit `upstairs' interesting enough to distract the underlings gossip from any less victorious possibilities.
He touched her arm as they entered the quiet tunnel that lead to his personal quarters.
"Gather the terrans. It is time for my judgment."
Tanna looked up, he manner half hesitant. "You will punish them, Erros?"
A question? Why would she...? "Do you argue against it?" He allowed his voice to harden. Not yet rebuke, but...."
"Never, Force Commander."
Her submission was evident. Wise, Erros thought. He may have suffered a ... slight setback... but he was still very much the master here.
"I would only ask a boon." Tanna continued cautiously. "If the creatures are to be punished anyway...?"
"Yes, Tanna?" He granted her a half smile. If the boon was not inconvenient? It might be wise to show he could reward as well as punish.
"I have been working also on another application of our project." Reaching into her shoulder bag, she pulled out a knob-studded silver device is a very familiar shape. She flipped a switch, setting the two balls at the base whirling while the probe in the upper shaft worked itself up and down. "It is a small model of the proposed Orgasmatronic Application Unit."
"And you would test it on the earth creatures."
She bowed. "If it is your will."
Erros considered. The device did have it's interesting aspects. And Spaceman Tanna *did* have a proven talent for creating useful technology. It might prove... rewarding... to give her creative inspiration free reign with at least one of the earth creatures.
If it worked - he would have a more obedient servant.
If not? No doubt another earthing could be recruited. After all, the creatures were running wild all over the planet.
"Very well." He granted. "You may have the taller one. The more attractive creature I will keep for myself."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Back at the Long residence, however, our hero's have no idea about the villains dark designs.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"You wanted me, sir?"
Eric Manlove leaned back into the cushions of his comfortable arm chair, smothering a grin as young Billy stumbled in his rush to get through the door without daring to slam it.
"What kept you, lad?"
Billy looked away. Supposedly he was busying himself with hanging up Manlove's discarded jacket, but Manlove could make out the edge if a blush as it rose above the starched white collar.
"Um. I was... downstairs. With Dr. Laie."
Really. Manlove thought. He would have to work on the boys vocabulary. `Sir Eric's" people did not say `umm'. At least not in conversation. But he put that aside for the moment, focusing on the more immediate matter needing correction. Billy's conduct.
"With Dr. Laie." Merely a repetition, with only Billy's nervous conscience to make it a question. But that should suffice.
"Ummm." Billy' hand trembled as he reached for a hanger. "Helping her.... with Mr. O'Doul."
"Ah yes. Our ray-inflamed young copper." Manlove swung his ankles off the hassock, resting his feet gently on the carpeted floor. "Dr. Long said that when he got there ... you had your cock in this O'Doul's mouth."
"Um..." Billy's voice dropped to a whisper. "Yes. sir."
"And I suppose that was at Dr. Laie's request?"
"Well." A bit of a tremor in the voice now, and the jacket- decked hanger clattered against the closet rod. "She said I could, sir."
"And. of course, Dr. Laie is in charge of your conduct?" Pure silk in those tones,and below then just the hint of the whip.
Billy caught it ant spun, facing his mentor with uncertain eyes. "Um. Sir?"
"Well, lad." Manlove pressed the question home. "Is she?"
"Umm. No sir?"
"Good. Billy." Manlove tapped the chair arm to summon the boy over. "And who is?
Billy obeyed. "Um... you are sir?"
"Very good, Billy. Yet you asked Dr. Laie if you could rogger that young cop."
"Well." Billy stared at his shoes. "I guess.... maybe... I didn't think you'd mind, sir."
"Because?" Manlove ran one finger under the young man's quivering chin, forcing his face up until damp emerald eyes struggled to meet his own.
"Because... What you said back at the base. About uniforms and all."
So - you didn't think I'd mind if you stuck your prick - a prick that just last night you promised to *me* - in the mouth of some random stranger."
Billy blushed again, this time openly. "You said. I thought..."
"But you didn't ask, did you?"
Billy's shoulders dropped, defeated. "No sir. Sorry sir."
Eric Manlove reached over and wrapped the shaking form in a warm hug. "As it happens, Billy. I don't mind if you pick up the occasional blow job from some handsome buck." He leaned back, searching Billy's face to make certain the boy understood. "You're young. Sex feels good. I know I won't always be able to be with you. Certainly I would not be so cruel as to expect you to go without when I have to be concentrated on my work. But what I do expect is that you will *ask*. You have given yourself to me - and I expect you to trust my judgment."
"So.." Billy dashed away a tear. "You're not really mad at me?"
"Of course not, Billy." Manlove pulled out a handkerchief and dabbled at he boys freckled cheeks. "Just a bit disappointed, that's all. You didn't mean to displease me. You were just thoughtless. Thoughtless and a bit selfish."
"So... It's all right now?" The voice was cautious, but hopeful.
"It will be." Manlove sat back into the wide upholstered chair. "Undress, Billy. Then lay down here -across my knees."
"But.." Billy shuddered. "I thought... you said."
Manlove smiled. That was not truly argument on the lads part, for his busy fingers were already at his shirt buttons. The lad might demure a bit - but he would not defy his master's command.
"I said that I would not punish you." Manlove answered calmly, taking the tie from Billy's hand and laying it on the magazine table. "This is merely... correction." Manlove gave his boy a toothy smile." If you ever defy me - you will learn the difference."
There was some fumbling - some near-hesitation - but in a moment Billy was nude and face down across the older man's thighs.
Really, Manlove thought. It was a pity to redden such perfect white cheeks. He ran his hand over the plump roundness, enjoying the quiver of anticipation the shuddered through the tense body spread before him. It had to be done, or the lad would never truly develop into his full potential. And that would be a true tragedy. Still? The morning had been a trifle over-stimulating. Manlove considered, then reached down and pull out the but plug he had placed that morning. It was a first offense. No need to be harsh to the lad.
He gave the pale cheeks one last fond rub, then raised his hand.
*thwack*
"Oh!" A low shout. More surprise then pain.
"Does that hurt?" Seemingly foolish question, but Manlove knew what he was about. Just now he wanted to focus the lads mind on his punishment.
"Yes." Billy shivered. "Oh, yes sir."
"Good. Its supposed to." Manlove gave the pinked cheek another rub.
*thwack*
Another swat, bringing the second cheek to match the first. "It's for your own good, Billy."
*thwack*
"You are a very pretty boy, Billy. Very pretty, and very sweet. But sometimes pretty, sweet, boys think that kindness means they can do what ever they want and not obey."
*thwack*
"Do you think that?"
*thwack*
"No." The quiver carried real pain, this time. "No sir."
"Good lad, Billy."
*thwack*
"I want to be kind to you. Do you think I've been kind?"
*thwack*
"Uh!" A gasp this time, Manlove noted, before Billy could answer. "Yes sir, but..."
*thwack*
"But what, Billy?" Manlove kept his voice light.
A hard shudder. "Nothing sir."
*thwack*
"You think because I'm correcting you I'm not being kind?"
*thwack*
This time Billy's gasp edged into a sob. "Please, sir."
"You must understand, Billy."
*thwack*
"I would be cruel if I did *not* punish you. Because then you would not learn how to please me."
*thwack*
"You do want to please me, don't you Billy?"
"Oh." A true sob, and Manlove felt the splash of ears against the arm that passed under Billy's chest. "Yes, sir."
*thwack*
One last smack,a bit harder, just to the lad wouldn't think the could get out of trouble with an pleasing answer.
"Very well, Billy." Manlove ran his palm over the now-scarlet cheeks, reveling in the heat he had raised. "I believe you have learned your lesson."
Spreading his legs farther, he eased Billy down to kneel on the floor before him.
"On your knees, lad. Time to apologize."
Manlove slid down his zipper, allowing his now-full cock to spring free. Really, the lads writhing had been most inspiring. Manlove glanced down at the boy. Make that inspiring to both of them.
"No, Billy" he growled, catching one of the lads hands before it could reach it's destination. "Don't touch yourself. You haven't earned that yet."
Billy shuddered, but did not protest. Instead, he raised his hands to Manloves's thighs as he lowered his lips down to take in the purple head of his master's cock. A few tears splashed down, mingling with the clear pre-cum, before the shaft vanished into Billy's obedient heat.
"Good lad." Manlove thrust forward, though not as deep as he would have liked. Later he would have to train the lad to deep throat, but just now? These were early days. He quivered a bit himself as Billy's' tongue traced the delicate slit in the head. Early days, but the talent was promising.
He could hold out longer, but why? Endurance training would come in time, but just now the vision of the little chaps tear-stained cheeks puffed out around the filling of man-meat was too delightful to resist.
Manlove twined his fingers in Billy's red curls and thrust deep, happily spilling his satisfaction into the lads no-longer-virgin throat.
"Swallow, lad."
Billy did his best to obey.
Manlove took one of the lads hands and, holding it firmly, guided it down so Billy could stroke his own rod.
"Very good. Now you can cum."
Billy did so.
Manlove handed him a handkerchief, watching while the lad cleaned first Manlove, then himself.
"You sucked me very nicely Billy."
Billy raised the handkerchief, dabbing at the bits of white that dotted his cheeks. "Thank you, sir."
"Now." Manlove pushed the lad back. "Go get ready for dinner. If you please me with your good behavior, I'll let you pleasure me again tonight."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
While Eric Manlive and his companion shower and dress for dinner, renewed in their harminy, let us tunto the less harmonious ocurances at the base of the aliens.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Force Commander Erros looked back at the pale figure now lying limp on the padded bench in the punishment room.
Quite the spirited creature, the attractive earthling. It had taken four guards to properly shackle his limbs. And even then... he remembered how the earthing had shouted when the preparations had made the nature of his punishment finally clear. Several of the words had not been in the Language Analyzer. Still, Erros rather suspected he had caught the meaning. Even when the situation had been clearly hopeless, the creature had tried to resist, clenching his back cheeks as if that weak resistance somehow could prevent the Commander's entry.
Even when penetrated, the foolish creature had continued to fight. It had taken four full sessions and the threat of further punishment by the guards before the earth-being had finally surrendered and offered up the proper words of obedience.
Erros smiled at bit at the futile struggles that he - at least - had enjoyed. Apparently this had been the earth creatures first punishment.
He would have to meet with Spaceman Tanna later and review her success. If her subject too had put up such a resistance, these could indeed be a formidable race. Not that any lesser beings could hope to resist the culture of the Leader. All foes crumbled before the might and cunning of the Fleet. But until they were utterly conquered?
Erros scanned the exhausted body again.
He suspected that the creature was truly not broken. That - despite the proper words of surrender - a part of the earthing still resented the need for correction.
A double benefit, Erros decided. One that would benefit him either way.
The memory of his subjugation might motivate the earthling to greater success. And if not? Well, then. Erros could at least punish him again.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
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•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Chapter 20: It's Long! In Shafter! (Finally!)
Perhaps, Shafter thought as he switched off the throbbing jets and reached for the towel he had tosses over the heated rod, he shouldn't have gone straight from the Directors' call to the shower. Perhaps he should have waited, just to make sure he wasn't exhausting the hot water supply, but he had *needed* that shower. Not only because he could... release the days... difficulties... in steam drenched privacy, but also for the sensation of cleanliness. The feel of the hot jets flushing all the assaults and tensions out of his mind, and leaving only the warmth of loyal companionship.
Beside. Miracle of miracles - the hot water had held out. Long must have installed - he didn't know what - a hundred gallon tank - because the clanking pipes in his DC flat would have given up *long* before the second soaping. Not to mention the time spent in... other... activities. As it was? If anyone else had drawn on the hot water, it hadn't even blipped.
Ash Shafter stepped from the bathroom, towel draped loosely around his hips.
Great thing about having money - or at least the new central heating. Every room was comfortable enough that you could almost live *without* clothes. Not that he wanted too, of course, but... He put the confusing thought out of his mind.
Although - being without clothes was sort of a problem. At least -being without the proper clothes. Long had indicated that they would dress for dinner. Last night they hadn't bothered. But then - last night they had been alone. Well, together. He waved off the detail. What mattered was, tonight the other men were changing before they ate, which left Shafter?
In the Army, they had called it Sadly Out of Luck.
Long had a tux.
Manlove - naturally - had a tux.
Evidently - and this was a bit of a surprise - even Billy ( or rather William) had a tux.
Shafter?
He had three suits. Two blue. One black. The newest was blue, and he was wearing it. The black one was... getting rather shiny, truth be told. He had only brought it along in case he couldn't find a cleaner. And it had spent the last 48 hours stuffed in a small suitcase, which meant that it was probably...
Shafter lifted the case.
Empty.
Apparently the maid - or someone - had been here while he and Long were gone.
The clothes that had been in his suitcase were now in his closet - along with several shirts and ties he had never seen before.
He really couldn't accept... but...
His fingers reached out, drawn by the flawless linen.
No.
Shafter forced himself to reach for his own, plainer garments.Except... they weren't there. Another quick flip through the rod. Nope. It was a big closet, but he had a small wardrobe. there was no way the three shirts he had brought with him could be hiding.
He shrugged into his bathrobe and - steadying himself - knocked sharply on the connecting door. "Dr. Long?"
"Shafter?" Long turned with a welcoming smile. He also was wearing a dressing gown of sorts. A short one - in the Japanese style - that showed off the muscled length of his legs. Well, yes, Shafter decided. The man wouldn't need a long flannel robe like Shafter had brought from DC. After all, the scientist lived in this sun-drench city all the time. And if it ever did chill off? Hell, the man could probably afford a dozen robes. One for every climate.
"My shirts?"
"You should have them tomorrow. Maria sent them out to the laundry." Long strode over to lean casually against the arm of a comfortable looking leather chair. "You can wear what she put in your closet until then."
The draped collar of Long's robe fell open, giving Shafter a clear view of hard brown nipples set on a lightly furred chest. Not that he was looking. Or would care *what* another man's chest looked like. Really. He was just... glad to see that the doctor worked out. Or something. Because the muscles in that chest looked firm, and strong, and hard, and... he was just glad to see the man could probably fight - The FBI agent forced himself to finish. Because Long would be the man at his back... in a fight... whatever.
"She couldn't tell which shirts had been worn, and you weren't here to ask." Long was continuing, somehow oblivious to Shafter's distraction. For which Shafter was grateful. But now the handsome blond in the short robe was looking at him as if expecting... something. An answer.
"But..." Shafer began, his tongue heavy in his mouth.
"Really, Ash." Long dropped onto the chair seat, adding a flash of tan thigh to the tantalizing view. "The woman works hard enough. You can't expect her to do extra laundry as well. You'll just have to make due with some of my extras until yours come back."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
The FBI agent was still feeling a bit... uncertain... as he made his way down to the dining room. True, he hardly was the sort to dump extra work on a woman who probably had work enough. And - after all - she wasn't *his* maid. Not that Shafter was the type of guy who ever *would* have a maid. The FBI was a good job, but Shafter knew he was just a regular Joe. The type who cleaned his own flop and stirred up his own mac-and-cheese when he had to scrape the coins to send out his laundry. Not the type of guy who had fancy linen shirts and slick silk ties appear in the closet like magic. Hell, not the type of guy who got linen and silk at all.
He brushed the pearl-gray band that had been draped over his mysteriously pressed black suit. Long's, he assumed. He sure didn't own anything half so nice. But with the sharp linen shirt, the spiffy tie brought up his black suit to something.. almost OK.
He better not get used to living like this - because it wasn't for him. He was a Joe. Shafter reminded himself. Just a regular Joe, with lots of stuff he didn't get and couldn't have, and that was all he would ever be.
Shafer forced his fingers to unclench on the polished oak railing. It wasn't the house's fault that he was... confused. But he needed to get his head straight.
Long was being generous to give him a place here. He shouldn't go making problems as well. But that was the problem. Long was being too generous. Too kind. Too *nice*. Welcoming Shafter to a way of life that was just a bit too fine for the agents hard-scrabble background. And Shafter had the feeling it would be too easy to get too used to it.
Too easy to get used to here.
Too easy to get used to Richard Long.
He reached the bottom stair just in time to see a young lady he remembered from Manlove's place trotting towards the dining room with a big covered tureen.
"Miss D'Lite. Here, let me take that." He grasped the bowl by the handles, easily lifting it above her grasp.
"Non." She shook her head. "You are the guest."
Shafter ignored the protest, standing back so she could proceed him into the dining room.
"And you...?"
Fifi D'Lite shrugged, then complied. "I come to bring Sir Eric his things. He and Billy, they stay here tonight. And I remain to help with the dinner." She indicated the matching tray on the buffet.
Shafter hurried to set down the heavy tureen. "If I can...?"
"Non." She shook her head, then pulled out a chair at the right top of the table. "You stay here. I will go tell the others dinner is ready."
Shafter had never had a woman hold a chair for him, but... hell. If that was the way the rich lived? He didn't want to appear *completely* ignorant.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Long came in almost immediately, seating himself at the head of the table. Right beside Shafter. Shafter allowed himself to feel a moments pleasure at the man's nearness, but then sternly insisted to himself that he was glad of the company *only* because he really wanted to talk with the blond scientist... about the case.
Dr. Laie came up from the lab, escorting a very worn looking Darryl O'Doul. She looked like a starlet in an ice blue satin gown tight enough to leave him wondering if whoever had unpacked her suitcase had forgotten her underwear. The patrolman was wrapped in a heavy velvet and satin dressing gown. It looked wonderfully warm. One more of Longs, Shafter decided. The man must have an incredible wardrobe, to be so generous with it.
He deliberately ignored the vision of what the wider shouldered Long would look like in such a robe - perhaps tucked up in that wide leather chair, snuggled in front of a toasty fire, up in that beautiful bedroom that Shafter had seen earlier.
Manlove took the other end of the table. More formal then the others, the actor was wearing a midnight blue tux with diamond studs, and looked every inch the `Heartthrob of Hollywood'.
All three men had stood when the lady doctor had come in, but Amanda Laie waived off their assistance as she seated O'Doul across the table by Manlove, and herself took the remaining chair next to long. That left only?
Shafter turned discretely to Long. "Billy is...?" Surely they wouldn't make the boy eat in the kitchen? I mean, he wasn't a *servant* to Eric Manlove. More of a friend. Or..?
Eric Manlove smiled benevolently. "William is helping Miss D'Lite."
Well, Shafter decided with some relief, that was proper. His own mother would have had him carry the heavy dishes when they had guests. So these folk weren't really strange. Even if Dr. Laie was a bit over-schooled for a woman, and Manlove was maybe something of a foreigner, there was nothing actually queer about them.
Long leaned over, his voice confidential. "I don't think Billy wants to sit with us. In fact, I don't think he wants to sit at all. Not after the hiding Manlove gave him."
"He spanked the boy?" Shafter didn't quite know why the thought disturbed him.
Long picked up his snowy napkin, shaking it into his lap before answering. "Apparently Billy disobeyed Manlove and put himself in... a bit of risk."
At the affected base? He hadn't heard a word about it in the car. But then, there had been greater problems on everyone's mind. And maybe Manlove didn't want to embarrass the boy by correcting him in public.
"Oh - well. Boys will be boys." Shafter picked up his own napkin as Fifi came in with a tray of salads. This time it was chopped greens, topped with tiny bits of almonds and oranges and little white noodles. Nothing he could identify, but from past experience it would probably be delicious.
Shafter waited until Manlove and Long had picked up their forks before he took his first bite. It was delicious. Creamy and tart and... fresh. He savored the flavor a moment before turning back to Long.
"Still, it's good that Billy has someone like Manlove to take such a deep interest in him." Shafter said as he speared an orange bit. "As long as the man doesn't try to turn the lad into one of those pansy boys. I mean - a man has to be able to take it like a man."
Manlove was quite the dasher, Shafter knew. He had made love to every woman in Hollywood except Doris Day. But still. A man who spent so much time worrying about his balls? That want exactly the same as collecting baseball cards.
Long nodded, lifting his water glass. "Oh - I am very certain young Billy will. Learn to hold up like a man - I mean."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
It was an hour and a half later when Shafter let his fork clatter lightly down onto the delicate china plate. Whatever this unknown Maria's aversions to doing laundry, she was certainly not unfond of the kitchen.
Salads had been followed by a rich cream soup that would have been his whole meal back in his own apartment. Not that Campbell's had ever made a soup that good. But still. Here it had been followed by a flaky white fish smothered in shrimp and bits of crab. He didn't know much about fish - having generally encountered them only in the form of army fish sticks - but whatever this was had tasted just a good as real meat. Even better. Then that had been followed by *two* deserts. Vienna style chocolate cake and fresh strawberry pie. Both topped with whipped cream.
When Billy had rolled the cart out, Shafter had thought is was one of those `take your pick' deals that fancy restaurants sometimes had. Which was great. Heck, super-great. Except they both looked so mouth watering that he was going to have a hard time deciding which to pass by.
But... Dr. Laie had asked to a bit of each. As had Long. So when it was his turn he had taken his courage and followed their example.
Sometimes it paid to roll high. Billy hadn't blinked, just serving up two not at all small dishes before finally taking his own seat beside Manlove. He noticed that - after a word with his mentor - Billy had taken tow helpings even bigger then his own. And Manlove didn't object, so Shafter guessed the kid was out of Dutch. Good. The boy might have been a step out of line, but he really was too old to be sent to bed without desert.
"Wonderful dinner." Shafter told Billy.
"Thank you, Mr. Shafter." Billy bowed slightly as he reached for the serving platters, stiff as any formal head waiter. He rather looked like one, Shafter decided, standing so straight in his short dinner jacket.
"Thanks," Long answered. "Maria will be happy you enjoyed our local food." He handed his plate to Billy, who began collecting all the dirty dishes back on to the cart.
"If you like fish," Manlove said, handing Billy his own plate, "Dick should take you out to the Marina down in Long Beach sometime. Perhaps as my guest - once this thing is over."
"Thank you, sir, but..." Shafter didn't know what to say. He knew he would always cherish the experiences he had found in LA, but he also knew they were fleeting. Soon the case would be over, and he would go back alone to DC and to a duller life.
"Really. I enjoy your company. " Manlove shrugged off the hesitation. "It would do the lad good to spend more time with real men like you and the doctor - rather then those low newspaper sorts."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Real men. Shafter kept hearing the words as he made his way back to his bedroom. Was he a real man? He had thought he was. He had lived his life doing the things real men do. He had signed up for the Army, knowing that it was tough, but that it offered a future better then the day wages in the tiny town he had been born it. He had worked hard there, and harder afterwards, to get a place in the Agency. Then he had pushed on - a real blue-flame - asking for the assignments no one else wanted to touch. The bad cases. The freaky problems that wouldn't get the headlines - but that would get the approval of the Director.
His mother was proud of him. Was that enough to make him a real man?
He hoped so. He really hoped so. He wanted that. Ever since high school, when he had battered himself hour after hour to make the football team - and sweated even more at night alone denying that he felt more warmth there with his `buddies' then with the cheerleaders giggling on the sidelines.
But he had ignored that - because real jocks dated the prim queens. So he had.
It had gotten better once he had left the Army. In DC there were always women - even if they weren't exactly girlfriend material - and the Agency didn't mind the occasional pro as long as their agents didn't visit any one house too often and didn't get caught.
The sex hand been... nice. If it hadn't been more? Hell, no one expected you to fall in love with a hooker. As for the `girl' girls? He had told himself that he just didn't have time to date. That they would wait until later. Until he was more settled. More secure. Until he knew what he wanted.
Now?
Now he knew what he wanted. Ray or weakness or moral turpitude, the result was the same. He knew what he wanted - and he knew he ought to hate himself for it.
He headed for the shower.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Shafter couldn't stifle the moans as he jacked off in the shower. Not this time. The third time. He was frankly getting sore, but what should have sent him into exhausted - if somewhat humiliated - slumber was instead just intensifying the burning in his backside. So this time, when he came, even biting the washcloth could not entirely soften the cries that echoed off the steamy tiles. That, along with the thunder of water, was undoubtedly why he dint hear the other man until Richard Long actually pulled back the shower curtain.
`Geez!' , Shafter thought, cranking off the water. If Long had seen. Heard. Knew. But he had to have.
Really, Long thought, glancing down at Shafter's just-emptied rod. As he remembered. Delightful. Mouthwatering. But beginning to look a bit red - and not from a good cause. Doesn't the agency teach their men anything about self-preservation? If Shafer kept going at it dry, he could do chafe something.
"Here." Long handed the dripping agent a warm terry towel, then a small tube of cream.
"Thanks." Shafter blushed.
He pretended to ignore the body length blush. He also *appeared* to ignore the way the drops of water were glittering like diamonds among the dark thatch of Shafter's bare chest. And bare groin. Sweet diamonds that would dissolve like sugar candy on his tongue, if only he could lean down and lick...
Long shook himself, catching Shafter's nervous retreat to the far end of the stall. The man was hot, yes, but he wasn't happy with it. And he had been determined to expend his passion here in seclusion rather then seek out the man who would so gladly help him.
Noble. Stupid, but noble. Fortunately for Ash Shafter, Dickie Long's parents hadn't raised him to respect *that* form of self sacrifice.
"Don't lie." Long gave the handsome brunette his most `trust me' smile. Which he meant. Somewhat. At any rate - he really *did* want the man's trust. And Shafter would be better off in the long run if he gave it.
Long let his eyes harden, and dropped his voice down to the don't-bullshit-me range. "You *were* hit by the ray." Taking Shafter by the hand, Long guided him to rest on the towel-padded counter. "Does it...?" He waved at Shafter's white-dotted thighs, letting the question finish itself.
"Burn?" Shafter shivered. "Yes."
"And you've been trying to... treat yourself?" At Shafter's abashed nod, Long pressed. "How often? This is the...?"
"Third time..." Shafter swallowed hard. "I cant keep going on this way... you'll have to drug me - or tie me up... until... I hope...it passes."
Long reached out, allowing his hand to glide over one broad shoulder. Friendly, not threatening. "If that what you want."
Shafer jerked at the touch. "It doesn't matter what I want."
"But it does!" Long's smile grew wider, and this time there was just a touch of cat-in-cream. "The ray works on the subconscious - and until the desire of the mind is satisfied..?"
Shafter looked down, eyes wide with near-horror as he saw his shaft once again starting to swell. He count live the rest of his life in the shower - or walking around with a hard-on that wouldn't stop. But he also could never... he shuddered, unwilling to grant the words even in his own mind.
"Then you might as well shoot me now and put me out of my misery. Because what I want... no way."
Long moved closer. "You can tell me."
Shafter flinched. "Fuck."
"Of course you want to fuck." Long reached up to lift one damp black curl away from Shafter's dark eyes. Eyes that were now threatening to pool with defeated tears. "Do you want me to call Miss Laie?"
"No!"
Long stroked Shafter's cheek. "Amanda would... understand. If she's what you *truly* desire."
"No." Shafter looked down, muffling his voice until Long could barely make out the words. "Not... girl." Not a girl. Not Amanda Laie, beautiful though she undoubtedly was. No woman's face filled his unspeakable dreams. No woman's body had danced before his eyes in that shower. It was not a woman's receptiveness that his traitorous flesh demanded now.
No - Shafter knew what he wanted. What his evil flesh insisted it needed. A need that would cast him finally from this unearned paradise to the punishment he deserved. But... Long was to clever to believe a lie.
Taking a deep breath, be blurted. "It burns. Inside me. Like I'm hollow, and I need. I need... I can't tell you what I need..."
Long leaned forward, taking the shaking man into a warm embrace. "You need to *be* fucked. Fucked by a man. Is that what you're saying?"
The words hit like grenades. Only Long's arms held him upright. "Yes."
Shafter braced himself for the blow - the rejection - but Long only held him tighter. He could feel the man's blond curls brush gently against his cheek as Long asked softly, "Do you want me to call Billy?"
"NO!" The shout echoed around the room, and then there was along silence before Shafter dropped his head and whispered... "You."
The final confession. Now - surely - doom was inevitable.
But instead there was a soft kiss on his forehead and Longs voice in his ear. "You're sure?" Long held the man closer, finally allowing his palms to search over the expanse of olive skin that had tempted his fingers from their first meeting. It was hot. Hot from the shower, and hot from the fever of growing desire. But even so... "I'm much bigger then he is," Long whispered, "And you've never had a man love you before - have you?"
"No!" Shafter gasped, struck by the twin force of Longs words and the fingers tracing his spine. The fingers froze a moment until Shafter continued. "I mean, no, I've never done... that...but..."
Long urged Shafter to his feet, pulling him forward into the welcome of an enveloping embrace. "I'm glad", Long whispered, leaving over to run his tongue along the top of one scarlet ear. "Because I swear I can make this *almost* as good as you deserve it to be."
That was it. What, he could not have said with words, beyond just *IT*. Blind and trusting, Shafter allowed himself to be steered until - somehow - they were both seated on Long's bed.
Now the hands went lower, easing the ice-spikes of tension from Shafter's spine knot by knot, until at some timeless point later he was draped limp and soft over Longs velvet chest. Only his shaft was hard and hot - somehow gaining it's heat from the broad palms that had come to rest warmly on his back cheeks.
"Slowly, now." Long eased Shafter down to the mattress, rolling him so his hips rested on the stacked pillows. Not his favorite position, perhaps, but one of the best for a virgin. And Long suspected that - whatever his inner desires - Shafter was still `straight' enough that this would be easier to accept if he didn't have to watch it as it was happening.
Besides, Long thought, grinning to himself. It didn't matter what this looked like. It matters what it *felt* like. And that - Long was determined - would be best described as wonderful.
Although? Long allowed himself a moment to take in the arching beauty of Shafter's spine. The high muscle of his ass. Perhaps this position would become a favorite, if it would give him the sight of such flawless globes. Paler then the skin on Shafter's chest and arms, as sunbathing was apparently not a eastern sport, but still touched with a rich olive that made Long want to lick the curved smoothness. To run his tongue down that long spine until he reached the shadowed treasure tucked above those dusky curls.
Perhaps later, Long consoled himself. Once this man had learned that every part of his body was created for pleasure. Pleasure given. Pleasure received. But for now?
He eased Shafter's legs apart, reaching through to grasp the swollen shaft.
"Oh..Yes." Shafter groaned, his teeth biting against the sheets. "But..."
"I know," Long answered, giving the hot flesh a gentle rub. "It's not enough."
Long ran a questing finger around the quivering back circle. Ready. As he had expected. The combination of the Pearl and the mornings ointment had left that passage well lubricated. Even so...
"You need this."
Long sent one careful finger inside to seek the pleasure spot.
He found it.
Shafter moaned.
Long stroked him again.
"More!" Shafter cried, stretching his legs as far apart as he could. "In."
Long knelt behind the brunette man, spreading his cheeks and bringing the head of his shaft to rest against the tiny opening.
"This could hurt."
"Don't care... need." Shafter jerked his hips up, blindly seeking the magic of Long's touch.
Fire. That was Shafter's only thought as he felt the massive thickness impale him. Living fire that had come to consume him. To devour him. To burn out the hollow of his body and fill it with itself. Because, the thought madly, how else could so much ... other... find a space inside his body.
Then the spark caught, and he too caught fire. A fire that kindle on that unknown spot that Long had found, and that billowed with every stroke until it claimed his ass, then his legs, then his arms, then at last consumed his whole body.
Fire. Wonderful fire. Fire that burned away all the lies and left him living and pure.
He lifted his ass, welcoming the fire.
He thrust forward, entering the fire.
It lasted forever. Longer then fear. Longer then memory. Long enough that the ending came as a shock.
But he heard Long gasp, and the driving fire turned into a flood within him. Sweet warm fluid, strong as the fire, flooding within him like a balm, Like a blessing.
And then his own flood. Pulled out. Surrendered. Taken - as all of him had been taken - by the man who had claimed him as surely as a conqueror claimed a virgin land.
Shafter gasped a bit as the thickness within him retreated.
Left him.
He was empty.
A place had been opened within him, a place shaped like Richard Long, and now he was leaving and Ashton Shafter would be truly hollow.
He sighed.
"Ash?" Long allowed himself to drop by the other man's side, taking care not to crush him. "Are you..." He stopped. He wasn't quite certain how to finish the sentence. `All right?' `In pain'?
Shafter rolled onto his side, facing Long but *not* facing him. "I'm dead."
Regrets. Long bit his lip. He had half expected as much, but not so severe - or so soon. He blinked back tears. Those would be useless. What then? He ran his hand over Shafter's shoulder, then down the long back, seeking comfort and striving to give it. "You don't look dead." He let his fingers brush the base of Shafter's spine. "You certainly *feel* healthy. I'm a doctor - I know these things."
Shafter rolled back. Away. "I'm not an idiot - you know. I took the agency class on indecent and unnatural acts."
So *that* was it. He sent a wordless curse for the morons at Quantico, and their ignorant immorality. How many good men and women had those so-called `lawmen' driven to crime by their blind refusal to recognize natural law? How many more had they rendered neurotic or hypochondriacal? Well. Long swore - this was one man they would *not* cripple with their bigotry.
But a lecture would only drive Shafter inward - so at least for now Long knew he would do well to keep it light.
he leaned over, kissed Shafter's shoulder, and asked, "Did you pass?"
Shafter blinked, nonplused by the question. "I got an A."
"Good." Long kissed him again, this time moving down to nuzzle the furred chest. "I admire a man with ... education."
What was? He felt Longs lips brush his nipple, as twitched. This was madness. He had to... gather his thoughts and... "The important thing is.."
Long cut off the sentence with two fingers pressed across Shafter's lips. "The important thing is - did it feel good?"
Shafter blinked, thoroughly confused. "Well, yes, but..."
"No buts." Long reached for the blankets, pulling the soft wool over them both as he settled insistently into Shafter's arms. "At least." Richard Long clicked off the lamp, leaving the room charcoal and black in the soft glow of the reflected city. "None but your's - and maybe mine.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
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Chapter 21: Sweet Mystery of Life
"Mademoiselle?" The voice was soft, but still enough to echo in the concrete bareness of the basement office.
Amanda looked up to see the young maid from supper standing in the doorway. She was holding a silver tray, and on it a steaming pot of... could that be chocolate?... and a single cup. "Sorry." She pushed a pile of books and papers aside, making room. "I was..."
Fifi D'Lite set the tray on the small cleared patch. "Mademoiselle is tired. Je' connais." And she did understand - far too well. Especially when the four men had gone upstairs and she had *not* been told to prepare a room for the lady doctor as well. "Les hommes, they have gone about their own business, and left la femme.."
"No." Amanda Laie protested automatically. "It's all right. Really. Richard offered to stay, but...honestly, there's nothing more he can do." She nodded at the closed door to the hospital suite. "O'Doul is sleeping soundly and..."
Fifi stepped closer. "And la bonne femme mademoiselle is not. Sleeping, I mean."
"I will." Amanda blinked a bit, trying to focus back on... which book was it?. She grabbed the one on top. "Soon. It's just been a long day and I can't seem to..."
"Relax?" Fifi pressed against Amanda's back, resting her hands on either shoulder. "I could help la femme relax." She started a slight pressure. Up, then down. Gentle - almost imperceptible - but there.
"Oh!" Amanda gasped. She leaned back, shivering slightly as the tension of the day seemed to vanish under the gentle warmth.
"Vraiment." Fifi purred. "I am good with my hands." As if to prove it, she spread her fingers to stroke the back of Amanda's neck.
Amanda sighed. "Oh - that feels wonderful."
"Come." Fifi said, running her fingers along Amanda's delicate shoulders and down the satin-slick side until she discovered the first of the dresses hidden hooks. She unlatched it, leaving the ice-blue satin to fall like cool water over her fingers. "Let me help you out of this oh-so-formal dress." She popped open another hook, then another.
Amanda gasped a bit as skilled fingers strayed from her hooks to slide down the crease under one breast.
"I can make mademoiselle... so more comfortable."
Amanda grabbed at the busy fingers catching them before Fifi could open a fifth hook. "I can't. Not here."
Catching the kick of silk clad toes below the desk, Fifi bent down to snatch up the spike heeled satin sling-backs before Amanda could put them back on. "Your room is...?"
"Third door." Amanda answered, standing.
"We shall go to your room." Fifi slid the chair back, plucking another hook as she did so. "Mademoiselle will have a cup of chocolate, and I will brush your hair. C'est bon?"
"C'est *very* bon - but I don't think..."
"Belle femme." Fifi snatched up the chocolate pot with one hand, while the steered the blonde doctor towards the indicated door. "I think you think too much."
In Amanda's exhausted state it was the work of seconds to guide her into the nearby bedroom.
Fifi set the chocolate down on the bed table, pouring a cup.
Amanda flopped back onto the day bed. "Heaven." She ran her hands over the quilt.
Hardly, Fifi thought, taking a quick, scornful accounting of the narrow room. Not intolerable, perhaps. It was neatly furnished, if not with all the luxuries of the upper house, but it's subterranean location gave the chamber a shadowed chill that not even the twin floor lamps could completely dispel.
Spotting an electric heater along the wall, she turned it to high. Two seconds, and the spiral wires were bright orange, sending a warm draft over the room. That should help, Fifi acknowledged. There was no sense in getting la belle femme out of one garment if she was then required to wrap her up in another. But with this? Fifi waved her hand across the heated stream. Skin should be comfortable very soon.
With a quick stop at the closet for the extra pillows, Fifi returned to the bed where the blonde doctor was still sprawled. "Here, mademoiselle." Fifi fluffed the pillows into a pile against one end rail. "Rest back."
She did so, and Fifi took advantage of mademoiselle's wiggles to slide off the last of the satin gown.
No underwear? Only round garters to hold up her fine silk stockings? How shocking. How forward. And how delicious! Fifi turned slightly to hide her grin. This would be easier - and sweeter - then she had anticipated. Noting a slight shiver, she picked up the steaming cup and handed it to Amanda. But at least... she let her eyes wander to even more tender flesh.. la belle was indeed natural blonde.
"Sip your chocolate." Fifi purred. "Soon you will feel... warm." As, Fifi thought as she allowed her eyes to wander over the silken curves, would they both.
Fifi untied her apron, tossing the ruffled white lace over the far rail. No need to protect a dress she would not long be wearing.
Amanda hesitated. "Didn't you bring yourself a cup?"
Fifi wrapped her hand around Amanda's, raising the fragile porcelain nearer to the doctors rosebud lips . "Sip."
Amanda did so.
"So sweet, non?" Fifi leaned over, pulling the pins from Amanda's hair and fluffing the golden curls out between her fingers. "You deserve the sweet."
"But..." the blonde doctor hesitated. "I don't feel right. Enjoying this..." She glanced down at the cup. "While you..."
Fifi smiled. "Then perhaps I will have a taste of yours?"
The blonde doctor looked uncertain. "You want to share a cup?"
"If you have no better suggestions." Fifi leaned over, claiming chocolate tinted lips.
There was a brief, shocked, pause. Then the lips opened, offering their treasures to Fifi's questing tongue.
It was a long kiss, and Amanda Laie was panting slightly when Fifi broke away to undo her own dress.
"Oh yes." Fifi whispered. "That is sweet chocolate indeed."
Chapter 22: Dawn of Desire
Amanda Laie would have pulled her back under the covers, but Fifi pulled away. Not harshly, but still - firm.
"I am honore', Mademoiselle, but... I must go." The young French maid reached for her discarded uniform.
The blonde scientist stretched. "Are you certain?"
Fifi sighed, but continued to dress. The white ruffled apron came next, rescued from the floor with a deep bend that revealed that - whatever other parts of her outfit she now wore - apparently the maid had *not* recovered her lost underwear.
The sight was enough to vanish all thoughts of sleep, while simultaneously convincing Amanda Laie that they should definitely stay in bed. To which end?
Amanda flipped back the covers, exposing both breasts and one *very* long leg. The sight was one to make Fifi's mouth water, but... the maid forced herself to look away. Life had made her pragmatic. Business before pleasure, that was the rule. Although for pleasures like last night? Those treats did not come so often for a working girl.
"Bonne cher mademoiselle!" Fifi sighed again - this time with rather more sincerity. "Would I could stay with moi petit chou. But the Monsieur Eric, he will be wanting his breakfast. As will the other homme's. So?" A bend below the bed retrieved her high-heeled black shoes. "And if they are to eat, I must cook."
Reaching out, Amanda ran a single finger up Fifi's bare leg. When she ran out of leg, she teased the tender crease above the thigh. "What about what *I* want to eat."
The finger moved inward.
Fifi gasped.
Amanda drew back her finger, making a show of licking it.
Fifi surrendered.
She dropped onto the bed, tan legs spread to either side of its suddenly smiling resident. "Oh!" Fifi giggled as Amanda's tongue started on the path marked by her finger. "I would never refuse a guest. Especially not so welcome a guest as the mademoiselle."
"Great idea." Amanda leaned forward. "Let's get cooking."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Terrace O'Doul winced a bit as he levered himself out of his bed. Moving was painful, but... his bladder would wait no longer. Stumbling to the bathroom, he staggered over to the commode. *OHsssssss* Christ! That stung! He looked down slowly, half afraid of what he might find. After last night, he wouldn't be surprised if...
*Ahhhh* A sigh of relief. Still there. A bit bruised looking, but still intact.
He ran a hand lower, feeling for his balls. Tender - they felt bruised, and a bit flat - but also still there.
Good enough.
He headed to the sink, splashing a handful of cold water on his face. Shit. He looked like he's been ridden hard and put away wet. Close enough, the part of his mind that was awake enough to laugh added.
A small square of paper caught his eye.
Breakfast at eight? He glanced at his wrist. No watch. The narrow frosted window was no help either.
No matter, He was hungry, but the thought of *walking* up two flights of stairs? Then of *sitting*? Not a chance.
Washing his hands, he headed back to bed.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"No." Long squinted at the dull navy tie that Shafter had unearthed from his suitcase. "Wrong shade."
Shafter watched as the doctor vanished back into his own room. At least, Shafter considered, he *thought* that the other chamber was still `Richard's' room. In the way that he thought - or perhaps hoped - or perhaps was it *feared*? - that the place he stood now was still his room.
He shut his eyes, remembering the exchange of the night before.
After they had... Shafter couldn't complete the sentence. He couldn't *say* that. Not even in his head. It was bad enough that... He shook himself. Well, anyway, after their *discussion*, Shafter had stepped from the bed. He had intended to pick up his robe, but Long had caught his arm first. Not hard. The grip hadn't hurt. Just firmly enough so that Shafter couldn't move further without being... over emphatic.
Shafter shivered slightly, recalling how he had stiffened at that touch. Frozen - like the deer he had once seen in his uncle's headlights. He had been ice. Nearly ice. But where Long's fingers had touched? There he had burned.
His thoughts had gone wild - crying out for him to say something - anything - that would make sense of the inconceivable. But all he had managed was "I have to get back to my room."
Long had held on a moment longer. Just long enough that Shafter had been aware that the other man was *not* moving. And then he let go. Slowly. Perhaps reluctantly?
"If you insist." Long had smiled. Sort of a sad smile. "Although?" Long had sat up on the side of the bed as Shafter had pulled on his robe. "I was hoping that this would *be* your room."
And Shafter had said nothing. What he should have said? What he even wanted to say? What he should say now?
Shafter shivered again. He just *damn* didn't know. Perhaps he should....
However he would have finished that thought was lost as Long bustled back into the room.
"Try this one." Long held a tie up against the front of Shafter's shirt. "Yes, that color brings out the real you."
Shafter looked at the length of aqua silk as if it were a snake. A poisonous snake. "Is that what I am now? Your dolly? Your kept man?"
"Kept! Never!" Long dropped the tie. "Well, I was *hoping* to keep you... in a sense... at least a bit longer... but I know we both have our duties." He reached for the disproved navy strip and handed it over instead.
Shafter knotted it quickly. It felt like sandpaper under his fingers compared to the rejected silk, and it looked like a rag. So? Shafter insisted to himself. At least it was *his* rag. "I can.." he began.
"Take care of yourself?" Long interrupted. " I know that." He leaned forward, brushing his fingers lightly over Shafter's upraised hand. "Yourself, me, this whole house and the entire nation."
"Thanks." Shafter's voice was muted as he stepped away - supposedly to pull on his coat.
Long followed. "You think because I've loved you I don't respect you? I no longer admire you? That I somehow value you *less* then I did before?"
Shafter shuddered. To hear it spoken so. But...? "I wouldn't blame you. For you it's all right. I mean, you were... being a man." He turned to face the blond scientist. "I've heard what the other agents call men who... let other men do that... there."
Long chuckled.
The sound was almost enough to Shafter fleeing the room. Only his equal shock stopped him. He knew he *deserved* such contempt, but...
Long grabbed the FBI agent by both shoulders, pulling him over until they were lip-to-lip. "Ash?" he whispered, breath hot against Shafter's. "That doesn't make you less of a man to me. It makes you *more*." He pulled the other man's hands down to rest on the the lower cheeks. " You need proof? Tonight? You can return the favor."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Billy grinned, looking up through the tented sheets at the handsome length of Eric Manlove sprawled on the pillows above him.
They had both awoken early, caught in the unexpected brightness of the balcony windows, and Sir Eric had kindly permitted `Sweet William' to entertain them both with the proof of just *how* well he had learned certain skills.
*Very* well, Billy thought proudly as he dropped a tender kiss onto the slightest curve of Manlove's iron-trim hip. He had not - before meeting Sir Eric - ever considered himself a `forceful' fellow. More the `mild-mannered' sort of Clark Kent guy. But not now. Knowing he could make a strong man like Eric Manlove moan and wiggle with nothing more then a few stroke of his tongue? Seeing those powerful hands clutch the sheets under no influence more commanding then a light stroke of his teeth over tender flesh? It made Billy feel like Superman.
At Manlove's signal, Billy slid higher, easing his own hardness into his mentor's grip. A single rub of the rough palm over his shaft made him shiver and spill. Really, he thought, Sir Eric was *so* thoughtful. So kind. Billy couldn't imagine how he could ever hope to be happier than he was right now . Unless?
He slid even higher, resting his head on the pillow and turning his back just enough to brush his back cheeks against Manlove's hip.
"Please, Sir?" Billy glanced over his shoulder, hopeful. "Won't you?"
"No Billy," Manlove answered with a kiss. " It's too soon."
"But..." Billy pressed back, brushing one thigh over the warm stirring that insisted that it was *not* too soon according to *all* parts of the famous actor.
"I said no." Eric pushed to boy off. "I may be ready, but you most certainly are *not*!" The older man slid from the bed, holding out his hand for his robe.
Billy scrambled to fetch it, allowing himself one more wishful glimpse of his mentor's shaft. Even recently emptied, as Billy knew it to be, the manly length was impressive. And the wonderfully full balls? Billy couldn't resist trying for another peek.
Manlove caught the look and frowned. "Do not displease me with coquetry, or I shall be forced to correct you again." He pulled on the robe, belting it firmly. "And then it will be even longer before you are ready. Do you want that?"
Billy swallowed - hard. "No, sir. Sorry, sir."
Manlove slid a finger under Billy's chin. "Are you?"
"Yes sir." He blushed, unable to look down, but...? He looked up instead. " Really. sir. I just want to make you happy, and please you, and..."
Manlove smiled. "I understand, Billy." And he did, the actor added mentally. Understood, and even appreciated, the lads desire to offer everything up to his master's pleasure. It was a good attitude, and one to be encouraged - within reason. But not when it lead to presumption and rebelliousness. His pet would have to learn that it was Manlove's place to decree what service the lad would offer, and how, and when, and to whom. And it was Billy's place to welcome those decree's with obedient gratitude.
Releasing his captive, Manlove headed for the bathroom.
Billy followed.
A bit hesitant. true, but totting along. Manlove considered sending the lad away. That would be fit punishment for impudence. Although? Manlove weighed the need for authority against the pleasure of having his back soaped, and decided he could be merciful. Just this once. "Come along lad. Start the water for me."
There. A useful task. After all, Manlove didn't want the little chap to feel completely rejected. "I will have to go out with Dr. Long. He has an idea of how to find the... villains."
"Oh sir." Billy exclaimed automatically, He caught himself, biting his lip until his mentor indicated he could continue. "Wont that be...?"
"Dangerous?" The tone was a rebuke, but a mild one.
Billy nodded, smiling his apologies for his impudent remark and thanks for Manlove's forbearance.
The older man stepped under the rushing water, leaning back into the heat. Perfect temperature. A bit hotter than most could take, but heaven to muscles strained from early years of stunt work. Just like it had been set the morning before, when they had first showered together. Manlove smiled his approval. The boy was learning.
Billy stepped into the stall, gasping a bit at the water struck him. But he did not complain, instead taking the soap and washcloth and kneeling behind the older man to wash the actor's legs.
Really, Manlove thought, the lad *is* trying. And it *is* only his third day. No need to be harsh.
Relenting, he reached back to stroke the boy's red curls. "Sweet of you to fret. But I can handle myself." Manlove turned, allowing the lad to continue his duties on the front. "If all goes well, we should be back home by tonight." He allowed his eyes to wander over the bent expanse of freckled back curved so enticingly below him. He watched the water trickle around the bumps of the spine before vanishing into the lower tightness. Such a beautiful, warm, tightness. Manlove swallowed. Perhaps he had been too hasty this morning?
And Billy was being so good now. Manlove knew that the lad must be dying to raise his lips. To change this service into something more intimate. But he was keeping his eyes on his work, with only the occasional trespass of a fingertip over the side of the washcloth to show his temptation.
Such a sweet pet.
He reached down, bringing Billy to his feet and kissing the lad firmly.
"Be a good lad today, and tonight... Well, I make no promises, but if you are truly ready?"
Billy pressed forward, returning the kiss with interest. "Thank you, sir."
Chapter 23: Shafter Meets A Good Phuq
Following Richard Long's directions, Eric Manlove steered his heavy Cadillac skillfully over the narrow dirt road, stopping only when the rutted track seemingly ended at a shuttered and - to outside observation - long abandoned shack.
"Very impressive."
"It's there." Long reassured Manlove, signaling that the actor should pull the car under the cover of a cluster of scrub pines. "They hired a set designer to do the outside." Long swung open the door. "This way, even when people see the lab - they don't know that it's there."
Ash Shafter allowed Long and Manlove to get out first, hanging back slightly as they hurried over to the seemingly boarded up doorway. Long had informed them over breakfast that they would be meeting with `friends', but Shafter rather suspected that these friends would be more the scientist's sort then his own. Smart, rich college types that would have little time for an grunt law-man. He had met that type before. Not that he usually let it get to him, but... He flexed, trying to shake the new ache out of his back. That was before. He refused to give his memory a word. Just *before*.
It shouldn't change that much. Hell, it *wouldn't* change anything. It *couldn't*. Except. Shafter set out towards the ruined building. He didn't want Long to see him sneered at. He knew it was hopeless, after he had... again, his mind shut the thought off with just `after'... but against all hope he wanted Richard Long's respect.
The creaking outer door opened easily - if noisy - letting them into a hallway cluttered with spider webs and clusters of blown in debris.
"Close the door, will you Ash?" Long called over his shoulder as he rattled the sagging doorknob of an apparently locked door at the other end. "Three right, two left. up and..." The door swung open. "Here we are."
Shafter blinked. At the other side of the apparent ruin was a large room, tile floored and practically blinding in the glow of fluorescent tubes. Scattered about the chamber were long racks of glass and various pieces of laboratory equipment even more elaborate then those he had seen at Longs pace or at the Navy base. At the far end there was an area set up as an office, and in that sections sat two men.
One, surprisingly, he recognized. Dr. Ivan Putzoutski from the Museum. The other was an Asian gentleman, of about the same age. Another scientist, to judge by his white jacket and intelligent eyes.
While Shafter did not know the second man, the same was evidently not true in reverse, for at their arrival the Asian man smiled at Richard Long and asked. "Is this the man you mentioned?"
"Absolutely." Long pulled Shafter forward.
"So." The man gave Shafter the type of slow inspection that Shafter had previously thought reserved for starlets and taxi dancers. "I have to ask. Is he as good as you expected?"
Long grinned. "Better then I could have dreamed."
Shafter was horrified. "You told him..."
"That the FBI had *finally* assigned a special agent to the case?" Long shrugged out of his suit jacket, dropping it on the nearest chair. "Of course. "I called him as soon as I got home that first night." He reached over and picked up a white lab jacket from the wall rack. "He was so worried, and..." Long paused. "Oh - I'm sorry, I should introduce you..."
"Agent Ash Shafter, Special Agent , FBI..." Long held out his hand, palm up.
Dr. Wang smothered a chuckle at the FBI agents ill suppressed anxiety. And at his rather careful posture. So - dear Richard had been rather successful last night. Although, judging from the way the dark man took care to stay just out of casual touch, perhaps not so successful as Richard might have hoped.
Pity, that. Percy's boy had always been a rather sensitive lad. Not weak, but naturally affectionate. He needed someone steady, someone who would return that steadfast passion, and from all Wang had heard this Shafter was such a man. Too bad that he was - apparently - not as swayed by Richard's seduction as he perhaps should be. Still, Dr. Quimm hadn't raised her son to be a selfish lover. Not when Wang had first had the pleasure of knowing the young man, and not now. He would trust that, given a bit more time, Richard could bring Shafter to... appreciate... the many advantages that Richard Long was offering him.
Provided, of course, that there was a later. For any of them.
"My most distinguished college, Dr. Du Phuq Wang," Long continued. " Professor of Bent Physics, California State University."
"Not UCLA?" Shafter asked automatically, holding out his hand.
The older professor took it. "They offered, but I could never pronounce the name." He nodded at Putzoutski, who brought over two more white jackets, handing one first to Manlove, then the other to Shafter.
Stripping off his jacket, Shafter pulled it on quickly. If things were going to get... scientific? This was his last decent suit. And, despite Long's repeated urgings, he did not want to be *forced* to rely on the blond scientist for his clothing. At least not until he was absolutely certain that they were... He forced the image from his mind, focusing on the matter at hand.
"So, Dr... Wang?"
"Yes," Wang took the hat from Shafter's other hand, tossing id accurately onto the hook. "I use the English name order."
"You are part of this project? Along with Dr. Putzoutski?"
"The leader and driving force." It was Ivan Putzoutski who answered. "Since we were both teaching at Oxford. Not that long ago - for all that it seems like a lifetime." He pulled back a chair, indicating that the visitors should make themselves comfortable. "That's where I first came across the Pearls of Anubis. At, of all places, a country house party in Kent. A place called Almeria Hall. It was hosted by this fellow who had made his fortune in African diamonds."
"Oh, yes," Manlove dropped lightly into the best leather chair. "Sayers. I know him." Turning to Shafter, he added. "Man helped me get my rocks off... of Mount Killamanjaro."
"His friend Tommy is quite the driving force in the Ministry. Knows everyone - and everything. So when Sayer invited me to spend a weekend at their place?" The American archeologist shrugged. "I had hoped he would finance a dig in Kenya, but instead? It turns out Mr. Sayer had been part of the Tut expedition, back in his youth, and had brought back a few uncatalogued souvenirs."
"Including the Pearls of Anubis?" Shafter asked. Well, he added mentally, it was *almost* a question. The Agency would have booted any bum who couldn't put the rest of *that* story together. Besides, he had *read* about those British house parties. If you subscribed to any of the movie magazines, you could pretty much read between the lines. When an old lady invited a young student out to the county for the weekend... it wasn't just for a cup of tea.
He could just see this `Tommi' girl - some rattled crone with dyed yellow curls and rouge spotted cheeks - letching over a fresh-faced Ivan Putzoutski. Of course, that must have been several years before, but still? He just hoped that this Sayer fellows old girlfriend hadn't been too rough on the then-young man - or at least that the rewards had been worth it.
"Anyway, he had a fascinating story about their supposedly mystical powers." Putzoutski smiled at Long as the blond scientists took one of the other chairs. "He... loaned me one, and... once the weekend was over? I rushed back to the college to share the discovery with my colleague and roommate." He reached over and gave Wang's shoulder a slight squeeze.
"That would be Dr. Wang?" Shafter asked. Again, not a true question. Even an untrained eye could have spotted the close friendship between he two men. That depth of friendship - more then the big money or the fancy offices - had occasionally saddened Shafter when he had realized that college was not a hope for him.
"Exactly!" Putzoutski answered.
So, Shafter decided, it couldn't have been too bad a trip. Apparently the discovery had at least some fond memories for the two gentlemen. Of course, it could just be the thrill of discovery. Scientist types, he knew, could get very passionate about learning.
Wang picked up the story. "We ran... several experiments. Working late into the night, all summer long, trying to probe the depths of the ancient mysteries." He smiled, his eyes misty with memory. "Ivan had translated an ancient text several years before, but until he spoke with Sayers, he had taken it to be just another legend. Once we knew that the Pearls were real?"
"But it was Wang who made the real breakthrough." Putzoutski waved Shafter into the remaining unclaimed chair, then returned to his own. "He was the one who discovered the orgasmatronic vibrations that gave the Pearls their supposedly mystical power."
"Yes", Wang reached over to pat his colleague lightly on the shoulder. "But it was you, Ivan, who uncovered the map that took us back to The Valley of the Queens." He turned back to Shafter, striking the pose of one about to pull a rabbit from a hat. "There, in a buried temple, in a hidden side chamber, we discovered the Rod of Ra!"
Ivan spun in his chair. "It was a marvelous find - but incomplete. The two accompanying sapphires were missing, taken by tomb raiders back in the time of the Pharaohess Nowfortitties." The older man signed. " I resigned my teaching post and took a position here -at the Museum. In the last few years, I have had this burning need to reerect the Rod."
"If all had gone as planned, you would have succeeded." Wang moved closer, rubbing his friends shoulders to offer comfort.
"But instead, the gangsters snatched your shaft?" Shafter said.
Putzoutski's face fell.
Shafter understood.
Losing something like that was a hard thing for any man to take, and probably even harder for someone like Putzoutski, who had focused so much of his energies into handling his Rod. Not even to mention all the friction that had to be arising between him and Wang - even is they were keeping it well hidden.
"Ripped it clean away." Manlove growled, bring himself back into the conversation. "And now they are after our balls. If they get those?" He shuddered rather theatrically. "Then the whole human race will be forced to bend over for them."
Shafter scanned the company ,taking in Manlove's dramatically worried expression and Long's resolute grimness. So - the actor wasn't just being Hollywood. Which meant.
"Excuse me, gentlemen" Shafter tore his attention away from Long, and back to the two senior scientists. "You are telling me there really *is* a mystical power of this... Rod?"
"Not mystical." Wand answered. "It is purely an unexplained but natural phenomena."
"Natural or unnatural, your telling me this... Rod.. can affect our minds?"
"Minds and bodies - much as the pink ray you have experienced."
This time Shafter shuddered. His one exposure had been... well... He wasn't a liar, so he couldn't quite bring himself to say bad, but it had been most definitely *enough*. And he had seen what repeated exposures had done to poor Patrolman O'Doul. To think of the whole planet so affected? "It's that strong?"
"I fear so." Wang stepped over to the nearest filing cabinet. Bending down, he fumbled through the lowest drawer. This cause the scientist's white lab coat to slide up, uncovering a firm butt sharply molded by the man's thin cotton trousers. Quite a firm butt for a man his age. And such long, muscular legs.
Shafter forced his eyes away. What was *wrong* with him! He would never have stared so before. Never have considered another man's anatomy. Never have *wanted* to contemplate how trim and athletic another man's body was.
God knows he had spent enough time in the Gym back in DC, and he'd never allowed his eyes to linger like that. Well - he again had to be honest - hardly ever.
If this was the result of... last night... then no wonder the Agency warned it's officers against such perversion. If it was the pink ray?
Shafter shuddered again.
Wang straightened, removing temptation. Thankfully.
Two seconds later the Asian scientist was standing in front of Shafter, holding out a faintly glowing blue sphere.
"Here." He pressed the orb into Shafter's palm. "Rub your fingers over this. Just lightly, mind you. What do you feel?"
"Heavens." Shafter gasped. Not swearing. Heaven was the only word. The guilty ache that had haunted his back side was... gone... replaced by a sparkling sort of warmth. He rubbed the orb again. Indeed, his whole body seemed lighter, filled with a sense of ease. Of well being.
Shafter looked at Wang. "It ... heals?"
"Heals, invigorates, restores." Ivan Putzoutski answered for his friend. " The ancient Egyptians considered these balls the repositories of the lands virility. In the age of Ahmanhotstuff, the Rod of Ra and its balls were attended by a troupe of sacred virgins - male and female - who spent their days stroking the gems."
Manlove chuckled at the image. "Kept the Divine Osiris in a good mood, I gather?"
"Osiris or someone." Shafter rubbed the orb again, bringing forth another wave of warmth. "I can see where it would do that."
"In the reign of Wankenoffen, the Pharaoh transferred the shaft to his own keeping. The balls were separated, one to the upper and one to the lower kingdom."
Manlove raised one eyebrow."Sounds painful."
"It was." Putzoutski answered the actor, his voice serious. " Famine and civil war followed. Under his successor, Humpenoffen, the sacred balls were reunited, and his second son - prince Bendenoffen - was named Receptor of the Shaft.
"A stiff responsibility."
Putzoutski accepted the remark without debate. "It was in this period that the Pearls were created. There are various stories about that, but they were definitely linked to the Orbs, although they were dedicated to Anubis."
"Perhaps as the God of le petit mort?"
That remark got ignored, Putzoutski was on a roll. "Unfortunately, when Prince Nohmowankin invaded the treasures of the Amanhottstuff Dynasty were lost for good."
OK. Shafter though, giving the ball another squeeze. He had followed that. "Until you found them... and brought them to the USA."
Putzoutski nodded. "Where, I had hoped, the Rod of Ra would once again rise from it's balls."
"But instead, thieves grabbed your shaft. Then they grabbed Manlove's one ball."
"Please!" Manlove sounded slightly offended. It is *not* my only ball. I have several sets."
Richard Long looked over at the actor. "None other that works like this, I hope."
"Not in the gem cabinet."
Shafter ignored the chatter, focusing on Wang. "Then they went for this one."
"Sad, but true." Wang reached for the sapphire orb.
Shafter, with some reluctance, surrendered it.
Wand stroked the ball affectionately. "They almost had their hands on this. If I had not fallen ill, and so been delayed in my return to the base?"
Ivan Putzoutski leaned forward, holding out his hand for the ball. "Fortunately, I saw that my good friend Wang was... exhausted from his work. I insisted that he stay overnight with me."
Wang passed over the glowing gem, closing his hand over Putzoutski's as he did so. "And you made me feel much better."
Well yes, Shafter decided. The gem would have that effect - even for normal men. He could see how both of the scientists seemed somehow happier, more alive, while their hands were together over the Orb. If only that power could be turned to the good. Unfortunately it seemed that for every moment of progress science made, some villain was determined to twist the benefits To pervert then into something destructive. And for this discovery? He could trust men like Putzoutski and Wang. There were scholars and scientist. Men who were above vulgar personal interests. And Long he would trust with his life - worthless though that might be. Even Manlove, for all his wicked tongue and his harsh reputation, had proved to be a standup fellow. But beyond this room? Given the influence of the Orbs, he wasn't sure he could trust even the Director to stay straight. "But now we have a gang of crooks on our asses."
"It is worse then that, gentlemen." Wang let go of the gem, and started for the far end of the room. "I fear these gangsters are no ordinary thieves. How could they be, with the weapons they possess. No gentlemen." He paused, giving his words still greater force. " These are the servants of alien invaders from outer space. Alien's who's goal is nothing less then the complete domination of the earth."
"Well, we sure aren't going to roll over for them!" Shafter could feel his body stiffen at those words. "There must be a defense!"
"The hope of one." Ivan Putzoutski pushed forward a chair, urging Shafter to sit.
Wang pressed a button, causing a white screen to unroll from the ceiling. "I have devised a tracing device that should detect the orgasmatronic vibrational fields. If the ray - or any similar technologies - are being used, we should be able track them."
"And once we know where they are?" Shafter asked. While location the villains was a good first step - it was not enough. Not while he and Long alone had any resistance to the overpowering rays.
"That is the harder part." Wang through a switch, plunging the room into near darkness. "If you will focus your attention on the screen, gentlemen? I have some demonstrations to go over with you."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Fifi D'Lite looked over the long table, sighing as she took in the expanse of dirty dishes. All her's, she decided, since Maria had been given he day off.
Of the four that remained back at Long's house, only three had actually answered Fifi's summons when she had finally gotten around to announcing breakfast.
O'Doul had only moaned when she had announced the option of pancakes and eggs. When she had tried to insist he had reluctantly risen from his bed, but only long enough to push her *out* of the room. Then he had locked the door behind her.
So - she had decided - let him starve.
Amanda Laie had been eager to welcome her back - although breakfast had been a secondary option to what the blonde scientist truly had in mind for the morning. But - when Fifi- remained firm - Amanda had yielded. So the gone off to shower alone with the promise to hunt down young Billy when she was done.
As it turned out, the promise was unneeded. Billy was in the kitchen hunting for cereal and coffee when she had arrived. Bon! She started a pot, and sent him back upstairs to round up the other men.
It had been a hurried breakfast, for all that the men were most kind to Fifi's cooking, and with her duties in the kitchen she had no chance to join the company. Again, bon. An absent master was a good. Generally. Except? Manlove, Long, and Shafter had been out the door before she could ask if she should stay the day.
C'est la vie, Fifi decided. But if they had given no orders? She rather thought she would prefer to stay here. She could watch Monsieur's new pet, so that he did not stray and displease Sir Eric, and she could perhaps aid la belle Amanda with her so-important work.
But that would be for later. For now? La belle Amanda had been sent to the patio to finish her coffee before Fifi would let the too-serious blond return once again to the lab. Billy she had sent also, with orders to see that la belle *did* rest a bit.
Dr. Amanda was dedicated. A good thing, yes. But one that could be carried to far. Especially for rude men that would not come to breakfast. So La femme could finish her coffee, and le homme O'Doul could just sleep while she did.
That decided, Fifi loaded up her cart and headed back to the kitchen.
She was washing up the dishes, casually considering what would be best for lunch, when the kitchen door burst open.
"Hold it, sister!" A battered looking man in a cheep brown suit stood just inside the doorway.
"Les hommes," Fifi gasped. "It is..."
The gangster pushed past her. "Where's the science guys?"
"Le Doctor Long?" She tried to slide out towards the door, only to be stopped by a second thug coming in. "But he is... away."
The boss gangster growled. "Look for him! I'll stay and talk to the lady here."
"I do not know. I swear." Fifi tried to pull away, only to be pulled back by his grip on her arm. "I am only the maid. Why would they tell me..?"
"Pretty bird like you?" The taller gangster grinned unpleasantly, running his hand up her bare leg and stroking over her private curls. "I bet you take care of the old man real good? How'd you like...."
She was about to scream - whatever the risk - when the shorter gangster called back. "No dice, boss." He stepped back into the kitchen, pushing Amanda Laie and Billy in front of him. "House is empty, except for two dames and a kid."
The boss gangster stepped back. "You searched the whole place? You are sure?"
"Went in every room." The shorter gangster waved a bottle of whisky, perhaps as proof of his through search."Every damn one, `cept for some locked storerooms in the basement. Couldn't get in there, but I banged on the door. Nuttin' If was any one in there, he'd hafta be dead not to hear me." The brown suited thug waved his strange gun at the three captives. " What we gonna do boss. I don't wanna go back and..."
"No!" The taller gangster practically shouted. " No, we can not tell Farttoz that we have failed ...again. But...." He slid his greasy gaze from Fifi to the others, and a wicked leer twisted his features. "If we can not bring the scientists to Farttoz, we can perhaps make them bring themselves."
He pushed Fifi over towards the smaller man. "Take these three to the car. I'll leave a note for our scientist friends. And sister?" The gangster gave Fifi a look that made her shudder. "You better hope that this Long fellow figures good help is hard to get."
Chapter 24: Captive of the Space Men!
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
A delegation of heavily armed aliens greeted the car as soon as it pulled to a stop inside the main cavern.
Erros stepped forward. "Where is my ball!"
"Sorry, boss." The taller gangster cringed. "Long wasn't in."
"You have failed me again?"
"No!" The gangster fell back, hands raised in supplication. "No boss - we got another plan. A great plan. Please, boss..."
Erros considered the cringing form. It would be a pleasure to punish this man. He had not had the chance to handle matters personally before - busy as he was with the other earthling - but if the earth creature did not have the ball? Clearly he would have to *take* the time, as his underlings had failed to make sufficiently clear the regrettable outcome of failure.
Strange - he would have thought that four Spacemen he had assigned to that duty would have been more then sufficient to ... drive the point home. Perhaps the earthlings were tougher then he had supposed. Certainly the one he had chosen to punish himself had surprised him. It would be interesting to test the second creatures stamina.
Still - the mission was of primary importance. Especially if he did not want to face his own punishment in turn.
Glaring at he earthling, just so the man would know he was in displeasure, he said. "You may speak."
"The Long fellow was gone, but we got some of his people." The taller gangster waved at his companion, who began dragging the bound captives out of the back of the car. "See?" The taller gangster grabbed the first prisoner, who happened to be Fifi D'Lite, and held her before him like a shield. "We got three of them. The maid and two guests. And we left a note, telling Long to bring the ball."
"You betrayed out headquarters!" Erros pushed the woman aside, slapping the gangster. "You shall suffer..."
"No boss." The gangster fell back. "I never told him *where* to bring it. Just for Long to get it, then stay by the phone. Like with a kidnapping." He turned to the other gangster. "Tell him!"
"Like he said. It's a good plan." The shorter man pulled Amanda Laie out of the car, taking a swift grope before pushing her over to land beside Fifi. " We got something Long will want."
The first gangster continued nervously. "We left the driver to watch the place. When he see's Long drive up, he'll go down to the corner and call us. We call Long - before he can get to the cops to set up a tap - and let him talk to one of the girls." He waved generally at the two women on the floor beside him. "Just so he knows we ain't talking bull. Then we tell him to get the ball and where to go. Some park. Or wherever. When he goes there - we snatch him."
"Trust us." The second gangster called back his support over his shoulder as he went back to the car for Billy."We can do it quick and quiet."
"Then we give the Long a tour of LA - just to shake off any tails - before we bring him in."
"So ya see?" The gangster pushed Billy to his knees just before the alien leader. "We ain't stopped. Just - delayed a bit, that's all."
Erros consider that. On the ship any deviation from a decreed plan would be punished - but a field operative must be granter some discretion. He surveyed the creature in front of him carefully. It was not... unattractive. If the creature belonged to this Long? Certainly it was likely that Long would wish to regain such pleasing property.
He considered the other two. Less to his taste, but also handsome creature. Perhaps one could be sent to Farttoz if the senior officer grew too demanding. That might buy Erros a day or two.
Plus? He considered his nervous servants. It was always possible that the plan would work.
"Very well." he growled, letting the two know that punishment was more likely delayed then denied. "I will forgive your failure - for now."
After all, his pleasure would be only temporally deferred. Even if the ball was recovered, he could find some excuse to punish the earthlings. A creative officer could always find a reason for punishment.
"Commander." A voice at his left shoulder interrupted his musings.
"Yes, Spaceman Tanna?"
"Sir." She came to full attention. "A favor?"
That surprised Erros. It was not like Spaceman Tanna to ask in public unless she knew it was a boon he would easily grant. No doubt this was some safe request. He considered that. She had been a loyal officer. Plus - he did need her enthusiastic support for at least a brief while longer. It might be wise to show the crew his generosity as well as his mercy.
"What is your desire?" he asked.
"You have three captives." Tanna pointed to the bound earthlings. " Only one will be required to... persuade this Richard Long."
Erros raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
"I must test the new calibrations of my Orgasmatronic Induction Unit." She dropped her voice, careful that only Erros could hear. "Since Fleet Commander Forts will not permit another field test
until we have persuasive results.?"
Erros smiled, suddenly understanding. "You wish to use these?" He scanned the two females. They were not perhaps entirely to his taste, but the two blondes very much reminded him of some of Spaceman Tanna's previous body servants. No doubt Tanna planned to pick the subject as much to amuse herself as to advance her knowledge, but Erros could hardly object. That was the privilege given to success.
He considered the question. Fart-off Farttoz could only use one - and that poorly. At least if Erros's recent experience was anything to go by. And the senior officer had not even demanded one yet. And the needs of the mission *did* come first.
"Very well," he granted. "You may have one. That will leave one to speak to the earthling and one ... spare." The earthling could speak to whichever female was left - and Erros could commandeer the young red-haired specimen to conduct some field research of his own.
Tanna knelt down beside Amanda Laie, popping open the buttons on her blouse and running an open palm over the fullness of her breast. "This one seems - healthy." Producing a blade, she sliced through the center of the lacy bra, exposing two pink nipples to open view. "I will begin with her."
"Please." Amanda Laie gasped, shivering at he cold touch. "No."
"No!" Billy through himself at the alien woman, forcing her back.
Unfortunately, bound as he was he could do little more. Within seconds the alien guards had grabbed him and pulled him up to stand before the outraged Tanna.
She slapped Billy - hard. hard enough to send the back of his head snapping against the armored chest behind him. "You would defend this creature?" Tanna hissed. "Is it your mate?"
"No," Billy stuttered, forcing himself to meet the alien scientist's eyes. "But... but... she's a nice lady. Leave her alone."
"Such spirit." Tanna ran her nails over the emerging bruise on Billy's cheek. " "Very well, I shall use you instead." She turned to the guards. "Take him too my lab."
Erros considered refusing her. He had expected to loose only one of the duller creatures - not the pretty one. No. Let her have the earth boy - for now. The test in question would not kill him. And after a day or two at Tanna absent mercy? Perhaps the pleasing young earthling would even be grateful for a chance at less draining service.
Chapter 25: Hard Times for Billy
"Ahhhh." That was the only sound that could escape the muffling of the hard ball gag that the aliens had forced between his battered lips.
Billy twisted, writhing against the smooth stone slab. Sharp metal cut into his bare wrists and ankles as he struggled to somehow - anyhow - escape the strange device that tormented him.
Useless. The chains which held him spread out upon this altar to unholy science would not yield.
He had known as much as soon as he had heard the harsh orders of the alien commander and seen the cruel leers on the faces of the space-soldiers who had rushed to obey. Tall and strong, four of them had grabbed his arms and legs and carried him bodily away from his friends and into this shadowed chamber filled with strange and dangerous looking machinery.
He had fought, but the alien soldiers has locked the shining manacles around his limbs. An unseen motor had drawn out the chains, stretching him taut so he could not move even an inch when the glowing light had burned though his new clothing.
Shards of cloth were somehow burned away by the slicing light. First his jacket and shirt, then his shoes and the legs of his pants, until the dancing rods of light had met at his waist. His belt had resisted for a moment, but once one of the soldiers had reached down to pull out the half-molten buckle that defense too was vanquished.
That he had stayed silent through - his fear of being a coward greater then the fear itself - until the knife-like light had moved between his legs.
"Take it all," the lady space scientist had ordered.
At the scent of scorching hair and the sudden feel of something like a hot wire slicing across his most sensitive flesh... well, Billy couldn't help it. Without even thinking - he had screamed.
The Tanna woman had laughed, then, running her hands over his chest and down his legs before cupping his balls. "Nice and full - for now."
The alien soldiers had laughed.
That was when the real fear had started.
She had clamped some alien device around his shaft. It was huge and sliver, linked by long rubber tubes to the bank of arcane machines that lined the laboratory, and with every blink of the red light it sucked again and again at his captive cock. He had wanted to ignore it. Wanted to be strong. Wanted to hold out against this obscene torture. But - the sensation was... well, it was *that* sensation. Against his will his rod had thickened and filled, and against his will he had emptied himself into the unrelenting suction.
A first time - and then a second. The machine was without mercy, keeping its demanding rhythm without regard for the sensitivities that now made his enforced erections more pain then pleasure. By the third time his seed had been drawn by the alien device it had drawn his screams as well.
Perhaps, Billy thought as he blinked back stinging tears, he should be grateful for the gag. He knew that if he could have spoken he would have been begging for mercy. Not that he had any hopes of humanity at these inhuman hands.
He bucked involuntarily into the rubber-coated tube. The fourth time. It was taking longer -and he was getting weaker. If this kept on...
The Tanna woman came back, running her cold hands over his sweat-dampened forehead.
He tried to turn away.
"Still fighting it?" She forced his face back with one hand, while with the other she tweaked one chill-tightened nipple. "One might think you weren't enjoying our... quest for knowledge." Without taking her hands from Billy, she looked over at one of the soldiers. "Another ten voltons."
The alien turned a knob.
The suction at his cock intensified.
"Aaaahhhhhh!!"
Billy came again - hard enough to lose consciousness.
When the grayness cleared, Tanna was smiling. It was not a pleasant smile. The machine that had so milked him was gone, and the alien woman was rubbing one palm over his now hairless groin while the other brushed over his quivering shoulder muscles .
The chains were looser now, and he tried to pull away from the invading touch.
"Interesting. The creature is... quite resilient." She gave his nipple another sudden twist. "Perhaps we should move on to the next experiment." Beckoning over two of the watching alien soldiers, she barked a command. " Turn him over."
They did so, never once unlocking the chains.
Again Billy tried to fight, and again it was useless. More now than ever, for the stress on his limbs made the brief `freedom' a cramping agony. Within seconds he was again drawn flat across the icy stone. Now, though, Billy thought with growing despair, it was even worse. He hadn't thought matters could be but... no he couldn't even see what was going on. He could only wait - spread and vulnerable - shuddering as his imagination brought up image after image of the torments yet to come.
"Raise his hips", he heard the alien lady order.
The soldiers did so, cranking the table until a section of the stone rose up against his abdomen. It stretched him yet more tightly, drawing his already taunt limbs into painful extension. Worse than that, the tension had twisted him so his ass cheeks were widely parted, while his abused cock and balls dangled without support below him. In this obscene display, no fragment of his body was sheltered from the invaders eyes - or hands.
More, the gag was now strangling him, cutting off the air from longs limited by the weight of his own body. Black spots swilled across his dimming vision. Perhaps this was it, Billy thought, And perhaps it was for the best. If he died here? Died now? He would miss no one, except his beloved Manlove, and he knew that no one beyond that one man would truly miss him. Better far to die here - die before he was truly broken - and retain his idols respect then to prove a weakling a forfeit the regard he had so briefly reveled in. Easier to die than to live with the memory of what he had lost.
He clenched his eyes, resigning himself with only a brief prayer that somehow - however it might be - the two girls might yet be saved. And another - even briefer - that somehow Manlove might know his young admirer had - at the end - taken it like a man.
The world was almost gone when one of the aliens pulled out the gag.
"Erotic asphyxiation? It is not time for that. Not yet." Tanna ran a harsh finger down his crack, probing roughly into the still sensitive passage. "Bring down the Phallotropic Probe."
Billy heard the creaking of pulleys as some alien instrument was settled against his back cheeks.
"What are you going to do to me?" The words were drawn from Billy before he even knew he had spoken.
"Whatever I want." The space-woman's voice was harsh. "You earth animals must learn that. As you must learn your place in the service of the Great Leader." Her voice moved away briefly, moving towards the wall of equipment. "Prepare the Secretional Interjector."
"Length and width?" A more masculine voice came in reply.
"Sixteen gortons to begin with. Four around." Tanna's words crew clearer as she moved back towards the table. "Increase the unit by one each time until until we have achieved maximum."
Large masculine hands spread his rear cheeks, trickling a cold fluid around his yet-swollen back opening. "Relax, creature." The voice grew quiet. "If you cooperate, this does not have to hurt."
Tanna laughed. "At least - not at first."
Billy tried to squirm away as he felt the chill touch of a thin metal probe slide up his back channel. It was very small, but very long, and for a moment he thought he would be skewered by the length. But - just when he truly feared it would wound him, the probe eased back and began to vibrate. Slowly pulsing, the narrow probe pumped again and again into his depths.
"Please". Billy moaned. "I cant...."
"You have no choice." The calm make voice answered. "You have only the choice to try and find pleasure while you can, or resist and suffer more pain than is inevitable.
Billy shuddered as the probe grew slowly wider, pressing against the special nerve bundle that Manlove had so recently revealed to him. Against his will, indeed against his belief, Billy felt himself harden.
"Please." Billy craned his neck, looking desperately for mercy in the space-ladies onyx eyes. "I promised my..."
She cut him off. "The promises of an animal are not significant."
"Please".
She ignored him. "Increase the probe speed."
The probe grew wider, stretching him now. He couldn't resist bucking towards it. A blush of shame burned in his cheeks. It was not that he *liked* the the thickening heat that thrust again and again into the deepest parts of his body. Not that he *wanted* to be the toy of these aliens and their evil machines. He did not - would not - could not betray his love that way. His body belonged to Sir Eric, along with his heart and soul, and only Sir Eric had the right to take or give its pleasures. Billy knew that. He *believed* that. But even so - the constant pulse that throbbed against his sensitized prostrate and sent waves of living lightening into his already tapped balls.
"Nooo. Oh no." Billy whimpered. "Ohhh Ohhh Ohhhhhhhh"
A pulse of electricity along his moist passage drew forth yet another painful wave of pleasure.
"Excellent." Tanna's voice was as cold as her heart.
"Is it?" A deeper voice, just as harsh, echoed in the chill chamber.
Billy could hear the clack of uniformed bodies snapping to attention.
"Hail Erros!"
"Hail Tanna." The deep voice drew nearer, and Billy felt one heavy hand descend on his back. "Is this your experiment?"
"I have finished the reading on the Protid Volume Extractor." Tanna's voice came from just past Billy's other shoulder. "Now we are testing the Secretional Interjector."
"What results have you achieved so far?"
"Success, Force Commander." Tanna's voice settled into a tone of self-congratulation. "The creature's fluids are non-toxic, and the natural entrance is sufficient to accept even the largest zoff."
"Uhh." Billy cried again as the invading machine was pulled roughly back from his depths. "Please..."
"Silence, creature." Tanna hissed. Turning to a Spaceman, she ordered, "Gag him again!"
A thick wad of... something... was shoved into Billy's mouth. Not as large or hard as the earlier ball, but sufficient.
Then, speaking to her leader, Tanna continued. "There is still some mental resistance, but I am sure we can break the creatures to their proper obedience." She ran her hands under Billy's body, cruelly gripping his now flaccid shaft. "With enough further work."
"You have done well. "Erros moved his hands lower, pressing one thick finger tip into the abused opening. "That capacity should prove useful for relieving the troops once we have occupied this planet."
"Thank you, Erros. I live to serve."
There was another click of machinery. That was all the warning Billy had before the metal probe was thrust once more into his abused rectum.
"Uhhhhh" He screamed, laboring helplessly against his gag.
Tanna ignored that. "We are increasing the dimensions incrementally, trying to determine the maximum receptive capacity. The natural passage is surprisingly flexible. Perhaps this species can accept the full fifty gortons of a grown Porrph."
"If not?" Erros's fingers tightened painfully on Billy tender ass cheek. "That will destroy this specimen."
Tanna flipped a switch by Billy's head, and the now-painful thrusting began again. "There are always more."
Erros considered that. Spaceman Tanna's words were true. The planet was full of creatures who, once his victory was complete, would all be his for the taking. But? He considered again. That would be then - while this attractive creature was here now. He ran a hand down the pale channel of the exposed back. Tanna had marked it, but the pink and hairless flesh was somehow strangely more attractive rather then less. The softness of the exhausted muscles was... pleasant. The way the young earthling's hips shifted at the stroke of the metal rod was... intriguing. Altogether? The creature was still most desirable.
Stepping back, Erros smiled. Perhaps he would have his receptive servants prepare this way often if the results were this pleasing.
"As you say. But" Erros flipped the switch back off. "We have no time for your experiments now. I require your presence in the command chamber."
There was an almost imperceptible pause before Tanna answered. "I obey."
"Ahhhhh." Billy moaned as the probe was once again drawn from his body.
"Put the earth creature in the cells for now." Erros ordered. " Later I may want to inspect the... results... for myself."
Chapter 26: Rings
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Shafter shifted uncomfortably in the plastic-covered seat. Something in the lab had flared a sympathetic response in the protective pearl he still wore, and the renewed sensation was having a regrettably visible effect on his... composure.
What was more, Shafter was...well, he wasn't certain if the word was nervous or bored. He was beginning to suspect he was out of his depth.
Long and the two older doctors had veered of into what the FBI agent thought of as `science-talk'. Manlove had seemingly given up on following them, pulling out a script and only occasionally looking up to add some possibly relevant remark. At least - his remarks sounded like they were relevant. And Dr. Wang usually nodded his head. So maybe the Englishman did understand what the `doctors' were yammering about. Maybe.
Richard Long had his notebook out. Asking questions. Taking notes. Writing down long equations full of squiggles that weren't any numbers Shafter's high school business math class had ever covered.
Occasionally the young doctor would send a sentence or two Shafter's way. Usually it was made up at least half of words that the FBI agent wanted to check out in a dictionary. Still, he considered, that was better then it could be. At least Long didn't feel the need to talk down to him. So maybe he hadn't totally lost the other man's respect last night.
Not that he didn't deserve to. Lose any respect Long might have had, that is. Crying like a baby. Then offering himself like the lowest dock-side whore. No. Lower. Even a whore wouldn't *ask* someone to do what Shafter had asked - even begged - Long to do to him.
Not that what some California book-worm thought should have mattered. Shafter had always been the type to face to to what he was - for good or ill. Do what was right and devil take the hindmost. But now for some reason Long's opinion mattered more then ... well, more then even the Director's. Which was heresy, but... Shafter shifted again in his chair. That was the way things were.
He turned his attention back to the conversation. Shafter thought he was still following it - barely - when the phone rang.
Wang answered the phone, then handed the handset to his companion. "It's the Museum."
Putzoutski listened for a moment, then passed the phone over to Long. "It's a trunk call - for you."
"Yes?" Long took the phone with one hand, still sketching out some fantastic equation with the other. "What!" the pencil dropped. "They what?" Long stood abruptly. The note pad followed. "You found what!"
There was a long semi-silence, punctuated only by the barely heard voice coming over the line. A voice which, even with the words muffled, clearly hung on the point of hysteria. "No, O'Doul. Not the cops. Not the Army either." Long began pacing. Short steps, hampered by the needs of his electrical tether. "Go upstairs. Don't open the curtains. I don't want anyone to know you're in the house. Look out the bathroom windows. Then come back and tell me what you see. I bet they have someone watching the front door."
Clasping his hand over the speaker, Long turned back to the room. "The gangsters hit the house. They took the girls."
"Amanda?" Dr. Putzoutski asked.
Long nodded. "And Miss D'Lite."
"And..." Manlove stood suddenly, script fluttering forgotten to the floor. "My Billy?"
"O'Doul?" Long turned his attention back to the phone. "There is? Only one?" Long listened a bit longer. "OK. You keep an eye on the rat. I'll send someone from this end to take him out." Long waved off Putzoutski, who was gesturing frantically at a gray metal box Shafter could identify as a military radio set. "Until then - lie low. The gangsters might have a radio-phone, and if their lookout sees you they might know we are on to them." Another, far shorter pause, then Long continued. "Good. Just don't open the door to anyone who isn't wearing a Navy uniform."
Manlove growled. "They took my Billy?"
Putzoutski was standing by the radio. "I'm sorry..." he began.
Manlove reached into his jacket and took out his card case. "Not as sorry as those bastards will be if they've laid even one finger on my boy!"
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Patrolman Darryl Francis O'Doul peered through the slats of the bathroom blinds as the flash suited gangster paced the block and a half between Long's house and the Alta-Dena on the far corner. A Nervous Nellie, O'Doul thought. Didn't want to lose sight of the house, but also didn't want to move too far from the pay phones. And he definitely didn't want to attract police attention.
Punk probably thought he was being discrete, leaning back on the lamp-post and sucking his fag, but the cop side of O'Doul could read the tension in the man's body. Not to mention that the zoot suit stood out in this neighborhood like a bible preacher at the Maya.
O'Doul was so focused on the gangster that the almost missed the dark car that pulled up silently behind the man.
A swinging car door. A flash of metal. Suddenly the gangster was falling, knocked unconscious by a cosh to the head. The car door closed with the gangster inside. Then the car drove off.
The man left behind straightened his uniform and headed up the walk.
Sixty seconds later he was standing in the doorway, holding his Navy credentials out for O'Doul's inspection.
"Come in, Admiral. Sir." O'Doul struggled to keep his voice steady as he tried to remember whether he was expected to salute. He had been Army - not Navy. And what little instruction boot camp had given about the other forces sure hadn't included how to entertain a Rear Admiral while wrapped in pajama bottom's and a borrowed dressing gown.
"Thank you." Admiral Shaggemal stepped in, locking the door behind him. "You are O'Doul, right?"
"Right, sir." O'Doul felt his spine straighten involuntarily. He wasn't *that* long out of the service, and in his sharply tailored whites the figure before him was the stuff of recruiting poster fantasies. "Anything I can get you?"
O'Doul wanted to blush as the older officer's look stripped him naked. "Not my house, and all that, but if there's anything I can give you?"
The Admiral gave him slow, knowing smile. "Perhaps."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Ash Shafter struggled to keep the worry off his face as he watched Richard Long pace the length of the lab. The scientist's expression was blank, but his eyes shifted to the still-silent radio with each pass. "No word from Navy." Long addressed no one in particular. "The crook they caught doesn't know where the hideout is."
Shafter didn't like the sound of that. "Maybe he's just hanging tough?"
"No chance." Manlove smiled. Not a cinema smile. "You haven't been here long enough to know the LA guys. If this chump knew, he'd sing."
Long answered the smile, but his wasn't any happier then Manlove's. "We're out of time. I have to go."
"You can't." Manlove held up his hands. "You don't dare. Not from what you've told us today. If they get their hands on the last Orb..." The blue-eyed man shuddered dramatically. No need to complete that thought.
"But they won't." A sly grin spread slowly over Richard Long's handsome features. "They'll only think they did. Dr. Wang?"
All eyes turned to the Asian gentleman. "As you know," Wang said as he stepped over to the row of lab cabinets, "I have been working on the Orb for several years and..." Reaching into a low drawer, he pulled out a small metal box.
Wang passed it to Long, who unlatched it and threw back the lid. A blue stone slightly larger then a golf ball rested inside.
Eric Manlove leaned over, peering intently at the glowing blue orb. "Is that...?"
"No." Wang shook his head. "You had one of the true Orbs. This is merely a copy."
"A nearly perfect copy." Long added.
Manlove stepped back, "Still, if they can use it to..."
"I said *nearly* perfect." Long picked up the ball, rolling it though his fingers. At each contact the orbs glow began to pulse. Not bright, but visible. Shafter could feel each pulse reflected in the smaller pearl he wore. If this was a fake, it was a damn convincing fake. "There are certain very... significant... difference."
"Unfortunately." Wang held out his hand for the Orb. "Or should I now say fortunately, given the situation we find ourselves in." The senior scientist pulled over a tangled mechanism of wires and tubes and clamped the Orb onto the top of it. "The differences should be undetectable to any known instrument, but once connected to the strong orgasmatronic vibration?" Wang threw his hands up in the classic `kabluuie' gesture.
"But" Putzoutski stepped forward now, looking nervous. "If these criminals discover the substitution..."
"Even if they don't." Shafter halted Long with a hand to his shoulder. "Once they think they have the Orb, they will kill you!"
"Not quickly... I suspect." Long laid his hand over Shafter's. "They will want to interrogate me. To find out how much we know, what we are working on. I suspect they will take me back to wherever they are based." His fingers tightened suddenly, pulling Shafter's palm down over his lapels. "Plant a tracer. You can follow me."
Putzoutski shook his head. "If they are alert, they will catch a radio wave."
Long shrugged. "Then you will have to trace the emissions - using Dr. Wang's other new invention."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
The next few minutes were a flurry of sudden industry. Putzoutski was `charging' the fake Orb, Wang was weaving a quarter-sized radio transmitter into the lining of Long's jacket, and Manlove was holding the sort of no-words-on-this-end conversation that guaranteed Shafter would have the fastest car in LA for the coming chase.
Only Ash Shafter - the man supposedly in charge of this investigation - was at loose ends.
"Richard." Ash Shafter waited for a break in the young scientists work, and used it to draw him into the privacy of the hall. "Don't go."
"I have to."
Shafter shook his head. "Someone has to carry the Orb. It doesn't have to be you."
"Of course it does. I was..."
"No." Shafter's hand moved unconsciously to Long's arm. "You are too valuable to risk. I can..."
"They'll be expecting me - not any of the rest of you." Long stepped closer, his voice dropping. "Besides, Ash. I don't want to die today - and I know you will find a way to rescue me."
"You trust me?" Shafter didn't know how to finish the question, At least not with words. He wanted to say - Can you trust me after what I did? What I let you know I *am*? But that wasn't the sort of thing men talked about. Not with other men. Not even with other men who *knew*. Who knew because they *were* the other man. He wanted to say it, but he couldn't. So he said nothing.
He said nothing - and somehow Long heard anyway. Laying his hand over Shafter's, Long whispered. "I trust you more then I even trust myself. But" Long leaned closer. " Just in case?"
Long brought his lips into kissing distance, stopping just a wind-breath away. Shafter could feel the heat, scent the mint freshness of his breath. "I love you, Ashton Shafter. Sincerely, totally, and quite completely."
Shafter couldn't see Long's face, but he could hear the sincerity in his voice as the man continued. "Not from the first. I won't lie. When I saw you in that museum, all I could think of is how handsome you were. How strong and tall. How beautiful your olive skin was, and how rich it would look against my own. How much I wanted those arms around me - those legs between mine.
The words brought a vision richer then even memory, and Shafter shivered.
"I set out simply to seduce you." Long continued. "But? That was before I knew you."
Long stepped back, letting Shafter see the truth in his eyes. "I know you regret last night. I'm sorry for that. I don't regret it. Even if I regret the pain you feel now, I can't regret what we did. I never will. Unless last night is our only night, and then the only thing I'll regret is that I didn't insist that you... return the favor."
Long raised Shafter's hand up to his lips, almost kissing the roughened fingers. "I don't fear death - but I very much fear that I'll never have known *your* passion. I love you, and I respect you, and I want to spend whatever life I have with you."
There was a pause - an expectant stillness - and then Long lowered the hand again. "I'm sorry if that's not what you wanted to hear, but I didn't want to *never* have told you that."
There was a painfully long silence, and then: "Richard?" Shafter's voice was faint even in the silence.
"Yes?" Long didn't move away - but he didn't draw closer. Not until he felt both of Shafter's arms wrap around his shoulders.
"Wang's.. still boxing the Orb." A deep blush darkened Shafter's cheeks. "We have... a few minutes.... if you want..."
"Oh, Ash." Longs own arms shot out, wrapping around Shafter and pulling him into a body-long embrace. "If you want me..."
Shafter's lips cut off the conversation.
It was nearly a minute before they spoke again.
"The closet." Long gasped.
"No."
Long jerked as if he had been struck.
Shafter's fingers tightened on his shoulder's "Not no forever but - not like that. I don't want it to be like that. Not for this. Not for us. I want us to be more." Shafter slowly shifted away from the other man. Not letting go, but softening the embrace so they could meet eye to eye "I don't know the fancy words you do. I don't have your... style. So I'm probably getting this as wrong as I got last night."
Long pressed closer. "You never...."
"Please." Shafter's voice cracked on the word. "I love you. I don't know how or why, and I sure don't know why or how you could ever love me back, but?" Dropping the embrace, Shafter reached for his own hand. He twisted the FBI Academy ring until it pulled free. Then he pressed the heavy circle into Long's palm. "There it is. I love you. And I don't know where this love is going - or how we can live with it - but I know you. And I trust you. And if you tell me there is something... for us.... then I will believe you. Today, tomorrow, and to my dying day."
"If that is today? And if you die then it *will* be today, because I'm not giving you up without one hell of a fight. But if it is? " Shafter ran one scared finger over Long's lips. "OK. Then it is. I hope not. I want to have a future. Even more, I want to have one with you. But today or forever, it's not gonna change what matters. So? Since it's not gonna change - I know that we can wait to do this right."
[Trivia note: The Maya is a theater in downtown Los Angeles. The type that had live entertainment between movies. Back then it would have been very flashy. And an Alta-Dena is something like a 7-11.]
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Chapter 27: Two Women and a Boy. ( Or - Billy in a Tight Place)
Fifi D'Lite collapsed against Amanda Laie as the trap door clanged shut above them.
"Oh, Fifi" Amanda reached out, sliding her arms around the blonde maid. "I'm so sorry."
"Pour quoi?" Fifi let eyes roam around the narrow chamber. It was dark. Almost too dark to see. But what faint light did make its way though the grate above did little to cheer the chill circle of cut stone that rose around the two women. "You did nothing, mon ange. It is these evil men." She waved a hand up in the general direction of the inviable guards. "All evil men who take and take, and do not know how to love." She allowed her cheek to fall on the fragile shoulder below her. "But that is the story of my life."
"And mine." Amanda sighed, pulling the other woman yet closer. "I am most sorry that they took you too. You shouldn't suffer for the schemes I talked myself into." It was chill in the barren stone chamber, and she could feel Fifi shiver from cold - and from fear. "I wish I could help."
"Mais... you can." Fifi brushed her lips lightly over Amanda's. "If these monsters are to do..." the French maid shuddered. "what I think they shall do? The French main reached behind herself, untieing her white apron. "I want to have at least one last good memory."
"At least one, my dearest." Amanda unfastened the first button of Fifi's black dress, then the second."But I sincerely hope it's not the last." After the fourth button yielded, Amanda stroked her hands over the other girls now bare shoulder.
Fifi leaned forward, doing the same to Amanda's silk blouse.
"On yes." Amanda whispered, rolling back to shield Fifi from the chill of the stone floor as the other woman's body moved above hers.
Fifi lowered her lips to Amanda's breasts. "Today or anjourdui, I hope mademoiselle will *be* my last."
Amanda shivered from more than the cold as skilled fingers made their way up her leg. "Oh oui. Most definitely oui."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"Your pardon, Force Commander" The young spaceman bowed obediently to the older man. "Deputy Tanna." He sketched a more shallow salute to the young woman at the leaders side. "Fleet Commander Farttoz is on the Electro-Viewscreen, and he... asks... to see you."
He hesitation was brief. Almost unnoticeable. But it was enough to warn Erros that this had not been the most courteously phrased request. Not that the Spacer delivering would say more. It was not wise to know of the disagreements of those in authority. Even less wise to let those authorities *know* what was known. They had too great a tendency to punish the messenger when the cause of that message was frustratingly out of reach.
Rumor had it. The young spaceman hid his smile. The lower decks were constantly awash in rumor. Some real. Some wishful thinking. Right now, rumor had it that - come victory - the earth-animals would be drafted to service the higher ranks. Indeed, a few wild speculators had even insisted that even the lower and unregarded spacers would have their choice of juicy earth-holes to fuck.
Perhaps. The young spacer straightened, giving another salute. And welcome if it was. But until then? Right now he would do better to focus on guarding his own ass - by not giving an angry Force Commander any reason to punish it.
Erros's attention slowly settled on the messenger, as if it had taken a moment for the message to sink in. "I will take it in my office..." the Force Commander began, returning a casual salute. "No, better yet, " He gave Tanna a significant look. The central control room."
Yes, Erros thought. That would be the best place for this audience. No need to let the commander see any of the... local comforts... Erros had permitted himself. Soon it would not matter, but until he actually had his hands on the earthlings balls?
He had not risen so high without remembering to guard his own backside!
The alien soldiers knew they were dismissed, and normally they would have vanished gratefully. This time, however, the messenger decided to risk a question.
"What shall we do with the earthing?"
"Take him to the pit!" Deputy Tanna snarled. "With the others!"
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Fifi screamed as Billy's limp body landed on top of her.
Amanda Laie scrambled to disentangle herself from what was now two bodies."Are you hurt?"
Fifi slid out from under Billy. "Non, but..."
"Ohhh." Billy moaned as he flopped onto the stone floor.
"C'est Billy." Fifi ran her hands over the bruised but familiar chest. " And he is hurt. Mon Doctor Amanda, can you help him?"
"Dr. Laie?" Billy blinked, trying to make out their faces in the deep shadows of the narrow chamber. "Miss Fifi?"
"We are fine." Fifi slid her arm under his shoulder. "What happened, Billy?"
"The woman. The alien. She has this table."
Amanda helped Fifi ease him over to the one faint beam of light. Not enough for a decent examination, but all they had. "Your hair."
"There was this light." Billy winced at the memory. "Like a razor. It burned."
Amanda unfastened the shredded remains of his one white cuff, folding it into a pad. "Your wrists." She dabbed gently at the dozens of shallow cuts that showed where the manacles had scored his flesh. "What else?"
"She had... this tube. And it sucked at me. Again and again and again, and..." Billy winced as Amanda lifted his leg to treat his equally battered ankle. She was gentle, but the cold floor against his twice-bruised backside was agony.
Amanda Laie rolled him to his side, helping him rest his chest against Fifi. "Down here, Billy?"
"Ohhh." He whimpered as Amanda ran her fingers lightly over his ball sac.
"What else, Billy?" Amanda slid off her jacket, easing it beneath his battered body. " I want to help you. I'm a doctor."
"Then there as this probe." Billy pressed his face into Fifi's breast as the doctor's fingers moved back. "It went up inside me. So deep. And they wouldn't stop."
She spread the buttocks gently. "So I can see." Amanda said, almost resting her cheeks on his upturned ass. Her breath was warm along his tender crack. "I wish I had water for this." She moved even lower. "Try to relax Billy. I must get you clean."
"Thank you, Dr. Laie." He gasped as her tongue flicked out against the aching ring of muscle. "But I don't think I'll ever feel clean again."
"Poor petit. I know how that feels." Fifi pulled him even closer. "Trust me that you *will* get better."
"But..." Billy wiggled under the pain/pleasure of the probing tongue. "Sir Eric. He said..."
"He will not blame you, petit. He loves you, and he will be proud that you were so brave."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"So, Erros." Fleet Commander Farttoz's face glared from the viewscreen. "What is your excuse for failure *this* time."
The lack of title was an open insult. Erros made a note to add that to his revenge when he finally triumphed.
"Please, Fleet Commander." Tanna saluted slowly, buying time to think. Soon their victory would make this old fart's opinions irrelevant, but right now?
"Force Commander Erros?" A young Spaceman interrupted from the doorway, Normally a punishable offense, but under the circumstances? Clearly Deputy Tanna, at least, would be most forgiving.
An assumption proven when both Erros and Tanna signaled him to come forward.
"Deputy Tanna." The young spacer saluted again, just to be careful. "Your agents report they have Orb - and the earthling scientist."
"Excellent news, Spaceman." Erros returned the salute briskly, "Inform them that they shall be rewarded. As you shall be yourself."
"Very well, Erros." Fleet Commander Farttoz snarled. "Command them to bring the Orb - and to kill the earthing,
"No, sir." Deputy Tanna stepped closer to the screen.
"What?" Even without the static of the screen, the Fleet Commander's voice would have crackled.
Tanna gave Erros a brief but significant look, then bowed deeply to the screen. "Your forgiveness, Fleet Commander Farttoz, but would it not be better to learn what *he* has learned before we dispose of the creature?"
"As you say." Farttoz answered reluctantly. "You are forgiven, Tanna. This time. But my mercy will depend on your results. If the earthling does not talk? If he does not say what I wish to hear?" He left the rest of the threat unspoken.
Erros turned to Tanna. "Make it so."
Chapter 28: A Stroll in the Park
Meanwhile - back at Griffith Part, just under the shadow of the great observatory - another part of our story is beginning to unfold.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
The gangster called Joe watched through the window as his boss drove slowly past the carousel. The noontime sun beat down, bleaching the polychrome horses when they pranced out of their sheltering shadows, but the play area was still crowded with children. Mostly they were there with mothers in tow, but in the grass area across the road a few fathers stood by their barbecue grills to complete the family picture, and the long benches at the other side of the pavilion held a wilted row of nannies waiting for their charges to rid themselves of snack-fueled energy.
Hardly the deserted landscape the movie folks would have chosen to stage a kidnapping, he thought, but crowds brought their own sort of invisibility.
"Say, Mac?" He looked forward at his criminal leader, who was driving the car. "Yer sure this is gonna work?"
"It's gotta work." The boss gangster's fingers tightened on the steering wheel until the knuckles shone ash-white against the blackened iron. "If we don't bring back something, that Tanna bitch..." He shuddered at the memory.
"Yeh." His confederate gripped the door handle as the car jolted through another rut in the narrow dirt road. "And the big boss. He's worse."
"Real pain in the ass." The boss cranked to the left, swerving around a pair of kids playing cowboys as he turned the car back for another circuit.
"You're telling me."
"Damn aliens" The crook called Mac stomped the breaks sharply to let a gaggle of kids run over to the picnic area. Hell of a place to do business but it was nearby - and there were *lots* of dark corners where things a lit less happy then birthday parties could take place.
"Boss?" Joe asked carefully. "I ain't no welsher - but once this gig is done?
His companion nodded. "We blow this joint."
Joe turned back to the window. Kids, kids, and more kids. Who would have thought the carousel would be so busy on a school day? At least some of the mom's were cute. If you went for the wholesome type. Hell, right now he would settle for the *female* type. His moll had walked out on him months ago, and in this city more of the chickies seemed to go for the pretty-boy types. Those that went for boys at all. It had been a long dry spell, and his last sex had been... Well, he'd just as soon not think about that.
Joe focused his eyes on the crows, watching for Dr. Long, but his mind was elsewhere. "I know this guy in Boston, Mac. Runs smokes down from Canada. Bet he could use two guys ... if they was hard guys."
"Works for me." Mac turned the car left again, heading up into the jammed parking lot. "Even if Boston ain't got the California broads. " He his voice grew wistful. "Nottin' quite like California tail."
"I don't know." His sidekick stretched his neck our for a better look. " My friend? He was running this one chick? She could take *three* at once."
The boss snorted. "Don't matter if you ain't *got* three."
"Yah" Joe leaned over to the front seat. "But it would sure be something to see."
"Careful of the hat." Mac pushed the shorter thug back. "Just try to see what your supposed to be looking for - or it's gonna be us with the three at once."
"Right boss." Joe obediently turned his attention back to the carousel. "Hey! Look over there, Boss." He rested one hand on the drivers shoulder, pressing the other against the front windshield. "The blond."
Mac pushed the hand off. "Keep your mind on business."
"Boss." Joe leaned ever farther forward, this time resting against the dashboard to keep his balance. "I mean *that* blonde." He pointed to a tall man standing on the quiet side of the carousel pavilion.
His cohort slowed the car to a crawl. "You think that's him?"
"Sure looks like it." Joe sat back into his seat, reaching for the door latch. "Tall, blonde, nice suit - and he don't look like he's looking at any of the kids."
"Or the broads," the boss agreed. "Watch his eyes. He's following the guys, not the dolls." Convinced, he slid the car into a parking space almost hidden by two bushes. "That's gotta be our chump. Go for it."
Joe jumped out of the car. "I'll get him here. You just be ready."
He forced himself to take the long way around the merry-go-round. Never wracking, but smarter then letting your chump know you were coming. The guy who had to be Long was tucked almost invisibly between the water fountains and the rest rooms at the back of the pavilion, but he was watching every unattached man who walked by with just a touch too much interest to be truly casual. No, Joe decided, those were the eyes of a man who was waiting for *something*, all right. And Joe knew just what,
He strolled up, trying to look casual as he held out the pack of Lucky Strikes. "Fag?"
The man gave him a nervous smile. "Thanks."
Joe took a cigarette himself, then tucked the pack back into his jacket. "You brought yer ball?" Yep. This was Long. The young gangster could see the jitters slide away from the other mans posture.
"Two of them." The man grinned. "You want to see?"
"Sure thing."
"Rest rooms?" The man indicated the nearby building with a quick shift of his eyes. "They're pretty private."
"Nah." Joe pointing to the parking lot. "We go to my car."
"Excuse me." A soft voice interrupted, and tan but exceedingly well manicured hand suddenly tapped Joe on the shoulder.
The gangster spun around. "What tha..."
Thomas Long opened his other hand, letting the gangster get just the slightest glimpse of the blue glow. "I think this is what you're looking for?"
"Then what?" Joe squinted at the other man - the one he had thought was Long. Obviously a mistake, but he that guy *wasn't* waiting to swap the Orb, then what was he here for?
"Sorry," Long said to the stranger.
Joe watched with dawning insight - and horror - as the doctor and the stranger exchanged significant looks. Oh. So *that* was what the guy was here for. And he had just asked to see the guys balls?
That did it, Joe decided. Boss or no boss, he was heading for Boston on the next train out.
"No problem." The stranger took Long's proffered hand. "I didn't know he was.... um... taken."
Long shrugged. "Sort of a blind date - you might say."
The gangster watched the stranger walk away. Once the man was well out of ear shot, he held out his hand. "Gimmie."
"Not a chance." Long clamped his hand over his jacket pocket. "Not until I see my people." The scientist looked over his shoulder, as if expecting the girls to appear out of air. "If you even have them."
"We have em," Joe snarled, "and you're gonna see them soon enough." He pointed at the dirt path to the parking lot. "This way!"
Long followed the gangster up the narrow path,
Just as he reached the Packard at he far end of the lot, Long felt a hard blow to the back of his head.
"Got him." The taller gangster tossed a blanket over the stunned scientist, muffling any shouts.
"Hold him!" Joe struggled to loop a heavy rope around the struggling man without also catching his partner.
Long kicked back, but managed to slip on the loose dirt before hurting either villain. Both man tackled him. After that? It was a tough struggle, but in a few minutes Dr. Thomas Long was trussed from neck to waist.
Joe rubbed his shoulder, where a punch had landed after just missing his jaw, and tied the final knot. "Guess these science types just ain't used to fighting."
"That's what comes from having too much schooling." The boss gangster picked up his hat. "Makes guys soft." He slid back into the drivers seat. "Toss our guest in the trunk."
"You're sure?" Joe ran his hand over the seat of Longs slimly tailored trousers. Fighting always got him hot, and...well, when in Rome and all that ... "Cause I was thinking. He's sort of....
"The *trunk*." The boss gangster shot a thumb over his shoulder." We haven't got time for that." He slammed the car into gear. "Besides - you lay a hand on his ass - that Tanna bitch will take it out of mine."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Moms, you know how it is. Your boys are having fun - just fooling around - and they they don't pay attention to the rumble that tells them what's coming. Then, just when the game is getting good? SPLASH! And there they are. Wet, and maybe going to catch something.
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•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Chapter 29: A Through De- Briefing
Meanwhile, back at the Richard Long's comfortable Griffith Park home, two men sit in the darkened living room and wait for news. Admiral Shaggemal is seated at Dr. Long's comfortable desk, reading, while Patrolman O'Doul sits at the window, watching the empty street below though the narrow slit in the draperies.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"O'Doul!" Admiral Shaggemal's voice was a whip-crack in the silent house.
"Wha..." The young patrolman shot up, shaken from his reverie.
His voice was sharp. Almost pained. Partially because of the surprise, and partially because the sudden motion *was* a pain. While Dr. Laie's treatment of the night before had reduced the desperate compulsion of the alien weapon, there were parts of his body that now considered the cure almost worse then the disease. His thighs ached almost as much as they had when - back in boot camp - his drill sergeant had set the squad to doing a thousand push-ups. Which, O'Doul considered, might not be that far off the mark. At least in terms of count. And while *these* particular exertions had been done on something a lot more comfortable then the Fort Dix sand-pack? His back was still as sore as any full-pack march could have left it.
Still, he didn't want to look like a wimp in front of the recruiting -poster perfection that was his rescuer. Bad enough that he had to greet the older man wearing borrowed pants and no shirt. O'Doul tugged at the velvet lapels of his smoking jacket, trying to tuck in the chest hairs that insisted on peaking out between the plunging sides of hte burgundy velvet. Maybe he should have put on an undershirt; but Fifi hadn't delivered one, and after all the trouble he had put Long to already? He didn't want to ask for any more favors.
He hitched up the satin pants. So he looked like a weak sister. He didn't have to act like one as well.
"Sir." O'Doul was glad when the word came out in his best parade-ground tone.
"According to this file," the Admiral tapped the manila cover, "You have been the subject of this pink ray. How..."
"Sorry, Admiral." O'Doul settled carefully back into the armchair, trying hard not to let the hesitation show in his face. "That's ... personal. I'd rather not talk about it."
"Citizen," Shaggemal's tone dropped to a growl. "Your country's freedom could be at risk."
"Yeh, well..." O'Doul shifted uncomfortably. Not only because the shining black fabric of the satin pants tended to bunch up where a heavier fabric would not have, but more because he knew his answers would be a lot less slick then the cloth. "My job could be at risk. If anyone found out that I'd been..." the younger man shuddered visibly at the thought. "I just don't want to face that in the locker room."
The Admiral shut the covers with a hard `thwack'. "I assure you, these files are classified, and entirely confidential."
"Not that I don't believe you, but..." O'Doul stiffened again as the Admiral strode over to stand beside his chair. Lord, the Navy man was was big. And strong. And... O'Doul wanted to do... anything the man wanted... but..."It's my ass on the line." O'Doul winced as his restless movements brought still another flare of pain from his still sore rear. "So to speak."
And maybe not only as a matter of speech, he thought. If it got out that O'Doul put out on patrol? Every guy on the squad would want to be his partner - but it wouldn't be because they liked the way he filled out his arrest forms. O'Doul shivered again. He didn't go that way. At least - he thought he didn't.
Billy had been... He had to smile a bit. Billy had been wonderful. But Dr. Laie - Amanda - had been there too, so O'Doul wasn't sure how that counted pansy-wise. Although if he had a chance at just Billy? Alone? He admitted to himself that he's probably take it. Make that hell yes he'd take it. Of course, O'Doul added mentally, he'd take a second shot at the lady doctor just as fast. Did that make him just a horn dog? Or did it make him queer?
He frowned. Even it did tend toward queer, that didn't mean he wanted to do the other cops. Most of the guys in the squad were on the one-to-many donut side of fitness. Unlike the Admiral. O'Doul gave the officer a look of purely professional appreciation. That man hadn't let high rank make him lazy and fat. He still looked just as tough as any sailor on a War Bond drive.
"You have my word, as an officer and a gentleman, that whatever I learn today will stay entirely between us, Dr. Long, and if need be Agent Shafter." The Admirals breath was warm against O'Doul's ear. "And I will only tell them what I must for our nation's defense." Resting his hand comfortingly on the younger man's shoulder, the Navy man continued. " I hope you know you can trust me on this."
"Absolutely, Sir." O'Doul raised his own hand to meet the Admirals. "I know you'll always be straight with me."
"So" Shaggemal gave O'Doul's fingers a light pat." You've felt this pink ray four times."
The Admiral sat carefully on the overstuffed arm of O'Doul's chair, and O'Doul could feel the heat of his broad chest as he held the report out before the two of them.
O'Doul took a deep breath. "Five."
"What?"
"Five times, Admiral." O'Doul forced his eyes to meet those of the handsome older man. "I didn't tell the Doctor last night, but... five. Once in the museum. Once in the squad car. Twice at the base." O'Doul tried desperately not to blush. "Which you know about." At the Admiral's silent nod, O'Doul continued. "But there was also one more time. After I left the police station I went with my mother to a church social... and it happened again there."
"Another ray?" The Admiral pulled out his pen. "Or just some after effect of the first two events?"
"I'm pretty sure it was another ray." O'Doul forced down another blush. Why couldn't he be like the Admiral - so cool and scientific. Or like Dr. Long? Men like that weren't put off their game by a little.... strangeness. They could take it in stride. They never ended up bare-assed and embarrassed by the bad guys. And they *sure* wouldn't be reduced to stuttering just because another man looked so *damn* good in a uniform.
Edging slightly away from the tempting heat, O'Doul did his best to match the Admiral's manly attitude. "If it was just a flashback, then I'd be the only one who felt it, right?"
"I gather you weren't."
"No." O'Doul blinked a bit as the memory of just how *not* unaffected the other members of the congregation were raced across his mental vision. "Everyone there was...well, you know how they were."
"Sexually... compelled."
O'Doul nodded. "Most of them worse then I was."
"This was not reported?" Shaggemal shook his head. "Damn, the danger is greater then I had imagined. If we are having ray attacks all over..."
He reached for the phone, halting only when O'Doul said. "I haven't heard of any others."
"It could still be happening." The Admiral frowned. "And right now our national interests are spread wide open for these monsters. We must stop them before they penetrate our national security any further. I cant believe we weren't told."
"Would you have wanted to tell anyone?" O'Doul tightened his jacket sash. The damn thing kept falling open, and the room was cold. Not that he had noticed it before, but that had to be why his nipples were tightening. It couldn't be from the images that insisted on passing though his brain. Images that somehow insisted on placing the Admiral sitting beside him in that basement of moaning, panting people. "I mean, if two guys just walked up to where you were sitting, minding your own business, and started to..."
"No." The Admiral agreed quickly. "I suppose not." Adding a few notes to the open file, he asked. "So that makes it five times that you have been... penetrated..."
"Two." O'Doul interrupted.
The Admiral raised an eyebrow. "I meant by the ray."
"Oh, that."
"But your answer seems to indicate some varying effects. I assume by penetration you thought I meant... penetration."
"Right. That? It only happened twice." O'Doul held up five fingers, then rapidly folded three of them. "Maybe only once." He folded another finger. "The museum doesn't count. I mean, it was only...." O'Doul made a universally recognized hand motion in the vicinity of his lap. "I suppose because it was just the after-residue of the ray, and not the real thing."
The Admiral made an equally recognized gesture at the same area O'Doul had referenced. "You felt a clear difference?"
"Definitely." O'Doul said. Not that he wanted to discuss this at all, but if he *had* to confess all that had happened? At least he wanted the navy man to understand that - whatever it might seem like - he did have some self control. "I mean, in the museum rest room afterwards?" He glanced at the Admiral. "I was horney as hell, but I wouldn't have let Miller... well, I wouldn't have let him do what he did later."
The Admiral leaned closer, and his hand slipped slightly from O'Doul's shoulder to his bare chest. "But you did ... consent... when hit later by the pink ray itself."
"Well, I didn't exactly fight him off when... " O'Doul paused. "I guess it says there what Miller did."
The Admiral made a show of looking at his report. "With a donut, it says."
"A maple log. You know, the frosted thing. About this six inches long by..." The patrolman made a circle with his fingers. "Although he didn't actually use the pastry to..." O'Doul finished the sentence by making a thrusting motion. "He just used the filing inside to..." A circular motion from O'Doul's one still upheld finger pantomimed exactly how the cream filling had been applied.
Shaggemal smiled. "Miller said it was...tasty."
O'Doul blinked. That was a strange question. Surely the Admiral hadn't eaten all his meals at the Base Mess. But since he couldn't figure a reason not to, he answered. "Yes, Winchel's makes good donuts."
"So this Miller?" The Admiral leaned over to flip a page, and his fingers brushed accidentally over O'Doul's left nipple. "He was the first man to... enter you."
"First and *last*." O'Doul tried to make his voice sound confident. It might not be technically true, but he figured Billy could be discounted. The boy might have been inside, but not inside *there*, so he told himself that Billy didn't have to really count.
When the Admiral didn't reply, O'Doul continued. "The time at the base I was on top."
"Oh, yes." Shaggemal flipped though the papers. "I have Seaman Trent's report right here. Three times in the rear... of your police car. Any particular reason for that?"
O'Doul wanted to answer `What kind of guy do you think I am' - but he was pretty certain the report in front of them had already answered that question. But he had to come up with some sort of answer. After a moments thought, he suggested. "I was still pretty sore from Miller -and then the time at the church."
"Yes." The Admiral eyes were sharp with interest. "You say you were... sore... yet you also insist that at this unreported incident there was no..."
"Well, not like *that*" O'Doul interrupted. "At least not with..."
A man was what O'Doul had intended to add. A man like you was what an evil voice at the back of his mind insisted on adding.
Not that he ever would say such a thing. Which the evil voice insisted was a real pity. Because this man was a lot hotter then Miller. Hotter then China Lake and the back of his patrol car. Hotter then the sailor he'd had in the back of that patrol car.
O'Doul suppressed that thought ruthlessly. You didn't think about a high-ranking officer in he same way you did some unimportant sailor. Not to mention how angry the Admiral would be if he even suspected O'Doul of having such thoughts.
"Yes?" the Admiral asked, his face inches from O'Doul's.
"I'm not sure. I mean, I know what happened, but I'm not sure how you'd define it." And even if O'Doul could have found a word, he wasn't certain he would have used it. Even as careful as his language had been, this conversation was starting to affect his body in a far-too- visible way. He smoothed the bottom of the smoking jacket down, holding back a gasp as his palms bushed his swollen cock. He gave a brief prayer of thanks that he had at least something to cover the far-to-thin cloth of the matching pants.
"I need you to be more specific." At O'Doul's hesitation, the Admiral added. "For the sake of national security."
"Well, when the ray first hit, Reverend Wagger, he gave me a..." O'Doul made another familiar gesture."
"A blow job." Shaggemal let his hand slide lower. "Go on."
"Then, once my pants were down?" O'Doul shuddered, lost in memory. "Somebody - I didn't look to see who - took this sausage and...well... did like Miller did. Only... he took a lot longer."
"A sausage?" The Admiral held up his hand, thumb and forefinger only a few inches apart. "Aren't those sort of..."
"Polish kelbassa." O'Doul touched the other man's hand with his own.The palms were rough, hard with labor. The Admiral was definitely no land-side sailor. He spread them until they were separated by perhaps eighteen inches. "It was a barbecue."
"Hummm." The Admiral set down the file so he could rest a second hand on O'Doul. The movement send his palm bushing once more over O'Doul's hardening nipple. "You say you took eighteen inches? What did it feel like?"
O'Doul squirmed. Partially because of the question and partially because of memory and partially because of... well, things he was better not misconstruing. Just because those big hands felt go very hot against his bare skin, that didn't mean that the Admiral meant anything by it. It was just O'Doul's improper memories that made it so impossibly tempting.
He could have gone forever without more of Miller, but when he thought about Reverend Wagger? Or, even more dangerously, remembered Billy's pretty pink lips and even prettier pink cock? When he thought about perhaps using Billy as he had that young sailor? Or, even more impossibly, when his uncontrolled thoughts kept superimposing another - far higher ranking - Navy uniform on the remembered scene.
The tension between desire and reality likely showed in his voice when he answered, "What do you *think* it felt like?" O'Doul tried to stand up. "Science or not, I'm not particularly happy to sit here talking about just how I took it up the ass, so if you..."
"If you don't want to talk about it." Shaggemal's fingers slid under the soft fabric and down to the sash of O'Doul's jacket. "Perhaps you could show me? Reconstruct the incident , as it were?"
The Admiral slid gently between O'Doul's knees, pressing them apart. "You said that the church incident began with fellatio." Swiftly untying the smoking jacket, the Admiral ran his fingers over the growing mound in O'Doul's satin pants. `With you standing, I gather." The Admiral pulled on O'Doul's hands, urging the patrolman to his feet. " And the good Reverend on his knees like this?"
He slid down the zipper, and O'Doul's now-hard cock sprang out.
Shaggemal leaned forward, swallowing the length in a single movement.
"Ohhhh." O'Doul cried. But he didn't move away.
Swirling his tongue over the flared head, the Admiral rapidly worked the hard meat.
"oh... Please." O'Doul tried to fall back, but the firm fingers gripping his thighs forbade it. So he thrust forward instead. "Please, Ohhh."
Admiral S leaned back, giving a last lick to the dripping head before he asked. "Was it something like that?"
"Yes. Only...." His brain froze. How could he say `Only this is better'. He couldn't even believe this was happening. What few drops of blood that were still reaching his brain had better duties then to come up with explanations as to why it was impossible that this could possibly be actually taking place. Not that it could be, he thought. There was no possibility at all that a senior Navy officer was actually kneeling on the floor in front of him and giving him the best Hoovering of his entire life.
This had to be madness. Some side effect of the ray. Probably he was hallucinating, and the pink ray's after effects were going to kill him. At that, O'Doul had to grin. Maybe so - but what a way to go. And if this *was* real?
"Ahhhhhh."He closed his eyes as the Admiral took him in again. "Ohhhhh."
He clutched at the Admiral's arms as the man's finger's tickled a his balls while his lips nipped up and down the swollen length of throbbing flesh. A few more hard sucks and he came, shuddering as the hot mouth milked out every last drop of manly fluid.
Admiral Shaggemal stood up, licking his lips. "Now, as to the second part." He slid O'Doul's jacket off, tossing it lightly over the desk. "How thick did you say that sausage was?"
"Na... Nooo." O'Doul tried to step back, but the chair blocked his patch. " No. Not even for..." He felt himself torn. The voice in his head urged him to just surrender. To do whatever this man wanted, whatever pain it might involve. But the ache in his backside was too real. Too fearfully recent. As was the memory of how it had gotten that way. "I can't... I wont take..."
Shaggemal unbuttoned his uniform jacket, then his pants. He folded them neatly over the side table."Actually." He slid off his starched white boxers. "I thought I might manage your part." Stepping past the young patrolman, the Navy officer bent over the soft back of the easy chair. He restedhis head on the chair back, raising his tight tanned ass towards the young policeman.
"Oh." O'Doul was overwhelmed with a sudden vision of the squad car - with the Admiral in his place and him acting as Sargent Miller had. "In that case..."O'Doul paused, panting as if he had run a mile. "Let me check the kitchen."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
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•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Chapter 30: On the Road to Amanda Laie
"This new device is highly classified." Ivan Putzoutski unlocked a door at the rear of the lab, then pulled back a section of false wall to reveal a massive display of radio tunes and dials. "It will allow us to locate a plane - or a man - solely by the triangulation and refraction of radio waves."
"Such as the signal Dick...Dr. Long... is wearing.?" Richard Shafter's eyes locked on the complex display. He didn't pretend to understand science - especially not on the level that these men did - but if this machine was what Richard Long's safety depended upon? Shafter knew he would damn well learn.
"Exactly. As long as he stays above ground, we can track him from here." Slipping on the operators headset, he turned to Ash Shafter. "We will try to guide your car by radio phone."
Eric Manlove frowned. "What if they take him indoors. Or into one of the deep canyons?" He didn't need to add that the later was far too likely. They were all Angelino's. They knew the local geography.
"If we lose the signal, you will have to take over." Dr. Wang bent industriously over a jumble of tubes and wires scattered across his work bench. Perhaps he knew what it was. Shafter sure didn't. Make that almost certainly the Asian scientist knew what he was doing. Nobody moved that fast unless they were confident. And the older man's fingers were flying. "This device will allow you to home in on the Copulatronic Ray frequency itself."
"You're sure this will work?" Not that Shafter didn't trust the man. After all, Long had vouched for this pair. And where Shafter was concerned? Well, he had pretty much decided that Long's word was about all he needed on anything. Except, a little voice conceded, when it came to risking Richard Long himself. Now that his Dick was finally in hand, Ash Shafter wasn't about to let go. Not for aliens. Not for anyone.
"Let me demonstrate."
The other three men paid careful attention as Wang made his way to the far end of the lab, where a tube studded box ended in something that looked like a saws off shotgun. As long as you didn't mind your shotgun's being made of glass - and painted pink.
"This is a small scale mock up of what we believe to be the Copulatronic Ray device." Wang flipped a knife-lever switch, and power began to hum though the device. "While not as strong as the actual weapon, it should be enough to demonstrate the tracer. Agent Shafter? If you will step over to the tracer monitor, and watch the central dial?" Wang turned a dial, and the vacuum tubes on the Ray machine began to glow with a strangely ominous reddish light. "Ivan?" He gestured as his colleague. "If you will stand against the wall?"
Shafter held up his hand as the older scientist complied. "You sure you want to risk this?"
"I'm not worried." Ivan Putzoutski answered, sliding out of his heavy lab coat. "The device is not that strong. And besides - I trust my friend here to take care of any... medical problems."
"You're the doctor, doctor."
Standing by Eric Manlove, Ash Shafter watched in growing apprehension as a strange and pervasive vibration filled the lab - and his body. The protective pearl began to glow red hot.
He glanced over at Manlove. The man's face was set - as if he was controlling some unwelcome expression - and his eyes seemed glazed. Without the protection of Long's Egyptian device. how badly was this affecting the actor? Shafter was still considering how to phrase such a question when...
*BA-ZINNNG*
A nearly solid line of pink light burst front the rifle end on the ray machine, hitting Ivan Putzoutski dead on the groin.
The man jerked, as if electrocuted.
"Ahhhh."
Shafter watched in growing horror as the scientists fingers clutched frantically as the wall behind him. His face was pale, his brow drench with sweat, and his pants front was... growing.
"Ohhh, Ohhhhhhhhh" Ivan Putzoutski thrust frantically at the empty air.
"Watch the dial." Wang commanded.
Brought to his senses, Shafter obeyed. He turned the wire radio dish towards Wang's device and... it worked! When the dish-like receiver was pointed a the ray machine, the machine's glass screen was a solid mass of waving lines. When he pointed it at the... he hesitated over the term victim. When it was aimed at Dr. Putzoutski, only half the screen was filled. And when he turned the receiver all the way away? The glass screen was almost black.
"It works." Shafter was too unsettled to keep all the shock out of his voice.
"Of course." Wang turned off the ray.
"Uhhh." Ivan Putzoutski slid to the floor.
"Now. If you gentlemen will excuse us briefly?" Wang went over to Putzoutski, sliding an arm under the fallen man's shoulder. "I need a moment to take care of my colleague."
"Oh. Oh, yes." Pain made the white-haired scientist clutch as his colleague. "Oh, Du."
"Just walk a bit, and I will. I promise."
Stumbling slightly the two men went into what Shafter assumed was the lab infirmary.
Shafter knew he should offer to help. Putzoutski was doubtless a heavy burden for a man of Wang's age - even if the senior scientist did look like he kept himself fit. But before he could offer, Wang and Putzoutski had already closed the door to the other room - and locked it.
Even so, the faint sounds of... was that pain?...
"Ohh...Du... Phuq. Oh ... yes.... Wang!." Shafter heard Putzoutski call out the other man's name. He only hope that Dr. Wang did indeed know some method to relieve the afflicted scientists obvious agony.
Shafter forced his thoughts away from ... whatever was happening behind that door."I suppose we should get back to work."
Manlove gave the bundle of glass and wires a suspicious once-over. "You think they will take him to the enemy base?"
They had to, Shafter thought, stroking his fingers over the his rough navy tie, wishing now that it was the aqua silk that Long... Richard... had tried to press upon him. How petty his resistance now seemed in light of Long's willing sacrifice.
"We have to hope so." Shafer answered. "Even though the future of America - of the Earth itself - may depend upon what he dies today. It is hard enough to permit Richard Long to take this tremendous risk. I refuse to allow his courage to be in vain."
Manlove slapped the table. "It damn well won't be!"
Shafter prayed not. After these few whirlwind days he was uncertain of many things, but one thing he was rock-certain about. He would do anything - absolutely *anything* - to protect his ... Shafter hesitated, not yet comfortable even in his own mind with using the word lover. Yet? He ran his thumb over the thin band of pale flesh where his FBI class ring no longer rested. That was what Long...Richard... Dick... had promised him. Not just pleasure, but love.
Most of Shafter's Washington-cynical mind insisted that such a thing was impossible. More then the simple fact that they were two men, there was the inescapable truth that Long was... everything Shafter knew he was not. Rich. Handsome. Brilliant. Educated and sophisticated. Men like that didn't need rough-edged blue-suits for anything except to handle the dirty work. And yet? Shafter looked anxiously at the radio set, uncertain if he wanted to hear the next message it would bring. Long had sworn his love. Promised them both a future. Taken Shafter's ring. Shafter shook his head. Richard Long might be many things, but one thing the man was not was a liar.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
As the boss gangster guided the brown Packard carefully over the very crest of Observatory Road, his cohort in crime produced a strange looking radio set.
"Base?" He stared at the gray lines that danced over the four-inch glass screen set in the silver box. "Base, this is car one. Come in."
After a few seconds, the flickering lights settled into a familiar - and evil - visage. That of the space-woman Tanna. "Car one, report!" she demanded.
"Tell the big-shot we have the Dick he wanted." The gangster named Joe grinned. "And his balls!"
"Affirmative." Her image flickered as the car bounced over the rutted dirt road. "Return to Base. Repeat. Return to base."
"Heard ya, boss lady." Joe pulled off the headset. "Car one out."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"Are you OK?" Shafter asked a bit nervously as the two scientists emerged from the infirmary. They had been in there quite a while, and Shafter had started to wonder if the pink ray had been to much for Ivan Putzoutski's heart. He wasn't quite sure how old the scientist was, but the man had to be on the far side of forty.Men that age? Well, they could hurt themselves if they got over stimulated.
"Fine. Just fine." Putzoutski answered, reclaiming his white lab coat. "Wang knew exactly how to handle matters."
"Good."
Shatter had to admit Putzoutski did *look* healthy enough. Bright eyed. Smiling. But? Shafter saw how the damp ends of the scientists pale hair curled over his loosened collar. The stress much have been dreadful. To sweat that much? Yet, if Shafter hadn't known better he would have thought that they two of them had just stepped out fresh from the shower. Only the stiff way Putzoutski was walking betrayed the after effects of his alien exposure. Shafter shook his head, impressed. These science guys were tougher then they let on.
Putzoutski went to the radio post, where Manlove was monitoring the police and military frequencies."Any calls?"
Manlove shook his head. "None yet."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Clicking off the Audio-Receptor, Spaceman Tanna quickly made her way to Force-Commander Erros's private office. Knocking once on the door, she waited for his acknowledgement, then stepped inside.
"Hail Erros." She saluted briefly before settling on the a wide arm of his chair.
Unlike the more public arena of the central control room, this rock chamber was decked out with thick carpets and richly upholstered furniture brought by their gangster servants from the earthling city. Such luxury, Tanna knew, was above what a Force Commander's rank could demand. Certainly it was far more then Fleet Commander Fartozz would ever permit. But? She permitted herself the indulgence of a brief smile. Fartozz did not know about this particular side of spacer Erros's tastes. What he did not know of, he could not punish them for. And soon? Her smile grew as she considered the message she would convey. Soon old Fart-Off would not be in a position to punish them at all.
"Hail, Tanna." Erros ran his hand lightly up her arm. "You have news?"
"Our..." At his half-frown she corrected quickly. "*Your*... agents have taken the earthing scientist." She leaned over, pressing her breasts against his shoulder. This was no time to displease an officer who would soon have the power that came with triumph.
"Excellent." Erros set a second hand on her thigh. "The hour of my..." he paused, "The hour of... our... triumph is at hand! Fartozz has proved an obstruction for too long. But with the power of the Rod of Ra in *my* hands?" He slid his palm higher, letting his fingers glide over the curve of her hips.
Yes, Erros. You will soon have a mighty Rod." Tanna did not resist as his hands slid under her uniform tunic. Instead, she bent down and licked his cheek. "And the Balls to match it!"
"And when that old fool Fartozz feels the force of my all-penetrating shaft?" Erros's fingers tightened on her breast.
"Then the Fleet will have a new Leader." She ran her tongue around the tight curves of his ear, feeling his shiver at the implied promise of that tongue's attention in other places. "And it will be my honor to serve him!"
Erros chuckled with evil delight as she dropped to her knees before him.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"News, Ivan?" Dr. Wang looked up from his workbench as his Polish colleague stood suddenly.
"The police found Long's car in Griffith Park." He ran his fingers though his already disheveled white hair.
"Then the gangster's we lying about returning the hostages. Instead they just grabbed him *and* his balls." Eric Manlove's voice was triumphant, until glare from Richard Shafter inspired him to add "Unfortunately."
"But just as he predicted." Shafter turned his attention to Wang. "The bug...?"
"Tracing it... now." Wang worked the dials of his quickly built device while Ivan Putzoutski set a map of Los Angeles on the work bench in front of him. "His signal is moving."
Putzoutski looked at Shafter. "They must have brought their own car."
"The brown Packard." Shafter frowned slightly as he once again glanced down at the police files. Not much information there. Especially not when you considered the array of agencies working to stop this evil plot. But the FBI's central crime lab had managed to identify the thieves from the museum. Not a point that gave Shafter much comfort. They guys had rap sheets longer then his arm. Bootlegging. Armed robbery. Violations of the Mann Act. And now they had graduated to kidnapping. Shafter itched to get his hands on their asses. He would be delighted to boot this bunch to the Big House. Or to the Chair.
Putzoutski paused at the door, clearly uncertain as to whether he should join the company or return to his duties. "Should I go ask for an APB?"
"No."Shafter stepped over, watching intently as Wang sketched the radio trajectory lightly over the brightly colored street map. "They might harm Dick. Dr. Long." Shafter quickly corrected. "We have to stay with the plan."
Manlove pulled on his coat. "Let's go."
Shafter put down the brown-covered police report and reached for his hat. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked the actor.
Manlove snorted. "First they grab my balls. And now they've snatched my Willie. You bet I'm going after those bastards!"
Chapter 31: Piece Officers
On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair, warm small of colitias rising up though the air...
Ooops, wrong fic!
I mean...
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Meanwhile, in the foothills of the San Fernando Valley, a policeman makes a sudden discovery.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"Hey! Parker!" Sargent Miller sat suddenly upright, nearly toppling his coffee mug.
"What, Sarge?"
"That car. The brown one." Miller pointed to a passing sedan, now behind them and making it's apparently lawful way up the Angelus Crest road.
"What?" Parker asked. Hopefully not one of Miller's poker buddies getting a little payback for taking too big of a win, Parker thought. One of the reasons Parker hated riding along with anyone but his steady partner. With a strange cop you never knew what the grift was, or how serious, but if it came down it would be your ass on the line just the same.
Even so, he eased the black and white onto the shoulder and made the turn. Miller was the Sargent, which basically meant what he said Parker had to do. Even if it meant trying to slap a ticket on some evidently undeserving commuter.
Miller peered though the windshield. "That's the car what O'Doul and I were chasing when...
Parker perked up. Some hot foot had given Miller the slip? This sounded like real police work. "When?" he prompted.
"Um... when we had that flat tire. They got away."
Parker clicked up to third gear. This was the pack of punks that had stuck poor O'Doul with changing a tire on the edge of a cliff? Everyone at the station had heard that story, and most - like Parker - thought that the perps were in line for a little street justice if and when. "You want to call this in?"
"Nah." Miller snarled. "We're right on their ass - and this time those punks asses are *mine*!"
"Roger that, Sarge" Parker hit the siren and the overdrive. "Hold on to your suspenders."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
* whop* *whop* *whop*
"Crap!" The gangster in the passenger seat jumped as the sirens sounded - practically in his ear. "It's the cop's again!"
"Damn! We cant let them catch us now. Not with a body in the trunk."
"Hey" Joe clutched at he dash as the car accelerated. "The chump's still alive."
"So?"The driver shifted swiftly. "If we fuck up this one, we won't be."
"Think you can lose them?"
"Don't need to." The driver pushed the accelerator to the floorboards. This street was pretty busy, even though the afternoon rush hadn't started, but there was a turn off he knew about just up ahead. If he could... Yes! The other traffic was yielding to the police car, making it easy to cut over to the right hand lane. " Let me get them to somewhere with less traffic and then..." He nervously checked the rear view mirror. "You did bring the gun, right?"
"Hey!" Joe sounded offended. "I never leave the gat!"
"I mean the *special* gun."
"Oh." An evil smile spread over Joe's battered face. "Yeh." He pulled out the alien weapon, bracing it carefully against the seat back.
"When I give the word." The driver cranked the wheel - hard - sending the car onto the side road in a flare of dust and burning rubber. "Let `em have it!"
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"Sarge." Parker squinted as the cloud of dust almost obscured his view of the car ahead. "He drive like this last time?"
"Yeh." Miller grunted. " Almost had him until..."
From the car in front, a pink light lanced out to surround the perusing black and white.
"Oh fuck!" Miller groaned. "Again?"
"Yes" Parker stomped the brake, spinning the car onto the brush clustered shoulder. " Fuck!" Parker took hold of the other cops uniform shit. Buttons flew through the passenger compartment as he ripped it open, exposing Miller's bare chest. "I *will* fuck you."
"Again!" Parker's frantic fingers dropped down to his belt buckle. "One time first, and then definitely again." A belt followed the buttons into the rear seat. "And again."
Miller struggled briefly - and futilely. All that Miller's movements managed to do was to quickly dislodge his starched uniform pants. But not Parker. Parker clung like a burr in August.
"Fuck you deep, like that hot ass of yours is just begging for!"
Miller's briefs - and Parker's - followed their shirts and trousers over to the back seat.
"Spread `em." Parker ordered. "Assume the position!"
By the time Miller found himself with his legs over his shoulders on the front bench the power of the ray had utterly overwhelmed his resistance. He knew he was going to be fucked - and fucked hard - and the greater part of his ray-maddened mind welcomed it.
He felt Parker's callused fingers grip his ass cheeks wide, spreading them, opening the path for the hard length of the man's flame-hot cock. As the flared head nudged at the ring of muscle, Miller realized that he was going to be taken now. And taken dry. And that Parker's wide male meat would rip into him even as he had ripped in to O'Doul just so brief a time before.
The memory of O'Doul's pained walk afterwards cut fleetingly though the pink haze of lust. But only fleetingly. With the last slipping bit of his rationality Miller gasped. "Please." He searched for reason in Parker's lust glazed eyes. "Use something!"
"What?" Never taking his eyes from Miller's body, Parker fumbled one handed though the glove compartment. "Nothing there. You're just gonna have to take it as it comes."
Still, Parker's cock did pull back. Just for a moment. And then Parker pressed one finger between Miller's lips.
Taking the hint, Miller swirled his tongue around the digit. If this was all he was going to get...?
Parker drew his hand back. "Good Sarge.
Miller whimpered as the spit slick finger drove pressed into his back passage. His last thought before the pink haze overwhelmed him was - What a day to forget the donuts!
Chapter 32: Oh Oh - On the Radio
"Shafter!"
" Yes?" The FBI agent rushed over.
"A police car just spotted the Packard." Dr. Putzoutski pressed the ear piece of his head set more firmly against his ear, trying to block out every bit of static from the flow of messages coming in over the airwaves. "Heading up the Angel's Crest Highway."
Manlove reached for his hat. "Let's go."
"But..." Putzoutski squinted at the cathode occulator, as if that was he could make out more of the message. "It sounds like they were hit with the ray."
Shafter watched carefully as Putzoutski added new lines to his tracing map."You're sure?"
"Not exactly. But when the second police car discovered them, both officers were naked. Plus?" Putzoutski looked over at Wang. "The propositioned their rescuers."
Shafter nodded. "That sounds like the ray."
Wang looked concerned. "We can help you follow these criminals, but if they use that ray on you?" The dire result was left unstated.
"I'm protected." Shafter made a slight backwards gesture. Nothing rude - just enough so Wang would understand."But I'm afraid Mr. Manlove..."
Manlove tossed Shafter his hat on the way to the door. "Don't worry about me."
Shafter picked up the radio tracker and followed the actor down the hall, frowning. "If that ray hits you..." Shafter want quite sure *what* would happen - at least not in detail - but he was fairly certain it wouldn't be good. Not for the mission, and not for himself.
"Then I'll act like it didn't." Manlove waited until the FBI man passed through the door, then shut it behind them. "I'll drive."
"But?" Shafter hesitated, his hand on the passenger door of the Cadillac. Self control was all very fine - in theory - but given how poorly his own had lasted?
Granted that was because Richard Long was *exceptionally* attractive. And kind. And charming. And intelligent. And...well... just exceedingly Dick. Shafter was still rock-hard in his conviction that he was *not* - just in general - inclined to sleep with just any man. Or just any woman, for that matter. But he wasn't certain he could say the same for Manlove. While he didn't think of himself as the suspicious type - at least, no more so then any FBI agent would naturally be - he was beginning to suspect that the actors friendship for young Billy was not entirely one of paternal affection. And given the rather stiff way that the boy had been walking last night? Shafter was definitely inclined to believe the virtues of monogamy.
"Agent Shafter" Eric Manlove settled into the drivers seat and cranked the engine. "In my long and stories career I have broken contracts, broken hearts, and on occasion broken bones. But I have *never* broken character!"
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
As the brown Packard pulled away from the now-sidelined police car, the man in the passengers seat once again reached for the strange looking radio set.
"Base?" The gangster named Joe dialed rapidly though the frequencies, looking for the alien signal. "Base, this is car one. Come in."
There was a burst of static before the voice of Spaceman Tanna crackled out of the set. "Car one, explain your delay!"
"We had a little trouble, but we took care of it."Joe glanced back at the black and white. At this distance the details were vague, but he thought the could make out the tan blur of bare legs in the front windshield. "We're coming in."
"We will be waiting." Not the warmest answer, but since she wasn't spouting threats? Joe figured he was ahead of the game.
"Just keep yer tunnel open, boss lady." Joe grinned at his driver. "Car one out."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"I have the trace." Shafter kept his voice level and his eyes focused on the radio tracker as Eric Manlove quickly steered his car down the rugged road. "North by Northwest."
"Hummmm." Manlove pressed on the accelerator. "Sound's like a movie."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Fifteen minutes later the brown Packard squealed to a halt at sheer rock face that cut an abrupt end to the narrow dirt road.
The drive honked twice. Waited. Then honked twice again.
The cliff face sparked, then vanished. Now, instead of a jagged but unbroken strata of red rock, a narrow doorway marked the entrance to a steeply slanted tunnel that descended into the seemingly endless darkness below.
The gangster drove slowly onto the tunnel, following the twisting roadway marked only by the faintest of bio- luminesant flares, until the car came to a slightly wider section carved out cave. The boss gangster set the parking brake and stepped out. "You get the Doc, Joe." He tossed the keys to the shorter gangster. "I'll go tell *mother* we're home."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"Damn!" Shafter forced the panic out of his voice. "I've lost him!"
"No surprise." Manlove steered skillfully around yet another hairpin turn on the mountain road. "Bad place for radio." Pulling onto the shoulder, he helped Shafter hook up Dr. Wang's Copulatronic Detector Device. "Let's just hope this thing works better."
"Yeh." Shafter answered, but in his heart he mourned. If they could detect the ray, that meant that it was in use. And if it was in use? His Dick was already in enemy hands. Who knew what evil things the alien foe might do with the scientist's balls!
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"So" Force-Commander Erros sneered down at the battered scientist. "This is the presumptive earthling who thought to mettle in the affairs of his Masters."
Long hung limply between two huge spacemen. His blond hair hung in his eyes, obscuring the undimmed intellect that burned equally with his rage.
The gangster gave Richard Long a nudge. "Don't look like much now, does he boss?"
"I don't know." Erros ran one pudgy hand down the captured scientist's backside. "Perhaps we could still find some... resilience.. in him." He emphasized his worlds with a brief, brutal squeeze of Long's crotch, forcing an involuntary gasp.
Longs captors chuckled.
Long forced up his head, ignoring the jeering troopers around him. "I kept my word. I brought you the Orb." He met Erros's haughty gaze, unblinking. "Where are my people?"
"You're people?" Tanna snorted, as if to state that such a creature could have no claim to *any* other. "You mean the female creatures and the boy? We have them right here. " She gestured at the rear of the cavern, it's gray rock broken here and there with heavy metal doors. "Unharmed." With a significant look at Erros,she added. "For now."
Long strained against the troopers. "You promised!"
Erros smiled. "I lied."
Chapter 33: Going Down on the Enemy
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"It's working." Ash Shafter moved the dials until the bright pink point centered itself in the dark blue screen.
Eric Manlove pulled back onto the mountain road."Good." He pressed down on the accelerator.
"Perhaps." The FBI man was torn. The signal meant that they still could hope to find the stolen scientist before Long was destroyed by the alien foes who held him prisoner, but it also meant that the pink ray was now at work. A bad thought, given that Shafter had seen the effects of that alien vibration on innocent human flesh. A worse thought, since he knew who the current victim must surely be.
Of course, Manlove too had someone he cherished at risk. The actor's youthful ward had been taken by criminal servants of the aliens - kidnapped this very morning from Richard Longs comfortable home - and who could say what fate awaited the innocent youth at the invaders cruel hands?
Perhaps they should have been more careful. More suspicious. Less certain of their safe suburban insularity. Well, that was the past. However Shafter might condemn himself, the past was beyond any man's power.
All they could do now was hurry to the rescue - and pray that they weren't too late.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"I will never talk!" Long glared at the alien woman who clutched his ball in her whitened fingers. Fortunately, none of the aliens had spotted Dr. Wang's deception. They believed the azure orb to be the real thing.
That had lead to a heated- if low voiced - debate. The large man - to judge by his manner at least officially in charge - wanted to rush his prize back to wherever the aliens had come from and there claim some unspecified rewards. The thin woman urged caution - or at least strategy - urging her superior to make use of the orb locally.
Long would have preferred to agree with the woman. After all, every delay increased the Earth force's chances for victory - and his own chances for rescue. Unfortunately, the space woman's chief method of inquiry had been to interrogate *him*. First with words - which he ignored. Then with slaps - which he could endure. Her sharp nails had left furrows down his cheeks - some deep enough to bleed - but Long had not worried that such simple force could break him. He was neither vain not a coward. Even if her nails left scars he knew that it would not truly matter. Shafter would love him *more* for that proof of his courage.
When the simple had clearly failed the aliens had moved onto the exotic. First a long thin shaft which shot electrical sparks. So far it had only been applied to his back - with the expected pain but no real effect on his resolution. Long sent up a small prayer for the aliens lack of imagination. In his own hands that toy could have had any man screaming by now - and not necessarily from pain.
Long made a mental note to try and capture the device for analysis after the Terran victory. He insisted mentally that they would be victorious. It was inevitable, Shafter was in charge - and Ash Shafter was not a man to fail!
After pain failed they had moved on to some variant of the pink ray. Not unexpected. The aliens and their criminal servents had shown no hesitation at using the indecent power of the ray on far more innocent targets.
Fortunately Long was still protected. Although he had had the good sense to moan and thrash convincingly, he had kept his tongue from anything as injudicious as actual *words*. If anything, the waves of induced sexuality had bought him precious time. Time for Shafter to trace him. Time for the FBI and the Navy and whoever else was needed to rally and to destroy this alien evil.
Even so - no protection was perfect. The scientist had to concede - at least to himself - that his moans and gasps were not entirely faked. This was not Long's first exposure to the orgasmatronic forces. He - like any ethical scientist - believed that one should willingly risk ones own experiments. He had subjected himself to the developmental Terran version of the ray - both with and without protection. This alien version was far stronger - or more advanced - then anything Long had sen in the lab. Plus, a stronghold full of alien foes did not provide the ... sympathetic medical attention... that Wang's well managed lab had offered for post-ray recovery.
Long hoped that Shafter would come well armed - but he also prayed that he would come *soon*. And they they would both leave - and *COME* - together quickly thereafter.
As a delaying tactic the `floor show' had worked well for a few minutes, but then the alien leader grew impatient. Or perhaps bored. "The creature knows nothing!"
"Let me take him to my lab." The alien woman's voice wavered between demand and placation. "Let me use my table of investigation. Then he will talk!"
"Bah!" Her leader dismissed her. "If I thought rape would break him - I would do it myself."
He gestured at two of his soldiers, who forced the ray-struck Long to his unsteady feet.
Erros reached down sliding an intrusive hand over the earth scientist's chest. "Perhaps I shall do so anyway. "Erros gripped the scientist's trousers, crushing his swollen balls. "As his reward if he speaks."
"Never." His voice cracked on the word. Long licked his lips, desperate for enough moisture to spit at he trespasser.
"Then perhaps you should use that mouth or some other purpose." The grip on the scientist's balls tightened. "Since the words I want to hear have not come out?" Erros waved, and the guards pushed the scientist back to his knees. "Perhaps something else should go *in*?"
Erros reached under the front flap of his velvet tabard.
Long closed his eyes, refusing to acknowledge the reality of the sticky warmth that pressed against his cheek. He knew that he should simply accept the invading organ. That he should think of this as one more torture. Once more chance at delay. He had known all he risked when he volunteered for this mission. Known, and counted his own pains as nothing compared to the good of his nation and his world. But now? With this mass of corpulent foulness contrasted so vividly with his recent happy memories of his beloved `Hard Ass'.? Not only his mind but his flesh itself rebelled against the comparison.
Long turnd his head.
A thick fingered hand forced it back.
He clamped his jaw.
The course fingers tightened.
Matters might have proceeded differently had the third Gangster - the driver- not also have been watching the proceedings. Unlike the aliens, his attention had not been entirely on the floor show. Or perhaps it had - before - and it was simply the LA man's greater knowledge of local ways which mad the difference. Perhaps his ignorance of Erros's harshest ways made him bold. Whichever it was, the gangster stepped forward now.
"Boss?" The zoot suited man peered closely Richard Long's hand. "What if this ain't the guy you want?" Under Erros's angered gaze the gangster hesitated briefly then pressed on. "I mean? You could still fuck him and all if that's what you want, but if he ain't talking cause he ain't got nothing to say?"
"What?" Erros's eyes narrowed. "Speak clearly, earthling!"
"Look at the ring." The driver forced up Long's hand, turning the wrist so the heavy jewel pointed to the alien commander. "This chum ain't no science type. This is a filthy Fed!"
"What?" This time it was the woman who asked. Her tone was calmer but no less demanding.
"A suit! A snoop! A copper! A nark!" The driver's hands waved frantically, trying to convey by gesture what he failed in words.
Tanna forced up Long's chin. "You are a servant of the local authority?"
Long said nothing, but his swollen lips twisted up in a pained smile.
"I bet he's wired!" The gangster ripped at Long's shirt. "Look!" He pulled at the thing line of metal that trailed down Long's back to disappear under his belt.
Alerted, more guards made quick work of Long's belt. Then his trousers.
Soon the glaring Tanna had her hand between Long's bare thighs, detaching the spherical radio transmitter. She looked at Erros. "Oh wise Commander." Her tone was biteing. "Did you not question that this Terran had *three*? Now it is we who are in danger."
Outraged, Erros knocked Long to the ground.
"Take him to the cells!" Erros strode quickly to the row of view screens. "If this earth creature's trick causes my brilliant plan to fail, the others responsible," his look included Tanna, "shall also be... punished."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Meanwhile, only a few hundred feet away, the car bearing Eric Manlove and Ash Shafter coasts smoothly to a stop. They have followed the signal, but now it has led them to the dead end of a seemingly impenetrable cliff.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Shafter steeped slowly out of the car. "It looks like solid rock." He pressed his palm to the jagged rock face.
"And my backyard looks like Buckingham Palace." Manlove set the hand brake. " Welcome to Tinsel Town."
"There was a car here." Shafter walked back, frowning as his eyes traced tire marks right up to the seemingly solid cliff. Tire tracks for one car. In one direction. Very strange. "Recently." The marks wouldn't have stayed so clear overnight in the dry local dirt.
"Think it was the Packard?"
"It could be." Shafter knelt down by one rutted track. "The tires are right." He ran one roughened finger lightly over the dusty indentations. "Deep tread, too." Didn't look like retreads. "About right for a get-away car." Few other guys would buy *four* new tires for an old car. Not with cash tight like it was. Only a crook - who couldnt risk a flat - whould peel off the green for that.
Although where that car was now? He looked around. Cliff on one side. Gully on the other. Deep grass and scrub pine. Enough to tear up a car if someone tried to drive out over the broken ground, but hardly enough to hide a vehicle.
"The gangster's might have walked out - although if they were carrying...?" Shafter refused to finish that sentence with `a body'.
Besides, that too would have left marks. There were no foot prints. No scuff marks where foot prints might have been. Only the clean single track. They had to have backed up somehow. Backed up so carefully that the car didn't leave a second track. No driver could do that for long. So? Shafter nodded to himself. They had to be hiding Long nearby.
"Keep an eye out," he warned Manlove as the actor paced slowly back to the Cadillac. "This place could be guarded."
Manlove reached for the radio. "Do you think we should call for backup?"
"Not if ya know what's good for you." A rough voice growled out o the nearby shrubbery.
Manlove turned, only to be met by a beefy fist - and the fight was on!
There were three men. Judging by their pin-striped suits Shafter figured they thought there were `toughs'. Judging by their fists? Shafter jumped back, just softening a blow to the gut that would have stunned most men. He figured they'd come by their tag honestly. Well. Shafter punched back, catching the shortest of the three on the chin. Make that dishonestly. He leaned back against the car, freeing his leg to kick a second crook. Same thing.
The third punk was facing off with Manlove - and having a hard time of it. Apparently all that fan rag hype about `Erring Eric' doing his own stunts wasn't just hype. The man had some moves Shafter hadn't seen since Quantico. Plus a few more he had never seen at all.
Shafter would have liked to watch, but his own two were keeping him busy. One more punch and the short guy in the brown suit was down for the count. Good. But his fellow had taken the opening to get under Shafter's outstretched arm with a nasty rib shot. Bad. Shafter desperately needed a chance to catch his breath but he wasn't getting it. Three more punches. Two barely missing and the last landing with enough force to numb his shoulder. If that had been higher? Or lower?
Shafter risked another kick. Not Queensberry, but this was no time to play by the rules. Not when his Dick was on the line!
He caught the gangster on the knee, forcing the criminal back. Good. Now if he could only move in before the other man recovered.
Shafter's fist shot out.
The gangster dodged. Enough to lighten the blow, but not enough to escape completely. And not enough to escape Manlove's second blow, which came without warning from behind.
Shafter's sense of fair play should have been shocked. Too bad for these punks that playing fair was *not* what either Shafer or Manlove had in mind.
Manlove looked down at the three now- unconscious bodies. "Think they know where Long is?"
"We'll ask when they wake up." Shafter pulled off his tie, using it to bind one of the gangster's hands.
Manlove did likewise.
Tossing the first two into the trunk, Shafter came back with a rope for the third. "In the mean time, we look for their hide-out." He bound the third gangster, then dumped him into the back seat. The trunk was full. "It can't be far."
"True." Manlove turned on the radio, calling Wang and giving their address. Whatever happened, the good doctor would want to have a talk with these three. Manlove only hoped that he could be around for it. Or- failing that - that there would be something left for him when the doctor was done. National interest was all very well and good, but Manlove had a few interests of his own that he intended to protect.
Perhaps he should invite the lad to help? Many Master's preferred to keep their submissives entirely.... submissive. Fine in theory, but Manlove considered that *every* person deserved some respect. If they never got the chance to redress *legitimate* grievances? Well, there was a fine line between mastery and oppression.
Even the fluffiest French Poodle still had teeth. A detail that a younger Manlove had learned the hard way. Now a wiser man, he had come to respect that truth of nature. No, the actor decided. While his boy had to learn true service, the lad would be ill served if Manlove allowed young Billy to soften into a pansy. Redressing the matter with these bits of human debris would be the perfect opportunity to demonstrate the difference.
Manlove slammed to car door.
The gangster in the back seat shook, but did not wake. Down for the long count, Manlove decided.
Shafter was back by the road, studying the now-scattered remains of the tread marks. Three men were all that had been seen at the museum. All that had been in the cop car when O'Doul had been hit. If Long was near? He might be unguarded. Good. But then why wasn't Long coming to meet them. The FBI man frowned. His Dick could be restrained. Caged. Even... he shuddered at the thought... injured. Shafter refused to think of anything worse. But...Long could even now be waiting for Shafter to come for him.
Shafter knew he would not - could not - fail.
His whole world was on the line here. Not just the planet. That too, of course, and he did care about the fate of the Earth, but also ... his other world. The world of love and peace and acceptance and security that he had never believed would be possible for a rough kid from the wrong side of the tracks. The world Richard Long had handed him on a platter. The world this pack of punks had tried to snatch from him.
He stood, hard eyes searching the roadside for any clue.
Manlove joined him.
Side by side they headed back to the cliff.
They never saw the large hole that opened in the road - right below their feet.
Chapter 34: Pit Stop
"Manlove! Behind you!" Ash Shafter struck out fiercely as the smooth-walled stone tunnel in which they had landed was suddenly filled with dozens of silver-uniformed aliens.
"Thanks!" The actor slashed back, catching the alien soldier on the chin and putting him down for the count. "To your left!"
Shafter kicked out just in time to stop three more soldiers. "Thanks!"
The aliens fell back - but not for long. Four more came up on Shafter's left left.
Manlove and Shafter fought like madmen.
Shafter knew they were outnumbered - most probably hopelessly - but he dared not weaken. These creatures had taken his Dick, and Manlove's Willie. Their ruthlessness was beyond even the cruelest of human opponents. Even if Shafter had been inclined to surrender - and he was not - he knew there would be no hope of mercy at these inhuman hands.
They must win through to their friends - or they and the Earth itself must die trying.
The battle was fierce, relentless, and - sad to say - brief. While the Earth forces were brave and strong, the aliens were numerous, and at length they overpowered our two heroes.
"Good work, men!" The chief among the aliens stepped up to the wall, pressing a button to activate the view screen.
Gray lines danced across the glass, and the Force Commander's face appeared.
"Hail Erros!" the man snapped to attention. "We have captured two more earthlings. What is your will?"
"Are you a fool?" Erros snarled. "Take them to the pit with the others."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"Tell me, Phallos " The alien sentry whispered to his comrade as he saw the two terran prisoners dragged past. " What is it about this earthling that makes his balls so special? Commander Erros is risking much to get his hands on them."
"Who knows, Annus?" The other guard checked cautiously over his shoulder before moving closer. " The ways of the leaders are often... inscrutable. But? Whatever reason he has for grasping so at the earthling's balls? " He shivered at the memory of the earlier results of the alien leader's displeasure. Erros was not one to resist sharing his...frustrations... with his underlings."Better the earth creature's balls than mine."
"True. I fear that we shall bear the thrust of Commander Erros's frustration if he fails." Spaceman Annus relaxed slightly once the heavy door closed behind the prisoners. "And Commander Farttoz's if this matter succeeds."
"True."Spaceman Phallos nodded gravely, moved by his fellow's worlds. "Such is the fate of the common soldier. We're fucked either way."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"Ash!"
Blind in the near darkness, shaken by the fall, and still staggering from the fearsome blows of the aliens, Ash Shafter had expected to crash onto the rough rock of the cell floor. Instead, he was caught up. Cushioned by strong arms. Held close.
"Dick." It took him but a moment to identify his protector. Moments of relief. Of comfort. Of joy. And then of crushing grief. Because if his Dick was here for him... then his Dick was *here*. Trapped in the evil grasp of inhuman fiends. And that - Shafter knew- was his own fault.
"I'm sorry." He felt he had to say that - pathetically inadequate though it was. But then? What words *could* be adequate to explain - much less excuse - such criminal inadequacy as Shafter knew he was guilty of. Not only had he failed his love - his failure had left the strongest of Earths' defenders into the enemy grasp and doubtless doomed the planet as well.
"No." Warm lips brushed Shafter's ear in the dimness. "I am." Richard Long slid his arm under the FBI Agent's shoulder, guiding him gently to a ledge deeper in the cell. "I thought I could fool these aliens."
Shafter shuddered. How could Long be so noble? So forgiving?
Fine tipped fingers slid delicately under the shreds of Shafter's suit. Perhaps - no, most probably, Shafter told himself - Long was simply checking for injuries. Long was a doctor, after all. A man who cared for all of humanity. Even if Long was disgusted now that Shafter had proven himself so weak... so impotent in the face of the enemy... Long's Oath alone would compel him to aid the injured.
Still, Shafter could not resist pressing into the warmth of Long's arms. If this was the last embrace he was ever to know from the man who would forever hold his heart? So be it. Even stolen - even unmerited - one moment of Richard Long's attention was a greater blessing then he had dreamed to gain from life.
Tomorrow - today - they might die. If Long rejected him Shafter knew he would surely die - aliens or no. But until that last disaster? Shafter would hold on with every last ounce of his strength.
Long pressed a light kiss to the blossoming bruise on Shafter's cheek. "I did not take into account their superior technology." Or, Long added to himself, their ruthlessness.
If he had known that last? He might still have gambled on allowing himself to be kidnapped. One man, after all, was a small enough sacrifice if it bought the chance to destroy the invaders of the planet. But he knew he would never have allowed his brave beloved to risk his own destruction by following him.
Long sat down, and eased Shafter gently against him. The alien stronghold was cold, and his bodies warmth was all he had to offer for comfort.
The creak of the door heralded a second prisoner.
"Mr. Manlove!" A younger shape stumbled forward in the darkness, arms outstretched towards the newcomer.
"Billy!" Manlove gathered up the younger man.
The actor's fingers brushed the bare skin, puffed and bruised under the rags of what so recently had been finery. Registered the fragile edge in his lad's voice, the constant shiver that came more from shock from cold. He ran one hand down to the curved muscles of buttock, and the instant and unconsidered flinch told him even more.
Manlove's heart lurched. He had known these symptoms before. Not recently. At least - not in his own world. Since `Sir Eric' had some to power he had limited his tastes to those who were... in not entirely enthusiastic... at least effectively persuaded. But this?
Dropping his voice to a whisper, Manlove pulled Billy tighter into his embrace. "Are you..." He meant to say all right but how could anyone be all right after the unspeakable crime his Billy had so clearly endured.
Billy's desperate lips cut off any further words that question might have contained. "I'm sorry too. So sorry. I tried to fight them but..."
Desperate kisses began, then fell back - as if uncertain of ongoing welcome.
That, Manlove thought, was answer enough.
"No, Billy." Eric Manlove brushed back the damp bangs, lightly kissing the forehead below. " *You* don't need to be sorry." Shrugging one-handed out of his jacket ( a difficult maneuver while still holding another, but neither Manlove or Billy were about to let go) the older man draped the cloth over his proteges shoulders.
"Then you're not mad that I..."
"Mad?" The actor chopped off the last `d' as if he would bite it. Or perhaps one of the aliens. "I'm bloody furious. But not at you, luv." Manlove ran his palms over the younger man's back, trying to transfer some of his own warmth into the shivering body. "You were my good lad. My brave lad. You have nothing to be sorry for." His tongue traced the salt trail that remained from past tears. "Whatever happened. Whatever they did. They're the ones that are going to be sorry. That I swear."
"Ladies?" Long had recovered enough to take note of the two other residents tumbled together in the far rear of the cell.
"Oui?" A faint but familiar voice answered. "Monsieur Long?"
Keeping hold of Shafter's hand, Long eased slowly towards the pair. "Miss D'Lite? Dr. Laie? Are you...?" Like Manlove he left the question open.
"We are... unharmed." Amanda Laie replied slowly, here eyes on the French woman as she answered. "At least... I am. But Fifi..."
"It is nothing. A wrenched shoulder, nothing more." Fifi pulled on every actresses trick to seem casual as she used the wall to help herself to her feet. "I am nothing. It is la belle femme I fear for." The French woman turned to Long. "You must save her if you can. Perhaps?" A sudden hope flared in Fifi's eyes. "You could convince the leader to send one of us back with his demand? It is that way in the movies, non? Then she could go." She gripped Long's arm. " So far this Erros has not had time for us, but soon he will remember his goal. Then I fear for mademoiselle. It is the knowledge of les Orbs these ... creatures... are after."
"Not without you." Amanda reached out for the other woman. "I won't leave without you. " Then she too turned to Long." Don't worry. They will get nothing from me."
"La Doctress is tres brave." Fifi cut in. Her approval was clear, but could not completely hide the fear that was also in her voice. "But for moi? I do not trust la femme estrange."
"A woman?" Long asked.
The silent interest urged the French woman to continue.
"That would be..." With Fifi's help the lady scientist struggled to her feet. "the one who did... that... to Billy."
A low growl emerged from Manlove's section of the cell.
Not hearing - or ignoring - Amanda Laie went on. "They called her Tanna. She is the Chief Alien's girlfriend. Or his secretary. Something like that. Anyway, he listens to her. Sometimes."
"Oui." Fifi agreed. "And what la bete says is never good. She speaks like a scientist. Like you or la Amanda" Fifi's had tightened on her very dear friend's. "But this one - she is evil. And I see the way she looks at moi femme ami."
"I'm sorry, Dr. Long." Billy reached out and took the man's free hand. "I fear that Miss D'Lite may have something there. These aliens are real mean. If we cant figure some way out of here? I can take it but..." Billy swallowed. "I'm scared of what they might do to the ladies."
Manlove looked over the cell as best he could in the dim light. He - or rather his screen persona's - had battled their way out of harsher looking cells. Perhaps. But those had been plaster and lathe screen sets. This was the solid rock real thing."Doesn't look like there is much of way out."
"Not necessarily." Shafter glanced back at the small barred entrance. "If we could lure the guards in here? I could maybe take a few. Delay them, at any rate. I won't go down easy. Give you a chance to grab a weapon. Run for it."
"No." Long's tone was firm. "I won't leave you."
"You may have to." Shafter was equally firm. "Better one man lost than an entire planet. If my death will save you and the earth..."
"I understand, my brave love, but... no." Long moved to the center of the small cell, gathering all the other's around him. Billy and Manlove on one side. Amanda Laie and D'Light on the other. "It's not yet hopeless." He said, his voice pitched low. He did not want anyone outside the cell to hear this. "I still have the transmitter. If Wang is alert? If he has any suspicion of our circumstances?"
"He should." Manlove answered, his tone equally soft. "I called him - just before we ...fell..."
There was just enough light from the small opening or Long to see Shafter's nod of agreement.
"Good. I've had a lot of experience with Wang in the past. He won't go soft on us." Long allowed himself a small smile. "We just have to keep it up... and hope for the best."
Chapter 35: An Alien Probes for Answers
"Is the Rod ready to be moved?" Force Commander Erros gazed vaguely at the still-dark Electro-Viewscreen of his private office as he hefted the blue orbs, one in the palm of each hand. "Once we report this, Farttoz will demand that we take the Rod to the ship for testing."
"Then Farttoz will make the report to Central Command. "Deputy Tanna ran her hand possessively along the gleaming length of the gold shaft, allowing her fingertips to revel in the smooth coolness of the rich coral head. "Do you think we shall be mentioned? He alone shall receive the reward."
The wheels on the heavyset aliens's upholstered leather chair squealed at the sudden force as Erros shoved back from his desk. "Should you not have thought of this earlier?"
"I did." Tanna let the remark sit for a moment before adding the politic "Oh Great Leader." At this deepening frown she added quickly. " As have you." She pulled down her neckline slightly as she made her way to where her Commander was sitting. Any distraction would be useful - for this was not time for the fool to start thinking on his own. "I know you are only testing me with these questions." She bent to give him a good view. "You know that we shall test it here." She let her hand slide casually into his lap. "Once it has been proved, and the first of the earthling cities is in our... your grasp?" closing her fingers, she watched his eyes until the interest flared, then she finished. " It shall be *you* who informs Central Command of your triumph."
"Indeed, Tanna." Erros's expression brightened, half because he now *had* direction, and half because that direction appeared to lead in the direction of pleasure and reward. "I see you have... read my mind." She must have, he decided. No lower ranking officer could possibly come up with a plan that their superiors had not considered first. "But?" He frowned again as her fingers withdrew from his lap. "How do you imagine I plan to learn enough to make this test? Even with all we have gathered, the engine we have will not give us enough power."
"From the earthlings, of course. You know that they know the secret of the Rod." She stood up. No need to give more then one though to a creature like Erros - and just now that he was doing as she wished his mind should stay on the mission. "Why else would you have been so foresightful as to capture them?"
"Indeed, Tanna" Eros congratulated himself on the foresight of what *must* have been his plan all along. "You are an excellent.... student." He gave her a swift but sincerely felt salute. "I shall see you share in all that comes from this."
She stood to attention, returning the gesture in her best parade-ground manner. If that stance thrust out her bust? All the better. "I live to serve my Leader - oh Leader."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Erros stormed into the hall outside the Terran's cell, guards on either side and Tanna hurrying just behind him.
At his command the cell door was thrown open.
"Drag them out!"
The guards did so, leaving the six humans shocked and blinking at the sudden light.
Erros held up the blue Orbs. "Which one of you was the holder these balls. Speak - or you all suffer."
Richard Long was about to step forward, but Fifi D'Lite sunk an elbow in his ribs - thus stopping his breath - and spoke up first. "Moi." She shook off Amanda Laie's hand, which had reached out either to comfort or to deter. No time for that now. If she waited, one of these foolishly chivalric Americans would destroy them all. No! The doctors they must have if they were to save the earth. The man named Shafter they must have if they were to save the scientists. Manlove she must save, because if she did not she would never work in this town again. Billy, because Manlove would demand it, and because the boy had suffered too much already. Therefore? She straightened her shoulders. pulled the tattered remains of her uniform more tightly around her, and stepped forward. "C'est Moi! I am the one you seek."
"Fifi." Too ...was it horrified?.. to say more, the American woman rushed up.
Fifi embraced her. "Hush." she whispered in her new-found lover's ear. "Play along. I know nothing - so nothing they shall gain."
"They..." Ash Shafter stepped forward, a look of stoic stubbornness settling on his chiseled features.
"Whatever they do" she hissed at him, "It shall not matter. You know that," She saw the knowledge come into his eyes as he fell back. "I shall try to stay silent. If I can not? My answers will only confuse them and buy us time."
"No!" Amanda shook her head. "Fifi!"
"Please, mon cheri." Fifi raised the other woman's hand to her cheek. "They can do nothing to me that I can not survive - except to hurt you. To see you suffer? That would kill my heart."
"But I..." Richard Long came up as Shafter fell back .
"Dare not risk their questions again" Fifi finished for him. "If you break, we are doomed."
"Stop this conspiracy!" Outraged, Erros motioned at the nearest guards to bring Fifi forward. "You shall speak only to me!" He snarled down at the blond maid. "And you shall say only what *I* wish to hear."
"This is the one we want." Erros pointed. "Take her to the interrogation chamber."
"Are you sure, my leader?" One of the lab guards that had been her assistant asked Tanna quietly. "The earthling agents said this one was a servant of some sort."
"Moi?" Fifi stood up even straighter. "Do I look like these others? Sound like then? Was my dress like their's?"
Tanna frowned. Not that she would place any trust in the words of a lesser being, but it *was* true that leaders showed their rank by such signs. Plus, such courage would soon see a creature of the lesser decks either *not* a servant - or dead. Most likely dead, of course, but still?
"She speaks truth, Deputy Leader." One of the other guards added - also to Tanna." When the prisoners came from the automobile? The others were in bright colored and loose clothes, but hers was well tailored and dark - much like a uniform. She must be in a position of command."
Fifi snorted. "Of course I am their leader!" She looked the female alien straight in the eyes. " Why else would a young woman who looks like moi come to California - to this place of so-hot climate - if it were not to conduct important scientific research?"
"That is logical, my deputy." Erros's nodded as if passing a significant judgment. "I will believe her. This is the only one of the earthlings that makes any sense at all."
"Then, oh so important scientist." Tanna gave the French woman a superior sneer. "You will confess how you got your hand on these balls - and how you have manipulated them."
"Never!" Fifi threw out her arms in a classic B-movie gesture. "I am loyal to my planet."
"Tanna!" Erros growled. "Do your duty."
Tanna saluted. "At once, Leader!"
Fifi stepped between the alien guards with her head held high. "Do your worst, you shall gain nothing from me."
"To the interrogation chamber!" Tanna snarled at the guards. "Your Leader gave you a command. Why do you wait?" As they moved to obey, she added, "And bring the others along as well. These creatures are weak and emotional. If they see each other's suffering? It will loosen *someone's* tongue."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Fifi bit her lip, suppressing a whimper as one more steel-hard alien stepped between her thighs and drove without further warning into her tender depths.
She knew that Amanda could not hear her. She was glad for that. They had still been together when Tanna had commanded her guards to thrust the others into something she called the `Sphere of Silence'. Still, she would not give her tormentors the satisfaction of making her scream. Nor would she give any other sign that her Amanda might see. Nothing that would increase the pain she knew the other woman must now suffer.
She tried to steady her breathing. This was the fifth. She had long past given up counting strokes, but the changing of the guard was still enough to break her concentration on... *not* feeling.
Merde! Fifi twisted hopelessly against the unyielding shackles that kept her stretched helplessly on the stone table. Either the alien soldiers had no women among them, of this one just loved his work. She had not had to take it this cruelly since... well... since that first `audition' back when she had been young enough to dream of being a *screen* actress.
Still. She must be glad, she told herself. Glad because if she suffered, her beloved Amanda did not. Focus on that, she told herself. Focus on the future, on the hope of rescue, on a place where her beloved femme would never again have to endure the rude masculine touch, but would be comforted by the true love of one who would endure anything for her sake.
She must be glad, too, that her many years in Hollywood had taught her to be an actress of sorts. Not on the stage, no, but often daily and for audiences only slightly less vicious then the monsters she must deceive today. They could strip her. They could chain her. They could rape her. They could not break her spirit. If that could be done? It would have been done long past.
The fifth guard finished, bringing her back to reality with the sharp bite of his gloved hands clawing into her legs as he spewed acid-hot into her bruised center.
Number six would have come, but Deputy Tanna held up her hand. "Later."
The alien female stepped up to the side of her prisoner "Ha!" She gave Tanna's nipple a hard twist. "Not so proud now, earthling?" Her hands moved harshly between Fifi's thighs until one finger rested on the swollen opening. "Will you now tell us what we want to know about your experiments with the Orbs?" Tanna drove her finger between the maids lower lips, scooping up a bit of the alien semen. "Or perhaps?" She raised the finger to Fifi's cracked lips, thrusting it between them so that Fifi had no choice but to taste the rancid fluid. "Perhaps I should *double* your punishment."
Fifi spat. "I laugh at you. I am un femme Francais! Your weak little boy soldiers are as nothing compared to the men of my people!"
"Zitch!" The slap rang though the chamber.
"Tanna!" Erros stepped forward from where he had been watching.
"She lies!" Tanna turned to her leader. "You know she lies!"
Erros refused to allow himself to look down. Of course the creature lied. Didn't she?
Leaning against the wall gave him an excuse to cross his legs without it actually being a sigh of *weakness*. He was just... acting casually and with commendable confidence. That was it.
He did not like to think that the Earth beasts could surpass the superior species in any way, but they were running out of time. Soon Farttoz would call, asking about the Orbs. If they did not have an answer? Or better yet, a triumph? He would not like to be on the *other* end of this demonstration. He moved closer to Tanna. "Then why does she not break?"
Tanna rubbed her chin. "Perhaps it has something to do with her being... what did she call herself ? French?"
"Perhaps." Erros looked the earthing over carefully. While he saw nothing particularly impressive about this specimen, he had to acknowledge there was just the *slightest* chance that he might not know everything. Of course, if *he* did not know it? Then it was self-evident that no one did. "Perhaps there is something about this species which your so-proclaimed research has not uncovered."
"As you judge - my Leader." Tanna bowed. She was in trouble, and a salute might not be enough to mollify Erros. And - for now- he was still commander here. " But!" she added hopefully. " Whatever it is - it need not interferer with your triumph." She pointed at the other five, glaring at their captors from the confines of the force chamber. "We have several of the Terran males. Bring them forth - and they shall get us the answers we desire."
That *might* work, Erros considered. Unless this special... whatever it was... was possessed only by French males as well. But? He did not *have* any French males - whatever those were - and he did not know where he could find one. Even if he could, to fetch one there would likely be more delay then he was willing to risk. No - they must get the Rod working at full capacity - and they must do so now! He gave Tanna his most commanding scowl. "And if they prove as stubborn as this one?"
Tanna smiled cruelly. "The pink ray shall insure that they do not!"
Chapter 36: Manlove Gives It to Her (a message, that is.)
"Oh ghod!" A weeping Amanda Laie tried to rush forward as the barrier dropped, only to be pushed back by the alien guards. "Fifi!"
Tanna unhoulstered her ray gun and strode over to the circle of energy where the five remaining human's were imprisoned. "Now. Which one of you shall be next?"
Ash Shafter stood also - moving in front of Dr. Laie. A hopeless gesture, he knew, but also one he knew he must try. He could not be a man - much less a man worthy of the regard of another man - if he stood back and let a woman face the enemy first.
Richard Long moved up to stand beside him.
"We can hold out." Shafter whispered. "But..." He gave Eric Manlove a significant look as the older man stood his ground in front of Billy.
*They* could hold out, Shafter knew, because they still had the protection of the Pearls of Osiris. Manlove did not. He knew the older man had promised that he could `act' unaffected.
Shafter shook his head slowly. Sorry. No dice. While Shafter did not doubt the older man's word he did doubt his conclusions. Nobody was that great a talent. It didn't matter *how* many little statues they collected. This wasn't the silver screen any more.
Then there was Billy. Even more of a worry. Long hadn't seen fit to share the medical details, but Shafter had read the anger that crossed the brilliant doctor's features as a shivering Billy had whispered his story. That told the FBI man enough. The young man had already suffered terribly at the hands of the invaders. Drained as he was? Shafter doubted that - brave though he might be - the lad could withstand much more.
Not to mention? Shafter glanced over his shoulder at the pale-faced lady scientist. What would happen to a woman under that dreadful beam?
While Shafter was watching the space men, Long searched the wall of alien artifacts. "I need to..."
"No!" Amanda set one hand on each man's shoulder. "Don't tell them anything!" She cast a pained glance across the rocky chamber, not quite letting her eyes settle at the source of both love and grief. "We have given to much to falter now."
Long reached back, patting her fingers. "I have a plan. If I can only get a message to Fifi."
Shafter realized immediately how the scientist planned to do that.
Shafter's eyes narrowed as he whispered back, "The risk." Long was tough. None tougher. And he was brave. None braver. Shafter knew that. But if the aliens could find some was to make the doctor talk? Not likely, knowing Long, but they dared not take the chance. The fate of world rested on one man's silence. Shafter said no more - but his eyes said it for him.
"I'll do it." Manlove whispered something in Billy's ear, then stepped up in front of the company. "Let `em hit me."
Long frowned. Unlike the rest of Hollywood, he knew the actor's medical history. Indeed, that had been one of the starting places of their friendship. And while Laie had done the main work with the police man, Long had read enough on the other experiments to suspect what the pink ray could do to human physiology. "Manlove." He gave the older man a searching look . "Your heart?"
The actor glanced back at the young boy still huddled on the floor. "I'm leaving that here with you."
Striding boldly to the edge of the cage, Manlove struck his best Marion Morrison pose. "Cummon, Space-lady." He paused to let Tanna appreciate the effect his curled lip. "Hit me with whatever ya think ya got."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Thirty seconds later the actor was staggering across the uneven stone floor, his features a veritable mask of animal lust.
Snarling at the alien guards until they instinctively fell back, he launched himself full length upon the near-naked form of his maid.
"Sorry , Miss D'Lite." Manlove whispered as his hands clawed dramatically at the stone to each side of her chest. "The doc said to give you a message."
"Oui?" she whispered back, thrashing wildly. He blond hair flew out, forming a cover for them both.
Manlove pressed hot kisses to the slab of stone beside her ear. "Pretend to break."
"Monsieur?" The stiffening of her body was real - and from shock - but with luck the aliens would interpret it as pain.
"Tell them you'll talk." Manlove twisted like a madman, biting the space confoundingly near her neck. "When they ask you about the rod - tell them this..." He humped his hips wildly, pumping the air between her outspread legs.
The rest of his instructions were covered my her impressive range of screams.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"No more!" Fifi D'Lite called out to the watching aliens, he voice a beacon of pain "I can take no more! I will talk!"
"You are wise." At a wave from Erros, the alien troops pulled a clearly lust-maddened Manlove off if his victim and sent the actor spinning back into the electric force- cage.
With a smirk, he turned to the watching troops. "Let this be a lesson. The future belongs to the forces of our leader!"
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Fifi D'Lite slumped in the Commander's chair, shivering occasionally despite the warmth of the cape one of the alien soldiers had tossed over her. Her posture was weak, but her eyes were very sharp. As was her voice.
"Vous!" She pointed at one of the aliens who had been designated as lab assistants. "Tu must connect the doohickie to the transmographier."
Deputy Tanna, who stood behind the captive Terran `scientist', frowned. That was not how she would have assembled a discognative particulation unit. She glanced down at the Frenchwoman. The creature seemed confident enough. While her voice still had the harsh rasp of one who has overstressed their throat, the words that came out were strong and sharp. No hesitation. No uncertainty at the pronunciation of the more technical words. No, this was the manner of a professional both experienced and confident in their knowledge. Perhaps, Tanna conceded, there was something these aliens had discovered that their soon-to-be masters had not. Possible. Unlikely, but possible.
Still? It was Tanna's duty to see the the Orgasmatronic Induction Unit assembled correctly. Just as it would be her punishment if it were not. With a watchful eye on the Terran's expression, Tanna questioned. "That will convert the power to wave form?"
"Non!" Fifi pulled one pale hand from her cloak to wave off the idea. "For that, one must also cross wire the whatsit to the thingamabob."
Ah. Tanna acknowledged a certain relief. So *that* was the problem. Incompetent engineering staff. She had suffered from those herself. And now Tanna was certain the earth creature was not lying. No creature could do so without giving some sign - especially not a primitive dirt-deweller. The signs were always there when you knew how to watch. Tanna smiled thinly. Years on the service had given the alien woman very sharp eyes.
"Like this?" the alien engineer at the machine asked.
"Non!" Fifi straightened, as if she was about to shoot from the chair. As if only the weight of Tanna's hand landing on her shoulder restrained her. "Mais non! You must never risk starting the whatamagigger before the twiddillie bit are moving."
Still, while the creature was clearly not *lying? Tanna strode over to the wall of machinery. Waving the soldier back, she took the disputed part into her own hands. "I thought this was the doohickey?"
"That is the *gizmo*." Fifi answered without hesitation. "The doohickie is *under* the didilisquat." The hand came from the cloak again, this time with one finger pointing imperiously. "Don't you people *know* didilisquat?"
"Apparently not." Erros gave the whole scrambling crew his most imperious sneer.
He pulled his assistant to the side. "Tanna," he whispered fiercely. "Our time is running out."
"This is your fault." Tanna snarled over at the shrinking Fifi. "I swear, if you do not speak more clearly you will..."
"Non!" Fifi struggled up from the chair. Wrapping the cloak more tightly about her, she limped over to where the technicians were working. "Let me at the device. I will set it up - but..." She looked up at Erros with huge tear-filled eyes. "If I do this thing? You must promise to let my friends go."
"Of course." Erros spread his lips to show what his study of local projections told him would be considered a reassuring display of teeth. " You have my word on it."
"Merci." Fifi bent slowly to pick up a metal part. Then let it slip back down. It was clearly too heavy. "And?" She wrinkled her forehead slowly. " I will need an assistant."
One of the alien soldiers stepped forward.
"Non!" Fifi shook her head fiercely. "Your fingers are to clumsy." Fifi turned her head this way and that, obviously surveying the cavern.
"Him!" Her finger was pointing right at Richard Long.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Young men. Summer is here.
Tired of the same old vacation?
This year, why not spend your time `in the saddle'.
Go down on the range.
See the wilder side of the Wild Wild West, and find out how gay the `Gay Nineties' really were.
Come visit the friendly folks at Pink Triangle Dude ranch, here in beautiful Mesa Cahones, Nevada.
Where the women are women and the men are too.
Chapter 37: A Plan of Action
Professor Ivan Putzoutski bent down to peer closer at the green circle of his tracking screen, as if his eyes could force back the single light that had just disappeared from it's surface. That failing - as indeed he knew in his heart it must - he turned to his colleague. "Wang? We've lost them."
Wang came over, leaving his own work to rest a comforting hand on his dearest friends shoulder. "Go to the backup plan."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Fifi D'Lite almost tripped over the trailing edge of the alien cape - now worn as a skirt under Dr. Long's jacket - as she helped him lift yet another glowing glass shape into is place in the growing assemblage. Still, she caught herself before any harm was done - to her or the machine - and it did give her an excuse to whisper into the scientists's ear. "Is this how you build a sex ray?"
Did he even *know* how to build one, the voice in her mind questioned. And if he did, would he risk the chance of giving that knowledge to the enemy?
"Nope," he whispered back. "But it sure as hell how you trash one."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Patrolman O'Doul had just finished putting back the dijon mustard, and was contemplating the jar of chocolate sauce when the phone rang. He answered it.
Thirty seconds later he walked back to the living room. The look on his face was solemn. "Admiral?"
One word was all that was needed to bring the other man to pull attention. "It's for you. A Professor Wang."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"We are running out of time, monsieur. I fear that your friends, they will not be here on time." Fifi D'Lite kept her face expressionless as she passed Long the last of the long pink tubes. "Do they know where we are?"
She shivered, more from the reminder of the thickness of the stone walls then from their leaching cold.
Long glanced up at the aliens. Fifi was right. Erros was shifting uncomfortable in his padded leather office chair, and the female called Tanna was pacing behind him like a hungry tigress. If he could no longer delay? He turned his attention back to the cluster of shining wires. "I guess I'll just have to send them our forwarding address."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Admiral Shaggemal pulled on his pants and headed for the door. Passing the hat rack, he plucked off the billed police cap and spun it over to the younger man. "Drop your pistol and grab your gun, O'Doul. We're headin' out."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"So." Erros paced in front of the now-finished alien machine, sneering down at the young Terran woman he believed to be the leading scientist. "This is ready?"
Fifi's voice was steady. "Oui monsieur."
Tanna frowned. "I do not trust the creature. How could she..."
A wave from Erros cut off the rest of the sentence, which was doubtless `how could she do what I can not.'. A question which interested the ambitious alien not in the least. If it worked, it worked - and Erros would gladly take the credit. If it did not? Tanna could be given the responsibility for trying again. And the punishment, if Fartozz was in a mood to demand an accounting for the delay in delivery.
Still? Erros studied the two earthlings. The earth female seemed bright enough. But that assistant she had chosen? His bland features and pale hair marked him as an idiot. Why ever had had chosen that one when there were clearly *much* more attractive prospects? Not only the interesting flame-haired one, but that other one. The fighter. Those are the ones that Erros would have chosen for any `project'. Perhaps the creature had hidden talents? Certainly the one Tanna had chosen as a `persuader' - the one Erros would have dismissed as elderly - had proved to have an impressive - even remarkable - vigor. Erros made a mental note to... look into... this aspect of the earth captives at he earliest convent date. Once the annoying but important detail of actually *conquering* the miserable dirt-ball of a planet was out of the way.
In the mean time? He had is old standby. Threats. "Know, earth creature, that if you have failed me your punishment will be... unspeakable."
Mostly because Erros couldn't think of anything particular to say at that point. No matter, He had faith he could come up with something - once his mind was less occupied.
Perhaps, he thought, he should have put a bit more into it. The earthing female seemed unmoved. Or confident. "Start the power, and you will*see* it work."
"Excellent." Erros smiled sincerely as his soldiers dragged the two earthlings back to their friends in the force cage. "Then we will test it ... on all of you!"
"Non!" Fifi gasped. "You promised you would free them!"
The alien leader's smile grew broader. "I lied."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
A man in the uniform of a full Colonel saluted as the Admiral stepped out onto the dirt road. "The men are in position."
"Excellent." Admiral Shaggemal signaled to O'Doul to stay close behind him. You needed someone you could trust at your back - especially in a tight operation like this. "Do you have the alien base marked?"
Dr. Putzoutski looked at his portable scanner and shook his head. "Not close enough. We need that signal."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Fifi clutched at Richard Long's shoulder. "What does this do to your plan?"
The good doctor smiled viciously. "Perfects it."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
The police Lieutenant waiting by the command car turned to Admiral Shaggemal. "What do we do?"
"We wait." Shaggemal scanned the dry landscape, mentally matching every detail of the aliens resources with the forces he had arrayed against them. They were strong, but without more information? Without knowing exactly where in this rocky terrain the aliens were hidden He dared not risk an ill-chosen assault. "We trust our people and we wait." He didn't add `and pray'. He didn't have to. Everyone here understood the grim necessity of the battle to come.
Dr. Wang nodded. "Richard Long will find a way to signal us."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
The heavy shaft of the alien device turned slowing towards them. At the tip was the Rod of Ra, it's coral head pulsing with potent power.
"Manlove - get Billy." Richard Long checked the scent with narrowed eyes. "Amanda - you're with Fifi here." Another glance, this time harsh enough to get the two couples named scrambling into each other's arms. "Shafter, you're with me."
Not soft words - but these were not soft times. Shafter understood. And obeyed. In seconds the last rags of his clothing were on the floor.
"When that ray hits?" Long shed his own rags, passing them to the ladies to serve as a sort of mattress. "Get humping like the fate of your nation depends on it - because it does."
Chapter 38: The Thrilling Climax (of the plot, I mean)
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"FIRE!" The evil alien shouted his command.
Obediently, this minions sent the pink ray probing deep into the pit.
"Foolish earthlings." Erros pointed one chubby finger at the captives. "Now you shall be the first to know the potency of the superior species!
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Deliberately ignoring the leering aliens, Amanda Laie gathered the French girl into her arms. "Come, my sweetness"
"Oui!" Fifi rolled forward, catching Amanda's lips below her own. "Any time I can. But why? I mean - why now?"
Amanda slid lower. "Feedback." The sound muffled by Fifi's flesh, but skin transmission conveyed enough to let the other woman understand. "Just like this." She licked lightly at Fifi's snatch even as she offered her own. " Two attuned forces can..." her tongue flicked, and Fifi moaned, "create a loop. Given enough input the receiver will...". Amanda licked again. "Explode."
Fifi did so.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
On the hills overlooking the alien base, the Earth's forces were pulling together.
General Ardor frowned, looking out over the barren chaparral of the LA highlands. " I feel the thrust of our operation is pressing closer. We may have to push our forces into that tight crevasse unless...."
Dr. Wang nodded solemnly. "Long finds a way to open a crack for us?"
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Meanwhile, back in the cave, Billy peered nervously at Eric Manlove. "Sir?" Billy shuddered from more then the caves cold as he felt his mentors hands slide between his legs to cup the young man's already depleted balls.
"You heard the Doctor." Manlove's fingers traveled on, seeking the reddened hole. Also sore - as Billy's wince proved. Well, Manlove thought, more then one way to skin a cat. Or to make one howl.
Manlove arched up wrapping his legs around his pet's waist. A powerful twist of thighs, and Billy was spun half-circle on the older man's body. Eye to eye with... well - Manlove's *other* eye.
Billy almost swallowed his tongue from the surprise.
Then he almost swallowed something else.
Fortunately, Billy caught himself at the last minute. "Sir? May I?"
"Yes, Billy." Manlove thrust his cock gently towards Billy's parted
lips. "You may."
Manlove smiled. Even here - under all this stress - the boy had remembered his manners. Such a sweet pet. Manlove considered the still-soft organ that lay gently on his own chest. Should he? Why not! Manlove decided. Normally he wouldn't go for this so soon in the lads training, but under the circumstances? Besides - reward was just much a part as discipline as punishment; whatever certain clumsy oafs might think. Therefore?
He leaned forward slightly, lipping the reddened head.
"But...Sir!" Billy jerked as the roughness of Manlove's tongue flicked suddenly against his shaft. "I don't think ..."
"You don't have to, Billy." Billy shuddered again as the hot puffs of Manlove's breath contested the caverns chill for each ball. " That's what I'm here for."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
As the two men rocked rhythmically, one alien minion noticed that the pulsing pink light took on a matching rhythm. "Sir!" he whispered to his superior and fellow machinist. "The engine! She'll likely overload!"
The second machinist leaned down for a better view of he busy aliens."Me too."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"We're just waiting for the aliens to come?" Sargent Miller mopped his brow with an already-damp handkerchief. "Shouldn't we take them first?"
"We can't take them until we've got their instruments pinned down." Putoutski answered sharply. "Until then? We wait - and we trust Dr. Long to hold up his end."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"Scoot this way." Richard Long wiggled against Shafter's. And against Shafter's shaft.
The FBI agent tried to ignore that last, but it was difficult. Each increasing wave of the pink light triggered a matching wave inside his body, and as the light grew stronger so did the effect. Not to mention that this was *Richard Long* who's thighs were pressed so warmly against his. Richard Long, who had proved irresistible in the faintest after flash of the inflaming ray. Richard Long who had inducted Shafter into a school of pleasure the man had never dreamed of in what now he realized was a dull and frustrated previous life. Richard Long who by his own promising words knew even more and greater delights that Shafter was now desperate to discover. Richard long who - Shafter more then suspected - need no alien explanation for his desirability. Richard Long who Shafter realized - even hoped - that he would be beyond willing to *not* resist for the rest of their two natural lives. If not longer.
Richard Long who - not ten seconds past - had *demanded* they `hump' as if life itself depended on it.
Richard Long who now - Shafter groaned with frustration - seemed to be ignoring his partners willingness to do just that if favor of watching some alien machine.
"Long!" Shafter knew he should be proud to suffer for the good cause, but... "Wha...!"
"Sorry" Long dropped a quick kiss as he settled onto Shafter's belly. "Just needed a better angle."
Shafter considered. Their current angle felt good to him, but if Long needed more? He arched his back, raising his legs almost to Long's shoulders.
"Great!" Long approved. He slid lower, his shaft sliding down so Shafter could feel that Long too was throbbing in tune to the pulsing ray.
"Now what?" Shafter asked.
"Now?" Long stroked Shafter's balls, shifting them away from his heated hole. "Now you just... lean back and think of America."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"Commander!" Tanna looked nervously at the now-scarlet shaft. The once blue balls suspended below were now nova-white, and too bright to look upon. The brilliant pink and blue pulse half blinded her, even when she looked away. "Come!"
"Yes!" Erros reached into his trousers. "I must come!"
"Erros!" Tanna pulled on his elbow. "You must come now! With me!"
"Silence female!" Erros slapped her hand away. "Control your passions. I am the Leader here. I will decide who I will come with!"
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"Do you feel it?" Ivan Putoutski was speaking before Admiral Shagemal was even out of the car. " The pulsing. The throbbing. The growing tension that...."
The Admiral nodded. "Is that..."
"The pink ray? Yes."
Shagemal looked over at O'Doul. "Keep close. I may need you."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"I think it's having an effect!" Long whispered.
"Oh. Yes." Shafter thrust up, impaling himself further on Long's throbbing shift. He had closed his eyes, but even so the pink light was filling his vision and distracting his thoughts. He knew what Long was saying was important - that *Long* was important to this important operation - but right now the important part of Long was operating on Shafter's prostrate and... "Great effect."
"On the machine!" Long hissed."
Shafter blinked. "That too, but..."
The light flashed scarlet, then faded.
"Harder!" Long shouted at the other Terrans. "We must try harder!"
"Harder!" Shafter agreed.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
The first machinist looked at the machine in front of him. Then at his companion. "Do you feel?"
"All of us." the alien Sargent answered. "And not just us." He nodded at their superior officers. They were standing in the direct line of the ray - as were the human captives. Every one of them had at least one hand busy underneath their now-rumpled uniforms. The soldiers behind the machine were almost as distracted, both by the ray and by the vision if their inflamed superiors. He could hear his own breathing, rough and desperate. "I think this might be a good time to..." He pointed at the back door.
"Inspect the access tunnels?" the first alien asked.
"The long, dark access tunnels?" Another added. "The access tunnels with no observation ports?"
"The access tunnels with the big soft piles of blankets?
"And... medical supplies?" a third finished.
"The access tunnels that are on the other side of the big steel doors? The blast-proof doors that would protect anyone behind them from...say... an accidental explosion."
"Right!" The Sargent pointed. "Those tunnels."
"Good idea, sir!" The scattered soldiers fell into line. "Lead the way!"
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Abandoned by it's technicians, the alien machine pulsed brighter and brighter. A low hum emanated from the Orbs, which had grown almost too large for their restraining cages. The Rod of Ra strained, forcing power past the restraining ring. Unfortunately for the senior aliens, they were all too fascinated by the spectacle in the pit to consider what danger might be pressing at their rear.
All, that is, but one.
"Commander!" The alien woman tugged nervously at her superiors tunic sleeve. "The ray! It is reacting to the creatures. We must stop the feedback or..."
"Silence, Tanna. I can handle this!" Erros waved his unoccupied hand down at the coupling earthlings. The other was occupied underneath his tabbard, in a rhythmic motion that ominously kept time with the increasing light. "The power of Ra has flooded me. The Seed of Osiris is within me!" He cackled madly. " There is no man I can not handle now!"
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"Almost there!" Long shouted.
"Dig in!" Shafter answered, feeling the nearness of the explosion. "This is the last push!"
"Oui!" Fifi spun Amanda so the lady scientist landed just inches from Manlove's shaft. "Now one must push!"
Manlove slid in.
"Commander!" An alien voice cried out."The engines can not take much more!
Long grunted. "We need more power!"
Manlove paused in mid-stroke."Billy! UP!" Manlove spun around, presenting his backside to the boys now- hardened shaft. "Put your back in it boy!"
"Yes SIR!" Billy shouted.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"It's coming!" Professor Wang shouted.
"This it?" O'Doul asked the Admiral.
"All dials are at climax!" Wang ejaculated.
Shagemal pulled his companion closer, seeking what shelter there was behind the staff car. "Hold onto your balls, son. Looks like it going to be a bumpy ride!"
O'Doul shrugged. He was getting used to that.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"Erros!" Tanna pulled her ray pistol. "NOW!"
He spasmed even as the weapon struck.
She pulled his limp body behind a large rock.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
The Rod of Ra pulsed. Pink. Blue. Fushia. Turquoise. Scarlet. Indigo. Colors unseen and unseeable by human eyes. The Orbs of Osiris throbbed. In. Out. Around. Forcing power though dimensions unconceived by Terran Science.
There was a groan, as if all the earth itself was over pressed. Then a scream -so high as to near silence.
Then...
The Rod let go, it's massive ejection sending a splash of rainbow light straight into the overcast Los Angeles sky.
It was irresistible.
Literally.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Long looked up, scanning the sky now visible where the granite roof had been.
He grinned.
"Now that's what I call a big bang."
Chapter 39: I'm Ready for my Closeup.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Admiral Shagemal's face appeared at the edge of the smoking hole.
"DOWN THERE!" he shouted. "CAN YOU GET UP!"
"Again?" Manlove muttered, rolling onto his elbow. Shoving aside the scattering of twisted metal, he brushed the dust from his shirt. "OK. Positions and...."
"He means can we climb out." Long said softly, holding out the tattered shreds of what had been the actors trousers.
"Oh. Yes. Right." Manlove drew himself to his feet. He took in the utter devastation on every side of them, then the greater devastation in Long's hands. "Not like this I can't."
Looking up at the opening that had once roofed the alien stronghold, Manlove called out. "WARDROBE!!!"
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Four hours later the army was dispersed. Everyone had been sworn to silence, threatened with the FBI should they forget their oaths, and then dismissed back to their normal duties. Only the major players remained, gathered in Manlove Manor's largest sitting room. Manlove's mansion had at least as many resources as the Base - and a great deal more comfort. So after quick showers and nearly as expeditious medical attention the main players in the days drama were again together.
Wardrobe had indeed arrived. Manlove's power with the studio assured that the story of a sudden rehearsal would be... well, hardly believed but none the less unchallenged. A stone-faced costume mistress had huffed once, then dived into a truckload of trunks packed with everything from makeup to military metals. Thus the gathered company had - at least on the surface - a rather unbelievable air of fashion magazine gloss.
Shafter alone had been hesitant to accept any gifts, siting the Agencies regulations. He knew he was on thin ice already - treading water if the Director should hear even whispers of the less ... publishable... aspects of his... actions. And that was only the `combat' actions. If Hover got one *hint* of what had happened in Long's house the night before? Treading water would be a better phrase. Or drowning. Shafter had no doubt that a suspect agent would sink quite literally - and under something a lot heavier then the Director's disapproval.
After a significant look at Manlove, Long had sent a soldier over to his own house for spares. Thus, despite the rigors of the day, they too were looking more or less like themselves. Rather Shafter thought, looking over at the blonde scientist, Long looked like himself. Which was to say polished, debonair, and like a dream. He, on the other hand? Shafter straightened the formal French cuffs on his new linen shirt. He was looking a great deal like Long. At least in a sartorial sense. Either the soldier hadn't bothered to check out more than one closet, or the man just had good taste. He had brought over two of Long's fine suits and ignored the comparative rags in the guest-room closet. Shafter had - for half a second - opened his mouth to protest. Mostly from automatic machismo. But after all they had gone though today? All that they had been willing to face and sacrifice together? A few bits of cloth seemed petty set against the fate of the planet.
He looked up at his newfound friend. Richard Long perched on the well padded arm of the sofa just a few inches from Shafter's shoulder. Not the most stable surface for writing up a report, but Long didn't seem inclined to move away. For which Shafter could himself distressingly thankful. He knew he should be making his own report. And then plans to return to Washington and his next assignment. He couldn't bring himself to attempt either. His mind refused to focus on anything more then.. oh... about six inches way from Richard Long.
Deplorable, really. Shafter knew he's have to discipline himself- but not today. Life was short. Happiness rare. If there was anyway to stay with Long - he would take it. To take it? Shafter would follow the Agency rule `Do whatever it takes."
The phone on the side table to Shafter's right rang. He picked it up.
"Shafter!"
The voice! It was... "Sir?"
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
If Long was having the same thoughts as Shafter, they didn't seem to be distressing the man. Every so often Long would look up, gesturing to either Wang or Putzoutski, but for the greater part he seemed entirely at peace with the days work.
The two older scientists had claimed a small table by the window. Wang fiddled with the wires of his strange machine, occasionally jotting equations on his pocket notebook. Putzoutski paced nearby, splitting his attention between his partner and Manlove's extensive cabinet full of priceless orbs.
"Quite the endowment you have here."
"Thank you." Manlove didn't move from where young Billy lay on the chase lounge, tightly wrapped in one of Manlove's elaborate bathrobes. "It may not be as large as the more public displays, but I flatter myself I've managed a certain depth of penetration."
The boy shivered, causing Manlove to pull the lad closer. Shock as much as injury, Laie had declared. The field medic had suggested moving the boy to the Base infirmary, but Manlove had objected. Objected most vehemently, and in terms that even a Marine drill sergeant seldom used publicly.
Billy had also objected. Not in words. His throat was much too sore to allow him to do more then croak. But the death-grip he kept of the older man's arm left no doubt as to the young reporters preferences. That Manlove tolerated the presumption? Well, that was all the hint any any knowledgeable Angeleno should have required.
The butler had set out a light buffet on the sideboard, complete with a bottle of purely medicinal brandy which - Manlove convincingly explained to Shafter and O'Doul - had been purchased before Prohibition and thus was totally legal. Under those circumstances, even the officers had been persuaded to take a glass: as a prophylactic against shock.
Billy had been allowed a glass, but only after he had promised the various physicians that he would take some solid food as well. Not a problem. Nothing - it would seem - puts a dent in a teenagers appetite. Not even averted Armageddon. The lad was currently on his second `Dagwood' sandwich - and hinting towards a second glass of brandy as well.
Manlove sat beside the boy, ignoring everyone else in favor of his young companion. That, and his recovered property.
Resting his hand on the lads lap Manlove's fingers investigated first one - then the other - of the recovered azure Orbs. "They do seem identical, Long." Manlove rubbed his thumb over the smooth surface of the duplicate ball.
"They do until one tries to use it." Dr. Long looked up from the report he was working on.
"As the aliens found out - the hard way."
Long smiled wryly. "Just can't get any juice if you don't have real balls."
"I'll take that as a motto."
"Not a total loss. At least you got your balls back. " Dr. Putzoutski took the second, fake, orb from his hosts hand. "Just as well. I can't let you see mine just now."
"Just as I can't promise not to try for yours sometime." Manlove set his own sapphire circle back on it's jeweled stand. "Still, I'm satisfied for now."
"Likewise." Dr. Wang who set the artificial Orb carefully into its insulated pouch. "I can't say I won't think about what I might do with yours but... I have what I need. Still, give me a call if you ever develop an interest in... scientific inquiry." He reached for this coat, indicating that it was time to leave.
Putzoutski took the hint, and gathered up his own things. Still, he couldn't resist a last plea. "You should." He held out his hand. "Wang can help you discover things about your balls you wouldn't believe."
"Maybe I will." Manlove shook hands with both men. "A man can never have too firm a grip on his balls." He held the door open. "Scientifically speaking."
Turning back,Manlove caught the two women as they came down the richly carved main stairs."Fifi." He held out his hand. "Dr. Laie." Studio wardrobe plus a quick shower and a careful make over assured that both Laie and the maid were once again soft-focus-glossy. Worthy additions to the Manor even if they hadn't just saved the human race from rapine and enslavement. Manlove made a note to get the wardrobe mistress a spot on the next big film.
Manlove sent a significant look at Laie's midsection. "No permanent effects, I hope."
"If there is" Amanda answered, "You'll be the second to know."
Manlove winced. "That's what I'm afraid of." He turned to the other woman. "Miss D'Lite?"
"J'regrette I must leave you, sir." Fifi stroked the starched lace collar of her black silk dress. The honest truth. She would miss some... aspects... of being in Manlove's... service. But still? "La belle Doctor has made me an offer and... I go to be her keeper. Non - the word is *house*keeper, n'est ce pas?"
"Either way."
"Anything for you, my brave dear." Manlove bent to kiss Laie's hand.
Amanda Laie blushed. "I know you will miss her but... I need her more. She will take care of me. And I will take care of my sweet French Tart." Amanda leaned over to kiss the other girls cheek. "My doll wont need to have anything to do with nasty men."
"Please, mon ange." Fifi smiled at Manlove as she returned the kiss. "No need to be so hasty."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Admiral Shagemal stood as the ladies passed, walking with them until the butler came to escort them to the waiting car. They were the weak link in his secrecy - but then women always were. A man would do better to avoid them altogether.
He had spent most of the post-mission time seated at the large oak desk, flipping though the field reports while listening to three phone lines at once. Those multiple lines - as much as the actor's insistence or the ladies evident exhaustion - had persuaded the Admiral to conduct his mop-up operation from the foothill estate.
Press releases had been issued, blaming the explosions on unauthorized filming . The light show had been explained by the Griffith Observatory as an rare conjunction of Venus and Mars. Long had been tempted mention the conjunction of Virgo, but? Given the side effect of the ray? A ray that the LA basin's permanent pressure cap had reflected over half the city? There probably wasn't a Virgo left over between 16 and 60. And he didn't mean 60th Street East.
Shafter had explained to the press that the troop movements were simply military support for a round up of illegal aliens. He didn't have any problems with that because - as he later mentioned to Long - it was strictly speaking the truth. Erros had hardly stopped to get a green card on his way in.
Speaking of Erros - which they had been - unfortunately none of the search teams had been able to find either the alien or his female accomplice. One more reason for Manlove's generosity. He wanted to keep an eye on Shagemal keeping an eye on the troops. It wasn't just the FBI that could have a most wanted list.
"Any news?" Manlove stepped back as O'Doul came in. The young cop had the Admiral's coat in his left hand, and a envelope marked `orders' in his right. Apparently the Admiral would be leaving as well.
"We have the gangsters in custody. Caught them trying to run. O'Doul frowned. "I'm afraid that most of the aliens got off."
Long snorted. "I should think that a good portion of LA got off."
"Sir?" O'Doul sent Long an uncertain look.
"Got off lightly, I mean." The blond scientist backtracked skillfully. No need to tell a `civilian' about the probably side effects of a lust-ray scattering itself over three hundred miles of Southern California. "The destruction could have been much worse."
"Yes, sir." O'Doul rubbed his backside gently. "They sure could have been." Turning to the general, he added, "Sir? Your car is ready."
"Heading back to the base?" Manlove asked.
"For now." The Admiral passed his briefcase to the attentive O'Doul. "I've been attached as an advisor to the LAPD. Seems these weird things keep happening in this town. Especially out in the MGM backlots. So I'm gong to work with the local forces. Get them ready for the next push."
"Sounds like a big opening."
"One I can fill." O'Doul answered loyally.
"Good man." The actor smiled at the navy man. " I'm glad to hear that. There are a number of matters where the locals could use some... Navy discipline." Manlove stood, walking the Admiral to the door. "We should have lunch next week."
"Gladly, Mr. Manlove." The Admiral saluted swiftly. "I'll have O'Doul give you a call. He's been offered to me as my liaison."
"Excellent" Manlove slapped then both on the back. "I have a number of positions I'd like to go over with both of you."
The Admiral smiled. "Any time."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"Best add Shafter and I to your menu, Manlove." Long slid down the arm, pressing closer to the FBI agent.
"That was Director Hoover on the phone." Shafter lifted his arm to make more room for Long. "It seems he had the same idea. I've been permanently reassigned."
"As a special Deputy to Hoover himself." Long added proudly.
"Amazing how great minds think." The actor paused by the sofa, helping himself to another cup of coffee. "Almost as they were getting a ... call from the beyond."
"Much like." Long resmoothed his already perfect lapels. "Not, of course," he shot a quick glance towards the man at his side, "that the Director could be influenced by anything except the national interest.
"Of course not." Manlove agreed, Just a bit too heartily. "Fine patriot, that man. Always willing to put himself out for any hard-up American."
Long passed the cream. "Or even an occasional ex-pat Englishman?"
"Perhaps." Manlove added just the smallest drop to the black brew. "So I gather that you too are staying in town, Agent Shafter."
"As Dr. Long said, the Director feels we need a better West coast presence. Someone who can get to know the locals and understand the ins and out of the city. The way people connect and move." Shafter straightened his... or rather Long's... tie. "I've been name Deputy Director for Interpersonal and Hollywood Affairs."
"Yes," Manlove muttered. "I can see his interest. If there was ever a place with Personal Affairs Hoover would want to watch?" Then he straightened, casting off the stresses of the day and resuming his public joviality. "Congratulations, Deputy Shafter. I cant think if a better man for the job." Dropping a hand on the other man's shoulder, he leaned closer. "If you need a place to stay, I can..."
"Thanks, old friend," Long stood. "But Ash will be staying with me for a while.
"Great location, and Richard... Dr. Long... insists he has the extra space. Plus?" Shafter shifted in his seat. "Well, we both like the company."
Long took Shafter's hand, helping him stand. "Should have taken a roommate long age - just never could find the right guy."
Shafter reached automatically for his hat, then shrugged. Apparently the soldier given the duty hadn't remembered that bit of apparel. Or perhaps had only found the one? Nah. Richard probably - well, even with hats the man was probably prepared for everything. No matter, Shafter thought. They wouldn't be leaving the house tonight. Not once they got home and... to bed.
If they didn't find his old hat in the base? He'd just buy a new one one tomorrow. Not a problem now. The Director had not only given Shafter a special appointment - the reward for saving the earth - but he had also personally seen that the matching pay raise went through. Retroactively. Shafter would never have Long's wealth, but now at least he could cove his own expenses and not be a drain on his... best friend.
Not that Long minded being drained. Shafter smiled to himself.
Still,Shafter didn't want to be a dead weight. He wanted to give back as good as he got. Wanted to be the sort of man Long would be proud to be seen with. Maybe he could even pick up a few college courses at night? On second thought - no. His night would be booked from now on.
"Yes indeed. " Manlove's smile widened. "Finding the right guy is important. So - Deputy Shafter - since your now the man to see when things go queer?" The actor waited until he had Shafter's full attention. "I'll make your first task a bit easier. Billy will be staying with me."
"Excellent." Shafer helped Long with his coat. The alien ray had caused no permanent changes- for which all were deeply thankful - but it had left Long sore and aching. Shafter had promised his friend a deep back rub - of the same sort that Long had so generously offered him - as soon as they got home. "I had been worried as to how I should handle him."
"No sir!" Billy's broken croak came from the far end of the room. "I know you mean well, sir, but... I only want Mr. Manlove to handle me from now on."
Manlove hurried over to the boy. "And I will Billy. You can always be sure of that."
Chapter 40 : Coda - or - Justice Gets Us All in the End.
This chapter would have been titled `Wrapping up Loose Ends"...but you know there are NEVER any loose ends in my fics. LOL All tight. All *very* tight.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"Must I?" Erros whimpered as he read his orders. Bad enough that Force Commander Farttoz had had him on the carpet ( in both the literal and figurative meanings of the phrase). Bad enough that he was going to be stuck ( again literally) with morale duty for at least a month. Maybe more, of no one else pissed off the Leader enough to get his ass stuck where Erros's would be. But to be transferred to robot maintenance duty as well?
Farttoz frowned. "Are you two questioning my orders?"
"No, glorious one."
"Think on the bright side," Tanna whispered. "At least there you will have plenty of lube."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"Can I...?" Billy wrapped his arms around Eric Manlove's waist, pulling his own body tight against the elder man's back.
"Boy!" Manlove rolled over.
"You said I could."
"I said *maybe*." Manlove shook his head, but his expression was more rueful then rebuking.
"You said maybe next time." Billy rubbed his cheek against Manlove's belly. "And since you've already been in *me* tonight, this could be next time."
"Don't you ever get enough?"
"Not of you." Billy wiggled his way down and through the actor's legs, making sure to rub against all the interesting ( and interested ) scenery on the way.
"Please, Master?" Billy licked his way down Manlove's spine, twisting his tongue around each vertebra with deliberate care. "It was *so* much fun... and I *promise* to be good for you." Reaching the tail bone, Billy paused, then continued lower. "Very *very* good."
"Oh... very well, lad." Manlove chucked. The lad was spoiled... but a good pet deserved to be a bit spoiled. And since Billy had been so eager about taking it the last two times? Grabbing a pillow, he spread his legs so Billy could position himself between them. "But don't think I'm going to make a habit of this."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"Enough, cherie. Tomorrow will be a very long day." Fifi D'Lite tucked the mink lined wrap tenderly around Amanda Laie's shoulders. "You know you made me *promise* to have you in
bed before midnight."
"Good idea!" Long smiled as he helped the French woman - now Amanda Laie's personal secretary - into her own white fox jacket. The summer night was pleasant, but once the ladies stepped away from the glow of the gas patio heaters? The Hollywood Hills could be cold once the sun went down.
"Not that we don't love your company," Ash Shafter rose politely. "But? He shifted the last of the desert plates to the waiting cart. "Even the beautiful need their beauty sleep."
Laie held out her hand, allowing him to help her rise. "You want to be getting to bed yourself."
Shafter nodded. It was getting late, and while the frantic rush of the post-battle clean up had been finally put behind them, there was still the call of normal duties that made casual dinners like this one of the new pleasures he was learning to savor. And then there was the *other* reason that - in the last few days - he had come to appreciate an early bed time. A reason that - again - came under the heading of new pleasures he was learning to savor.
Long must have caught that thought. He gave Shafter a broad smile, heavy with the promise of new and pleasurable discoveries still to come, but all he said was. "You relax. I'll see the ladies to the door."
Shafter slid back into his chair, taking along draw on the pipe full of herbs...
He had been hesitant to give up tobacco... But Richard had insisted And to be honest? The good doctor had been right. His endurance... running time, Shafter quickly amended... had improved. Of course - it had been rough those first few days , but once Long had introduced him to this soothing herbal substitute?
Seemed there was more to this health kick then just a bunch of west coast craziness.
He soothed his tongue with a sip of Berryhill Farms's Barrel Aged Pear Cider. Also absolutely natural, and guaranteed to have the minimum alcohol achievable by natural methods. Of course - he really couldn't compare there. Shafter had never tried the illegal brews. Now he wondered why anyone would. This was all the relaxation a man could want.
And - speaking of all a man could want?
He looked up as Richard Long strolled back onto the patio. "What was that you said about getting to bed?"
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Fifi sighed gently as she remembered Long's retreating backside.
"Troubled, Darling?"
Fifi looked over at her beloved mistress. "Not truly, cheri, just.... " She licked her lips.
Amanda Laie laughed. "Hungry already? And here you just *had* a desert. Perhaps I should promise you some whipped cream when we get home."
"My favorite thing, mon petit." The French woman leaned over and kissed Amanda's cheek. "I was just thinking..."
"An occasional slice of beefcake might also be... tongue tingling?"
"Do you think?"
"Give them a month for the honeymoon and then?" Amanda's smile flashed in the street lamps. "We can invite them both over to dinner at... our place."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
Up at the Observatory, Dr. Wang checked though the telescope as Amanda Laie's car merged with the hundreds of others that rushed though the LA night.
"How does it look?" Putzoutski stepped over from where he had been examining one of the fragments salvaged from the alien fortress.
"Quiet for now, but..."
Admiral Shagemal looked up. "You think there may be permanent after effects?"
"With all that sexual energy being released suddenly on the citizens of Southern California?" Wang secured the telescope and stepped away. "Who can tell what effect it will have on their minds and bodies?"
"These people are Americans." the Admiral answered. "Whatever it is... whatever the future holds... I have absolute faith that our men will all rise to the occasion.
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
It was late, but Sargent Miller was restless. He drove his black and white up the narrow road into Griffith Park, slowing slightly as the passed the night-abandoned picnic spots.
There. By the carousel! That group of young men.
Drinking?
He looked closer.
Nope. He shook his head. If they weren't frat boys out on a toot, then it had to be a pack of pansies. This corner of the park had a reputation for such goings on.
Slowing the car to a crawl, he drove up.
Pairs suddenly split apart. Definitely pansies.
He know he probably ought to arrest them all, but? That cute blond one on the end? He looked like he was here alone.
Pulling close, Miller rolled down his window. "You want to get in the car? Maybe go for a little ... ride?"
The young man froze."You going to cuff me?"
The LA cop licked his lips. "Only if you beg really nicely."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
"Please!" Long gasped as Shafter ran his hand down his lover's chest, stopping only when he found something solid to wrap his hand around.
What?" Shafter teased. "Here I thought you wanted to lie down."
"*I* did, but I guess you woke it up." Long nodded at his swelling organ. "Maybe you could find it some...exercise... to tire it out?"
Shafter shivered as his own rapidly rising flesh was stroked. "Maybe I could find it a friend to play with.
*END CHAPTER FORTY*
©KKR 2003
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
( theme music swells and fades)
(announcer voice)
"Come back next week when Shafter, Long, and Harde along with radio station KCUF bring you another thrilling hour of slashing drama and hard driving action that will make your pulse race when you thrill to... our next adventure."
(There is a double click - as if a switch was not-quite-flipped. )
"Hey - Jack! What are we giving the horney little brats next week?"
(A more muffled voice -as if from a distance)
"How the hell should I know? Whatever the wankers down in the bunny farm come up with."
(cough)
(Higher voice)
"Hey... ummm... excuse me...sir?... but... I think... maybe... you're still on the air?"
(Deep groan)
(Sound of head hitting table)
"Ohhh .... fuck."
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
•••~ooooOOOOOoooo~ ••• ~ooooOOOOoooo~•••
OK. This is the official last chapter. There will be ( maybe) one epilogue (I never do know when to shut up) but the story is officially DONE!
I would like to thank all those who so kindly guided and supported me in the writing of this fic. (I won't list names again - you know who you are.) It might not be much - but without your inspiration it would not have been at all. (Some might think that was the better option. They are likely right but.... I'm still glad it exists. )
I would also like to apologize to those ( pretty much the same people) who's excellent fics I have failed to give the FB and applause that are so clearly their due. Not lack of appreciation. Just lack of time. (RL ate my real life.)
*HUZZAH!*
I suspect it will be a while before I can get back to writing regularly, but know that in the most hectic of times there were days when only the things I read on this list could bring a smile to my face. You *are* appreciated... however little you are told so.
With sincere thanks.
Darklady