Served With a Twist

by Jet Lupin

  “How do you pick a safe word?”

  Cut was ready for that one too. “Something easy for you to remember, but you wouldn’t call out naturally. Like apple, or something.”

  “Then, that one.”

  Cut shook his head. “You pick it. It’ll be easier for you to remember.” Or so he’d read.

  Samson stood there, scratching his chin. “Then… sous vide.”

  Whatever did it for him was fine by Cut.

  And speaking of doing it for him…

  “Tell me a little about what you want to do here. You said being roughed up wasn’t part of it? What is?”

  Samson’s chest rose and fell with his rapid breath. “Taking charge seems to be enough. We haven’t done anything like that yet and already I’m…”

  He didn’t have to finish. Cut flicked his gaze down and saw Samson’s pants straining across his hips. His own jeans were growing snug, too. This role was easier to slip into than Cut had anticipated. But if Samson really wanted to be bossed around, that was something Cut could definitely give him. “Take off your shirt, fold it, and put it on the desk.”

  There was no hesitation whatsoever in Samson’s actions. He undid the first few buttons, but halfway through, he decided it was too slow and pulled the shirt off over his head.

  Cut drank him in, enjoying the sight of that bare flesh. He wanted to touch, but they weren’t through with the preliminaries yet. “When you say ‘take control’ how thoroughly are we talking?”

  Samson stopped mid-fold. “Do I really have to answer?”

  He hadn’t given the safe word so… “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you want.”

  Samson shuddered, his eyes cast down towards Cut’s shoes. “Bossing me around, tearing at me. F-f-fucking me hard until… Until I can’t think.”

  Cut held up a hand for him to stop. “What about not in a sexual way?”

  Samson paused, his expression thoughtful. “I never really thought about it. But I think I want to be useful. To be whatever you need. Food, money… Sex…” His gaze traveled over Cut, settling at his groin, no longer shy and very much trying to provoke a reaction.

  Cut sat forward, his own pants uncomfortable. “And you said you’ve done this before but that it was complicated?”

  “I’ve never done it in real life. I used to meet people online in VR. It’s how I found out I was interested in this in the first place. Then I tried other, lesser things, with real people, but I always wound up back in VR.”

  “Lesser?”

  The way Samson avoided looking at him spoke of his reluctance to talk about it, but he kept going. “More vanilla things… tying my hands, blindfolding, giving orders in bed, but it was never right.”

  “But then you came to me. Why?”

  “S-sous vide.”

  That was out of the question for now? Fine.

  “Take off your pants, and put them with the shirt. Don’t bother folding them.”

  The pants fell, and Samson stepped out of them. He kept his dark purple briefs on. Cut was surprised he was wearing any.

  He beckoned Samson over with a crooked finger. “Come, sit by me. Wherever you think you should.”

  The larger man rushed to sit at Cut’s feet, which, with his earlier obedience, was expected, but still startling. He sat close enough that Cut absorbed his body heat, but he didn’t touch, awaiting permission.

  Cut’s hand hovered over Samson’s hair, but he stopped himself. Was this really OK? He supposed if Samson didn’t like it, he’d say so.

  Cut rested his hand on top of Samson’s head for now. The larger man leaned it against Cut’s knee, one of his hands going to Cut’s calf. This was just his speed. Having this sway over someone bigger, richer, better looking was a heady thing. He wondered how far they would go today.

  The hair under his palm was stiff and crisp from pomade or gel. Cut hated it. He rubbed his fingers together, bits of it flaking off. “The next time we meet, I’d like it if you didn’t have this stuff in your hair.” Samson nodded.

  “I’ll do better next time.”

  Cut hummed his approval. “Tell me about this VR you did.”

  Samson relaxed. “I got into Altered Soul. First because I wanted to look around and unwind, but then I found the darker parts. You can do anything there, bet anything. Be a man, a woman, both, neither depending on your mood. You can also buy anything, and there were always people more than willing to give you what you wanted for the right price. I didn’t know what I was getting into...It got to the point where I was logged in for hours every day.”

  “What part do you think you needed most?” It was OK if he didn’t have an answer. Depending on what he said, Cut might not know what to do with it. But he had an idea of what lay at the core of Samson’s very particular need.

  “Not having to make a decision,” Samson said softly. “I make dozens of tough decisions every day, and sometimes I want to not have to think or have anyone depending on me, just for a little while.”

  Cut could definitely accommodate him as long as Samson was eager to listen. He’d been called “too assertive”— a fancy way of saying he was bossy — on academic and company progress reports. He was never aggressive about it. He was always of the mind that sometimes people needed to be guided into doing the best thing, whether they liked it or not. Unfortunately, more often than not, those same people didn’t like being told they were doing something wrong.

  So this arrangement ought to be interesting, if it worked out. He stroked the side of Samson’s face, and the larger man leaned into it. His hands crept up Cut’s leg.

  “What are you feeling up to now?”

  Samson must have been waiting for that question. One of his hands went straight between Cut’s legs, palming his cock through his jeans. Cut grunted and gently loosened his grip. “Let’s take it a mite slower than that and see where we end up.”

  He felt Samson’s features harden slightly into a frown against his knee. He knew he had to give Samson something more physical, but he wasn’t up for full on fucking just yet.

  He tapped the side of Samson’s face to make the man raise his eyes. “Why don’t you show me what you’d like to do with this?” He covered Samson’s hand and made it squeeze his cock again. “On this.” He stroked the side of Samson’s face with his first two fingers. The message was received loud and clear.

  Samson crawled until he was in front of Cut on his knees. He took the hand that had pet him and pressed those fingers into his mouth, greedily sucking on the digits. Those soft lips around Cut felt like heaven. Cut thought he was doing this for Samson, but each pass of that eager tongue drew him closer to moving this to the next level.

  With his unoccupied hand, he freed his cock. Samson paused, fingers still resting on his tongue, but his gaze was transfixed by what had come into play. But he made no move for it. Soon, he started moving again, licking, sucking at Cut’s fingers, working them like they could give him a release. Not once did he take his eyes off Cut’s cock.

  He was so obedient, never stepping out of line. In a strange way, Cut admired it. He didn’t think he’d have the same strength of will.

  “You can.” The words were barely out of his mouth before Samson switched body parts. His mouth was sopping wet and warmer than it felt on Cut’s fingers. Cut could hardly believe this was happening. He’d fantasized about it so many times after a shift when Samson had appeared. Not this exact situation, but damn was it close enough.

  “Touch yourself.” He could hardly talk and no way to confirm his orders had been followed, but it was Samson. He’d do as he was told. Cut sank his fingers into Samson’s hair, messing it up like it should be. He’d accept it no other way when they were together.

  Samson groaned around the cock between his lips. Cut held onto his hair, gently guiding him back and forth along his length. “I’m…” That was Cut’s only warning before he peaked, filling Samson’s mouth. To his cred
it, Samson didn’t scramble back. He swallowed it all and kept going at a far lazier pace until Cut told him to stop.

  He sat back for a second to catch his breath. He had to attend to Samson, give him a release as well, but when he glanced down, he saw the growing spot on the front of Samson’s trunks.

  He was still panting, skin flushed, leaning heavily on Cut’s legs for support. Cut stared down at him. They’d really just done that.

  It wasn’t like he’d never had his dick sucked before, and by people he’d known half as well. This wasn’t just some hook up. Samson had asked to trust him, to surrender to him. He wanted a level of intimacy Cut hadn’t thought was possible to share with anyone.

  He’d been in a relationship for five months when he first came to Izanami and hadn’t felt what he did now. Pure, unadulterated terror. He needed to put some distance between them immediately, but the book said he couldn’t do that. There was always a come down, and not only for the submissive. He needed to help Samson get his head right. He only hoped it would help him get his straight.

  He guided Samson to the bathroom, and like a puppy, he followed. They relieved him of his drawers and wiped him down with a damp cloth. Cut rinsed the trunks out, but it would be hours before they were fit to wear. He hoped Samson had a ride back home.

  Samson ambled around like a sleepwalker, hanging close to Cut, even as he tried to rinse out the man’s underwear. Cut put him in bed, but he wouldn’t lay down until Cut climbed in with him. Cut pulled the blanket up over them, and Samson huddled close to his warmth. Cut waited until Samson’s breaths grew soft and even to pull back the blanket and extract himself from the bed. He scribbled a note on a pad he found in the desk drawer and left it on top of Samson’s clothes.

  I’ll contact you soon.

  He left room 413 and shut the door quietly behind him.

  Chapter 7

  C

  ut went home and showered in a feeble attempt to wash away the afternoon. He didn’t regret it, but when he thought on it, he felt smothered. But that didn’t mean he hated it. There was so much that he had enjoyed, and that scared him more than the immediacy of their closeness. One session in and this was already the most complicated relationship he’d ever been involved in.

  The whole thing had been so easy to get into, even at the end when he’d gotten into bed with Samson. That wasn’t part of the deal. It was supposed to be professional. Distant. This was shaping up to be the opposite, and it terrified him.

  The whole session had lasted hours, but it felt like minutes. With the few hours left in the day before he slept, he cleaned his room from top to bottom, bought groceries, watched a movie, and for the first time in weeks, he read something not related to this endeavor.

  He went to bed early, but sleep didn’t come. In the wee hours of the morning, he gave up. He rolled over and started to thumb through his pod.

  Samson’s address stood out at the top of his message list. He must have had a reason for contacting him when Cut said he’d reach out first. Cut opened the message with a flick of his thumb. What he saw there made him sit up in bed.

  Samson Ba wants to send you money!

  4500 ICD

  Message: We never settled on an amount, but I hope this is fair.

  The money had been part of the reason he’d agreed to this in the first place, but the act of conducting a session had pushed it to the back of his mind. This was way more than Cut ever would have asked for. He didn’t think he’d done enough to deserve this. Apparently, Samson disagreed.

  Part of him said to accept the request, but taking money he hadn’t earned, didn’t sit well with him.

  Every time he shut his eyes, Samson was there, the rapturous look on his face when Cut gave him the OK to touch him. The memory heated his blood and clouded his head to the point that sleep became impossible. He needed to get some air.

  Cut left the apartment and squeezed into a transport headed towards the Allium District at Izanami’s center. He found a spot between several workers in green and brown jumpsuits, hard hats clipped to their belts. They were maintenance workers going to their shifts or leaving them. They were the only thing standing between life on the colony as they knew it and suffocating in the void. They were the most important part of this place, but most of them barely made more than Cut did.

  They all had that thousand-yard stare of people heading into a 10 hour shift of hard labor. If not for his connections, that might have been Cut, too. The oldest among them had to be about 50. Faded stains on his jumpsuit made an irregular pattern on the dark fabric. He looked exhausted before his day had even begun. Cut felt for him. For all of them.

  They rode together for a half-hour before he got off and went the rest of the way to Hizashi Park on foot.

  The green space was below the now transparent center of the domed city, giving the plants free reign to grow wild. Walking through it felt like being on a fully terraformed planet. The ground was uneven, maintaining the natural terrain that had been here before humans started molding the land to their needs. With a little prodding, the soil had been able to sustain life. Cut didn’t have many good memories of home, but being out here brought them all back.

  He followed the well-trod paths, and climbed over rocks until his limbs burned. The trails were empty this time of night and the further in he went, the fewer city sounds he heard. It was like he was here by himself. He liked the solitude, even as it unsettled him. There were no predators here, no one to really look out for aside from the occasional thief or pervert, but even they had gone to bed.

  Eventually, he reached an outcropping at the highest point in the park. He sat on the edge of the outcropping and let his legs dangle beneath him. From here he could see the park grounds below. The heights surrounded Hizashi, and the other neighborhoods branched out from it. He didn’t know who designed it in such away, rather making it more accessible and communal space, but he’d sure love to kick them in the crotch.

  He lay back against the stone, still giving off heat from the light hours so far into the night. He stared up at the stars, hazy through the Dome’s semitransparent inner shell. The outer covering was a collapsible iris that opened during the daytime to let heat and light in from their large yellow sun, and shuttered at night to try to prevent it from dissipating quickly into the night. It never covered the entire dome, always leaving a small circle exposed for views like this. With the dark season upon them, the iris was closing up earlier and earlier. It wasn’t long before it didn’t open at all. Cut hated the dark. He worked at night and was rarely awake during the day, but he did like feeling the heat rising up from the ground. He’d just have to soak it up while he could. He dedicated the next few minutes to leeching heat from these rocks like a giant lizard. The heat relaxed his body, but not his mind.

  It might be better to return Samson’s money and go back to being bartender and client. They could say they had a bit of fun, and that would be the end of it. No further transactions required.

  If every session were going to be like that, with Cut getting serviced, taking payment was going to be weird.

  His pod buzzed in his pocket

  Emergency all staff meeting this ASAP. this is not a drill

  Cut sighed. “Just what I need.”

  Chapter 8

  I

  t took about an hour to reach the Hizashi’s entrance from its peak, but soon, Cut was shoulder-to-shoulder with Hole’s entire staff. There were people here he’d only met once in the four years he’d worked here, their shifts never overlapping again which was odd, given that this place was so small. No one seemed to know why they were here. All the lights but the one in the back of the bar where they stood were off and the sign out front was switched to closed. They were usually open around this time.

  Priya paced the width of the bar in front of them, hands folded behind her back, her posture rigid, like a general preparing to inspire her troops. Her long thick braid swished with each step
. She stopped, hands behind her back. “Are we all here?” The staff murmured among themselves. Priya nodded and went on. “In two weeks, Hole will be switching to a part time schedule.” The assembled bartenders voiced their concerns all at once until Priya called for order. “I have it from a source that the dome is restricting all nonessential power usage at the start of this dark season for about a month, maybe longer. I don’t have details on why, but it doesn’t matter. What it means for us is fewer light hours and more dark ones where everyone is relying on power. The whole dome will be rationing power and instituting a curfew. No one out after 2400. I know this isn’t ideal, but you need to take care of yourselves first. Get other work. I can call in favors for some of you. You’re two weeks ahead of everyone else so use that time to find other work. If you find a better deal, then take it. There won’t be any hard feelings if you don’t come back once things return to normal. It’s been a pleasure working with you all.”

  The bartender next to Cut was already on his pod, typing away.

  It felt like they’d just gotten out of the dark season. It always seemed to creep up on him. A quick glance at his pod’s calendar backed up Priya’s claim. There’d been ten hours of sunlight in today’s forecast. Two weeks ago, they’d gotten fourteen.

  Xolo was not like the planet they’d come from. There was no sustainable atmosphere, no water hidden in the planet’s crust. But it had soil with dormant, harmless microorganisms that spoke of a once viable ecosystem. They could import water and create their own atmosphere, but they couldn’t change the way they orbited their robust yellow giant star.

  Days were longer here than back on Earth, the planet spinning a little slower. But it tilted on its axis in such a way that when the winter months arrived, the opposite was true. Thankfully, the dark months were brief, last six months compared to the ten warmer ones, but it was almost more than Cut wanted to deal with. He hated bundling up for the cooler weather. He’d left home to get away from that.