by Tiegan Clyne
Michael pulled away. “Lie down on the bed,” he said huskily.
He complied, sitting on the bed and lying back. Michael knelt between his knees and pulled his jeans and underwear off completely, tossing them aside. Sebastian’s erection was rampant, jutting up from his hips and softly bobbing. Michael produced a condom and put it on the tip, rolling it just enough to catch with his lips. With a smooth, practiced motion, he swallowed him down, his lips rolling the condom into place. Sebastian gasped and gripped the bedclothes in his hands, his eyes closing in his ecstasy. Michael held the condom in place with one hand wrapped around the base, then slid back, his tongue swirling over the head.
It was nothing like the machine. This was touch and caring, tenderness and passion. He realized how much he had been craving kindness, and now that Michael was providing it, Sebastian felt his loneliness shattering. For just this moment in time, he was no longer alone, and that feeling added to the physical sensation, making him want him more.
Michael increased his speed, and Sebastian began to writhe, trying not to thrust. He didn’t want to gag his partner, but Michael put his free hand under Sebastian’s hips and pushed, encouraging him. Unable to resist, he began to move, fucking Michael’s mouth. It was so, so good. He was nearly delirious from the pleasure of it, his eyes watering with joy and gratitude. Michael slipped a finger into his body, gently pressing against his pleasure spot. Sebastian whimpered and came, thrusting deep into Michael’s throat and filling the condom with his seed. Michael pulled back and continued to suckle as the aftershocks roared through him, his attentions gentle and almost loving.
He left him with one last wet, wide swipe of his tongue, and Sebastian pulled him up into his arms, claiming his mouth in a deep kiss. Michael’s hardness prodded him, unsatisfied, and Sebastian whispered, “Let me finish you.”
Michael moved up to straddle Sebastian’s chest, pulling his length out of his scrubs. Sebastian had no memory of being with anyone before, but he still knew what to do. The dragonel urged him to lean forward until Michael was hovering over him, the tip of his weeping cock nudging against Sebastian’s lips. He reached out with his tongue, lapping at the sweet moisture, then took him into his mouth. His partner went eagerly, filling his throat and pushing in as far as he could go. He began to thrust, moving hard and fast, his need pushing him to be rougher than Sebastian expected. He did not object. He stroked Michael’s balls and his tight opening, his fingers gentle. With a low moan, Michael exploded in his mouth, his hot cum hitting the back of Sebastian’s throat. He swallowed it all.
Michael rolled off him, sprawling on his back next to Sebastian. They lay in quiet bliss for a long moment, and Sebastian risked taking Michael’s hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed the fingertips one at a time, licking each one in a soft mimicry of what he had just done. Michael smiled. It was the sweetest smile Sebastian had ever seen.
Michael carefully removed the condom, careful not to lose any of the precious material inside. He transferred the semen into the sample cup and sealed it shut, then disposed of the condom in the bathroom. Even though it was only one sample, he helped Sebastian dress again, and he got himself back in order.
“Thank you,” Sebastian said, his voice barely more than a whisper.
Michael kissed him. “My pleasure… believe me.” He put the sample onto the cart and finger combed own his dark curls. “I’ll put in a good word for you.”
Sebastian rose, his legs still feeling watery, and he walked to Michael. He hugged him tightly, and the orderly hugged him back, his hand stroking Sebastian’s back, carefully avoiding the sore spot from his lost scale. Michael pulled back and smiled, his dark green eyes warm.
“Will I see you again?” Sebastian asked. “I mean, like this?”
“Maybe.” He collected the cart and knocked on the door to signal the guards. “I hope so.”
The door opened, and Michael left with his cart and his sample. Sebastian watched him go in silence, his emotions running wild and undefined. He went back to his bed and lay down, still warm with the trailing fragments of his afterglow.
Chapter Four
He was left alone for an entire day. Nobody came into his room to poke and prod him, and nobody brought him his daily dose of protein paste. At least he had water from the bathroom sink, even if it did little to stave off the hunger that gnawed at him. He wondered if what he had done with Michael had been discovered, and if he was being punished.
Sebastian stood by the window and looked out into the yard. He had come to recognize the faces of the people who congregated there, and he told himself stories about who they were and what their lives were like. There was the red-haired girl, whom he had named Lisa, who seemed to have eyes for the blond man with the scar on his arm, whom he had named Leon. Leon, however, was only interested in Janet, a buxom brunette with an artificial left leg. The heartsick looks from Lisa to Leon were mournfully predictable, and he felt bad for the woman. Unrequited love was a sad thing.
There were the children, Tyler, John and Rebecca, who were very serious about their basketball games. Then there was the gray-haired man with the wire-rimmed glasses, whom he called The Professor, who was silent and solitary, keeping to himself. There were the five male friends, Joshua, David, Thomas, Kyle and Ray, who always stood in a loose circle and talked. He imagined that they were philosophers, discussing the great mysteries of life, like who they were and why they were trapped in a breeding facility for the non-human.
His loneliness dragged at him, adding to the misery of his hunger. He leaned against the windowsill and sighed. Imagining only went so far.
There was a stir in the yard, and a group of armed guards pushed the prisoners back from the gate as it opened, forcing them onto their knees with their hands behind their heads. They knelt in neat rows, segregated by gender as before. Janet, with her artificial leg, had some difficulty with the task, and one of the guards manhandled her into position. The Countess’s black limousine and the white panel van that followed it rolled into view, and the gate was closed again.
Four armed guards climbed out of the van, carrying the burly man that had been taken by the Countess on her last visit. He was shackled tightly, hand and foot, and his face was sallow and thin. He looked paler than he had when he was taken, and his eyes were sunken with deep shadows. He looked like he had been through nine rounds with the devil and had come out on the losing end.
The man was dumped into line with the other males, where he was positioned none too gently on his knees. He slumped where they put him, all the fight beaten out of him, probably literally. Sebastian ached for him. He had obviously suffered.
The Countess emerged from her limo and strode toward the building, giving the assembled prisoners less than a cursory glance. When she vanished from view, the guards cleared the yard, driving the prisoners back into the building, as well, but through a different entrance.
Sebastian stepped back from the window and listened to the footsteps approaching his door. A cadre of guards entered his room, pointing their rifles at him, barking orders. He knelt like the people in the yard, his hands behind his head. The Countess strolled in, her high heels clicking on the tiled floor, her eyes locked onto his face. He stared back at her, and he could see in her response that she considered his gaze a challenge. She sat on his bed like a queen taking her throne.
“They tell me that you’ve remembered your name,” she said. “Tell me what it is.”
“My name is Sebastian, Countess.”
She smiled, but it made her look like a viper about to strike. “And what do you know about yourself, Sebastian?”
“I know that I am a dragonel.”
“And?”
“And that I am here as part of a breeding program.”
“And what else?” she prompted, her voice a purr.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She had been instrumental in him gaining this knowledge, and he suspected she knew exactly what he should say. He ho
ped he didn’t get his answer wrong. “I know that there are several pregnancies ongoing as a result of the program, and that you wish to sell my semen to a group called the Community.”
She chuckled. He didn’t know why she was amused. “And why would I want to do that?”
“You mentioned during your last visit that golden dragonels are valuable.”
“You are. Golden dragonels like you are exceedingly rare. The Community would love to breed more of you, but you are the only golden male that GenTel has ever created.” She leaned forward. “And you are mine and mine alone.”
“If you say so, Countess.”
“Oh, I say so. You were purchased as an embryo and born here in this facility. In fact, you’ve never lived anywhere else. What do you say to that?”
Something in his head jangled at her words, and before he could stop himself, he said, “I think you’re lying.”
One of the guards kicked him in the mouth, sending him sprawling on his side. He put his hand to his split lip and wiped away blood. The Countess raised an eyebrow.
“Never speak to me in that tone again.”
He slowly rose back onto his knees, resuming his prior position. He did not apologize.
She crossed her long legs, kicking her foot idly, the stiletto heel stabbing into the air. “The Community doubt that I have a viable male golden dragonel. They don’t believe you can possibly exist. I’m going to show them otherwise. That means that you will be leaving with me today. Would you like that?”
Sebastian glanced at the guards, who still had their rifles trained on him. He didn’t want to go with these people, but anything was better than being stuck in this room alone. He cleared his throat and licked the last of the blood away from his lip. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m told that you are uncooperative, but then I also hear that you cooperate enough for the samples to be provided without undue force. What should I believe, hmm?”
He thought over the straps and drugs he had been subjected to and wondered what the Countess would consider ‘undue force’.
She leaned back onto her hand, her other arm draped across her thighs. She moved like a seductress. “Will you cooperate with me, Sebastian?”
He wondered what he was getting himself into. “Yes, ma’am.”
The Countess smiled. “Good.” She rose and addressed the guards. “Bind him hand and foot and carry him to the van. I don’t want to take the least chance that he’ll run.”
They stepped forward, producing manacles from the deep pockets of their tactical trousers. He was shackled at the wrists and ankles, the chains too short to allow him any sort of movement at all. One of the guards pushed him onto his stomach and connected his wrist and ankle bonds with a short chain, hog-tying him. He did not resist.
The Countess rose and strode out of his room, and the guards hoisted him off the floor by his arms and legs. They carried him down the hallway and into the elevator, then out again through an elaborate mahogany-paneled lobby. The van stood just outside a set of double glass doors, which were frosted and etched with a design that looked like a crown wreathed in snakes. They carried him to the van and deposited him inside, lying him on his stomach on the cold metal floor. One of the guards secured his shackles to rings set into the floor, presumably to prevent him from moving during transit. He could smell old blood in the grooves of the floorboards.
Two of the guards climbed into the back of the van with him, keeping watch over him, while the other two slid into the front seat. The vehicle’s engine powered up, its hum vibrating through him. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek on the cold floor, ignoring the old blood, trying not to panic.
The van’s tires crunched on the gravel driveway, then the noise quieted as they turned onto a paved road. They drive in silence for several long minutes, the guards keeping close watch over him. Sebastian kept his eyes closed. He tried to memorize the feeling of each turn and counted seconds along the way, trying to record the route they were taking. He might need to know it someday.
After the fourth turn and half an hour of driving, one of the guards spoke.
“I heard that they have to milk you to get any cum out of you.”
His companion snorted. “What? A girlie magazine and his hand aren’t inspiring enough?”
“Seems not. But I heard that he’s plenty cooperative when there’s dick involved.”
The other guard laughed. “So that’s the problem? The only golden dragonel is gay?”
“That’s what Michael said when we questioned him.” He leaned closer to the bound prisoner. “I’ll bet you didn’t know that we have cameras in all of the rooms at the facility, did you? We saw your little stunt with the orderly. He crossed a line, and he knew it. You knew it, too, didn’t you? Well, don’t worry - he won’t be back.”
Sebastian flushed.
The second guard laughed again. “That’s the last dick you’ll ever suck!”
“Unless you want to suck ours,” the first guard amended. They both laughed.
He turned his face down toward the floor, pressing his forehead to the metal and guarding his mouth in case these men decided to make good on their words. It was the only protection he could provide for himself, but he knew it was not enough.
The first guard knelt in front of him and grabbed him by the hair, pulling his head back painfully. He had already pulled his cock out of his pants and was stroking it. “Come on, you bastard. Open up.”
“No…”
The guard shoved himself into Sebastian’s mouth, forcing his hard flesh past his lips. Sebastian growled in the back of his throat and bit down for all he was worth. The guard yelped and punched him in the face, forcing him to let go. When he released him, the man’s skin was punctured and bleeding.
“Damn it!” the guard swore, punching him again and again, punctuating each word with a blow from his fist. “Don’t. You. Ever. Bite. Me!”
He tried to turn his face away from the beating, but there was only so far that he could move. His own blood mingled with the cold blood in the crevices, and his head began to swim. The second guard pulled his companion away.
“That’s what you get, trying to fuck with these animals,” he told his colleague. “Now stop. We’re almost there.”
The first guard spat in Sebastian’s bruised and bloodied face. “I’m gonna come back for you, you little shit,” he promised. “You’re gonna be so fucking sorry.”
The van slowed, then turned once more, leaving the highway and gliding over more gravel. The second guard pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped most of the blood away from their prisoner’s face.
“You really pounded the shit out of him,” he told his companion.
“Damn right I did. Little fucker bit me.”
“You’d better get that looked at. God only knows what diseases these things carry in their mouths.”
The first guard grimaced. “Now you tell me.”
“Hey, I didn’t tell you to get personal with him.”
The vehicle came to a stop, and the two guards in the front seat came around to open the doors in the back. They unclipped the connectors between his chains and the rings in the floor and picked him up again, one of them looking askance at the damage to his face.
“He fell,” the first guard explained.
They either believed him or chose to let it go. Either way, they carried him off the van and into the open air.
Sebastian saw a grand house, a multiple-story structure with a tower and a crenelated roof, standing majestically to his right. To his left was a large stable, which smelled of animals. Ahead of him was a smaller building, barely more than a shed, its double doors standing open. He was taken to that shed and put down on the dirt floor inside. They disconnected his wrists from his ankles and let him stand, but before they unshackled him the rest of the way, they fitted him with a heavy gold collar intricately inscribed with a design that looked like circuitry. It fit tightly around his throat, so tightly that he w
as afraid he would have difficulty swallowing. They connected the collar to the ceiling with a chain.
The first guard, the one he had bitten, grasped Sebastian’s chin in his hand and squeezed. “They’re gonna have to teach you manners, you little shit.”
Sebastian spat in the guard’s face.
The guard raised his hand, but the driver stopped him. “Hey, now. Not until after the party. She wants to show him off healthy, not half dead.”
He growled but dropped his fist. He wiped Sebastian’s spittle from his face and growled, “Just wait until I get you alone, you fucker. I’m gonna teach you what pain is.”
Anger burned in him, and it seemed to find a seat behind his lungs, where he presumed his gas bladder was. He wondered if he could breathe fire like a fairy-tale dragon, and if so, how to do it. He vowed that if he learned that trick, this guard would be the first one to become acquainted with it.
They left him alone and locked the shed door. In the sudden darkness, it was hard to see, but he could make out a single military-style cot and a bucket in one corner. They were hardly prime accommodations.
He tried to work a finger between his neck and his collar. It was too tight to allow it, and there was no way to loosen it. He sighed and pulled against the chain connecting him to the ceiling. The chain was long enough that he could lie down easily and reach most corners of the shed, and he indulged himself in some mindless pacing before he sat on the cot.
Another prison cell. His life was full of them. He thought about Michael and wondered what harm they had done to him. He hoped that they had not been too brutal. Michael had been kind to him, as far as kindness in this horrible place seemed to go.
He sat in the shed, watching through the cracks around the door as the sunlight faded into night. A rainstorm was whipping up, and when the storm began, the drops hitting the tin roof over his head made a deafening drum. He lay on the cot and tried to rest, but anxiety kept sleep at bay. He had no idea what the morning would bring.