Tartarus

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Welcome to a daft, kinky scifi story I've been writing. I hope you enjoy it. Feel free to email me on bbboy5277@gmail.com if you have comments, suggestions or just want to encourage me to keep at it (I sometimes need that).

Tartarus

1. Jared.

The drop ship shuddered as it entered the atmosphere, causing Jared's body to lurch sideways, pulling hard at the harness and shoving his shoulder against the arm of the man to his left. At the same moment the man to his right slammed into him, the force pushing the air from his lungs. He felt small between the two men, convicts from the system's penal colony on Hades. Most of those who came to work the mines of Tartarus were. Not Jared, though. He was on a mission from God.

The ship shook again, causing Jared's too large helmet to rattle on his head. He mouthed a prayer to himself, the song of welcome from safe travel that he and the other devoted would sing at the arrival of visitors to the Shrine on Aion. The song brought to mind the faces of his Brothers there and it comforted him. He thought of Alec most of all, after all it was for him that he was here on this rattling, ugly ship, pinned with the scum of the system; to find a Brother that was lost.

Alec had always been willful. Or perhaps curious was a better word. He was always first at the gates when word of a visitor spread, finding a spot where he could see them arrive, and he studied them more closely than he ever did his scriptures. He would be there as they departed, too, but at those times his look was of loss and of longing. None who knew him well was surprised when, one morning, they found his cell empty of the little he owned, save for a short note of farewell.

Jared's head jerked back to attention as the cramped cabin suddenly filled with a loud hissing and the ship depressurised its interior to match the atmosphere. There was a chill and tang to this new air, something acrid at the back of the throat, but Jared had been warned of that. It was just part of Tartarus' reputation for foulness. Even the air stank.

He pictured the ship now skimming through the world's thin cloud cover, wishing for a window in the dim cabin. They would be heading for Campe, the main settlement on Tartarus and the only place approaching a city. He had studied maps of the large moon in the library at the Shrine. It was larger than Aion, and drier, its landscape made up of vast swathes of empty desert or tundra, with precious rings of life clinging to the twenty or so large inland seas that punctuated the moon's otherwise featureless faces. Campe was on the shores of the largest of these, known locally as the Big Water, and in its relatively short existence of four centuries had grown to rival any settlement in the system, in reputation if not size. It was a young and restless place, which was why Jared knew that if he was ever to find Alec it would be there.

There was a strangled screech which morphed into a voice.

"Secure all harnesses. Preparing to dock, ETA at Campe 120 seconds. Hold on boys." The voice was human, which was rare. Even Jared knew that almost all piloting was automated in the system, with the only human pilots being hobbyists. Tartarus, though, was different. The moon had a motlen core, producing a strong magnetic field, and its proximity to its parent planet, the giant Chronos, put it within the magnetosphere of that world as well. The cumulative effect was that any technology that relied on complex and delicate electronics to function was unreliable at best. Tartarus had adapted with an almost antiquated approach to technology, with humans taking many of the jobs traditionally done by drones. As the ship went through another series of violent jolts Jared lamented the lack of an AI pilot.

The big guy on the left gripped onto one of the hand rails, Jared was pressed so close he felt the man's hard muscles move against his arm. Following suit he took hold as well, and a moment later the ship rapidly slowed, pressing their bodies even closer together, hot in the ice cold cabin. Jared was glad of it, of him, this stranger and his warmth, and the reassurance of his weight.

"Thirty seconds." The cracked, tinny voice again, half heard over the ruckus of the approach. Jared's grip tightened on the rail as the ship vibrated, sounding as if it might come apart at any moment. He squeezed his eyes shut, and muttered the short song of sacrifice, with which the brothers greet each new day and each new start. With a last great lurch followed by a tremendous thud the ship finally came to a halt.

The cabin lights went up and the men strapped to the walls began to unbuckle themselves and slump unsteadily into the new gravity. Jared felt it immediately. He had been grown in the relatively low gravity of Aion, and his legs almost buckled under him as his boots met the cabin floor. He was about to collapse when he felt a strong grip on his left arm, steadying him. Jared turned to see the gruff, unsmiling, but not unkind face of the man to his left.

"Steady there, kid." He said, and Jared felt himself blush at being called a kid. He was in no place to argue the point, though.

"Thank you." Was all he could stammer out before the man pulled him towards to exit, supporting his weight as they went.

The hanger doors opened out onto a wide docking bay. As he stepped out Jared was struck by how different it was to those he had seen at home on Aion, or even at the system hub on Hermes, where he had negotiated his way onto the transit to Tartarus. Aion Port had been build to match the architectural style of the Shrine itself, with its high arches and domes of coloured glass, and the port on Hermes had been clean and well ordered despite the large numbers of people that passed through there. Campe Port, in contrast, had been built without concern for beauty and order. The floor and walls were bare concrete, adorned with the grime of a century. Men bustled to and fro as they loaded and unloaded the half dozen ships that shared the bay, weaving burdened through the herds of passengers that wandered the space. Jared felt disorientated at the sudden change and might have lost his balance again if not for the hand that still held his arm. It was guiding him towards a gate on the far side of the bay, next to which a line of his shipmates was forming.

Joining the end of the line the hand let go, and Jared slumped with his shoulders against the wall, glad at least to have remained upright. He looked again at the man who had helped him. He could see him more clearly now in the light from the hangar entrance. The man was a head taller than Jared, and twice as wide, his grey overalls stretched tight across his muscled frame. He was dark haired, and tanned as all the men out of Hades were, which made the scars that lined his face stand out white. His eyes stood out as well, bright blue like those inland seas Jared had studied on the maps at the Shrine. They were watching him.

"Thank you." Jared said again, feeling himself begin to calm and adjust to this new environment.

"First time, huh?" His voice was deep and relaxed. "You did OK, kid. Least you didn't puke."

"I still might." Replied Jared, meaning it. The stranger stuck out a huge hand.

"Ben." He announced. Jared took the man's hand.

"Jared."

The line moved on.

"So what you here for, kid?" The straightforward question took Jared unawares.

"I'm looking for someone." He replied without thinking. He had been cautioned to be careful of who he spoke to in Campe, and of what he said, but Ben's easy manner had disarmed him. The big man nodded.

"Figured you didn't come from Hades." He said, looking Jared up and down, taking in his monk's body. Aion was a warm and fertile world, whose vast, drone tended fields helped feed the inhabitants of Chronos' seven populated moons, and those that abided at the Shrine enjoyed that bounty more than most.

"I came here from Aion." Jared said. Ben raised an eyebrow.

"Not a Brother of the Faith?" He smiled for the first time since we had been talking, a grin of gold toothed amusement that altered his face entirely.

"I am." Jared replied with as much dignity as he could bring. He was rankled by the man's playful mocking, but couldn't disagree that Campe was not a place you would usually find one of the devoted. Ben's face straightened, but Jared could still see the amusement beneath the surface.

The line moved on.

"Well, don't go trying to convert me and we'll get on fine." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a foil wrapped bar of chocolate. Unwrapping it, he snapped it in half and handed one piece to Jared. "Been in my pocket since Hermes. It might be past its best, but it will help."

Jared took the chocolate. "Thank you. Again."

Ben nodded and bit into his piece. They were quiet for a while as they ate, and by the time Jared swallowed the last of his he was feeling noticeably better, and found that the line had moved on. They were now in front of a scratched perspex window, behind which sat a large, bearded man, stretching out a pale blue shirt. On his head was a peaked hat with the logo of the Tartarus Mining Company. He glanced over them indifferently.

"I.D." He nodded towards a reader set in a hole under the window. Ben placed his right hand into the hole up to the wrist. The machine whirred and the panel above it switched from opaque to green. The bearded man nodded. "Second time out here, huh? Don't get many return visitors."

"What can I say? I'm a glutton for punishment." Ben pulled his hand from the hole and rubbed his wrist.

"Or the things that get you that punishment, maybe?" Said the bearded man with a knowing look at Ben.

"Yeah, that too." He replied, sounding rueful.

"Well, least you know the drill." The official turned to Jared. "Don't need a scan to know you ain't been here before. Still, needs doing." And he gestured again to the reader. Jared placed his hand inside as Ben had. The machine whirred. The panel turned orange. The man frowned.

"You're not assigned." He said, and began typing on the keyboard of an ancient looking computer. It even had a physical screen. "You volunteer or something?"

"Yes." Replied Jared. "I came here to...well thats not important, but I could only get transit if I signed up with the Company."

The man sucked through his teeth and tapped away. "Hmmm. Here we are. Looks like they filed you under the Governor's retinue, but no specific job title. Probably just an error or incomplete filing. We don't get many guys volunteering."

"What does that mean?"

"Means you should report to the Governor's office as soon as you can. For now I'll assign you quarters with your buddy here." He looked to Ben. "You okay to show the kid the way?"

Ben nodded. "No problem. I'll get him on his feet." He winked at Jared.

"Alright then." The official reached beneath his desk and produced two wrist-bands. "Wear these over your chips. You need them to get around the city, the parts you're allowed to go anyway." He dropped them into a chute and they appeared in the same hole as the reader. Jared picked them up and handed one to Ben.

"You also need them to access and use your credit account in most of the legit businesses here. Don't ask me about the illicit ones, you have to figure that out for yourselves." The man then nodded a last time to Jared. "Welcome to Campe, kid."

"Cmon, let's go." With a nod to the man, Ben began striding towards the gate and, renewing his determination in his mission, Jared followed.

They had gathered their luggage from a collection point inside the gate. Jared had only his backpack containing his spare clothes, a light-book collection of the scriptures and a few mementos from his Brothers at the Shrine. Ben picked up a similar pack, along with a slim, metallic case. They found a bank of information points on one wall of the foyer and Ben scanned his wristband to locate their accommodation.

"Not bad. 5E, Cobalt Town. Better than my last digs." He glanced around the foyer. "We can get the tram outside. Follow me."

Ben strode ahead through the crowd and Jared was thankful for his new friend"s height or he might have lost him as he squeezed and wove his way through the crowds. The air inside the port was hot and oppressive and Jared longed for the outside, but once through the large doors it was just as thick and acrid. He couldn't help but cough. Noticing, Ben slowed and turned.

"Like breathing through a rank sock, right?" He said, smiling. "You get used to it after a few days. Won't even notice it." He gestured on. "Tram stop is over here. Not far."

They made the short way to the stop, a raised platform next to two sets of metal rails set into the surface of the street. A moment later the tram came into view. It had small wheels positioned in two lines underneath the vehicle, shaped so that they sat neatly onto the rails in the street. Jared marveled at the elegant simplicity of it. The tram rolled to a halt and a set of doors pistoned open in front of them.

"C'mon." Ben stepped into the tram and Jared followed. The interior reminded him of the drop ship cabin he had been in just a short while ago. It had seats set against each wall, with hand rails going floor to ceiling, and more hand holds hanging by straps from the roof. He grabbed one just in time as the tram began to move. Ben had hold of another and was letting himself swing from it, ape-like. The tram rattled on and they didn't speak for a while. Jared looked about him, first at the people on the tram with them, mostly men but for one or two women trying hard not to be noticed. Many of the men wore the same or similar grey TMC overalls that Ben and he wore, in varying states of repair and cleanliness. Jared guessed that the district they were headed to, this Cobalt Town, was something of a dormitory district for the Company. Having lived among men in close quarters for most of his life this somewhat reassured him. It was an environment he had some experience of, or so he hoped.

His gaze wondered to his new friend, who was now staring idly out of one of the windows, watching the city flash by. Despite living his life among men, Ben was something new to him. Jared had never seen a man like this so closely before, so different from his bookish Brothers with their pale, doughy flesh, as different as a mountain is to a meadow. Every hard curve of muscle showed clear through the fabric of his overalls and Jared imagined the body beneath, the soft skin and hard flesh. Perhaps it was the rocking of the tram, or perhaps he was light headed still from the new air, but Jared found himself staring at the big man's chest as it rose and fell with each breath.

"Hey, kid. I said we're here." Jared snapped out of ihis trance and glanced up to Ben, who was looking down with a hint of a smile on his lips. Jared pushed the moment from his mind as best he could as Ben led them from the tram onto a platform similar to the one at the port, except now they were surrounded by rows of near identical, box shaped apartment buildings. They were all of the same height and build, each around ten stories from what Jared could guess. Ben looked around and, after checking a map, pointed them in the right direction.

Their building was three rows down from the stop, and two in. The apartment was on the third floor along with three others and they were happy to find that their wristbands worked to unlock the door. The place was built to house four men, though it seemed that so far only Ben and Jared had been assigned there. It consisted of a combined living and sleeping room, with a small area to prepare food, and a bathroom screened from the rest of the space by a partition that ran across most of one side. The four single beds were lined against another wall and Ben strode over to the furthest, dropping his bag and case down. He sat down and the metal frame creaked under his weight, watching Jared as he cautiously walked to the nearest bed and made to put his own bag down.

"I don't snore, you know." Ben winked, and Jared carried his bag to the second furthest bed. He wasnt sure why he did it, but he was drawn to this man. Ben shifted over on his bed. "Sit down." He said, patting the spot next to him. "Let's get to know each other better."

"Yes." His voice sounding higher than he'd like. "Yes, we should, if I'm to stay here." He took a seat next to Ben and immediately felt that warmth again, the warmth he had felt on the drop ship.

"Tell you what, I'll show you to the Governor's office tomorrow. Find out what you'll be doing." Jared was grateful of the offer, and grateful that fate had handed him this guide.

"I'd like that. Thank you." He paused. "It feels that's all I've said to you. I hope I can repay you some time." Ben smiled and put his arm around Jared's shoulders, reassuringly heavy.

"Dont worry about it, kid. I can't let a Brother of the Faith get in harm's way now can I?" Jared thought he heard more than friendly reassurance in Ben's tone. "I'll look after you, little guy." He held Jared like that a few moments more before releasing him and lying back across the bed, closing his eyes. Jared looked at his face and saw again the scars. Some were straight and thick, others sharp and jagged, others meandered like rivers across his skin. Jared wondered at their causes.

"What did you do? To go to Hades?" The question hung in the air for a moment and Jared regretted asking it, but Ben answered.

"First time was for a robbery. Some buddies and me tried to hold up a shipment of de-aging drugs on route to Aether." He grimaced at the memory. "Turns out one my buddies had sold us out to System Command in return for a citizenship upgrade. I was three cycles on Hades, before coming here for two more."

Jared had researched Tartarus before he left, and knew that it was a path out of a long sentence for those consigned to Hades. The work in the mines was difficult and dangerous and many do not survive the standard two year release term, but the promise of freedom had many men applying for a place, and only the most able were chosen. Once on Tartarus the convicts are allowed much more freedom than on Hades, essentially that of a level one citizen, and after their term is over they are free men once again. He wondered at how a man could put himself through that twice, and what was worth that price.

"And the second time?" Ben became more cautious now, less candid.

"This time I...got involved with the wrong people. Or better say they found me and got me involved and....well. The end of the story is here I am." Jared sensed a sore point and didn't push. Ben changed the subject.

"You say you're here looking for someone?" He had opened his eyes and was looking at Jared. "He a Brother too?"

Jared paused, unsure of how much he should say. "Yes. He was part of my suborder. I have known him since....since I can remember." Jared pictured Alec, smiling in the orange light from Chronos above, looming huge and bright in the sky of Aion. Alec always loved most to watch the sky on those nights when all six of the other world moons were visible. He would name them as Jared followed his finger. Aether, Hades, Hermes, Tartarus, Gaia, Nyx.

"Wait, I'll show you." Jared reached forward to his pack on the other bed and opened it, rummaging to produce a small, black cube. "I hope this works here." He pressed the sides of the cube. A few centimetres above it appeared the three dimensional image of a young man of perhaps twenty five cycles. His hair looked as if it would be blond if it was allowed to grow, but was kept in the close cropped manner of the Brothers. His garments were also that of the devoted, plain black robes but for a coloured trim that signified which of the seven orders to which he belonged. The image blinked and distorted intermittently but the face was clear enough to see that it was handsome, and smiling with an enthusiasm for life. Ben looked intently at the image.

"His name is Alec." Jared placed the cube onto the dresser next to the bed. "He left the shrine nearly a cycle ago and its important that...we need to find him. I need to find him, and I think he could be here on Tartarus."

"Must be a pretty special guy." Ben said, stroking the stubble on his cheeks.

"Yes, he is." Too special, Jared thought. The news had come a little over half a cycle after Alec had left the Shrine. It was always known that he had come from an wealthy family, some old money from Gaia, Jared had thought. There was an older brother so Alec had been placed at the Shrine, as many second sons were. It was like putting the spare somewhere safe, just in case, and few places in the system were safer than Aion. A practical policy, but problems occur if the spare goes missing and is suddenly needed. Alec"s father and brother were killed in a shuttle malfunction en route to the a festival on Aether, though there were mutters that it was not an accident. The Brothers then found, through visits from concerned parties, that Alec's background was far more rarefied than he had ever let on, and that his family owned half of Gaia itself, along with much of Aion's agricultural lands and a substantial interest in the TMC. With the death of his family Alec would become one of the most powerful men in the system, if only someone knew where he was.

Jared could say none of this to Ben, though he wished to. His mission had so often felt like a burden he longed to share, but it was important that he found Alec quietly, before anyone else could.

"Do you have any leads?" Ben sat up, engaged and curious.

"Not really." Jared replied, truthfully. After much searching he had managed to confirm that Alec had been on Hermes for a couple of months. Jared had to venture into some of seedier areas of System City to get that information. It made him worry all the more for his lost Brother. All of those who are raised to serve at the Shrine live a sheltered life but Alec, despite his wanderlust, had always seemed more naive than most. To Jared his Brother was like a lamb that had wandered among wolves. There the trail went cold but for one man who claimed to have seen someone of Alec's description with a group of smugglers who work the routes to Tartarus.

"All I know is that he is in trouble."

"Yeah, won't find much else on this rock." Ben stood. "Just ore and trouble." He looked down at Jared, meeting his eye. "So be careful."

"I will."

"I'm gonna find out if the shower works." Ben walked towards the bathroom, unzipping his overalls as he went and letting the top half fall free. Jared looked in quiet awe at the strength and definition of his body, every muscle of his back rippling as he pulled his arms free. There were intricate tattoos winding around his thick arms and across his shoulders, swirls and patterns twisting like strands of dna. On his back was a half coiled serpent, its fanged head poised to strike from between his shoulders. The artist had used iridescent ink so that the scales and eyes flashed with red, green and blue as he moved under the light. Jared found the effect mesmeric and when he finally looked up he saw that he had been caught again.

"You like it?" Ben flexed his arms and posed with his back to Jared to show the tattoo off to better effect. It looked to Jared as if it was almost alive, the way the shifting light made the scales seem to move.

"I've never seen anything like it." At least that was honest. For the man and the snake.

"I got it on Gaia a long time ago. You ever been?" Gaia was the largest and by far the most populous of the seven home worlds, though not the oldest. As such it was the cultural nexus of the system. Hermes had been chosen as the seat of the system government precisely because Gaia so dominated otherwise. Though nobody said it, the other six home worlds were mere colonies next to Gaia.

"Just once." Jared replied. "Before I came to Hermes I sought Alec in his home city on Gaia. I thought perhaps he might have contacted one of his family."

"And?" Ben leaned against the wall to listen.

"I didn't get past the gates. I was shooed off by servants. I might have been more persistent but I did not want to attract attention." Ben's eyebrows arched.

"From who? Are you in trouble?" He looked so genuinely concerned that Jared couldn't help but confess a little of the truth.

"I....I'm not sure but I know that Alec is, or soon will be if I don't find him." It felt good to relieve himself of his burden a little, and his instincts told him he could trust Bem with that much at least. Feeling lighter he smiled, but Ben was frowning.

"Well, don't do anything stupid, least not without talking to me. I don't know what you're tied up in, but I got your back." Jared shifted in his seat. He wanted to trust Ben, have at least one friend on this strange new world. Perhaps he would if the time came.

"OK. Now let me know how the shower is." Ben smiled.

"Will do, kid." As he walked the last few metres to the bathroom he kicked off his boots and let his overalls slip past his legs, stepping out of them. Jared couldn't help but look one last time. He promised himself it was one last time. He marvelled at the size of Ben's thighs, as thick and hard as the trunks of trees. Jared imagined the power in them, imagined touching them and kissing them and....he had to stop. He was a Brother of the Faith on a mission from his order, that is all that should concern him. Still, his eyes couldn't help but flick to Ben's crotch as he dropped his shorts and turned to enter the bathroom. When he looked up there was a flash of something other than amusement in Ben's face. Just for a moment he looked hungry. It passed just as quickly and Ben disappeared into the bathroom without another look. A few moments later Jared heard the sound of running water.

He stood and busied himself with his bag, unpacking his belongings and checking them for damage with more care than was needed so that, when he heard the drier end and Ben come padding out of the bathroom, he would not be tempted to look.

"Shower's great, man. Give it a try." Jared could hear Ben open his own bag and begin pulling out clothes. He willed himself not to imagine the man naked, just a metre away. That brief glimpse of his crotch and that dark, swinging shape flashed in his mind. After half a minute he risked a glance back and saw that Ben had put on shorts and was lying back on his bed, so tall that his feet nearly hung off the end.

Jared grabbed his towel. He was tempted to undress in the bathroom, but thought that it might seem strange given how unselfconscious Ben had been, so he unzipped his overalls and let them fall to his ankles. He kept his back to Ben as he did so, in case he saw the outline of his arousal, and holding the towel in front he hurried to the bathroom.

The warmth of the shower massaging his body reminded Jared of how tired he was. When he returned to the sleeping area Ben was snoring. The gravity was still such a sap on his energy that, when Jared finally made it to his bed he fell quickly into a deep sleep, listening to the faint noise of the city and Ben snoring softly nearby.

1. Belik.

Vice-Governor Belik stepped out onto the balcony of his office high on the southeast tower of the Governor's building. Before him lay the fuming, writhing nest of monsters that was downtown Campe. A fog had rolled in from the Water overnight, adding to the usual blanket of smog that perpetually hugged the city, leaving only the tops of the taller structures visible above. It reminded Belik of his home, of the cloud city on Aether and the slender columns that held it above that world's toxic surface.

He had been on Tartarus for ten cycles now, assigned at first as a deputy administrator for one of the moon's sectors, before rising to his current position as the second most powerful man on the surface. It was a position he enjoyed, high above the dirt of the city, above the miasma that clung always to it, but close enough that he could indulge when he wished, to swoop like a raptor and take what he pleased. He thought back to the hawks his father had kept on Aether, the finest in the city it had been said and, Belik suspected, the beings his father had loved most. Towards the end he did little else but tend to those birds, spending hours in the falconry next to the main house. Belik had resented them then, but life had taught him his father's fascination. His thoughts were interrupted by a chirrup from the intercom. Belik waited half a minute before re-entering from the balcony. He sat at his desk before pressing the panel to reply.

"Yes?"

"Vice-Governor." The voice of his current secretary, a beautiful if somewhat dim young man he had found in the administration pool. This antiquated way of working that Tartarus demanded, its reliance on error prone humans, was vexing at times, but it did have a few benefits, as the young man had found out last night. Belik smiled at the memory of the secretary's smooth, pale behind as it had sucked in his cock, riding it until Belik had put a very satisfying load into the boy. His work was abysmal, however, and Belik was already thinking of replacing him. "Your morning appointment is here. Mr Karrow from the Campe Small Business Association.

Ah, yes, Belik thought. The SBA, a not so subtle euphemism for the local mafia. He balked at dealing with such scum, but in a place as lawless as Campe men like Karrow were a necessary evil.

"Show him in." A moment or two later in stepped Karrow, a tall, stout man of around forty. Belik had read his file and knew that he had arrived on Tartarus as a convict, and had been one of the few that decided to stay after his term was over. In the cycles since he had risen from a petty thug to control more than half of the organised crime on the moon. He was uncouth but not stupid, so Belik trod carefully.

"Mr Karrow." Belik rose from his chair. "A pleasure as always. Take a seat." He gestured to a chair in front of the desk, then pressed the intercom. "Send in some coffee." Belik might learn the young man's name at some point.

"Coming right up, Sir." Belik smiled.

Karrow had taken a seat and so Belik took his own slightly larger chair.

"So, Mr Karrow. How can I assist you this morning?" Belik put on an ingratiating tone, but Karrows face was unmoved.

"You know what this is about, Belik, so you can cut the shit." Of course Belik knew. He knew everything that went on in the city. System Command had been putting pressure on his office to curtail smuggling in and out of Tartarus, and so Belik had ordered some token raids on known warehouses around the city.

"I assure you, Mr Karrow, that the raids were the minimum we could do. You are not the only person it is my job to please, and sometimes interests...conflict." Karrow narrowed his eyes, but Belik could see him falter.

"Be that as it may, Belik, I will still need compensating for the loss of merchandise. Remember who helped get you this office." He looked around the room to underline his point.

"Yes, of course, but we must be discreet. Now, it is my understanding that you have been expanding into the, er, leisure market?" Another polite euphemism. The sex pits of Campe had always so far remained separate from the mafia, run by an organisation of owners and slave traders with offworld connections. Belik had learned that Mr Karrow and his associates had their eyes on that market and had made tentative moves into it, meeting more resistance than they had hoped for. He enjoyed the look of surprise that crossed the mob boss' face as Belik revealed this knowledge.

"You're well informed, I'll give you that." The man paused to consider his words. "We have some interests there, yes. What of it?"

"It is my understanding that the current beneficiaries of that trade find your presence unwelcome." His tone was smooth, but his words pointed.

"We have had some push back yes."

"Then perhaps we can help each other." Belik, prepared for this conversation, opened his desk drawer and produced a paper file. He pushed it across the desk to Karrow, who took it and read it with widening eyes.

"If this is true then..." His gruff voice now sounded eager. Now I have him, thought Belik.

"All quite verifiable, I assure you." Belik sat back in his chair. "I will send you the original files if you like." Karrow simply nodded as he reread the pertinent parts of the document. A few moments later he placed it down and regarded Belik.

"This will go some way, Belik, but these raids cannot continue."

"None are planned for the foreseeable future, Mr Karrow, you can be assured of that. It is my only wish for us to work together." Karrow grunted in grudging acceptance.

"Well, we'll see." Karrow stood and picked up the file. "And we'll see about this too."

"Of course." Belik rose. "I'm sure you have your own connections." He reached out his hand and Karrow paused before taking it.

"Indeed. Well, good day, Belik." The man couldn't hide the contempt in his voice. Belik knew there was no love lost between them, but both knew that the other was too useful and too dangerous to cross.

"And to you too Mr Karrow. My door is always open." The mob boss crossed to the door which opened in front of him, revealing the secretary carrying a tray of coffee. The young man walked straight into Karrow, up ending the tray and spilling coffee down the man's white shirt and coal black suit.

"I'm sorry, Sir, I....." The secretary tried to back out of the room but Belik stopped him.

"Stay." He told the secretary. "My apologies, Mr Karrow. I'll deal with him." Karrow, red faced, stared at Belik a moment, then grunted and, stepping around the trembling secretary, strode out of the room.

"I'm so sorry Sir, I..." The secretary began, clutching the now empty tray to himself like a shield, but Belik raised a finger to silence him. He sat down in his chair and pushed it back away from his desk.

"Put the tray down and kneel." After only a hint of hesitation the young man carefully placed the tray onto the desk before walking around to where Belik sat. He slowly lowered his knees onto the thick carpet until he was eye level with Belik's crotch. Belik saw his eyes linger there a moment too long before lowering to the floor. Belik let him kneel in silence a while, knowing that his mind would be racing with what punishments Belik might inflict, what instruction he might give.

"You embarrassed me, boy." Belik said, finally, and saw the boy flinch at his words. He was not badly trained, and it would be a shame to see him go, but Belik had an image to protect. The useless whore had made him look a fool in front of that pig Karrow. There were consequences.

"I'm sorry, Sir." Belik slapped the boy's face, hard.

"Did I tell you to speak?" Blood flushed to the boy's cheek and the sight made Belik throb. He would get one more use out of this one.

"No Sir." Another slap, this time to the other side. Belik liked symmetry.

"That's right. So be a good whore and use that mouth for the one thing it might be good for." Belik grabbed his growing crotch for emphasis. He wouldn't want to confuse the brainless cunt. Fortunately he understood the direction and began unbuckling Belik's belt and pulling down his zipper. Belik sat back and put his arms behind his head, letting the boy work. It wasn't long before he felt a hot mouth engulfing the end of his dick, sucking at the precum smeared around and under his foreskin, tongueing at the end the way Belik had taught him. The boy had become a passable cocksleeve. Maybe he would give him to Mr Karrow for his new venture. Belik thrust in deeper. That might sweeten the grim old fucker. The thought stirred him, and he took the boy's head in his hands, plowing deep into his throat. He thought of the dumb whore being strapped down and used as a five credit fuckhole in the worst pit in Silicon, until his tiny mind and sloppy holes were wrecked forever. Send him to be the brainless cum hole he was born to be, then go back and visit him after a year, if he's still alive. The image of the boy completely broken by a year in the worst of Campe's sex pits drove Belik over the edge and with a yell he shot ropes of cum down the little bitch's gullet, before pulling out to finish over his pretty face and blond hair.

Belik leant back, breathing heavily as his cock softened in the boys mouth. He looked down and saw his face was smeared with drool and cum and, though he'd just unloaded, Belik felt his dick twitch again. Sadly, that was the last time he would use that mouth, for a while at least. He reached for a pen and paper and scribbled a note. Folding it into an envelope he handed it to the secretary.

"Remember Mr Karrow, who was here just now?" He spoke to the still kneeling secretary as if as to a child. The young man nodded.

"Good. Now, be a good boy and clean yourself up, then take this note to his offices, with my compliments. Can you do that?"

"Yes Sir, of course Sir. Thank you Sir." The boy was so pathetically grateful at thinking he had escaped punishment that Belik almost laughed.

"Run along now, before I change my mind."

With no more meetings scheduled that morning, Belik decided to take an unannounced tour of the city administration department. He had carefully curated a fearsome reputation among the workers in the Governor's Office, and enjoyed making impromptu visits, if only to see the look of terror in their eyes as they recognised him, how they made themselves small and avoided his attention, praying not to be the one he noticed that day. A hawk among sparrows. After terrorising the transit and sanitation departments, ruining several people's day and one poor lackwit's life, he set his sights on the main reception. Turning the corner into the entrance foyer he heard a low commotion coming from the front desk.

"But isn't there anything you can do?" Looking, Belik saw the voice belonged to a pink faced young man dressed in the uniform of a miner but looking like anything but. He was far too short and, from what Belik could tell from his body beneath those baggy overalls, not used to physical labour. His fair hair was the same short length all over, as if until recently it had been cropped close. It couldn't be, could it? Intrigued, Belik drifted closer.

"I'm sorry, there's nothing." The receptionist was looking increasingly frustrated. "The transport you arrived on was to deliver men for the mines. You should not have been on it. Whoever got you onboard logged you onto the system without proper authorisation, and since your biometrics disqualify you from the mines there simply is no place for you."

"What does that mean?" The boy looked desperate. A good look, thought Belik.

"It means your contract with the Company is void. We will have to recind your accommodation."

"What? But...you can't. Where will I go?" Before the receptionist could answer Belik stepped forward.

"What seems to be the problem here?" He smiled as he saw the receptionist's eyes widen in shock.

"Vice-Governor, this is nothing to concern yourself with, this young man was...." Belik cut him off.

"I'll be the judge of that." He turned to the young man. "Vice-Governor Belik." He held out his hand. "And you are?"

"My name is Jared, Sir." The young man took his hand, his grip firmer than Belik had anticipated.

"Pleased to meet you, Jared. What seems to be the problem?" The young man explained that he had arrived the previous day on a TMC transport ship and had been assigned to the Governor's retinue, but on reporting to reception had found that he had no job there, and consequently nowhere to live.

"I can't leave Tartarus, not now." The young man's look of dejection stirred something wicked in Belik.

"Hmm." He looked the boy up and down, pretending to think. He wasn't Belik's usual preference, a bit on the soft side perhaps, but his ass was high and round and he began picturing what it would look like backing onto his dick. "They say fate makes strange paths for us. I'm sure one of the devoted would agree?" Jared's suddenly widened eyes confirmed Belik's guess.

"Yes, Sir." He replied, unsure where the Vice-Governor was leading him.

"It just so happens that I am, as of this morning, in need of a new secretary. I take it you are literate? Educated? The Brothers reputably are." Belik had never fucked a Brother of the Faith. The thought aroused him more than he could have expected.

"Yes Sir. I am instructed in the core arts and sciences, and..." Belik raised a finger.

"Good enough." He turned to the receptionist. "This young man will be joining my office as my secretary. Update his file accordingly. "

"Yes, Vice-Governor." The receptionist began hurriedly typing at his keyboard. "And the accommodation?"

"Leave it as it is." He turned back to Jared. "If that is acceptable?"

"Yes Sir. It is. I mean, thank you." Belik relished the gratitude in the young man's flushed face. He looked forward to seeing more of it.

"Good. Report to my office tomorrow morning to be instructed on your new duties. You will need some more appropriate clothes." He turned again to the receptionist. "Credit his account with 1000C for expenses."

"I don't know how to thank you, Sir. Fate has smiled." Indeed, thought Belik. This one will be interesting, he could tell. A Brother outside of Aion was rare enough, but one so fresh had to be savoured.

"You can thank me by proving my instincts correct. Tomorrow morning." He smiled and the young man smiled back with a a trusting innocence that made his dick jump. "Goodbye for now, Jared."

He left the young Brother still stammering his reply and walked towards the elevator. He would have lunch sent in, his afternoon appointment promised to be hungry work.

1. Ben.

Ben left Jared at the entry to the main reception hall of the Governor's building, wishing the kid luck as he went. It had been a tough night, lying so close to Jared's hot little ass and not being able to do anything about it, even though he could tell how badly the kid needed it too. But Ben had orders. Make contact, gain trust, assist where possible, protect where necessary. Any other entanglement could wreck the mission, and too much was at stake to let his dick do the thinking. But, damn, it was going to be a tough assignment. He needed a release and soon.

It had been a few cycles since he had been in Campe, and much had changed in even that short time. Nickel Town, which sat between Cobalt and the government district, had been a slum worse than Lithium, but now towered with gleaming apartments to house the city's nouveau riche. He was pleased to see that Silicon Street, the centre of the red light district, was still there in all its gaudy, debauched glory. Even in the morning there were people milling about, and punters at the many bars. Ben headed towards a place that was once a regular haunt, the Drone's Bone.

Stepping in he saw that time hadn't entered there at least. It was the same large, circular, dimly lit room with a bar truncating one side and a small stage facing it on the other. Between the two were scattered tables and chairs which the proprietor always claimed were real wood, and along the walls were booths with velvet privacy curtains. Not that anyone cared much for modesty at the Drone's Bone, where the motto was "fuck like a machine".

There were around half a dozen men in the bar, scattered in ones and twos around the room. A quick glance showed no one Ben recognised but then he hadn't expected to. People rarely stay long on Tartarus. He stepped up to the bar. The barman was unfamiliar too, a youngish man of around 25, short but strong, with a thick bull neck and wide, round shoulders. Ben thought idly of how those shoulders would feel in his hands as he bent the guy over the bar and fucked the shit out of him. Instead he ordered a beer and took a seat.

Sipping his beer he looked around the room again, this time more casually. He noticed a guy that he hadn't seen at first, sat in one of the booths next to the door. Without being too obvious Ben took the guy in. The first thing he noticed was his uniform. It was the same as those of the guards stationed outside the Governor's building. Ben's cock twitched in his overalls. He had a special thing for dicking a guy in uniform. Call it catharsis. He looked young, maybe the same age as Jared, but taller, broader. He needed to stop thinking about Jared.

The guard looked nervous, and Ben guessed he was still getting used to the idea that he likes dick. He would have to take it slow, but that was OK. As much he needed to get off he could never resist a chase. Easy prey only feeds you for a short while. He decided to fish for eye contact, glancing every so often at the guard. Once. Twice. Bingo. Ben holds it a moment and the guard looks away. Ben doesn't. He knows what comes next. A second later the guard looks back, and this time stays. Ben smiles, both to the guard and to himself. He raises his beer bottle and lifts his eyebrows in a question. The guard replies by nodding a thank you and lifting his own near empty bottle. Ben orders two more and carries them over to where the guard is sitting, taking it slow to let him see every inch of his body, let him see what's coming for him.

"I hope you're not drinking on duty." Ben placed a beer in front of the guard and sat down opposite him. The guy was nervous as hell, but Ben was used to that. He had that effect on men like this. Fact is it turned him on, seeing a guy turn to jelly just from being near him. Jared was a little like that too. He had to stop thinking about Jared.

"No, I'm...I was on night duty. Got off an hour ago. Cheers." The guard raised his beer before taking a gulp, and Ben watched the way his lips hugged the bottle. "Just unwinding, you know."

Ben smiled. The guy seemed pretty wound up, that's for sure. He leant forward and spoke low, forcing the guard to lean in.

"And what do you do to relax? Did you come here just to drink a few beers?" He looked the guard in the eye and saw the lust begin to burn there. He leant in closer, almost speaking into the guard's ear. "Or do you want something harder?"

Ben swore he felt him shiver, though they weren't yet touching. The guard was speechless for a moment.

"I..." Before he could finish whatever he was going to say Ben leant back.

"Whiskey, I mean. Or bourbon if that's your thing." Ben almost laughed at the dumbfounded but oh so horny look on the guard's face. He waved to the bar tender and shouted an order for two whiskeys. By the time they arrived the guard had regained some composure and joined Ben in the song to happy meetings.

"Seriously, though. You must have come here for something. You know what kind of place this is." The whiskey had worked its magic because the guard sat back and looking at Ben with honesty in his flushed face.

"I guess I find it exciting. I've heard what goes on down here on a party night, guys fucking on the stage, on the tables." He fiddled with his empty glass and Ben signalled the barman for two more. "The guys in the guard room joke about it, call it a bunch of faggy shit, but hearing about it always got me hard, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." Ben leaned closer. "And you can bet most of those other guys have been here or somewhere like it at least once." The guard smiled.

"Yeah. One guy at least gets his dick sucked." He smiled with a hint of mischief that made Ben hard.

"How's that? You been blowing your buddy or something? And here I thought you were innocent." The second whiskeys arrived and they both took a drink.

"Just once." The guard replied. "A few of us had been drinking at the lightside festival so you can probably guess we were pretty hammered." Ah yes, thought Ben. Alcohol. The straight man's alibi. "We had ended up at a house party in Helium, fuck knows who's place it was but everyone passed out but for me and him." He smiled at the memory. "He told me he had seen me check him out in the showers after training or something, which was probably true. He's hot. Said he didn't care, but asked if I wanted to blow him. I was just hammered enough to say yes."

"And did you like it?" Ben risked putting a hand on the guard's knee. He caught his eyes but didn't move away so Ben moved his hand up a little, further along the man's thigh. Ben felt the hard muscle tense with anticipation.

"I can't stop thinking about it. How it felt, how it smelt, how it tasted." He licked his lips. "I've whacked off so many times thinking about it."

"That's hot." Ben was real close again now, lips just centimetres from the guards ear. He moved his hand further still, until his fingertips brushed the very edge of the guards straining crotch. It pulsed. "I bet you're thinking about it right now."

The guard let out a near inaudible groan, but Ben heard it.

"I bet you're picturing yourself on your knees, mouth open, waiting to be fed that fat cock. Am I right?" Ben moved his hand to the guy's crotch now, his fingers enveloping it.

"Yes." He could barely talk. Fuck, this is just how Ben liked them. This guy was ready to pop.

"Then how about you get on your knees right now and stop dreaming about it." The guard looked nervously around the room. "Don't worry about them. You know what kind of place this is. Now do what God made you for and get your pretty mouth on my dick." The lust exploded in the guard's eyes at this and he knelt so fast Ben was sure he must have bruised his knees. Sometimes all a guy needs is a push in the right direction.

"That's better." Ben unzipped his overalls and slowly shucked the sleeves from his arms, exposing his thick, tattooed biceps and shoulders, his broad, defined chest. The guard looked up and drank him in, his tongue practically hanging out of his mouth. Last of all Ben revealed his boxers, packed tight with a dick that had ruined more than its fair share of guys like this one. The guard's eyes fixed on it, mesmerised.

"That's what you came here for isn't it? You wanted a man to give you another fix of dick. Well, here you go, boy. I know you're hungry." And he was. Like a dog let off the leash he dived into Ben's crotch, mouth open and all over, breathing him in. Ben didn't expect an expert blow job but at least it would be eager. The guard pulled at the waistband of Ben's shorts, getting to that dick he needed so badly. A look of bliss came over his face as the thick head first rested on his tongue. Seeing the guy so grateful for his cock gave Ben a surge of adrenaline. He'd taken it slow, he'd been patient with this young buck, but now for the kill.

Taking hold of the guard's head he drove him down onto his dick, not stopping until the guy had his nose inhaling Ben's pubic hair and his hands slapping at his thighs as he struggled for air. When he let go the guard pulled back and gulped for a breath, but never let Ben's dick leave his mouth. Ben began to think this guy had potential, could be trained into a real good fuckhole with the right guidance. Perhaps his mission would allow him time.

Ben grabbed the guy's head again, but this time he only guided the pace and let the guard set the depth. He wanted the cocksucker to have an opportunity to impress him. Taking what you want is nice, but making someone want to give it to you is sweeter. The guy worked hard at it, too. Sure, it was a sloppy, amateur blowjob, but the sight of the guard in his neat uniform, kneeling on a grubby bar floor to suck the dick of a guy he just met made Ben's nuts roll.

"Yeah that's what you wanted alright. And now every guy here that's watching you chow down knows what a cocksucker you are." The guard whimpered but sucked all the harder. Ben had been barely holding on but this last humiliation put him over the edge. As he began unloading he pulled out, shooting over the guard's face and hair. Ben made sure to aim some at his shirt, too, messing up that nice uniform. The fact that the guard was loving every moment of it, every spurt of thick cum that hit him, made it all the hotter.

"Good job, boy." Ben used his thumb to wipe cum from the guards face, feeding it to him. "I might stop by again. If you're good you'll get some more."

"You can have my contact if you want." The guard said eagerly. Ben would normally refuse, he didn't like to get attached, but having an obedient little puppy in the Governor's guard might be useful.

"Sure. Oh, and you can get up now." The guard smiled and stood, still a little shakey, and fell into his chair. Ben noted the dark patch on the front of his pants and gave the guard a knowing look. "Glad you liked it." The guard made an attempt to hide it with his hands but Ben reached over and brushed them aside.

"No, boy." His voice became deep. "You look hot covered in cum, mine and yours. I want you to wear it."

"Yes sir." The guard looked shocked for a moment, glued to his seat, but Ben could still see the lust still burning away under the surface. This was a pussy that needed fucking, mind and body.

Ben gave him a gentle slap to the cheek, just enough to remind him his place. "Good boy." Guys like this, in their smart uniforms, come half trained already. They spend their lives taking orders from other men, and when they kneel they go down so hard they never get up. "What's your name?"

"I'm Gary." Ben smiled. Gary the Guard. At least that would be easy to remember. As he stood he tapped his terminal to the guard's before walking to the door.

"See you around, Gary." As he left the bar he wondered how Jared had done at the Governor's office, and then kicked himself that the kid was still the first thing on his mind.

He had one more order of business that day, taking him across the city to Lithium Town. He did not relish the proposition. Lithium had been a wholly lawless place during his last stay in Campe, and nothing he had heard could persuade him that it had improved since. A warren of slums workshops and warehouses, it had long been the home turf of the local mafia. Ben had heard that a man named Karrow now held the reins of power there, a brutal man by all accounts, and ambitious. Fortunately it was not Karrow that he was hoping to meet.

The tram rumbled to a halt among dilapidated houses made of the pale grey clay that was found in large flats around the Water. Those near the main tram line were mostly occupied, with signs of maintenance and repair, but as he wandered further in he saw many houses abandoned and left to decay.

His destination was a warehouse in the north of the district. Before leaving Hermes he had received information from his employers that another of their operatives, a man going by the name Tzak, was inbedded in Campe as part of Karrow's organisation, and had been working towards the same goal as him. It had been suggested that they connect and combine their resources.

The building was like a dozen he had passed, all of the same pale brick. There was one big difference here, however. The other warehouses didnt have a helicopter parked in the yard outside. The slow dusk was drawing in by then, and Ben used its cover to move closer. There were lights inside the warehouse and movement through the windows. It was then he noticed that the large, double doors at one end of the building had been smashed in. Creeping closer still he found himself crouched against the wall beneath a broken window. He heard raised voices from inside.

".....but Mr Karrow, with Tzak and much of his crew missing, perhaps taken, we will be unable to bring in more merchandise. It's already hard enough to find fresh...."

"Leave that to me, Mr Paris. Prepare for a shipment. A large one. Here, consider this the first of many." Ben heard the jangle of a chain. He cautiously stood so that he could see inside the warehouse. There were five figures in the room. At the centre of the group was a stocky man of around forty, with dark, slightly greying hair. He had the look of a bulldog about him, a man clearly adapted to the rough and tumble of a place like Lithium. Karrow, thought Ben. Behind him stood two tall, well built men dressed in identical black suits. Bodyguards. Between them was a slim young man with blond hair. Even in profile Ben could see that he was a handsome kid. He was naked but for a thong, a leather gag, and a collar attached to a chain leash held by one of the guards. Lastly, facing Karrow was was a tall, well dressed man of middle years, this Mr Paris. His suit was a deep plum sylk and Ben felt that he recognised him from somewhere.

The guard with the leash stepped forward, pulling the boy behind him until he stood in front of Mr Paris, who eyed him like a merchant.

"Pretty." He stepped forward and ran his hands over the young man's body, first his chest, pulling at each pert nipple as he did, then across his belly to his crotch, where he cupped and weighed his cock and balls in their tiny pouch. "Is he any good?"

Karrow looked to one of his guards. "Clint. You tried him. Is he good fuck meat?"

"I only did his mouth, boss. Sucks OK, nuffin' special." The big guard.

"Perhaps a demonstration, then, if you two gentlemen are willing to oblige?" He looked.to the two guards who looked Karrow.

"By all means." He said, taking a seat at the side of the room.

Clint wasted no time. He pulled at the leash, forcing the young man to a kneeling position, no match for the guard's powerful arm.

"Nate, get his wrists." The other guard strode forward retrieving a set of wrist restraints from the pocket of his jacket. He crouched and roughly pulled the young man's hands behind his back, crossing them at the wrists before locking the restraint in place.

Clint had stripped his jacket and was now unbuttoning his shirt, exposing his hard chest and rippling stomach. His body was a perfect v dipping below his waistband. Ben almost pitied the young man, but even if he could somehow stop what was about to happen he wasn't sure he would. Seeing that handsome face looking up at the beast of a bodyguard had sent a wake up call to his dick.

Nate stood up and both guards towered over their victim. They were taking turns batting their hands across the slut's face, not to hurt him, not yet, more like tenderising. Nate pulled his pants open and his thick, beercan dick flopped out. He gave it a few strokes as Clint unfastened and removed the gag from the boy's mouth.

He didn't have long to breath freely. Nate hooked a thumb in his mouth, holding his jaw open, and quickly followed it with his hard cock, pushing in first half way then balls deep. Ben was impressed at how the slut took it, he had clearly had some training, and once the initial shock of intrusion he was able to accept repeated thrusts from Nate's fuck into his throat while barely choking.

As his buddy pummeled the slut's face, Clint crouched behind. He pulled a short knife from a harness on his ankle used it to cut the thong from his body, taking that last, meagre shred of modesty. His smooth, pink ass winked and Clint pushed one spit slick finger inside, then two, three, working and twisting his thick fingers into the slut's hole. The bitch moaned around Clint's dick, sounding more like an animal than a man.

Ben couldn't remember reaching for his own hard dick, but he found himself stroking himself through his clothes as he watched the two men do their work.

Clint knelt behind now, hard dick throbbing as it lay along the crack of the slut's ass. He spat on it, using his hand to work the saliva over the fat head or his prick, then lined it up with that tight little pucker. The slut moaned again, but Nate shut him up by ramming deep, slamming his balls against his chin. The two burly guards then power fucked the blond kid, timing their thrusts so that he was bounced back and forth between them, alternating between having his throat hammered and his ass impaled. All the while Clint held the leash, pulling it tight so that the collar constricted the slut's throat. That pale skin was livid red by the time Clint jackhammered his load deep into his guts.

Karrow and Paris were watching from the sidelines with deep, almost professional interest. Karrow spoke.

"You see. He will make a useful addition to our range of products." Nate had now taken Clint"s place at the slut's ass, pounding away to add his own load to that now sloppy, cum dripping hole.

"I suppose. Pretty rape meat like that always draws a crowd." Ben remembered then where he recognised the man. Arthur Paris, owner of a few of the seedier sex pits in Campe. He had been something of a local celebrity on Silicon Street when Ben had last been on Tartarus, often parading the street with a harem of men he had bought, persuaded or forced into sexual service for him. His venues were always popular with the hard working and hard drinking men of Campe, even Ben had visited one himself a few times. You could always find a cheap, no holds barred fuck at one of the Paris Pits. Nate let the slut slump to the ground.

"Where did you get him? Have you had a shipment I wasn't told about?" Paris eyed Karrow suspiciously.

"Of course not, man. I'm a man of my word." Karrow looked angry for a moment but it passed. "No, this is one of Belik's cast offs. A token apology for this mess." He gestured around the wrecked warehouse.

"And there are more to come?" Paris had now taken the leash from Clint and had pulled the young man back up to his knees.

"If the information I have is correct we may soon have more than we can handle." Paris raised his eyebrows.

"Then I look forward to our next meeting, Mr Karrow." The guards had by now put their clothes back on and straightened their suits, retaking their place flanking Karrow.

"I'll be in touch, Mr Paris. There is still much to do." With that the two men shook hands and parted, and Karrow headed into the yard followed by his guards. Ben ducked behind a rusted pitch barrel as the men crossed the yard to the helicopter and embarked. Ben watched as the blades began to spin, and remained hidden until the craft was airborne and moving away before creeping away from the warehouse and into the shadowed streets beyond.

He pondered the meaning of what he had seen. The first thing apparent was that his contact, Tzak, was missing, perhaps captured by the local authorities who had raided the building. Second, Karrow had become involved in the sex slave trade, and was expanding his influence in Campe, allying with one of the established sex pit owners. He wondered whether this had anything to do with his mission, after all Tzak had put himself at the centre of it. He would keep his eyes and ears open for more information.

With nothing left to do in Lithium he walked back to the tram stop, the image of that pretty, blond slut getting double teamed still fresh in his mind, stoking the fire in his balls. Seeing Jared that evening would be a challenge.