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- Belik
Belik descended the spiral stone staircase from the base of the southwest tower of the Governor's Office, down to the basement complex beneath. It had been little used when he had taken his post there, a network of vermin infested chambers known only to the janitorial staff as a place to store things that would never be used again, but Belik had seen the potential immediately.
Campe had a prison, of sorts. It seemed an oxymoron to have a prison on what is, in many ways, a prison world, but it was necessary to keep some of the more violently immoral men who came to Tartarus out of harms way from time to time. It was however, in Belik's opinion little more than a vast concrete animal pen. It served no purpose other than to contain.
The stairway ended at a heavy iron door flanked by two guards. They saluted in recognition and one reached to open the door. As he passed Belik swore he caught the smell of beer and something else on his breath. He made a mental note to look at his file. Inside was a bare stone passage lit by flickering electric lights that ran along the walls. Several other passages branched from the main one, but Belik continued on straight to another iron door at the far end. Opening it he stepped into a shorter hallway, this one lined on either side by yet more doors. A guard was stood sentry outside of one of these and it was to him that Belik headed.
"How is the prisoner?" Belik asked the guard.
"He can talk, sir." Good enough. Belik allowed the guards a little fun with the prisoners before interrogation. Call it a perk of the job. The only rule was that they must leave them unbroken. That was Belik's job. His passion. The guard unlocked the door, holding it open. Belik stepped inside and listened as the door shut behind him with a loud clang.
The stone walled room was lit from above by a bright, fluorescent light in the centre of the ceiling. Along the wall to his right were a set of identical metal cabinets, each with half a dozen drawers, and in the middle of the room was a large table of the kind used for surgery, but with some additions of Belik's own. A naked man of around thirty turns was currently strapped to it, a blindfold covering his eyes and a gag affixed to his mouth. Belik saw him stir at the noise of the door.
He had been taken during one of the raids on Karrow's warehouses. A smuggler out of Hermes, or so it had seemed at first. Belik had questioned the man himself, as he sometimes liked to do, and something about him did not seem right. The man had been more poised, more assured then the average smuggler, so Belik had ordered a closer examination of his credentials. These had proven to be counterfeit, and conventional questioning had failed to get at the truth.
He slowly walked around the table, his boots clicking against the stone floor, the sound echoing off the the bare walls. The prisoner began to breath faster. He was sure the guards had taught him to fear visitors. He could see bruises on the man's body from the beatings he had received, roses of black and purple blooming on his pale skin. Belik stopped at the man's side and placed a finger to a large bruise on the man's chest and saw him wince. A fractured rib. So uncouth. So artless.
"I see my men gave you a rather rough interview." Belik continued to slowly circle the prisoner. "They can get a little carried away at times."
The prisoner was breathing hard through the gag, spit gathering at the edges and dribbling over his chin. Belik enjoyed seeing the man trying so hard to surpress his fear, his chest heaving up and down, no doubt causing pain to his ribs. Pain was a blunt tool for extracting information. Belik knew of other tools. The intercom buzzed.
"Dr. Maslow is here, Sir." The guard's voice crackled through the speaker. Belik touched the panel on the wall by the door.
"Send him in." The iron door creaked open and in came a man in his mid forties, dark hair greying at the temples and a pair of antique reading glasses on his otherwise bland face. He carried with him a small tray containing ampoules of clear liquid, along with several hypodermic needles. He was followed in by a burly technician wheeling a stack of equipment.
"Good afternoon, Doctor." The man placed the tray with care on to one of the cabinets.
"Vice-Governor." The doctor nodded to prisoner. "You have need of my services?"
"Indeed." Belik gestured to the tray. "Is that the new serum?"
"It is, sir." The doctor selected one of the ampoules from the tray and held it up to the light. "The last set of test subjects proved to be more useful than anticipated. I have managed to improve the success rate considerably."
That was good news. The previous attempts had led to complete mental breakdown only six hours after the procedure began, long before anything useful could be obtained. The man on the table had fallen silent again, no doubt listening to what was being said. Belik turned to him, leaning slightly to address the man.
"The good doctor here is going to give you a little injection for your pain." It would help with that, certainly, thought Belik. The drug was designed to target the pleasure centres of the brain, to induce a feeling of euphoria in the subject. To call it a truth serum would be an injustice to the doctor's genius. It was closer to mind control, producing in the recipient a powerful desire to please, to obey. Combined with other treatments it was hoped that one could turn any man into an unthinkingly loyal and obedient slave.
Maslow took an ampoule and syringe from the tray and, piercing the lid with the needle he drew out the plunger. The liquid glistened in the cold light as it filled the tube. He withdrew the needle and pressed the plunger lightly, allowing a slither of liquid to spray from the end. He approached the table. The man began to struggle against his bonds, but he was too firmly secured to move much, and the doctor had little trouble locating a spot on his bicep to press the needle. The thin metal slid into his skin and the doctor pressed the plunger down until no liquid remained in the tube.
The effect was almost immediate. The man ceased struggling and relaxed onto the table. Belik now removed the man's blindfold. The doctor had told him that the serum caused the subject to fixate on the first person that they see upon taking it. This person then becomes the focus of their submissive impulses. The man's eyes were unfocused and dreamy at first, but as they looked at Belik as he stood over him they took on a look of devotion, even love. Belik removed the gag from the man's mouth and it hung open.
"How do you feel?" The man seemed not to hear at first but slowly his mouth began to move.
"I feel....I feel....good." He attempted a smile.
"Excellent. Do you know who I am?" The man's brow furrowed.
"No. I don't know." His eyes were now fixed on Belik.
"I am your master." The man mouthed the word before saying it.
"Master?" He was still looking up adoring at Belik.
"Yes. And that makes you my boy." The man smiled at this.
"Your boy."
"My good boy."
"Good boy."
"Do you want to be a good boy for your master?"
"Y....yes. Yes master."
"Good." The doctor was now arranging his equipment, attaching sensor pads to the man's body. He then took a piece of apparatus shaped to fit snugly over the man's crotch, enclosing his genitals completely. It was designed to stimulate him, to take him as close to orgasm as possible and hold him there on the edge. The doctor calibrated the machine and set it to run. The man closed his eyes and moaned.
"It feels good to obey, doesn't it?" The man moaned out again.
"Yes master. So good." He writhed against his restraints.
"Good boy." He gave the man a fatherly look and he grinned lopsidedly. "I will come and see you again very soon. Until then I want you to pay attention to your training." The doctor now held a VR headset. Belik stepped aside to allow the doctor to fit the device to the man's head. It would play a loop of images and sounds that would reinforce his sense of submission and dependence on his new master. Combined with the drug and the edging machine it would break him one way or the other. He turned to the doctor, who was connecting the last of the sensors to the monitoring equipment now arrayed behind the table. He turned to the doctor.
"I will vist again tomorrow, after lunch. I expect to be occupied all morning." He thought of the boy who would be starting as his secretary. He wanted some time to get to know him, how his strings work and how best to pull them. His work today with the serum was drudge work compared to what he wanted to do with the young Brother who had stumbled into his path. "Do you think he will still be able to talk by then?"
"My instinct is that this may be our first full success, Vice-Governor. He is stronger than most." Belik looked again at the man. It would be enough for him to surrender his secrets, but if he could truly be turned by the process he could make a valuable asset.
"We shall see." Belik stepped towards the door. The guard saluted as he stepped out and walked back the way he had come.
Belik's official apartments were located above his office, a spacious set of rooms that occupied the entire upper floor of the south west tower. Entering his bedroom he walked to his wardrobe, a room in itself. He browsed through his formal wear. That night he would have to attend a gathering of what constituted high society in Campe. The usual mix of jumped up mobsters, First Family colonists and TMC board members. He pulled a suit from the rail, a dark green velvet dinner suit that he knew accentuated his eyes. He lay it on the bed and undressed. As he stripped he admired himself in one of the mirrors placed around the room. He took pride in being an intimidating presence when he wanted to be, and as he stripped his shirt he allowed his hand to trail over his strong, hair covered chest. His stomach had a small paunch, not the rippling abdominals of his younger days, but it had its own benefits. Belik couldn't count the number of sluts he had bred because they miss their daddy's approval. Easy prey.
His thoughts turned again to Jared and his dick stirred. It had been too long since someone had stirred him up like this, with his innocent soul and oh so fuckable ass. Belik knew he could take him easily, one way or the other, but he wanted Jared to give himself, to submit because he knows it is right.
He pulled his trousers down over his muscular thighs and calves, discarding them on the floor before removing his briefs. His dick flopped out half hard, a glob of precum at the end. Belik rarely masturbated, he rarely needed to, but he couldn't help grabbing it then and fisting it a few times, picturing Jared on his knees. He walked to the bathroom door and went inside, touching the panel to start the shower. His hand was still on his dick as he stepped under the water, rock hard now and pulsing. He began pumping it faster, one hand on the wall, imagining all the ways he was going to use that little Brother, how he would make him submit, how he would replace his faith with a need to worship Belik instead. His dick felt huge in his hand as he jerked away furiously, throbbing and throbbing until with a sharp uprising of pleasure his load erupted across the shower wall.
He breathed deeply as he watched the thick, white semen slowly wash down the wall with the water before being swept into the drain.
After stepping from the drier he felt refreshed again, and more enthusiastic about his evening. It would be a dull affair, but they were where alliances were built, and he would need those. The old man was beginning to slouch in his thone.