The Order Chapter 2
The Order
Copyright © 2018 by Brad A. Townsend
All rights reserved. This story or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author (Brad A. Townsend).
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is entirely coincidental, or also used fictitiously.
Content warning: This story contains adult situations, language, and consensual sex between adult men. If said content is illegal in your state or country, please leave now and do not continue.
Chapter Two
Brad woke up seconds before the alarm went off at 0600. He hadn't slept well, and never did when Ken wasn't in bed with him.
Man, I bet he's going to be in a bad mood when he gets home... He hates the all-nighters.
Brad crawled out of bed, proceeding with his morning routine of running, working out, showering, and then getting something to eat. He hoped Ken would be back at the house by the time he finished, but when he opened the garage door Ken's Explorer was still gone.
Brad started to worry after lunch when he still hadn't heard anything. Brad wasn't one to be a mother hen; he didn't like anyone treating him that way, and Ken was the same way. Brad was, however, starting to get pissed that he hadn't even received a text message. He called Ken a few times, but his phone went straight to voicemail. He didn't leave a message, figuring Ken would see the missed call and get back to him.
Ken's silence was uncharacteristic, and Brad started to feel as if something was wrong. By 1500, he decided to call Kevin, thinking since Ken filled in for him on the schedule they might have talked. Kevin didn't pick up either, so Brad left him a voice message.
"Hey Kev, this is Brad. Have you heard from Ken? He's still not back from last night's job, and I haven't heard a word from him. Give me a call as soon as you can. Later."
Brad tried lying by the pool to take his mind off worrying. He listened to music on his iPod but couldn't relax, and his anxiety kept growing. After a while he pulled out the net and started cleaning the pool as a distraction, even though it didn't need it. With his earbuds in, Brad didn't hear Kevin opening the gate.
<>
Just as Kevin opened the gate, a series of events ensued nearly simultaneously. Three sharp points of pain hit Brad, one on his arm and two on his back. His arm jerked up and he dropped the pole as his back arched in pain, causing him to stumble and fall to one knee.
Brad looked up, trying to get his bearings and identify safe cover and saw Kevin running towards him from the gate. Kevin's mouth was moving, but Brad couldn't hear him. It dawned on him he no longer heard his iPod either. He convulsed in agony as blinding pain exploded through his body, and then blackness...
<><><>
Something was wrong. Brad's awareness was slowly returning, but everything was dark and quiet. His eyes were open, and his heart pounded in his chest. He tried to talk but couldn't move his mouth. He was breathing, so his autonomous systems were functioning, but somatic control was absent.
As Brad's Mind came back to full consciousness, an overwhelming sense of disconnectedness washed over him. Loneliness and isolation more intense than he ever experienced permeated his Mind. It wasn't just the darkness; a feeling of being utterly alone suffused his consciousness in a way he never experienced before. His enhanced intellect connected the dots and he realized Ken was gone. Brad had never been so overtly aware of his connection with Ken until it was suddenly absent, and it left a gaping hole in him.
Pushing down his panic, Brad's Mind began assessing his situation. Sheets against his skin and a pillow beneath his head told him he was in a bed. Air moved over the bare skin on his legs, arms, and chest, and he felt his swimming trunks. He remembered being worried about Ken, seeing Kevin, massive pain, and now he was on a bed in some sort of sensory deprived state.
He was awake and aware, but everything felt wrong. Fear, frustration, and anxiety caused a hot tear to form that dripped down his cheek onto the pillow.
Kevin stood beside his bed observing him and saw the tear.
"Doc! Something's happening!"
Kevin watched helplessly as he stood by his friend. He wanted to hold Brad's hand to at least try and comfort him, but the doctor insisted on no skin contact with Brad until he said so.
<><>
Kevin was confused by what he saw as he passed through the gate into their backyard. He had just gotten off work when he received Brad's voice message, and since he and Bill lived so close, he figured he'd run by their house to see what was up.
When he arrived at Brad and Ken's house the garage door was closed and no one answered the front door, so he figured Brad was out back by the pool. He went around the side of the house and practically being family, didn't hesitate to open the gate and head on back. If he was lucky maybe Brad was working on his tan au naturel. Although Kevin was genuinely in love with Bill, just like any hot-blooded gay man he loved to see a good-looking naked man full of muscles, and Brad more than qualified. As soon as Kevin saw Brad in his shorts cleaning the pool he was disappointed, and he chuckled to himself thinking: I'm such a whore.
At that moment Brad's arm jerked and he arched his back, crying out in pain. Out of nowhere, three dark pronounced bruises appeared on his arm and back. To Kevin's wartime experience, from the way Brad reacted it looked like he had been shot. Surprise crossed Brad's face for a split second and then Kevin, with his enhanced vision, saw Brad's bright blue eyes briefly turn white and roll up into his head. Kevin moved as fast as he could as Brad dropped to one knee, and just before Kevin reached him, Brad's body convulsed and collapsed to the pavement, unconscious.
<><>
At Kevin's exclamation, Dr. Thomas quickly moved to Brad's bedside. His voice was quiet, and he looked both sad and concerned.
"Ah, my poor boy. I know you cannot hear me yet, but I am so sorry. It will be better soon."
Dr. Thomas picked up a syringe he had prepared earlier and put it in the catheter attached to the back of Brad's hand.
"Kevin, help me strap him down. He will wake up soon and might panic. We need to restrain him so he cannot hurt himself. He may be confused and might not make sense, so do not be alarmed."
<><>
Brad was near the limit of his control. The agonizing loneliness and isolation in him were more than he could take. The depth of his love for Ken hit him like a Mack truck and Ken's absence, as though he never existed, created a hole in him that was about to kill him. As much as he cared for his military brothers and Dr. Thomas, life without Ken wasn't worth living. Brad's Mind raced, spinning with dark and negative thoughts. How long had he felt that way? Days? Weeks? With no sense of time, his loneliness seemed to go on forever.
A whisper, barely discernable in the silence, jolted him. Brad stilled his thoughts to listen and every iota of his being strained to feel or hear anything that might tell him what was happening or where he was. The whisper came again but was still too unclear to make out, and he started to sweat from the strain of listening and proof he wasn't alone!
Dr. Thomas looked at Brad's straining form, his eyes expressing compassion for his young charge. He knew what Brad experienced and deeply regretted being the source of such emotional distress. How strange this entire affair occurred the day after Ken unlocked another of his abilities. He wanted to believe it was coincidence but suspected otherwise. Even without all the facts, his impressive intellect began piecing together parts of the puzzle, and he didn't like the picture forming in the slightest.
"Kevin, I need you to gather everyone as quickly as possible. While you take care of that, I will see what information Bradford might have that can shed some light on what is happening."
"Yes, sir. Right away."
Dr. Thomas regretted concealing information from Kevin, but he needed to talk to Brad alone. He was still unsure about revealing the new development between Ken and Brad to the others. It was a significant and essential step in their evolution but could be dangerous if Kevin and the others weren't ready. Brad and Ken had always been slightly more advanced than the rest of the team physically, emotionally, and Mentally. The others would reach the same stage eventually, but on the path he set these remarkable young men on, his philosophy was to let nature take its course and not interfere more than he already had.
With Kevin gone, the doctor took Brad's hand and said, "Bradford. Come back, my boy. It is time to wake up."
The whispers became louder, and Brad was on the verge of making out words. He sensed motion and felt seasick. Someone squeezed his hand, and his heart leapt inside his chest. Ken!? The touch was like an anchor, and he fought with every ounce of his will to grab hold and pull himself towards it.
The feeling of movement strengthened as the darkness receded, and a pinpoint of light appeared in the dark. The light slowly expanded, and he heard a voice, but the volume was still too low.
Suddenly Brad woke up. In an instant, his vision, hearing, and other senses became active again. The sudden shift was jarring, and his breath caught in surprise.
Dr. Thomas, looking into Brad's eyes, noted immediately when there was recognition.
"Hello, Bradford, welcome back."
Brad wasn't able to speak right away. He felt immense relief at being out of the darkness but the void in him, the absence of Ken, was still there. More tears fell, and all he could bring himself to say was, "Doc, he's gone."
He closed his eyes, and his body shook quietly in grief.
The doctor placed his hands on Brad's bare shoulders, gripping him firmly.
"Bradford, look at me, son."
Brad looked up, his normally blue eyes red and glassy from the intense emotions running through him. When he made eye contact with the doctor, he saw many things; compassion first and foremost, and concern, but also uncertainty and fear. In all his years with the doctor, Brad had never seen him that way.
"We do not know that. I will not lie to you, son. Kenneth is not with us, and I assume he is in great danger, but you are our best chance to find him. I need you to focus on that."
"Why can't I feel him, doc? Our connection must have grown so gradually I never realized it was there until it was gone. I've never felt so alone."
"That is my fault, Bradford, and I am deeply sorry. Typically, after the trauma you experienced, I would handle things differently. In this instance, because of what you experienced I have temporarily suppressed your connection with Kenneth. It is necessary for multiple reasons. First and foremost, it probably saved your life. Your new connection to Kenneth is still developing, and you experienced whatever happened to him. I had to stop it before it killed you."
Brad sounded desperate, almost hysterical, and he tried to grab the doctor's arms, but the restraints kept him from doing so.
"Please, doc," he pleaded, "You have to undo whatever you did!"
"I will son, I will, but we must proceed with some level of caution. I do not believe Kenneth is dead. You have to remember how hard it would be to kill any of the five Bodies, but you, while very tough in your own right, could be killed by what would merely incapacitate one of them.
"What is happening is new to you, and I have no wish to cause you or Kenneth any permanent damage by rushing in blindly. Kevin is gathering everyone, and in a few moments you and I will meet with them and begin formulating a plan. Let us get you cleaned up and into some clothes."
<><><>
Brad took a quick shower and put on some spare clothes from his locker; just jeans, a t-shirt, and sandals. The doctor came in and gave him a shot to continue the suppression of his connection to Ken. He didn't like it but understood.
Not long after, everyone arrived and sat at the conference room table. The guys were stunned at Brad's haggard appearance when they first came in. Every one of them gave him an encouraging hug or pat on the back and asked how he was holding up. They immediately saw how emotionally uptight he was, and their natural instinct was to close ranks around him in support.
When Dr. Thomas came in, everyone stopped talking and focused on him.
"As you all know, Kenneth appears to be missing. Most likely he has been abducted. No one has attempted to contact us, so we must assume it is not a ransom, which means they must want something from him, and we have a limited amount of time to rescue him before they succeed in getting whatever it is they want.
"Bradford, please go over the events starting from yesterday afternoon to present."
Brad glanced at him, "Everything, Sir?"
"Yes, Bradford. I have reassessed my reasons. I wish to protect you all, but events are accelerating my plans for you far ahead of schedule. The timing of this is terrible, but secrets only serve to cause suspicion and doubt."
Brad's hands gripped the lectern tightly enough that his triceps and forearms flexed, tightening his t-shirt. He took a deep breath and started recounting events.
"Okay... well, Ken got home about 1700 yesterday from his workout with Bry and Kev. I was putting groceries away when he got home. After I finished, I gave him his usual post-workout exam, which led to..."
Trying to lighten the mood a few of the guys chimed in with a "Boom Chicka Bow Wow," which caused Brad to blush and even crack a smile.
"Alright, you fuckers. Yes, we started making out. Sorry about the F-Bomb, doc."
Brad related the events again telling his teammates everything.
"...And what happened next was the most amazing, mind-blowing, over the top sex we've ever had. The charge I got was unbelievable. I was able to lift both of us off the bed without any effort."
There were various "Oh, shit" looks among them as what Brad said sank in.
Kevin blurted out, "Brad, wait a second. When I got to your place and I saw you experience whatever that was, your eyes changed color just like you said Ken's did."
The doctor interjected, "What Kenneth succeeded in doing was Linking his nervous system with Bradford's. That is what allowed them to feel each other's sensations. It is a remarkable ability, and when fully under control by both parties what is currently happening will not be an issue. The timing of Kenneth uncovering this new ability is bad, however it might be the key to rescuing him if our other attempts fail.
"Although I do not know who is behind Kenneth's abduction, I believe I have pieced together some of what happened based on the evidence exhibited by Bradford's injuries.
"Whoever abducted Kenneth is aware that he, and most likely you four," the doctor glanced at Bryan, Rick, Pat, and Kevin, "are physically exceptional. The kidnappers knew they needed to ambush Kenneth to incapacitate him, and carefully planned their assault. Somehow, they orchestrated his isolation and shot him with three heavy tranquilizer darts followed up immediately by multiple Tasers.
"The neural pairing between Kenneth and Bradford is still active but suspended. This is dangerous, and in the future, once this ability is fully understood and controlled, it should not be kept active as it is now. As soon as I stop the suppression in Bradford, the connection will be active again, but it puts Bradford at risk depending on Kenneth's current condition. There is no way whoever has taken him will know of this so we might be able to use it to our advantage.
"I believe the tranquilizers used to incapacitate Kenneth were nearly potent enough to kill him. Fortunately, this did not happen and his heightened metabolism burned through them earlier today. Once that occurred the Link reestablished with Bradford, coinciding with Kevin's arrival at their house. It was a delayed reaction, and Kenneth's nervous system inadvertently broadcast what happened to him onto Bradford as his Mind woke back up, and Bradford's body received the same injuries. It was as if they happened to both of them simultaneously but with a time delay caused by the tranquilizers.
"If Kenneth were in control of his faculties, he would realize what is happening and stop it. I do not think he would risk Bradford's wellbeing even if it meant his own demise. So, we must assume he is still incapacitated in some way, which is why I am reluctant to stop the suppression.
"Before I consider taking that route, we need to exhaust all other, more conventional means of investigation. Richard and Loy, you will lead the on-site investigation. You all have your areas of expertise. Bradford, if he is up to it, will stay here and run the operation. If he is unable for any reason to continue, William can take over. Gentlemen, you are the most elite group of men in the world. We know whoever captured Kenneth had the knowledge and skill to take him out unaware. We are not unaware. From now on none of you goes anywhere alone. Stay sharp and alert, and we will prevail."
Rick and Loy, accompanied by Pat and Darren, left immediately to head downtown to the hotel. Kevin said he had some ideas that might pan out, so he and Bill went to the office to talk with Sally. Bryan and Lane stayed in the Lab ready to do whatever was needed as more information became available.
Bryan and Lane stayed close to Brad, trying to keep him occupied while maintaining an eye on him. Bryan's steadfast presence was comforting, and Lane's chatter kept Brad from withdrawing further into himself.
<><><>
Dr. Boris Cromwell stared intently at his new test subject, sitting restrained in the holding cell. Ken was one of the most magnificent male specimens Dr. Cromwell had ever seen. Whoever created him had outdone themselves. The name on his driver's license and the credit cards found in his wallet said Kenneth Habersham, but Dr. Cromwell knew those were fake. Despite his best efforts he could not discover Ken's true identity, and it vexed him. Someone had gone to incredible lengths to make sure Ken's past remained hidden.
The initial blood and tissue samples showed Ken to be in perfect health. Too perfect, in fact. The DNA results were phenomenal and obviously not natural, showing genetic markers and patterns Dr. Cromwell had never seen before. The full MRI and CT Scans revealed an uncanny muscle and bone density, and countless additional subtle modifications to compensate for the changes. Dr. Cromwell considered himself a genius, but he quickly became lost as he looked at Ken's test results.
Based on the information he received from General Burgess the results were not unexpected, but he had to admit he was skeptical of what the General told him. The General was a military man and not a scientist, and Dr. Cromwell thought his descriptions of Ken too farfetched to believe.
The sound of an alert from one of the many monitors attached to Ken pulled his eyes away from the test results; they were so intriguing he could not stop staring at them. His eyes widened slightly in surprise. For the level of sedatives he administered, Ken's level of brain activity should have been impossible.
Ken's body was burning through the tranquilizers much faster than expected, so Dr. Cromwell switched to something less lethal and more mentally disabling. The new mixture was more potent and should keep Ken's brain in a fog and make him extremely susceptible to suggestion.
<><><>
As Ken came to, his first realization was that he felt awful. The bruises and lacerations on his arm and back hurt like hell. He was sore all over and felt like he needed to throw up. He tried to be still and calm himself but couldn't find his center. The place in his Mind where he controlled his abilities was present but unavailable, as if an invisible barrier surrounded it he could not penetrate. Surprisingly, he wasn't upset about it even though he knew he should be worried.
Ken couldn't see anything and quickly realized he was blindfolded. He was naked except for some underwear or shorts, and sitting in a sturdy metal chair, unable to move.
The only other thought he had before he lost consciousness again was "Man, Brad is gonna be pissed I'm late..."
Dr. Cromwell called for Robert, one of his junior assistants, to come to the command center.
"Dr. Cromwell, Sir? You called?"
Robert sounded nervous. He rarely interacted with Dr. Cromwell directly and was scared and intimidated by the man.
"Yes, Robert. I require your assistance."
"Of course, Sir, whatever you need, I'll be more than happy to help with."
"I'm sure you are aware of our newest guest, the center of my current research project. We are running a series of tests, and I need a new sample from him. I thought you would be well suited for this task."
Robert was confused, "What type of sample do you need, Sir?"
"I need a semen sample. There are reproductive markers I am looking for that did not show up in the tissue DNA samples we acquired. I am aware of your tastes in men, and I thought you would be well suited to gather this sample for me. He might be difficult to arouse because of the mental state we are keeping him in to prevent his escape. Can you do this for me?"
Robert was stunned and had no idea the doctor knew he was gay. He stammered a bit as he replied, "Um. Uh, of course, Sir. I'll do my best."
"You haven't seen our test subject yet, Robert. I think you will be pleased and there will be no need to restrain yourself. Do whatever you find necessary to get that sample, multiple samples if you can manage it. We will give you privacy from the other technicians while you perform this task, however we will need to record everything for the sake of our research."
Robert's worry quickly changed to excitement at Dr. Cromwell's words.
"Of course, Sir," he smiled, "I'll head to the holding cell immediately. I won't disappoint you."
"No, my boy, I'm sure you won't. The information you are helping us gather will be invaluable to our research."
When Robert arrived at the door to the holding cell the glass was already polarized into an opaque state. He was surprised at the weaponry the guards carried. Whoever the test subject was must be important or possibly dangerous. Robert showed his I.D. badge to the security guard, who swiped his smart card. Almost immediately there followed a solid thunk as the door bolts pulled back, and a slight hiss as the seals opened.
Robert stepped into the room and stopped in his tracks, awestruck. He had never gotten so hard so fast. The most perfect man on the planet sat in front of him, practically naked, blindfolded, and strapped to a chair. Ken's physique was beyond words, like a comic book superhero. Robert couldn't imagine how much time Ken must spend at the gym to look like he did.
As soon as the door closed behind Robert Ken's head whipped around in his direction. When the thunk and hiss of the door stopped some of the tension drained out of his posture. Robert was mesmerized, staring at the man in front of him while his erection strained against the material of his pants.
Robert could only stare, his eyes slowly going over every inch of the tanned, muscled body in front of him. As his eyes continued to roam, he began noticing more and more detail about Ken that elevated his excitement. Ken had just the right amount of hair on his chest and Robert couldn't see the color of his eyes because of the blindfold, but in his fantasy Ken's eyes were dark brown, almost black. His hair was dark brown and short, cut close on the back and sides and longer on top making him look military. He hadn't shaved for a few days, and the scruff on his face added to his ruggedly handsome features.
Ken's deep voice resonated through his rock-hard chest, but his words were slurred like he was drunk.
"B, is that you?"
Robert seized the opportunity and replied, "Yeah, it's me."
"Oh God, B. I was worried you'd be pissed 'cause I was late. I can't see you, man. I can hear you, but I can't see you. Can you let me up?"
"No, I can't... Not yet. It's part of the game."
"Game?"
"Oh yeah... I think you're going to like it."
Robert set the sample containers he brought on the small table in front of Ken. Taking off his Lab coat and loosening his tie, Robert walked behind Ken. Reaching out his hands he felt the heat emanating from Ken's body, and it caused him to tremble with excitement.
"B..."
As soon as Robert's hands touched Ken's skin he turned into a wild man, wanting to feel each and every muscle at the same time. Robert ran his hands through the sparse hair on Ken's chest, squeezing his biceps, shoulders, and pecs, touching every part of Ken's body he could reach from his vantage point behind the chair. Robert looked down and noticed the substantial tent in Ken's shorts.
"Oh God, B... Your hands feel so good."
Ken leaned his head back in pleasure causing his neck to thicken which made Robert even harder, and a wet spot appeared on his slacks.
Robert moved around to Ken's front and practically tore his clothes off. He was thin and pale with a small triangular patch of hair on his upper chest and a small circle around each nipple. Robert wasn't muscular, and any definition he had was because he was thin and bony. He was sweating from excitement.
Ken smelled Roberts excitement in his sweat, but something was not right. His brain wanted to tell him it wasn't Brad but the suggestive state his Mind was in from the sedatives overrode that thought, reinforcing the idea that it was Brad in front of him.
Robert knelt down and began to run his hands over Ken's chest and play with his nipples like a kid in a candy store. Robert was inexperienced, and the situation was a dream come true, to have a stud like Ken tied up and blindfolded and at his mercy.
The illusion of Brad's hands felt so good Ken's erection strained against his shorts, and a wet spot was already visible on the fabric from his excitement. He wanted to feel Brad's hands on him and even more, to touch him back.
Robert saw the wet spot and freed Ken's dick from the confines of the tight shorts. Ken's erection felt so good in his hands, hot and velvety and hard enough to cut diamonds. Ken's dick has the same strength and density as the rest of his body and when his flexed it in pleasure, it was strong enough that it pulled out of Robert's grip.
Robert couldn't wait any longer and leaned over, taking as much of the head and shaft into his mouth as he could manage. Robert had only sucked off a few men and didn't have much practice, but he didn't have a gag reflex and was hopeful he could manage to get all of Ken's length down his throat. Resting one hand on each massive thigh, Robert started bobbing his head up and down, putting everything he had into his efforts.
Ken moaned, and his head lolled from side to side. Robert was quickly bringing him to the point of no return as his body reacted in the manner Dr. Cromwell predicted. Ken didn't realize the deception, with his drug-hazed Mind confused and his senses betraying him.
From his vantage point between Ken's thighs, Robert looked up and saw Ken's muscles, squirming as much as the straps allowed, sweating from the pleasure that he, Robert, was giving him. Robert's excitement peaked, and he started shooting on Ken's leg. When Ken felt Robert's hot cum squirt on his leg, it triggered his own orgasm.
"Oh fuck, B, I'm gonna shoot... don't stop man, don't stop!"
Robert knew Ken was going to be a gusher. There was no way such a stud couldn't shoot a gallon of cum and probably have ten orgasms a day. Robert was so caught up in the moment and power of controlling the big stud's orgasm he forgot to use a sample cup. He swallowed as much as he could and then pulled up, so just the head was in his mouth while his hand stroked Ken through his orgasm.
"UH, UH, Ohhhhhh Fuckkkkkkkkk!"
Ken's entire body tensed, causing his muscles to flex and contract, emphasizing his incredible definition. Sweat dripped off him, and the stark lighting in the room accentuated Ken musculature making him look even hotter.
Robert thought he was prepared for Ken's discharge, but his eyes popped open in surprise. Ken's dick, if possible, went even harder as he started shooting into Robert's waiting mouth. Robert tried to swallow as much as he could, but couldn't keep up, and Ken's hot salty load dripped down his chin.
Ken's chest heaved, and he kept moaning, "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck..." with every stroke of Robert's hand.
Dr. Cromwell observed Robert's efforts privately on a monitor in his office. As soon as Ken started to ejaculate, he flipped a switch that caused Ken to lose consciousness again, then sat back and continued to watch.
Robert was in heaven. He just sucked off the stud of all studs, and Ken remained his to play with. Robert still needed a sample, so he had to work Ken up again right away. Ken shot enough to fill one of the cups, so if he came almost as much the next two times, Robert would have plenty for Dr. Cromwell.
When Robert caught his breath, he noticed Ken was still and breathing slow and deep.
"Damn, he fell asleep."
Robert stood up and put his hands on Ken's shoulders, trying to shake him awake, but Ken's body barely budged.
"Holy crap, this guy is solid."
Robert tried harder but suddenly felt light-headed. He straightened up as excruciating pain wracked his entire body. It was so intense and abrupt he couldn't even scream. Robert's back arched, and he fell to the floor overcome by a massive seizure. In seconds he stopped breathing, his body lifeless and his face a mask of horrible pain.
Dr. Cromwell observed Robert's death as if he expected it. He wasn't sure how the genetic markers in Ken's DNA worked, how they got there, or what purpose they served but he was determined to discover Ken's secrets and duplicate them. Dr. Cromwell was sure Robert's autopsy results would reveal something significant. General Burgess was paying a high price for his research and expected results, and Dr. Cromwell was not one to disappoint powerful allies.
Later that afternoon the autopsy on Robert showed massive cellular breakdown in his body as if his DNA unraveled and all the proteins and cells in his body denatured and burst apart. Even more intriguing was evidence of genetic remodeling with the disruption. If the process had been slower, Robert most likely would have become a giant puddle of plasma. As it was the progression happened blindingly fast, and Robert's body could not stand the assault on his cellular structure and he died almost instantly.
Dr. Cromwell knew he would have to accelerate matters to achieve results. He thought it a pity he could not spare Ken.
"Let us see what you can do, my friend, before that magnificent body of yours gives out."
As Ken regained consciousness, he was spread eagle on a cold metal table. Metal bindings replaced the leather straps on his wrists, ankles, chest, biceps, thighs, and abdomen. A surprisingly comfortable padded leather device held his head mostly immobile, allowing for some movement. Except for a blindfold he was naked and felt dozens of stinging sensations all over his body.
There was movement all around him and he identified a number of distinct smells. He attempted to focus but found that place in his Mind still unavailable. He gave no outward sign of his frustration or worry but knew he was in trouble.
Ken's memory was foggy, but he recalled being shot with multiple tranquilizer darts and tasers. He vaguely remembered a make-out session with Brad, which confused him - maybe that was a dream, but damn it seemed real - and now he was strapped to a table. Normally Ken had an excellent sense of time, but his internal clock was confused from being unconscious and drugged. He had no idea how long it had been since his capture, but it was long enough for him to be ravenously hungry and his stomach rumbled loudly.
Dr. Cromwell stared at Ken obsessively, as if he could discern the vast, world-changing secrets of his existence simply by watching him. Dr. Cromwell noted the signs and knew immediately when Ken was awake. With the test results so far, Dr. Cromwell managed to produce more effective and efficient serums to use against Ken's advanced physiology and metabolism.
"Ahhh... You are awake. And famished! Let me see what I can do about that."
Dr. Cromwell flipped a switch, and a concentrated protein solution started pumping into Ken at multiple points in his body through various catheters. Additional liquids to prevent dehydration and restore electrolytes also started feeding into his body and he felt an immediate boost in his energy level although it did little to appease his hunger.
Ken's Mental faculties were unavailable, but his physical senses were unaffected. He counted 52 points on his body that hurt. Some were catheters, but others felt like needles or electrodes. He recognized the familiar beeps and clicks of lab equipment from all his years of working with the doctor.
"We are finalizing your preparation for the next phase. In a few more minutes we can begin."
Applying his senses, Ken tried to visualize the man talking to him. He heard the stiff cloth of a starched Lab coat and the slight, practically inaudible squeak of a stool rotating as the man moved. He smelled pipe tobacco. The man's English was fluent, but Ken detected the trace of an accent underneath. It seemed Slavic in nature, but he wasn't sure.
Ken's training was at work trying to form a profile, building and processing information to identify where he was, who held him captive, and what specifically they wanted. He had a good idea already, and it didn't bode well for his future.
Ken heard typing on a keyboard followed by a faint Beep. After a slight delay, the back of his hand burned mildly as some chemical entered his body through the catheter. A warm sensation quickly spread over his body, his skin flushed, and he immediately became erect. Ken tried as hard as possible to will his erection down but couldn't do it. In seconds he was fully hard; it was chemically induced and hard to the point of discomfort.
Ken heard Dr. Cromwell stand and move over to him. A gloved hand gripped his erection, and the rubber gloves felt cool against the heat of his dick. Suddenly, he felt a sharp sting just under the head of his penis, then another on his shaft, then another, and then two on each of his balls.
Ken decided to break his stoic silence asking, "What the fuck do you want from me?"
"Nothing you can give me voluntarily. I'm sure you could tell me quite a bit about yourself if you were so inclined, but I could never be certain of the truthfulness of your information. Therefore, I have no choice but to gather the information I need through... other means."
Ken didn't like the sound of that.
"We have already gathered much information, although I'm a bit upset about losing one of my promising young researchers. At least Robert died happy."
Right away, Ken knew Dr. Cromwell referred to his dream of making out with Brad. It was a hallucination, and Ken killed some poor guy without meaning too. He was already angry at being taken, but Robert's death added to his list of paybacks once his buddies rescued him.
"The next phase I believe you will find most pleasurable, at least at the beginning. Later, perhaps not so much, however there is nothing you can do about it. Fight all you wish, but it will not matter. I've learned enough to shut down your brain activity. I intend to learn everything I can from your body while you are still alive, and the rest after you have expired."
Ken was seriously pissed off yet completely helpless, at least for the time being. If his captors wanted a fight, he would give them one. Ken knew Brad and the guys would already be searching for him, and he had to give them time and hold out as long as he could. Just thinking of Brad boosted his inner resolve, and he couldn't help thinking how much he loved the man who was his best friend and partner. He sucked in a deep breath to steady himself.
Come on guys, get a move on and get me outta here.
"Okay you fucker, quit playin' with my dick and get on with it."
"Bravo, my boy. That's the spirit! I want you to fight as long as you can... The longer you last, the more information I will be able to gather."
Cromwell moved away to type, and another Beep soon followed.
Within seconds Ken's body broke out in a light sweat. Nearby fans started up, and a soft breeze brushed over his sweaty skin inducing a pleasant, soothing sensation. He was also, quite suddenly, horny. Someone else approached the table and grabbed his erection again, holding it firmly.
Ken wasn't prepared for the strength or intensity of the orgasm that hit him. Every muscle in his body tightened, and he would have come off the table if he hadn't been strapped down. Cum shot out of his dick splattering into some kind of plastic container. He could barely breathe, and his whole body turned beet red; in a matter of seconds, his tanned muscular body shone with a heavy sweat.
Dr. Cromwell's eyes widened in surprise at the reaction of Ken's body when his orgasm struck so unexpectedly. His musculature was incredible, and Dr. Cromwell found himself getting excited despite his clinical detachment. He would have to review the recordings later in private.
Ken couldn't help himself and cried out, "Oohhhhh Fuck! Uh, Uh, Uh."
He breathed heavy, his chest heaving as he sucked in air, and his abs tightened with each breath and contraction of his dick. The orgasm lasted over a minute. As he lay recovering from the unexpected barrage on his libido he heard the technician moving around and then whoever it was wrapped their hand around him again holding him firmly.
Beep.
Ken braced for the next orgasm and almost before he was ready another one hit him just as intense as the first. This time Ken forced himself to keep quiet. He felt his body recuperating as fluids and proteins pumped into him through the catheters.
The orgasms were so intense they bordered on painful, although none of them held a candle to the last time he made out with Brad. That was a one-time event so far. Ken wasn't sure how long he could hold up if they continued. He hoped they got all the samples they needed for their research quickly.
Beep.
Ken lost track of time and how many orgasms he endured. His dick and his body ached, but he didn't let on. They continued pumping fluids and protein into his body, and his body did what it was designed to do; recover as quickly as possible.
After an hour and dozens of orgasms, Ken lost consciousness from sheer exhaustion. His body continued to twitch and spasm even after he passed out.
Dr. Cromwell was more than impressed. In the next phase, he would stop the fluid and protein intake and see how long Ken could last and how his body tried to recover without aid. He was interested to see how Ken's physiology would prioritize its recovery.
After a few minutes, Dr. Cromwell forced Ken back to consciousness. When Ken came to he was struck immediately by the strong smell in the room. Even though they were capturing his semen, some splattered on him, and he must have sweated a gallon. His mind drifted to Brad to find strength for the next round. Breathing deep, and smelling his sweat and cum he thought:
Brad would so love this.
Ken lost consciousness again after nine orgasms without the replenishing fluids and proteins. He stopped sweating at five, and from then on, the amount of cum steadily dropped until his last orgasm was practically dry. Ken never made a sound, not wanting to give them any satisfaction.
Dr. Cromwell was in awe of Ken's physiology. The way his body controlled and monitored itself without his conscious control, the way it redirected resources and repaired itself was something he never even thought possible. Whoever created him was a biological Einstein. Dr. Cromwell was only scratching the surface, and it would take him years to process the data he already collected. He was excited to move on to the next stage.
They gave Ken thirty minutes and then started the flow of fluids and proteins again to let his body regenerate. Someone wiped him down, cleaning off the cum that had splattered out of the containers and they swabbed him down with some type of antiseptic.
Ken felt like he could sleep for days to recover from all the orgasms. He kept thinking of Brad and the guys looking for him, willing them to move faster. He had a bad feeling about what was coming next.
Ken was a trained Navy SEAL, and normally it would take far more than his current situation to break his resolve, but the chemical attack on his Mind that impaired the control over his abilities also affected his will. His determination faltered even as he fought to hold on. His emotional and Mental struggle was grueling, and he vacillated between holding on and feeling guilty for not being strong enough.
As soon as Ken smelled pipe tobacco again, he knew his captor was back.
"Well my boy, you are exceeding anything I could have imagined. Whoever made you is a genius, and I am jealous of his intellect and vision. I am going to make it my life's work to duplicate and even improve upon what he has done."
Ken knew he shouldn't say anything, but his gut was telling him he was not going to survive. Instead of prolonging the pain, he would rather have it over sooner.
I'm sorry Brad, I think I've failed you'n the guys. I guess I'm bein' a coward, but I don't know if I'm up `ta this. I love you so much, I hope you know that.
"You stupid fucker. Compared `ta him you're in diapers, suckin' on your mom's hind tit and shittin' out guacamole into your Huggies. You'll never figure this out. Just get it over with."
Dr. Cromwell's face went stony. His lips pursed and his voice went cold.
"We shall see."
The change in Dr. Cromwell's tone was clear. Ken's plan was working, but he was going to pay for it. More typing on the keyboard ensued, and Ken heard the attitude in Cromwell's typing as he pounded the keyboard. Ken started the countdown.
Three. Two. One. Beep.
There was a slight hiss that sounded hydraulic, and the shackle holding Ken's right wrist raised up a quarter of an inch. It slammed down hard, catching him by surprise. Ken didn't know it, but it came down with enough force to break an ordinary man's wrist.
Ken steeled himself, and other than letting out an "Oomph" of surprise he remained stoic.
Beep.
The shackle rose and slammed down again; this time much harder. Ken tensed his body getting ready for the next one. He started sweating.
Beep.
His wrist splintered. It took everything he had not to yell, and his breath was coming in gasps from dealing with the pain.
Beep.
Ken's wrist snapped, and he screamed.
Beep.
The shackle on his left wrist rose.
Oh, Fuck!
By the time his left wrist snapped, Ken's voice was hoarse from screaming. His body strained, bowing from the pain and pushing his chest up. He struggled so hard the metal band across his chest bent, breaking a few ribs in the process. His body raised enough for the blindfold to catch on the corner of the leather headpiece and Ken saw Dr. Cromwell's long thin face staring back at him. They made eye contact for a brief second before the pain pushed Ken over the edge into unconsciousness.
Dr. Cromwell ignored Ken's screams as he watched his body react to the inflicted pain and damage. Glancing towards the monitors, he smiled as the data flowed. The neurological information he was recording was off the charts, and he was almost giddy at what he saw.
Dr. Cromwell increased the flow of nutrients and added a highly concentrated mix of vitamins and antibiotics. He would have included painkillers if Ken had kept his mouth shut. He kept Ken unconscious for a few additional minutes while he set the bones, wanting them to heal correctly so he could break them again.
Next time, he thought, it will be his thigh bones; something more substantial and traumatic to his body.
He didn't like the boy's attitude.
Dr. Cromwell was thrilled with the results. Almost before he could set the bones, they started knitting back together. At the rate he witnessed they would fully heal in a matter of hours.
Next time he would hold back on the nutrients and see how long it took.
<><><>
Rick, Loy, Pat, and Darren drove downtown to the Hilton where Ken worked the previous night. They talked with Hotel security and reviewed the available camera footage. The Atlanta Police were still holding Tyrone and his friends, and Lil'B was pressing charges as well as the Hilton. Ken was in trouble with the Atlanta PD because he never showed up for his incident report. Pat and Darren checked, and Ken's Explorer was still in the Parking Garage where the valet had parked it.
None of the information gleaned so far was good news. There was some confusion once they reviewed the security footage and audio coverage. The head of hotel security didn't recognize the voice that instructed Ken to head to the loading dock. It didn't make sense because the Atlanta PD had set up a small conference room off the lobby to take everyone's statements. Rick managed to retrieve a digital recording of the file but doubted they could identify the voice instructing Ken to head to the location of the ambush.
Rick and Loy traced the route Ken should have taken from the front of the building to the loading dock. When they reached the corner, Rick scanned the area. He saw a broken pair of aviator sunglasses against the curb that looked like they had been run over multiple times. He was sure they were Ken's.
Everyone was frustrated with the lack of information. The thought of Ken, not only their leader but their Brother being taken from them, tore them up inside. Why or how after all the years they had been safe and anonymous in their new lives could something like this happen? The pressure to find their best friend consumed them. God only knew what was being done to him while they ran into dead end after dead end. The lack of evidence proved whoever was behind Ken's abduction knew precisely what they were doing.
Rick stood with his hands on his hips and exclaimed, "Fuck! If it happened, it had to be right here! This spot is out of sight of any of the security cameras, and there are at least two vantage points where someone could have gotten off an easy shot."
He pointed to the two side streets about half a block down in either direction.
Loy didn't look any happier but was trying to stay positive and said, "Well, let's check them both out. Surely one of them will turn up something."
Rick led the way to the first location with Loy right behind him. They spent minutes going over the area, but the side street didn't turn up anything unusual. The second vantage point was more of an alley, containing a large dumpster and a bunch of trash cans. A little further in was a large pile of cardboard boxes. One of the boxes was big, like something an appliance might come in. Loy noticed movement and signaled Rick.
Both men immediately went into `SEAL' mode and quietly moved into position close to the boxes with their guns ready. As soon as Rick got a little closer he caught a whiff of whoever was in the box. Someone who hasn't bathed in a long time and drank alcohol wasn't hard to miss, especially with a superior sense of smell. The recent heat wave made the odor worse; a sour mix of sweat and alcohol clung to the area. Even Loy wrinkled his nose at the stench.
Rick put his gun away but was still alert in case whoever occupied the box tried to run. He tapped the big box with his foot and said, "Hey, buddy, come out. We need to talk with you."
There was no answer, just a slight movement followed by snoring. Rick smacked the box hard with the flat of his hand making a loud pop. The guy inside let out a startled scream and shouted, "I.E.D! I.E.D! Take cover!" Frantic movement followed as the man inside scrambled down to one corner.
Loy looked at Rick and said, "Nice move, dickhead."
Rick gave him a `how the fuck should I have known' look. Loy leaned down at the open end of the box.
"Hey man, it's cool. You're safe. What's your name?"
"Who da fuck are you!?"
"I'm Lt. Loy Barton, retired Navy. The dickhead here makin' all the noise is Lt. Rick Crawford, also retired Navy. Can you please come out? We want to talk with you."
The man was clearly a veteran, so Loy used their old rank in hopes of getting him to cooperate.
It took the man a moment to crawl out, and once he did a pile of crumpled newspapers came out with him. The time it took was apparent once he exited the box. He had a prosthetic leg below one knee that was about to fall off.
When he stood up, he teetered, trying to get his balance but waived off any help.
Loy held out his hand in greeting.
"So, what's your name soldier?"
The man looked leery but shook Loy's hand, and Rick's.
"Specialist Taggart Keenan, Army; 197th Infantry. Tag for short."
Tag looked horrible. He was African-American and dark-skinned, but his complexion was gray and chalky. His eyes were bloodshot, his teeth yellow, his breath ungodly, and his body odor even worse. It was hard to tell how old he was in his current condition, but they guessed maybe early to mid-fifties. It looked like he had a rough life aside from whatever he went through during his time in the military.
"Tag, were you here a few nights ago?"
"Why? Is I in some kinda trouble?"
"No, not at all. You see, a buddy of ours, another Navy guy, went missing two nights ago. We think someone jumped him right over there," Loy pointed half a block down to the street corner.
"If you were here did you see or hear anything strange that night?"
"Maybe."
Based on Tag's response Rick let out an impatient sigh, knowing where the conversation was headed.
Before Rick exploded, Loy quickly followed up.
"Look, Tag. This is important, and you'll be doing us a huge favor if you can give us any information. I'm not giving you money because I know what you'll do with it. I'll be happy to buy you something to eat in exchange for your help. Are you hungry?"
Tag nodded his head.
"There's a McDonald's a few blocks down. Does that sound okay?"
Tag nodded again.
"Gimme a sec."
Tag leaned over, fiddling with the harness that held on the prosthesis. Based on what Loy knew, Tag's artificial leg was a very old design and archaic by current standards. It was loose, which is why he was having trouble standing up. He probably lost so much weight after his original fitting that it no longer gripped adequately. His hands shook so hard he couldn't tighten the strap.
Without making a big deal about it so as not to embarrass him, Loy squatted down and said, "Here, Tag, let me do it."
Tag stood awkwardly while Loy tightened the harness, making it more stable.
"Good to go, now."
Tag's `thanks' was barely a murmur. He was confused as to who these guys were and what they wanted; some bullshit story about a friend in trouble. But for some reason he didn't understand he trusted both of them, especially Rick, the dickhead who banged on his box! For the first time in months Tag seemed to have some Mental clarity. The fog over his brain seemed to be unraveling, and at their mention of food he realized how hungry he was.
They walked to McDonald's, and Loy let Tag order what he wanted. The shift Manager didn't want Tag in the store and came out from behind the counter when someone complained that a homeless guy had come in. Rick and Loy were as intimidating as possible with the Manager and said they would sit in a corner and not disturb anyone, but they needed to talk with their friend. Loy went full on Mental with the Manager and scared him so bad he came close to peeing in his pants. In hindsight he might have gone a little overboard, but he felt defensive on behalf of Tag in addition to the urgency to find Ken.
While Tag ate, Loy maintained casual conversation, trying to draw at least a part of Tag's story out of him. Loy could tell Rick was impatient but squeezed his leg under the table and gave him a `calm down' look. While they spoke Loy focused on Tag, trying to elicit a feeling of cooperation and contentment.
Once Tag was full and drinking his shake Loy broached the subject of Ken again.
"So, Tag, did you see or hear anything the other night?"
"Mmmm-hmmm."
Slurp.
"I'll be straight wit `ya... I was majorly fucked up that night, but I heard someone right outside my box. I was tryin' ta sleep when I felt cold all of `a sudden. I was scared, so I was bein' quiet. I took a peep out and saw a few guys. They was big, like you two, dressed all in black, and I know they was wearin' night vision gear. Two of 'em had nasty lookin' rifles. They was drivin' a black van and had it backed up right off da street. I thought I was trippin', so I shut up and closed my eyes.
"A few minutes later I heard `em makin' some noise, bitchin' `bout how heavy some dude was. They threw him in the back of the van and took off. Didn't think no more about it 'til you two showed up. Figured it must `a been a dream, or some sucker got what was comin' to him. Now I ain't so sure."
"Thanks, Tag, that's a huge help. You gonna be okay if we take off now?"
"Yeah. Thanks for `da chow."
As they stood up to leave Loy took out one of his business cards and handed it to Tag.
"Look, Tag. I'm not sure if you're in a place right now where you want any help. I have no idea what your story is brother, but if you want some help, and you want to get out of that box, call this number and ask for Rick or me. No pressure, just think it over."
Tag stuffed the card into his pocket with a slight nod he slurped the last of his shake, his eyes downcast in embarrassment.
Rick and Loy left to meet up with Pat and Darren. Darren wanted to check some of the banks in the area to see if their ATM cameras might have caught anything useful. Rick and Loy headed back to the Lab.
When they arrived, Kevin and Bill were back from the office, but Kevin's lead at the agency hadn't panned out.
Brad looked rough but was holding his shit together for Ken's sake. Each of them immediately went to see him when they got back. Their concern for him was as great as it was for Ken. Brad was just as much a part of their lives. All of the men were physically affectionate with one another and they ruffled his hair, squeezed an arm or shoulder, or patted him on the back.
Pat and Darren called on their way back with some news. The banks were cooperative, and two Wells Fargo ATM's grabbed a couple of images. They saw footage of a black van but didn't get the license plate or anything significant, not even the make or model. The timestamp on the footage from the first bank was 0213, which fit the timeline of Ken's abduction according to Tag's statement. So now they knew the when, where, and how of Ken's capture but little else.
Finally, they were making at least some headway, but after the initial information things dried up again. The next few days were frustrating for everyone. Brad needed to stay in the Lab with Dr. Thomas, and the rest of the guys left only when absolutely necessary. Sally subbed out as many of their appointments as possible to another Security Agency to give them time to focus on Ken.
Nearly five days after Ken's abduction, Brad called everyone into the conference room. He looked like death warmed over. Due to the suppression serum, he couldn't take sedatives to help him sleep so he had hardly slept the entire week, and his eyes were bloodshot with dark circles under them. He hadn't shaved, and his blond beard growing in was scraggly and unkempt.
Everyone was quiet, and many eyes were downcast in frustration. All of them, but especially Brad, felt like they were failing Ken.
Brad's voice was flat as he said, "Before I start, I just want to ask one more time if anyone has any new ideas. I appreciate the efforts you've all put in so far. I want you to know that."
No one spoke, and Brad felt Ken slipping further away.
"Doc, you said you would consider stopping the suppression only after we exhausted normal means of investigation. I think it's time, don't you?"
"Bradford, I know the answer to this already, but my conscience tells me I must ask anyway. What you ask is dangerous and could prove fatal. You know Kenneth would not want your death. Are you sure you wish to do this?"
"Pardon the expression doc, but my life isn't worth shit if Ken's not in it. He means everything to me, and I'll gladly give up my life to save his. Please do this, for both of us."
The doctor's face was solemn when he said, "Very well. Follow me. Everyone else stay in the Lab until further notice."
As Brad and the doctor left the room, all the guys stood up.
Kevin called out, "Brad!"
Brad stopped and looked back.
"No one is dying here, you got that? Not you. Not Ken. Do you understand?"
Everyone stood by Kevin, making it evident his words were from all of them. Brad looked at the love and support on their faces along with the fear. His eyes brightened at the emotional intensity of their support, and he managed a nod as he followed the doctor out.
"Disrobe completely and get on the table. I need to see as much of your body as possible in case further bruising or marks appear. That will give us an indication of what condition Kenneth is in physically. I am going to strap you down so you will not be able to hurt yourself if something goes wrong."
The doctor attached a few tubes and ECG leads once Brad was settled. Brad watched the doctor draw a syringe and inject the contents into one of the tubes and watched the flow of liquid move through the tube and into his body.
"How long, doc?"
"Just a few more seconds and you should begin to feel it. Bradford, you must realize at the physical distance you are at right now Kenneth will not feel your presence or have any awareness of you. It is different when you are together and in physical contact."
It started as a slight tickle in the back of his brain. Brad's eyes went wide as Ken's presence was suddenly in him again! He couldn't help the sob of relief that escaped him.
"Doc! It's working!"
Brad felt all the wires and electrodes connected to Ken's body. His Mind felt funny, not foggy but strange. His vision went dark, and he had a moment of panic thinking he was back in the empty void without Ken. But this was different; he felt a blindfold and realized why he couldn't see.
Thank God, Ken, you're alive!
Tears of relief filled Brad's eyes.
"He's blindfolded and strapped down to a table."
Dr. Thomas let out a sigh of relief as well. They had confirmation Ken was still alive which would rekindle the drive to find and rescue him.
Brad blurted out, "Okay, you fucker, quit playin' with my dick and get on with it."
Dr. Thomas observed Brad's body, watching as little red spots appeared where electrodes and catheters were attached to Ken.
He felt flushed, and his body broke out in a light sweat. He heard some fans start up and a soft breeze brushed over his sweaty skin causing a pleasant, soothing sensation. He was also, quite suddenly, horny. Someone else approached the table and grabbed his erection, holding it firmly.
Suddenly Brad's body tensed up and flushed, and he broke out into a sweat. He was immediately hard, and his body contracted as a powerful orgasm hit him. It caught both him and Dr. Thomas by surprise.
Brad realized Dr. Thomas was talking to him, but it was hard to hear him. He was with Ken, inside his lover and himself at the same time, and it was difficult being in both bodies at once.
"Bradford! Listen! Can you hear me?"
"I... I... can hear... you. It's hard to focus. When I'm there, I'm not here... not so much."
"Good. Bradford listen to me carefully. I am not sure how long it will be safe to continue this. If you focus, you should be able to hear through Kenneth's ears as well, not just what he is feeling. The tactile sense is always the strongest, but you should be able to hear and smell everything Kenneth does. Try to focus and see if you can find a clue as to where he is or who he is with."
"Oohhhhh Fuck! Uh, Uh, Uh."
"Sorry, doc that wasn't me!"
Someone grabbed his dick again, and his body contracted as another powerful orgasm hit. The first shot flew over his shoulder, and the rest covered his chest and abs.
"Bradford, I do not like this... Maybe I should stop this before you are injured."
"Doc, no!"
Brad was aware of someone wiping off his body and cleaning him up. He tried to change his perception and as the blackness receded, he saw Bill holding a towel with a concerned look on his face.
"Jeez, doc, what are they doing to him?"
"They are testing him, finding his limits."
The doctor realized what Dr. Cromwell was doing to Ken and why. The level of efficiency of the forced orgasms was ingenious in its own way. An orgasm in the human body is a time when both the sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems are both engaged, and Ken's physiology would be working overtime on multiple levels to recover. Ken's captor could gather vast amounts of neurological and physiological data simultaneously, during that time.
It was a small victory when Dr. Thomas realized the data Dr. Cromwell gathered was invalid because of Ken's connection to Brad. The neurological data originated from their combined nervous systems, and Ken's captor had no way of knowing that.
Renewed energy flooded into Ken's body and Brad felt better too.
"Ken just got a surge of energy from something. I'm not sure how, but he feels better."
Subsequently another orgasm hit, the third in three minutes. Every muscle in Brad's body contracted again. The orgasm was just as powerful as the first, but Brad didn't have the benefit of Ken's enhanced physiology. By the fifth orgasm, Brad was about to pass out and he was dry shooting.
"Bradford, I am not breaking the Link completely, but I need to weaken the connection. You cannot keep this up."
Brad was too weak to argue. He felt Bill cleaning him up again with a warm damp towel. When he finished, Bill put a hand on Brad's shoulder squeezing him firmly, trying to convey his concern and give him strength. Brad knew Bill supported him one hundred percent and would do the same for Kevin if their roles were reversed.
As Dr. Thomas altered the solution Ken's presence lessened but didn't disappear entirely. Ken was still present, but the sensations were different, more like viewing Ken from a distance rather than being in his body.
The orgasms continued for an hour. Brad cried most of the time, not out of the pain he shared but because of what Ken was going through. Brad realized Ken lost consciousness once the orgasms finally stopped.
"Doc, he passed out."
"Thank God! That was barbaric!"
Anger wasn't the only emotion in Dr. Thomas's outburst. The contempt he felt towards those responsible for Ken's torture was also evident.
"Please let me stay connected, doc. I hate what they're doing to him but if I share it at least in part, it makes me feel like I'm supporting him."
Five minutes passed, and Brad felt Ken regain consciousness. One of Ken's first sensations was the smell of sweat and cum on his body. Brad breathed in and relished the scent of his partner.
The orgasms started again, but this time Brad didn't feel any surge of energy or relief. Ken endured nine more orgasms before losing consciousness again.
Brad laid on the bed, grateful for the connection to Ken but in agony over what he was going through. He raged against his helplessness because he couldn't comfort Ken in any way. Ken couldn't feel him and didn't know he was there for him. He had to know that Brad and the others wouldn't stop until they found him! He had to!
Half an hour went by when Brad realized Ken was conscious again.
"Doc, he's awake. Can you amp up the connection for a few minutes? I need to try and get something that will help us."
"I will Bradford, but at the first sign of anything extreme let me know. Remember it takes a short time to reverse the serum if something horrific happens."
The doctor did as Brad asked and his connection to Ken was fully re-established. Brad sank into Ken, closing his eyes and focusing on anything he might sense that could help them figure out where Ken was or who held him. Brad was quickly learning how to shift between his own senses and Ken's.
"I smell pipe tobacco."
It started out fuzzy, but Brad started to tune in on what Ken was hearing. He heard movement as someone moved closer.
"Someone's talking."
"Well my boy, you are exceeding anything I could have imagined. Whoever made you is a genius. I am jealous of his intellect and his vision. I am going to make it my life's work to duplicate and even improve upon what he has done."
"You stupid fucker. Compared to him you're in diapers, suckin' on your mom's hind tit and shittin' out guacamole into your Huggies. You'll never figure this out. Just get it over with."
"We shall see, my boy."
Brad noted the change in Cromwell's tone, and knew Ken pissed his captor off. Brad grinned in his Mind, knowing Ken had a knack for getting under people's skin when he wanted too. Brad knew Ken chose his words intentionally but didn't know his plan. More typing ensued, and Brad picked up on Dr. Cromwell's attitude as he pounded the keyboard. After a slight pause, a Beep followed.
The slight hiss of something hydraulic was audible, and the shackle holding Ken's right wrist raised slightly and then slammed down hard. It hurt a little but not bad.
Brad's body reflected Ken steeling himself for another blow. Brad tapped into Ken's inner resolve to remain silent knowing the doctor would sever the connection if he reacted. He had to hang on for Ken and find out something that would help!
Beep.
Again, the shackle slammed down, this time much harder. Brad started to sweat from the pain and effort of holding back what was happening.
The doctor could see Brad reacting to something and asked, "Bradford what is going on?"
Beep.
Brad felt his wrist splinter, his breath coming in gasps from dealing with the pain.
"Bradford!"
Beep.
Brad felt the bones in his wrist snap, and that time he did yell.
Bill heard Brad's wrist break just as Brad screamed out in pain. His body strained against the straps holding him down, trying to arch up from the pain, mimicking Ken's movements.
Beep.
Brad felt the shackle holding Ken's left wrist rise.
Fuck!
Dr. Thomas plunged the syringe down as soon as he heard Brad's wrist break. The seconds before the serum took effect seemed like an eternity. Brad's other wrist snapped, and he screamed uncontrollably. Everyone heard him and ran to the room with Brad, the doctor, and Bill. Dr. Thomas heard another pop and looked down to see blood on Brad's chest. A broken rib protruded through his skin, mirroring Ken's injury.
Brad's voice was nearly gone from screaming his throat raw, but just as he fell unconscious everyone heard him whisper, "Gotcha, you fucker..."
<><><>
The doctor had not been so scared in hundreds of years. However, it had also been centuries since he cared so much for anyone besides his partner, Albrecht. The young men whose lives he changed were like sons to him. With The Order on the brink of losing the war to their age-old Enemy over mankind, he never realized his path would lead him where he was. He nearly lost two of his children that night, and still might lose one. Brad would live, but the danger he put himself in was far more severe than anyone but him realized. At the same time, though, he could not be prouder. Brad, still Unawakened, exhibited a willingness to hold on through extreme agony, even at the cost of his own life, for another human being he loved.
As gently as he could, Dr. Thomas set the bones in Brad's hands and ribs, wrapping his wounds and doing everything possible to ease Brad's pain and make him comfortable. The doctor would soon have a conversation with Bill and the others, knowing they would be confused and disturbed by everything they saw and what it could mean for them. He did not want their first exposure to another stage of their evolving nature to mar what should be a wondrous part of their lives. He might have to break a Rule and take them on their next step rather than letting them reach it on their own.
Based on his knowledge of what Ken should be able to deal with, even though it was tearing at his Soul to know what Ken would have to endure, he had a close estimate of how much time they had to find Ken before he would most likely be dead.
Brad remained unconscious for nearly five hours, and each minute was one step closer to Ken's death. Brad was drained beyond any measure of safety, and slipped into a coma for a short time before showing some small improvement and then entering a normal sleep. The doctor did everything he could to assist Brad's body without endangering him further.
<><>
Brad was having the strangest dream. He remembered horrible pain and blacking out, and then woke up in a strange place surrounded by darkness. Even though it was dark, he clearly saw himself. Looking down, he wore workout shorts, a sleeveless t-shirt, tennis shoes, and his favorite hoodie Ken gave him as a gift. He felt like he was on the set of a cheap sci-fi movie that didn't have much of a budget.
Brad called out, "Hello!?"
There was no response, not even an echo. The place was deathly silent.
He moved cautiously away from where he started, uncertain of the direction since he had no point of reference. The floor seemed smooth even though he couldn't see it, and after a while he trusted it would stay that way, so he picked up his pace.
What's the worst that can happen besides I fall and bust my ass?
Keeping track of time was difficult. In fact, he had an intuitive sense Time wasn't moving, and there was so little to the place his senses had no bearings. After what seemed an hour, Brad noticed a light in the distance, and slowed down moving forward cautiously.
As he got closer, it looked like a table of some kind with a man strapped down on it. A bright light shone down on the person like a spotlight, and a sudden sense of urgency hit Brad in the pit of his stomach. Something was wrong.
As soon as he got within a few feet of the table, he hit an unseen barrier. As he looked more closely the man on the table was held down by thick metal bands, and was in bad shape; lacerations and burns covered his body, and his arms and legs were bent at odd angles, broken in multiple places. Blood and sweat covered his entire body. The face that slowly turned towards him was bruised and swollen, but as soon as they made eye contact recognition hit Brad like a bolt of lightning.
"KEN! OH FUCK! KEN!"
For a brief second Brad was too stunned to react, and then he started pounding his fists against the barrier, desperate to reach Ken.
Ken looked back, but either didn't see him or didn't recognize him. Brad panicked, desperately slamming his fists against the invisible barrier. Ken's eyes were glazed, but the longer he stared, the more he seemed to focus and finally there seemed to be a glimmer of recognition.
In the Physical Realm, as Brad tore at the barrier separating him from Ken, the chemical barrier surrounding Ken's Mind weakened.
Brad saw Ken's lips move but couldn't hear anything through the barrier. Ken tried to push his broken and tortured body, struggling against the metal bonds. It had to be agonizing, but with his wrist broken and bloody he was able to pull his hand through the shackle.
As Brad continued to throw himself against the wall, punching and kicking it with all his strength, it started to give. It seemed to Brad that as he made progress against the barrier, Ken was able to focus more.
Ken continued to struggle after pulling his hand through the shackle. Veins showed all over his body from the strain, and Brad had no idea how he endured the pain. His face, even through the blood, was beet red. Inch by inch he raised his arm, reaching towards Brad, and everything seemed to move in slow motion.
When Ken's arm pulled free, blood and spit flew from his mouth as he screamed in pain. His teeth were stained with blood, and his nostrils flared with every breath as he fought off the pain. Brad wondered how Ken maintained consciousness with all the damage and torture to his body, and his heart ached at witnessing Ken's suffering.
Brad was now a few inches closer. The progress was slow and excruciating. His hand felt broken from punching at the barrier, but he knew he couldn't stop. He was about to black out from the pain when his fist broke through.
Ken's outstretched arm trembled and strained with the effort to reach Brad, but he couldn't straighten his broken arm. His whole body shook with the effort, but he kept pushing.
Finally, their fingertips touched, and Ken's voice flooded Brad's Mind.
Brad! Oh God, B! Get me outta here! I can't hold on anymore... I... I tried man, but I c...c...can't take this anymore!
Ken broke down and started sobbing.
"Ken! Oh fuck, oh fuck!"
Looking at his best friend, his lover, and what they had done to him, hearing the agony in his voice, set fire to Brad. Terrified for his partner, he didn't know what to do to save him.
In his Dream, Brad took everything he saw into himself, desperately trying to share or at least lessen Ken's suffering in any way he could. Through the connection of their fingertips Brad took all the fire, all the anger and hatred directed at whoever was responsible, into himself.
Then Brad let his love for Ken wash over him and fill him up, stoking his emotions for the man in front of him like a hot fire. Everything grew inside him until what he felt was palpable and he pushed it into Ken, trying to give him hope and strength and love.
Ken was in too much pain to notice the blaze of White in Brad's eyes when their fingertips touched. This time Brad's eyes glowed bright enough to light the area for a brief second.
"You have to hold on Ken! You have to! I can't lose you!"
Brad was sobbing so hard he could hardly talk.
"We know how to find you! You have to hang on! We're coming!"
Brad woke with a start, confused and disoriented. Powerful emotions lingered from a dream, but he couldn't remember what it was about. He was still strapped down to the bed in the Lab, exhausted.
<><>
Dr. Thomas saw Brad move and quickly went to his bedside.
"Bradford? How are you feeling?"
Brad tried to smile, and his reply was barely audible.
"Like shit."
Brad's throat was still raw from the screaming, and the small effort of laughter chafed his throat. He started to cough, sending renewed pain across his broken ribs. The doctor still wasn't able to give him any sedatives or painkillers due to the lingering effects of the suppression serum.
A rare smile appeared on the doctor's face, and he cupped his hand in the curve of Brad's neck and shoulder, gently squeezing. To anyone who knew the doctor, it was a surprisingly overt show of affection.
"You were incredibly brave tonight Bradford. Foolish, but brave beyond words, my boy. I am very proud of you."
"Doc," Brad whispered, "I saw him... I saw the bastard that has Ken."
The End of Chapter Two
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