Human After All

A
TMOBRAKES
chuffed, and the eight-passenger Infiniti Luxaero settled gently onto the padded platform. A large man in the plum and gray livery of House Cygne came from under the entry arch to stand by the coach’s rear door. The door would open automatically, but the niceties must be observed, and so the uniformed man stood by in case the guest needed assistance.

A line appeared in the smooth, sapphire side of the coach to form an oval. The oval swung up and out, and the single passenger stepped through the opening. For a moment, Jaymes Randle stood looking up at the glistening walls and delicate towers of Pallay Cygne before he identified himself. Naturally, he’d already been cleared or the coach wouldn’t have been allowed to land, but the niceties must be observed.

“I’m the Prince,” he said. “You may call me Jaymes.”

“In here.” The hulking footman gestured to the archway, with slightly less courtesy than Jaymes was used to.

Though he was Bioware, Jaymes was a Thoroughbred Class Companion, and he was accustomed to a certain degree of respect. He was aware that Companions lower down on the ladder were sometimes treated like Mestic servants, but he had never experienced it firsthand.

Gentren, the metacorp that owned his contract, was the provider of the most sought after line of erotic Bioware in this third decade of the twenty-third century. For some, the allure of a lover who could snap a spine with a twist of his wrists was the ultimate aphrodisiac, and the wealthy, powerful Hote caste paid very large sums for the company of an Erotic Companion. He moved in the milieu of the extraordinarily wealthy and their procurers of pleasure—people so secure in their assumption of superiority that it gave rise to a form of reverse snobbery. The hallmark of the true power elite was the way they gave their hired company the same respect they would have offered to royalty.

The Prince glanced over his shoulder in a graceful play of neck muscles as he entered the chamber, giving the brusque servant a gentle smile. “My thanks for conducting me securely,” he said. The days of Companion abductions were over, thanks to subkyoo chips and the all-pervasive CoreNet. However, everyone remembered why armed escorts had once been necessary, and the practice had carried over into a kind of honor guard. Though it was a
de rigueur
courtesy, Jaymes saw no harm in thanking the man.

The brawny, stiff-backed Mestic gave the Companion a long, appraising stare. “You’re a pretty one,” he said, his agate-gray eyes impenetrable. “Nice manners as well. I’ll overstep my bounds and tell you that I’m sorry I’m not included in the Lady’s entertainment this evening.”

Jaymes straightened the snowy cuffs of his shirt, fiddling with the light-catching cuff links in small, deft gestures that held the other man’s gaze in a subtle sleight of hand.
I have you now; I could neutralize you while you’re distracted, or I could make you want me as you’ve never wanted anything in your life.
The Companion felt the surge of exhilaration in the power he wielded before a reminder from his limitation programs damped it. Clearing his throat, he watched the soldier in servant’s clothing tense up in awareness of his lapse in vigilance. When the house soldier’s gaze met Jaymes’s again, the T-bred smiled.

“Perhaps I’ll have the pleasure another time,” he said with note-perfect sincerity, letting the guard keep his pride.
There’s no point in making unnecessary enemies
.

The door of the antechamber closed, and Jaymes turned toward the sound of clapping. Assuming an air of polite interest, he watched the young man walk toward him, taking in his presentation and typing him easily. The artfully tousled ginger hair and slanted, vivid turquoise eyes, the char-velvet jacket over tight fauxstrich leather trousers, the jeweled hair clasps, bracelets, and trinkets on chains would have identified the Exotic even without the tattoo in the center of his bare chest. The subkyoo capital letter
X
inked between the smooth pectorals designated a Companion just one tier below Thoroughbred: an Exotic—Zot in popular slang.

“That was very entertaining… as you’d expect from a genuine T-bred. How does the advert go again?” The Zot made a show of concentrating. “Oh yeah, now I remember.” The warm baritone took on the seductive tones of an infocom voice-over. “As close as an I-call and near perfect,” he quoted. “Gentren claims their T-breds don’t have any cosmenhancements, but that’s complete garbo, right? Your eye color can’t be natural. No one really has violet eyes.”

“I do.”

“Really? The Gentren scout that harvested you probably saw those big purple eyes and thought,
oooh, here’s a haughty-looking one. This brat could grow up to be a precious T-bred
.”

Jaymes smoothed the front of his black brocade frock coat and touched a fingertip to the discreet lower-case
t
tattooed at the corner of his left eye. “I’m sorry,” he said with a cordial smile. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you.”

“If you had, you’d remember,” the Zot answered with all a Zot’s cocky charm. “They call me the Fox, and you’re the Prince. I’ve heard of you, of course.”

“I’m flattered.”

“I doubt it, but you can’t help being polite, can you? Not with your programming.”

“I could call you Boho, if that would make you feel more at ease.”

“Ooh, that one really stung, Your Highness. Where did a spotless creature like you hear such disgraceful gutter slang?”

“Please feel free to call me Jaymes when we’re alone,” the T-bred said with exaggerated magnanimity. He had no real reason to dislike the other Companion, but the Zot’s mocking manner was annoying, and in a rare indulgence, Jaymes chose to answer in kind.

“And you can call me Drue,” the Fox said with a sweeping bow. “If you ask nicely, I’ll tell you about the Scenario for this evening.”

Jaymes sighed as he pulled his glossy waist-length tail of hair over his shoulder. This wasn’t right at all. The presence of another Companion on the job should have been cleared by their Gentren liaisons when the contract was made. There were good reasons for the regulation of how many Companions a single client could engage at one time. In the past, there had been incidents of clients contracting two Companions and using collar codes to force them to fight for sport. And there had been other, less savory abuses. There were many safeguards now to prevent any reoccurrence of this type of exploitation, but Jaymes knew everything was negotiable with the right incentive. He wasn’t so much outraged as annoyed. Frankly, he’d been hoping for a straightforward evening of rutting with a bored corporation president, and now things were complicated.

I could really use a break right now.

By keeping a full calendar for nearly two years, he had accrued an impressive amount of Citizenship Capital, but he needed more, a lot more, perhaps four times as much, to buy even half of his contract. Still, it was a start, and because his parents had made the great sacrifice of giving him up so he could have a decent life, he wasn’t going to squander their gift. He was going to work hard, follow the rules, and save his shares until one day he’d have the honor of buying a Citizenship. Pushing away his irritation, he focused on his role.

“Are you conducting this Scenario?” Jaymes asked with just the right balance of deference and doubt.

“Me?” Drue grinned. “You know better than that, Prince. The Lady of this House gave me instructions. Are you ready to follow them?”

Jaymes inclined his head. “How can I please the client?”

“By letting me please you,” Drue replied.

“Then you have the validation sequence,” Jaymes challenged gently.

“I do,” the Exotic said. “It’s right on the tip of my tongue.”

Jaymes suppressed an inelegant roll of his eyes as the other Companion opened his mouth and inserted something before extending his tongue. At the end of Drue’s wet, pink tongue was a small sphere of liquid ruby, glowing like an ember. It encapsulated the silicone gel that held the micro-memebots with the Dedication code and the so-called Collar, a set of chemical keys to trigger Jaymes’s conditioning. The pill was familiar to the T-bred, but the delivery system was a trifle unorthodox. However, this client was vetted, the fee was paid, and he was wasting valuable time, time that belonged to someone else.

Assuming he and the Exotic were being watched, Jaymes stepped confidently forward to embrace Drue and gaze into his eyes. A bold stare as blue-green and deceptively clear as tropical waters dared the T-bred closer. Their lips met and opened, the code was transferred, and Jaymes swallowed.

As the gelatin residue melted on his tongue, Jaymes knew right away that something was more than a little off about this set up. Instead of detailed files of the client’s preferences and a code that triggered the chosen or custom-designed Scenario, Jaymes felt the unmistakable ripple of a compulsion sequence marching through his brain in a spiral domino effect. The T-bred drew breath to protest, but it was already too late. The connections between thought and action had been subsumed and slaved. The drug had completely commandeered his nervous system, interrupting motor control while modifications were implemented. This wasn’t just irregular; it was highly illegal. When this Scenario was over, he intended to report House Cygne for this violation. Until then he could do little more than wait for a command.

Drue licked at Jaymes’s lips, and the little flickering touches lit a fire in Jaymes’s core. He opened his mouth, and the Zot took instant advantage, sliding his tongue against Jaymes’s, around his teeth, and the roof of his mouth. Drue ran his hands down Jaymes’s back to the upper swell of a perfect ass sculpted by a diligent regimen of exercise. Drue grabbed a double handful of the firm cheeks, separating and kneading them. Jaymes felt something tighten behind his pubic bone with a funny little ache that undid him. This definitely was
not
right. He was a professional who never got swept away by passion, but Drue’s voice and touch were like sun-warmed honey poured over his body, and he was slowly drowning in it.

“That’s good,” the Fox murmured. “Just let it take you.”

Jaymes widened his stance a bit, fearful that his knees would give way as the Zot slid slowly down his frame, opening the brocade jacket and hand-stitched shirt on the way down. Jaymes shivered and moaned as the Fox sampled everything he bared to his gaze: sucking the pink nipples, licking at the hard abs, dipping his tongue into the winking navel.

Drue took his time and did a thorough job. He was following instructions, but he couldn’t imagine anything as perfect, or alluring, as the reality of the creamy skin under his hands, the hard, sleek muscles, and the misty eyes as depthless as desire. True, it was intensely annoying to find he was not immune to the legendary appeal of a Thoroughbred, but being who he was, he made the best of it.

Tooth by shiny brass tooth, Jaymes’s vintage zipper came down, revealing that the T-bred wore no undergarment. The rosy head of Jaymes’s shaft appeared next, and Drue’s tongue came out to moisten his lips as he coaxed the zipper down a little farther. Wrapping his fingers around Jaymes’s hard-on, Drue kissed the tip of the handsome cock before rubbing it against his cheeks, nuzzling and licking the suede-skinned length of flesh, nibbling his way down the fat vein to the velvet balls. The Fox left off sucking Jaymes’s sac and lavished the same caress on the head of his cock. As Drue progressively engulfed more of the long shaft, he teased Jaymes’s puckered lower entrance with a spit-slippery fingertip. In small nudges, Drue eased his finger into the wet velvet vise of the T-bred’s passage to the same rhythm as his bobbing head. Relentlessly, the Fox used every trick he knew to give Jaymes the maximum in stimulation, keeping Jaymes’s erotic programming engaged while the mechemical did its work. Rubbing, sucking, and fondling everything within reach, Drue brought the Thoroughbred to the peak of excitement.

Jaymes felt the precursors of a powerful climax ripple through his groin, and then the Exotic inserted a second finger. He was a veteran of countless, varied sexual encounters with Citizens and other Companions, both male and female, but never had he experienced this intense rush of heat and pleasure that held him in a silken grip. The next pass of the Exotic’s tongue and fingers sent Jaymes over the edge, and he fell into his bliss with a wanton abandon he’d had to fake in the past. Whether it was the drug, the Fox’s skill, or the combination of the two, Jaymes felt as though his entire being had climaxed. For a long moment, he was deaf and blind, standing outside time while a storm of bliss rampaged through him, setting him alight and setting a joyous vibration in his very bones. When he opened his eyes, he realized he was clutching fistfuls of Drue’s flame-bright hair.

The Fox smiled slyly as he let Jaymes’s sated length slide from between his full lips. “How do you feel?” he asked as he stood.

Jaymes felt like a stranger in his own skin, trying to learn how to operate the system. “What did you do to me?” he managed to say.

“Besides the stellar sucking off I gave you? According to the Lady, your directives have been subverted by a mechemical.”