A
Center client had two options: observed but unassisted masturbation; or, assisted masturbation in which the client’s case
worker would be an active participant in the act. Evan wondered
how
active. The video remained very vague on that point. For either choice, the case worker had to sign a notarized statement swearing that an orgasm occurred and log it in the client’s chart.
The narrator of the film explained that the mental and emotional stability of individuals in positions of
re
sponsibility had become a cause equaling or exceeding the intensity of opposition to gay marriage and abortion in the earlier part of the century. Public outcry after a long series
of convictions of unstable or criminal heads of corporations resulted in the examination of CEO’s personal lives under a
microscope. With a rising tide of CEO’s and other persons in positions
of great responsibility being indicted, caught in some sort of sexual scandal, or attempting suicide,
investors demanded access to their psychological profiles. Once a link had been made between regular sexual activity and mental and physical health, overwhelming pressure was exerted on CEO’s and others with present sexual history public.
I
n order to bring some kind of integrity to the process
,
because this would be all too easy to fake
,
government
-
owned and operated centers were established to keep track of sexual activity. It became clear, relatively quickly, that in order to get
reliable
data, sexual activity would
have to be observed.
In person. So,
Satisfaction Centers were born and regular appointments made mandatory under most conditions. Some kind of committed, or permanent, sexual relationship had to exist before these appointments could be avoided. Celibacy came to be condemned as counter to mental health. Although misguided, because conservatives still rode the horse of “family values
,
” an existing marriage was assumed to supply necessary sexual contact. Evan had been receiving reminder letters and calls for years
...
he had simply blown them off, thinking that as long as his work performance was outstanding, then no one would really care.
After the video, Evan’s case worker, Jackson, came to introduce himself and escort Evan to one of the therapy rooms so that Evan could log a “satisfaction event.” Evan watched him as he walked backward chatting perkily to Evan about how nice the rooms were. Under other circumstances, Evan would have found him attractive
. The man was
young, fit, blonde. And he certainly seemed nice enough,
although Evan couldn’t
understand the
difference between this and prostitution and wanted to ask Jacks
on why he worked at the Center.
“Will you
want
my assistance? Or will I be there strictly as an observer”
“Uh, what are you allowed to do? To give assistance?”
Evan’s face flamed and
Jackson
evidently
noted Evan’s
embarrassment
because he
smiled gently.
“Hands.” And Jackson actually tucked his clipboard under his arm and raised both hands wiggling his fingers. “And, uh, suggestive talk.”
Evan smothered a nervous laugh.
“Okay. I guess, observer only,” Evan got out and Jackson nodded and made a note in the chart.
“
Here we go Mr. James,” Jackson announced perkily, as he opened the door into what looked like a motel room. A queen sized bed dominated the center of the room. Evan noted that the ceiling was mirrored as was the lower half of the wall at the foot of the bed. A huge plasma flat screen hung on the wall
at an angle for easy viewing from the bed
. The lights were seductively dim.
Jackson whipped out a brochure. “Here are the different types
of
pornography
a
vailable, should you need inspiration.”
Evan took the brochure and looked at the bed, which Jackson now turned down, invitingly. “I’ll just step out while you undress, shall, I? When you’re ready, push this green button.” Jackson indicated a button on the side of the bed frame. “There are several types of lubricant in the nightstand drawer there
...
all of course in miniature factory sealed bottles. Take your time getting settled. I’ll be right outside if you have any questions.”
Once again, Evan felt the onset of hilarity. Or maybe it was hysteria. He was supposed to strip, choose a lubricant and call Jackson back in to watch him masturbate. Or to help him. He thought about the escape from pain his job brought him. He thought about how funny Justin would think all of this was. He tried to think it through. He tried telling himself to just take it one minute, or hell, one second at a time and just get through it. He thought about Jackson sitting just outside his peripheral vision watching him in the mirrors. He found himself so repulsed by the entire notion that he felt the beginning
stages of nausea.
He pushed open the door and found that Jackson was indeed, right outside.
“Uh, I’m not going to be able to do this today. Thank you for your time
. D
o I pay at the desk
?
”
“Oh, Mr. James! I’m sorry. Maybe you would prefer a different case worker?”
“No, uh, Jackson, it isn’t you. I just….I can’t.”
“It won’t take long. You won’t even know I’m there.”
“Yeah. I
will
know you’re there. I’m sorry. This is a nice facility and it isn’t your fault.” Evan babbled inanely as he walked toward a clearly marked exit.
“You know this will go in your record as a failed attempt,” Jackson warned ominously.
“
Whatever
, I guess,” Evan said over his shoulder as he fled the building. He tugged at his tie loosening it and prepared himself for the pounding headache he could feel building up at the base of his skull.
Now, he found himself walking, yet again, down a cage lined hallway looking through the one-way glass at perfect physical specimen after perfect physical specimen, all of them empty eyed. At the end of the hall he saw a hand printed paper sign with an arrow on it pointing toward a door. It said “MALE FERAL” He snagged the sleeve of one of the passing white-robed handlers.
“Excuse me for being completely ignorant, but what exactly is a ‘feral’?”
“
Ferals are individuals whose slave nature remained undiscovered until they became adults. Typically, lack of human intelligence and sensibility is revealed due to criminal activity or irresponsible use of credit leading to unpaid debts. This evening we have debtors who have offered themselves for sale to reduce the time the rest of their family must spend confined to a work farm.”
“Thank you.”
Well. If I bought one of these I might be
doing somebody some good.
As he stepped down th
e hallway he caught his breath.
These were still
people
.
T
hey had expressions, most of them hopeless, but some defiant. Their eyes revealed thought processes. He saw an
enormous fat man, accompanied by four burly handlers, being let into one of the display rooms. He got to the inspection window before it was
opaqued
for privacy and felt riveted to the spot.
While all the slaves were fit and in near model quality physical condition, the body of the man behind the window could only fit the description of “perfect” or “superb
.
”
How tall is this guy?
Even seated it appeared obvious to
Evan that the man would stand taller than Evan’s six-two. Evan’s eyes skittered over the perfect skin and the long striated muscle, the impressive genitalia
. His gaze
linger
ed
on the broad shoulders and perfect arms before finally landing on the more than handsome face. A chill gripped his spine. He recognized the young man who was looking at his sudden visitor in absolute horror. It was Jeremy Paxton. He had been one of Evan’s students
in a Senior Economics seminar he had
TA’d
while completing his last year in the MBA program at Stanford. For a while
Jeremy
had been a part of Evan’s friendship circle, coming to Evan and Justin’s dinner parties regularly.
He remembered Jeremy as being extraordinarily bright, funny and always full of energy and enthusiasm. In fact, fleeting thoughts about Jeremy had occasionally run through Evan’s mind.
If
he hadn’t
been so totally besotted with Justin…something might
have happened there, maybe. Even though Jeremy appeared to be straight, there were too many moments of eye contact
,
and eye fucking
,
for Evan to be completely sure. He felt a surge of urgent protectiveness.
From previous auctions he knew that the fat man must be a potential buyer going in to sample Jeremy. The glass wall went black and then he heard a muffled
cry
of pain. Followed by more intense, increasingly desperate screaming, and some gagging. Wincing, Evan backed up against the wall taking out his cell phone. His hands shook so hard he could barely press the speed dial number he wanted for his head of accounting and personal business manager.
“Jeff
…
it’s Evan. I need some information, and I need it fast.”
“Okay. What do you need? Take a breath. Where the hell are
you
?
“I’m
at a slave auction. I need to know a
bout a debtor family named Paxton
. I need to know how much the debt
is, and I need to know how much cash I can lay my hands on.”
“Well, Ev, since you haven’t bought anything except food, and not much of that, for the past four years, and you had a healthy savings plan going on well before then; as long as you don’t want to buy New York City or something we should be able to swing it.” Jeff drawled
. Evan heard him
typ
ing
furiously at his keyboard getting Evan’s information.
“Okay, here it is: it looks like the family business started to fail and the father, Gerald, got overextended trying to save it. After the proceeds for the sale of their home were applied it looks like outstanding debt is around $450,000.00. When you add in the IRS’ twenty per cent bounty and six percent in transfer and property taxes, the total debt comes to $572,400. Of course the auction house will add a ten percent commission, making the total price to completely retire the debt $629,640.00”
“
And I have that much?”
“You wouldn’t even miss that much. Start asking that question when you get up to the tens of millions. You really don’t know what you’re worth?”
“It never mattered. There was never anything I wanted.”
Jeff was silent a minute. “Have you found something now?”
“Maybe. I think so. I’ll
call you back when I know more.
Ev
an stood
waiting nervously in front of Jeremy’s cubical. After what seemed hour
s, but Evan knew had to be only
about twenty minutes
,
the glass slowly cleared and he saw Jeremy sitting up once again, his head hanging. Blood stains smeared the sheets. Angry reds and purples, which were clearly hand and finger marks, marred his shoulders, hips, ankles and wrists.
They must have had to hold him
down
. Evan’s throat clenched up. Without
thinking about what he was doing he tapped on the glass. Jeremy slowly raised his head. His face was tear-streaked and his eyes were red. He looked totally wrecked. Evan suddenly feared that the man who had just hurt Jeremy had gone to buy him. Taking the time to note Jeremy’s product number, he raced down the hallway, his heart pounding. He found the auctioneer and cornered the man.