This story and its characters are fiction and based on no one outside my head. If any character resembles you or someone you know, I WANT DETAILS, you lucky fucker, preferably with photos! It is, of course, copyrighted by the author with all rights reserved and very, very negotiable. Do not repost without permission Also, keep the cum coming -- Donate to Nifty TODAY at donate.nifty.org/donate.html! I'm an old guy. I know what it was like when you had to BUY porn. Five miles uphill both ways in the snow just to GET to the XXX store. You whippersnapper don't know how good you've got it.
This involves sex between teens and between teens and adult males; if that is illegal for who/where you may be right now, go away! Get thee to a monastery (where you might just find scenes similar to some below). Also, please note that all my stories exist in a world where STDs are neither common nor deadly. Don't be an idiot; use protection. 'To die for' sex should never lead to your actual death.
Feedback from readers is important to me, but if you get off on flaming people, please know that you will HATE the results. I will read your missive and weave you and your comments into the nasty parts of my next story to the point that you cry like a little girl. Bullies get as bullies give.
Raven's Claw 1: First Class
By Bear Pup
"Start at the beginning? First thing I remember? Okay...
"I woke up slowly and hurt a lot. My shoulder was killing me, which was stupid since it was my left shoulder and I'd sprained my right one. I went to stretch it and found I couldn't and slowly peeled my eyes open, or tried. One was glued shut with sleep-gunk. The one that opened made me cringe. Everything was white, like brilliant, painful white. When it adjusted, I started to panic. It was clear that I was in a hospital room and strapped into a gurney or bed or something.
"I heard a voice say it was gonna be okay and to stay calm. He called me 'son'. I spun my head to the voice and almost passed out as a wave of whatever passed over me. I saw a big guy, probably 30, in blue hospital scrubs. He was, um...
"Yeah, I know, as much detail as possible and be completely honest. It's still hard to say. He was a hunk, I mean, sexually attractive? To me? I'm sorry, it's just real hard to say things like that."
Daniel turned to Rob, "I assume that was Howie?" Rob nodded.
"He reached forward and wiped something warm and wet across my face. My lips were real parched which I thought was odd, but he wiped away the sleep and I could open both eyes. I noticed it didn't really smell like a hospital, disinfectant stuff, you know? I could sm-smell him. And it, um, yeah-yeah! I know. Ah, he smelled really good.
"He told me not to talk and that was hurt in 'a crash' and I tried to ask what he meant and he shushed me again.
"What do I remember about, um, before? Well, we'd been at the meet over in Auburndale, way over past Lakeland. We were the last of the schools to leave because The AC, Assistant Coach Sparks, wouldn't shut up about all the shit we'd done wrong. I mean, hell, we came in third as a team and Jackson and Ned both took firsts. Coach Davis was clearly unhappy about that, but didn't say anything even though we kept turning desperate looks in his direction.
"Finally, we piled into the team van all of us hungry, grumpy and exhausted as we left the campus for home in New Tampa. Several of us were already on our phones, calling or texting unhappy parents awaiting our arrival.
"We were barely out of the parking lot when all hell broke loose. Everything went white and the engine roared and we got thrown around hard. There was a lot of water. That's it. I tried to ask him to explain but couldn't say anything really. He seemed to know what I was asking, though.
"He said 'the flash' made Coach David lose control and hit the water and that I'd been hurt, but it was actually a good thing because the water absorbed a lot of the shock wave. That at first everybody thought we'd been attacked by, you know, the Coalition that was pissed off about all the warlike shit and threats from the President but that wasn't it at all.
"The attack came from space. They were RKKVs, you know, just like in Mass Effect? They took out pretty much every country's military in a matter of minutes. Then the Raven's Claw announced that it was there to bring peace and something-something. Whatever. Take over, basically.
"And they did. Everything we knew is gone. There isn't a US or any countries at all. That I've, well, the whole team has been in 'relativistic stasis' for over five years. That you patched us back together. That, that, um, women run things from Homeworld and the brightest and best men are selected each year to have their sperm used as seed for that generation. That, um, that men are never allowed on Homeworld and that women are rarely off it.
"And, um, that men form their own families now. That dirtsiders, guys like us that grew up on planet surfaces, are the most sought-after because we're muscular and that makes us, uh, attractive and valuable, especially if we're into sports and stuff. And we need to be trained as husbands. That we might have all sorts of careers but that only the one-percenters, the best and brightest, will ever have important jobs in the Protectorate because the spacers are so far advanced. And the spacers are almost always the First-Husbands of a family. That. That I'll. That we'll be..."
The boy started to cry at that point. Aaron had reached his limit, and the recording ended. Daniel turned to Rob, the tech. "So how much does he really believe?"
Rob flipped through a bewildering variety of screens. "Dilation and skin reactions show that the parts he doubts are being out of it for years and the phrase 'relativistic stasis'. Not so much as a flicker on the Realistic Kinetic Kill Vehicles or even the arrival of the Raven's Claw. You gotta love video games, boss! He shows real resentment and ambition on the one-percenters things, which is good. We can use that. Overall, not the best of the bunch -- that'd be Aaron's brother Bobby and the AC's kid, Junior. But not far behind. Nothing like as resistant as Paolo or Vinny."
"Hmm." I thought for a minute. "How are the implants healing? How we tested them on all of the subjects?"
"You'll have to ask Wilkin on that one, but I hear they went fine. I know they had to redo four of the nine subprostate ones, so they must have been testing things pretty thoroughly to know. I think I heard only one of the C2-C3 spinal units had to be worked on, and it was an alignment thing; they didn't even have to replace it. Like I said, Wilkins' world for that stuff." Rob sighed.
"Yeah, you can't even see the scars. Fuck, Doctor, Aaron is a beauty, isn't he?" Rob's voice was low and reverent, and filled with animal lust. "God, I hope this works! I can't wait--"
"Well, Rob, afraid you'll have to. I'll make sure to put you near the top for Aaron, though." Rob looked at Daniel like a puppy.
"Really?"
Daniel laughed, "Sure. You've done a hell of a job, Rob, and I'll make sure you get rewarded." He smiled slowly. "Actually... I'll tell you a secret. The Howitzer is restless, " Dan had Rob's undivided attention with that. "And a little birdy tells me that his eyes never leave the ass of a certain Monitoring Psych guy in the mess hall." Rob almost suppressed a little whimper as he adjusted his suddenly-painful crotch. "Good luck."
Daniel, Dr Daniel Vogel, left the instantly-preoccupied tech to his lustful thoughts and went down the hall to Dr Edvard Wilkin's office and confirmed Rob's hearsay. No trace of scarring would be visible to the subjects and all of the implants performed to spec.
Back in his own office, Daniel wrote up his report and updated the project plan, then sent a meeting invite to his primary team. His was a small crew, one of the smallest in the Raven's Claw Primary complex but with insanely-lucrative opportunities.
The sexual-slavery market was booming alongside the insatiable drive for new sexual enhancements for the Average Joe; the implants and methods being tested by the Libido project could be worth billions. The military, of course, provided the seed money and the majority of profits so far with testing being done in the larger Metabolic and Sensory Augmentation projects, and the Induced OCD project showed real promise for several industries, especially banking. But his small lab held what could be the key to Ravensclaw Inc's fortunes.
The irony was that most of the subjects on all the projects were within an hour or two of their former homes and families. In fact, the parental rendezvous Aaron and his teammates had missed three nights before at Freedom High was less than six miles from where the lab sat. Funny old world.
The glowing stripe on the floor turned suddenly, leading Aaron into a massively-long room with a variety of equipment, mostly familiar and low-tech, others of unguessable functions, all against the large windows. All seemed to revolve around testing or exercising the human body.
Aaron had barely made it through the door when he was bowled over by a bundle of tearful energy. Bobby had literally leapt into his arms and was hugging and crying onto his brother shamelessly. In fact, Aaron felt exactly the same way, but he'd never have the guts to put on such a display! There was no one else in the room yet, so he indulged his brother, cooing and calming the younger guy.
Aaron got Bobby detached just as Vinny walked through the door, a serious stutter in his usually-cocky demeanor. He let out a long, shuddering sigh when he saw the brothers and teammates there and Aaron could see him physically shake himself into the tough-guy persona he normally wore.
"Hey guys. Good'ta sees youse made it." No one knew how much of Vinny's Jersey Made-Man accent was real and how much was show. It was clear that some of it was fake, though. Aaron gave him a fist-bump and Bobby came in with a bro-hug. Vinny moved to lean against one of the familiar resistance machines.
Paolo was next. He stopped dead in the doorway, closed his eyes, crossed himself vigorously and began to pray fervently under his breath. He made no pretense of a tough attitude; he didn't need to. He was a ferocious competitor and demanded (and got) respect from everyone on and off the team. Unlike Vinny who rubbed his presumed Italian heritage in everyone's face, Paolo's own (real) Brazilian pedigree was never mentioned. He even went by Paul at school to downplay it.
Ned slipped behind and past the immovable Paolo and went straight for Bobby. They shared a long, intense bro-hug and it was clear both were crying. "Yo! Break up the fag-fest, guys!" Vinny could always be counted on to ruin anything involving respect and emotion. Aaron wondered if he hadn't gotten the memo; everyone was 'faggy' now in this brave new world.
Ned just glared at the Italian bully and came over and gave Aaron a bro-hug as well, then glanced at Paolo. All of the guys knew not to bother talking to him while he was praying. He'd never hear you. Ned and Bobby had been friends for years, and Bobby was the one who talked Ned into trying out for JV Wrestling the year before. Turned out, he was a natural with an uncanny sense of balance and leverage. In just over a year, he'd become a young star for the Freedom High Patriots. He and Bobby ended up on a weight bench, but sat enough apart to prove that Vinny's taunt had struck a nerve.
Jackson was next, and he had to physically shift Paolo further into the room to get past. Paul never noticed or paused his prayers. Jackson was massive, the only Patriot in the Heavyweight class. In the off season, he had flirted with exceeding the High School max weight of 285, all of it muscle, and the coach had nearly killed him for bulking up so heavy. His nearly-hairless chocolate skin also seemed to exaggerate the muscles underneath. He fist-bumped Vinny, then each of the others before settling on a groaning incline bench. That made the team complete.
They all turned when a seventh kid came in. Vinny snarled at him in contempt. Junior was the AC's son. He hated the sport -- any sports -- but the AC was ruthless and forced him to compete in all three seasons. He did cross country in the fall, wrestling now in the winter and baseball in the spring. Junior actually was merely bad at cross, but rarely left the bench in baseball season. He was in the mini-flyweight class for wrestling which maxed out at 106 pounds; Junior would be lucky to weigh in at 95. He didn't suck, per se, but the only time he placed was when there were four or less boys in his class at a meet.
Paul crossed himself and greeted all of us with fist bumps except for Junior who got a bro hug. Paul had made Junior his mission this year, as much to defy the AC as to help the kid specifically. In turn, Junior openly worshipped the Senior. It wasn't uncommon for some of the crueler guys to call him 'Paul's Puppy' -- but only if they were absolutely certain that Paul couldn't hear them.
They were just starting to fidget when six men walked in. Two were eerily tall and stood to the back, impassive and aloof. One ebony-black and the other a ghostly, almost-translucent pale. Daniel stepped forward from the group.
"Gentlemen, welcome to Rehab/Re-Ed Thirty-One. I'm Dr Daniel Vogel. You can call me Daniel. I'm the project lead for your group. Behind us, you'll see our honored guests and patrons, Protectorate Representatives Jo-Pol and Tze-Xun. To my right is Dr Redmond who will keep you medically healthy. To my left are Mr Devlin -- you'll call him Howie -- who will teach you health, fitness and sex, and Carter French who will be instructing you on economics, home skills, sexuality and society."
"You mentioned sex twice, dude," Vinny sneered.
"Actually, Vinny, I didn't. Sex and Sexuality are two very different subjects now. Sex is physical and tends to be tactical and immediate; Sexuality is emotional and mental and tends to be strategic. If you want to find a place in a suitable family you will need some expertise with both and be able to show a First-Husband why you should be chosen."
"And if we don't want to be a fag and join some queer's fake-family? What then, huh?"
Daniel turned fully to face Vinny and his bravado. "You certainly don't have to, Mr Bianchi. You'll likely find it incredibly difficult to make a living without a family, and it is a lonely life. But some choose it. There are some monastic communities -- not religious, of course, religions are gone -- but men devoted to a sexless life who have joined common cause, usually around some craft."
"Fuck that and fuck you! It's all bullshit, guys! I'm straight and I am going to have a family with a real wife, you faggot bastards!"
"Gentlemen, Mr Bianchi will be leaving us for a few minutes." With no warning at all, Vinny dropped like a puppet with cut strings. "He'll be back shortly. Please note that rudeness, incivility and violence will never be tolerated. Argument and debate are welcome, but if you want to hurl insults or refuse to cooperate in your instruction, the minimum that will happen is that you'll be switched off for a few minutes.
"Please be sure that the Protectorate technology can do just about anything, including pain so severe it can lead to insanity or death, though that's never used outside Protectorate Tribunals. Please don't forget that you are being given a rare and precious privilege with this training, one that few planet-dwelling men will ever get. It can be withdrawn in an instant. Ah, I see Mr Bianchi is rejoining us.
"Vinny, I strongly suggest that you remain civil from now on." Vinny slowly got to his feet, shaky and uncertain. "Now, let's continue. Before his unfortunate outburst, Vinny raised a good question about the difference between Sex and Sexuality instruction. There are men of the Protectorate that rate one far more highly than the other, but we'll be instructing you in both. Most often, the Sex aspects are less critical. A strong understand of Sexuality can overcome lack of skills but rarely is the reverse true. Mr French is, therefore, critical to your success."
They all looked to the small, neat man. That little voice in Aaron's head that he tried so hard to strangle whispered, 'Damn. He's sex on a stick!' What seemed strange was that no feature seemed, well, sexy. Something in the way he held himself, how he looked at people, how he smiled or frowned. Taken together, the package was , Aaron thought fearfully, nearly irresistible.
He shook himself. Was it really possible that his deepest secret, the thing he'd spent a lifetime hiding, was no longer a liability, but a real asset? That's if the men were to be believed. Could he afford to make that leap? He snapped himself back as he found Daniel's voice had turned to the man Aaron had first seen on waking.
Howie was a mountain, dwarfing even Jackson's bulk. He was easily six-six and it was impossible to guess a weight. Even with the skin-tights shirt and compression pants -- that, Aaron blushed to note, left nothing at all to the imagination -- there just wasn't a formula to guess the mass of that amount of sheer muscle. The man's voice, when he spoke, sent shivers through Aaron. It was a leonine growl; like the rest of him, his voice was pure male animal.
"I'll concentrate on your bodies in the way that Mr French will help you develop you minds. You are mostly in excellent physical shape for wrestling, but that is no longer your life-path. You need a more well-rounded physique, an utterly healthy lifestyle and a thorough understand of how your body and those of your eventual husbands work at the most-granular level."
The huge man turned to the crazy-tall, aloof men at the back and half bowed. "Patrons, with your permission, may I begin their training?" He got the slightest nod and seemed to relax immediately, as if he was seriously worried about the 'patron's' reaction. The other men filed out of the room behind the Protectorate men and Howie closed the door.
When he turned, he was smiling. As athletes, though, they knew that smile all too well. It was the smile of a coach ready to destroy and rebuild a group of young men, and to do so with relish. He bellowed for the guys to strip (easy enough in the hospital scrubs) and threw each a jock. They didn't realize it at the time, but it was pretty much all they'd wear for the rest of the tenure at Raven's Claw. Over the next four, brutal hours, every one of the guys was pushed to and beyond his limits. Some machines had complex masks or sensors while other were commonplace. Strength, pressure, stamina -- everything was tested.
At the end, they were spaced across the entire open part of the room. They were made to run side-run drills the entire length of the room until they literally puked. When each man finally succumbed, a little robot rushed out and cleaned up the vomit and vanished, leaving behind a bottle of blue-tinged water that soothed, slaked and cooled instantly.
The team sat (actually laid panting) amazed that the last man standing was none other than Junior. He utterly ignored Howie's screams and exhortations, but clearly was pushing himself to his limits. He made two more lengths before his gait faltered and he finally bent over, heaving powerfully. Howie heaped praise on the startled young man leading him over the group once he revived with a proud hand on the boy's shoulder.
"That, gentlemen, is how you hustle. He's the last standing and the only man among you who stayed upright even when he was blowing chunks. Okay - Showers! NOW!"
He double-timed them to the end of the room and through a doorway. There was no locker room (what would go in it?), just a bin for used jocks and a rack with fresh ones hung by size, ready for use. Howie, who they all mentally thought of already as Coach, didn't leave, though. He stripped as well and entered the long shower room with six showerheads to each side.
"Skins to my left, Bares to my right!" We looked at each other. "Come on, you wimps! Those with a foreskin, to the left! Those who have misplaced theirs, to my right!" Blushing, we sorted ourselves. Jackson, Paul and Junior lined up on the left side; the Wagner brothers, Aaron and Bobby, lined up to the right with Ned and Vinny.
Howie walked up to Ned and the boy squawked when the man grabbed his junk and pulled his dick forward. "Hmm. Not really much left below the scar. We'll have to see about that later." He moved to Vinny who jumped away from him.
"Back off, faggot!"
The last word had to be guessed, as he barely the 'f' out before he was on the soft, not-quite-tiles of the shower floor, unconscious. Howie bent down and examined him closely and said to the air, "Make note that Vinny is similar. Not really much there to work with."
Aaron stood frozen, petrified, as he felt Howie handling his junk. Counting backwards and envisioning dead kittens was insufficient, though, as the towering man's thick musk hit him and his dick launched toward erect. "Hmm. Good. Glad to get some cooperation. Okay, even erect there is a good bundle left around the glans. We can work with that." He caressed the shaft a little more until he was sure it was full to Aaron's mortification. "I think probably a six-by-two to start?"
Bobby was already chubbed when Howie got there and the man smiled. "Good, son, just like that. Nothing to be worried or scared about. Yeah, I think the same person probably did you both. Nice fringe left and we can really work with that. Probably a five-by-two on you."
He turned and went back to the middle. "Even those without foreskins, or those who might get one later, pay close attention. You need to know how to keep yourselves and your husbands clean." He moved to Jackson and turned the nearest showerhead on to a trickle.
"First, grab the base of the cock and peel the foreskin as far back as it will go, then gather than skin in your fist. With your free hand, get some water and cleanser -- never, ever use soap! Even if your husband prefers it for everything else -- and wash round and round the back edge of the glans. He'll likely do like Jackson here and get hard, quickly -- it's okay to moan son, you're gonna bite your tongue off if you're not careful -- but keep going over the entire head except for the meatus, that's the piss-slit, until you are damned sure no pre or cheese is left anywhere.
"Now do the same to the exposed inside of the foreskin you've pulled back. Rinse thoroughly at least twice before returning the skin to its normal place." He let go and Jackson sagged back against the tile wall, panting hard. He moved to Junior who was hard as a rock and shaking violently. "Most husbands love it and will already be rock hard like Junior here long before you start. You're a good man, son, keep at it."
He filled his hand with cleanser and a trickle of water and put the other hand on Junior's shoulder, speaking softly and reassuringly. "Just relax, son, you're doing fine. This won't hurt a bit. In fact, it's gonna do everything BUT hurt." Howie reached down and skinned Junior's hard cock and wrapped his huge paw around the violently-pink head. "If your husband is hard and pressed for time, use the daily cleansing as a chance to relieve a little pressure. You'll both be thankful for it later. Breathe, son, breathe. I can't do this if you pass out on me.
"With Jackson, I cleaned around and around. This is equally effective and, for many husbands, a lot more enjoyable. See how I'm holding the head and top inch or so of the shaft with all fingers and palm wrapped around? Good, now just twist around and back quickly, just like this. You're washing what needs to be cleaned, the head and the inner surface of the foreskin. For some, you'll need some up-and-down action as well, but for many like Junior here --- THERE you go, son! Excellent -- He'll blow like Arrival Day fireworks."
Junior was mewling and hunching, shooting easily five or six feet across the shower floor. He was also crying in humiliation and shame at having been brought off in front of everyone, but the rest of us stood (or in Vinny's case, lay) in stunned amazement at the volume and distance the 'nobody' on the team produced.
"Ned, you practice with Paolo. Aaron and Booby, you with each other. I'll work with the newly-revived Vinny. Jackson and Junior, shower up and good job. You have some points to spend for helping out. Junior more than any of you. " He slapped the trembling boy on the back. "Damn good job, son. Damn good."
Ned looked like he was going to puke again as he approached the hyper-masculine Paolo, but the stud just stood stoically and unruffled as the younger teen cleaned his most-intimate parts, eventually pulling back with a smile and a soft, barely audible "Obrigado cabra," 'thanks, dude,' before he got too far down the cum path.
Bobby's eyes reflected the panic in Aarons as they reached for each other, horrified that each could read the desires they'd each hidden as deeply as each knew how. Neither guessed or darted to hope what was actually true, that each brother had always lusted for the other. They were both perfunctory in the extreme, pulling away as if branded by the burning and rampant cock of the other.
In the control room, Rob mumbled, "Well now. How 'bout that," as he scribbled notes that would be vital to Daniel in the coming weeks. That the brothers were desperate for each other's touch and equally terrified of it was useful in the extreme.
He turned his attention to Vinny. Howie had just reached down to the youth's limp dick as Vinny scowled in contempt. "Oh, now, that won't do at all," murmured Rob as he used a short series of keystrokes.
Everyone in the room, even over the thrum of the showers, hear Vinny's shuddering gasp. His dick leapt to incredible hardness in an instant and began to leak precum even as Vinny watched in mounting horror. It took perhaps a third of the time and nowhere near the action it had with Junior before Vinny's orgasm hit and he began to bubble cum down Howie's arm.
"Now," the giant smirked at the mortified and utterly undone Vinny, "that didn't seem so bad for a... straight boy now did it?"
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Active storelines, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay... Canvas Hell: 28 chapters .../camping/canvas-hell/ Beaux Thibodaux: 19 chapters .../adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/ The Heathens: 21 chapters .../historical/the-heathens/ Lake Desolation: 13 chapters .../rural/lake-desolation/ Dear John Letter: 3 chapter .../military/dear-john-letter/ Shark Reef: 6 chapters .../adult-youth/shark-reef/ Culberhouse Rules: 4 chapters .../incest/culberhouse-rules/
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