It's 2350 and we're at Lemma Corporation. Jackson Priest, the CEO of Lemma, is meeting with Martin Frost, a lateral hire from a rival corporation. In words that everyone can understand this was a "major poach" for Lemma. Priest and Frost were meeting to discuss the final terms of Frost's contract: one "perk" in particular. We will return to this perk after we discuss the organizational structure of Lemma, for it is important background information.
A visitor to Lemma, by looking at a male employee, could tell immediately where he fit in the corporate structure. The lowest level of workers, mostly but not all young (in their 20s), had complete freedom to dress as they wished with one exception: neckties were forbidden. Of course, these "G-1s", sometimes called, perjoratively, "rainbows," made up the largest section of the employee base. The assumption was that the brightest and hardest working would advance to the next level of organization, unless of course ... well, as noted, we will return to perks.
A "G-1" who received stellar recommendations from superiors, and had passed a set of five examinations, would advance to the next level of organization, a "G-2" or, because of the wardrobe requirements, a so-called "blue." The G-2 level men were required to wear blue shirts and blue trousers, also without a necktie. Approximately 30% of the G-1s would make it to this level. It was a perfectly adequate level, but again, the best and brightest, if they received further plaudits, and passed additional examinations, would make it through to the "white" level, or more correctly, a "G-3." The reader will understand that a "G-3" was required to wear a white shirt, and either black or grey trousers, and again, neckties were forbidden.
All three of the levels were not unlike the civil service system that dominated the US government for hundreds of years. At these levels, salaries increased depending on seniority and of course, on overtime. A "G-3" was as far as most employees got at Lemma. There were, however, two more levels, again with appropriate exams.
At the "G-4" level, these more senior employees were now REQUIRED to wear a necktie. Depending on their section of the corporation, they either were required to wear blue (mostly technical and scientific personnel), or white (financial and administrative). The jump in salary from G-3 to G-4 was substantial: about a 40% increase, but without overtime. G-4 workers did not have a "work day:" rather, they were simply expected to get their work done. They were evaluated every year by the final level of the company, which consisted of only 25 employees. It was at this level that Martin Frost was recruited.
"G-5" level senior employees - the astute reader may have guessed this - wore blue and white striped shirts to symbolize their presumed knowledge of both areas of Lemma's technology. Neckties were required, as were jackets. There were only 25 of them, and their knowledge base was vast. Dr. Frost, for example, had studied biotechnology, computer informatics, and South Asian languages. All of this was pertinent to his hiring, but it was not a subject of the discussions he was having with CEO Priest.
Martin Frost was gay. It was not unusual for senior level personnel to be either gay or bisexual; however, it made employment packages rather interesting. One of Frost's requirements for joining Lemma, was that he would have his choice of men at Lemma, to serve as his submissive partner.
Again, being chosen by a senior level executive was not at all unusual at the corporation. Ten of the G-5s were known to either have a male partner, or to have both a heterosexual partner, and a young man on the side. While it couldn't be said to be expected, it was nothing that surprised anyone. To be a G-1 and to be selected was sought after by most of our young men. The senior executives had lavish lifestyles, and to be a "chosen one" was to be removed from most of the stresses of day to day life. For example, your G-5 controlled your social life, your wardrobe, your daily tasks. They had extensive domestic staff, and the G-1s could expect that basic needs like their laundry, their car repair (most received more expensive, luxurious cars from their "keepers") to be taken care of. This, in turn, left them plenty of time to spend on advancing themselves, perhaps to the point where, one day, they would be a G-4 or a G-5. The "downside" to having a keeper was that outside of work, you were expected to do whatever he demanded. While it DID happen, it was unusual for a G-5 to choose a young man to be the dominant or top in his relationship. The keeper could also sever the relationship with his chosen one whenever he desired. While there WERE cases where the relationship extended for decades (Priest, for example, had been with his partner for nigh on 25 years, albeit with dalliances), many of the executives sought new companionship when the chosen one reached a certain age: usually 35.
And this is what Frost and Priest were discussing in Priest's office: Priest was about to take Frost on a tour of the corporation to see if anyone caught his fancy. While in theory, anyone below a G-5 level was "fair game," there was not a single recorded case of a G-5 choosing anyone but a G-1.
A group of G-1s were discussing the same issue Frost and Priest were discussing , but in different terms. The six men, all of whom knew that Frost would be at Lemma that day and making his choice, had dressed for success, even if, ultimately, they were , in the words of one commentator "ruthlessly heterosexual." The chance to be taken care of for nearly ten years, was very appealing. Sean asked if any of them had seen Frost's picture: "is he hot? Is he a dog?" Peter pulled out a small brochure from the back pocket of the slacks he owned that showed off his ass the best of all of his clothes. "If the picture is accurate, he's got that hot daddy vibe going on." He showed the photo: Frost in a suit, hands on his hips, smiling, even mugging a little for the camera. "More salt than pepper I'd say, but this man works out." Chris, who had a thing for older men took a look. "OH MY GOD HE'S GORGEOUS." Frankie laughed. "You say that about every man with gray hair. Geez, you'd sleep with me if I were gray." "I'd worry about GETTING hair and then worrying about color Frankie" joked Josh. He had a thing for Frankie, and bald men in general. The problem with he and Frankie getting together was that they both preferred to Top. "Well, I don't think any of you should spend time thinking about it" Tim added. Tim was the only one of the six who was already "coupled." "The rumor is that he prefers , in his words 'beef not veal and mutton not lamb'. His last 'boy' was 35 or so. At least that's what Simon tells me." ("Simon" was one of the G-5s, and he had selected Tim a year and a half before. Had there been senior people around who heard Tim refer to his keeper as "Simon," there would have been repercussions: kept men referred to their keepers as "Sir," "Master," or "Boss"). "Good morning gents. May I introduce Dr. Martin Frost" . Priest had a reputation for a very quiet, almost stealthy walk. None of them heard him approach. "It's good to meet you all. " Martin smiled at the group, as he shook each one's hand. "I would ask your names but I will forget them today. I WILL make an effort to know you all in the future." He smiled a very sexy smile, and Frankie nearly melted. "He's hotter than the photo," Frankie was thinking, followed by "please pick me! please pick me! I look older!" As they walked away, Priest turned around. "Tim, it'll be between you and I. I won't tell Simon you referred to him as such." Tim blushed red. "Thank you Dr. Priest. I apologize. It won't happen again." As they walked off, Frankie's voice went high. "GEEZ HE'S SO HOT! OH, I WOULD ROLL OVER FOR HIM. RIGHT NOW."
"How many G-1s are employed here, Jackson?" Martin asked. "I'd have to look at the latest figures, because we just hired a bunch more to cover for the ones doing military service. I'd say... 300, maybe 350." "WOW. That's quite a pool of...." He stopped . There were two G-4 white shirts coming toward them. Martin found the one with salt and pepper sideburns and the blue eyes "compelling" as he told Jackson back at Jackson's office suite. "Bradley, Farley, please meet Dr. Frost. He joins us today." "Nice to meet you Dr." the one who Martin did NOT find compelling held out his hand. "Please let our department know what we can do to make your transition easy." "I second that Sir. I'm Bradley, but everyone calls me Brad. " Martin smiled. "And what do you prefer." Brad smiled. "It depends on who's speaking Sir. If it's a striper" (he blushed because he used the slang term for G-5s), "I like whatever he says. Otherwise, I prefer Brad." "Then I will call you Brad" Martin smiled. "I'm sure I will see you again." Martin had made up his mind. He went along on the tour with Priest just to see as many people as Jackson could introduce to him, but Brad had made his impression: that was his perk.
When they got back to the office, Jackson smiled. "So, Martin, did you see anyone you liked." Martin laughed. "Many. But there was one. One that sticks out in my mind. I know this is unusual, but the G-4 we passed: Brad... could you look up his dossier." Jackson raised an eyebrow "BRAD? Hmmm. I knew the word was you preferred older, but... I though that meant 30ish. " He went to his computer. "Brad... Yes, Bradley Martin. He's been with us for... hmmmm. 22 years. Half his life. Been married, now divorced. Worked in our Paris office for a couple of years." Jackson looked up. "Hey, didn't you work in Paris for a while?" Martin didn't put it together until that question: NOW he remembered. Brad: "the man who got away," as the song goes. It had been about ten years ago. Martin was already a "striper equivalent at his old company. He had gone into a gay bar one night and saw Brad. Before he could talk to him, Brad had left. He had never forgotten that handsome face, those beautiful eyes... Nor could he forget the tight shirt Brad had on that showed off his nipple outline, almosts begging someone to squeeze them. Martin had wanted to. And still did, ten years later. "Was Brad married when he was in Paris, Jackson." "Let me see.... Well, yes. He got to Paris married, and left... divorced. How interesting. I didn't know that about him. He works in our finance group. Good producer. GREAT producer. Don't know why he never tried to get beyond G-4. Maybe the divorce took it out of him. "Or maybe he's trolling gay bars and doesn't want to get caught," Martin thought. "I know we're expected to go for G-1s or maybe G-2s, but Jackson, Brad is the one I want. " Jackson was silent for a minute. "You sure about that? I think he may be a bit difficult to, shall we say, train the way you like." Martin smiled. Jackson's research had been thorough. He DID have a reputation as being very demanding and dominant out of the office, as well as firm and demanding at work. "I'm up for a challenge. He's not already spoken for, is he?" Jackson shook his head. "I think that in his youth, there were stripers who wanted him, but he proved to be WAY too difficult." Martin laced his fingers together. "He hasn't met me."
"Dr. Priest, you wanted to see me?" Brad walked into Jackson's office suite. His tie was loosened, his cuffs were pushed back, and he had a pencil behind his ear. Martin was sitting there. "Dr. Frost, it's good to see you again." "The feeling is mutual Brad." Martin's smile made Brad uneasy. "Dr Priest, Sir, is something wrong?" "No, brad, nothing's wrong. Nothing's wrong at all. I'm sure you've heard that, as part of Dr. Frost's agreeing to join us, he was given his choice of employees as a kept man." "I did hear that Sir. " There was silence for a minute. Then Brad spoke. "WAIT. Are you saying... " He looked at Martin. "YOU CHOSE ME? WELL FUCK THAT." Jackson looked at Martin as if to say "see what I told you?" Martin smiled a small smile and stood up. "I did. And fucking that is in the future. Turn around. I didn't get a good look at your ass." Brad looked helplessly at Jackson. "SIR. Isn't it... isn't it not allowed to choose a G-4?" "No, Brad. A 'striper' as your friend referred to us, can choose anyone he likes. Dr. Frost has chosen you." "I think you should be ready to come home with me tonight Brad. The rest can be arranged later." "But... but...." Brad looked around, but there was no one there except for Jackson and Martin. "Brad, it's a done deal. I suggest you accept it." Martin was silent. Brad saw the situation and simply answered "Yes sir." Then he turned to Martin. "When would you like me to be ready, Sir?" Martin turned to Jackson. "Do you think that you might let Brad have the rest of the day off?" Jackson smiled. Once Martin had taken Brad, the deal was set. "I think that's eminently possible. " "The red porsche. Meet me in front of the building in fifteen minutes Brad." "yes sir," brad answered softly. His dick was growing, albeit slowly. He was getting the dominant vibes from Martin, and he had read the stories too. The night before, he had sucked four cocks in one of the local gay bars. It looked like he'd be sucking ONE in the near future. "Unless I can convince him he made a mistake" Brad thought. He decided to make things as challenging as possible for Martin, not knowing for an instant that Martin was looking forward to EXACTLY that.
TO BE CONTINUED