Disclaimer: despite the punny title, this story is NOT based on any comic book title, character or property. It is an original piece of fiction and any resemblance to people, places or events is unintentional.
This is a reality similar to our own; a universe of infinitive possibilities, of extraordinary powers and incredible circumstances. The SEX Men is a group of amazing agents who use their abilities against a powerful enemy. This time, the enemy has a new plan...
The SEX Men Vol. 02: The Sext Class (Final Issue!) Issue 10: The Cuck(oo) in June
NEPHILIM
Jethro Renton-Mass sat at the head of the table, but didn't stand as Timmy entered with a young black boy at his side. Cole was seventeen, nearly eighteen, and Jethro could feel his potential the moment he entered. One of Jethro's gifts was to turn a person's gifts against them so he was able to feel the quirks and nuances of an ability, often before they knew the full extent of their powers themselves.
It was how he had so effectively controlled Timmy Kotes, an adept mind controller, for so long.
There was already another person in the room. Tomaz Rozan was an ORB (Office of the Red Bench) agent who fed useful information to Jethro. There was no pretence that that their relationship was anything other than sexually convenient and mutually beneficial professionally.
Some might call him a traitor for sharing secrets, but Tomaz was of the opinion that the world was shaped by good and bad decisions all the time. Did people really think elected governments were an effective tool for running the world? No, it was men like Jethro Renton-Mass behind the scenes that made the world change. The trouble was, people expected a new system to come fully formed; as if the current socio-political system was one that sprung fully formed instead of one that grew like tree... or a cancer.
The world would change, but it wouldn't want to.
It was four months since Tomaz had last reported to Jethro and it had ended abruptly when they had been interrupted by Matt Tempest. Tomaz used to work with Matt so it was important the SEX Man not learn about his link to Jethro; once he was found out, the SEX Men would be wary and ready to move against him. It was obvious Angelo already suspected Tomaz of being a turncoat, but Tomaz had made himself scarce before Matt could see him.
Today was the first time Tomaz would meet Timmy, but Tomaz knew the young man to be Jethro's most trusted lieutenant. Meanwhile, Cole was a fresh faced recruit. Timmy had spent months ingratiating himself and insinuating himself into Cole's life, persuading an objectively good person to join a team that was morally grey at best and downright evil at worst.
Not that anyone really thought of themselves as evil... well, maybe Timmy, but he liked himself that way.
Jethro had yet to meet Cole face to face. After he had agreed to join the team a month ago, Timmy had returned to the Moonscraper. It was a tower in the city of Clyde Daer where Jethro carried out his business as a political advisor and plotted a variety of schemes both natural and super.
"Who's this guy?" Timmy asked tactlessly.
"Timmy, why don't you introduce me," Jethro replied authoritatively.
Timmy knew how to be respectful, and he showed it now. He demurred to his boss.
"Mr Renton-Mass, this is Cole Cairns. Cole, Mr Renton-Mass," Timmy introduced.
"It's good to meet you," Cole said.
Cole offered his hand and Jethro took it, shaking the hand of the timid young man who would be weaponised in a matter of months.
"Cole. Welcome," Jethro said, but not very hospitably. "Timmy, this is Tomaz Rozman."
"I've heard a lot about you," Tomaz said with a grin.
Tomaz leaned back in his chair, relaxed and almost mocking. He knew quite nicely that Timmy knew nothing about him, so Tomaz had an advantage.
"Tomaz is a nu-man, like you two," Jethro offered ambiguously. "That's all either of you need to know for now."
Telling people you had a spy in a top government intelligence organisation would not be very discrete. Jethro could tell Timmy wasn't happy about being kept in the dark. Who was this man? What was his ability? Timmy had, over several years, leaned not to embarrass himself by asking questions that Jethro wouldn't answer.
"Why are we all here?" Timmy asked.
"There's no point in recruiting others to our team if we do not meet as a team," Jethro replied to Timmy. "A year ago, our team consisted of us and Jeffrey. Now, we know Jeffrey works for the enemy and that we need strength in numbers."
It was more than that though. Jethro believed that nu-men were created by the propagation of energy created by Angels and proliferated by adjacent nu-men. Angels, like Jethro or Angelo were a lynchpin for the genomorphic xenofield. Jethro needed a team to further his manipulation of the field and Angelo, despite his falling out with his team, maintained proximity enough to serve the same design. There was literally strength in numbers.
"What do we call ourselves?" Cole asked. "Do... do we have a team name?"
Jethro regarded the young man. Cole was more astute, inquisitive and enquiring than Timmy.
"A very long time ago, the first humans with abilities evolved. Today, we call ourselves Angels and we call you nu-men," Jethro replied. "There are those, like our enemies, who would not consider my ambitions angelic..."
Cole looked uncomfortable but Timmy very subtly touched his hand and the boy seemed quite receptive to the reassurance of his friend. Were they more than friends?
"In this regard, I would call ourselves the Nephilim," Jethro said with a disdainful laugh.
He found the epithet "Angel" ridiculous as it was, but the fear regular humans had of those with abilities had given rise to religious fervour, almost deifying the most powerful enhanced humans.
Jethro was about to say more when his mobile phone trilled. He answered it without apology to the group and spoke very few words. He mostly listened.
"Yes? Indeed? Now why would they want to speak to him after all these years?" Jethro asked. "You will call me when you have more information."
Jethro hung up and looked at Timmy and Cole.
"We'll have to pick this up another time. Cole, it was nice to meet you. Timmy, please return in an hour," Jethro said.
Timmy knew when he was being dismissed and he took Cole with him. Cole wasn't sure what to make of all this. He didn't really understand his place in Jethro's scheme, but he could tell that the man was not someone who would appreciate being challenged, usurped or disappointed.
The door closed to leave Jethro and Tomaz alone.
"He's the kid with sex powers, right?" Tomaz asked. "What good are they going to be?"
"Blackmail, sexual corruption, interrogation, distraction, entertainment..." Jethro listed off just a few uses for recruiting the boy.
"Blackmail sounds good," Tomaz agreed.
Jethro was not in the mood for explaining himself or in Tomaz's irreverence. The phone call he had just taken had consequences that were not immediately obvious. It might be inconsequential, but he needed more information. Luckily, he had an ORB agent at his side.
"Tomaz, what do you know about Witness 1999-99?" Jethro asked.
DECEPTION (IS THE) POINT
"So, that's Mr Renton-Mass," Cole said guardedly.
"Yes. That's the boss," Timmy replied.
Timmy pressed a button for the lift to take them down to his suite. He looked at Cole, watching a worried look on the boy's face. Cole would need to work on his poker face.
"You don't like him, do you?" Timmy asked.
Cole shrugged, but wouldn't meet Timmy's eye.
"Is he always so... dismissive?" Cole searched for the right word.
"...dismissive?" Cole offered.
"...business-like?" Timmy said at the same moment.
Timmy chuckled at their different perspectives on Jethro Renton-Mass.
"You won't always like what he has to say," Timmy admitted and he had an inspiration. "Maybe it's better we got out of there before he..."
"Before he what?" Cole asked.
The lift door binged and opened.
"Nothing. Forget I said anything," Timmy replied evasively and stepped into the lift.
Cole put his arm out to block the door but didn't step inside.
"Tell me," Cole asked desperately.
Cole's insecurity was a wonderful weakness and rather endearing too.
"Sometimes difficult decisions need to be made. Politicians and soldiers know this. So do mercenaries and terrorists," Timmy replied. "It can be hard to tell which one we are sometimes."
"Mr Renton-Mass is a politician? Does that make us soldiers?" Cole asked as he tried to grasp Timmy's point. "Or terrorists?"
"One man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter," Timmy quoted whoever it was that said that. "That's the problem though. That's what Mr Renton-Mass is worried about."
"What? Being seen as a terrorist?" Cole asked.
Cole was aghast. What had he got himself into?
"No, Cole," Timmy said reassuringly.
Timmy offered a very gentle prod with his mind control, calming Cole enough to listen to persuasion. Changing Cole's nature was still a work in progress, but Timmy enjoyed playing mind games the old fashioned way.
"Governments kill people too, you know. They drop bombs, they impair disagreeable democracies, they cover up genocide and blame the victims," Timmy pointed out. "It can be hard to tell the good guys form the bad. So, it can be hard to know if the actions we take are reasonable."
Timmy watched Cole digest this before moving in for the kill.
"That's why I'm glad we left. Because Mr Renton-Mass doesn't think you're up to the challenge. He thinks you'll question everything and he thinks..." Timmy looked embarrassed to have to tell Cole the next part. "He thinks you're abilities will fail the next challenge."
"Someone has to be in charge, I understand that, Timmy. I trust that what I'm asked to do has a purpose," Cole replied. "But, why would Mr Renton-Mass doubt my abilities?"
"He doesn't mean to insult you," Timmy insisted. "It's just that you've only ever used your powers against people you had a vested interest in. Will you still be able to do it when the goal isn't personal?"
Cole thought about this and suddenly understood why a leader might doubt a new recruit. Especially one who was as admittingly naïve as Cole.
"We could test me?" Cole suggested.
A smile pulled at Timmy's lips. As if the idea had never occurred to him.
"Are you sure?" Timmy asked with concern.
"Yea. I'm sure," Cole replied.
"I have an idea," Timmy laughed.
They stayed in the Moonscraper, but took the lift down ten floors.
The lift opened into an open plan office the was manned around the clock. Literally manned too because the two dozen staff were all men.
"I'll make sure they ignore us," Timmy said. "Don't mind me if I chip in a few ideas here and there, but otherwise the show is all yours."
Cole felt daunted by the prospect of using his erogenous powers against all these men. They had done nothing wrong. However, Cole wasn't planning to punish them like they had punished his bullies. They would enjoy his intervention. That's what Cole told himself.
Cole concentrated and could feel the sexual energy of the men in the room. They were mostly guys in their twenties, working in a call centre job in a giant business building. The dress code appeared to be shirts and trousers, but some had on ties too. A few had ID badges on ribbons around their necks, while most abandoned their ID on their desks when they signed in for their shifts.
Cole found the boredom of the young men to be a useful inroad. The young men paid attention to each call, but the attention was detached which left room for Cole to nudge their sexual interests. Cole didn't need to know which guys were gay, straight, bisexual, ace, queer or anything else; the sexual impulses themselves seemed receptive to any intervention by Cole.
Cole made them all hard and he knew they were boning up by the guilty shifts in their seats and the squeezes of their cocks. The men had happy faces as they felt sexual excitement and a low grade pleasure. It wasn't enough to interrupt their work though.
The men continued to take calls even as they casually rubbed their boners.
Pressing on, Cole found himself able to inspire greater pleasure, the kinetic impulse of Cole's mind led to more and more men touching themselves as if by autopilot. Cole's pleasure inducement caused more than a few messy leaks of precum.
Timmy was enjoying it. He could see a pleasant confusion on most faces, as if they were mollified by Cole's intervention. Some were agitated and uncomfortable with blushing faces as if ashamed by the untimely arousal.
Timmy wondered if Cole had any control over the respective reactions to induced arousal.
"Timmy... I think I might be enjoying myself," Cole confessed as he continued his erogenous manipulation.
Timmy pulled the stretchy waistband of Cole's chinos.
"Don't worry, I'll make them not notice us," Timmy promised. "He's cute, isn't he?"
Cole looked in the direction Timmy indicated and saw a cute young man in his twenties. He was wearing tight trousers and a tight shirt that showed off his lean physique. He was too thin to be muscular, but he was fit and very cute.
Cole concentrated on the young man who leapt out of his chair as he felt his balls being massaged. He felt his prostate being gently stimulated and his cock throbbing. It was like a masturbation sleeve was jerking his cock. The young man was on the phone and had to apologise when he let out a moan.
"You're doing great, Cole," Timmy said.
Cole pulled Timmy's hand from his chinos and Timmy worried he was being rejected, that Cole had second thoughts or that his friend felt like he was being manipulated. Perhaps these paranoid scenarios were a sign of Timmy's own insecurities because Cole had different ideas entirely.
Cole stepped in front of Timmy and grinded his ass into Timmy's crotch. Timmy felt himself getting harder as Cole's cheeks frotted against his stiffening cock.
"Timmy, I think I like this," Cole confessed.
Cole liked the way it made him feel -- his powers feeding into the men and their feelings feeding back. But also the power! Cole felt powerful after years of feeling powerless. These men were putty in his hands. He could squeeze their balls to make them feel pain or make them cum prematurely...
Cole concentrated on several men and made them do just that. They ejaculated in their trousers without having touched themselves, leaving a damp stain of shame inside their clothes.
On the rest of them men, Cole concentrated on orgasm augmentation.
Timmy pulled down the front of his trousers and the back of Cole's chinos. Cole registered the feeling of bare, hard flesh against his cheeks; he kept grinding at first, pushing arousal into Timmy too so that his lover leaked precum all over his butt cheeks.
"Can you make them do other things?" Timmy asked. "Can you make them strip?"
Cole looked over his shoulder in surprise. Timmy had mind control and it never occurred to him that sex could be used to control people too. Seemed pretty obvious now that Timmy suggested it. Cole fixed his attention on the cute lad, who had now hung up.
The young man started pulling off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt as if he was stripping for his life. He felt hot and his skin was tingling. The young office worker pulled his shirt up and over his head; then he stumbled as he tugged his shoes and socks off, hopping from foot to foot. Next, the lad pushed his trousers down to his ankles. They were tight, to emphasise his cyclers legs so they were tough to detach with dignity, which only added to the charm of his stripping.
His colleagues had noticed the young man stripping. Some grinned or laughed, but they were all aware of the manipulation that permeated the office. They all felt lulled into a sexually motivated stupor of compliance. Timmy noted the limitation; Cole could control the lad while the tantrickeneis was in full force, but it lacked subtlety. Yet, Timmy had exercised no mind control and no-one was raising the alarm or challenging the odd behaviour.
It was very much like Cole's sexual powers were an anaesthetic that sedated higher reasoning. Indeed Cole was powerful! Unleashed, his powers were magnificent. Unknown to either of them, it was Jethro's influence that had enhanced the abilities. Jethro could control Timmy even though he was an extremely powerful mind controller. Now, Cole was under Jethro's influence too, by massaging Cole's erotic powers and pressing them into a useful shape.
"Make him take his panties off," Timmy breathed into Cole's ear.
Cole felt Timmy's hardness against his ass but he wanted it inside him.
"Fuck me and I'll do anything you want," Cole said.
"I'm going to hold you to that," Timmy replied. "Now, about those underpants?"
"Now, about that fucking me?" Cole grinned.
Timmy wrapped his arms around Cole's chest and pulled him as he threw himself backwards. Timmy sat down on a chair that rested against the wall, moving his hands down to Cole's hips as he did. Timmy steadied Cole, then gently prompted Cole to sit in his lap, with his cock sticking straight up.
Timmy looked up to see the poor lad in his undies slowly lowering them to expose his ass and dick. The lad had a pretty big cock -- seven inches, curved and uncut.
Cole set the lad to jerking himself, openly exposed to the entire office, before he lowered himself onto Timmy's cock. Cole felt Timmy's cock, press between his cheeks. Timmy pulled Cole down onto the spongy head; Cole's hole accepted the phallus, spreading and gradually the head and then the shaft entered his ass.
Cole put his hands on Timmy's thighs, pressing down to lift and then lower himself in a rhythmic gesture. As Cole felt his ass getting fucked, as promised, he looked over his shoulder.
"What else do you want?" Cole asked.
"More naked guys? Make them suck and fuck," Timmy asked. "Make them cum in their trousers."
Cole turned his attention to the men in the office. At least a dozen of them jizzed immediately. Wet spots covered the front of their trousers and most of them grasped their painful. Creamy spunk sifted through the fabric where the heads of their cocks were pressed. Then the emissions flowed into the seat of their trouser or down their trouser legs.
Meanwhile, another dozen stripped; clothes were strewn in all directions.
As Cole bounced up and down on Timmy hard lap, his own dick was jumping and slapping against his thighs and abdomen. It was stiff and slimy, but Cole didn't need to touch it to feel like he was touching it.
Across the office, the stench of sex was filling the room like it a brothel.
The men who had cum prematurely looked embarrassed by the accidents staining their groins. Then they looked around, mesmerised but sedated into inaction, as their colleagues stripped. Some of the naked young men jerked off -- either themselves or a colleague. Others were sucking or being sucked; those on their knees were still jerking themselves as they filled their mouths with cock. Still others were having full-blown anal sex.
Timmy was absolutely enchanted. He wasn't responsible for any of this. Cole's erotic powers had compelled this orgy. So many men having sex, switching partners, causing a stench in the room. Timmy had a real thing for cucks. And cocks. Sure, it had limitations; Cole couldn't tell a guy to jump off a building, but Timmy could never have dreamed Cole was this powerful. If he had known, he'd have planned an orgy for the football team at Grey Manor high School.
"I'm going cum, Cole," Timmy announced.
"Cum inside me," Cole replied.
Timmy's ejaculation was exquisite. His balls unloaded a torrent of spunk that Timmy still wasn't used to when under Cole's influence. Timmy loved the heavy load and breeding Cole with it was just perfect.
Timmy's own orgasm wasn't the only ecstasy going on. Around the room, the naked lads and men were shooting all over the floor, into another man's face or mouth, or inside a colleagues ass hole. Cole held on to the orgasm of the lad he and Timmy had picked out. The young, naked office boy was still jerking away, but his hand was sloppy with the immense discharge of precum.
Cole pulled himself off Timmy's cock and stroked his dick while watching the handsome young man. Only once Cole had cum -- blasting his juice across the office -- did he allow the office boy to cum too. Cole pulled his trousers up and Timmy stood beside him to watch the final, solo display.
Timmy couldn't let Cole have all the fun so Timmy pressed awareness of what he was doing into the young man's head. The office boy looked towards Cole and Timmy as if seeing them for the first time. He registered that he was totally naked at work and wanking, but couldn't stop.
"Agh! Oh no!" the boy cried.
He was totally humiliated but utterly unable to stop jerking off for his audience. His anguish was simply beautiful. As he stroked and throbbed is cock in a public display of onanism, he felt mortified to be so public about such a private activity.
Finally, the lad came and he grunted and cried out in pleasure as he unloaded his seed all over the office floor. The lad seemed socked by the intensity of it all and then embarrassed at his public display. Yet, he still couldn't cover up.
"We should get going," Timmy whispered into Cole's ear.
Timmy offered Cole a kiss on the cheek. It was a subtle, affectionate gesture. All at once, Cole collapsed his influence and realisation dawned on the men in the room. There was a mad scramble for clothes and apologies. One guy slipped on cum that was splashed on the floor and others were trying to get dressed with spunk all over their fingers. Those that had been fucked, stepped awkwardly into their trousers. Those that had sucked, looked for water or gum to take away the taste.
The chaos was balletic and Timmy could have watched the embarrassed carnage all day, but he had to go back to see Jethro.
"Come on," Timmy prompted Cole.
Cole had been fascinated by the way the men had responded not only to his power, but the effect after he'd stopped. Cole had no idea it could feel this way.
"I can see why you like it," Cole said as they stepped back into the lift.
"Like what?" Timmy asked.
"Being powerful," Cole replied. "I can see why you like it."
"Well, you're one of us now," Timmy said happily. "Welcome to the Nephilim."
SOLACE ON THE SOLSTICE
"A year ago, we didn't even know he was still alive," Matt said.
Matt had waited until Jay had gone up to bed. Jeffrey had gone upstairs an hour ago. Michael was quiet in his room and Milo was actually in his own house for a change. Matt's house felt full. Jay slept in Matt's bed most nights, even if their relationship was a little rocky at the moment. Jeffrey and Cyrus were sharing the second bedroom, though Jeffrey also kept a room at the Racetrack and continued to work with Angelo.
It was the summer solstice -- four years since Michael died.
Except he hadn't. Six months ago, Matt and Cyrus discovered their son was alive and that his abilities had resurrected him. Angelo had known and hid the truth from them. Which was why the third bedroom was now Michael's room, and why Matt and Cyrus intended never to talk to Angelo again.
"A year ago, we were mourning him," Cyrus agreed.
Cyrus turned his head to look at his husband (separated) on the sofa beside him.
"I stand outside his room sometimes, just to listen to him sleeping. To make sure he's there and that he's ok," Matt admitted.
Cyrus nodded.
"I spoke to Angelo you know?" Cyrus said.
Matt sat in stony silence, which was something he did when he was mad but didn't want to show it, or if he was thinking carefully about how to respond.
"Two months ago, when Milo went to gather intelligence on Timmy and Cole..." Cyrus said. "I wanted Angelo to explain why he did it. Lied to us, hid Michael... betrayed us."
"I don't want to know this," Matt said finally.
Matt stood up and Cyrus could tell he was angry. Cyrus got up too.
"We might need to talk about this, Matt," Cyrus said softly.
"Today though, Cyrus? Today you want to talk about how that fucking traitor kept Michael from us? The day our son died?" Matt demanded hotly.
Cyrus crossed the distance between them and pulled Matt into an embrace. Matt stood stiffly, still fuming with anger, but he allowed himself to be comforted. He liked being held by Cyrus. After a minute, Matt lifted his arms and his hands rubbed Cyrus' back.
"Cyrus, I..." Matt started to say.
"Please don't," Cyrus interrupted.
"Jay thinks I don't love him," Matt said.
"This isn't fair, Matt," Cyrus replied quietly.
"I know you love Jeffrey, you told me," Matt said in a tone that was almost accusatory.
They had talked about it after another night of infidelity during their search for Michael.
"Please don't ask if I still love you too," Cyrus pleaded. "I want nothing more than to be a family with you and Michael..."
"So let's do that," Matt implored.
"But!" Cyrus insisted.
Matt sulked into silence. This wasn't the conversation either of them intended to have.
"Jeffrey is a good man and I love him, Matt. If you don't want to be with Jay, it shouldn't be because of me," Cyrus said.
"Fuck. I'm in a loop. I keep putting myself here, wanting you to want me back," Matt complained.
Matt pulled away from Cyrus, feeling embarrassed and ashamed; for being unfaithful to Jay and for wanting Cyrus more than Cyrus wanted him.
"Matt, what are you going to do about Jay?" Cyrus tried to offer council.
"I don't fucking know, do I?" Matt replied. "I could probably fuck him, that usually calms me down."
"Not really what I meant," Cyrus said.
They stood together in the dark. The house was quiet for being full of people, but it was the middle of the night now.
"This was the day he died," Matt whispered reminiscently.
The longest day of the year, the day their son died, loomed over them for years. It felt different this time. This time, Michael wasn't dead. He was upstairs and asleep in his bed.
"We got him back," Cyrus said gently. "We're celebrate that, remember."
They had planned a barbeque to celebrate rather than mourn the day they lost Michael.
"It's a year since Max died," Cyrus recalled.
Cyrus carried guilt over Max's death. Max had been a spy and he had died in a rescue mission to save Cyrus; Max had also frustrated Jethro's plans, which the man would have been proud of. Cyrus and Max had known each other and worked together, so Cyrus felt a sense of responsibility to his legacy. After Max's death, Cyrus had reported to his handler, Kash Spendpence, and discovered they had been lovers. It was times like this that Cyrus wondered how many lives would be sacrificed to defeat Jethro Renton Mass.
"He won't be the last, will he?" Matt asserted pragmatically, even if it was a question.
"No," Cyrus agreed. "Goodnight, Matt."
Cyrus surprised Matt by kissing him. Their lips meeting and for a moment Matt felt deep longing. Matt couldn't tell if Cyrus was closing the door on their reunion or leaving it open.
A DATE
When Milo got home from his mission a month ago, he had been debriefed. Which wasn't as much fun as it sounded. Milo had felt disappointed in himself for not preventing Cole's recruitment.
"From what you've told us, it may not be a bad thing," Jeffrey suggested.
"In what way?" Matt was unconvinced.
Jay felt annoyance at Matt's bluntness. Matt had assured Milo that he'd done his best and that the mission had been too little too late, but Jay knew Milo would feel responsible. Milo would feel like he had failed and Matt's tone wasn't helping.
"You don't know Timmy the way I do," Jeffrey said. "He set out to recruit Cole, but Milo seems to think Timmy has genuine feelings for the boy. That's a weakness he didn't have before."
"Timmy has fearsome powers, any weakness creates an opportunity for advantage," Cyrus agreed.
"I'm more interested in what Milo learned about Cole's abilities," Matt asserted.
Milo had taken a look around Timmy and Cole's memories for information. Milo couldn't read minds per se, and human memory is too vast to simply read the whole catalogue of recall. However, Cole had many things he was thinking about and memories that circled his mind obsessively. That was how Milo came to see Timmy's true feelings for Cole. It was also how he came to understand what Cole was capable of.
"Cole's abilities are similar to Max's, right?" Jay asked. "Sex powers?"
"Cole can influence sexual attraction, enhance and induce orgasms and manipulate pleasure," Milo reiterated.
Milo's understanding of Cole's powers was gleaned from what Timmy had told Cole and what Cole learned of his abilities as he explored them.
"So, why would Jethro Renon-Mass be interested in that power set?" Jay asked.
"They could be used in a similar fashion as Steve's emotive powers," Jeffrey replied. "To compel compliance during interrogation by inducing pleasure or pain. Or, to coerce someone into questionable sexual practices and then blackmailing them..."
"What the fuck is wrong with you guys? Who even thinks of this stuff?" Milo interrupted.
"Jethro thinks of this stuff. I worked for him for a year, remember?" Jeffrey said.
"Jethro recruits people who are useful for his plans to create more nu-men or to advance his political agenda," Matt said grimly.
"I've really fucked it, haven't I?" Milo said quietly.
"No-one blames you, Milo," Jay jumped in to say.
The trouble was, Milo had an earworm that niggled away at him and made him think he could have done more or that the others in the team would have had a clever final idea. It was Timmy's parting shot; making Milo aware of his limitations and burden to the SEX Men.
"The second movie is the best, the first movie is the second best and the third movie is the fourth best," Milo explained on a hot June afternoon.
The windows were open to let in a cool breeze, but there was no cool breeze. Just the warm breath of summer.
"What happened to third best?" Michael asked.
"The spinoff movie is the third best," Milo asserted as it were obvious.
Milo had spent five minutes lecturing Michael about the Harvestman movies; a franchise about Preston Pike was bitten by a radioactive Opiliones. Preston was played on screen by Thomas Dutch who, Milo assumed, was contractually obliged to take his shirt off in every movie.
"Milo? Maybe we could watch the movies together sometime?" Micheal said.
Michael knew Milo fancied him and the feeling was mutual. Despite Matt not being enamoured by the prospect, Michael had made clear he intended to ask Milo out sometime; he'd been thinking about it for a month now.
"What are you guys doing?" Cyrus asked.
Cyrus was walking downstairs with Jeffrey behind him. Michael tried not to think about the fact his parents were in sexual relationships (but not with each other). Cyrus was with Jeffrey and Matt was with Jay.
"We're playing hide and seek," Milo replied.
"Where is Jay?" Jeffrey asked.
"I don't think you understand how this game works," Milo said diplomatically.
"How long have you been looking for him?" Cyrus asked.
"Like, twenty minutes? We've been talking about movies," Milo said earnestly.
"Ok, well hurry up and find him," Cyrus said. "I'm going to light the barbeque."
Cyrus patted his son's head as he passed and Jeffrey followed the man outside.
"Come on, let's try to find Jay. I bet he's invisible," Milo said. "He thinks it's funny to play hide and seek invisible, but he's the one who has to stand around naked for ages."
"Damn, he's so lucky," Michael pouted.
They continued to look for a short time until Michael felt something warm and fleshy that he couldn't see, then he recoiled when he touched a dangly bit.
"Oh, fuck!" Michael cried. "I touched his penis!"
"Who hasn't," Milo remarked.
Jay flicked visible and was standing naked, hands over his crotch.
"Did Michael touch your pee pee?" Milo asked.
"It was an accident," Michael protested.
"You'd have found me ages ago if it wasn't for the Harvestman movie critique," Jay complained.
"You like the Harvestman movies," Milo said.
"You were meant to be finding me! You sat down to tell Michael all about the third act of Harvestman: How the Mite Have Fallen," Jay grumbled.
"The speedo scene is integral to the plot!" Milo retorted.
"Finding me is integral to the game of hide and seek," Jay argued back.
"Oh, show us your dick and shut up," Milo replied.
"What has my dick got to do with anything?" Jay protested.
"Jay?" Matt's soft voice came from the doorway.
Jay looked up to see Matt smirking at him.
"If your done playing with my son..." Matt said in a double entendre. "Maybe you could get dressed and help us with the food?"
"Make sure you wash your hands. You've been handling raw meat," Milo joked.
Jay removed his hands to expose his penis and also whack Milo on the head. Jay flicked out of sight, concealing his nudity with invisibility again, and dashed upstairs to get dressed.
"Also, invisibility is banned in the next game! Nudity is still allowed though," Milo shouted.
Michael chuckled and felt quite happy with how things had turned out. He felt like he had friends and family.
"Milo, I was thinking maybe we could go out some time," Michael said.
"As friends?" Milo asked with a shy smile.
"No, not as friends," Michael grinned nervously.
Milo looked crestfallen from his face.
"As enemies?!" Milo squeaked.
Michael cracked up, laughing at Milo's innocent humour. Milo grinned with satisfaction.
"You're really cute," Michael said.
WITNESS 1999-99
Rene Jarvis was as good a name as any for a man who had called himself many things over the years. He was sitting on a chair that was intentionally uncomfortable; his hands were clasped and resting on the table in front of him. His wrists were wrapped in thick leather cuffs and not the kinky kind; they were joined together by a chain that was passed through a thick metal loop set into the surface of the table.
On the other side of the table was an annoying, smug and irritating man. Rene would love to strangle the fucker, but the aforementioned chain made it impossible to lift his hands high enough or far enough to accomplish that goal.
The only satisfaction he had was that the man across the table from him thought Rene was annoying, smug and irritating. This was quite an accomplishment because Rene had hardly spoken since being taken to the interrogation room.
Officially it was an "interview room", but Rene had been interviewed in soundproof rooms with one-way glass before. It was only so long before they broke out the pain potions and bone breakers. They hadn't worked in the past, but the Glasstower gave it a go every now and then. To his right, Rene was confident there would be an observer on the other side of the mirror. He wondered if they'd try the old bad cop/ less-bad cop routine.
Rene had been held in custody for five years just because he wiped a billion dollars' worth of crypto currency out of existence. The destruction of the currency hadn't been the primary aim; Rene's organisation, Salient Green, was more concerned with...
"How many times do I need to ask the question?" the man asked through gritted teeth.
The frustration of the interrogator interrupted Rene's reverie. Rene was unimpressed. The man was a cuck -- a weak and servile man.
He was but as the cuckoo in June, heard, but not regarded.
"I've already given you my answer," Rene replied in a tone of boredom.
Bernard Godfrey probably thought he was being intimidating, bless him.
"Fuck it," Bernard slammed the table with his fists. "That's it, I'm getting the power drill."
Bernard got up, banged the door, waited for it to open and then tried to slam the door that had a soft close pneumatic hinge. The guard who had opened the door pulled it closed with an almost apologetic look at Rene; the lock engaged and Rene sat back in his uncomfortable chair.
Bernard entered the adjacent room, seething at the one-way glass. Rene looked at him -- the prisoner, sorry, witness, could only see his reflection in the mirror but Bernard knew the bastard was looking at him.
"That'll give him something to think about," Bernard said confidently to the observer.
"Yea," Kash replied. "His lunch."
Bernard offered Kash a sneer.
"Interview with Witness 1999-99 terminated at 16:45," Kash said as he shut off the recording equipment.
"We have wasted our time on that man," said Bernard.
Bernard Godfrey was technically Kash's boss at the Glasstower. The Glasstower operated with a black budget and theoretically answered to the Ministry of Defence; it was a cell within the SCION (Security Counter-Intelligence Observation & Neutralization) programme and was a subdivision of the Albion Intelligence Network. The only problem was, Bernard was a bellend.
"I agree," Kash replied.
Bernard looked at the younger man in surprise.
"Say again? For a second, I thought you agreed with me," Bernard sniped.
"Rene has told us multiple times that he'll only speak to one man," Kash answered pragmatically.
"Yea. Well... that one man is dead, remember?" Bernard said callously.
Of course Kash remembered. The man they were talking about had been Kash's lover. Kash had been his handler. But, Max Bind was dead and he wasn't coming back.
"Not that we're going to tell the prisoner that," Bernard added. "But, unless Max had a clone or a twin brother, we're fucked. Right?"
Kash turned his head slowly to look at Bernard.
"Right?" Bernard repeated himself.
Max didn't have a clone or a twin brother, but they didn't actually need Max. They just needed someone who looked like Max. Perhaps a nu-man with shapeshifting abilities and a high security clearance.
Cyrus Tempest-Hyatt, one of the SEX Men; a spy, a shapeshifter and a friend.
"I think I know a guy," Kash replied.
THE END!
THE SEX MEN will return in...
The SEX Men: Secret Agent War
This chapter concludes the second instalment in The SEX Men series. Clearly, I have plans for a third story... and a fourth... and a fifth, sixth and seventh, but I don't want to get ahead of myself. If all goes well, The SEX Men: Secret Agent War will go online next year, but I haven't started work on it. Check out my blog for updates.
My next story will go online in time for Halloween and is inspired by Carrie. Harrie: Humiliation of a Prom King should go online in 3 weeks.