homosexuality

After receiving a cloned body I immigrated 127 Light Years from Earth to Free Skyes. Unfortunately I had to work and pay for that cloned body and I had very few skills a high tech society could use. So it was either I become an Unskilled Labourer or a Sex Slave. I guess Human Recourses had figured out pretty good. All those years in BDSM chat-rooms and websites were tracked alright, but not by Homeland Security. I was a 24/7 Bonded Sex Slave with a 5 million credit debt to pay off. Worse still I didn’t have any say on how or what I would be doing, I wasn’t a citizen. After taking a Citizenship Test all that changed.



I was moving up the corporate ladder as fast as that guy in the Musical, How to Succeed in Business Without Even Trying. Okay that guy weaseled his way up the ladder and if it were done today he would seduce, lie, and fuck his way to the top. All the same television rewards for intelligence, ah true there are some internal politics, but Uncle Paul is the most intelligent guy I ever met. By the time I got to Sanderd’s Men’s Store the store manager was already waiting for me.



He measured me out, and had a couple suits, extra skirts that would hide a swelling sore bottom and still look fashionable. He even showed me others that were skin tight, but I had how to walk in a skirt down and looked good in them so I bought a couple. Also several new shirts, ties, panties, stockings, and lower heeled shoes. When it came to the bill then the negotiations. Uncle Paul mentioned the Xmas Show and sponsorship. I took notes, insisted on paying them and then called my Manager.



Anthony loved the long list of things I gave him to do. I warned him not to squeeze too hard, but I knew he was working for me. So what might have been a small ten minute introduction will now have a load of goodies and sponsors.



I got back to work wearing a knee length pleated skirt just in time for 9AM coffee break. Charles took great delight in taking me into his private office, bending me over his desk, lifting the skirt, lowering my panties, before he made love to me. I was almost swept away with the moment but managed to grab a couple tissues to hold on to the end of my penis before he made me cum on my new skirt.



“What are you doing,” he growled into my ear.



“Trying not to get my cum on my new skirt,” I told him as I wiped up. “You could just take my skirt off me,” I added.



“No,” he said as he pulled back, but kept his cock in me. I could feel his fingers on my welts. “You heal fast,” he smiled as he started fucking me again. “Right now Dianna is doing her script read,” he recited, “she’ll find out how hard she will be punished live and on camera. It makes her so hot.”



“How can she got excited over all this,” I gasped as I could feel his balls bouncing against me.



“The fact that’s it’s all live,” he explained, “people in their homes seeing it.”



“Heck,” I gasped feeling my inner G-spot get stimulated, “why not just have a live audience?”



“Logistics,” he sighed cumming again. “We don’t have the space.”



“Oh,” I sighed, “I didn’t cum.”



“Tough,” he snapped, “she will want to fuck you soon enough. Now go get cleaned up and get ready for her.



* * *



The small interview studio now became the set for the Colin and Jeff Show. We didn’t have Colin and Jeff there because they had commitments to their old station and sponsors so we used stage-hands dressed as Colin and Jeff. Well the stage-hands got carried away and one wore a tacky gorilla costume from a costume rental store. It was a good laugh, but we had to get to work. Without all the sexual special effects, chorus girls, and splash a reserve G-rated show was easy to do. Just to make things different, I had the switcher operator take over my position and move the entire crew around including having interns run the equipment. I then sat down and played Colin.



“Good evening ladies and gentlemen,” I said formally to the camera. “Here in Central City I have just been to a performance of the mighty Central River System. To those detractors who say, ‘that river don’t do nothin, don’t say nothing, but just keeps rolling along. Are making an unfair criticism, I mean what can you expect from a river?” Okay I was quoting Allen Souses from the Laugh-in Show but it was still a funny joke.



I know in the ultra clean environment makes getting sick impossible but it is best to be prepared. After that I had to go the Mistress Dianna’s dress-room and await her pleasure. I helped her with her lines and motivation when necessary.



Since I was by then a Junior-Executive I was able to move out of the Dressing-room and watch the scene unfold from off-stage. The show was to go live, but I had a nagging feeling behind me. ‘How do people actually know this is a live performance?’ Not even the various news agencies cover the event of Grace Celtic getting her weekly whipping. The ratings we good, but could be better. I silently slipped back to the dressing room and took out my hand held computer.



“Memo,” I said into the machine, “how does the public really know we are shooting a live performance? I know the show is a drama, but, is it possible to shoot before a live audience? Copy memo to Uncle Paul and all department heads please.”



“Confirm,” the computer replied.



“This is crazy,” Coco called back to me. “Do all you Earthmen have conspiracy theories on your mind?”



“Just because you saw it on television, or on the TV News last year doesn’t mean its true.”



“Never thought of that.”



“Why not have a live fixed camera shooting inside the studio 24/7,” Amadeus asked over the line.



“How did you get this memo,” I asked.



“I have to clean Uncle’s office,” he groaned.



“Okay,” I said back to him. “I’ll address a copy of the memo to you Amadeus and you can make your suggestion back.”



“Oh,” he groaned, “I don’t know.”



“Ahh grow some balls kid,” I snapped back. “That is a good idea. Back home on Earth some studio’s have big window’s that open to the street and people walk by and look in. Now start talking to your machine, or, or, I’ll paddle you and Dom you myself every chance I can get. And I don’t like cubby guys but I’ll wallop the fat out of your ass.”



“Yes sir,” he grumbled.



“Hehe,” chuckled Coco, “well at least his cock is bigger than yours. Too bad he doesn’t know how to use it.”



“How do you know,” I asked her.



“Coffee break back when you were off taking Heredshe Language Lessons,” she giggled. “I finally had to rape him. I know he’s not gay, just timid.”



“I see,” I nodded, “okay talk at ya later.” I switched the unit off and clicked it to phone service and called Marcy. “Got a moment for an idea Marcy.”



“Always for your Mister Director,” she laughed back. “I’m looking over my old Imperial Courtesan Uniform, I might just wear it on the show.”



“Interesting,” that made me curious, but I had a different idea. “What would you say to taking on a timid boy for some advanced lessons? Say a short segments we can put together for a longer format, but in a sense you take him as a sub and train him to be a man.”



“Sounds interesting,” she nodded, “who’s the pigeon?”



“Amadeus Paul,” I told her, “the boss’s Nephew, you may remember him the chubby intern/sex-a-terry?”



“Ahh the weaselly timid one,” she said as a wicked smile played across her face. “Dominating him would be fun. I haven’t made a man out of a boy in a very long time. And you want this all on camera?”



“Call it Advanced Sex Education 202.”



“We can start recording tomorrow during Rehearsals,” she concluded.



The next day I was sitting pretty uneasy. Dianna was especially hard on both Charles and myself the previous evening. She was so horny once we were three subway stops away from the Ringo Complex she ordered the two of us to strip naked. She gave us both a dozen swats with Charles’s pants belt and while he held our clothes she had me make love to her right in the subway car while others paid little notice.



*



This was after all the Free Section of the City. Sex, spankings, and everything except defecating happenes in the Subway. Once inside the apartment the sex went in earnest. Again it was their favourite position, my small cock inside Dianna and Charles’s huge cock up my ass. The two of them sucked face while I was used as a living surrogate. Even when Charles tired and pulled out of me while still kissing Dianna he amused himself by spanking my ass into fucking her. Even long hard hand spankings will raise bruises.



The next morning when we got back to work I had to switch into a black pleated skirt to cover my sore ass and match the loud blue sports coat she had me wear. The mini-skirt and thong panties that Dianna picked out for me to wear to work were back in my locker. The pale blue stocking and royal blue sued high heels were not too bad. I walked about the set and looked up at the audience bleachers, it was a good set. We had six cameras including a sky-camera for good overhead shots. It annoyed me that the set was not transportable; the big studio would be great for showing Dianna’s show live. “Well.” Said a voice interrupting my train of thought, “how do we look, “asked Mike as he and Marcy stepped on to the set; both in Imperial Courtesan Outfits. Marcy wore a fairing red and white floor length dress, a uniform jacket with some medals that were probably not decorations because they did not match what Mike was wearing on his jacket.



“Well.” Said a voice interrupting my train of thought, “how do we look, “asked Mike as he and Marcy stepped on to the set; both in Imperial Courtesan Outfits. Marcy wore a fairing red and white floor length dress, a uniform jacket with some medals that were probably not decorations because they did not match what Mike was wearing on his jacket.



“Very nice,” I commented as I looked through a portable camera eye, “the TV will like this. But how can you guys be ready for sex in such outfits?” In a dazzling spin, Marcy’s dress/skirt came off in a flourish revealing high stocking, garter belt, and a glistening shaved pussy. Mike’s pants came off faster than a Chip-n-Dale Dancer showing his calf high boots and no underwear. His cock was glistening and hard.



“You look ready to drop to your knees.” Mike laughed at me.



“But I’m not,” I told him, then to the crew, “okay man your cameras and get to position number one. Where’s the Announcer.”



“Not in,” called a voice from above. It was my Switcher from his position in the studio control room.



“I’m tired of that Prim donna,” called Uncle Paul, “if you can announce our Xmas show you can do this too.”



“Okay,” I sighed, “are our willing volunteer Interns ready?”



“We sure are,” called Wes.



“I don’t know,” whined Amadeus.



“Come out here young man,” Marcy demanded. Amadeus timidly came on stage still dressed as a Sex-a-terry in a conservative grey business suit, skirt, black stocking and two inch heels. She pulled out a couple chairs and ordered him to sit down. I quickly typed on my hand held computer for camera’s to keep taping.



“Are you afraid of women,” she asked him point blank.



“Oh no ma’am,” he stammered, “well,….” he was at a loss of words.



“Do you want to be with a woman?”



“Well yea,” he agreed, “it’s just,” he looked about.



“Don’t look at them look at me,” she told him as she undid her jacket revealing her filmy white blouse and magnificent breast. Well she had him looking at her.



“What do you have to offer me,” she continued.



“I have some cash flow,” he stammered.



“I don’t need cash,” she told him, “what else do you have?”



“Ahh connections.”



“Your Uncle is Uncle Paul, so what, I’ve fucked over half the Media Mogols in Central City. What else can you do?”



“I can, …. clean your office.”



“What about my whole house?”



“That too.”



“Can you cook?”



“Not much, just follow the pre-packaged directions. But I can learn.”



“What else can you do,” he jacket was opened and she split her legs apart.



“Oh, I guess, people like, … spanking me, it happens often enough during breaks.”



“Really,” she smiled sitting up and putting her knees together. “I like spanking young men. Let me see your ass.” Mesmerised by Marcy’s charm Amadeus stood up bent over and pulled up his skirt showing her his bum.



“See,” he said sadly. His bottom was red from a lunch room spanking.



“Not too well,” sighed Marcy, “take off that Heredshe skirt, in fact, take everything off.”



“Everything,” he asked looking about.



“A real man is confident about himself,” she told him. “You should be proud of your body. Now take your clothes off. I want to really see you for the man you are.”



Somehow she had hypnotized him because Amadeus slowly and timidly took off all his clothing before her. Part of me wanted good camera angles. Another part of me was wondering what Uncle Paul was thinking.



“Nice,” she said feeling his sore bottom and stroking the curve of it. “Sparse hair growth,” she commented feeling his balls. “Now lean on the chair and bend over I want to really examine you.” Amadeus complied and she spread his ass cheeks and gave his rectum a good look. Discreetly another camera moved to see what she was looking at. “It seems you’ve been buggered a few times,” she commented. Then stuck a finger into him and tasted it. “This may not be too sanitary, but it just lets me know Mister Jones did not have an orgasm in your butt it was a Free Skyes man or two. Did you enjoy being buggered?”



“No,” said Amadeus.



“No Mistress,” I had to say.



“No Mistress,” he repeated quickly.



Mistress Marcy gave me a dirty look and Master Mike from out of nowhere was behind me with a hard stick of some sort which went through the pleats of my skirt to my ass. I kept my mouth shut. Marcy then turned to Amadeus.



“Go to that spot over there,” she pointed to a fake corner on the set, “you can wait for whatever happens next.” Then to me, “Mister Announcer any more unwanted interruptions and you’ll be next to get the cane.”



“Well this is a nice start,” said Uncle Paul from upstairs, “now can we do a walk-through?”



Well the walk-through went smoothly enough and about half way through our Ex-Announcer Bech Carpenter a noted nightclub singer; showed up to suddenly put on a tantrum that he was the most important there. Marcy of all people recognized him and called him forward in front of all of us. What happened next was astounding, it seemed he is a client of hers. A few quick negotiation and a lot of cane swinging Mister Carpenter stood behind the podium with nothing on from the waist down doing his job to my great relief.



So with all the targets in a row to take care of on Monday I settled into a rather quiet weekend. Dianna took Charles and I shopping on Saturday and that evening supper and a movie. Sunday started easy enough. I put Charles and Dianna through their slave paces and even had them bathe me before I headed off for my date with Fanta Heart.



Unfortunately Dianna did not trust Lieutenant-Commander Fanta Heart not to take advantage of me. I was locked in chastity, heavy steel with a plug up my ass to remind me I had a GPS system on me. My body-guard was a relatively new fellow who got stuck working a Sunday and had to follow me about. Before we left there was a three-way discussion as to whether or not I should give Fanta a bouquet of flowers. It seemed somewhere Dianna saw a commercial about flowers and dating Ancients and she felt it appropriate. Charles and I countered since flowers were more for a relationship. So the matter dropped.



Surprisingly there was plenty of activity at the spaceport. I guess the fleet was in and everybody wanted out of the place as we tried to get into the complex. A courier carrying a bundle of what looked like orchids literally ran into me crushing the flowers and a cloud of pollen dust burst out.



I guess Ancient DNA is not a cracked up as it is suppose to be because my eyes got watery and I sneezed. For a crowded place people moved away from me as if not wanting to get involved. The Courier turned white and ran off into the crowd.



“Hey you left your flowers,” I called after him as I picked the crushed white orchids up. They smelled rather odd to me. “Fuck I cursed,” they made my eyes water. I struggled about and found an empty waist can to toss them into.



“I should call EMS,” my Guard quickly told me as he fumbled for his communicator on his multi-pouched belt.



“Oh forget it,” I told him as I blinked my eyes. “Just a pollen allergy or some sort. Let’s go I don’t want to miss this appointment.”



“Are you sure you are okay sir,” he asked again as I sneezed into my elbow.



“Now this is weird,” I said before another loud sneeze. I didn’t notice it, but people were shying away from us even more. “I think I bumped into somebody who has a cold or something.” I staggered along the walk a few paces and felt cold. “Is it getting cold out here,” I asked my guard.



“Sir please just sit down,” he told me.



“On the ground in this nice suit,” I told him. “Okay maybe we should go to a Medical Clinic.”



“I’m calling EMS they’ll have an ambulance right over.”



“Oh fuck the Ambulance,” I half coughed. Then a coughing fit really came on as I staggered to a park bench. I was about to spit out when a pocket pouch of tissues fell beside me. Well at least the kid found his supply of tissue. I spat a hunk of phlegm into the tissue. There was no blood but it had an odd orange colour to it. “Where is the clinic,” I asked through watery eyes.



Suddenly a guy in a powder blue haz-mat suit repelled down a rope and stuck me with a rod of some sort. It shocked me and knocked me to the ground. My guard tried to pull him off me.



“He’s sixty-two point eight percent Ancient,” my Guard yelled, “and he’s a VIP!”



Somehow I got to my feet and staggered away from the two fighters. I turned and saw a hovercar of some sort float down towards me. In the door hung another guy with a haz-mat suit on point a cannon like thing at me. It was like in the movie The Running Man, and they fired this net thing at Arnold Schwarzenegger tying him up. Well it wasn’t so nice on me and I was tossed to the ground. Two other guys in haz-mat suits ran forward.



“It’s okay,” one called, “we’re here to help you.” He then gave me a shot with something and it hurt.



*



“Al,” called a voice, “can you hear me?”



“Sure,” I gasped as I came to and suddenly just ached all over. I was floating in a vat of jello and my hands and feet were restrained. I could feel something around my hips but couldn’t see what it was. Breathing and talking was difficult. “What happened?”



Prince Otto’s face floated into my field of vision, “you’ve been a Naughty Boy again,” he told me.



“Oh shit,” I cursed in English, then Heredshe, Free Skyes Common and finally Coalition Common.



“Now that’s not a nice thing to say to your Governor,” he said down to me in Coalition Common. “Did you look at the bundle of flowers?”



“Orchids of some sort,” I coughed. I could hear something that sounded like a respirator. “What happened?”



“Do you know what a Death Orchid is,” he asked.



“Yea,” I said, “it’s that white orchid people put on your chest in the old days when you are dead before they burry you.”



“The Death Orchid comes from Green Gem, a flower that is pure death to most Ancients and Coalition humans. For some reason your Earth Human DNA fought back and kept you alive long enough for us to get you here.”



“Was that courier trying to kill me?”



“You didn’t see the card,” he told me showing me a card. “Dianna, I still rule, give her the flowers.” He shrugged, “Dianna didn’t make the call, it was a set-up they wanted you to kill Fanta Heart.”



“Holy shit,” I curse in Earth English. Then in Coalition Basic, “is Fanta okay?”



“She’s fine,” Prince Otto smiled down on me. “But you getting sick in public is very public, two news camera robots were following you. People are demanding answers, big mouthed idiots are spouting conspiracy theories, we have to present a bad guy to be punished.”

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