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  “Why is that?”

  “It is quite dangerous out there.” A large, gleaming white building came into view. “That is where we are going.”

  Emi was still stuck on the dangerous part. “Dangerous?”

  “Extremely.”

  Emi didn’t remember reading anything about that in the files she’d scanned, but she let it go for now. “But how do you expand your lands?”

  “Oh, we expand at a controlled pace. No one wants overcrowding. Just as no one wants to risk their lives needlessly.”

  “Wasn’t the entire planet settled at some point?” Emi knew the main city was huge, as vast as some countries back on Earth.

  “Yes, ages ago. Before the wars. And people needlessly lost their lives then, too. When we finally ended the wars and brought males under control, there were not that many survivors left, unfortunately. We picked up the pieces of our society and decided that the only way to survive would be to band together. And we have thrived since then. It is what has allowed us to become who we are today. We feel no need to change it.”

  They walked up to a large door where two guards stood watch. The women bowed and parted for Mauri. The door slid open. “I hope you enjoy what you see, Doctor,” Mauri said as she stepped through.

  Emi, Baltin, and the four guards followed. As Emi looked around, she wondered if she’d walked into a fantasy or a nightmare.

  Chapter Eleven

  They stood in a long main corridor that sloped up ahead of them. On either side, large observatory windows lined the walls.

  Mauri led the way to one window. “This is one of the trainer dorms. The window does not allow them to see out.”

  “One-way glass,” Emi mumbled as she stared and hoped her jaw didn’t hit the floor.

  “Yes, that is the term.” Mauri and Baltin both looked proud, and the wave of emotions hitting Emi backed that up. Inside the room were ten bunks. In the middle of the room was a padded bench-like structure that resembled a sawhorse. On it, naked, lay a Moran male. Even hunkier-looking than the utility males she’d seen working in the gardens, his blond hair was close-cropped.

  Behind him stood an equally hunky dark-haired Moran male. He had hold of the belt around the prone male’s waist and vigorously fucked him in the ass. Both men wore red collars bearing the Imperial Seal, as well as matching belts around their waists.

  And nothing else.

  Emi swallowed hard, feeling as well as hearing the click in her throat.

  Mauri chuckled. “The trainers have allotted free time. The dark-haired one is Naj’Mauri. He is one of my favorites.”

  “Naj’Mauri?”

  “Yes. We name our males giving them part of our name. When they are owned,” Mauri clarified. “Even though they are part of the Imperial Stables, I personally own them.”

  Apparently Naj’Mauri finished. His body went rigid and his eyes dropped closed. Viewing them from the side allowed Emi a closer look at both males’ sides.

  The doctor in her brain briefly checked in, trying to keep from losing too much blood flow from her head to her clit. “Is that the tympanic region? Under their arms?”

  Baltin nodded. “Yes. Females have it as well, although it’s not as prominent as it is in the males. Our scientists suspect it is larger in the males because they are so much more emotional and needing the stimulation than we do.”

  The males switched places. Now privy to the entire process, Emi watched as the blond male stroked his hands along Naj’Mauri’s torso. From the way Naj’Mauri’s back arched and he wiggled his ass at the other male, he appeared to enjoy it.

  “The light-haired one is Gaj’Mauri,” Mauri said. “He is younger, but I allowed them to pair up. They seemed rather fond of each other and I didn’t have the heart to deny it when they asked me.” She smiled as she watched Gaj’Mauri going to town, fucking Naj’Mauri’s brains out. “They are so cute together like this. They are both trainers. They each have their own…novice, I think is the English word equivalent. A helper. Someone in training to become a trainer. Trainers usually use their novices for relief, it is one of their duties. But we allow experienced and trustworthy trainers like this time to play as well.”

  Emi’s emotions wildly fluctuated between turned on and revolted. She tried to rein in her apparently missing objective physician’s mind. She shouldn’t be judgmental. Their society was different than her own.

  But damn, they were hot-looking, well-hung males.

  Now she couldn’t wait to end the tour and get back to her own three men.

  The two males finished up and left the dorm room. Mauri led the way up the corridor, past several more windows which looked into other dorm rooms. Some empty, some with males asleep or lounging in bunks, and one with another pair of trainers shagging each other’s brains out.

  Mauri spoke in Moran to one of the guards, who left in a hurry. Then the group stopped in front of another large window, higher up the corridor. It looked down onto a large room that reminded Emi of a gymnasium.

  In the center of the room lay two rows of padded benches. At least, Emi assumed they were benches, although they looked odd. Approximately thirty males mingled inside the room, all collared and wearing matching belts. Some of the collars had no seals. Those appeared to all be brown. There were no males wearing red, but there were blue, green, yellow, orange, and even one purple.

  Along the outskirts of the room were various pieces of equipment Emi suspected were used for exercise, based on the way some of the males seemed to be using them, reinforcing her gymnasium opinion. There were also pallets on the floor along the walls, and what looked like the Moran version of toilets, sinks, and open showers.

  “The colors signify their training status and stature. The brown ones are males still being broken in for training who have yet to be assigned.”

  The guard returned with another woman, who was dressed in an outfit reminding Emi of a medical technician. She also wore a nametag with a picture of her face on it.

  Mauri spoke to her for a moment in Moran. Then Mauri turned to Emi. “You are in for a treat, Doctor. Those are a batch of fresh males who haven’t been classified yet. They were brought over from the dormitory this morning to begin their formal training and assignment. I had hoped today was the day so you could witness the process.”

  Emi was afraid to ask what that meant, so she simply smiled and said, “Great.”

  The technician walked over to a panel and pressed a button. She spoke to someone, who responded. Then a tone sounded.

  Inside the room, the men looked up. The ones not wearing brown collars all stopped what they were doing and moved to the outside of the room, some standing and watching, some leaning against the wall, and some sitting or lying down on the pallets.

  The ones wearing brown collars milled around in the center of the room, some looking decidedly nervous. Emi counted ten of them.

  Then three men in red collars, accompanied by three men in grey collars, entered the room, Gaj’Mauri and Naj’Mauri among them.

  “That is Wan’Mauri,” Mauri said, pointing to the third male in red, who did look older than the other two. “He is my oldest and favorite male. He was a gift to me from my mother upon my coming of age.” Her proud smile positively beamed. “He is the most experienced trainer currently working. He trains novices from all over the city. He started as a pleasure male, but I was so fond of him, when he aged out of that job I had him transferred to training. Pleasure males trained by him are highly sought after and fetch extremely high prices when sold.”

  A sick feeling developed in Emi’s gut. “Aged out?”

  “Unable to perform his pleasure slave duties. Once males get to a certain age, they are…no longer reliable, I supposed you could say. It is not their fault. Their bodies simply age.” Correctly interpreting Emi’s expression, Mauri laughed. “Oh, Doctor, do not worry. They are transferred into other, more suitable duties when they age. Breeders and pleasure males know they cannot continue to do that all their
lives.”

  “What happens when males get to be too old to work?”

  “We have a care facility. Males often stay with their owners until they die, if they have an owner who is able to properly care for them when they reach that stage. Unowned state males are continually transferred into suitable positions until they are too old to work. Then they go to the care facility to live out their days. They are not animals. We are responsible for their well-being and do not take that role lightly. It is also common for mothers to pass males down to their daughters. Except for breeders, of course.”

  Emi swallowed back a sick feeling. “Of course.”

  “Well, we certainly wouldn’t want a citizen breeding her own sire. That’s why breeders are carefully tracked. It is not uncommon for them to be utilized as breeders for a limited number of offspring, and then they are sterilized and utilized as pleasure males. Except for the ferals, of course.”

  Emi wanted to ask what that phrase meant. But her attention had now fixated on what was going on in the room below them. The males with brown collars were being lined up along one of the benches by the men in grey collars. One by one, they were bent over the bench. Restraints Emi hadn’t noticed before were attached to their wrists and ankles, leaving their asses spread and vulnerable.

  “The restraints are simply a precaution,” Baltin said. “It is rare they’re actually needed. But occasionally a male will panic during this phase. It is for their own safety and the safety of the other males, and the trainers, of course. Males are used to being restrained early in life, and it comforts and calms them.”

  “Sure,” Emi numbly said. She thought she could guess the reason for the second bench. Anyone sitting there would be in the perfect position to…

  Gulp.

  The men in grey, under the watchful eyes of the trainers, worked their way down the line of restrained men, stroking their backs, paying close attention to their tympanic regions. They stroked their legs, their arms, their asses.

  “They relax them first, get them used to their touch,” Baltin said. “Those are the novices, in grey. They are learning to be trainers. They must train extensively and meet unanimous approval of all the trainers before they are promoted to training status. It is quite an honor to be a novice, and even more to be a trainer.”

  “I guess so,” Emi mumbled.

  “This is the initial evaluation process,” Baltin continued. “Any male showing the potential to be a pleasure male is singled out for further evaluation. Those who meet the qualifications of bloodline are extensively evaluated to see if they would be suitable breeders. Otherwise, they are classified by their temperament and aptitude.”

  “What about the others,” Emi asked. “The males just standing around and watching?”

  “They are already in service,” Mauri said. “Our males are allowed recreation and social time every day. It keeps them healthier and happier. We allow them to freely mingle with the newest males because they can help keep them calm and reassure them when they are first brought in for training.”

  The males in the brown collars did look to be on the young end of the scale, although they all appeared to Emi to be in their early twenties by human standards, if she’d read the file information correctly. “How old are the new males?”

  “By our law, they cannot be placed in training until they have reached maturity.” Mauri seemed to be searching for the right term. “Adulthood,” she finally said. “Is that the right term?”

  Emi nodded. “Yes.”

  “When they are young, they are taught skills, how to read and write our language, how to operate machinery, and our laws. They are carefully trained in etiquette and kept physically fit. Fortunately, our males do not reach sexual maturity until they actually mature. Unlike other species, who might be sexually mature before they are physically and mentally mature. If anything, their sexual maturity happens later than many similar races. Some males are not even sexually mature even when they reach the age of adulthood. In that case, they are held back until they do. And even if they have reached sexual maturity, sometimes supervisors will keep young males back a while longer to give them an opportunity to mentally mature and be more receptive to the next stage of their training. It ensures success that way.”

  “Fantastic,” Emi mumbled. Her eyes were glued to the scene before her. Now the novices had sat on the bench in front of the bound males. As Emi suspected, the bound males’ heads were in the laps of the novices. The novices stroked the males’ heads, encouraging them, from what she could see. The bound males opened their mouths and started going down on the novices.

  Emi couldn’t hear what was going on in the room, but it looked like all three trainers were coaching their novices. After a few minutes, the novices moved down the bench to another three males, where the scene was repeated. All three novices sported rigid penises, but apparently hadn’t orgasmed.

  Naj’Mauri walked over to the last bound male and sat in front of him, talking to the three novices. Then he took the male’s head in his hands and drew it into his lap.

  Well, at least he might be able to hold out longer since he just came. She watched as he demonstrated different techniques for holding the male’s head, before he affectionately patted the male on the cheek and stood. His cock jutted out at half-mast, and large.

  Apparently that part of the evaluation ended. All three novices stood. Wan’Mauri seemed to take over, explaining something and pointing, gesturing.

  Emi got the gist.

  It seemed Moran males were self-lubricating, for Wan’Mauri walked down to the first one on the bench and stood behind him. The novices followed, carefully watching and nodding their heads. Then Wan’Mauri put his hands on the male’s ass, spread his cheeks, and fed his cock into him.

  He held still for a moment, still talking.

  Emi, standing there watching with her arms crossed over her chest, surreptitiously pinched herself, hard, to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

  If this is another sim, pull me out right fucking now, Graymard, or I’ll rip your goddamned head off.

  She held her breath, but the scene before her didn’t change.

  She watched the trainer start to fuck the male. As he had with the blow job, he continued to talk, gesture, and demonstrate.

  The novices looked on, nodding.

  Then he pulled out. He hadn’t climaxed, because his cock stood straight out now, even larger than it had been before.

  Then he gently patted the male on his rump before moving on to the next male. The male didn’t appear to be worse for wear, except he was now trying to hump the air.

  One of the novices noticed, too. He tapped the trainer on the shoulder and pointed.

  Wan’Mauri turned to look, smiled, and let out a laugh. He returned to the male and patted him on the rump and motioned for one of the novices to once again sit in front of him.

  This time, the male seemed frantic to get the novice’s cock in his mouth, opening wide and straining to reach him before he’d fully seated himself on the bench.

  Wan’Mauri said something to another novice, who reached beneath the bound male. From the way his arm moved, Emi assumed the bound man was getting a hand job.

  “Unless they are a feral or a trainer,” Mauri said, “males are only allowed to have pleasure if pleasuring another. They are not allowed to climax on their own and are trained from a young age to not pleasure themselves.”

  Emi found herself asking the question before she realized it. “Why?”

  Mauri laughed. “Males can be very selfish if not trained properly. If we allowed them to pleasure themselves at will, they would never learn to work together. They are rewarded for their good behavior. Males who cannot learn this lesson are castrated to prevent them from getting unruly.”

  Emi swallowed hard again. “Castrated?”

  “Oh, it is a last resort, I assure you. Less than one percent of our males, even the ferals, face castration. Sterilization allows them to still feel pleasure
and the urges, but they cannot breed. Many males are sterilized early in their lives, depending on their bloodlines. Sterilized males still make wonderful pleasure males.

  The bound man’s body went rigid before going limp. The novice at his head patted him on the cheek, making him release his cock from his mouth. The trainer motioned for the second novice to come over and hold out his hand in front of the bound male’s head. Then the bound male opened his mouth and licked his cum from the novice’s hand.

  As he did, the trainer stroked his head. From the expression on his face, he guessed he was praising the male.

  Emi looked up when the technician spoke to Mauri.

  Mauri’s eyes lit up. “Doctor, you are in for a special treat. They are preparing to perform a feral breeding.”

  “Oh…boy.” She prayed the Morans weren’t empathic and couldn’t sense sarcasm.

  “Come. This way.”

  Emi took a deep breath. After one last glance into the room, where the second man in line was now being reamed up the ass, Emi followed her host.

  * * * *

  “So all those were Moran males in there?” Emi asked.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “I’ve heard rumors that some men from other species like to get a taste of that.”

  Mauri smiled. “We do have some males from time to time of other species, yes. But they must come accompanied by a female owner. We turn down countless requests by unowned males to utilize our facilities. It would never do to have unowned males running loose on our planet. It is against our laws.”

  The next room on the tour was at the far end of the corridor. Four Moran women stood in one corner. One wore a plain white robe and stood, barefoot, while three others in normal clothes stood talking with her.

  At her feet sat a male wearing a yellow collar. He had no matching belt, and the square badge on his collar didn’t look like the Imperial Seal on the other collars Emi had seen. The Moran woman absently stroked his hair as if he were a pet.