C.U.B.E.

≈ Ch. 18: GORGEOUS IMPERFECTION ≈

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Who’s Who in this chapter

Kareem and Alastair (the ‘imperfect’ technician living on the 4th floor) have been sexually tortured by O’Rourke (Captain of the dreaded Sex Police) because of the outbound message sent by Kareem. Lance pays a visit to Alastair, and on the 4th floor he’ll have an intense encounter with a gorgeous ‘imperfect’ stranger.

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~ Two friends in pain ~

“Wh… What happened?!” – Lance almost screamed, leaping on his feet, when Kareem and Perry entered his home. Lance didn’t know about the harsh sexual torture Kareem had been subjected to, but it was more than clear that something bad happened to him: he was standing on unsteady feet, leaning on Perry, and was wearing Perry’s checkered shirt around his waist and nothing else.

“What happened? Don’t tell me that O’Rourke…” – Lance inquired, barely holding himself for the worry, and Kareem replied with weak voice: “I’m fine, buddy… I’m… fine…”, but he had to grip to Perry to stand up. “O’Rourke knows that a message has been sent out last night” – Kareem warned – “but he doesn’t know about you, he thinks I acted alone. He tied me to the throne and… interrogated me, to force me to reveal the content of the message and the recipient, but I didn’t tell him anything. I’m worried about Alastair, though: O’Rourke must have tortured him, too, until he confessed that an unknown message had bypassed the firewall. Find him, Lance! Don’t worry about me, Perry will help me, I’ll be fine. You go find Alastair, he may need help.”

“Oh my god, Alastair, too…” – Lance whined, picking up his phone; he sent the usual single question mark to Alastair, who replied in a few moments: “3Θ9”. “The hospital??”, Lance wrote back and shook his head when he read the reply: “Yes. But don’t come, I’m in a special section reserved to us of the 4th floor.”

“The fuck I’m not coming!” – Lance exclaimed aloud, fuming, and when Kareem and Perry gave him a questioning glance, he explained: “Alastair is in the hospital, I’m going to check on him. Perry, you’ll take care of Kareem, won’t you?”

Without even waiting for a reply, Lance went out and ran to the elevators to go up to the third floor, where the hospital was located; he stepped out on Theta Avenue and glanced at the graveyard, in front of him, and vivid memories of Officer Dougal McLaughlin’s funeral resurfaced to his mind. He turned around with a sigh and ran to the hospital. The wide sliding doors opened automatically, and he went straight to the front desk.

“I’m here to see Alastair Hewitt” – he said to the male nurse behind the desk, who looked at his tablet and shook his head: “Mr. Hewitt can’t receive visits, I’m sorry.”

“Where is he??” – Lance shouted, grabbing the nurse by his scrubs; the man glanced around, scared, and addressed a doctor passing by: “Dr. Bright, please, tell this man that visitors are not allowed in the freaks’ wing…”

“The… freaks’ wing??” – Lance yelled, barely controlling himself; he turned to the doctor and pointed a menacing finger to him: “Don’t try to stop me! I want to see Alastair Hewitt now!! He’s not a damn freak, he’s a man, and the way you treat him is… inhuman!”

Dr. Bright frowned and said in a restrained tone: “Please, come with me”. When they were far from prying ears, Dr. Bright said seriously: “I’m a doctor, I swore to help and cure anyone in need: do you really think that it makes any difference to me the floor a patient comes from? Though, if you pardon my boldness” – he added with an admired smile – “curing an exceptionally good-looking guy such as you is much more pleasurable for me than dealing with people from the 4th floor. Do you need a… medical check, by chance?”

Lance couldn’t restrain a smile and softened: “I’m sorry, I snapped when I heard the nurse talking about the freaks’ wing… As for the medical check, maybe another time, now I’m worried for my friend.”

“That nurse will get a harsh reprimand for using such a derogatory term to refer to the Reserved Wing. As a matter of fact, the doors of the Reserved Wing are locked only for the patients, as they’re not allowed to step foot on other parts of the Cube except the 4th floor; but nothing forbids people from other floors to come visit the patients. Only… you’re the first to ask so, we were both a bit shocked by your request. This way, please.”

They moved along the hospital hallways, turned many corners and came to a large door protected by a security guard; the guard looked with surprise at Lance, but since he was with a doctor, he opened the door. After a short walk, the doctor entered a room.

“Alastair!” – Lance exclaimed, looking at his friend lying on the bed; he seemed to have been beaten badly and had many dark bruises on his face that made the large purple birthmark on his face look darker. “What did they do to you?! Dr. Bright, how is he?”

The doctor glanced at Alastair, who nodded his consent. “Mr. Hewitt has deep bruising on his face, his torso and his legs, especially the inner thighs. He reported to have been punched in the face and beaten repeatedly with a nightstick. And he also… uhm… suffered for deep anal lacerations and bruises and a severe rectal prolapse.”

“Alastair, my god… what did they do to you…” – Lance whined, sitting on the bed side and taking his friend’s hand. “After beating me, they tied me to the throne, they didn’t use any lubrication… I didn’t confess, so O’Rourke started increasing the dildo speed, faster and faster, until the pain became unbearable… more than unbearable… and I gave up. I’m so sorry, Lance! You and Kareem trusted me and I betrayed you!”

“How can you ever think that, Alastair? Look at you! Look at what they did to you! Tell me you’ll recover…! Dr. Bright, he will recover, won’t he?”

“We’re taking good care of him, I grant you” – the doctor replied with a sincere expression – “There is no permanent damage. He should be able to go back home in two weeks, and back to work in a month.”

“Thanks goodness…” – Lance sighed, and then hissed between his teeth: “Those bastards… Oh! Sorry doctor, I didn’t mean…”

“Bastard is the right word, if you ask me” – Dr. Bright replied, serious – “No man deserves to suffer such vile tortures”. Alastair flashed a weak smile and faintly shook his head: “Thank you, doctor, but after all I’m just…”

Lance uttered a loud “No!”, and silenced Alastair with a sudden kiss on his lips. When he recoiled, Alastair had wet eyes. Lance flashed a warm smile: “Whatever you were going to say after that ‘only’, don’t ever say it. Don’t ever think it. You’re precious, Alastair, you’re better than many people living on the other floors. We all owe you and your friends and colleagues of the 4th floor a whole lot, for making the Cube run smoothly. Now tell me if you need something. Do you need me to take you something to eat, or read, or… whatever? Ask me anything, and I’ll do it, day or night.”

Lance wasn’t thinking to anything special, but his words sounded a bit naughty; Alastair stifled a smile and replied: “Day or night? Your offer is very tempting… but I can barely move right now…!”

“You seem on the right path for a complete recovering!” – Lance smiled, and Alastair giggled: “Jokes apart, can you go to my apartment and take something for me? My laptop, it’s in the living room, on the table. The address is 4Γ3, Gamma Avenue & 3rd. I feel lost without it.”

“Sure I can. I’ll be back soon!”

 

~ The eerie 4th Floor ~

When Lance stepped out of the elevator, on the 4th Floor, he felt again uneasy, like he was being watched. The never-changing twilight that barely illuminated the 4th Floor made it look eerie. Alastair, once, told them that it was true, that the people of the 4th Floor didn’t want to be seen, but couldn’t help but peek at the handsome strangers who occasionally climbed there.

Lance turned to the left, onto 5th Street toward Gamma Avenue, and started walking briskly; but he stopped on his tracks when he heard a squeak behind him, apparently coming from the block 4Δ5. He turned around, but there was no one. Block 4Δ5 had a wide dark recessed entrance, but he couldn’t see anyone there.

Shrugging his shoulders, he started walking again, but the same squeak echoed in the eerie deserted street, and he turned around again. A faint metallic reflection, that lasted no more than a fleeting moment, came from the dark entrance of Block 4Δ5.

“Wait! Don’t go away!” – Lance said aloud, trying to sound as friendly as possible – “I don’t want to hurt you! Please!”. He walked back to Block 4Δ5, and when he got to the ample entrance, it was deserted.

“Please…” – Lance said again in a pleading voice, and then opened wide his eyes seeing a man on a wheelchair slowly coming out from behind a corner. He cautiously moved across the entrance hall, until he stopped in front of Lance, and then stood there, looking at Lance with a tense expression and two ice-blue penetrating eyes.

The man was gorgeous. Very handsome, with sharp masculine facial features, short blond hair, a smooth muscular torso and an extremely sexy stubble on his face. He was shirtless and was wearing only a pair of stretch shorts. The reason why he used a wheelchair was immediately clear when Lance glanced at his legs and realized that there was only one: the right leg was entirely missing. But the left one was as thick as a trunk, and Lance had to restrain himself not to brush his hand on the muscular thigh.

“Oh… hi!” – Lance said, finding his voice – “Thanks for coming out and meet me. I’m…”

“Lance Maynar” – the man interjected – “21 years old, Apartment 1Δ18… or better, just Δ18: I always forget that you don’t use prefixes on the 1st Floor… I saw you and your friend Kareem with Alastair, here at the 4th Floor. It’s unusual for beautiful people to come up here.”

“Beautiful people?” – Lance inquired – “Is that how you call people living downstairs?”

The man nodded yes, and added, shyly: “In your case, ‘striking handsome’ would be more appropriate, though… Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce myself: Bryniar Larssen, 32 years old, Apartment 4Δ5… this one. I’d invite you in for a tea, but you wouldn’t want to stay alone in a room with a freak…”

“Don’t say that word! It’s just… horrible.” – Lance exclaimed – “If you only could see yourself the way I see you…”

“Why? What do you see when you look at me, other than a crippled one-legged man on a wheelchair?”

“I see a man” – Lance replied, and his sincerity clearly exuded from his voice – “A gorgeous man I’d love to know better.”

“Such a sweet lie…” – Bryniar replied, smiling – “You earned your tea, though.”

“I’m running an errand for Alastair, he’s in hospital and I don’t want him to wait too long; would you think I’m too brazen if I turn your morning tea into a dinner? I’m an excellent cook, I can bring everything we need.”

Bryniar smiled wide: “Would you really come for dinner? It’s wonderful! Is 8 PM fine with you? You don’t need to bring anything… except some wine, if you like it. The one they sell here at the 4th Floor is terrible. My goodness, I can’t believe I’m going to dine with you!”

“I’m as thrilled as you are! See you tonight then, at 8 PM!”

Bryniar turned around and moved to the back of the entrance hall at such an amazing speed that Lance wondered if the wheelchair was motorized… but then glanced at the bulging biceps flexing at each spin of the wheels and thought that no electric motor could be more powerful than them. Lance quickly went to Alastair’s home, took the laptop and brought it to the hospital; this time he didn’t have any problem accessing the Reserved Wing, and then spent the entire morning chatting with Alastair, relating him about the outbound message, the old computer and the IPv4 protocol. “Now we can only wait” – he concluded – “and hope that Kareem’s friend can really get the ball rolling and make Triple-A fall from his pedestal…”

 

~ Gorgeous imperfection ~

At 8 PM sharp, Lance was out of Bryniar’s door, holding a bottle of the best wine he could find. The curtain closing the arch opened and Lance shot an admired glance at Bryniar, who was wearing a stretch white shirt generously showing off his chiseled chest, and fashionable jeans with rips and holes that gave enticing glimpses of the muscular thigh bulging under the fabric. The other side of the jeans was neatly folded under the stub of the missing leg. They entered a living room that looked similar to all the others at the Cube; the room was tidy and clean, and everything was perfectly organized on low shelves, to be easily accessible from the wheelchair. Several pots were bubbling on the fire range, and Bryniar swiftly checked them and stirred what seemed an Alfredo sauce.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I’m not used to have visitors” – Bryniar said shyly after a while – “Please take a seat. Dinner is ready in five minutes! Spaghetti Alfredo and Viking Stew, and old recipe from the cold Norse Province my family came from.”

“Wow… I feel pampered!” – Lance exclaimed, pouring the wine. Looking at Bryniar confidently juggling the pots and the dishes while swiftly moving on the wheelchair around the room was amazing. The Spaghetti Alfredo were delicious; while enjoying the dinner, Lance asked: “So, I guess you work here, like the others, right?”

“Yes. I’m an electronic engineer. Or better, I was when I lived outside, now I’m more an electrician, sort of; but I often use my skills here, too. Now, courtesy would require that I ask you the same thing, but I won’t. I already know.”

“You seem to know a lot of things about me…”

“You and many other people. I hope you don’t get offended, but since we deal with the registration of the guests, sometimes we… ehm… look at their photos, read their stats, learn about their jobs. It makes us feel like… we’re friends with those beautiful people. You and your friend Kareem, his co-worker Mateo and a few others are very popular here on the 4th Floor.”

“I hate knowing that you’re forbidden to freely go to the other floors” – Lance said, sincerely saddened; Bryniar flashed a dreaming glance: “Say… Is it as beautiful as they say, the dawn and the sunset on the 1st Floor?”

“Why do you ask me such things? I don’t want you to feel hurt. The permanent twilight of the 4th Floor must be so depressing. But yes, it’s incredible the way the light changes on the 1st Floor, gradually morphing from dawn to daylight and then to sunset.”

“I’m glad you like it. I did it” – Bryniar revealed with a proud smile – “I set up the lights to change according to the hour of the day. When I arrived here, the light could go only on or off.”

“You did it??” – Lance exclaimed – “You’re a genius! More, an artist! But why don’t you do the same here on the 4th Floor?”

“The solar panels don’t provide enough power; so, they decided that the 4th floor could be sacrificed…”

Lance looked at Bryniar in shock. The way the people of the 4th Floor were treated was… intolerable! He frowned, while a sudden thought crossed his mind; he made some brief calculations and then said: “The 1st Floor is roughly 7 times wider than the 4th Floor, and the 2nd Floor is 4 times wider. If you cut the daylight one hour shorter on both floors, you can spare enough power to… bring a new dawn here on the 4th Floor!”

“Uh… Why should beautiful people give up on one hour of daylight for the benefit of us frea… for us living on the 4th Floor?”

Lance was irritated by the sense of hopeless submission that veiled the mind of Alastair, Bryniar and all the people of the 4th Floor, but restrained himself; instead, he stood up with an enticing smile on his face, pulled Bryniar away from the table and sat on his lap, linking his hands behind the man’s neck: “Let me show you why we should give you our daylight…”

Lance brushed his lips on Bryniar, who stifled a gasp of surprise; but soon he responded with passion to Lance’s kiss, and their tongues searched each other, in an erotic dance that seemed to Bryniar too beautiful to be true. Their breath became heavier, and Lance could feel under his fingers Bryniar’s body twitch and come to life. Strong, muscular arms enveloped Lance in a dominant, eager embrace, and a prying hand brushed along Lance’s back, down to the marble buttocks hidden inside his elegant linen trousers.

Bryniar suddenly recoiled and looked straight at Lance: “You’re not playing with me, are you?”

Lance glanced back at Bryniar with eyes full of tender affection: “My wonderful Bryniar, how hard must’ve been your life, if you think that I could be this cruel…! Besides, I’m the lucky one, here…”. They kissed again, exploring each other’s bodies with their hands, until Bryniar said: “What if we forget the stew, for now?”

“Yeah…” – Lance replied with a sly grin – “I’m hungry for another kind of meat right now…”

“Hold tight” – Bryniar exclaimed, and he quickly maneuvered the wheelchair around the table and to the bedroom, while Lance giggled excited, holding on tight to Bryniar’s neck. The bed had a sturdy metal support on its side; Bryniar grabbed it with one hand, while holding Lance by his waist with the other arm, and effortlessly stood up on his only leg, carrying Lance bodily.

“Oh… wow!” – Lance exclaimed, admiring Bryniar’s physical prowess, and didn’t have the least fear when Bryniar leaned over the bed and gently put him down on the soft mattress. It took them less than a minute to throw away their clothes, while a burning desire made their eyes sparkle.

 

~ A fierce one-legged stud ~

Lance stood on his knees and asked, cautiously: “How do you like it? If you lay down, I can ride you… I mean… it would be easier for you, right?”; but Bryniar, with a swift move, literally pounced on Lance and pinned him down on the bed, flashing a confident, dominant grin: “I prefer to be on top, if you don’t mind. I may miss a leg, but the other three limbs work perfectly fine…”

“I’d say…” – Lance murmured, pleasantly feeling at Bryniar’s mercy; the man’s powerful arms bulged, holding Lance down, and his ice-blue eyes flashed with unrestrained desire. Lance looked up into Bryniar’s eyes and felt pierced by his fierce gaze: he felt like Bryniar was… fucking him with the eyes, reaching depths inside him that no cock had ever reached.

“I… I…” – Lance stuttered, feeling his heart in his throat – “Fuck me, Bryniar… Whatever you want, I’ll give you…”

“Spit?” – Bryniar growled, and without waiting for a reply he started wetting his cock with his saliva. Lance was surprised at the easy way Bryniar balanced himself on his only leg and one arm, while using the other hand to smear his spit on his cock. And all the while, Lance had Bryniar’s ice-blue eyes dig deep inside him, giving him shivers of anticipation.

There was no foreplay, no kisses: Bryniar kept fucking the breathless Lance with his eyes while pushing his rock-hard cock inside his experienced ass, that welcomed the sweet intrusion with eager enthusiasm. They never broke the eye contact, and Lance felt completely, helplessly dominated by this stud who suddenly seemed in his element, totally oblivious of his physical disability.

Lance, too, while feeling his anal rings being stretched in the most exquisite way, realized that Bryniar could have one, two or any number of legs, and it would’ve made no difference: the way Bryniar penetrated him with caring confidence, the way he supported himself on his powerful arms and swayed his muscular body back and forth was so sexy and erotic that Lance felt his head spin.

Bryniar, staring deep into Lance’s eyes, was fully aware of the incredible effect he was having on him, and went on pumping his man tool in and out Lance’s ass with long, confident thrusts: he knew exactly, from Lance’s restrained gasps and his rolling eyes, what pleasure the guy was feeling every time the fat helmet skillfully brushed against his sensitive prostate.

Lance couldn’t move his gaze off Bryniar’s ice-blue eyes and uttered incoherent moaning every time he felt the man’s powerful hips press against his own buttocks; he felt filled, owned, connected to that wonderful man in so many ways, through their eyes, through his cock, through his strong hands pinning him down.

Bryniar flashed a knowing, loving smile and lowered his head to Lance’s, until their lips were less than an inch apart. Lance weakly shook his head, as he was already feeling loaded to the extreme; but Bryniar didn’t stop, he pressed his lips on Lance’s and invaded his mouth with a daring, greedy tongue. Lance felt Bryniar’s rough, manly stubble scrape his face and succumbed under the sensory overload.

“MMMMPPHH!!” – Lance screamed into Bryniar’s mouth, totally won by the man’s overwhelming sensuality, while his cock erupted a steady flow of white lava that made both their groins sticky. Bryniar recoiled a bit, looked straight into Lance’s eyes and growled: “I’m not stopping…”

Lance struggled to find breath enough to say in a coarse voice: “You can go on fucking me until next year, stud, and won’t hear me complain…”

How wrong was Lance, and how stupid he felt, for having believed that Bryniar, missing one leg, was unable to be a wonderful, powerful lover! How lame must’ve sounded to Bryniar his initial offer to ride him! The warm slickness on his belly, shameful proof of how fast Bryniar had made him lose control, rekindled the fire Lance was feeling inside him, a fire generously fueled by the long, powerful thrust that rhythmically filled his ass to the brim.

“You’re wonderful…” – Lance murmured, lost into Bryniar’s eyes – “You’re all a guy can dream of…”. Bryniar’s cheeks, already rosy for the exertion, blushed a little more and he flashed a shy smile, but his hips didn’t miss a beat. Deep inside, he felt amazed that he could give such vibrant emotions to the most beautiful of the ‘beautiful people’ living downstairs; and he felt even more amazed when Lance, after a brief moment of sexual exhaustion, started again responding with renewed passion to his love-making.

“Set my hands free…” – Lance pleaded – “Let me touch you, let me worship your wonderful body…”. Skillfully balancing himself on his only leg, Bryniar raised in turn his hands, setting Lance free, and soon groaned in delight when Lance started brushing his fingers on his torso, contouring his pecs and tickling his nipples.

“You want to make me cum…” – Bryniar growled, and Lance flashed a lustful grin: “I’m dying to feel your warm cream flood my insides… Give it to me, Bryniar… Pump your manly seed into me…”

“Can you make my happiness complete and give me another load?” – Bryniar asked, pushing on his arms to get leverage and raise his torso enough to let Lance grab his cock. “I told you…” – Lance moaned, stroking his own stiff member – “Tonight I’m going to give you whatever you ask for…”

The gentle thrusts of Bryniar’s hips paced up, become more powerful, more demanding; he bore again his gaze into Lance’s, reading the guy’s sexual tension like an open book. “Ooohh… Nnnngghh…” – Bryniar moaned, and Lance echoed him, climbing the last steps to his second, even more powerful orgasm: “I’m gonna cum… Aww… FUUUCCKK!!”

They both exploded in unison, groaning and moaning loud, Bryniar shooting like a fire hose into Lance’s ass, and Lance adding a fresh load to the one already smothering his belly. After the first moment of ecstasy, that made their eyes roll, they stared again at each other, sharing their pleasure, until their balls were drained, and the only sound that filled the room was their heavy breath.

With a small nimble leap, Bryniar rolled sideways and crashed on the bed, beside Lance. The contented smile that lit his face warmed Lance’s heart. “Thank you” – Lance softly said, turning his head to look at Bryniar, who looked surprised, so Lance added: “Not for the sex. Well, for that too, but… for not feeling insulted by my initial condescendence. With my mouth I told you that I didn’t care if you were missing a leg, but my acts told otherwise. I feel stupid…”

“I looked at you” – Bryniar replied, with an affectionate smile – “You’ve been aware of my missing leg for what, five minutes? My partners never forget that. And never let me forget it, either. You’re special, Lance. You have a big heart and a smart brain. Stay with me tonight, don’t go home. Please.”

“I’m not going anywhere…” – Lance warmly replied, already feeling his eyelids heavy. He rolled on his back and closed his eyes, and smiled when Bryniar gave him a peck on his lips and murmured: “Good night, my beautiful Lance.”

-~~~≈≈≈ooOoo≈≈≈~~~-

In the next chapter: Bryniar shows to Lance something amazing. Back home, Lance is angrily welcomed by Kareem, who then seeks for advice from the hunky resident shrink Doc Stevens; but in the end he’ll get the help he needs from the concierge Lionel, who has a not-so-secret crush for Kareem.