The Mutant Companion

Acceptance

Joffrey looked round the bare rooms that had been his home for almost a year. He had no regrets at leaving them. The landlord had been honest, the rent fair, and he’d been left entirely to himself, but it had never quite been the ‘home’ he’d lost when his cousin had betrayed him. Slipping into his smog suit, he made his way out, shutting and locking the door behind him. In the street, Mr Konsbruck waited, motioning him into the open airlock, then following him inside.

“We have everything stowed.” Removing his helmet, he started stripping his suit. “The smog is not as bad in this area as it is in the centre. We are collecting his lordship on the Baron’s Court Way, he was attending a symposium on air quality!” He laughed. “If his lordship is correct, then all that prevents the ignition of our atmosphere, is that it is too fuel rich!”

“He may well be right,” Joffrey responded, carefully suspending his own suit ready to be donned again. “I have succeeded in building a filter capable of reclaiming some of the condensates in the air. Insufficient to use as a fuel, but enough to create an extremely elastic synthetic material.”

Taking his seat, Konrad raised an eyebrow. He had been right about this young man, he would be the perfect companion for his lordship if they could just help him overcome his reluctance to accept affection. “Have you discussed that with his lordship? He will be very interested, he has been working on something of the sort for some time.”

“The opportunity has not yet presented itself, but I will do so as soon as it does.” Joffrey liked the Steward and felt he could be trusted. He’d also met a number of Lord Fontlebois household and had felt the warmth of the welcome they accorded him. It was a strange situation, he thought, to be welcomed by his “employer’s” staff as if he was himself a member of his lordship’s family, and not just another employee. Even stranger to know that they had been directly involved in finding and selecting him for his new position. 

“It will, you may be certain of it.” Mr Konsbruck leaned back in his seat. “Welcome to our company, Mr Joffrey. We are all delighted you have accepted the position. His Lordship especially so. He has needed a companion for far too long. We all hope you will find the position to your liking.” He smiled. “You will find his lordship extremely interested in your ideas and he encourages us all to find our niche and full potential. I think you will be exactly the companion he so desperately needs.”

Joffrey made a reply, hiding his surprise. He had a lot to consider in this appointment. It had been made plain that his lordship wanted a companion, though it was left to Joffrey as to how to interpret that and fit into that role. Trained as a valet — a role he had chosen because it left him free to pursue his more scientific interests, and allowed him to avoid social contact that might be difficult to control due to his sexual appetite once aroused.

His suite in the house adjoined his lordship’s Dressing Room and bedchamber, a door from his own sitting room giving access directly into the Dressing Room. From there, a short passage gave access to a bathroom, and thence the master bedchamber. In the other direction, Joffrey had his own bedchamber, a smaller dressing alcove and bathroom, all comfortably furnished and appointed. The sitting room now held his own small library and desk, and a small workshop had been assigned for his use in the engine house.

Satisfied he had everything in place, and knowing his employer was not at home, he entered the Dressing Room. His valet training took over and he checked everything and every item, noting in his pocket notebook where it was kept, how it was kept and the style and quality. His curiosity was aroused when he noted that his lordship favoured briefs of an unusual cut, the front heavily reinforced, and the waistbands broader than usual and clearly stronger. Another drawer opened to reveal what looked remarkably like heavy leather chastity belts. Noting these, he carefully closed the drawers, checked his lordships instructions for dinner attire and laid it out. Then he set out the bathing materials, made sure the towels were handy, fresh underwear and attire laid out, and returned to his own rooms to change to the outfit appropriate to his employer’s tastes for the evening. 

Checking his appearance in the full length mirror, he considered his reflection. The close fitting trousers showed his legs well, the prosthesis adequately disguising his very prominent Mount of Venus and the shape of his genitalia. The calf length indoor boots were elegant, and the shirt, open at the throat, neat. He slipped on the light full skirted coat and checked his appearance again. His lordship had said to wait for him in the Library, and to help himself to any reading matter he fancied.

For a moment he hesitated, then shrugged. “I cannot continue to deny my anatomy — at least not in the privacy of this house and among the people I must live with,” he told his reflection. “I am certain the household know already, and his lordship — Devlin,” he corrected himself, “has intimated his awareness.”

Opening his belt, he undid his fly, peeled his trousers, then carefully removed the prosthesis, adjusted his underwear, redoing his waistband. Studying his reflection, he shrugged. The image showed a modest but unusually uniform mound at his crotch. With care, it would do. Some clothing, however, had a way of slipping or moulding to his groin that could reveal rather too much of the actual shape of his crotch. It was a hazard as it was not only more prominent than a woman’s, but rather more bulky. His eye travelled involuntarily to the large wooden case atop the wardrobe, the legacy of his brief spell in the Recreation Centre. He shook his head, the contents of that box would remain private for now.  Opening a drawer, he placed the prosthesis with the others he used, locked it, slipping the key into his fob pocket and made his way downstairs to the library.

His lordship arrived to find Joffrey engrossed in a treatise on atmospheric engineering.

Glancing at the title as Joffrey set it aside and stood, he said, “Good evening, Joffrey. Interesting, but I think the authors are fundamentally wrong.” Devlin had obviously bathed and changed. “I hope you’ve settled in. Thank you for taking the time to set out my bath, by the way. I needed it!”

“My pleasure, sir — Devlin.”  He smiled, taking in the perfect set of his companion’s coat, like his own, a light suede leather, though, unlike his own, evidently tailor made. “I suspected you might like one after a busy day in the city.” 

Returning the smile, Devlin turned to a small table. “Will you join me in a sherry before we eat?”

“Thank you.” Joffrey adjusted his coat skirt. Unaccountably, he could feel his crotch swelling with arousal, an experience he tried to avoid in company. He wished he’d not removed the prosthesis now. Accepting the glass, he tried to shift his own attention from the strange attraction he felt in Devlin’s company. “I have some ideas regarding filtration of the atmosphere to recover some of the volatiles at least.”

“Indeed? Excellent, you must show them to me tomorrow then!” Draping an arm over Joffrey’s shoulders, Devlin steered him toward the comfortable armchairs at the fireplace. “Enough of the workplace though. Tonight we begin to know one another. What do you think of the art of Famagustose? A certain expertise there, and a fine eye for his scenes, but a little stilted I think?”

“I’ve not seen a great deal of his work. I prefer that of Mr Turner. Not quite iconographic, but very lively and pleasing to the eye.” Had Devlin noticed his arousal? He was grateful for the distraction, and felt himself relaxing and the pressure easing as they discussed the work of several artists, discovering in the process a shared, but different taste for different works.

Dinner passed in a very convivial atmosphere, and so did the rest of the evening. Glancing at his fob watch — an heirloom from his grandfather — Joffrey put his glass down, and made to rise. “If you’ll excuse me, Devlin, I must prepare your night attire for your use.”

Putting his own glass down, Devlin rose to stand in front of him. “Only if you have a desire to do so, and then only if I may watch you at work, my friend. You are my companion, though if you wish to set out my clothes — and you laid out my evening dress beautifully — I have no objections!” 

Joffrey hesitated for a moment. “If you wish, Devlin, I feel I should act as your valet while we learn to know one another, and I do wish to see to your comfort.”

In his own bed, Joffrey stared up at the dark canopy. It had been a very strange day, and a stranger evening. His response each time Devlin was close, or they touched for any reason, also concerned him. He knew how deeply he could be hurt by those who found his sexual deformity a source of amusement, or something to be used for their pleasure and not his. The betrayal by the uncle he’d thought loved him and who’d persuaded him to take up residence in his house on the grounds that this would allow them more frequent and less constrained pleasure had turned out to be simply a ploy to deliver him into the hands of the anti-mutant authorities.

He’d been naive, lonely, hungry for love, and he’d allowed himself to be manipulated into the very situation the law decreed for those with his deformity. It had cost him dearly, and his family as well. He’d tried to leave, only to find himself captured and taken back to worse.

The incarceration in the House of Recreation had been the turning point. His mother and a distant relative with considerable influence had somehow smuggled him out, then provided him with the care and support in which to recover. It had cost his mother dearly to nurse him back to health, and to provide him with the means to adopt the new identity he had needed to return to normal life, evade the law which still hunted him, and to enter the valet school. Now, her health gone, he spent much of the small income from his patents on purchasing little luxuries for her.

His fingers probed the thick lips, seeking the small misshapen penis nestled between them. It was rigid now, and out of its normal hood, the sensitive inner lips that normally enclosed it. Excited by his own touch, but more so by the thought of the man he’d spent the evening with. His finger found the moist, warm opening hidden between his legs and he fancied what it might feel like to have Devlin fill it. In truth, he’d enjoyed that aspect of his brief spell in the Recreation House, though much of it he remembered only through the drunken haze of hormonal imbalance, often restrained for those who enjoyed having a helpless partner for their pleasure. Like many, he had made the mistake of thinking it would always be ‘special’ to his sexual companion. The discovery that it was not, had almost broken him. 

His fingers worked their magic and he shuddered, groaning as he climaxed, as ever, his ejaculation coating his own crotch and the sticky fluid trickling into his own vagina, itself in the rictus of an orgasm. Quietly, he rose, carefully cleaned himself, used an unusual applicator to fill his vagina with a special gel of his own formulation, and then retired again. This time to sleep.

At precisely six o’clock, Joffrey drew back the curtains on Devlin’s bed.

“Six o’clock, Devlin. I have brought your tea, the Times and your post.” He held the dressing gown for the tousle haired man.

“Six o’clock? So it is. Joffrey, my friend. You are a marvel. Fully dressed, groomed and ready as well! This will never do, my friend. In future, you must perform this service for me in your night clothes.” He held up a finger. “I insist. I won’t have you rising an hour or more ahead of me just so you can be impeccably turned out when you wake me.” Swinging his feet out of the bed, he stood, inserted his arms into the dressing gown sleeves, then wrapped himself in it. “Oh. And fetch another cup while I do the necessary! I’d like you to take tea with me from now onward.”

Torn between amusement and bemusement, Joffrey obeyed. His feelings churning at both the glimpse of his companion’s physique in flimsy silk pyjamas, and the instruction to join him for this early morning tea. Quickly, trying to control his emotions and his urges, he fetched the second cup, pouring two cups as Devlin returned from the bathroom. “I understand you take your tea with milk and one lump of sugar, Devlin. Have I that right?”

“You do,” Devlin replied, taking the cup and sitting down. “Did you sleep well?”

“Beautifully, thank you. It is a great deal quieter here than it was in my lodgings.”

“Ah, yes. It would be. We live in a totally enclosed environment here, Joffrey — a little idea I had regarding enclosing the buildings and gardens within a large glazed structure. It allows the control of the atmosphere, and, of course, excludes the noise of the streets.”

“As I noted when exploring the house yesterday with Tom, the groundsman.” Joffrey sipped his tea. “I am astonished at the bio-diversity it contains.”

“Thank you, yes, that is an essential part of this experiment. Without it the plants and animals could not thrive. It has required a great deal of effort to find the right balance and the keep it.” Devlin stared at the darkened window. “It is my dream to see this small ark become the restorative source for the rest of our despoiled land when once we may find the manner in which our fellow travellers can be persuaded to give up their continued destruction of it.”

Joffrey smiled. “I dream of a world in which the streams run clean and pure, the grass and trees, flowers and the birds I have seen only in books and pictures may once more roam free.” Turning toward his companion, he said, “I would give anything to be a small part of a project that saw that come to fruition.”

Devlin smiled, replaced his cup and saucer and reached a hand to grasp Joffrey’s sleeve. “Then we are well matched! You and I will see this dream to fruition. Together we will make it come to pass!” 

The touch sent an electric jolt through Joffrey. He smiled, his feelings churning. “Thank you, I shall be delighted to assist.” Standing, he said, “Now I had best leave you to the post and the news.”

“Nonsense.” Devlin passed the folded newspaper. “You can read it and tell me of anything important while I go through this correspondence.” He laughed, helping himself to another cup of tea and offering one for Joffrey. “Come, I am today ending my splendid isolation! Breakfast will be the most enjoyable I have had in years.”

“Joffrey! Good morning, I have a little surprise for you today!” Devlin’s smile lit up the room as Joffrey carefully placed the tea tray with the post and the newspaper on the low table before their chairs.

“Really, Devlin? What has occasioned this?” Surprised that Devlin was already awake and out of bed, Joffrey turned. “Have I been so preoccupied I have missed some earth shaking event?”

The six months since their first early tea together had wrought a remarkable change in Joffrey and in his employer. A friendship had developed based on respect and mutual interests. Both now felt able to relax in one another’s company, and both had developed a deep respect for the other’s intellect and abilities. The early attraction Joffrey had felt for Devlin had grown stronger, but also made him more cautious, and wary of any physical contact when alone with Devlin.

“Come, come! Have you forgotten your own birthday, my friend? Surely not!”

“My birthday? Oh, of course.” Joffrey smiled, a little sadly. “Not something I have celebrated for some time now!”

“We shall have to change that.” Devlin advanced, and flung an arm round Joffrey’s shoulder, drawing him into an embrace. “Congratulations on your birthday, Joffrey. I have a small gift for you. One I hope will give you pleasure.”

Carefully returning the embrace, and very conscious of the feelings it invoked, uncalled, in his groin, Joffrey eased himself free. “I’m sure it will be perfect, Devlin. Thank you for remembering it.” His hand trembled as he poured their tea, and he found his eyes stinging as tears threatened. “Oh dear. If you’ll pardon me, I’m not accustomed to such affection.” Wiping his eyes with his hand, he struggled to control his feelings.

Devlin’s concern showed. “What? Oh! Oh, my poor Joffrey! How crass of me, I’ve quite overwhelmed you. Here, allow me to offer my handkerchief.”

“Thank you, I seem to have mislaid my own.” Joffrey dabbed at the tears now flowing freely down his face. “I’m sorry, Devlin, I really am. I cannot explain why I am such a watering pot over this …”

Concern showing in his face, Devlin sat, and patted Joffrey’s shoulder. “Do not apologise, my friend. I surprised you, and in my eagerness, have upset you.” 

Gripping the hand on his shoulder, Joffrey smiled, dabbing his eyes. “Please do not apologise, Devlin. No one has shown me more friendship, more kindness than you in these six months. It is my own stupid fear that is the barrier, not your kindness.”

“Then I shall have to help you break down that barrier.” The grip on his shoulder tightened. “And you must help me destroy the barriers I have built around myself, Joffrey. Kindness and friendship are no more than you deserve, but I want to give you so much more when I am able to reach past my own hurts and walls.” Smiling at the surprise in Joffrey’s face, he said, “Now our tea is cooling. Let us drink it while we may, and then open your present.”

(This story is an experiment at combining Steam Punk and Gay Eroticism. I'd appreciate your feedback as the story develops. Please leave me a comment  with your views.)