The New Terrans

Chapter 5

Change in the air.

The only thing that made the month grounded at Circe bearable was the regular visits from the Guardians, chats with the Controller and a visit with him from his son, Jorge, to ‘service’ my Compo droid. In the process I picked up a lot of the politics underlying all the problems and the anti-mutant stuff. It seemed that the top for families who held the ‘admiralty’ were arguing about who should take the top post, usually passed on a rotation when the current incumbent died. Some of them wanted to change this, and it had split the families — and not just at the top. It rippled all the way down, and those who wanted things to stay the same were whipping up the anti-mutant issue as a means of attacking the factions wanting change. Both sides were now encouraging ‘independent’ groups to stir things up against their opponents.

I was glad I could get away from the arguments, the tension and the constant suspicion when I finally got the court’s permission to leave and deal with my work. At a safe distance from Circe, and after making sure I was not being followed, I set the autopilot and enjoyed having Compo ‘service’ me.

The autumn was starting now, and that meant I had to get all my maintenance jobs in the northern reaches completed within a two month window. The furthest North in my zone was Station Forty, and I needed another day to get there. Even in summer that area is difficult, which is why there is a fairly good hangar attached to the station. 

The communications unit signalled an incoming call.

“M Five-Zero,” I answered and the holo screen activated. The Regional control operator’s hologram appeared. 

“There’s a storm cell building in Area Three-three-nine, a bad one. A Category Six at least. It will pass through Station Forty in less than two days. You’re advised to hunker down in the shelter there if you can.”

“The Shelter there isn’t strong enough to stand up to a Cat Six. With your permission, I’d prefer to stay clear until the storm passes.” Damn, the airship shelter at the Station hangar was a well built and equipped facility, just big enough for one airship. Another thought occurred to me. “I’ve heard Guardian Patrol traffic. I think there’s one of their ships in that area. Have they been warned?”

“I’ll get onto them.” He checked with someone else. “You have permission to wait this out at Station Thirty-eight. That’ll keep you behind the storm track.”

Moving back to my pilot seat I scanned the horizon in the direction the storm was supposed be building. Spotting the distant cloud, I whistled. That was definitely going to be one hell of a storm. If my airship got caught in that … well there’d be one less mutant for Mutant Control to keep track of. 

A new callsign popped up on the display. On the horizon to my left, the towering purple and angry greys of the building storm continued to grow. Clearly this was no ordinary storm, you could see the roiling in the clouds and the colours were ominous. This looked to be one of the, fortunately rare, super storms that occurred at intervals of twenty to fifty years. I’d never seen one, but it was clear that was about to change. I accepted the com call, and the hologram of the Guardian I was expecting to meet at Station Forty appeared. One of the nicer Guardians I encountered, he liked to ensure I got as much enjoyment from sex as he did.

“You won’t find shelter at Thirty-eight, M-fifty. The storm brushed through there.” The hologram flickered. “Keep your current heading, I’m heading to intercept you and join you at a safer refuge — this storm is going to be a bad one, and your ship won’t have adequate protection.” The hologram glanced at something out of the projection. “I’m closing your current location, when I have visual I will transmit a new course and coordinates for you. They’ll take you to a safer shelter.”

“I’ll comply with your instruction.” I replied, more for the ‘form’ of it than necessity. His contact with me or any other ‘exiled’ Mutant would be recorded in his log. That meant I needed to ensure my responses were correct. I had an idea I knew where he wanted to go and he was right, it would be a good place to wait out this storm. If I guessed right, he wanted to shelter in a huge cavern entered from an opening in a sheer cliff large enough to admit an airship. However, that was only the half of it, inside the tunnel it opened out to a vast domed cavern, so huge it had it’s own ecosystem and was large enough to accommodate a fleet of ship’s like mine. The shock though was that a Guardian knew where it was. The location was, or so I believed, known only to my fellow mutants.

It also meant steering toward the storm’s track. The coordinates appeared, I acknowledged them, programmed my Nav system, then summoned Compo. I needed to empty my sperm bladder again …

The cavern is huge, and this, my second visit to it was as amazing as my first. It is not a ‘natural’ cave, but who, or what, created it is unknown. Its existence is known only to us wandering exiles which is why it came as a shock that the Guardian had the coordinates to it. It’s a strange place. The entrance is in a huge cliff of granite, partly concealed by a sheer ravine which necessitated care when, as now, there was a rising wind. Though my ship is, thanks to the lifting gas cells in the twin hulls, fairly broad, it passes through the tunnel with room to spare on either side of its stub wings.

The airships supplied to exiles like myself are agile, but not fast like those used by the Guardians — whose ships are not intended as ‘semi-permanent habitations’. Mine is a fairly new model, aerodynamic in form, with the accommodation, my workshop, the thorium reactor and the power units in the space between the twin hulls containing the lift cells. Stub wings at the mid section and fins at the stern give it the ability to cruise reasonably smoothly across the fungal-like forests and plains that make up most of the area I work, and my cruising altitude is comfortably above the highest peaks in what passes for mountains in this part. 

As the ship slipped out of the inner end of the tunnel, the vast beehive shaped cavern opened up in front of me, the ship’s flood lights lit up the huge space. The interior of these caverns is a very pale silvery grey colour, which reflects the ship’s flood lights, so despite the size of the space, the light is roughly equivalent to the soft light of early morning. Curiously there is no sense of threat when in the cavern, just a feeling of security. 

There are a number of these caverns in my area, all similar, with access through a wide nearly inaccessible entrance high in a rock face and difficult to see unless you know it is there. None are ‘natural’, all being lined by a rubber-like material, and with some rather strange, if not bizarre, structures on the completely level and smooth floor. Nowhere is there any trace of the creatures that made them, or what they were made for.

As on my previous visits to this, and the other identical caverns, I noticed an unusual response in my instruments. It seemed to affect Compo as well, making him more responsive and vocal. Several of my fellow EMs had noticed it, but none of us seemed to be able to find any cause. We didn’t  report it either, as we didn’t want to draw unwanted attention to these caverns. They offered us just about the only place we could meet and enjoy some human company — and some forbidden sexual contact — without being penalised for breaking the terms of our exile …

The Guardian’s ship was not present, so I took my time selecting a space to touch down, as always scanning for any other presence, human, animal or anything else. This place was a puzzle, and gave me a strange feeling. That no one now living knew who had created this place — and it was clearly a ‘made’ space — was troubling. There was no trace of any tools, remains, machines or any kind of remains. Nor were there any animals, or traces that they used it, but it paid to be careful. New Terra had few predators, but those it did have were intelligent, cunning, and deadly to humans. 

Automatically, once I’d set the ship down where I could not be approached without detection, I set my defence alarms, and prepared myself for the Guardian’s pleasure.

I knew this Guardian. He regularly availed himself of my ‘assets’. He liked to have me naked and fully restrained for his enjoyment, so I prepared accordingly, one ear on the com relay, set to broadcast news of the storm and any other happenings in the area. Shedding my latex suit, I exercised my muscular penis.

“Compo, I need to be lubed up and my ‘Head’ desensitised.”

“Yes, Master.” The pale pink latex mannequin detached himself from the charging station and moved to obey, his hefty dildo ‘penis’ extended. “Shall I desensitise you first?”

“Yes, please, Compo. The Guardian will expect a lengthy session.”

“I understand.” Kneeling in front of me, he took my glans into his ‘mouth’ and I felt the sting of the desensitising fluid engulf it. Briefly I shivered as my glans burned, and then all sensation ceased. Removing his mouth, the Compo unit stood. “Shall I lube you now, Master?”

“Yes, Compo. Give me a good priming fuck, and then max the lube.” I turned and presented my butt, curling my penis over my large scrotum as I did so. The dildo drilled into me and I had to brace myself against the back of my pilot seat as the unit gave me a thorough fucking, his dildo impaling me properly until I was gasping. Then he flooded me with what felt like a gallon of lube, and withdrew. “Thanks, Compo. You may prepare a set of full restraints for our visitor to install on me and go to standby in case he wants you to assist.”

“Yes, Master. Thank you, Master.” 

An alarm sounded as I finished prepping myself and I hurried to the Control unit.

“There goes the neighbourhood,” I quipped as the sleek form of the Guardian’s ship came into view. The incoming message indicator sprang into life. “EM Fifty receiving.” 

“I’ll put down next to you, Fifty. This storm is well over the predicted Six. I have informed your control that I have redirected you to more adequate shelter.” The hologram laughed. “I reckon Station Forty will need replacing by the time it’s done. Thirty-eight is a wreck.”

“Lots of work for a building crew then. Guess I won’t be doing any servicing in this zone for a bit.” I smiled. “I’ve prepared myself for you, Sir.”

“Good.” The hologram smiled. “I shall board you for inspection in five minutes.”

He came up my ramp carrying a full set of the most severe restraints I’d ever seen, nothing like anything the Guardians were issued with and grinning in anticipation. “Good, I see you realise that resistance is futile. Kneel and I shall restrain you.”                                           

“Yes, sir.” I knelt and grinned. “With what offence am I charged?” 

“With being a mutant, alone in a non-mutant’s presence, not wearing a quarantine suit …” He laughed, and positioned the metal hood and spinal support. “Which one should I make it? All of them?”

“Guilty as charged, sir. I am a mutant, naked and alone in your presence …” I stopped as he began locking the collar and fastening the waist locks. Clearly he was going to make very sure I was fully in his control.

It took him nearly fifteen minutes to render me fully secure. Now I stood before him, my head and the upper part of my face encased in a shiny metal ‘helmet’ rigidly connected to a shaped metal ‘spine’ now secured in place with a heavy metal waist belt, and a set of heavy belts across my chest and over my shoulders. My legs were now embraced by metal braces that restricted any knee movement and my arms were secured to the waist belt and the chest belt by cuffs. The leg braces were attached to the torso section by braces from the waist to the thigh cuffs and, just for good measure, my ankles were linked by a short hobble chain.

I’d heard of this form of restraint, but never seen, or worn, it. Walking was possible, in a very stiff legged manner and a shuffle, but there could be no escape whatever the Guardian intended. Turning my head was impossible, and so was any bending of my back. Movement was restricted to a sort of forward lean at the hips, and even that was restricted by the hip joints connecting the torso part to the leg braces. It was talked about by those who’d incurred a punishment in the Institute for Mutant Control, and I’d managed, so far, to avoid that. Those that had worn this in the Institute had not talked about what they’d endured in it …

“Yeah, I can see you’ve heard of this outfit.” The Guardian chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to do to you what they do in the Institute.” His hand found my penis and squeezed gently. “It’s not pleasant. If you’ve met someone who has worn it …”

“I know the guys who’ve been in it don’t talk about it …”

“I’m not surprised. They’re the lucky ones. The one’s that couldn’t be ‘conditioned’ as planned.” His voice was gentle, and his expression distant. “Have you noticed anything missing from this?”

“Not really … Oh, there’s nothing restraining my cock and balls, or covering …” 

“That’s because when you’re in this outfit you’re placed on a special ‘saddle’ and your balls are placed in a shaped receptacle, with your cock in a tube clamp. Your manhole is plugged, and you get pumped full of a gel that is absorbed by your body. You’re attached to the saddle by these anchor points on the waist and thigh cuffs,” His snort of laughter was not amusement. “It makes you mad with desire, and your ‘head’ so sensitive you can think of nothing else but ejaculating — and you can’t because your balls are trapped. Clamped inside their container.” The anger showed in his face. “The torture only starts there. When your pleas get to a certain level, they make you suck cock — and the ‘treatment’ continues. Eventually you’ll be fucked and then allowed to rest, and when you’ve recovered some awareness, put back on the saddle to repeat it …”

“Why are you telling me this?” Fear clutched at my guts. Had they discovered that I’d agreed to help my controller’s family in Circe to hide Jorge? Here I was completely at his mercy in the harness-restraint to be shipped for this torture. “Am I going to be taken to the Institute?”

“No!” His reply was sharp and angry. “Sorry. No, you’re not. Not if I have anything to do with it.” He paused. “My brother was a Mutant. EM Thirty-six. Do you know him?” He saw my attempt to shake my head, and continued. “No, you wouldn’t have met him. That’s the harness he was wearing when … He resisted their new conditioning too long. It’s supposed to turn you into a complete sexual freak. To make you sexually assault any male in your presence — but only when triggered. The idea is to turn the populace against you all so they’ll support the action some elements of the Command Council want to take — basically to remove everyone’s rights. For a long time people have been challenging the government structure — inherited positions based on the command structure of the Colony ships. They hope to stir up fear of a mutant revolt so they can impose complete control …”

“But …” The implications sank in. “Can they do this?”

“You’re wearing that harness.” His hands found my hips. “They were bloody close. But someone exposed what was happening. For now they dare not try anything more. Instead they are spreading rumours and stirring up the stupid. Now let’s get you out of that, I want to enjoy your special tackle and we’ve at least a week before this storm blows itself out.”

“No, sir. Leave me in it for now, and give yourself the pleasure of a good fuck.” Smiling, I added. “I’m a mutant remember. I need it.”

He removed his codpiece and released his impressive cock. Not for the first time, I wondered if he wasn’t at least partially mutated. About two inches shorter than mine, it was thick, straight, and damned nice looking. Turning me around, he bent me at the hips, parted my butt and pressed himself to my well lubed opening. Biting my lip as he entered me, I relaxed in his grip and savoured the feel of his rigid cock sliding into me. Oh yes, I needed this, and I was going to be here as long as the storm lasted … and so was he … I stopped thinking and let the sensations created by that gorgeous member thrusting deep into me.

Well impregnated, he put me on my bed, then gave me a beautiful blowjob. For a while afterward, he lay beside me, holding me in the severe restraints. Then very gently began to enjoy my rigid member again. 

Later, releasing me from the near rigid harness, he suggested we eat, and share a mallow beer, and let me enjoy his recharged penis. For a mutant this was bliss. A human companion who knew how to enjoy a mutant’s special attributes, one who took care of ensuring I enjoyed the sex as much as he did. A companion that was a normal human, and treated me like one. We talked a lot across a wide range of things, but the politics shocked me — especially when I learned that many mutants weren’t sent into ‘exile’, most were assigned to agri units or manufactories and treated as slave labour. 

“You know, you mutants scare a lot of people. Take yourself. You’ve got a better grasp of the physics and electronics than the majority of the non-mutants who build these ships. You also know more of the colony’s history, of the geography, the weather patterns … How do you guys do it?”

“I guess it’s because we’re on our own. It gets boring so I amuse myself by studying things.” I laughed as he played with my cock. “We may be sex on legs, but we’re not having sex all the time … Compo’s good, but you can’t hold a conversation with him, and he’s not subtle — when he fucks me, he fucks me.”

“True.” Guardian Seven-seven-one leaned over and kissed me. “I hadn’t thought about it before, but since you used that wind effect on the Casus Range …” Releasing my muscular penis, he patted my stomach. “Want to take a walk around this ‘cave’? It fascinates me …”

“Why not? I could do with a bit of different exercise. I’ll suit up.”

“As you like.” He laughed, groping my butt. “I like the view as it is.”

The storm rampaged across the land wreaking havoc along a ten thousand kilometre track. It was a monster, a record breaker. It battered several settlements damaging the domes as it passed.  

My Guardian companion had set up monitors outside the cave and these showed us how bad it was. As it began to ease, he announced, “I’ll have to go. They need everyone they can get out there. The Council families at every level are fighting amongst themselves and things are falling apart. Stay here, and don’t attempt to leave until it blows itself out.”

“Yes, sir.” He’d left my ship linked to his remote monitors so I could watch for the opportunity. Raising my penis, I smiled. “Would Sir like to have something before he leaves?”

He laughed, snapped the Mutant restraints onto my genitals and fastened my wrists. “Get the comp unit to fuck you. I’m going to have a last taste of this.” His hand grasped my rigid penis. Waiting until Compo was in place, he kissed my mouth, then knelt, and took my cock in his mouth.

I watched his ship depart with a feeling of loss. Two days later I manoeuvred the ship clear of the tunnel, contacted Mutant Control, and received orders to visit a number of stations to carry out repairs. Many were beyond repair, and those were not in my remit.

Returning to Circe was a little nerve-wracking. I went through the usual process, noticing the old quarantine droid was looking more beaten up than usual, and greeted the Controller who was very nervous. Of his son, Jorge, there was no sign. 

Feelings were obviously running high, and myself and another, EM One-Zero-Two, had to be escorted by a pair of Guardians to the Commissariat and the Registry. Once again, the Clerk was surly and tried to be difficult, but one of our escorts stepped in, had a quiet word out of our earshot, and we were escorted back to the Control facility without further problems.

One-zero-two left immediately, but the Controller informed me that they’d found a leak in one of my lifting tanks, and a serious problem with my Companion Droid.

“I’ll get the leak sealed as soon as I’ve done here,” the Controller informed me. “But the Droid will have to wait. I’ll assign an experimental model — our only spare — it’s a lot more advanced than your old one. Better program. Can hold conversations …”

“A ‘spare’ droid? One I can talk to?” I hesitated. “Can’t Compo be repaired?” 

“Oh, he can … but it needs some special tools and Jorge isn’t here …  he’s gone to the Tech School for an advanced course” The Controller hesitated, avoiding my eyes. “The spare is a special edition …”

“A special … Oh. Oh right then. Jorge isn’t here? Did the MPs catch ..?” 

“No, they haven’t but they’re getting too damned nosey, and there’s a few damned fools looking for an excuse to catch a mutant in town. So we’ve sent him for specialist training …”

The penny finally dropped, my libido was clouding my thoughts. Hot damn, he was saying I was going to have as my companion droid his gorgeous son disguised as my ‘droid’! How was that possible? Sure the kid could be disguised as one — anyone could and I was pretty sure the Quarantine Droid was Jorge — but could he act like a droid convincingly enough to fool a Guardian or a Mutant Police inspector? 

“It’ll be ready tomorrow? That’s fine, my schedule is flexible and I’m scheduled to be out for a full six months this time.” 

“I know.” The Controller smiled. “Thanks.” He hesitated. “Take care of this droid, and we’ll take care of this end.” He didn’t explain what he meant by that. “You needn’t worry about anyone challenging you on it — it’s a very good unit. Fully registered, approved and I’ll make the assignment. I’ll load the special stuff you’ll need for it. The droid will take care of it’s own servicing, so you don’t need to worry about it.”

“I like this droid already.” Pausing, I tried to find a way to ask an important question. “You aren’t worried that I might …? You know, permanently ‘damage’ this, er, unit?”

“Damage it? Oh, you mean …” He laughed. “No. It’s pretty robust … I know I can trust you to take care of it. I think you’ll find the substitute droid up to your needs.” Putting on his ‘business face’, he finished, “The droid will be installed first thing tomorrow, and I’ll have all your clearances ready to go as soon as it is. One more thing, you’ll be shadowed by a Guardian ship — to make sure you don’t have another bunch of fools try anything.”