Date: Sun, 8 Apr 2001 12:56:47 EDT
From: AmateurishWriter@aol.com
Subject: M.A.R.C. Ch. 1

M.A.R.C.

Warning: The following story is a work of fiction.  It is a fantasy.  It
never happened, except in the author's imagination.  This story may contain
sex between teenage boys, a man and a teenage boy and other male teens.
The author does not encourage or condone sex between adults and little
children.  If you are underage, or this is illegal where you are, you
already know what you're supposed to do.  Delete this file and find
something else.  If this kind of story turns you off, delete this file and
find something else.  If you're looking for a story that has someone having
sex in every other sentence, this one is not it.

The author retains the copyright for this story.  Placing this story on a
commercial web site without the authors permission is a violation of that
copyright.

Comments to AmateurishWriter@aol.com, pro and con and of a constructive
nature, will be gratefully received and acknowledged, if possible.  Flamers
will be ignored.


Author's Note

A lifetime seems like an eternity to a boy and the blink of an eye to an
old man ... or so I've read.

My name is Marc.  Just Marc.  No last name.  Or none that I know of anyway.
I'm 13.  Or at least I look 13.  If I told you how old I really am you
would never believe me.  Don't worry, you'll come to understand.

I was the first fully functional like me of many yet to come and this is my
story.  Well, the story of how it all started.  There may be more stories
after this one, if time permits.  I'm sure it will as I have all the time
in the world.  This story is written from the perspective of my first
father.  That's because I know it would please him and make him very happy.


Introduction

I had retired from my marketing firm at 44, having sold it for an obscenely
huge amount of money.  Now, 5 months later, I had already substantially
increased my net worth by online trading.  I used the Internet to
investigate all sorts of high tech and scientifically intriguing companies
and it had paid off unbelievably.  In my investigations I began to see a
pattern of relationships in a number of firms that whet my curiosity.
Then, I discovered what proved to be the keystone.  An executives name.
Could it be?  I did some checking and it just might be.  So, I sent a blind
e-mail.

Dear Eddie.  If you're the Eddie I think and hope you are, please contact
me as soon as you can regarding possible assistance with a business deal.
Does the nick name Sir Lancelot ring a bell?  If you know what I mean by
that then you will be able to find and contact me, I'm still at the same
address.  If not, then my most embarrassed apologies for this very strange
e-mail.  Signed - An old friend from years ago.

Eddie had been my one and only boy love.  I had been 19 and he had been 13.
We were lovers for over two years until his mother made us break it off.  I
had left broken hearted but, as she insisted, never contacted him again.
He knew where I lived but never tried to contact me either.  It left a hole
in me and my life, for I had truly loved him with all my heart.  But, time
has scarred it over.  And now, it's all come rushing back.  Would he be
angry or just unfriendly or had his love been everlasting, as mine had
been?  I think that it had been so and we would be friends once more.


Chapter One - What goes around comes around or one boy's goose is another
man's gander.

"You've got mail!"

The e-mail alert startled me and now the title bar stared me in the face.
It was direct from Eddie.  My Eddie, no mistake.  He'd found me but what
would the e-mail be, friend or foe?  I stared at it for a good 10 minutes.
Finally, forced by the threat of an automatic log-off for inactivity, I
screwed up my courage and clicked on the read button.

Dear John - Has it really been 23 years?  I can't believe how time flies.
I was so glad to get your e-mail.  Sir Lancelot.  Boy, does that ever bring
back memories, warm memories.  It will be good for me to tell you how much
our relationship meant to me.  As for the business deal, I've been aware of
your great success in research and marketing and think that our little
project might be right up your alley and in more ways than one.  A
corporate jet will be waiting for you at the airport Friday afternoon at
1:00 p.m..  Just come to the pilots' office and ask for aircraft number
NL597M.  Dress casual and bring an overnight bag.  I look forward to seeing
you.  As ever.  Eddy

Funny how some things never change.  As a kid, Eddie always insisted on
spelling his name Eddy.  I was feeling very emotional.  This being our
first contact after all these years and it was warm, kind and friendly.

It was short notice but traveling light was my specialty.  Soon I was
pulling into the local airport and entered the pilots' office carrying my
day-pack with just the essentials.

"John?"

"Yes."

"I'm Sam, your pilot and this is Henry, your copilot.  First names only
this trip.  That means the boss has a big deal in the works."

"I hope so," I said.  We walked out to the jet.  It was a nice twin engine
job and as we climbed in I saw that it had two large executive chairs on
one side and two pairs of facing two seaters with a table between them on
the other.  In the tail was a galley and head.  The pilots walked up to the
cockpit and Sam turned at the front executive chair.

"John?  Meet Marc.  Marc is the nephew, or something, of one of the new
executives.  He came along for the ride."  The chair swiveled slowly around
and the most perfectly beautiful boy that I ever saw came into view.

"Hi, I'm John," I said sticking out my hand.  He took my hand and gave me a
good strong confident handshake.

"It's a pleasure," he said.  His voice was, well, musically adolescent is
what comes to mind.  His hand was warm and dry.  He kept contact just a
moment longer than necessary and as he let go he let his finger tips touch
mine and the most delightful tingle of pleasure went up my arm and down
into the very center of me.  I had to sit down because I was getting weak
in the knees.

I fully expected the pilot to say; "he has that affect on people" but he
didn't.  He just said, "Buckle up please" and closed the cockpit door
behind him.  I heard it lock.

We took off right away and headed to the northwest.  The flight was smooth
and uneventful.  Marc, on the other hand was an accomplished
conversationalist.  He was very polite and seemed genuinely interested in
any topic.  I made a note to compliment his father, Uncle or whatever, if I
was introduced.  We landed at what looked to be a large industrial complex
and disembarked right into a stretch limo.  Marc as well.  When we pulled
up to a private entrance in the executive garage I recognized Eddie right
away.  The 23 years had been good to him, very good.  "I hope you enjoyed
your ride Marc.  They're waiting for you inside."

"Thank you sir," Marc very politely shook hands with me and went inside.
Eddie turned to me and embraced me with genuine feeling.  We each shed a
tear.

"Oh Eddie, I was so stupid."

He graciously disagreed.  "No John, we both made mistakes."  We agreed to
have a good talk after dinner but in the mean time, he had a private
meeting set up for me.

The "private meeting" was eventually concluded with; "John, we know you
have been investigating us for investment purposes but we'd rather you
invest your research and marketing talents in us instead of your money.  In
return for very generous compensation of course."  The two technicians had
made a very impressive presentation and I hadn't been far wrong in my
rather imaginative and futuristic conclusions.  They were about to announce
to the world the perfection of an android creation process.  I had imagined
Data from Star Trek-The Next Generation but that was where I was wrong.  My
vision and imagination fell short.  Way short.

Eddie now explained that the consortium of corporations for which he worked
had decided that realism was vital.  People just wouldn't be able to accept
a pasty faced, rigid Data type but would rather have a product that blended
in with society.  I agreed but was that possible?  Could these androids
pull it off?

"Well, John," Eddie chuckled, "you tell me.  We think they already have."

"I'd like to meet one," I replied.

"You just met two and spent an hour with them and never guessed."

"You're kidding!  Holy shit!"

"Yeah, that was my reaction too."  Eddie invited me to his suite for dinner
and another business meeting afterwards.  At dinner we would fill each
other in on the past 23 years.  He explained that he had done a security
and background check on me and was pleased that I had had two more
wonderful and loving relationships since him.  But he also knew that there
were a few voids in my life now.  He thought that his project might help to
fill them.  He assured me that all concerned had complete faith in my
ability to successfully do both the research and the subsequent marketing
plan that would make this branch of their android project a world wide
success.  I was very curious to say the least.

At dinner I was very happy to learn that Eddie had married after college
and had two wonderful children.  The last 23 years had been very happy
ones.  His wife and sons were wonderful and he often spoke of me warmly as
a big brother/father figure.  He credited my love for him with a great deal
of his happiness.  He was never bothered by the sexual aspect of our
relationship.  He did it for love; for his love of me and my love of him.
He enjoyed it and never felt guilty about it even though he never felt the
desire with anyone else.  I suggested and he agreed, that meeting his
family might be awkward.  Besides he said, "The nature of your research
will have to remain discreet as you will soon understand.  Tell me honestly
John, just as if it were only you and I 23 years ago.  What did you think
of Marc?"

"I'm sorry?  I'm not sure I understand."

"Let me ask you another way then; what did you think when you first saw
him, what did you feel?"

My God.  He knew.  Eddie knew what I thought when I saw Marc.  After all,
he does know me even though it's been 23 years.  Oh Lord!  He knows what I
felt too!  Could it be?  Was it possible?  "Eddie," I wondered out loud,
"are you saying that Marc is a ..."

"Yes John, he is.  Pretty impressive huh?"

"Yeah but what is your market, or who?"

"Why people, men as well as women, with your interests, desires and needs.
They'll no longer have to live in denial and abstinence or in constant fear
of society's disapproval, not to mention the law.  Our only concern is if
their needs will be adequately satisfied and how to market ... well, our
product, for want of a better word.  That's why we approached you."

"But Eddie, I wrote you."

"Yes but we knew you were investigating us and I knew if you saw my name
you just might try to contact me."

I laughed out loud, "why you sneaky son of a bitch.  HA!  What a hoot!
God, I still love ya!"  We smiled from ear to ear at each other.

"So, what's the deal?" I asked.

"You mean compensation?"

"Well, that too I suppose but mainly, what do you want me to do in the way
of research."

"Oh, I guess I just assumed you'd understand.  We want you to test our
M.A.R.C. Unit and furnish reports."

"M.A.R.C. Unit?"

"Yes, M.A.R.C., an acronym for Multi-modal Adolescent Research Companion
... Marc."

"Oh Lord," I groaned.

"Yes, I know.  But we had to come up with something to call it."  He smiled
with a touch of embarrassment.  "Your research will be very personal but
well worth it.  I think you'll agree.  Both the social satisfaction of
helping to resolve a societal problem and, of course, your compensation."

"My compensation?"

"Why Marc of course, or some other unit maybe more to your tastes."

"Phew, ah, oh my."  I blushed deeply despite our very personal history.
"Ah, Marc will do just fine.  Oh my."

"John, I finally feel I can do something to repay you for your love and
friendship at a time in my life when I needed it most."

"Oh Eddie, your success and happiness was and is more than enough."

"Maybe for you but I want to do more and this couldn't be better."

"Well, it's late and we have a lot to do in the morning.  You need to be
given some simple training about Marc's modes and how to file reports.  He
has two modes, research and recreational, so it wont be too complicated.
However, we will be modifying the modes later when you've progressed to a
certain point in the research.  I have to get home so enjoy the suite here
and I'll pick you up at 8 a.m.."  We embraced again and Eddie left.

"Wow!  How was I going to sleep?"

Next: Chapter Two - John!  You're a daddy and it's a bouncing permanently
adolescent and horny boy.