Date: Tue, 12 Oct 2010 17:40:59 -0500
From: Alan Bock <abock2010@gmail.com>
Subject: After Today -- Pt 2 -- Sci Fi/Fantasy

Disclaimer: This is a story of pure fiction. It contains gay sex. If you
are offended by this topic or under the legal age, please stop reading now.

	About five miles past the checkpoint, Bane saw something he never
expected to see again -- a traffic jam. The interstate was packed with
green, black and brown army vehicles. They were entering the highway from
an unmarked entrance. Bane gazed up the road from where they came and saw
them stretch back into what looked like some type of mining complex.

	The slaver reached towards the dash and flipped off the
A/C. "Pleasure's over. We'll over heat if I keep it going in that mess, and
trust me you don't want to give the Defence Force a reason to vaporize
us. Roll down your window."

	Bane complied. To be truthful, the wave of dry, windy heat that
rolled in the window was a blessed relief from the freezing breeze over his
bare chest. The truck lumbered on and joined the slow moving parade. As the
truck slowly swayed and the hot breeze waifed over him, Bane found the past
12 hours catch up with him; he'd been awake since late afternoon yesterday.
His eyelids became heavy, and soon........

	The vehicle stopped with a jerk. Ben woke with a start. "Hey, Bane,
we're here," the kid with the curly red hair sitting next to him said as he
gave him a gentle shove." Ben rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stood up
from the school bus bench. He grabbed his white and red school sports bag
emblazoned with "Lancdale Trojans", the school mascot. Ben stretched and
followed Chris (aka Carrot) off the bus. Ben loved Fridays, and this
weekend would be especially great. Tomorrow was the first Swim Invitational
of the season and on Sunday he turned 16! When he'd woke up this morning,
there had been a set of car keys in his breakfast bowl -- keys to a new
(well new to him at least!) car. Sure it was a 2005 Ford Focus with 80000
miles on it -- but it was his!  Or at least would be on Monday when he
upgraded his driver's permit to a full license.

	Ben "Bane" Cody flowed into the school with his teammates. They
were all dressed identical today -- red wam-up pants with white stripes
down each side, white sleeveless T-shirt with a red Trojan (the warrior,
not the condom!) poised defiantly on the chest, with a red and white team
jacket with his number (42) and nickname (Bane) on the back. They had all
been bussed in on the "jock" bus, which arrived at the school 90 minutes
early on Fridays so teams could have practice before school in case they
had a meet or competition early on Saturday.

	By long standing custom, on the Friday before the first Swim Invite
only the swim team held practice before school, mainly because of the first
part of today's practice. When Ben and Chris arrived in the locker room,
they were greeted by Ted "Thunder" Jones and Kevin "Knife" Anders, the team
captains. As was tradition, both were naked and standing at the edge of the
shower room. All the lights in the locker room had been left off except for
the lights in the shower. And in there only red lights were turned on. This
was a school tradition dating back to the 40s. The boys teams showered in
the school colors before big games and invites.  Behind them all 15 showers
were turned on full power and all the way to hot. Steam billowed out around
the two naked boys. There bodies glistened from the water and shone with
almost a luster, for the other fact about their appearance was they were
completely hairless, from head to toe. The effect was to make them appear
like some type of Greek god stepped out of legend.

	Ben remembered the scene last year when he had been a freshman. The
site had been burned in his mind. Prior to that day, he'd never seen the
juniors or seniors naked, they always showered while the freshmen and
sophomores put all the equipment away. So while he'd seen his classmates
naked often, he'd never seen the older boys naked, had never seen someone
so hung. He remembered getting a little hard at the sight.

	This year, he again found himself admiring the two naked
bodies. Ben wasn't gay or anything, but Thunder and Knife were the team
captains because they were the best on the team, and their bodies were a
testament to their commitment to swimming. Just like last year's captains,
they stood in the billowing steam completely hairless.

	"OK boys, time to get ready for the meet tomorrow. First things
first -- we remove anything that might impede your speed.  And that means
your hair -- ALL your hair," Thunder stated. Several of the freshmen
giggled at that.

       "Here's the deal," Knife continued, "we're all guys here. Most areas
are easier with a partner, so each of you will partner up. We know we are
sensitive to touch in certain places.  Some of you will probably throw a
bone -- just think of it as an easier handle to grip when you're shaving
your partner. It doesn't mean you're gay, just that you're a boy."

       "Everyone take care of business this morning like you were told?"
Thunder asked. Again a couple of the freshmen sniggered, but everyone
nodded.

       At the end of practice last night, the coaches had left so the team
could talk. They of course knew this occurred, but, for obvious reasons,
they had no part of it. In fact they would not be here for 45 minutes, so
the team could do this with out them. Knife and Thunder had explained that
swimmers shave all their hair off, because the hair caused drag in the
water. And while it probably didn't make a difference at the high school
level, especially for the younger boys, the whole team shaved all their
hair to show team pride -- it was a swimmer thing. The final instruction
had been to "relieve themselves" when they woke up in the morning. "And I'm
not talking about just pissing," Knife had finished. He had moved his fist
up and down in an obvious gesture for anyone who was completely dense.

       "It helped prevent some premature embarrassment," Thunder
quipped. Ben recalled last year one of the *juniors* had actually gone off
during the shaving. And then, like when someone sicks up, 3 or 4 others let
go. Ben had gone hard at that point, but thankfully Chris had finished
quickly and Ben had edged back from the point of no return. But Ben also
remember he had had to jack off 3 times that night before he could get
calmed down enough to get to bed -- a record even for his hormone filled
teenage body.

       Ben had enjoyed his "relief session" this morning, as he did every
morning. He slept in only a pair of boxers. He liked the ones with the
smiley face centered on his crotch. He usually began by imagining Julie,
this girlfriend pulling back the covers and seeing this boxers for the
first time. When he got hard, his 5 inch dick would push out the piss slit
right were the smile was. Ben leaked a lot when he was hard, so despite the
fact he was cut, he didn't need to use lube. Also, thankfully, the doc
hadn't cut all his foreskin off, he'd left a partial hood so Ben still had
some skin to play with at the head of his penis.

       Thinking about how it'd would soon be gone, Ben took inventory of
his hair in his nether region. He definitely had more than last year. Then
Chris had only lightly brushed the razor over his nads, but that had been
more because he had been told to, than had needed to. This year he had some
light brown springy pubes starting to fill in.  Ben pulled on a couple as
he played with his balls. A couple of weeks ago, he had discovered that the
spot right behind his sack was a good place to caress.  As he rubbed there
gently, it built up the good feeling at the tip of his penis.

       Ben had also discovered that he liked the taste of the clear stuff
that dripped out of his piss slit. He'd put some on his finger and put it
in his mouth. It had a slight salty taste. He wondered what his actual cum
tasted like. He often thought that while he was jacking, but he also knew
that as soon as he was spent, the though of tasting his cum would become
instantly repugnant to him.

       His slow caressing of his dick head evolved into slow stroking of
his entire shaft. Ben used his thumb to give extra attention to the crease
on the underside of his head. He thought about Julie again, how it must
feel to have here mouth lower onto his cock. He never thought about doing
anything to her, he actual had little desire to fuck her, but he would like
to have her blow him.

       Ben's stroking became faster, he imagined Julie being more
aggressive with her head bobs. He imagined moving his cock in and out of
Chris's mouth, his hands going through Carrot's red hair. In and out,
faster and faster until....

       Ben felt the release course through his body. His abs spasmed up
like he was doing a crunch and cum splashed on his chest, a little even hit
his chin. He had discovered that he liked the musty smell of his cum, but
sure enough, now that he was spent, the though of actually tasting it
turned him off.

       Suddenly he remembered his fantasy -- why had Julie turned into
Chris? It must be he was subconsciously thinking about how Chris would be
holding his cock later on this morning, in order to shave that new patch of
hair. Yeah, that was it. Nothing queer about it. Truthfully, Ben's
fantasies sometimes turned to focus on a boy towards the end, but he was
sure that happened to all guys his age. With a smile, Ben cleaned up the
cum with his boxers, threw them in the dirty clothes hamper and headed into
the bathroom attached to his room to take the last hot shower he'd take for
over 3 years. He got on the bus and ...

       Ben had rid himself of his warm-up suit, shirt and speedo and
stepped in under one of the shower heads with Chris. Thunder and Knife had
suggested getting the "embarrassing zones" done first, so Chris had dropped
to his knees and had began lathering up Ben's legs. Ben started thinking
about his fantasy this morning, particularly the end where he had imagined
*Chris* with his head about where it really was now and him opening his
mouth and ...  and before he knew it, he felt the blood rush downwards. He
didn't get hard, but his normally 1" flaccid penis had more than doubled in
size, and the head, which was usually hidden inside its skin sheath was
starting to poke out. Ben also realized he'd moved his hips forward a
couple of inches.

       "Sorry man," Ben muttered. For a moment, Ben thought Chris's mouth
was hanging open some, like he *was* going to put his mouth on Ben's
cock. Chris gave a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head, like he
was telling himself, "no."

       "No worries," Chris said matter of factly. "At least I got something
to hang on to now, not much other wise." Chris smiled and laughed, as he
slowly and carefully shaved Ben's upper legs. Christ needed to get
underneath Ben's nut sack and so grabbed his crotch to lift it up...

       "You must be having a good dream," the gruff voice of the slaver
brought Bane back to the present. He had grabbed Bane's now erect dick
through his shorts, jerked it a couple of times and then let go. "Wake up,
we're almost to Vegas." The slaver had not even had a smile on his face.

       Bane and the slaver began to climb up though a low pass that Bane
remembered had been just south of Vegas. He saw they were coming to another
check-point, only this one was significantly more fortified than the the
first one. The natural rock barrier was being reinforced with a steel wall,
bar wire and and like. Temporary guard towers had been erected at points
were more permanent structures were in progress.

       	The the truck stopped at the gate, the transaction was very
business like. The slaver had already pulled out an ID card; he showed it
to the guard and waved through. As soon as they crossed the path, Bane
stared in amazement, Vegas was just as he remembered it.  Even in the
middle of day, he was mesmerized by the lights and activity of the casino.

       	"How is the possible?" he muttered under his breath.

       	"The Hoover Dam -- it withstood the Incident. And it's so old, it's
not run by computers or electronics. Doesn't produce as much as it used to,
but then we don't let the electricity get past us."

       	The slaver pulled off the interstate on the south strip and drove
to the MGM Casino.  It was glowing green with a big golden light statue out
front.  "Welcome to Mr. West's Citadel," the slaver lushed.  "Let's not
keep the old man waiting."

       ***** That's all for now. For those looking for some more action,
it's coming I promise. This is my first attempt at writing.  Please give me
some feedback.
       Comments to abock2010@gmail.com -- Make sure to add me as a friend
so I can reply to e-mail comments, my google account is apparently
considered spam by some providers.