Date: Wed, 29 Apr 2015 20:45:22 -0700
From: Sellar Dhor <sellardhor@gmail.com>
Subject: Evil is a Man: Blood In Blood Out chapter 32

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

If you like what you're reading, let me know: SellarDhor@gmail.com.
And let me know where you want the story to go and who you want Jake to end
up with.
And if you have any ideas for the future, let me know, I might include them.


       FEBRUARY 21st


       "Oh my lord, I have never in my life slept so easily and deeply.  I
think I just found a permanent cure for my insomnia.  Really, if you could
bottle your essence and sell it to all of us poor insomnias in the world,
you would make a fortune.  From now on, I am spending every night with you
in my arms and my dick well drained.  What do you say?"
       "Hmm," I said, getting out of bed and starting to put my PJs back
on.
       "At least when I was taught English, `hmm' was not the strongest of
affirmatives, but I'll take it."
       "I wasn't agreeing with you," I said.
       "Uh-oh," he said.  "You're getting dressed.  Looking like you're
itching to get me out of here.  Oh my god, I've become the bitter victim of
a one-night-stand, haven't I?"
       "Maxim, last night was a onetime thing," I said.
       "I knew it!  I know that line, I've said it so many times before.
Let me guess what's next, you think we make better friends than lovers, and
should just stay friends.  Wow, and I thought the sex was some of the best
I've ever had, and that's really saying something for me."
       "The sex was incredible, but last night, we were both so emotional
that I forgot that you are engaged to be married."
       "I can't help that, it was arranged by my father.  If I deny his
wishes, he'll remove me from my appointed position as the leader of the
Ministerstvo and take over the job himself, just like in the old days.  I
use that little bit of power to try and mitigate the hurt he causes.
Letting that go in the name of romance would be a failing to my people."
       "I know that, but I can't continue to let myself develop strong
romantic feelings for you, which I would surely do if we continued our
physical relationship.  I'm sorry, I really should have never let myself
slip.  It won't happen again.  But it's very hard now to see you lying in
the bed like that."
       "Like what?"
       "All naked and totally alluring.  Please get dressed."
       "Can we at least take one last shower together?  I can see some of
my dried seed on you, and it's only fair that I help clean it off of you."
       "No, that would only make me slip up again.  No shower."
       "You're banning us from bathing?  That's not exactly hygienic."
       "No, bathing is allowed and encouraged, in fact, as long as it's
done solo."  I threw his clothes at him.  "I hope this doesn't mean you'll
change your mind about sponsoring me."
       "Of course not, I'm not that petty.  And come tonight, we'll have
your new Bourgeoisie status to celebrate."

       *****

       I looked out at the spectators sitting in the pews of the Sword
Gardens, even more people that were there before.  Maxim was helping me put
my suit on to one side of the fencing platform as a pair of vampires
finished their match.
       "Don't be nervous by this crowd," said Maxim.  "Think about how many
people were watching me in the fire duel yesterday."
       "I could care less about the crowd.  What I'm scared of is losing."
       "Come on, you've got this.  There's no way your opponent will even
know which side of their foil to hold onto.  The only thing you'll lose is
the respect of the fencing organizers when your match takes you no longer
than thirty seconds to win, forcing them to move along their program too
quickly."
       One of the vampires on stage got poked in the heart for the third
time, and the woman in the suit came up to congratulate the winner.  "We
have another Qualifying Match for Proletariat challengers.  We usually get
only a couple of those a month and yet here we are, our second match of the
week.  Ladies and gentlemen, please give our two challengers a huge round
of applause as they make their way to the stage."
       The audience clapped politely as Maxim fastened my mask and handed
me my sword.  I climbed up onto the platform, telling myself over and over
in my head that I could do this.
       That was, until I first saw my challenger coming towards me in his
mask and suit.  He was a large, hulking, beast of a man, his muscles
bulging out of his white protective suit.  As he took the stage my jaw
dropped as I saw just how much of a size difference there was between us,
and I was all too thankful for the privacy the mask offered.
       I turned and looked at Maxim.  "I'm going to lose!"
       "Just because he's bigger than you doesn't mean he knows his penis
from his sword.  You'll be fine!"
       "Duelers, please show due respect by shaking hands."
       My opponent's grip totally crushed my poor hand.  I tried not to
show my pain as we pulled away and raised our swords.
       "Gentlemen, begin!"
       Right off the bat, while I was still thinking about the pain in my
hand, my opponent came at me.  I tried to parry, but my opponent made a
series of extremely well executed attacks, putting my parry attempt to a
quick end.  He was very, very physical, pushing and fighting rough.
       I saw Maxim emit a breath of angry flame, coming up to the official.
"He's can't do that!  He'll hurt my protégé!"
       "He hasn't done anything illegal!"
       "Well, if he so much as bruises him, I'm going to break up the fight
and show him a thing or two about strength difference!"
       "Maxim, please stop!" I said.
       Before I could stop being distracted and think about a plan B, my
opponent had buried his foil tip over my heart.
       "First point goes to muscle man!  Next round in thirty seconds."
       I walked over to my side of the platform.  "If you could see the
look I'm giving you now behind this mask, you would be quaking in your
boots.  So much for not knowing his sword from his penis, huh?  Because I'm
pretty sure that man distinctly knows the difference."
       "Okay, so he's had a lesson or two in fencing," Maxim said.
       "Or twenty.  And I can't think straight when you're shouting at him
in the middle of the match.  I need you to keep yourself calm, can you do
that, please?"
       He crossed his arms.  "It's hard for me to control my anger when I
see you getting roughed up like that.  I've grown very protective of you."
       "Grown, huh?  It seems to me you were protective of me from the very
first night we met."
       "True, but even more so now."
       "If you can't be in control, I need you to leave."
       "No, I'll do everything I can to restrain myself.  I'll wring my
handkerchief."  He pulled out his handkerchief to show me.  "And don't you
let yourself be intimidated by him."
       "But he's twice my size!"
       "You just tried to take him on muscle to muscle, of course you lost.
You need to let him win the raw strength contest, and let your skilled
speed win for you."
       "I'll try."
       "Gentlemen, resume!"
       Once again, my enemy came at me aggressively right off the bat with
a lunge, but this time I would not be duped.  I parried, letting my
opponent run right past me to the right, and I spun around before he even
knew what was happening.  By the time he even knew what was happening,
turning around to face me again, he was standing inches in front of the
edge of the platform.  He tried to step back away from the edge, but found
that I had moved against him, not letting him take an inch forward.  I felt
opportunity arise, knowing that if I could just push him off, he'd lose the
match just like that.
       I used all my skill to blast him offensively, my foil swinging
wildly pushing him back.  His right shoe scooted back, then halfway off the
platform.  But other than that, it was like running into a brick wall, he
absolutely would not be outmuscled by me.
       I tried to move back and reassess my strategy, but he got me right
in the heart.
       "Two points to the big guy!  One more to win!"
       I went back to Maxim in my corner, feeling angry.  I noticed he had
completely shredded his handkerchief already.  "This is happening because
you were so sure you were right, you refused to give me more than one
lesson."
       "Look, I'm sorry, okay?  But you had him on the run through most of
that round, you just shouldn't have tried to push him off like that.  You
can still beat this goon."
       I let that sink in as I walked back to our places.
       "Gentlemen, resume!"
       This was it, I had no more room for mistakes, I absolutely had to
win this one.  I used a feint- parry-riposte series that Michael and I had
practiced together, and it worked beautifully, God bless Michael.  My
opponent became duped into my movements just as I had planned, and when I
finally lunged towards his heart, I absolutely could not believe it when I
saw the tip of the blade connect for the very first time.  I heard Maxim
hooting and hollering behind me.
       "A point for Maxim's date!  Ladies and gentlemen, this match has
just gotten a whole lot more interesting!"
       I went back to Maxim, his face suddenly elated.  "Yes, see?"
       "Save the celebration for after I win.  Tell me now what I need to
do next."
       "Just do everything as you did this round.  You've really come into
your own."
       The woman in the top hat motioned for us to return to the platform's
center.  "Gentlemen, resume!"
       As the foils started to clang and clash once more, I tried that
feint-parry-riposte move one more time, only that time, my opponent refused
to be drawn into it at all.  We ended up both moving as fast as we knew how
to, with me perhaps able to move a little faster than he did, but with him
having a vast amount of moves available to keep me constantly guessing.
       The result was, I was being outplayed.  I knew I was going to lose,
and he could sense it too, grunting as he started to move in for the kill.
       It was the first noise he had uttered since he arrived, and there
was something oddly familiar about that grunt.  Only, the context I had
come to hear it was so very different from the context we were in now.
       "Alik?" I asked, still doing my best to fight.
       "Jake?  Jake, is that you?"
       "It is you!"
       Of course I should have known just by his height and solid
musculature, but I hadn't realized, and apparently he hadn't known it was
me until that moment either.  Did this change anything?
       No.  I needed to win, regardless of it was Alik I was fighting or a
stranger.
       There was something that shifted in his physical mannerisms, as he
just barely put up the effort to try and stab me in the heart, ending my
hopes.
       Taking advantage of this, I switched on like a light bulb, going
more aggressive than I even knew I was capable of.  He reached up and
protectively blocked his heart with his sword, but it wasn't his heart I
was aiming for.
       I pushed him off balance, and next thing I knew he had his right
foot off the platform, swinging around, trying to find its way back to the
platform.
       Instead, his foot landed on the ground beneath us.
       "We have a winner, due to force-out!" shouted the woman happily,
putting my sword hand into the air victoriously.  The crowd went wild with
applause as Alik stormed offstage, defeated.
       The most excited one of all clearly was Maxim, who was jumping up
and down in celebration, lifting me off the platform and running around
with me in his arms, forcing me to do a victory lap for the audience.  "You
did it, you did it, I told you you'd do it, and you did it!"
       He ripped off my helmet.
       "How come you're not smiling?"
       "Because I think the only reason I won that match is because I had
surprised him unfairly.  I don't deserve to be the victor."
       "Nonsense," Maxim said.  "Anyway, this victory could save your life.
All he would get out of this would be a chance to earn more money as a
Bourgeoisie."
       "And he's already one of the richest Proletariat men, surely.  No,
I'm not going to hand over my victory to him, I just am not going to gloat
about it, either."
       "Well, I'll just have to do enough celebrating for the two of us
then."


       FEBRUARY 22nd


       "Here's your official Bourgeoisie Identification Card," said Dima,
handing me an ID that even had my sepia and white smiling face on it, me
looking sharp in my favorite suit Maxim had purchased for me.  "You will
now have exclusive access to all areas previously only accessible with an
Aristocratic guide, such as the Sword Gardens.  Please keep this ID with
you at all times."
       "I will."
       "Also, as you may have heard, any other member of the Bourgeoisie
has the right to challenge your validity as a member of your class by
challenging you to a fencing duel.  If you should lose to them, your
license will be revoked, and you will be banished from the Carstvo."
       "Really?  Permanently?"
       "After five years, you will be permitted to enter yourself in
another Qualifying Match at the sword gardens.  If you win, you'd be
reinstated."
       "Wow."
       "Of course, you have the same right to challenge any member of your
new class to a fencing duel.  But if you lose, you will be the one who gets
their license revoked and who gets banished."
       "Thanks for letting me know."
       As I left her office, I couldn't shake the gnawing fear that some
devious Bourgeois person somewhere that was quite skilled in fencing would
challenge me to a duel.  It made me want to keep honing my fencing skills,
which were minimal at best.  Of course, Maxim was no help in that
department, clearly not seeing the point in seeing my fencing skills
advancing.  He repeatedly told me that he just wanted me to be happy, and
obsessing over something trivial like fencing was not the path to that
destination, especially when he knew I completely reviled the sport.
       He was a great celebrator, that had been clear, as he kept me up
late the last night throwing a little party at his house in my honor.
Unlike Syd, who would have turned any of my celebrations into a celebration
of himself, probably screwing half the guests in the process, Maxim never
left my side, never made me feel the least bit lonely, and was constantly
singing my praises.  That he did all that while still managing to breathe
all the life into the other guests was something that would seem so
difficult, yet came effortlessly to him.  The small little bash turned into
something quite more, even though it was all a last minute effort on his
part.  I could only imagine what he was capable of if he had the proper
planning.
       "Looking dapper, my friend," Maxim said, his huge smile on his face
as I showed him the picture once I had joined him in his stagecoach.
       "That's it then, Maxim.  I'm ready to go meet the Tsar."
       "You really like to move things along at a breakneck pace, don't
you?  Why not just spend a couple more days celebrating with your dear
friend Maxim before you go to him?  Once you tell him what you need to say,
you'll be leaving all of us behind for greener pastures.  You'll be
missed."
       "You know I'm on a deadline here," I said.
       "Yeah, yeah, I know.  Alright then."  He left the stagecoach and
gave our driver instructions, and then jumped back inside with me as we
started to pull away.
       "When I see Kirill, how can I be sure I'm getting the real deal this
time?"
       "I'd draw you a picture if I wasn't rubbish at it, but I think I can
help in another way."
       He opened his mouth and fire shot into the air, surprising me a
little less this time.  In front of me, the fire, looking almost like a
cloud of flame, turned into a shape.  A face appeared before me, looking at
me.  It was yellowish orange in color, the color of fire, but the shape
looked like a man's face.  The man's lips were closed, but his eyes were
angry and accusatory, his mouth forming a frown of utter disappointment.
If this was the only fatherly figure Maxim knew, it was terrifying to
conceive.
       "Yes, I've got that terrifying face seared into my memory now," I
said.  "You can stop."
       "Believe me, you don't have to tell me that twice."
       Thankfully, the face went away, as did the rest of the fire.
       "Don't ever presume to think that my father isn't anything but
dangerous."

       *****

       Late that evening, Maxim led me into the largest of Krasnyj Sneg's
train stations, a breathtaking specimen of late nineteenth century
architecture.
       "Is the destination far?" I asked as we cut through the huge crowd
of mostly Proletariat citizens as he led me through the labyrinthine, but
gorgeous, station.  "Is that why we'll have to take a train?"
       He didn't answer me as he led me through a security point into a
Bourgeoisie and Aristocracy only wing of the station, after which the
crowds thinned out significantly, and became much better dressed, I might
add.  I felt a special pride using my ID to get past the security guards.
       "Which of these platforms are we headed for?"
       "The one at the very, very end."
       We arrived there just as our train pulled in from its colorful
tunnel, a gorgeous black steam train, as large and as grand as anyone I had
ever seen in any historical movies.  The black paint was without a scuff,
and gold trim was used to cover the train in such wondrous designs.
       "So, this train will take us to the Tsar's palace?" I asked.
       "No, my friend.  The train IS the Tsar's palace.  Something only a
very small group of souls even know."
       "He lives on the train?"
       "Indeed, on a train that runs all day and all night.  This line
forms a circle, all around the Carstvo.  Since almost nobody knows its
schedule, a potential assassin would be all but eluded.  I told you the
Tsar was madly protective of himself."
       "Is this the only stop the train makes?"
       "No, but it's the only stop I know about.  It stops here every
evening at the same time.  Now, this is where we must part ways, I'm
afraid.  They'll never let you get near him if they know you're my
associate."
       "Will they let me see him if I go on my own?"
       "Tell them you deliver important information from Vasos Spiros.
That should get you an audience.  And whatever you do, don't break one of
his precious Codes, or he won't stop until he destroys you, one way or
another.  He's a cold, ruthless man, but he's ruled by logic and codes.  As
long as you play by the rules, he should have no choice but to do as you
say."
       On the other side of the platform that we were on, well dressed
workers were removing trash from the train and loading in supplies.  At the
same time, a gang of the uniformed Decency Police appeared, leading four
prisoners towards the train.
       "Oh, look what the helpful firemen have got for my father."
       "Decency Code breakers?" I asked, noticing that though the four
didn't look similar, being a mix of gender and hair color, they all had
attractiveness in common.
       "You learn fast.  This group will keep his appetite satiated for
four days."
       "What will he do to them?"
       "He'll drain them of their blood entirely, while raping them, of
course."
       "I thought your Blood wasn't allowed to commit rape?"
       "We're not, but these are lawbreakers, and as such, don't have the
normal rights others would have.  He's permitted to repeatedly use their
bodies for his pleasure, keeping them alive.  But he can sentence them to
death by any means he desires, including having his way with them."
       "They don't look as scared as they should be," I said.
       "They have no idea that this train holds the Tsar himself.  And, of
course, they'll never live to spread the Tsar's secret location."
       Four more police appeared, carrying a man who was completely wrapped
in chains.  He was clearly fighting, but they had him under control.
       "Ah, they even snagged a code-breaking vampire, that's the Tsar's
very favorite kind to kill, since he permanently gains so much strength
when he drains them.  It is a blessed day for him, indeed.  You'd better
get on before it leaves you behind."
       I started to move towards the train.  "I was hoping I'd have enough
time to give him my message and disembark before the train left."
       "That's not going to happen.  The soonest you'll be able to get off
is the next stop, which surely must be outside of the city."
       "And if I want to get off here again?"
       "You'll have to wait twenty-four hours.  But don't worry about where
you stop.  Wherever you are, give me a call, and I'll have you picked up."
He hugged me.  "Good luck.  I wish I could be there with you."
       "I just need to deliver a message to him.  It should be painless.
Don't worry about me."
       "I'll try not to."
       I rushed towards the only passenger entrance the train had on the
side of the platform I was on.  Three armed Decency Police had the door
well guarded.
       "I need to see the Tsar," I said, showing them my papers.  "I'm on
official business from Mr.  Vasos Spiros."
       One of the policemen disappeared while the others patted me down.
"Yes, his excellency is permitting you to see him," said the uniformed man.
       The guards escorted me into the train, whose interior was every bit
as remarkably beautiful as the exterior.  We went into what they called the
throne room car, whose exquisite beauty took my breath away, all black
paint and red velvet.  In the center of the car, perched on a large, ornate
throne, was a man who was clearly Maxim's father, the face he had made in
the fire coming to life in front of me, dressed impeccably, furiously
handsome.  He had closely cut light-brown hair, with a large forehead.  He
had a goatee that was just as close trimmed.  He wore a high ranking
Russian officer's military uniform of the period, with large epaulettes and
dark breeches and boots.
       The officers bowed as they entered the room, and I copied their
movements.
       He looked at me with reasonable, intelligent eyes.  "Kind gentleman,
I've been told you have an urgent message to deliver to me."
       "Your excellence, my name is Jake Groves, and I am the One," I said.
"And I come fresh from the Logan Blood to deliver you this message."
       Kirill gasped.
       "Jericho Logan wanted to kill me because of this, but I insisted
that the global vampire group itself reform and vote on my fate.
Therefore, I'm delivering this message to you officially.  I invoke the
power of the Vampire--"
       My words were cut off as Kirill descended from his throne, moving so
fast he was at a blur, and stuck his pocket handkerchief into my mouth,
gagging me.  Fighting him off physically did no good, as he and his guards
restrained me.  I had just one sentence to say to him, but I was unable to
speak.
       "Now, good sir, did you know I possessed a particular aversion to
loud voices?  As a principle, I never speak about a calm hush myself, and
you could take a lesson from my book."
       Inside my mouth, I started to chew at the handkerchief, realizing
that if I could just stall for a minute or two, I could bite through my gag
and be free to speak again.  We pulled away from the train station, and I
knew that any chance that Maxim would help me with this turn of events were
being left behind.
       "And, kind gentleman, did perhaps someone have the precious
foresight to inform you that I am a special?"  He placed his bare hands
onto the top of my skull.  "All I need to do is touch you like this, and I
can assess every piece of your most valuable organ.  Brain surgeons who
have seen me at work call me an artiste, and I couldn't agree more. And
when I see something like your beautiful, virgin head, all I can think
about is how much improved I could make you.  Like, for instance, taking
away your ability to feel pain, how would you like that?"
       While I continued to chew through the handkerchief, he pulled out a
long nail and hammer from his pockets.
       "You don't mind if I take the opportunity to improve you, do you,
kind gentleman?"
       Before I had any idea what he meant, he lined up the business end of
the nail on the skin of my skull and then hit it with the hammer, the nail
breaking not just through my skin, but also into my skull as well.
       I started to scream and fight back tears as the pain and horror hit
me all at once.  I shook my head violently, but the police just held my
head down, keeping it in place.
       As Kirill hit the nail again with the hammer, it hurt so much I
almost passed out.  It was the worst headache I had ever experienced.  All
I could do was keep concentrating on chewing through my gag.
       A couple more pounds of the hammer, and the nail moved from my skull
to my brain, making me feel less pain in my head, but replacing it with an
almost nauseating sense of wrongness and revulsion as I felt my brain cells
being sliced through.  I realized he had completed his goal of turning off
my pain, surely.
       "Ah yes, you've been in my presence for just a matter of minutes,
and already I've been able to make you so much better.  Good officers, do
take him away."
       The guards started to pull me out of the room, and I knew this was
my last chance to make my voice heard, I knew if I didn't speak now, I
might never see him again.
       Just as they were dragging me through those doors, I spat out my
chewed up gag victoriously.
       "I invoke the power of the Vampire Council!" I said.
       At least, that's what my brain told my mouth to say.  But what my
ears heard was me saying some string of incomprehensible mumbles.  What?
       I cleared my throat and tried the phrase again.  Once more, all that
came out was a bunch of mumbles.  It was the tone of my voice, but as if
someone else was talking through my body.  Surely I would never be
responsible for the noises I was making.  Had the gag in my mouth done some
sort of damage?
       "I think the kind sir wants to be let down, officers."
       The guards let me go, and Kirill came over and peered down at me as
I pressed and pulled at my mouth, trying to make it work.
       "Now, kind sir, was there something important you wanted to impart
to me?  Please tell me, I'm all ears."
       Once again, I tried to tell him the so critical phrase, but all that
came out was mumbles.
       "Ah, my gentleman, I'll take that as a no.  And you see what
wonderful improvements I've already managed to make of you?"
       I realized then that he hadn't ever used that nail to eliminate my
pain, he had used it to make me unable to speak intelligently.  It was like
I was a victim of a stroke with serious brain damage.
       "Yes, see what I mean?  The hushed tone you're using now is much
more agreeable to everyone else's continued sanity."  He was right, even
when I tried to scream, the most I could do was talk at a loud whisper.
       It was horrifying, but I would not let myself lose this way.  I
pulled a pen and a pad of paper out of my pocket, and started to write him
the message instead.
       "Oh, yes, if there's anything you need me to know, just write it
down for me."
       But instead of letters, all my pen made was scribbled gibberish.  I
tried again, and had the same result.  Even through my motor skills didn't
seem impaired; he had totally shut off all my outgoing communication
skills.
       My hands found the nail head on my skull, and I pulled and pulled,
but the thing didn't budge a bit.
       "Oh, I'd suggest not frustrating yourself to pull out one of my
nails.  Even the strongest vampire couldn't pull one of them out with their
bare hands alone.  So now, kind sir, it is my duty as Tsar to inform you
that in the Petrov's Blood territories, as long as a person hasn't broken
any laws, they are free to conduct their affairs as they see fit.  And so,
as someone whose blood smells remarkably enticing, I'm going to give you
the choice.  And if you don't want what is being offered, just like
everyone else here, all you have to do is simply say no, and it is my
requirement not to force you.  And so, I'm asking you now to let me devour
you as I wish.  Donate all of your sweet blood to me, and let me ravish
your body, in order to make me stronger, and to keep me happy.  If you
don't want to offer up your body and your blood to me, now would be your
last chance to say so."
       I shook my head vehemently, but Kirill was purposely looking away
from me.
       "No response?  You give yourself over to me, then?"
       I concentrated hard on trying to just say a simple no, but again
when I spoke, it only came out as mumbles.  It was amazingly frustrating.
       "Hmm?  Pardon?  Sounds like an affirmative moan to me, was that
correct?"
       All I could do was moan again.
       "Yes, correct.  Well, kind sir, how it pleases me that you would
offer yourself over to me.  Please don't think your sacrifice will mean
nothing.  The memory of our tryst will forever ignite my passion, and your
blood will help me defeat my enemies in battle.  Policemen, please take him
and put him in my bedroom."
       The policemen carried me, kicking and punching, out of the throne
car and into the Tsar's bedroom car, which was almost as gorgeously
decorated as the throne room.  I didn't have it in me to take in my
surrounding, however, as the policemen chained me to the left side of the
huge bed, face down, my hands attached to the headboard and my feet to the
footboard, and that was after they had the courtesy to remove my clothes
from me.  They rudely left my cell phone lying right beside me on the
floor, just out of reach of me.
       Once they left me alone again, I let tears come to my eyes as I
realized what a hopeless situation I was in.  If my new brain condition was
permanent, I'd never say or write another word.  That would mean I'd never
be able to inform any of the Blood leaders about the Vampire Council, and
Jericho would be free to kill me.
       Not that any of this mattered, since Kirill was set to eliminate me
with much more efficiency.  All I could do was to hope he would do it
quickly, with as little sadism as possible.
       I wiped my wet cheeks off on the expensive pillow case underneath me
as I heard the door open.  That prevented me from seeing who had come into
the room, but soon I felt a large someone lie down in bed beside me, and I
knew it was Kirill coming to bed.  My peripheral vision told me he had
jumped into bed as naked as I was.
       But then I heard the door shut, which mystified me, and heard,
"Fuck!"  I was pretty sure the Tsar would never, ever swear, as concerned
gentlemanliness as he was, even though underneath his good manners he was
just another stone cold killer.
       I turned my head to look.  The naked vampire in bed with me wasn't
Kirill at all, it was the Decency Code breaking vampire Maxim and I had
just witnessed being carried onto the train, a face I just barely
recognized.
       Because I saw his large equipment was facing me very prominently, I
figured he must have gotten free somehow, and knowing that he probably
would never make it out of the moving train, decided to screw with the Tsar
by using up his dinner before he could get to it himself.  What other
reason would he be naked and in bed with me?
       But when he remained a couple feet away from me in bed with no sign
of life other than moaning, I looked at the back of his head.  He had
medium length hair, meaning I hadn't seen anything unusual at first, but
upon closer examination I discovered similar nail heads like the one I had
in me, at least three of them.  Kirill must have just done that to him as
well, and I felt bad for the guy.
       I moaned as loudly as I could, and this vampire seemed to shake back
to reality, looking at me like I had awaken him from a peaceful slumber by
throwing a bucket of ice water on him.  "What the fuck is your problem?" he
asked in a Russian accent.
       I answered with a pained expression and a series of mumbles.
       "Oh, shit, the Tsar got you just like he did me," said the vampire.
"What, he screwed with your ability to communicate?"
       I nodded.
       "He made me unable to shout, among other things, but I can still
talk fine.  Name's Mtislav."
       I mumbled.
       "Didn't catch your name there, so I'll call you Mumbler."
       I rolled my eyes at the accurate but insensitive name, and I shook
my chained hands.
       "I can try," he said, reaching over and attempting to break the
chains.  "Nope, they made me weaker, somehow.  I can't even stand up
anymore without getting dizzy and falling over.  No way I can get off this
train now without being carried out."  I realized that he had never walked
in this room in his own volition; the policemen must have carried him in
and tossed him on the bed.  That would explain why I heard that door slam
as they were leaving the room.
       I mumbled and used my body to vehemently motion towards the floor
off right off the bed to my right.
       "What's over there?"  Mtislav sat up and peered over my body,
looking on the ground.  "Oh, they dropped your phone?"
       I nodded aggressively.
       "Whoa, dizzy again," said Mtislav, lying back down on the bed.
"Can't even sit up."
       I nodded again to the phone.
       "I guess I could try to crawl on top of you in order to reach that
phone."
       I nodded.
       "Alright, let's get that phone for you."
       I felt his heavy weight on my body, and flattened myself down on the
bed in order not to hinder his movement in any way.
       He moved until he was spooning me from behind, and then stopped with
a gasp.  "Whoa, fuck Mumbler, you didn't tell me you were AB negative!" I
heard him taking deep whiffs of me.
       I mumbled again and motioned towards the phone, which was just a
couple feet from his right hand at that point.
       "Alright, alright, I'll stop enjoying your scent and get your stupid
phone."
       He started to move towards the ground, but then froze again,
transfixed.
       "Oh, Mumbler, you definitely did not inform me that you were
bleeding from the head."  The way he was staring at the back of my head
made me realize I must have had some slight bleeding from my open head
wound, which was not surprising.  "Let me just lick that up before I get
your phone."
       I groaned and rolled my eyes as I felt his tongue hungrily lick at
the blood on my scalp.
       "Oh fuck, Mumbler, what the fuck is that flavor?"  I felt him lick
more aggressively at my wound, taking all the blood there was to take.
"No, no, it can't be gone already!"
       I shook my body and motioned again angrily towards the phone.
       "I'll get your phone, I just need one more taste.  The flavor of
your magic blood is already gone from my mouth, and I can't bear to be
without it.  Just one more taste."
       I felt his sharp fangs penetrate the left side of my throat.
       "Yes, yes, yes!" he got out before locking his lips to my neck wound
and sucking in my blood eagerly, the phone forgotten.
       I shook my body back and forth, trying to either shock him back to
reality or get him off of me.  That seemed to work, I managed to knock his
head off of me.
       "No, you don't!" he said.  "I have to have more!  You can't deny me
more!"
       Even though he was supposedly weaker than normal, he was able to
overpower me anyway, locking his lips around my throat as he drank me down
with no hold barred.
       "Sorry, I just can't stop myself," he managed to get out through the
blood, and I assumed he was referring to his feeding.
       My assumption proved wrong as I felt him start to enter me from
behind.  He intended to screw me to increase the pleasure I was bringing
him, and I fought back as hard as I could, but with my limbs chained down,
there just wasn't any stopping him.
       As he finally forced his way inside me with a loud hiss of pleasure,
flashbacks of other traumatic toppings I had been forced to endure,
assaulted my mind, Jericho's hated face the most prominently featured. Even
if the sexual pleasure Mtislav's bite was causing me was making me hard and
rendering his penetration more numb, the memory of all the painful
penetrations I had so recently gone through amplified the pain, and that
only exasperated the harder he plowed me.
       The door opened and shut again, and this time I knew from the
tsk-tsking that it was Kirill who had entered the room.
       "Your Tsar commands you to stop!"
       But that had no effect on him.
       Kirill came over to the bedside, looking at Mtislav with such
complete disappointment.  "Look at you.  You are not a vampire.  You're a
beast.  You've long parted ways with reason, acting on instinct alone."
Kirill put his finger on Mtislav's thigh, and moved it up his butt, back,
and neck.  "Nothing that I could offer you could break you out of your
spell."
       Kirill grabbed a long pistol from his hip holster and held it to his
own temple, thrusting the trigger against Mtislav's hand, but he never took
it.
       "You've got the opportunity here to kill me, and you won't take it,
because you cannot be pulled away from your food.  I know you are young,
but come on.  A vampire with no impulse control is a liability to me."
       He pulled the gun away and moved it to the side, and then quickly
unzipped his pants.  I felt the weight of another person climb onto me.
       "AHH!"
       "So, that's what it took to finally rouse you."
       "That hurts!  No one ever done that before!  I was supposed to get
my hole sealed up by the doctors like all the other tops, but they wouldn't
let me do it until I was twenty-five!"
       "And yet, in spite of the excruciating pain of being sodomized by a
phallus much larger than yours, you're still unable to shake the allure
that the One's blood has on you, as you're still going back for more.
You're ruled by your instincts, and yet, it was your instinct that led you
to your death tonight."  He bit into the vampire's throat and started to
feed.  "I can taste your power, and I want it ever so badly to be a
permanent part of me."
       Kirril started to plow Mtislav as he fed, and his motions were
actually hurting me as well, as he was forcing Mtislav up and down in the
process.  Soon, I could feel Mtislav slowing down.
       "You see how much more efficient I am?  I'm already taking your
life, long before you took the life of tomorrow's treat.  If it's any
consolation, I will do so much more with your power than you ever would."
       With that, Kirill entered his orgasm, which was powerful and large,
yet his voice never was raised above his typical whisper.
       Finally Mtislav took one last breath and his body went limp, his
lips falling off my neck and his dick starting to soften.  Kirill still
took his time, sucking up every last drop of blood his body held before
letting go.
       "Ah, good sir, I'm sorry you had to endure the company of such a
vulgar, pointless personality.  He won't be bothering anyone again, you can
take pleasure in that.  And see?  I can quickly remedy what he took from
you."
       Kirill pushed Mtislav out of his bed and licked my neck wound shut.
       "My, you DO taste wondrous, don't you?"
       I worried about him not being able to control himself, but he only
licked my wound.
       "Your sacrifice to me will not go unfulfilled, even if I've already
indulged tonight.  This time tomorrow, I'll take everything you have from
you.  That's my promise to you, good sir."
       He fell asleep beside me, completely dressed, never even brushing
against me.  People came in and carried out the dead carcass from the
floor.  I sat up saying prayers in my head to God, and trying to think of a
way out of my predicament.  When nothing came, I found myself drifting to
sleep.


       FEBRUARY 23rd


       Since I woke up alone, it wasn't until late the next evening that I
saw Kirill again, which certainly was no concern to me.  He came in,
impeccably dressed as always, and smiled when he saw me chained to his bed.
       He sat next to me on the mattress and used his hand to rub my naked
back.  "Dear Mr. Groves, I've just spent a number of hours assessing the
four inmates who have been sentenced to death for Code breaking.  What a
motley lot they are.  One of them is guilty of prostitution, caught in an
alley giving pleasure with her hand to a Bourgeoisie man in an alley, whom
we are currently in pursuit of.  One of the two men made an illegal bet on
a boxing match, and who cares if it was just pocket change?  Illegal
gambling is illegal gambling.  The other man was walking around the streets
with his fly down.  I don't care if it was accidental or not, people's
innocence were nearly taken when he almost flashed them.  The last one had
the gall to use some banned language against my Decency Police after they
burned her mother alive on the street for Code breaking.  All of these
tramps proved much improved after I made some alterations to their minds
today, but honestly, I can't stand to be around Code breakers until I get
to formally and personally execute them.
       "But you, you are an entirely different species from that rogue
trash in my jail car, aren't you?  And it's not your inspirational blood
I'm speaking of.  You never broke a single of the sacred Codes, did you?"
he rubbed his finger along my butt.  "All I have to do is take one look at
you, one listen to your polite words, and I knew: you either come from very
fine breeding, or you've been raised as a true gentleman."
       I nodded my head vehemently, hoping I could somehow make my good
manners keep me alive.
       "Yes, I knew it was true.  And that's why, in spite of getting to
redesign the minds of my prisoners, always a favorite activity of mine, I
found myself drawn to you all day.  Because it's such a rare pleasure that
I have a physical interaction with such an upstanding gentleman such as
yourself."  His fingers moved to rub me right on my hole, which caused him
to smile.  "You see?  I can even touch you completely like this without
knowing I'm getting filth all over me, like I feel every time I touch the
Code breakers.  And I think you know I'm not talking about dirt or germs,
which have never been a fear of mine.  No, I speak of the kind of filth of
the mind these people have, that's why I will only touch them at the bare
minimum necessary.  But here I am, putting my ungloved hands all over your
body, because you never once broke any code."
       I shook my head, hoping it would make him unchain me.
       "And that's exactly why I'm leaving those filthy, uncouth prisoners
alone and coming to give you your life its proper send off, because I can't
take another night with you sleeping here, tempting me."
       I shook my head again.
       "Oh, come on.  As a law abiding gentleman, surely you understand
that having me sever your beautiful life-cord is far more humane than
leaving you in painful captivity."
       I shook my head again.
       "Oh, come on, Mr. Groves.  Surely you didn't think that I would let
you ever legally bind me to a provision which requires I leave my precious
home and go sit next to one of the vermin Logan Blood cowboys, who can't
pass a minute without urinating all over my gentlemen Codes.  And you must
know I won't just let you go free, leaving such an unknown variable to me
out in the world."
       I shook my head again as he continued to rub me, more and more
sexually.
       "And so, kind Mr. Groves, because I respect you, I'll give you a
choice I never give to law breakers.  Before the night is through, I'm
going to penetrate you in three varieties.  With my fangs, with a certain
private part of mine, and with my nails into your head, making you even
grander to me before you pass on.  I'm letting you pick the order of those
penetrations."
       I sighed and rolled my eyes, but ended up nodding towards his mouth,
figuring the numbness his bite would give me would help me get through the
other, more traumatic intrusions.
       "Ah, you want me to taste you first.  Very logical indeed.  Here it
comes, Mr. Groves."
       "You keep those fangs away from him, you cruel bastard!  And any of
your other impaling parts as well!"
       "Maxim, you have no right to intrude!  Get off my train!"
       Maxim placed himself between me and his father, fury on his face.
"You have no right to harm this man!"
       "On whose authority?"
       "Vasos, get in here!" Maxim yelled.
       A very conflicted looking Vasos came through the door, looked me
over quickly. "He's right, my liege, unless this one has broken any Codes."
       "He hasn't," Maxim said.  "I can attest to that.  He's been with me
the whole time, and he's nothing but a gentleman."
       I nodded in agreement, trying to speak but just letting out mumbles.
       "Mr. Groves may not have broken our laws," said Kirill, "but he has
most graciously volunteered to donate his blood to increasing my power
reserves."
       I shook my head.
       "Well, it looks like he's retracting that his previous offer, isn't
that right, Jake?"
       I nodded.
       "And now he wants to leave with me."
       I nodded again.
       "You unlock these chains right now, or I'll be forced to melt their
bindings off."
       Kirill looked at his son with that exact disappointment as was in
the fire sculpture he had made me before, but then he fished out his keys
and unlocked me.  I quickly put my clothes back on and made sure I had my
cell phone retrieved.  Maxim went to pick me up, but I told him that I
didn't need to be carried.  Or, at least, I mumbled something and he got
the idea.  Maxim led me out of the train, his body language extremely
defensive of me around every policeman we passed.
       We were stopped in the same train station as before, I realized.  I
guess I hadn't noticed that the train had been stopped for so long, surely
due to Maxim's commands to the conductor.  As soon as we left the train, it
finally started to pull away.
       Vasos looked at me.  "That's it," he said.  "That's the last time I
help you.  Good day to both of you."  He marched off defiantly on his own.
       I showed Maxim the nail head on the back of my skull.
       "I see Kirill's habits never die.  If I had the strength, I would
have ripped his head clean off for hurting you.  It sounds like he's made
you unable to verbalize?"
       I mumbled an agreement as I led Maxim out of the station.
       "I can help with that, but we'll have to go to my house first.  If I
had only been born a Logan Blood vampire, I might be able to pull that out
with my steel grip.  As it is, I need a pair of pliers.  So that gives me
some time to profess my enamored feelings for you when you'll be fully
unable to rebuff me."
       I chuckled, and it made me happy that I could actually chuckle.
       We got into his stagecoach, and as we started whisking down the
streets, Maxim, who was sitting on the bench to my right, made me face
ninety-degrees to the left, away from him, as he straddled me from behind,
rubbing his gentle finger against my wound.
       "Try not to bump this on anything.  I don't want to risk anymore
injury.  I know that the road is bumpy, but here, I'll hold you tightly and
try to mitigate the road wear."
       He did exactly that, holding me and cushioning the jostling of the
ride.
       "I'm guessing he did that in order to keep you from delivering to
him your message about the Vampire Council?"
       I nodded.
       "I didn't think he'd stoop so low, but the truth is, he knows you
have to personally say the whole phrase in order to have it be legally
binding.  And now, do you get the sense that he'll ever let you close
enough to finish the message?  I mean, without you being forcibly mute?"
       I shook my head.  No, he'd know I'd try to deliver the message to
him, and he'd be ready for me, of course.  Continuing this as I had been
doing before would be purposeless.
       "As long as I've known him, he's been a terribly evil man.  Believe
it or not, he believes wholeheartedly in the sanctity of his Decency Codes.
While he is technically immune from those rules, but he still follows every
single one of them himself.  He is so obsessed with his own manners and
conduct, he won't even remove his clothes unless he is locked alone in the
bathroom.  In fact, the last person to see his penis and survive the
experience has been my mother, who is long dead.  He'll never use a urinal
in public bathroom for fear someone will see him with his fly down, and he
only pulls his penis out of his fly at all because he has to when he feeds
off his code breaking prisoners, but only if he's alone with them and he
always kills them anyway."
       Soon enough, we were alone in my bedroom after Maxim grabbed a
hammer and pliers.  It wasn't exactly comforting to see those tools, but I
wanted the nail to be gone more than anything.
       Maxim sat down on my bed with his feet on the ground.  "I need you
to put your head in my lap and keep it completely still while I do this."
       I laid down on the bed and stuck my face down into his lap, nestling
my nose against his crotch.  Under different circumstances, this might have
been a very provocative position, and I hoped he would have the tact to
know I didn't want to be joked with right now.  Luckily, he didn't say
anything about it.
       He started to loosen the nail with the hammer.  "No matter how much
this hurts, I need you to not to move, that's the key thing.  Feel free to
squeeze me with your arms as much as you need to during the pain.  And yes,
I've done this before, don't worry.  After their particularly brutal
fights, my mother would come back like this, and my sister and I learned
how to repair her.  But I had been sworn that he had long given up these
nails, or I would have never let you go."
       When he actually started to pull out the nail, first with the hammer
and then with the pliers, I shouted in pain and tears stung my eyes, and I
clutched onto his thighs for dear life as I buried my face into his crotch.
       "Good, got the nail out, the painful part is over.  Well, at least
for you."
       Above me, I heard his cutting into his wrist with his fangs, and
then I felt the tingle of his blood pouring into my head wound, healing the
brain damage quickly, and then taking the longest and the most of his blood
to heal my skull itself.  Only when even my skin showed no sign of my
intrusion did he stop.
       "Thank you, thank you," I said to him, so happy I could speak again.
"I owe everything to you."
       He laughed.  "As long as you're saying things like that, you're
making the pain of my wrist wound totally worth it.  Are you feeling
better?"
       "Totally."
       "Well, you must be starving, should we get our new kitchen talent to
whip you up some furiously mediocre fare?"
       "The policemen kept me well watered and fed, as well as washed.  All
I want to do now is rest."
       He started towards the door.  "Well, of course."
       "But Maxim?"
       "Yes?"
       "I'd love it if you'd hold me tonight, would you mind?  At least
until I fall asleep?"
       "Should I strip us naked, then?" he asked excitedly.
       "No, I don't want you to think this is something it isn't.  I just
want to be comforted tonight, with both of us fully clothed."
       "Alright, I can do that."
       As soon as we were under my covers with Maxim holding me in his
strong arms, I let myself cry not just from the trauma of the nail, but
more so for the four lawbreakers I had left behind, that were sure to be
killed mercilessly by Kirill, as well as countless others.  The prayers I
said to them in my mind just didn't seem enough.
       As sleep took me, a resolution took over me.  The only way the
Petrov Blood would ever be saved is if Kirill were to die.
       And I swore to myself that no matter how difficult, I would
personally see his death done.  And I already had an idea about just how
I'd go about making that come true.
       Dr. Günter Herzog would be my secret weapon.


       FEBRUARY 24th


       "I am told you have an urgent condition, Mr. Groves?" asked
Dr. Herzog as he came into the exam room and shut the door, leaving us
alone.  He was wearing the same tan lab coat and leather protective suit
that he was the last time I had been here, telling me he had just been
interrupted from his engineering work.
       "Yes, please have a look, Doctor."
       I looked at the time.  Two hours before Tsar Kirill's train would
pull into the train station.  That gave me just under an hour to get
Günter's semen inside me, so I could make it into the train station to
board.  And then I had to hope that Kirill would choose to sleep with me
that night instead of holding me for twenty-four hours like he did the last
time.  I still hadn't worked that part out yet, but there was no point
jumping ahead of myself.  Not when my first task was to sleep with
Günter.
       At first, I had thought of just telling Günter my plan and asking
him to sleep with me in order to help me kill the Tsar.  I was reminded of
his complete and blind loyalty he had for the Tsar ever since the man saved
him from being held captive by the Chinese Blood.  Surely I'd never
convince him to become an accomplice to an assassination, and even
discussing it with him could end my efforts real fast and possibly get me
killed.
       No, I had to seduce the man, which was completely against my nature.
I knew I had to think like Donnie the stable boy would have, and my goal
was to use this moment we had alone to try and make him so overcome with
desire for me that he had no choice but to sleep with me.
       "I don't smell any open wounds on you, Mr. Groves.  What seems to be
the issue?"
       "I think I'm sick, Doctor."
       "Sick?  That can't be right.  You're immune to sickness, remember?"
       "That's why these new symptoms I'm having concern me a great deal.
I'm starting to believe that I'm not the One at all."
       "Preposterous," he said.  "You survived my lethal bacteria.
Furthermore, I studied the bacteria that came out of you, and you know what
I discovered?  There's something inside your digestive tract that, after
exposure to my semen, kills the bacteria and stops the corrosive qualities
as well, making it just normal semen.  It takes a couple hours for whatever
chemicals you have inside you to kick in, as the sample was still dangerous
the first couple hours after extraction.  But then, it turned harmless.  No
human would ever have this remarkable chemistry.  There's simply no other
logical explanation."
       "But how do you explain my symptoms, then?"
       "What symptoms?"
       "I feel feverish.  Feel my forehead."
       He put his cold hand to my head.  "You feel perfectly normal to me.
No fever."
       "Well, I was feverish earlier.  And that's just the tip of the
iceberg.  I've been listening to my heartbeat, and it seems highly
irregular.  Please have a listen."
       He went over and grabbed his stethoscope and put it in his ears.
       "Here, let me take my shirt off so it's easier for you to hear."
       "No need, Mr. Groves, I'm perfectly used to listening through
clothing."  He placed the stethoscope on my chest and listened for a while.
"Nothing unusual about your heartbeat," he said.  "Perhaps a little faster
than normal, but that's nothing to worry about.  I deem you healthy."
       I was so annoyed that he hadn't needed me to take off my shirt for
that, and knew I had to come up with some other excuse quickly.  "Um, can
you inspect my nipples?"
       "Whatever for, Mr. Groves?"
       "Because I'm concerned they might be swollen as a symptom of my
mystery illness."
       "Alright, please remove your shirt."
       I happily pulled my shirt off, leaving me bare-chested, and hoped
the slight nudity would help get him going.  He peered at my nipples.  "I
don't see anything unusual about them."
       "You can't just look at them, Doctor.  You have to feel them to see
what I mean."
       He put his cold hands on my nipples and started to rub them.  "I
don't feel anything."
       "See how oddly firm and hard they are?  That's not normal."
       "They're just erect, Mr. Groves.  Probably due to the cold.  Mine
behave in exactly the same way.  It's nothing to be concerned about."
       "I don't believe you," I said.  "Let me see your nipples just to
make sure."
       "Alright, Mr. Groves, if you really must."
       "I must."
       He started to unzip his labcoat, and pulled it down to his waist,
leaving me with my very first view of his pale, brawny upper body, his
muscles tight and bulging, and very little body hair on him.  He looked
great.  So great, I caught myself staring at his muscles.
       "See?  Your nipples look normal."
       "That's because they're not erect at the moment, but all someone
would have to do is rub them a little, and that would change."
       "I'll see if that's true."  I reached both my hands up and started
to rub both his nipples at the same time.  I also got away with massaging
his meaty pecs with my hands, hoping he'd like that.  I certainly did.
       "You see now?"  His nipples had gone hard and small as I worked him
over.
       "Yes, I suppose so."
       "Alright then, Mr. Groves, you can be on your way."  He started to
pull up his labcoat.
       "Wait!" I said, grabbing his hands to stop him from covering himself
up.  "There's more."
       "Yes?  What else?"
       "Well, I've noticed these marks on my legs, like rashes.  I think I
have ringworm or something."
       "If you do have rashes, I'm sure it's just skin irritation.  You're
immune to fungal infections."
       "Could you just take a look, please?  I'm going to remove my pants."
       "Alright."
       I took off my pants, and started to pull down my underwear.
       "Please leave those intact, Mr. Groves.  Me inspecting your legs
would be sufficient."
       Um, alright," I said, disappointed.
       I leaned back on the exam table and put my ankles in his hands.  He
pulled my legs around, looking at every bare inch.  I hoped it was exciting
him.  "I don't see any rashes here, anywhere."
       "Well, they must have cleared up then."
       I grabbed onto his muscled arms and kissed him on the lip, hoping to
melt him with passion.
       He pulled away coldly from me.  "What was that?" he asked.
       "I was just, um, trying to make you taste the weird metallic flavor
that's been in my mouth, surely the result of some awful disease."
       "Your saliva tastes perfectly normal."
       "Are you sure?  Do you want to taste it again just in case?"
       "No, quite not.  I'm positive.  Will that be all, Mr, Groves?"
       "No, actually.  I'm also concerned that I might have contracted an
STD.  There's something on my penis that I think you should look at."
       "Really?  Alright then, you'll have to remove your underwear."
       I took off my underwear and that left me lying naked on the exam
table.
       He picked up my penis is his hand as he peered down carefully
through his glasses.  "I don't see any sign of warts or sores, Mr. Groves.
You certainly don't have any genital lice, and there's not even a rash.
I'd say you're fine."
       "But look at the urethra opening."
       "Yes?"
       "It's much too dark and inflamed than usual."
       "It seems normal to me."
       "But it's so large!  I've never seen any other penis with an opening
as large as that."
       "Then you haven't seen very many penises at all, I'm afraid.  Your
opening is quite average sized.  Even my own is larger."
       "Can I see yours just to be sure, Doctor?"
       "No, absolutely not!"
       "Why not?"
       "Because I'm not the patient here."
       "But I've already seen it before anyway, and it's what I need to
convince me that I'm not abnormal.  Please, Doctor?  I won't leave until I
see it."
       "Oh, alright."  He pulled his lab coat off his lower half too,
leaving him naked except for his boots and glasses.  His lower half was
just as muscled as his upper half, with very little hair on him."Are you
satisfied now?"
       "Let me have a look."  I grabbed his huge, flaccid member in my
hands and brought it close to my face.
       "It's larger.  See?"
       "Perhaps.  But you know, I wasn't soft when I noticed this symptom.
I was erect.  Let me show you what it looks like then, just to be sure."
       "Is that really necessary, Mr. Groves?"
       "Yes!"
       I started to rub my dick; I was interested how little I was already
responding to this.  I suppose trying to seduce someone didn't necessarily
imply that I was being seduced in the process.  The appalling awkwardness
of the situation coupled with the fact that the two of us had zero
chemistry made it hard for me to get myself going on command.  I had to
focus on the visual splendor of having such a hot, hunky man naked and
inches away from me in order to get myself going.
       "See, Doctor?" I asked, showing him the tip of my penis when I was
done.  "The hole is larger than yours now, so swollen."
       "Well, of course it is, an erection has that side effect on all
men."
       "Would the same thing happen to you if you were erect?"
       "Yes, of course it would."
       "I'm not sure if I believe you.  Can I get you erect just to see if
you're right?"
       "I don't see why that's necessary."
       "I've already seen you hard once before.  What's the difference
now?"
       "Oh, all right, let me try to get my injection."
       It took him a couple minutes to find the medicine and inject it into
his penis again, and I jerked him to life.
        "Well, that seems to have done the trick.  Now Mr. Groves, let's
settle this once and for all.  See how my urethra opening is bigger now
that I'm erect?"
       "I have to see them side by side."  I took both of our dicks in my
hands and lined them up, looking carefully at the tip of my penis and his
much larger, circumcised one.  "I guess you're right."
       "Of course I'm right.  And I assume you have no other symptoms to
report?"
       "Actually, I've been having an odd discharge during sexual activity.
It's never happened before, and I'm very worried.  Can I show you?"
       "Alright."
       He watched me as I jerked my dick until a tiny spot of precum came
out.  "There, see what I mean?"
       He sighed.  "That's pre-ejaculate, Mr. Groves.  Nothing to worry
about."
       "I've never heard of that.  Are you lying to me?"
       "No.  It's quite common.  I myself produce the substance during
sexual activity."
       "Prove it!  Let me see it!"  I grabbed his large tool in my hands
and fiercely started to stroke it.
       "Well, alright."
       After a bit, I was able to squeeze out a generous ooze.  "Ah, you
were right!  Is this enough to kill someone?"
       "No, it's not, don't worry."  If anything, I was disappointed.
"Now, why don't you get dressed again?"
       "Wait, there's still one more symptom I wanted you to investigate."
       "What's that?"
       "An abnormally swollen prostate."
       "I'll need to insert a finger into you to check that."
       "That's fine."
       "Let me put on a glove."
       "No need," I said.  "I mean, as long as you trust I'm the One and
can't infect you in any way, why bother?"
       "Well, alright."
       He poured some cold lube all over his index and ring fingers.
       "This is going to be cold, Mr. Groves."
       He stuck both fingers inside me, trying to move towards my prostate.
At the same time, I wrapped my ankles around his naked body, pulling his
huge member against my own.  As he touched my prostate, I couldn't help but
feel a rush of pleasure and my dick pulsed in response.
       "Nope, not the least bit swollen, Mr. Groves."
       I expected to have him thoroughly seduced, but when he started to
pull out of me again, I knew I had misjudged him.
       "Well, Mr. Groves, if that's all, let's call it the end of the
examination.  I'm more thoroughly convinced you are the One than ever."
       "Wait!"
       "What is it?"
       "Well, as long as you have me lubed up, would you please, please,
please have intercourse with me again?"
       "Was that some poor attempt at humor, Mr. Groves?"
       "No, I'm serious."
       "No, I refuse."
       "Pleeeaase Doctor?  I'm begging you here."
       "Why are you so maddeningly in need of being topped?"
       "Because I am an insatiable bottom, and I need to be topped
fiercely, as often as I possibly can, and no one else here is willing to
provide that service."
       "What you're suggesting would absolutely cross the line away from a
Doctor, patient relationship.  No, the answer is no."
       I tried to think of some other reasonable excuse to keep the
examination going, but nothing came.  "Alright, Doctor."
       He washed his hands and put his lab coat back on, and I was forced
to throw in the towel and go home defeated.
       "I'm sorry for bugging you like this," I said, trying to scrape
together some shred of dignity I had left.  "You know what it is?  I've
always been an anal germ-aphobe , and now that all of the sudden I can't
get sick, I'm having a hard time adjusting to it."
       "You've got all the symptoms of a hypochondriac, Mr. Groves."
       I sighed, knowing I really wasn't a hypochondriac.  Hypochondriacs
love coming into hospitals and getting treated for imaginary illnesses.  I
hated hospitals, as they usually led to someone trying to poke me and take
my blood.  "Hmm," I said, not really agreeing or disagreeing to his
assessment.
       "For your own good, I'm telling my hospital staff not to admit you
again unless you display clear and obvious signs of injury that need
treatment."
       I realized that the only way I would get another hospital session
with Dr. Herzog in order to try and seduce him again would be if I
committed self-injury.  I knew that wouldn't be happening.  "Well, what if
I just want to come and see you?"
       He eyed me suspiciously.  "For what?"
       "You know, just to chit chat."
       "I do NOT chit chat.  In spite of my previous psychiatric diagnosis,
I am not a counselor."
       "Ah, okay."
       "Take care, Mr. Groves," he said as he walked coldly towards the
door.
       "Wait, Doctor!" I yelled, worried that if I let him leave, I would
never see him again.
       "Yes?"
       "There's something else I need your help with."
       "Please do not tell me you believe you have another ailment."
       "No, it's not medical.  The truth is, I need you to train me to be a
better fencer."
       "I'm not a fencing instructor, Mr. Groves."
       "But you do know how to fence, I assume?"
       "Well, of course, quite well."
       "Then I need you to train me.  You see, when I got my bourgeoisie
license, I only won my fencing match as luck, really.  I've been told that
all someone has to do to exclude me is to challenge me to a fencing match,
and I just know that with my bad luck, it will happen to me.  I need
someone to guide me.  Give me regular lessons until I can really hold my
own.  Maxim refuses to help me, and you're my only other friend here."
       "I am NOT your friend, Mr. Groves.  I do not have friends."
       "Well, what sort of relationships do you have?"
       "Patients, colleagues, and obligatory acquaintances."
       "What about mentees?"
       "Certainly not.  I make a point to never even mentor the residents
here."
       "Well then, I guess you should label me as a cross between a patient
and an obligatory acquaintance."
       "Teaching you to fence would take daily lessons.  I'm not committing
myself to any such activity."
       "Wait a second, think of it this way.  You took the Hippocratic
Oath, correct?"
       "Indeed."
       "As your patient, I'm constantly in danger here of being killed or
maimed by a rogue fencer.  Or even falling off a fencing platform in a
required duel and breaking an arm or my neck because I wasn't trained to
defend myself.  You're the only one who can help me stay healthy.  How can
you possibly refuse me and let your patent end up potentially dead?"
       "Alright, fine, I agree train you to fence."
       "Great Doctor, should we go to your place and start tonight?"
       "Absolutely not."
       "How about we start tomorrow then?"
       "Fine, but I'm only available in the evenings."
       "I'll meet you tomorrow evening at your place."
       "'My place' isn't what you expect.  I live in my laboratory, above
my factory.  That's where we'll have to have our lessons, I'm certainly not
wasting my time travelling to you."
       "Sounds good.  Should I bring dinner tomorrow?"
       "If you like.  See you tomorrow, then."

       *****

       "Jake, my friend, wake up, I have something to ask you."
       I was so dead asleep that I had to force my eyes open.  There was
Maxim's head, right in front of mine, as he was kneeling in the same
position I said my prayers with his elbows and upper body right next to me
on the bed.  I hadn't even heard him come in.
       "Yes?"
       "Can I sleep with you tonight?  I've tried, but I just can't sleep
in my own room."
       "What are you, a five year old nightmare escapee now?" I laughed.
"Did you try reading before bed?"
       "I've tried everything.  I even emptied the pipes out before bed, so
I'd say that strategy puts me well above the five year old age level you're
accusing me of.  But I still can't sleep.  And I'd slept so much better
ever since I was sleeping with you."
       "You slept with me twice because I was injured, and once because you
were depressed about Michael."
       "I'm still depressed about Michael plenty, if that helps you make up
your mind."
       "Alright, fine, get in, but this cannot become a habit."
       "Thank you!  You're my sweet, American saint!"
       I scooted over to the other side of the bed and turned away from him
as he got back in bed, falling asleep.
       I hadn't intended for Maxim to touch me as we slept, as there was
plenty of room in the bed for both of us.  But the next time I woke up that
night, I found myself being spooned from behind, and worse, I realized he
was completely naked.  He must have jumped into bed that way, but I hadn't
seen his lower half.  I thought of pushing away from him, but I was wrapped
up in his muscular arms, and the only way to get away would be to wake him
up.  He was sleeping soundly.
       Given that I had my briefs on and I could feel no poking from him
behind me, I just let sleep take me again.