Date: Wed, 26 Oct 2011 13:59:09 -0400
From: RANDY WIGGINS <rwig@hotmail.com>
Subject: HOMONY - CHAPTER 2 - ADULT FRIENDS or SF/FANTASY

The following is part of a novel in progress.  There is some sex but not
highly explicit.  It is a fantasy set in the not so distant/possible
future.  Please let me know what you think. E-mail me at: rwig@hotmail.com

Legal stuff: The story is mine so don't steal it or I'll be pissed.

If you have a few extra bucks be sure and donate to Nifty to keep the
archive a free site.  Thanks

RClayton
****
HOMONY

TWO

   Jerrison woke again to find heath beside him sleeping soundly.  He
couldn't believe what he had done with the younger man.  Heath had awakened
feelings in him he hadn't had in years.  After exchanging oral sex they had
talked for hours then he had spread heath's legs and fucked for him for
what felt like hours.  He hadn't had marathon sex like that since Chad had
been alive.  Lord knows Gloria had never inspired that kind of passion and
neither had the other women he had been with in the passing years.  No
woman had ever awakened the real lover in him, not the way another man
could.
   The mystery of what led to his being here was still at the forefront of
his mind and it was a mystery he wanted solved.  He knew he had not been
with another man between Chad and Heath so he couldn't have been caught and
arrested for homosexual acts.  This had to be something Gloria had arranged
to get rid of him.  They were having problems, sure, but had they become so
severe that she would set him up?  Why hadn't she just had him murdered or
divorced him if she wanted to be rid of him?
   "You okay," Heath asked.
   "Yeah, go back to sleep."  Jerrison covered his eyes with his arm.  He
wouldn't miss his wife, he was glad to be away from the bitch, but his
kids, that was another story.  He loved Greg and Cynthia with all of his
heart.  The only reason he had fought Gloria about private school was that
he didn't want them to be a couple of spoiled brats like her and her
sisters and brother.  They were private school kids and they were all awful
people.  He wanted his kids to grow up normal and happy, with a work ethic
and a sense of self that didn't include gimme, gimme, gimme, and I'm more
important because I have this and you don't.
   "What are you thinking about?"  Heath rolled over and placed a hand on
Jerrison's chest.
   "My kids."
   "Oh, yeah.  I guess you miss them a lot."
   "I do.  I just really realized I'll never see them again."
   "That isn't actually true."
   Jerrison raised up on one elbow.  "What do you mean?"
   "Well, there are a few guys here with kids and they get visitation a few
times a year.  There is this island about ten miles away where they take
you to spend a week with your kids a few times a year.  It's really
expensive but there are guys that do it."
   "Thank you!"  Jerrison moved his face over to Heath's and kissed him on
the mouth.  He moved his tongue into the other man's mouth and they began
another session of love making that lasted for the better part of the next
three hours.

   "This is the office you need to go to for information.  I don't know if
they will give you much without representation though."  Heath said.  He
stood a few paces away from Jerrison with his hands buried deep in his
pants pockets.  "I guess we should have went to the bank first and then
found you a representative to handle this."
   "I was a lawyer before I was sent here, granted, not a practicing one.
It was just a part of my job."
   "Well, they may help then."  Heath said.  "Listen, I gotta get to work.
I skipped yesterday completely and Frank's gonna be pissed about that as
is."
   "Go ahead.  I have a key to get back in the apartment."  Jerrison patted
his pocket where the freshly copied key rested against his thigh.
   "Okay.  You got the cash I gave you for lunch?"
   "Yeah, I'm good, thanks." Jerrison spoke without looking at his new
friend.  His eyes were glued to the double glass doors of the official
looking building before him.
   "Okay then," Heath said with some reluctance.  He moved close enough to
give Jerrison a quick kiss on the check then walked off down the street at
a quick pace.  He looked back as Jerrison opened the left hand door and
entered the building.
   Jerrison moved down the short hall to a large open room where men worked
in cubicles at which other men lined up awaiting their turn to be waited
on.  He didn't know which line to wait in so he chose the shortest and
stood there to wait.
   Time passed slowly as men of various ages and body types moved forward
through the lines to the desks where they spoke to other men for anywhere
from five minutes to half an hour at a stretch.  He watched as two were
pulled away by security and hauled from the room screaming.  He took a deep
breath and continued to wait.  It felt like his last visit to the DMV back
in Los Angeles.
   "What can I do for you," The man behind the desk said.  He was roughly
the same age as Jerrison but with more rough years on him and graying side
burns.
   "I just got here day before yesterday and well, I don't know why."
   "You don't know why you are at this office?"
   "No in Homony.  I'm a married man with two kids, a solid job and a very
strong financial backing.  I had no criminal record for anything heavier
than a speeding ticket ten years ago; yet I woke up here day before
yesterday in a stranger's apartment without a clue how I got to this place
or why."
   "Oh, my.  Well, do you have a representative?"
   "I have a law degree of my own, what do I need with a representative?"
   "If you aren't formally versed in the laws and amendments involved with
the homosexuality bans it can be difficult to understand the, um... nuances
of certain situations."  The man said.
   "I'm fairly intelligent so let's give it a shot."  Jerrison said.
   "Well, alright then."  The man typed on a keyboard.  "Full name please
and social security number."
   "Jerrison Marshall Walker, SS number 384-27-1121."  Jerrison said.
   The man typed away.  "Interesting, Mr. Walker, according to my computer,
you aren't here."
   "I'm not here?  Where am I?"
   "Well, you were reported missing, suspected dead by Gloria walker on 1
September 2012.  You were declared dead on 23 September 2013.  Gloria
Walker married Anton Phillips on 27 March 2014."
   "That is obviously not right because I'm sitting right in front of you."
Jerrison said.
   "Well, you say you are Jerrison Walker but can you prove it?"
   "Why would I come in here and claim to be someone who was supposedly
dead?"
   "I wouldn't know.  Maybe you want a way back to the states."  The man
said.  "It wouldn't be the first time someone tried to run a scheme to get
back home.  This place isn't for everyone, Hell, I wanted out for the first
two years myself."
   "I'm not that sure I want out.  I just want to know how I ended up here.
Is there any way to find out?"
   "Well, we can do a medical scan and get an ID that way.  Everyone gets a
tag when they get here to help with keeping up with who is here and what
not.  That will tell us who you are registered as."
   "What do I have to do to get that done?"
   "Do you have an account at the bank?"
   "I don't know.  I haven't been yet."
   "Well, it's easy enough to check."  He typed on the keyboard for several
minutes then picked up a phone receiver and spoke into it for several
moments.  "There is no account under Jerrison Walker.  There are three new
account that haven't been accessed yet though.  One of those is probably
yours.  Someone had to set you up or you wouldn't be here.  As I'm sure you
know you don't get to be here for free."
   "So I've been told."
   "One moment," the man picked up the receiver again and spoke into it for
less than a minute.  "There a nurse on her way from medical branch to
escort you over for a tag reading.  After that you'll be brought back here
and we'll go from there."
   "Thank you for your time.  I'm sorry I don't know your name."
   "Reginald."  The man said.  He smiled slightly.  Call me Regi."
   "Thanks, Regi."  Jerrison said.
   "That's my job."

   Fifteen minutes later a large man with muscles that looked hard as steel
walked up to the chair where Jerrison had been asked to wait.  He wore a
white pants suit.  "You're waiting to go to medical for a tag reading?"
   "Yes, sir," Jerrison replied.
   "Follow me."  The man replied.  His voice was deep, hard and very
masculine.  The very idea that a man like this could be gay was confusing
to Jerrison.  He had met very butch gay guys before but not like this.
This was a freakin' Hulk clone without the green skin.
   "Can I ask you something?"
   "Sure."  The man kept walking.
   "Do you just work here or are you gay too?"
   "Yeah, I'm gay too."  The man replied.  "There are no straights on the
island at all.  I've been here for four years.  My life partner is here
too.  No we didn't get arrested we came here because we wanted to which is
why we work for the government in good jobs."
   "Oh, okay."
   The rest of the walk was spent in silence and took the better part of
twenty minutes through various underground hall ways and cramped corridors.
   "Have a seat and someone will be with you shortly."  The huge man closed
the door and Jerrison took a seat in a room that was about ten foot by ten
foot square.  It was set up like a typical doctor's examining room.
   Five minutes later the door opened and another man entered.  He wore a
doctor's lab coat and was obviously on the wrong side of fifty to be on the
island.  "Mr. Walker, or so you claim."
   "I don't claim, I am.  Someone is screwing with me in a major way here
and I've got to figure out what's going on."
   "So we shall see.  Take off your shirt, please."
   Jerrison pulled the Polo style shirt over his head and tossed it on the
chair.  He stood in the cool room with his arms hanging at his sides.
   "Nice definition to the chest.  You work out much?"
   "I did, yes.  I went to the gym three times a week a ran two miles every
morning before work."
   "That's good.  Health is very important around here.  I don't see many
flabby out of shape bodies on Homony.  Not that there aren't any though."
The man placed a stethoscope against his chest and asked him to breath.
"Were you given an exam when you arrived?"
   "I don't remember.  I honestly don't recall anything between going to
bed with my wife On Monday night after an argument about where my kids were
going to school next term and waking up on Wednesday in a strange bed in an
apartment on this island."
   "Married with kids even," the doctor said with a nod.
   "Fifteen years.  The kids are nine and eleven."
   "Regi tells me you were supposedly reported missing, presumed dead, then
declared dead less than a year later.  That is highly unusual.  It normally
takes seven years for someone to be declared dead."
   "I know that.  I was a lawyer."
   "Mr. Walker, if that is who you are, and I'm actually beginning to
believe you are; why would someone do this to you?  Did you have enemies?"
   "Other than my wife, no."  Jerrison said.
   "Not a happy marriage?"
   "Not the last few years.  We had developed a number of problems that
were always there but covered over for many years and not picked at.  You
might say the scabs were coming off at a rapid rate."
   "I understand.  I had a marriage like that myself at one time.  She was
not a pleasant woman.  When she died I celebrated by having an affair with
three young hustlers of an age less than eighteen and within a few weeks I
was n a ship bound for here.  The only thing that keeps me alive is being a
damn good surgeon and a better than average doctor with no drug or drinking
problems.  Not that you can get drunks or drink on this God forsaken shit
pile."
   "Not liking it here?"
   "No comment on the grounds that the walls have ears."
   "I see."  Jerrison said.  He was beginning to understand that there were
many who were happy to be here and others who hated the place and looked at
it as the prison that it was.
   "Don't get me wrong, son.  If you are young, hung and in shape life on
Homony can be very pleasant, heavenly even.  If you are sixty-one and
living on borrowed time with a bad ticker and a shot prostate life sucks.
The most fun I have is examining an attractive man and the occasional
hustler who I pay to give a blow job to."
   "There are hustlers here?"
   "There are.  They are licensed companions who are mostly around eighteen
and sent here for free to fill that position in life until they can pay off
their contract and become regular citizens."
   "Amazing."  Jerrison said.
   "You have no idea," the doctor replied.
   "Okay, where is this tag?"  Jerrison said.
   "Left butt cheek."  The doctor replied.
   "Of course."  Jerrison replied.  "They couldn't put it in your neck or
arm, no.  They had to put it in your ass."
   "I was kidding.  It's in the back of your left shoulder.  I just wanted
to see your ass."  The doctor said.
   "Very funny," Jerrison replied.  Just for the sake of the man's
amusement he dropped his pants anyway and gave the man a look at his ass.
   "God, why can't I get it up anymore?"
   "No Viagra?"
   "It aggravates the prostate and heart to much.  I can't take any of the
enhancements."
   "I'm sorry."
   "Me too.  Thanks for the view though."
   "No problem."  Jerrison pulled his pants back up and buckled the belt.
He sat o the examining table.
   The doctor opened a drawer and removed a device that looked like a bar
code scanner in a store.  He placed it against the back of Jerrison's left
shoulder and pressed a button, waited a moment and a computer beeped on the
desk.  He removed the device and placed it back in the drawer.  "Zackary
Scott Draper, 121-44-6677, age 34.  You look a little older than 34 there
Zack."  There was a hint of amusement in the doctor's voice.
   "I'm almost 41."  Jerrison said.
   "I figured as much.  You look good but you are showing some signs of
wear."  The doctor typed on the computer and a printer began to hum.  The
man opened a cabinet under the computer and pulled several papers from the
printer tray. "Take these back to Regi and he'll set you up with
identification papers to take to the bank and whatever else you'll need to
get by."
   "So what?  I'm stuck being this Zack character for the rest of my life?"
   "I don't think you're the type to settle for something that isn't what
you want so I'd say no.  I expect you'll get a representative and try to
get some answers from back in LA.  That is where you said you were from,
right?"
   "Yeah, but I don't remember mentioning it to you."
   "Maybe it was Regi."  The man said.
   "Maybe."  Jerrison replied.
   "I have other patients to see who are actually sick so I guess I better
get back to it."  He wrote something on a piece of paper and handed it to
Jerrison.  He placed his finger to his lips and shook his head.  "Nice
meeting you Zack.  Good luck."
   "Thanks."
   "The nurse will escort you back to Regi at his earliest convenience.  We
are a little swamped today.  Seem to be a stomach virus circulating the
island, nasty little bug.  Take care."  The doctor left the room and closed
the door.
   Jerrison opened the piece of paper the doctor had handed him.  I know
you are telling the truth.  They made me do it.  Call me tonight.  555-8877

Jerrison put the folded paper in his front pocket with the key and read
through the print outs the doctor had given him.  Zackary Scott Draper?
Who the fuck is Zackary Scott Draper?

TO BE CONTINUED...