Need

Need

Disclaimer: All mine, none for you. Gareth, Leandre, Mr. Rapture, and the Perfect Pleasure are my original creations and should only be borrowed with permission.

Gareth walked down the brightly lit streets of Gomorrah’s red light district. The trade city on the Eden colony was really a red light district on its own; hence the nickname the city had received long ago from its patrons, but this district took it to a greater extent. Eden was the moniker that did not fit. The colony was poorly terra-formed; it was a hot, arid desert with view resources other than ore. Truthfully that was why the colony continued. The mithiss ore, as the original inhabitants of Eden had called it, was stronger that titanium and withheld the forces of space and gravity separately and together better than any other substance discovered to date. The mithiss had bi products, as well that were equally valuable; a dusty powered that acted as a hallucinogen that was used by the wealthy as the chic drug of choice, in lower forms it was used as a cheap street hit, and by prisons across the galaxy it caused the worst hell for inmates. Depending on the potency of the drug and what was added to it, it could put you into your perfect fantasy or a nightmare almost impossible by your imagination.

Despite his presence in the red light district, Gareth was no user. He was a business man who owned the biggest manufacturer of mithiss on the planet, and looked every bit the part with neatly cut tawny hair and yellow eyes. He was fit, and healthy, with a strong nose, and smooth tan skin. Not only did he look wealthy in his perfectly tailored cloths, but he looked down right handsome.

The discovery of the powder’s cheap form had actually been made in one of his factory, right underneath his nose. The drug had quickly spread across Gomorrah and soon all of Eden in various mixtures that ruined lives, or ended them. While the pure powder was not the addiction, but the perfect dreams, in the diluted, cheap form, the drug gave a sense of peace and invulnerability that took a bigger hit each time to achieve. All the while it warped the chemicals of the brain so that an addict couldn’t think, couldn’t live without it. And an addict was an addict for life. With all the advances of modern medicine there was nothing in creation that could cure the need.

So far there had been no reports of the drug in that form spreading off of Eden, but it was already as bad as meth had been in the twenty first century of Earth. If it got any worse the colony would surely fall into a sea of crime and death. Because, of course as the hits got bigger and the need got stronger, the drug took its toll on the mind and the addict inevitably died, usually by his own hands, as the drug made him think, made him feel like there were hundreds of thing crawling around in his head, in his body. Addicts would stab themselves, dig things into their heads in an attempt to get these hallucinated pests out.

This scourge had begun right under Gareth’s nose; his lover had seen to it that it spread and make them a fortune. His lover who had had a penchant for the pure powder had mistakenly taken the concoction he had created and had died by his own had as the need had become too much. Jalil had been a brilliant businessman, and a brilliant lover, but as was the risk in business he had taken on a venture that destroyed him.

All along as this had happened, as the drug, the need had spread, Gareth had been oblivious. He had not questioned where all the extra profit had been coming from. Because of his blindness, Jalil had died, many more as well, and Gareth had fallen into a never ending nightmare of guilt. Somehow the seed of the drug had not been traced to Gareth’s door, so the government had not taken to punishing him for his blindness. No one would ever punish Gareth for his part, and though he could not bring himself to exact his own death sentence, he did live a sort of punishment. He was numb, and Gareth desperately craved to feel. He felt nothing at another person’s touch, not man, not women, no one eased his deadness.

He still craved release though, so once or twice a weak Gareth went into the red light district and to his pleasure house of choice. Gareth did not believe in using prostitutes, they were people, why they worked this job he did not know, but he would not seek their services. No, the House of Rapture, though it did employ prostitutes had a specific services that Gareth preferred. The owner of the House had paid for machines to be built that stimulated every part of the body associated with pleasure. He advertised it with a cautionary: After you try “Perfect Release,” sex will never do it for you again.

This wasn’t the case as it turned out. Although people used the service, it was not particularly popular. It was cold, and well mechanical, and the user had no control whatsoever. It was with this that Gareth achieved his physical release.

Business had been hectic for weeks and so Gareth had not made it to the House in some time. He was worked up, and stifled, and desperately need the release that the machine promised. Mr. Rapture, as the owner called himself was watching the door when Gareth came in.

“Long time no see, old friend,” Mr. Rapture greeted Gareth and took the younger man’s coat. “You’re in luck; I have a Perfect release in a private room waiting for a customer.”
“How lucky,” Gareth replied with the same mechanic feeling as his smile. He had know there would be a system free, more likely than not, they all were, but he saw no purpose in challenging his host.

Gareth followed Mr. Rapture a room plastered with mirrors. The idea of the room was that the user could watch his or herself in ecstasy. In the middle of the room was a chair with ever sort of little attachment stemming from all angles on the platform. There were electrodes, suction cups, everything to bring a person to completion without any human touch. Along the back wall was a station where an employee would monitor vitals, just in case. Gareth didn’t even look at the man that would be monitoring his.
Mr. Rapture left, bidding Gareth enjoy his hour. Gareth stripped and with the assistance of the employee he had yet to look at, Gareth got on the machine. The employee strapped him in, each thigh slightly parted, each ankle buckled to stirrups that would keep his legs open. Each forearm and bicep was strapped to the arm rest to keep them from flailing. Gareth neck and head where cushioned and his head strapped into a sort of helmet. The machine would bend Gareth as it needed; he was at its mercy.

The employee walked over to the monitor and powered on the machine. The first thing Gareth felt was a series of fiber optic-like tubes bending and moving up here and there over his body. A couple with suction cups stimulated his nipples and neck, as another coiled and uncoiled around his penis, while others tickled at his scrotum. Gareth felt his groin tighten and his pulse speed up, he groaned softly. His nipples hardened and suction endowed tubes attached to them sending Gareth into a small fit of pleasure and pain. He was hard now and a cylinder incased his groin, it was warming than the rest of the machine as it squeezed and stroked and sucked at his manhood all the while the other tubes still teased at his balls. Gareth became lost in the machine’s ministrations and failed to notice the tubes that came up from a hole in the seat and started oiling his anus. Gareth shivered in anticipation at the promised pleasure to come. A small tube worked its way past his sphincter, and Gareth moaned desperately and cried out. The tube curled inside of him and released more oil as it massage preparing him for what came next. A phallus-like device replaced the small tube in good time and began pumping into Gareth faster and slower, softer and harder. Gareth was mindless and exhausted already having cum repeatedly at the ministrations of the cylinder playing with his groin. The chair raised and tilted back so his bend legs wore elevated as the machine plowed into him. Gareth writhed with no hope, or real desire to escape. He was completely lost in the continuing machinations of the Perfect Pleasure.

The employee watched Gareth rather than the machine. He could hear the beeps that represented Gareth’s heart beat and knew that Gareth was indeed in the throws of pleasure. The dark haired watched with veiled dark eyes as he leaned back against the station with his arms crossed. He had seen Gareth come in often enough to know that man’s name, and to know that Gareth did not even know what he personally looked like. They had never spoken, but the employee, whose name tag read: “Leandre,” recognized that there was something robotic about Gareth’s reactions to the machine and his state after completion.

Gareth could barely move by the time the machine returned to its original position. Leandre came over and unstrapped him, making sure that Gareth could get down without harming himself and over the shower stall at the side of the room. Gareth managed fine, his face blank, though every muscle demand rest, and he was soon gone from the House of Rapture with a promise to Mr. Rapture to return in a day or two, to make up for lost time.

Leandre observed his leave and considered the expressions he had seen on Gareth face. When the slightly thicker man had been in the throws of pleasure, he had looked almost pained, but the readings on the monitor had assured Leandre that this was not the case. And even though he had certainly been exhausted and likely sore, Gareth and reacted like nothing had happened at all. There was something mechanical and haunted about Gareth, not something the Perfect Pleasure could possibly comfort. Leandre looked on at the now empty machine that was going through its self clean procedures and considered Gareth further. Leandres dark eyes glinted in the light of the room like polished obsidian. He thought aloud:

“Mr. Gareth, I do believe we should try something different with you next time.


End Chapt. 1

Authors note: Yes, there is more coming. In any case is it just me or is that machine creepy?

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