Tymber Dalton - Spider Bight

And nothing else.

Emi swallowed hard, feeling as well as hearing the click in her throat.

Mauri chuckled. “The trainers have allotted free time. The dark-haired one is Naj’Mauri. He is one of my favorites.”

“Naj’Mauri?”

“Yes. We name our males giving them part of our name. When they are owned,” Mauri clarified. “Even though they are part of the Imperial Stables, I personally own them.”

Apparently Naj’Mauri finished. His body went rigid and his eyes dropped closed. Viewing them from the side allowed Emi a closer look at both males’ sides.

The doctor in her brain briefly checked in, trying to keep from losing too much blood flow from her head to her clit. “Is that the tympanic region? Under their arms?”

Baltin nodded. “Yes. Females have it as well, although it’s not as prominent as it is in the males. Our scientists suspect it is larger in the males because they are so much more emotional and needing the stimulation than we do.”

The males switched places. Now privy to the entire process, Emi watched as the blond male stroked his hands along Naj’Mauri’s torso. From the way Naj’Mauri’s back arched and he wiggled his ass at the other male, he appeared to enjoy it.

“The light-haired one is Gaj’Mauri,” Mauri said. “He is younger, but I allowed them to pair up. They seemed rather fond of each other and I didn’t have the heart to deny it when they asked me.” She smiled as she watched Gaj’Mauri going to town, fucking Naj’Mauri’s brains out. “They are so cute together like this. They are both trainers. They each have their own…novice, I think is the English word equivalent. A helper. Someone in training to become a trainer. Trainers usually use their novices for relief, it is one of their duties. But we allow experienced and trustworthy trainers like this time to play as well.”

Emi’s emotions wildly fluctuated between turned on and revolted. She tried to rein in her apparently missing objective physician’s mind. She shouldn’t be judgmental. Their society was different than her own.

But damn, they were hot-looking, well-hung males.

Now she couldn’t wait to end the tour and get back to her own three men.

The two males finished up and left the dorm room. Mauri led the way up the corridor, past several more windows which looked into other dorm rooms. Some empty, some with males asleep or lounging in bunks, and one with another pair of trainers shagging each other’s brains out.

Mauri spoke in Moran to one of the guards, who left in a hurry. Then the group stopped in front of another large window, higher up the corridor. It looked down onto a large room that reminded Emi of a gymnasium.

In the center of the room lay two rows of padded benches. At least, Emi assumed they were benches, although they looked odd. Approximately thirty males mingled inside the room, all collared and wearing matching belts. Some of the collars had no seals. Those appeared to all be brown. There were no males wearing red, but there were blue, green, yellow, orange, and even one purple.

Along the outskirts of the room were various pieces of equipment Emi suspected were used for exercise, based on the way some of the males seemed to be using them, reinforcing her gymnasium opinion. There were also pallets on the floor along the walls, and what looked like the Moran version of toilets, sinks, and open showers.

“The colors signify their training status and stature. The brown ones are males still being broken in for training who have yet to be assigned.”

The guard returned with another woman, who was dressed in an outfit reminding Emi of a medical technician. She also wore a nametag with a picture of her face on it.

Mauri spoke to her for a moment in Moran. Then Mauri turned to Emi. “You are in for a treat, Doctor. Those are a batch of fresh males who haven’t been classified yet. They were brought over from the dormitory this morning to begin their formal training and assignment. I had hoped today was the day so you could witness the process.”

Emi was afraid to ask what that meant, so she simply smiled and said, “Great.”

The technician walked over to a panel and pressed a button. She spoke to someone, who responded. Then a tone sounded.

Inside the room, the men looked up. The ones not wearing brown collars all stopped what they were doing and moved to the outside of the room, some standing and watching, some leaning against the wall, and some sitting or lying down on the pallets.

The ones wearing brown collars milled around in the center of the room, some looking decidedly nervous. Emi counted ten of them.

Then three men in red collars, accompanied by three men in grey collars, entered the room, Gaj’Mauri and Naj’Mauri among them.

“That is Wan’Mauri,” Mauri said, pointing to the third male in red, who did look older than the other two. “He is my oldest and favorite male. He was a gift to me from my mother upon my coming of age.” Her proud smile positively beamed. “He is the most experienced trainer currently working. He trains novices from all over the city. He started as a pleasure male, but I was so fond of him, when he aged out of that job I had him transferred to training. Pleasure males trained by him are highly sought after and fetch extremely high prices when sold.”

A sick feeling developed in Emi’s gut. “Aged out?”

“Unable to perform his pleasure slave duties. Once males get to a certain age, they are…no longer reliable, I supposed you could say. It is not their fault. Their bodies simply age.” Correctly interpreting Emi’s expression, Mauri laughed. “Oh, Doctor, do not worry. They are transferred into other, more suitable duties when they age. Breeders and pleasure males know they cannot continue to do that all their lives.”

“What happens when males get to be too old to work?”

“We have a care facility. Males often stay with their owners until they die, if they have an owner who is able to properly care for them when they reach that stage. Unowned state males are continually transferred into suitable positions until they are too old to work. Then they go to the care facility to live out their days. They are not animals. We are responsible for their well-being and do not take that role lightly. It is also common for mothers to pass males down to their daughters. Except for breeders, of course.”

Emi swallowed back a sick feeling. “Of course.”

“Well, we certainly wouldn’t want a citizen breeding her own sire. That’s why breeders are carefully tracked. It is not uncommon for them to be utilized as breeders for a limited number of offspring, and then they are sterilized and utilized as pleasure males. Except for the ferals, of course.”

Emi wanted to ask what that phrase meant. But her attention had now fixated on what was going on in the room below them. The males with brown collars were being lined up along one of the benches by the men in grey collars. One by one, they were bent over the bench. Restraints Emi hadn’t noticed before were attached to their wrists and ankles, leaving their asses spread and vulnerable.

“The restraints are simply a precaution,” Baltin said. “It is rare they’re actually needed. But occasionally a male will panic during this phase. It is for their own safety and the safety of the other males, and the trainers, of course. Males are used to being restrained early in life, and it comforts and calms them.”

“Sure,” Emi numbly said. She thought she could guess the reason for the second bench. Anyone sitting there would be in the perfect position to…

Gulp.

The men in grey, under the watchful eyes of the trainers, worked their way down the line of restrained men, stroking their backs, paying close attention to their tympanic regions. They stroked their legs, their arms, their asses.