The Virgin Master

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Authors: Jordan Brewer

Tags: #Gay, #Fiction

BOOK: The Virgin Master
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The Virgin Master

 

 

B
y

 

 

 

 

  
             
             
             
Jordan Brewer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright(c) Jordan Brewer 2010

All rights reserved

 

Notes:

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents, either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author does not have any control over and does not assume any
r
esponsibility for third-party web sites or their contents.

 

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the author is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic or printed editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dedication:

To Keith. He knows why.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pr
ologue

 

In the year 2220 the global economy shifted disastrously. The financial sector, riddled with criminals and unstable brokers, nearly brought the world to its knees. After the dust cleared, the middle class had been eradicated, governments had been forced to establish the existence of debtor prisons and re-institute slavery due to the impossibility of providing even minimal welfare support for all those left bankrupt and/or unemployed after the financial shift. Debtors worked for corporate masters at minimum wage until debts were discharged. Since the costs of room and board were deducted; few lived long enough to work their way to freedom. Sometimes, if a family member of a bankrupt family happened to be young, healthy and attractive he/she would be given the option of being sold as a personal slave. If sold for enough, the slave could buy family members out of debtor’s bonds. The slave, however, would never be eligible for manumission. In the United States, the slave market was subcontracted to the IRS who could be assured of collecting back taxes and expenses before any of the purchase price
would be applied to other debt.

 

Since corporations now openly controlled the economy, governments became increasingly nervous about their own survival. Remaining private investors also feared losing their immense personal wealth and demanded total transparency concerning those who controlled and operated the surviving corporate behemoths. Thus, it became law in most countries that any individual bearing the responsibility for making financial decisions for publically held companies had to undergo a thorough psychological examination once yearly with the results made public.

 

Additionally, since credible medical research proved a link between a lack of healthy sexual activity and poor mental and physical health, each corporate master had to prove that he/she maintained a relationship of some kind providing them with a minimum of two instances of sexual gratification weekly. Public logs were maintained of these sexual activities. Due to
resurgence
in “family values,” married individuals were exempt from the requirement of keeping a public log since it was assumed, erroneously, that marriage would provide the requisite sexual outlet. Owners of personal slaves could also avoid maintaining public “satisfaction” logs.

 

For those who chose to remain unmarried there were few choices that would protect their privacy; they could engage a regular sex worker (whose visits would be logged and made public) or buy a personal slave.
O
therwise
t
hey were compelled to visit government owned Satisfaction
Centers to be observed by case workers completing acts of self-gratification twice weekly.

 

Chapter One

 

Evan fidgeted as he waited for his father to finish his phone call. It was already 9 PM and he should be getting ready for the opening of the Japanese market. He felt sure his father wanted an update on the Alcoa merger so he had brought a jump drive containing spreadsheets and copies of the final contracts with him. His body hummed with the adrenalin rush that always accompanied finalizing a deal, although the eight double shot espressos since noon also had something to do with it. He
itched
to get back to his office to start preparations for the closing, and to fire the opening shot on his next target. His father knew he couldn’t stand down time, so he didn’t even try to control his jiggling leg or the restless drumming of his fingers, despite the wondering look his father cast his way. He brushed his hand impatiently through his thick copper hair. Finally, the call finished, Allen James turned his exhausted eyes to his wired son.

 


Okay, Dad. I have all the spreadsh
eets for Alcoa, right here, and I
….”

 

“Slow down, Evan. That’s not why I asked you to stop
by.

 

Evan sat up even straighter, his tension increasing exponentially. “So, what….?”

 

Allen ran his fingers through the still thick mop of graying hair on his head, a gesture he had always shared with his son when flustered, and flushed slightly. “Son, I really wish you’d been at the board meeting yesterday…” he held up one hand
, apparently
to forestall the flurry of excuses backed up in Evan's throat.

 


I understand….hell we all understand…that Justin was the center of your life and that losing him so young h
ad to be profoundly difficult.”

 

Evan felt anger flare sharp and low in his belly. “What
             
the
,

hell business does that bunch of ….of…old
harpies
have in discussing my personal life?”

 

B
itterness
twisted his gut as memories of Justin’s last week surged up from where Evan thought he had securely buried them.
The
bloody vomit
,
the gasping desperate search for breath
,
the unsuccessfully smothered anguished cries of pain
,
as the cancer roared through his lover’s body like a forest fire in an unreachable wilderness. Justin died a long, hard, painful death, after his short, brilliant, exuberant life. Evan died with him
, at least
all the parts not related to work. Even after four years, he still experienced the agony of watching the light die in Justin’s eyes as if it had been moments ago.
Evan
had given everything he had left to the company.

 

It seemed he had a lot to give, because at this moment, James Enterprises, Inc. was one of the two or three remaining companies in North America still financially sound after the long spiraling depression that still had not found rock bottom. Evan had gotten the unflattering nick name of
“Werewolf of Wall Street” deservedly.  Once he had his teeth in you, you turned into property of James, Enterprises, Inc.
What more can I give them to make them leave me alone?

 

Allen shifted uncomfortably. “Well…you know as well as I do that the investors have a right to inquire into your health, Evan. You know that your psych profile and your sexual activity logs have to be made available to investors and the general public. Just like mine do. Just like the board members’.”

 

“Yes, and?”

 

“We’re all worried about your next psych
eval
.”

 

“Why?” Now Evan could clearly see the path his father walked and he liked it so little he had to fight himself to keep from launching out of his father’s office on a dead run back to the sanctuary of his own.

 

“Well, you know that sexual health has become a new
item for the evaluation, and, right now, Evan, you’re going to fail that one.”

 

Evan stared at his father in open disbelief. “What, you want a report on how many times I jack off now? Or what?”

 

Allen sighed and dropped his eyes. “Quite frankly, yes. Evan, you
know
that increased transparency in private behavior goes with the kind of positions you and I hold. You haven’t
been going to your scheduled Satisfaction appointments
. I
n fact, I can’t see that you’ve kept even one of them. You don’t own a personal slave; you have no lover; no spouse; no paid sex workers have logged in to visit you.
And I’m positive that you haven’t been engaging in casual sex or
even one night stands because you almost never leave this building. To the board, and to the investor groups, this aversion to personal intimacy gives weight to the idea that you’re still deeply depressed about losing Justin the way you did.
You’re only twenty-eight, Evan. We’ve
t
alked about this; I sent you copies of the reports in the New England School of Medicine Journal. You already know that there’s a direct correlation between lack of sexual outlet and emotional stability, not to mention heart disease and cancer. You can’t just keep ignoring your legal responsibilities. You know as well as I do that individuals in high stress responsible positions are expected to at least be able to report attempted compliance with the minimum guideline of two sexual contacts per week. That’s not a problem with the population as a whole. But you
? S
on….have you had any sexual contact at all since Justin died? You haven’t, have you?”

 

E
van
managed
to control his outrage. “This is totally private. I’ve been working my ass off for this company and you certainly can’t point to any negligence or missed opportunities.”

 

“What did I just say? It’s
not
private anymore
. N
ot for you. Anyway, I’m not worried about the company, son. I’m worried about losing you. Permanently; the way you lost Justin.”

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