The Last Photograph
by Wrestlr
9.
When the haloes went into active mode, I saw what the other six soldiers saw and heard what they were thinking, and vice versa. They were in my head, and vice versa. The haloes did more than just download skills into our heads—they linked our minds. The technicians rambled about “thought transmission radials” and “encephalic vectors” and other shit when they thought we weren’t listening. Wouldn’t have mattered—I didn’t understand any of it. Bottom line: We thought and reacted as one. In active mode, all we thought about was the objective, doing whatever was needed to accomplish the task, and we operated simultaneously. Our individual goals and desires, and even our individual thoughts, ceased to exist.
As a Soldier, I graduated to being housed in barracks conditions with the other six Soldiers. The barracks were basic bunk beds, little more than a frame and a mattress, but it beat sleeping in a metal cage. The room held thirty beds total, so I suspected we were only the first. The other six slept top and bottom on the first three pairs of beds. As their commanding officer, I slept solo, on the bottom bunk, in the fourth unit.
Our days began with the lights coming on. Time meant little, but I estimated we had twenty minutes to shower, shave, dress in whatever gear they brought to us that morning, and eat the meals they brought to us. Then the haloes went active mode, and we were marched to the chair room for training mode and that day’s downloads.
Then, back in active mode and fully under their control, we drilled. The haloes downloaded skills, but the drills gave us familiarity using them. Most were things I’d already done a thousand times, but were less ingrained in the other six Soldiers. Marching and running for miles. Climbing and rappelling. Guns and grenades and hand-to-hand combat. Our handlers were preparing us for something. When my head was in active mode, I didn’t care; all that mattered was leading my team through the drills, making sure they got it right. I was an excellent Soldier because I didn’t know any other kind to be when the halo was active.
The two Soldiers I had recognized? The new Soldier with his head still shaved and barely stubble grown back was Jason, relegated here after whatever problems prevented him from undergoing the “normal” training that Paul and others apparently went through. The other Soldier I recognized had been haloed longer, judging the way his hair had grown long enough to nearly obscure his halo around the sides and back of his head. I recognized him from that last photograph Paul had sent, where this guy was on the far left, next to my bother—Angel, by name. He never said what he’d done to get haloed; I didn’t ask. Justin and Angel were college kids with heads full of downloaded military skills, but they had the basic physical foundations: athletic physiques, plenty of muscle, fit. They picked up quickly, toughened up fast.
The handlers worked us well past sundown. At the end of the day, we were piled into the barracks and stripped—they weren’t taking any chances with us and took our uniforms before releasing us the haloes’ control. Then we were given about one hour with the haloes in standby mode with the “group mind” subservience shut off, which gave us autonomy and our personalities back. We ate another meal, talked, horsed around some, played poker with the deck of cards we were allowed to have, did whatever we wanted as long as we didn’t try to leave the barracks room—which we couldn’t since, by the way, we were locked in. Most nights ended with the lights dimming, a warning that one minute later the haloes were going into sleep mode. When that mode engaged, we fell immediately into a deep sleep, no matter what we were doing, so we had to be in our racks and ready when that happened.
Most nights means not every night. Our handlers kept us so exhausted during the day, it hardly mattered. Most of us hit the rack before that one hour of free time was up anyway.
But on nights when we weren’t zonked out with sleep mode, after the lights went completely out and darkness hid everything, I’d sometimes hear bed springs squeak as one of the men jacked off furiously. Sometimes I heard quiet slurping that sounded suspiciously like a cock getting sucked. I didn’t care—I was always too tired to stay awake.
One night, after I’d lost count of the days, I slept stretched out on my cot, on my back, covered by a thin sheet pulled up to mid-stomach. I woke when the sheet slid down, exposing my groin to the air in the darkness.
“You awake?” Justin whispered in the darkness. I said nothing.
The mattress sank as he leaned over me. I felt his lips on my stomach, the lightest touch that made my muscles flutter. Fingers slid along my hip, mapping where my body lay in the blackness. Lips traced my treasure trail down to my pubes. My cock was hardening. I was glad the lights were out and he couldn’t see, but he felt it when he moved his mouth down still further and brushed the root of my boner. It felt good. I hadn’t been with a woman in a long time. I hadn’t masturbated in a while. My body responded to the warmth of his breath, his mouth. He couldn’t see my embarrassment or my need in the dark. Good.
Justin’s mouth found the head and swallowed my boner. I’m big, but he knew how to suck, and he managed after a few tries to take it all. I found myself enjoying the simple human contact. His mouth pulled away. I felt the mattress sag as he climbed on. His legs straddled me, butt riding lightly on my stomach. I felt him reach back and find my stiff cock with his hand. I froze. But in a moment of weakness, I didn’t tell him to stop. His ass lifted. He pulled my dick head to his ass and sat back. His ass sank around my cock as if spit-lube was all he needed.
He needed a minute to get used to it in his ass. I didn’t move. His ass gripped my shaft, nursed at it as his hips rode up and down, slow and sweet. I had never stuck my cock in a man’s ass before. Justin did all the work. I felt his palms on my chest. I reached up to where a woman’s tits would be and found his nipples after a moment of fumbling in the dark. His were small and hard and had a few hairs around them, but I stroked at them and pinched them gently like I would a woman’s, which he seemed to like judging from his trying-to-be-quiet groans.
“Shit, you’re big,” he whisper-sighed. “So fucking big.” I do have a big cock. His appreciation made me proud.
He kept sliding up and down, going slowly. Long, even strokes. A couple of times I felt his stiff cock bounce against my abdomen. Felt like he had a good-sized one himself, but I didn’t touch it. I felt his ass clamp around my cock. He sighed. Something hot and liquid hit my chest. His cum.
Too late to worry about that. My own balls were ready. “I’m—”
“Shh.”
I bit my lip to make sure I came silently. His ass sank to the base of my cock, and my load exploded into him. My body bucked up from the narrow cot as the sensation exploded all through me. It had been a long time. My orgasm was intense.
When it was over, my cock softening and still up his ass, he bent forward. I felt his lips brush mine in the darkness. I turned my face away.
He pulled himself off me. I rolled on my side, hoping he’d take the hint. Instead, he settled in behind me on the cot, fitting his body along mine. Okay. I was too sleepy in the afterglow to say no. He slung his arm across me to keep from falling off the narrow cot. The simple warmth of his skin against mine felt good, better than I’d imagined. His still-hard cock poked the back of my thigh. I lifted my knee, and his cock settled into the space between my legs, under my balls. His hips moved, just a little, barely perceivable, not quite fucking his cock between my thighs, but not quite just holding it there either. His hand on my stomach inched downward, found my cock, half-hard too again, and wrapped around it. I didn’t push his hand away. He started stroking, the lightest of grips. My balls tingled. His body alongside mine felt unexpectedly comfortable, and I half-dozed as he worked at my cock and thighs. He bit my shoulder gently as he came. I felt his cum run down the front of my thigh. I was surprised by how warm it was, warmer than I’d expected. I came too, a minute later, and I fell asleep with his cock still between my thighs and his hand still around my dick.