Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. So what was so 'wild' about my contracted cruise trip to Interzone, you might ask? I'll tell you. Sit here in the warm radiating glow of your computer desktops and allow me to paint a picture. A warm toned body, one radiating life and love and boundless youthful energy. Dewy sweat glistens his trembling frame, his body quivers to the touch. You lock eyes, pulsing euphoric ecstasy shoots out of you like a laser, crafting your own personal desires onto a willing empty vessel who breathes only to serve your cravings. His hazy adolescent voice bubbles with the utterances of passion, the pleadings for release, and your divine touch encircling and teasing every supple bare inch of his yielding compliant being. And that was just before breakfast! Every agent needs a cover story, and yours truly was no exception. Interzone cruise lines knew nothing and cared nothing about my personal life. Only that I'd perform twice a night for families and old rich fuckers who wanted to be amused to death in their autumn years. Thus, I conditioned and brainwashed Trevor into being my dear doting son. 'Lil Trev. My my, how they grow up so fast! I bought him an extensive wardrobe for all occasions: casual denim cut-offs and tight belly shirts for romping about in, tight nylon swimming speedos to race laps around the pool with his age-appropriate temporary play friends, and a sharp black suit and tie ensemble during formal dining occasions. I wanted to parade him around everywhere, displaying fatherly affection that would warm the hearts of all moral decent folks, and wordlessly shout out to all the other leering pervs that Trev's all MINE. What good fortune to find both the boy of my dreams and land a well-paying gig in such a short space of time. I sat on the edge of the bed in our tiny little love nest on the cruise ship, pale white light streaming out of the half-opened closet-sized bathroom I'd left ajar. Sad to say, but in present surroundings we couldn't have our usual shower rub-a-dub session. The mind was willing, but I'm afraid both of us shoved in there wouldn't leave enough room for the air. But we had a bed, and a TV showing severely edited Hollywood pabulum for parents to babysit their kids with. Trevor was lying in bed across from the small TV watching an animated talking animal movie, unconsciously rubbing over the thick bunny-patterned plastic diaper I'd put on him for his nap. The boy had some deep-seated thing for animals at this point that I could never understand. Perhaps I'd brought up some animal passions from the ID that a lifetime in human society forces you to bury deep within. Maybe he just likes wisecracking chimps. It was not for me to say. "Daddy, please don't go," Trevor mournfully pleaded. "I get sooooo scared all alone in the dark like this. Can't you just call up room service for your alkie-haul?" The childish lisps and affectations had turned an already taboo situation even dirtier, more exciting, more forbidden. But now nothing was to be forbidden. No more agonizing, no more angsting about what a terrible manipulative monster I'd become. The die was cast. I'd made my choice. And I hit the jackpot. This was bliss. Since the beginning of time the seduction of the innocent has driven us. The emphasis on purity, chastity, innocence. Something untouched to be claimed when society's conditions are met. Was this permissive boy who haunted bus stops and arcade bathrooms truly 'innocent' under that criteria. He was now. Now that I remade him. Just a flick of the eyes and I'd make him perfect, shiny, and new. But enough about all that. I needed a drink. Now I know the whole baby getup seems like a total fetish deal, but it has its purposes. 'Lil Trev had a bad habit of obeying my wishes in spit of his urgent bodily functions, mostly pissing his skivvies. Keeping him infantilized in a thick padded nappy became a necessity. I plopped a cartoonishly big rubber pacifier into Trevor's welcoming open mouth and ordered him to stay put and be silent. The colorful spirals danced around the bright blue pools of his eyes, his worried expression melting into a blank neutral one. Low moans escaped his lips, and his puffy teenage nipples hardened to sharp fleshy points. I watched his toned defined abs as his trembling stomach rose and fell with each shallow breath. And I swear I heard the slight crinkling of his diaper as his surely hardening dick fought against its encasement. I traced my fingers along the curves of his chest and stomach, coming up eye level every few moments to assault him even more with mindless bliss. I snaked a hand behind the waistband of his diaper and rubbed a lewd finger against the crack of his clenching ass. `Lil Trevor sucked his pacifier with vigor, his chin going up in down in rhythm, watery drool sliding down the side of his lips. And then, like the cruel son of a bitch that I was, I withdrew completely from my loving touches and stood back up. Baby Trev whimpered in desperate lust, his body surging with desire that I chose to disregard completely. Needed some air. I know the whole baby getup seems like a total fetish deal, but it has its purposes. 'Lil Trev had a bad habit of obeying my wishes in spit of his urgent bodily functions, mostly pissing his skivvies. Keeping him infantilized in a thick padded nappy became a necessity. So I left my lovely boy in front of the boob tube and went poolside for a while, doing vodka shots at the deserted outdoor bar. It was nearing midnight; the huge ship pool was still and bodiless. Every once in a while, I felt the windy chill on me as the cruise liner plowed on full speed ahead to Interzone. The only creature stirring was yours truly and a balding unkempt bartender with an open-buttoned tropical shirt. Had kind of a parrot head Jimmy Buffet vibe going on. Nice and friendly. Prodding about my personal life. It was tough to bullshit my way through the friendly chitchat being so tanked up and loaded, but I did my best to humor him. "So I saw you with your boy a little earlier," he said cheerfully. "Nice looking kid. Gonna break a lot of girls' hearts some day." "Believe me friend, he already has. He's quite a little horndog at his age. I must admit I'm a little envious at times." The bartender filled up my shot glass to the brim again and slid it right under my face. "You and me both pal," he laughed. "Working poolside and going to all these tropical ports is pure torture. All that nice young skin in skimpy bathing suits, sunbathing, wet and tanned. I gotta tell ya, after a while every man has his limits..." "Hear hear," I slurred, empty shot glass raised high in the air. Nearly blacked out from the movement. "So chief, mind if I ask you a personal question?" he said probingly. I smirked. "Haven't you been up to that all night? Why stop now? Shoot." "How long did you resist Tevor until you fucked his living brains out?" Wow, that sobered me right up! My eyes might as well have been bulging out of my sockets. Cover blown. The jig was up. The middle-aged slob knew everything. The obligatory blackmail move was immanent. Or so I thought. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? That's my son you're talking about!" The bartender chuckled. Saw right through my put-on anger. "Sons, daughters, bffs, I've heard it all man. Know what I 'call em? Merchandise. Playthings. Willing and able hypno fools who are too clueless to know that they've just boarded the voyage of the dammed." "Could you just cut out the theatrics and tell me what the fuck you're going on about?!" The bartender stayed calm and disarming. He knew he had the power over me. I could flail around and raise my voice however I wanted. This was the man in charge. "Well, let's cut through the bullshit now, can we?" he said extending out his hand. I shook it. What the hell. "I'm Talby, operations specialist for Interzone Inc. We're been keeping tabs on you for months Sy. We know about your gifts. Hell, we have 'em all too. Vulnerable young runaways are always the tastiest. I hope Trevor scratched that itch for 'ya." To say I was bewildered was an understatement. I felt all the blood drain from my face, a heat on the back of my neck, and every slack muscle tense up in panic. I was on the verge of a full on out of body experience. Couldn't even speak. My world was shattered. "Cat got your tongue? Didn't peg you for a big pussy fan," the bartender joked. "Near as I can tell you've been actively seducing man-meat with your powers since puberty. I don't really go in for that thing, but I gotta admit as an outsider observer it was some hot shit. Your memories are quite vivid about that sort of thing." "You've been searching around in my mind?" I said in a stupor. "Don't take it personal pal. You haven't been trained to close off your thoughts like that. Anyone as skilled as me could scan all of that in seconds flat. But I can't mindfuck you against your will, if that's what you're worried about." I guess I would have to trust him on the last one. Didn't truly know what the hell Talby and I were, and had no real way of knowing if he'd done some mind meddling to me already. So, all I could really do was accept it and pry him for more information. "Well hell, since we're all so chummy, whatever the FUCK we all happen to be, why don't you explain what we ARE!" The bartender got me a plastic cup of natural spring water and handed it out to me. "Here, you drunken fool. Get rehydrated and I'll tell you all about it." 'Can you hear me now?' I could hear his voice as clear as crystal, but his lips weren't moving. Telepathy. Read enough sci-fi books to at least know that. 'Yeah, I hear you', I replied. 'Bet you couldn't do this. You've got a lot of catching up to do. And no, you're not a space alien, secret government lab experiment, or a mutated freak. We don't label ourselves, or have a cute science classification like 'metahuman' or 'homo superior' either. The less eggheads cutting us open the better. No, we're just a bunch of like-minded folks with brainpowers who like to get our rocks off with anything that moves. Got it?' That certainly was a mouthful, or a mindful if you want to get cute about it. And my mind was working a mile-a-minute processing all of this. Damn this bartender for cutting me off! The last thing I needed to be at this moment was sober. 'Yeah, that's all well and good, but where does this leave me? You found me out, got me on board with your whole new species, got me a little play buddy. Now what?' The bartender turned his back to me and washed my shot glass out in the sink. 'We're taking every able body on this ship to Interzone, send them off to one of our pleasure islands to work for a couple weeks, and return them none the wiser. After I drop 'em off I'll get one of our teachers to give you a crash course in the ways of our 'species'. And you can bring along that boy toy too. Wouldn't want to deprive you.' 'Okay, that's the long term. Anything at the moment?' The bartended looked past me, and eyed some pretty young thing in a string bikini that was walking by. 'Yeah, scram. Hit the buffet, grab that kid some hamburgers and fries and put some meat on him. After you and the Senator he's been looking a little worse for wear.' Not wanting to cock-block him any longer, I got something to eat for me and Trevor and went back to my room. "Trevor honey," I whispered into the darkness, "picked up a little somethin somethin to munch on." Didn't get answer. The little cherub was curled up in a ball, mouth hanging open, snoring slightly. My sweet 'Lil Trev. I chowed down on a cold greasy hamburger and watched the hacked-up bits and pieces of a gross-out comedy made 'clean' for family viewing. I smiled. These families would be subjected to a lot of family-unfriendly activities, and when they came back they'd never know. It was terrible in a way; maybe what I considered 'too far' for me personally. But I found my 'blood', my real family at last. I wasn't a freak occurrence. There was a lot of folks like me after all, who used and abused their tremendous mind powers in the same sick fashion. Finally I was home. And Trevor was alongside me. As it should be.