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 Learning by Wrestlr

   //Begin Standard Headers//

   Author: Wrestlr

   Title: Learning

   Summary: Andy learns what it takes to become one of the Wolves.  An
Institute Story.

   Keywords: MC, MM //End Standard Headers//

   Disclaimer: The naked hypnotist strides confidently into your room.  His
lips curl in what might be a smile as he dangles his shiny crystal pendulum
before your eyes and announces, "Listen and obey.  If you are not of legal
age, or if you offended by sexual situations, you will leave this place
immediately.  From here on, no matter how realistic it may appear,
everything will seem like fiction to you, a pleasant dream where scientific
possibilities and laws may change according to my suggestion.  Now, if you
are willing, sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride."
Copyright - 2019 by Wrestlr.  Permission granted to archive if and only
if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read
the file.  If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use
this without the express permission of (and payment to) the author.  This

paragraph must be included as part of any archive.

   Comments to wrestlr@iname.com

   Wrestlr's fiction is archived at the following URLs:

   o /~wrestlr (MC and general M/M stories)

   o http://www.mcstories.com/Authors/Wrestlr.html (MC stories)

   * * *

   *Learning* by Wrestlr

   Andy woke up slowly, lazily, but he always made sure he woke up before
the others in his barracks.

   He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling beams overhead, and he
brought his hands up to his chest, enjoying the tease of his fingers along
the youth-smooth curves of muscle.  Dawn light washed through the barracks
windows, a dull glow through dirty glass, and the hoarse sleep-breathing of
the other youths, all younger than he, filled the barn-like room.  *Fucking
punk kids*, Andy swore silently.  He was eighteen and had been at the
Institute for five weeks, almost the full term of induction training. 
*Five down, one more week to go*, he thought, and then four or five years
of training to go before he could maybe get a field assignment and get out
of this place.

   Still, he was away from home and his psycho-nutbag mother, so that was
something.  He had trusted her with his secret, and she had betrayed him;
she has preferred her conspiracy theories about Talents to her own son. 
Well, good riddance!  The one positive thing to come from being recruited,
as far as Andy could tell, was he would never have to see that bitch again
or hear her latest diatribe about how the government was using Talents in a
secret campaign to take over the world.  But he missed his old life, and
his old friends; being morning-horny and pumping out a load made the hurt
go away, but only for a little while.  He never had much time, so he needed
to enjoy what little solitude he had left before those damned kids woke up
and started driving him crazy again with their noise and activity and
constant mind-chatter.

   He stroked his arched chest one more time and traced the borders of his
nipples, then reached lower, along his flat stomach, under the waistband of
the regulation boxers he slept in, and into his crotch.  He had a
hard-on--hell, he always woke up with one going--and he gripped its potent
stiffness, tugging upward to the wide-flanged head and back to the base. 
That felt good--hell, waking up horny and playing with his dick always felt
good, and he stretched his fingers to fumble his slippery, loose-hanging
balls.  He liked the way his big nuts barely fit into his palm, and he
rolled them and thought about waking Terry, the kid in the next bunk.  That
guy was maybe a year younger than Andy, but yeah, he was already an
accomplished cock-sucker.  Andy liked to wake Terry up some mornings and
haul him into the latrine where they could have some privacy before the
rest of the kids woke up, and Andy would let the guy gulp down on his
stud-prick, thinking to hell with what the others might think, because he
and Terry were both just plain horny and getting off, and Terry loved to
suck cock and never asked Andy to do anything in return.  But no, Andy
decided, no cock-sucker today.  Maybe he would just take his time in the
shower and beat off.  Yeah, a nice, leisurely stroke-session under a hot
shower sounded damn good.

   Friday morning.  One last day of induction training before the weekend,
which meant two whole days of doing nothing around the barracks, before
their last week began.

   Andy threw back the coarse blanket covering him and swung to his feet.
Strong muscles ridged beneath his skin, as he grabbed his shaving gear and
started for the latrine at the end of the cot-lined room.  The other kids
were still asleep, and by the time he got to the latrine, his hard-on had
faded.

   The room was humid and stank of disinfectant.  Andy went to the urinal,
flipped his prick out of his boxers, and started to piss.  He watched the
golden stream splash against the stained porcelain trough and sluice to the
open drain, and he thought about having another week of induction training
to go before they were assigned to smaller training teams, given
semi-private dorm assignments, and mixed into the general trainee pool here
at the Institute.  Yeah, one more week of living in this damn barracks,
waking up horny every morning, having the kids around all the time, jacking
off or getting a blow-job when he got the chance and a little privacy,
obeying the rules and regulations--and then--shit!--the rest of his life
would be governed by this Institute crap, even if he got a field
assignment. Yeah, the details might change, but the overall picture would
be the same.

   Andy had been plenty scared when he was first brought to the Institute
and thrown into the induction barracks, but for the first few days the
staff and handlers kept him and his fellow new recruits too busy to think
about their situation.  On the first day, the handlers took the recruits'
clothes and personal gear and assigned each of them a bunk and a locker,
and then the recruits were sent through showers and haircuts and dozens of
psychological, physical, and medical tests as their minds, bodies, and
Talents were being assessed.  "Measuring and Medical," the handlers called
it, and it ran for almost the full first week.  The recruits were kept
naked for that entire time--for *ready access*, the handlers said--and the
recruits never knew when they would be ordered to line up and submit to
whatever test some medico decided to perform next.  Yeah, Andy recalled,
after a week of being naked, being poked and prodded and measured in
whatever intimate, embarrassing way was required, he and his fellow
recruits had damn sure gotten over any self-consciousness about being nude
in a hurry.  Finally, they were issued their induction uniforms and settled
into what from then on became pretty much the same routine--classes in the
morning, preliminary Talent training in the early afternoon, followed by
gym and athletics in the late afternoon to tire them out before dinner, and
an hour of free time before lights-out.

   Most of the other guys in the barracks were just kids.  They had gotten
"recruited" and sent here to the Institute soon after their Talents
manifested, so most of them were around fourteen years old.  *Fucking punk
kids*, Andy thought again.  He himself had been a late-bloomer, manifesting
late.  Since he had been home-schooled, he managed to avoid the detectors
and tests that caught most of these guys at a younger age.  Until his
mother had found out what he could do, found out he was manifesting one of
those disgusting Talents.  She called the Institute herself to report him,
the very same afternoon.  New "recruits" were dumped together by
recruitment date and grouped by type of Talent, so timing meant Andy found
himself in a barracks with other recruits younger than he, a bunch of kids
except for Terry in the next bunk, a year younger than Andy but not nearly
as far away in age and maturity as the rest of the little punks.

   Yeah, Terry sure knew what his mouth and ass were for, and he was good
at using them.  The rest of the punks, they were still learning about their
dicks.  Life in the barracks meant everybody saw everybody else bare-butt
naked, so they had all seen pretty much every kind and shape of cock there
was by now, but those punks were still figuring out what their cocks were
for.  Andy had not known much more than they did when he arrived, but he
had already known the basics, and Terry had been happy to help him continue
his education on what getting a blow-job felt like, and Terry had even
agreed to let Andy try fucking his ass too, once.  Yeah, Andy sure knew a
lot more than the rest of those punks.

   Finished pissing, he shook off the last drops, tucked his cock back in
his boxers; he crossed to one of the basins to wash his hands and splash
water on his face, and he met his reflection in the mirror.  His dark hair,
cut regulation-short, was mussed, and his features were rapidly losing the
last traces of boyishness.  His eyes narrowed beneath heavy brows as he
studied himself, and he grinned proudly as he examined the faint
beard-shadow along his jaw.  None of the others needed to shave much yet,
not even Terry.  Andy dug his razor and shaving cream from his kit and
started to work.

   Andy was mostly finished with his shave when the door behind him opened,
and a tall, blond older youth sauntered in.  No inductee, he wore the
official Institute uniform.

   Andy nodded a greeting.  "Hey, Steve, what're you doing here this
early?" Steve was not one of the inductees; he was older, a full trainee;
he had been coming around several times over the last couple of weeks, when
none of the guards and staff were around, getting to know the new
inductees--obviously breaking the *no fraternization with the older
Talents* rule, but nobody gave a shit.  Steve was a telepath too, like
Andy, and Andy found himself respecting Steve as a sort of mentor, someone
who knew the ropes around this place.  Yeah, not only did Steve know the
rules, he also knew which ones could be bent and how to bend them, and Andy
wanted very much to learn those loopholes, if only to relieve the unending
boredom of being cooped up in the barracks when they were not going through
the endless series of medical exams, class time, and Talent-testing forced
upon all of the new recruits as part of their induction training.

   "Lookin' for you." Steve grinned and leaned back against the wall.  "Had
a hunch you'd be up early."

   "You know I like to shave and shower before the kids start crowding
around." Andy concentrated on scraping the stubble and lather from his
chin. "You remember what living in the barracks is like."

   "Yeah, it's been a couple of years for me, but I remember." Steve
scratched lazily at his chest.  "That's why I joined the Wolves and moved
into New Dorm the first chance I got.  Your indoctrination trainin' is over
end of next week, right?"

   "You know it is."

   "Got any plans for your last weekend before they dump you into the
general population?"

   "Hell, no," Andy chuckled as he wiped the last traces of the cream from
his cheek and put his razor away.  "Why?  Got something in mind?" He
strolled toward the shower area at the far side of the latrine.  "Stick
around, and we can go down to breakfast together."

   In the shower room, Andy flipped on one of the spigots, drenched
himself, and began soaping, and he thought how easily he and the drawling
blond had become friends.  Yeah, Steve was like an older brother, palling
around with him, sneaking him out of the barracks to go swimming and
working out in the gym together, talking man-to-man like Andy was his equal
and not a younger inductee.  They had even shared Terry the cock-sucker
once.  Andy worked the lather into his armpits and across his firm chest
then down over the curves and hollows of his torso, and he smiled to
himself as he reached the broad tangle of pubic hair at his groin.  While
he had psychically matured late, physically he had matured early, and at
eighteen he already looked more man than adolescent; he looked down as he
washed his full, limp-hanging genitals, his thick prick dangling over his
slow-working fingers.  He was a year or two younger, but he recalled with
satisfaction that he already had nearly as much meat as older Steve--more,
maybe.

   Andy hunched forward to scrub his solid thighs and legs, then
straightened and stretched to wash his back and tight-rounded butt.  When
he turned, he saw Steve slouched against the doorway, watching him openly.
Well, no problem--the tight quarters of the barracks meant Andy did not
mind if his friend saw him naked again.  Andy shrugged and asked Steve,
"How come you showed up here this morning?"

   "I wanted to talk to you in private." Steve's drawl was quiet and
relaxed.  "Ever had your ass fucked?"

   Andy's head snapped up in surprise, eyes wide.  "What?  Hell, no!"

   "The word's goin' around--Stoker's hot to screw you.  He likes breakin'
in the new meat, and he's got his eye on your ass."

   "No way!" Andy had seen Stoker around, knew he was the leader of the
Dragons, one of the gangs some of the Talents belonged to.  Stoker looked
like a tough bastard; Andy might be able to handle him alone, but if he
came with a couple or more of his crew, Andy would not be able to fight
them all off, even with his telepathy.  Plus, Stoker was a
pyrokinetic--most members of his gang were--and pyrokinetics scared the
shit out of Andy.  If a telepath like himself lost control, the people
around him might end up with headaches.  A telekinetic might throw a few
things around.  But if a pyrokinetic lost control, people and buildings got
burned, sometimes badly.  "No fucking way!"

   Steve shrugged.  His voice was even, just stating the facts: "Stoker's a
chief, got some pretty rough guys in his gang.  They'll corner you, sooner
or later." He stretched his neck left, then right.  "Nick said to tell you
there's an empty bunk in our part of New Dorm, if you want to move in."

   Andy sucked in a deep breath.  "Nick's damn rough himself." Nick led one
of the other gangs, the Wolves, mostly telepaths, the gang Steve belonged
to.  Steve had explained a couple of days after they met.  While the
majority of the Institute trainees were independent, a small number grouped
together in a different kind of interpersonal structure.  These were the
three or four gangs, each headed by a chief.  Andy already knew about the
basics of "social contract" theory, the way the dominant assert their
leadership, the way others seek out their protection.  In the outside
world, gangs were associated with violence and illegal activity, but inside
the Institute population, the gangs were more interested in keeping the
social order, organized around strong leaders and the members they both
protected and helped keep in line.  When Steve had explained the way things
worked, Andy had nodded and admitted the system seemed to make sense,
though he had also thought he would stay independent when he was put into
the general population after his induction training was complete.

   Still mulling what Steve had said, Andy rinsed and flipped off the
water. "Toss me a towel, huh?"

   "Sure." Steve picked up a pair of towels from the stack by the door,
handing one to Andy as he came from the showers.  "I'll dry your back."

   "Uh ...  Okay.  Thanks." Andy turned around, accepting the other towel
and rubbing it over his chest and arms.

   "Nick's a good chief," Steve continued.  "He calls the shots, but he
looks out for his guys.  If he thinks you'll fit in with our crew, you
don't gotta worry about Stoker and his bunch any more--that's the way it
works."

   "Yeah, I know." He felt Steve's towel press down the small of his back,
and along the crack in his ass, then slip forward between his legs to brush
the back of his loosened balls.  A nervous tremor ran through Andy's body.
"That empty bunk--it's in your room?"

   "Nope.  I'm already roomin' with Pack." Steve stepped back.  "Don't get
the wrong idea.  When you join a gang, you belong to the gang--and to the
chief."

   Andy finished drying his chest and legs and tossed his towel aside. 
"Think I'd be better off with Nick and you guys than with Stoker?"

   "That's up to you."

   "Not much of a choice."

   "Better'n gettin' gang-raped."

   "Yeah, I guess so." He reached for his boxer-shorts.  "Nick ever fuck
you?"

   "Yup."

   Andy froze, and his eyebrow shot up in surprise at Steve's easy
admission.

   Steve gave a half-grin.  "Way I see it, you can get your cherry popped
by a crew that'll look out for you, or you can get gang-raped by a bunch of
bastards that don't give a shit."

   "Wow--some choice," Andy muttered.  He thought about his options and
straightened to look Steve in the eye.  "Uh ...  Well, if you can take it,
I guess I can too."

   "I was kinda hopin' you'd decide that." Steve's grin widened.  "Tell ya
what.  Show me what you can do, so's I can tell Nick you're ready to run
with the Wolves."

   Andy blinked.  "Huh?" Because the rules said the recruits were not
supposed to use their Talents outside of the daily testing, when experts
were standing by--and they certainly were not supposed to use their Talents
on one another in the barracks.  "But," Andy began, though he realized
Steve already knew the regulations.  Besides, Steve had a couple of years
of training in how to use his telepathy, where Andy's had only recently
manifested and he had only a few initial training sessions.  Steve knew
that too.  So why, Andy wondered, would Steve want him to-

   "It's okay, buddy.  I won't tell nobody 'cept Nick.  Just come at me
with everything you got.  Show me how strong you are."

   Well, okay, Andy decided with a shrug.  He had not learned finesse yet,
so pretty much the *only* thing he had figured out how to do with his
telepathy so far was to throw it full-force at people.  But no matter how
strong he was, he knew he could not do much against Steve; blocking out
other people's thoughts was one of the first things a telepath learned, or
else he went crazy from all the head-voices yammering at him nonstop. 
Steve had years of experience on Andy.  But Steve was his friend,
practically like an older brother in this damn place, and if Steve wanted
him to-

   "Okay," Andy muttered.  "You ready?"

   Steve flickered half a grin.  "Come at me, bud."

   So Andy focused his telepathy and felt that part of his mind start to
wake up like a seldom-used muscle, and then he pushed forward with every
bit of his mental strength.  If Steve wanted to see how strong he was, Andy
would give him everything he had.  The push became a shove, then an
outpouring of pure power, as everything Andy had inside him slammed into
Steve's walls.  He could not get past Steve's mind-barriers, of course--the
effect seemed like trying to use the spray from a garden hose to knock down
a concrete wall--but opening up like this felt so damned good, not holding
anything back.  Andy funneled all of his anger, loneliness, and hurt, from
everything that had ever happened to him--his psycho mother, being torn
from his old life and sent here to this place, even his constant
horniness--and turned it into a raw blast at Steve's mental barrier.

   When his strength was spent, Andy's telepathic stream weakened to a
trickle, then faded away.  He felt exhausted, which he had expected, but
also oddly light, as though he had purged himself of a weight he had not
realized he had been carrying.

   "Not bad," Steve said, grinning.  "Feel better?"

   Andy thought for a moment.  Steve was such a good friend, and yes, Andy
*did* feel better, a lot better.  He grinned and nodded.

   That half-smile again.  "Thought you might."

   But did he feel better than he should?  His thoughts seemed different,
as though he was being distracted from something.

   *Better this way.*

   That was Steve's voice in Andy's head?  Well, of course it was.  No
wonder everything felt so relaxed, so colored by Steve's presence and
thoughts of what good friends they had become.  Andy had been so distracted
by blasting all of his energy at Steve's mental walls, he had not felt his
friend sneak into his head.  Yes, if he concentrated, Andy could almost
sense a tendrils of telepathic energy stretching from Steve and sinking
into his thoughts.  When he tried to grasp them, they dissipated like
smoke, only for reform elsewhere.

   *Stop.  Everything's the way it's supposed to be.*

   Well, of course it was.  Steve was his good friend, like a brother,
looking out for him.  Andy stopped trying to wrestle with the tendrils and
found himself grinning and nodding in agreement.  The tendrils of Steve's
presence seemed to coalesce, forming--a cord?  *No*, Andy decided, *a
leash*.  A leash for guiding him and making sure he came along.  As soon as
he realized that, Andy felt himself accept that he would indeed come along,
no trouble, no resistance; he would have to--he was leashed, after all, and
that meant he had to.  Andy felt Steve note his acceptance with
satisfaction, and Andy was happy that he had pleased his friend.

   *Follow me.*

   Andy knew he should feel self-conscious, following mind-leashed behind
the older telepath, walking into the barracks naked with the kids waking up
and staring at him and his older friend.  A barracks full of telepaths,
even untrained, would immediately sense the connection running from Steve
to Andy, even if the kids might not fully understand what it meant.  He
heard them buzzing to each other and saw several bounce bubble-butt-naked
from one bed to the next, whispering wisely and spreading the word--yeah,
they had guessed at least the basics of what Steve was doing, and maybe
understood why he was there, too.  But as soon as Andy started to feel the
embarrassment, he felt it fade.  Yeah, Steve was taking good care of him,
like a big brother, making sure he felt no shame.  Andy had been leashed by
an older, more experienced telepath--no embarrassment in that.

   Andy followed Steve toward his bunk.  They passed Terry's, next to
Andy's, where Steve's roommate Pack sat mind-talking to Terry, who must
have just awakened because he still looked foggy-eyed, as if half-asleep.
Andy nodded to Terry and Pack as he moved to the locker behind his bunk. 
He opened the locker and reached for his recruit uniform shirt.

   *Just the pants.  Won't need nothin' else.*

   Andy nodded.  Obviously, he would not need any other clothing.  No need
for self-consciousness either--all the guys in the barracks had seen him
bare-ass many times before--so had Steve, when they shared Terry's
cock-sucking mouth and earlier when Andy was showering.  Yeah, Steve was
taking good care of him, and he had no reason for embarrassment.  Andy took
out a pair of uniform trousers and pulled them on.

   "You fellers get Andy's shavin' kit off the sink in the latrine and stow
it away.  Make up his bunk, too," Steve drawled authoritatively to the
kids. "Tell your instructors Nick from the Wolves has taken him off-duty
for today."

   Andy felt his face flush, too quickly for Steve to fully mute his
emotions.  Yeah, the kids knew what having a chief take one of them
off-duty meant; and if Nick sent him back, they would all know Andy had not
been good enough to join the gang.  And then Stoker and his Dragons would
be sure to gang-fuck him.

   *Better this way*, Steve's mind-voice whispered to Andy.  *So's you'll
come along peaceful and won't give me no trouble.  Nick's waitin'.*

   Outside, the morning was clear and already warm, and they walked in
silence past the row of barracks.  Andy barely registered the familiar
sights.  He was too distracted by how pleasantly drowsy-groggy he still
felt this morning--the feel of the ground under his bare feet, sometimes
grass, sometimes a concrete sidewalk, then grass again--how good the early
sunlight and slight breeze felt on his bare chest--and the anchoring
comfort of Steve's arm draped buddy-friendly across his shoulders, keeping
him moving, guiding him forward--and Steve's presence inside his head, like
a calming fog that Andy could not quite grasp or wipe away--and best of
all, Andy's male-strong cock, half-hard against the inside of his trousers,
the scrape of the rough fabric keeping his dick half-aroused and sex-heavy,
sending tingling ripples through his entire body, coloring everything he
felt with a sweet horniness.  Andy barely noticed their passage in front of
the ancient, stone-faced administration building.  He seemed to be
practically floating along instead of walking, guided, kept on track by
Steve's steady arm.

   Waking up was always hard for Andy, and now he felt as though someone
kept pressing the snooze button on his mind: his thoughts starting to wake
up and clear, then slipping into fog again, waking up, slipping away.  He
kept getting lost in a memory, almost like dreaming, of the night he met
Steve.  The second week of induction training, Andy had pulled some shit
duty, heavy physical labor, that kept him away from the barracks through
dinner-time and their free hour, until nearly lights-out.  He dragged
himself back, dead-tired, to find his fellow recruits all bare-ass naked
and gathered around a bunk, watching this one dark-haired stud Andy did not
know, also naked and stretched out on the mattress and playing with his
dick.  He was older, more mature than the recruits, probably a full
Institute cadet, even though they were not supposed to mix with the new
recruits, and he seemed to be telling Andy's younger, awed barracks-mates
all about how a guy's genitals grew and what they did, using his own as a
demonstration.  Andy had heard more scientific sex-education lectures on
the subject, but this guy was really serious, like a teacher with a bunch
of wide-eyed, eager students.  Most of them had erections, and the guy let
them play with his and compare sizes, shapes, whatever they were curious
about.  Andy thought this should be weird, but somehow the display already
seemed perfectly normal to his barracks-mates, and after a moment, Andy
found himself agreeing that, yeah, this really was a natural way for these
kids to be learning how their bodies would be changing thanks to hormones
without getting embarrassed, and he knew that they would probably soon end
up having a circle-jerk session--a perfectly natural way for them to burn
off some energy, see how many of them could shoot and how much, release
some tension.  After all, they had damn little privacy in a
barracks--communal showers and all--and they had already lost any shyness
they may have had.  Hell, at that age, Andy had been inquisitive too, and
having this guy help them figure out a few sex experimentation things
seemed the most ordinary thing in the world.  Hell, the instructors
probably wanted things that way; the guys would be more relaxed and less
likely to get into trouble if they were getting their rocks off regularly.
Even telepaths could benefit from a head-full of endorphins.

   But right then, Andy was a sweaty, exhausted mess, and he did not have
the energy to watch and listen to the guy.  All he wanted was to clean up
in the shower, then haul himself to his bunk and pass out until morning. 
He pushed himself against the urge to stand and watch, the jittery tingle
in his balls that had his cock threatening to harden, just a little, in
spite of his exhaustion, pushed himself to the foot of his bunk, stripped
down to his regulation skivvies, and then shuffled his way to the showers.

   *Ahh!*--The hot shower was great, and Andy felt some energy begin to
seep into his spent muscles again.

   Sensing a presence, Andy opened his eyes, saw a blond-haired stranger
watching him.

   *Name's Steve*, the stranger's mind-voice said in Andy's head.  After
nearly two weeks of being at the Institute, guys talking mind-to-mind was
starting to seem commonplace for Andy.  *You must be pretty strong--Pack
didn't have no trouble convincin' your bunk-mates--but you, you waltzed
right on by.*

   "Pack?"--and Andy saw an image of the dark-haired stud stroking himself
on the bed.  Thurston J.  Packwell, the Fourth, or Pack for short.  Steve's
roommate.  Wolves--whatever that meant.  Andy received too much too
quickly, could not catch everything Steve was sending.

   Steve grinned.  *Don't worry none--you'll get the hang of it soon
'nuff.*

   Andy nodded.  Steve was treating him like an equal, not like the
handlers who patronized him like a kid just because he was fresh
inductee--the same way they treated his younger bunk-mates, who really were
kids.  Already Steve seemed like a good friend.

   "Mind if I join you?" Steve said out loud.  Andy realized for the first
time that Steve was naked, and he watched his new blond friend strut
cock-swinging to the showerhead opposite him and crank on the water.  As
Steve bent and twisted himself under the spray, Andy watched him, impressed
by the older cadet's body and good looks.

   And if Andy found himself getting hard, that was okay.  Steve was
showing signs of a hard-on too.  Natural.  Somehow Andy knew that, out in
the barracks beyond, the kids were following Pack's example and jacking
off, a few circle-jerking.  Relieving some tension.  Experimenting. 
Perfectly natural.

   "Feels good, huh?" Steve called across the tiled room over the spray
sound.

   Was he talking about the shower?--Or about their dicks being half-erect
and rising?  Either way, Andy answered, "Yeah."

   Andy felt something telepathic flaring somewhere, but he was not yet
good enough with his own ability to determine who or where or what.

   Steve smirked, as if he knew a secret.  "Know what else will feel good?"

   Before Andy could ask what he meant, Terry stood in the doorway to the
shower room.  Terry, who had the bunk next to Andy's, a year younger than
Andy but hardly a kid himself, and who had made no secret from the first
day about being gay.  Terry the cock-sucker, naked and looking at Steve's
rising hard-on, then Andy's, with undisguised hunger.

   And the next thing Andy knew, Terry was on his knees in the middle of
the shower room, and Steve was poking his dick into Terry's mouth, and Andy
just watched at first.  Then, too horny to stop himself, Andy stalked over,
and Steve stepped aside and Andy gave Terry his erection.  *Real cool*,
Andy thought, sharing a cock-sucker with his new buddy like that.  That
cock-sucker sure knew what he was doing--felt great--and Andy's cock and
balls started buzzing, and the next thing he knew, he was shooting his load
into Terry's mouth.  Andy scuffed Terry's hair half-affectionately as his
spent cock slipped from the sucker's lips.  And then Steve took over and
fucked Terry's face until he came.  When Steve was cumming, Terry started
moaning and trembling too, because he was jacking himself and then he shot
his sperm on the tile floor at the same time.

   Crazy, sharing a cock-sucker like that.  Andy had gotten a few blow-jobs
before being sent to the Institute, but he had never shared a cock-sucker
with another guy before.  The experience felt, he decided, really special.
And after that, ignoring the rule that cadets and recruitees were not
supposed to mix, Steve came around every couple of days, sometimes to get
Andy out of the boredom of another night in the barracks, maybe go to the
gym to swim or work out, maybe just hang out and talk, and they got to be
friends for real.

   Andy blinked, rousing from the dream-memory, as if finally waking up. 
Somehow they had cleared the checkpoint between the induction area and the
rest of the Institute.  Andy was out of uniform, wearing only the pants
that scrubbed, both rough and pleasant, across his hard and ready cock,
which had to be clearly visible to anyone who looked, but Steve had taken
care of everything.  Anyone who saw them would know Steve was one of the
Wolves, would know Andy was being taken to see the chief of the Wolves--and
why.  Through Steve's reassuring fog in his head, Andy realized this
display must be intentional: word would get to Stoker and his Dragons. 
Yeah, Andy resolved again to show Nick he was tough enough to join the
Wolves; no way would he be sent back.  He would take anything Nick threw at
him, even if it meant getting fucked, and he take everything-

   *Startin' to get the idea*, Steve's mind-voice seemed to chuckle in
Andy's head.

   They had nearly completed the long walk while he was distracted by his
memory, crossed the wide lawn in front of the gym at the far end, passed
the dorms where most of the Institute's cadet-Talents were housed.  Up a
gentle hill they approached a concrete-modern, two-story dormitory.  "Us
Wolves got this end of New Dorm, and Stoker and his Dragons got the other
end," Steve announced casually.  "My room's on the second floor, next to
Nick's."

   "Are we going to your room to ...  you know ...  do it?"

   Steve shrugged.  "If Nick says to, but I think you'll be spendin' a bit
of time in every room this weekend.  Nick's the chief.  What he says goes."

   They entered the building, and a voice echoed from a side hall, cursing
loudly, followed by laughter and a door slam.  Steve led the way up a
flight of stairs and down a bright-lit passageway to the end.  He opened
the door.  "This here is Nick's place."

   The room was large and spotless.  An open door led to a porcelain-bright
bathroom.  Beneath the drape-hung windows stood a study desk, and the
coffee-maker on the corner of it sent the aroma of a fresh brew into the
air, making Andy's stomach growl.  Two narrow beds butted against opposite
walls, one neatly made, the other still sleep-rumpled.  Andy blinked with
surprise, surveying.  "Man, you guys have it made, huh?"

   "It ain't so bad," a quiet voice declared and, surprised, Andy turned to
find a powerfully built young man standing towel-clad in the bathroom
doorway behind him.  "I'm Nick."

   Andy felt telepathy flaring, like a connection being reestablished, but
he could not figure out the details.  Then he saw Steve's expression go
just a little dreamy-distracted, and he figured Nick was-

   Nick growled, "Pour us all a cup of coffee, Steve."

   "Yeah ...  Sure, Chief." Steve hustled to the coffee machine on the desk
and began filling three mugs.  "I was just tellin' Andy here about--"

   "I heard you." Nick shifted to the youth, surveying him coldly.  His
features were sharp-cut and hard, and the wide, flat-curved plates of his
chest were dusted with a patch of dark hair, his stomach muscle-etched, his
mature genitals outlined beneath the carelessly-knotted towel.  "Hi, Andy."

   "Hi." Andy could not take his gaze off Nick's rugged, all-male build, so
unlike the pink-young boys in his barracks who went running around showing
off their little peckers and cock-hot butts.  "Steve said ...  said ..."
Andy's thoughts trailed off.  Thinking was so difficult.  He could not seem
to finish that thought, or any other.  "Thanks ...  for getting me off-duty
today."

   Nick's eyes held steady.  "Your indoctrination trainin' is done in a
week, right?  Ready to move out of the barracks you're livin' in and into a
real dorm?"

   Andy was not sure why the older Talents always seemed to call the
induction training "*indoctrination training*" in a snide tone, like they
knew some secret about what was happening, but he would have to ask about
that later, when he could hold on to the line of thought.  For now, he
could only answer the basic question: "Yeah ...  guess so."

   "If you're tough enough, there's a place open in the Wolves." He
sauntered across the room and took a coffee cup from Steve.  "Think he's
tough enough, Steve?"

   "Up to you, chief," Steve drawled.

   "Damn right it is!"

   Andy accepted the mug Steve offered him, and he found himself staring at
Nick, fascinated by his cold, sure masculinity and the unmistakable sense
of power and authority he radiated.  Andy understood that he would have to
do whatever the chief ordered; but somehow he also understood that,
whatever Nick asked, he would do willingly--lick his balls, suck his cock,
take Nick's dick up his virgin asshole--anything and everything--and he
felt a tingle of sex-excitement ripple in his nuts.

   "Didn't know ...  you guys have things so good over here," Andy
murmured, gulping his coffee.  "I mean, this is like ..."

   "We make the best of a lousy deal." Nick gulped down the last swallow
from his cup and put it down.  "You got four or five years to go here
before you're trained and ready for a field assignment, huh?"

   "Yeah."

   "Think you can take it?--Bein' part of the Wolves?"

   "I can take it."

   "Wait here, Andy." Nick shrugged and nodded to Steve.  "We better go see
about our other guest."

   "Sure," Steve nodded goofily.  "Pack's gettin' him ready next door, in
our room." He started toward the door, giving Andy that big-brother smile.
"See you later, pal."

   "I'll be right back," Nick muttered, following blond Steve into the
hallway.

   Andy finished his coffee and put the mug down.  With Steve and Nick
gone, his head seemed to be clearing.  He turned, pushed back the curtain,
and stared out the window, saw several youths in Institute uniforms
hustling across the broad lawn toward the distant chow-hall, and a pair of
guards on patrol striding down the path from one of the administration
buildings.  He pulled in a deep breath, and then he sensed Nick come into
the room behind him, heard the door close, the lock snap.

   "I was younger than you when I got into the gang," Nick said quietly,
coming up in back of Andy and gripping his bare shoulders.  "The chief
then--man, he was a real mean son of a bitch, but I would've spent most of
my time gettin' in trouble or breakin' a bunch of rules if he hadn't made
me shape up." Nick rubbed his palms outward to the firm-rounded tips of
Andy's shoulders and then slid them forward and down over his arched chest.
He looked over Andy's shoulder, nodded toward the guards passing on the
path.  "Ever have them guards work you over?  Or one of your instructors?"

   "Yeah, once," Andy sighed, not knowing what else to say.  He felt the
warmth of Nick's body against his back, and he stood still, forcing himself
not to shiver with the tension mounting inside him.  "I wised-off at one of
the instructors, the first week, and he practically fried my brain.  He
made me feel like my nuts were being crushed in the world's biggest vise.
Man, I almost wish they'd beat me like my psycho mom used to instead.  I
never hurt as bad as I did when he ...  you know.  I sure learned my
lesson."

   "Yell?"

   "Not at first, but yeah, when he really cranked it up.  The pain felt
really real, especially when he made me feel like there was a vice clamping
down on my nuts."

   Nick ran his fingers back and forth over Andy's chest, brushing the tips
of his nipples repeatedly.  "If a guy in a gang screws up, the guards and
the instructors tell the chief, and he takes care of it.  I'm chief of the
Wolves, and I look out for my guys--make it easy for them when they've got
problems, or get them squared away when they fuck up.  And the guys look
out for each other--know what I mean?"

   Andy felt Nick's thoughts slipping into his mind, but he could not seem
to hold them back.  Still, he felt the tension that had been rising in him
begin to drain away.  In fact everything seemed to be fading away except
his awareness of Nick's warm body pressed to his.  "Yeah, I guess so."

   "The gang's like a family--the closest any of us fuckers will ever get
to havin' a family again, maybe.  But it don't mean that hittin' the sack
with one of the guys is anything more'n just gettin' your rocks off
together.  All of us get horny--and that's all it means, understand?"

   The youth looked down and watched as Nick's rough fingers grazed over
his bare chest.  He watched the motion of the thick knuckles, then his gaze
ran up the wrist and brawny forearm, and Andy wondered if resting back
against Nick would feel the same as resting back against Steve, his big
brother, his pal.  Steve.  Something Steve had said--a thread Andy tried to
grasp.  "Steve told me if I got into your gang, you guys'll--"

   "Yeah, Stoker and his boys'll leave you alone," Nick interrupted, "but
you'll have me for a chief.  Understand?"

   "Yeah, I ...  Sure."

   Nick's arms roamed over the youth's body again, pulling Andy's bare back
to Nick's bare chest; and Andy began to register that Nick's hands were
weaving their way downward, pawing over the front of Andy's uniform pants,
outlining his aroused cock, and digging deeper to test his full-marked
testicles through the cloth.  Somehow Andy's waistband and fly became open,
and Nick slipped a palm down his groin and into his trouser-crotch, to feel
the goods directly.

   "Steve told you what to expect, huh?" Nick shoved Andy's trousers down
on his thighs, and Andy registered for the first time that Nick was fully
naked too, no more towel around his waist, when he felt Nick's heat-swollen
prick rub against his exposed tail.  "Get out of your pants, kid.  Take 'em
off."

   Andy knew he should bristle at being called *kid*--he was eighteen, a
man, damn it--but he *was* younger than Nick and he sensed Nick meant no
insult, so he let the comment drift away.  Without hesitation, Andy kicked
his feet free of the pants tangled about his ankles, and then he was being
spun about and caught face-to-face in the chief's embrace.  He felt the
lightly haired chest against him, and a peculiar hunger fired within him;
sure, he had messed around with a little with guys his own age before the
Institute, but always getting, never giving--now Nick was--yeah, Nick was
like Steve--a big brother--all grown-up--man-strong and horny
and--and--Andy felt the rest of the thought float away, as Nick's telepathy
submersed him into a soup of obedient submission and pure lust.  He managed
a brief protest, "Damn it, Nick ...  Chief ...," before Nick's influence
drowned out all other thoughts.

   "Yeah, that's right." Nick held the youth prick-to-prick, and his
fingers trickled down Andy's spine, into the small of his back and along
the tight crevice between his ass cheeks.  "I'm the chief ...  And you'll
be one of the gang--just one of the gang.  You understand that, right?"

   "Yeah ..."

   "On the bed, kid."

   Of the two beds in the room, Nick turned Andy toward the one that was
neatly made, military-fashion.  Andy dropped on it, and then Nick was
sprawled beside him, holding him, squirming against him, getting him so
damn hot!  Andy felt that muscle-hard body against his and smelled the
scent of fresh-washed maleness--he wanted more, craved more--and then he
was nuzzling the chief's chest with his lips, licking, tonguing, tasting
the tang of bare flesh-

   "Nick ...  Chief ..."

   "Stop tryin' to fight it.  Shut up and keep goin', kid."

   Andy felt the man's hands stroke his head then rest on his shoulders and
press firmly, and Andy worked his lips downward over the strong, athletic
nakedness.  He felt as though he was being engulfed in Nick's warm,
sensuous masculinity, and his own desire flamed so damned hot and demanding
through him.  Yeah, he would do anything Nick said, Andy knew--he felt too
damned aroused to disagree.  Then he sprawled between Nick's powerful legs,
his lips only inches from the older youth's throbbing prick, and he raised
his head to gaze at the potent flesh-column.  Andy had gotten a few
blow-jobs, never given one, but now he was confronted with the fact of
Nick's erect cock, right in front of him.  The shaft was thick and
vein-etched with hardness, tapering slightly at the collar and topped with
a gleaming, arrowhead glans, and Andy watched his fingers move on their own
and lock about the base and press it back, exposing the large, tight-sacked
testicles.

   Something that felt like Steve or maybe Nick, maybe both, flicked inside
of him, briefly, and Andy's thoughts seemed somehow distant from the
action, as if his body was taking over.  His body knew what to do--it was
practically a machine, a sex-machine.  Machines performed whatever task
they were built to do, and his body knew how to do what was required. 
Without hesitation, Andy's head dropped down to run his lips over Nick's
balls, the warm, musky man-scent flooding into his nostrils, and a new
excitement filled him as he heard Nick's murmurs of pleasure and felt the
tense muscle-quivers.  Then Andy's tongue was washing the sensitive organs
and lapping upward to the massive cock, tracing the hardened under-cord,
finally reaching the glass-slick crown and drawing it into his mouth.

   "Keep goin'," Nick repeated hoarsely.  "Yeah, show me you can take it."

   Whispers seemed to be flowing into Andy, a voice that might have been
Steve's, sharing something like instructions that Andy could not quite
grasp--but, he realized, the instructions were intended for his body, not
Andy himself.  Yeah, Andy understood, from wherever he was, Steve was
somehow teaching him how to swallow a stud's meat, Nick's meat.  Andy's
body knew exactly what to do, how to pleasure that cock exactly the way
Nick wanted.  Andy realized that Steve was teaching him how to suck dick as
well as Terry--maybe even better!  Teaching him to suck like a fucking
sex-machine, and he understood.

   Andy simply watched as his mouth swallowed the first few inches.  The
fresh, light taste filled his awareness as his mouth pressed downward on
the solid shaft.  He had never sucked cock before--he had made sure the
guys before, even Terry, knew he only got sucked--but, yeah, he was
willing, too aroused to do anything else, and his sex-machine body had
learned how, and it worked slowly, moving his mouth down, trying to
accustom itself to the choking monster, letting Nick's meat press
inevitably deeper and deeper into his throat.

   Finally, Andy felt the coarse pubic hair brush against his lips, and
then Nick gripped the back of his head.  "Damn!" Nick jammed Andy's face
into his crotch, and Andy heard himself gag, just a bit, and Nick held him
there for a long, conquering moment before releasing him.  "Yeah, kid ...
Damn!"

   Andy's body jerked up, gulped for breath, and then it forced itself down
on the iron-rigid dick again, all the way to the base and held there.  Andy
felt Nick hunch forward over him, rubbing his hands over Andy's shoulders
and back, and he shivered as the palms reached his upturned ass and stroked
it meaningfully.  Andy's body raised his ass further to meet Nick's hands.

   "Okay," Nick muttered and pushed Andy's head away and sprawled back on
the bed, as a new set of instructions filled his sex-machine head.  "Get up
here next to me."

   Andy's mouth released the powerful cock, and his body pulled up on
all-fours, his own prick throbbing hard.  He watched as Nick twisted to
reach for something on the floor beside the cot, and when he swung back,
Nick's fingers were covered with a slick liquid.

   Andy understood what was coming next.  A nervous fear flickered through
him.  "Nick--" he managed to bleat, before the older telepath's influence
sedated him back into that calm distraction where he simply watched as
things happened.

   "Get your butt up here," Nick said aloud, and the sudden sound of his
voice surprised Andy for a moment.  But his body was already adjusting its
all-fours stance closer beside Nick, offering up his tight-curved tail. 
Numb, Andy watched over his shoulder as the man smeared the liquid on his
soaring cock.  Nick turned and reached his hand into the narrow cleft in
Andy's ass, and then Nick's lubricant-coated fingers glided across the taut
anal passage.

   Andy felt his asshole clench for a moment as Nick smeared the sudden
coolness over it.  Nick's experienced finger-strokes seemed to be
hypnotizing Andy's sphincter, soothing it and making it feel like opening,
wider and wider.  Andy's whole body seemed to relax, as if readying for
what would come, the moment Nick's finger changed its angle and pushed into
his hole.  He had expected Nick would mount him and slam that cock into his
asshole and ride him hard and fast, but Nick was a slow-and-steady bastard
instead, rubbing Andy's back with one hand and finger-fucking him with the
other.  Nick probed the puckered flesh-ring carefully, then withdrew and
gripped Andy's slim buns, spreading them, guiding his full-swollen rod
inward.

   "Yeah, you're gonna get yourself fucked," Nick growled as he centered
his cock-head on the opening, pressed, eased and pressed again, then thrust
strongly.  "Might hurt a little at first, but tough it out and it'll start
feelin' real good.  You're gonna like it."

   A jolt of pain-colored lightning tore through Andy's body as the iron
penetrated the hole, but the pain seemed to come from somewhere far away.
*Bastard*, he thought half-heartedly at Nick, more because he expected he
should be fighting the intrusion than from any hurt he felt.  Nick just
chuckled, his prick caught crown-deep in Andy's asshole.  *Bastard*, Nick
thought again.

   "Yup--and you'll get used to it," Nick snickered, slipping his arms
about the youth, locking against him spoon-style.  "Damn, your butt is
tight!" Then he looked toward the doorway.  "Steve, c'mon in here."

   The door opened, and the tall blond came in, naked and grinning, hard
cock bobbing as he walked.  "Pack's got Terry all laid-out.  He's gettin'
the kid's ass warmed up for you." Andy sensed Nick's telepathy flaring, a
connection being reestablished.  Steve grunted, short and quick, and Andy
saw his friend's expression go soft.  He realized Nick was in control of
Steve, and--and--Andy felt the rest of that thought slip away.

   "Terry'll keep a little longer.  C'mere."

   Andy remembered what he had been too distracted to notice that morning:
Pack sitting on the edge of Terry's bed, and Terry's mind-dazed expression.
So Terry was going to join the Wolves too?  Both of them would be safe from
Stoker's Dragons?

   "Want to plug him, Steve?" Nick was talking to the blond but staring at
Andy, cold and hard.  "Want to be the next one to fuck your friend's tight
ass?"

   "Hell, yeeeah!" Steve groggy-drawled.  Still grinning, his eyes narrowed
hungrily on the youth, and he fumbled at his erection.  "Been waitin' a
long time to get my prick into that tight little butt!"

   "You'll have to wait a while longer--his ass belongs to me for now.  You
can take his mouth."

   Andy froze; he had never sucked a cock other than Nick's moments before.
Still on all-fours, he watched Steve climb onto the narrow mattress in
front of him, closing in on his head.  He had seen his friend naked a few
times before--sure, when Steve snuck him into the main gym for a workout
and they changed clothes in the locker area, when they shared Terry's
cock-sucking mouth that one time, crap like that--tanned, muscle-thick
build, barreled chest washed with golden hair, heavy-hanging cock.  But
Andy had never seen his friend's intimidating erection so close-up. 
*Shit!* Andy thought, as that big dick pointed toward his lips.  Andy felt
Steve's telepathy slip into his mind alongside Nick's, too late to stop it,
a connection renewed, and Andy managed to gulp once for breath before that
distracted feeling finished separating him from being in control of his
sex-machine body yet again.  He thought, *Damn it, Steve*, but his friend
seemed out of reach.

   Steve's cock-head nudged his jaw, and Andy felt his mouth open; his
tongue emerged to wash Steve's cock-head, sensitive by the way Steve moaned
in response, and he tasted the tang of Steve's maleness, and then Andy was
licking down on the taut shaft.  And now the time had come to open wide,
and Steve's cock-head slid through his lips and across his tongue.  Steve
was building on that distracted feeling in Andy.  He found he had Steve's
dick almost buried in his mouth, and he realized how easily--how
willingly--his sex-machine had taken it.  His body drew back as best it
could, caught between Nick's cock behind him and Steve's in front, then
plunged forward to the hilt on Steve's and held there, and Andy heard his
friend gasp and felt Steve rock forward to grip his shoulders.

   Nick did something.  From the distant place where Andy observed what was
happening to his body, he sensed the pain-stab in his ass subsiding, felt
his straining muscle-ring relax, and then his machine-body was adjusting
itself to Nick's powerful invader, fully accepting it.  Andy could not
decide what to make of the crazy sensation, part pain, part pleasant
fullness, and little bursts of an electric pleasure--not at all what he had
expected--and he felt himself get lost, distracted from his ass by the
sensation of Nick's fingers reaching under and wandering back and forth
across his sleek-arched chest.

   Steve's cock jumped in Andy's mouth, and Andy's body held still until
his friend's rigid prick was buried in his throat.  He realized his mouth
had worked down on the rigid flesh-column, and now his lips were meeting
Steve's pubic hair.  Andy understood how to suction the full length
carefully, and from his distant place he liked the idea that he could make
the older youth squirm and gasp with pleasure.  Yeah, Steve was hot to have
his meat sucked and was enjoying what Andy was doing.

   Nick shifted his position, angling his body forward, bending Andy's hips
up to follow.  Nick fucked with firm, deep strokes, as he muttered a string
of dirty words and nonsense syllables.

   Andy thought: *Does this mean I'm in the Wolves now, Chief?*

   Nick picked up the thought and answered out loud.  "Shit, takin' my dick
up your rear and Steve's in your throat don't mean you're tough enough to
get along with the rest of the guys.  You still got a long way to go to
prove yourself, and the weekend's just gettin' started."

   Nick pumped slowly, in no hurry, dragging his rod almost all the way out
and driving in again, taking his time in building up the conquering rhythm.
Andy felt his body shift back against the rigid male-shaft that dug deeper
into his guts, and his body trembled, accepting its new owner, then held
still again.

   *Damn it, Nick!*

   Andy could not see Nick's face behind him, but the older telepath's
smirk was audible: *Change your mind?*

   Was Nick offering a last chance to back out?--Or was he asking for
permission.  Andy's answer was the same: *Do it, you son of a bitch!*

   Nick slid one hand down into the youth's crotch and fingered his cock,
which hung semi-limp from the strain of taking his first fuck and giving
his second blow-job.  Andy felt his flaccid meat start to stiffen in Nick's
hand.  The thrusts became faster and more powerfully, and Andy felt a
feral, demanding heat well up inside his sex-machine.  Nick's arms locked
about him, and Steve's fingers dug into his shoulders, and Andy writhed
beneath their impassioned onslaught.

   *Shit*, the chief hissed in Andy's mind, *nobody here gives a shit about
anybody who ain't one of the Wolves.  Yeah, we look out for each other,
have sex together, all that shit, but the main thing is to get along 'til
your training's done, get yourself a good field assignment, and get out of
here as easy as you can.  None of you guys in the gang mean nothin', to me.
You best remember that.*

   In spite of what Nick said, Andy decided the chief seemed to care a
great deal about the guys in the gang, like a family, seemed to have fallen
naturally into the role of leader and guide.

   But before Andy could say so, Nick clenched his fingers, Andy's
semi-hard cock in one hand, his balls in the other and Nick's voice was a
threatening growl: *Get your ass all the way down on my prick, kid.* Andy's
sex-machine body pressed back and trembled involuntarily as the man's rod
drove base-deep into his asshole.  Nick began a slow, overwhelming
hip-pump, driving his stiff cock into Andy's guts, then withdrawing
steadily, again and again, holding Andy's body in place and fucking his
butt, dog-style.

   Andy's body had a hard-on--no, he could no longer pretend this was just
his body and not fully him--*he* was sucking and getting fucked and *he*,
all of him, had a hard-on.  No hiding his burning arousal now, not that he
ever could have hidden anything from Nick or Steve while they were
connected in his head.  Andy wanted to grip the mattress beneath him.  He
wanted to push his butt back hard to meet Nick's strokes and his mouth
forward on Steve's rod.  Nick and Steve might have been conquering his
mouth and ass, but Andy would show them he was not some passive loser-kid.
He would share their victory, show them he could take it like a man!

   Nick snickered, *Yeah, that's the spirit*, and he pumped a little
faster, keeping Andy caught between the plunging monster in his tail, the
fingers taunting his genitals, and the erection piercing his mouth.

   Yeah, his ass buzzed with sensation, and Andy was finding pleasure in
the back and forth of Nick's thick cock sliding across the sensitive
nerves, and he was even enjoying the feel of Steve's cock embedded in his
mouth.  Nick's squeezed and stroked Andy's full-hard erection.  Something
caught in Andy's dick--*No--Not yet--Yeah--Fuck, yeah*--definitely that
familiar spark.

   *Finish it, you bastards!* Andy thought at Steve and especially at Nick.
*C'mon!  Finish it!  Yeah!* Andy felt the surging pressure, the fury rising
in his balls, the unexpected heat filling him, unstoppable, the
pleasure-fury driving him toward climax.  *Damn it, chief, I'm cumming!*

   Andy writhed as his orgasm began, the world erupting with ecstasy, and
he felt Nick clamp his hips orgasm-hard against him, felt Steve's prick
quiver and convulse and spurt deep inside him, Andy's own cum already
spewing out, and then his body was crashing down flat on the bunk, pinned
beneath the two men's naked bodies, gasping and groaning in climax.  Andy
shook all over, soaring and plummeting through his release, time standing
still, nothing but euphoria, and then his body went limp, lost in the
draining bliss.

   Andy became aware of the men weighing him down, the arms locked about
him, the fingers gripping his sperm-soaked genitals.  Steve's cock was gone
from his mouth, but Nick's still-firm dick remained wedged into his numb,
strained ass.  He was back in his body, his own again, getting used to the
feel of his newly stretched jaw, newly stretched ass.  At some point as he
drifted, still afterglow-dazed, Andy has been aware of Nick doing something
neat and quick in the depths of his mind, like flipping a switch, though
Andy could not grasp exactly what.  Now, Nick's presence in his head was
gone and Steve's began to fade, fading faster, and for what seemed like
hours, none of them moved.  Then Nick eased one hand free, grabbed a towel
from the floor, and jammed it against Andy's ribs.  "Don't get that mess
all over the damn bunk," Nick grumbled and pulled up on his hands and
knees, dragging his heavy prong from Andy's protesting ass.  Freed, Nick
swiped the towel across Andy's buttocks and swung to his feet.  "Catch your
breath, kid, while I go clean up."

   Andy lay still, listening to Nick cross to the bathroom, then the gush
of the shower starting.  Somehow Steve had already disappeared, and Andy
was alone on the bunk.  He waited a long moment, then eased over on his
back, stared up at the ceiling.  Strength crept back into his weary body,
and he reached down to finger his cum-damp prick, remembering how Steve
fucked his throat, how Nick's cock felt sliding in his ass, and how Nick
held his cock when Andy popped--and how the two sons of bitches unloaded in
his throat and up his butt at the same time.  "Bastards!" he murmured
quietly.  "Fuckin' bastards!" But, he admitted to himself, the experience
could have been worse.  Yeah, Nick had taken what he wanted, but he made
sure Andy felt the plenty of pleasure and minimized the pain.  That was
more than Andy could have hoped for at the hands of Stoker and his
gang-fucking Dragons.  Yeah, Steve had fucked his face, but he made sure
Andy knew enough about sucking cock to not choke and could enjoy what was
happening.  Andy acknowledged that he *had* enjoyed it.  And if the rest of
the Wolves treated him like Nick and Steve had-

   Andy snapped back to the present when he heard the shower stop, then the
rasp of a towel against bare skin, and soon Nick sauntered back into the
room, naked and cock-swinging.

   "How's your ass?"

   "Sore."

   Andy sensed immediately that complaining about his ass was the wrong
thing to say, but Nick simply nodded.  "You'll get used to it." He
stretched his shoulder.  "Your first fuck?"

   "Yeah.  First blow-jobs too--giving, I mean." Andy watched the man cross
to the bed.  "Getting fucked wasn't as rough as I thought it'd be."

   "You sure popped hard when you came." Nick nodded to the youth's exposed
genitals.  "You seemed to like gettin' a dick plugged into your tail."

   "It was okay, I guess, but I think I'd rather do the plugging." Andy
surveyed the athletic-built man as he settled on the side of the bed.  Andy
grinned.  "I wouldn't mind plowing you, chief, or Steve too."

   "Cocky little bastard," Nick muttered with a snicker.  "I like that, a
kid who's kinda--" He broke off and patted the blanket next to Andy.  "The
empty bunk for the new guy in the gang--you're lyin' on it right now."

   Andy inhaled deeply.  "I'll be your roommate?"

   "Don't get the wrong idea--you'll suck my cock, lick my balls, get
fucked, anything I want, any time I want--and if you screw up, I'll kick
the shit out of you.  You'll belong to the gang, and every guy in the gang
belongs to me." Deliberately, he thrust his presence into Andy's mind and
wrapper-gripped his thoughts, not doing anything but holding them and
letting Andy feel Nick's strength inside his head.  "And none of you
assholes means nothin' to me; remember that."

   They stared at each other in silence, and then Andy tried to mimic what
Nick was doing, sending his own thoughts into Nick's head and trying to
hold his presence around the chief's thoughts, trying to match the
intensity of Nick's grip on his own mind.  Doing so was trickier than he
expected, another reminder that he sorely needed training to help him learn
to use his Talent.

   "I'm going to be chief," Andy said quietly.  "Before I leave this damn
Institute, I'll be chief of the Wolves."

   Andy felt Nick probing at his telepathic grip around the older man's
mind, and then Nick applied just the slightest additional steady pressure
around Andy's thoughts.  "Steve'll probably take over when I get my field
assignment and leave this hole.  Then he's got another year before his
training ends.  When he goes--maybe--if you're tough enough."

   "You'll see to it that I'm tough enough.  Yeah, you'll make sure of
that."

   Nick looked up and Andy met his gaze evenly, and the chief nodded,
hiding his grin by snorting.  "Steve was right.  You're a cocky little
bastard."

   "And I'm going to be chief," Andy repeated quietly, and then he broke
into smile.  "Hey, you're like Steve.  I mean--well, he's been sorta like a
big brother, telling me about how things really work around here--looking
out for me--know what I mean?"

   "Yeah, I know what you mean." Nick released the youth's mind, and his
expression was unreadable as he looked down and traced his fingers over
Andy's relaxed genitals.  "You've got a lot to learn, kid."

   "Such as?"

   "Well, for one: when you and another guy got your thoughts inside each
other's minds, and he lets go"--Andy felt Nick's telepathy push him firmly
out of the older youth's head--"you go ahead and bust his mind hard, while
you've got the chance.  You show him who's boss, if you want to be chief,
like you could've just showed me."

   "Hell, Nick, I'd be a real son of a bitch if I busted at your mind when
you--"

   "Yeah, you've got a lot to learn." Nick swung to his feet, naked and
strong-muscled and relaxed.  "Ready to get fucked again?"

   Andy looked up at the brawny chief and his limp-hanging cock, and he was
sure Nick would not be able to get hard and ram him again, not so soon; but
for some reason, Andy could not make a joke about it.  "Uh, my ass is still
pretty sore."

   Nick's telepathy broadcast something that, this time, Andy could
overhear and interpret: *Pack, get your ass in here.*

   Andy froze.  The door opened, and Steve's roommate Pack came in, naked
and grinning, followed by another youth Andy had never seen.  "Terry's all
relaxed and ready to meet his new chief.  That kid sure knows how to
fuck--got an ass like a bear-trap.  Steve's in there with him now." Pack's
grin widened as he looked at naked, fucked-out Andy.  "Looks like you got
this one all broken in too, huh?  Damn, Nick, Steve was sure this one was
gonna put up a hell of a fight."

   "Nothing I couldn't handle." Nick stepped in front of Andy, still quiet
and cold.  He growled, "Welcome to the Wolves, kid," and Andy experienced a
powerful lurch of loyalty--so like love, an absolute certainty that he
would do anything for his brother-Wolves, anything for his chief, and he
understood what Nick had done in his mind during the afterglow. 
Understood--and liked it.  But Nick's expression was still bastard-cold. 
"You still gotta prove yourself to the rest of the whole gang, punk, before
it's official.  Now assume the fuckin' position!" Andy felt compelled onto
all-fours again, arousal prickling his skin.  Nick reached across Andy's
waist to grip his ass cheeks and spread them.  "Still think you're tough
enough, kid?  We're gonna spend the whole weekend findin' out.  Move in,
Pack.  Take over here."

   "You got it, Chief."

   Andy felt the other two men slide onto the bed, but he could not move.
His mind was slipping away, simply watching as his sex-machine body took
over again, went back into automatic mode.  Pack slid in front of Andy's
mouth, like Steve had done, offering his medium-long erection to be sucked.
His wood smelled of sex and cum.  Andy realized Terry had given up his ass
already too--realized too he was about to suck the cock that had just been
up Terry's ass.  He hoped Pack had treated Terry well, at least as well as
Nick treated him--the cock-sucker was a good kid--and Terry would learn
too--they would both learn together.

   The other guy eased in behind him, where Nick had fucked him earlier. 
Andy felt the flesh-hardness of the guy's cock nudge against his ass and
his hips angled, preparing to receive the invader, just as Pack's cock-head
touched his lips and Andy's mouth opened in response.  Just before the
cocoon of distraction was complete, Andy thought at both of them, and at
Nick: *You bastards!  You damn--*

   "Yeah, you're learnin', kid," Nick snickered.

   The other guy's long, slim cock pierced into Andy's sore asshole.  Andy
opened his mouth to Pack's dick too and tasted musky maleness.  Yeah,
thanks to Steve, Andy knew his body understood exactly what to do, how to
move his ass back against the other guy's dick even as his lips sank around
Pack's: Andy's second-ever time getting fucked and third time giving a
blow-job.  Yeah, everything felt good.  Andy loved the new and eager hunger
fueling his body, loved the certainty that he would do anything for his
brother-Wolves, loved the way he could use his body to make his brothers
feel good too.  Yeah, he was learning.
"I'm gonna go see to your buddy Terry," Nick announced to Andy.  "Gonna
work up a good appetite before breakfast." He watched a moment longer
before chuckling as he started toward the door.  "Looks like you might be
sharin' that bunk with a second new member, kid, when one of the gang don't

have one of you in his bed for the night."

   *Bastards!* Andy thought at no one in particular, but happily, as his
arms clung to Pack's hips.  Andy experienced, as if from a distance, the
brutally hard head of the other guy's meat-bat digging past his raw-scraped
opening, and the pull as Pack's thick rod stretched his jaw.  That familiar
distancing feeling had separated his mind from his body again.  But his
body was also experiencing something else, a craving for the sex that was
to come, and Andy decided he liked this hunger, like being kid-horny but
stronger, more--more what?--more adult-ready, more *him*.  Yeah, he
decided, all he had to do was sit back for now and let his sex-machine body
do what Steve had telepathically trained it to do.  He would watch and
learn so he could do it for himself, without Steve's guidance, and he would
show them--he would learn to fuck and to take a good, hard fuck, and he
would learn to be as good a cock-sucker as Terry, maybe even better, and
learn to bust a guy's mind when he needed to.  Yeah, Andy decided, he would
learn.  And he would learn to be chief too.

   * * *