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From the Archives: Holiday 7
🕑 Added 2024-02-01 19:32:16 +0000 UTC*** This was posted as a vignette last year (maybe around this time?) Enjoy! ***
Avery took a deep breath and stepped off the edge of the roof. He’d allowed himself a brief moment to enjoy the view of the city below, a bustling sea of neon in the perpetual night that was Holiday 7. Flashing billboards, glowing signs, the clockwork chaos of carefully controlled traffic on primitively paved streets; from his vantage point atop the towering casino, it had been like watching bioluminescent plankton. None of it was real, that was the whole point of the Holiday Stations, but there was beauty in the artificial if you knew how to look for it.
Avery had always excelled at seeing things most people overlooked, a skill that made him invaluable in a place like Holiday 7. Unlike the mellow tropics of Holiday 6, or the snowy Alpine peaks of Holiday 4, the station’s purpose was to replicate the casino-clad glory days of Old Vegas. The city itself had been gone for centuries, its desert home now an irradiated wasteland, but its spirit lived on in the stars. Or, at least what people assumed to be its spirit. Records from that era were spotty after the Big Collapse, and much of the station’s aesthetics were guesswork.
But people didn’t shuttle themselves through the stars for an historically accurate recreation of a city that hadn’t existed for almost a thousand years. They didn’t care if a building from the 1950s stood next to one from the 1970s, or if the archaic vehicles were period-appropriate; they were there for the fun. Holiday 7 was where you went when you wanted to cut loose, to indulge, to feel a thrill. If outdated concepts like religion had been as prevalent as they once were, it would be called a station of sin. Every pleasure, no matter how niche or taboo, was available for a price. Or a wager. Holiday 7 wasn’t a family-friendly destination, it was an endless party in the endless void of space, the plentiful shadows of an endless, artificial night hiding its voluminous vice from prying eyes.
The unending night was useful for hiding other things as well, like Avery’s sleek form sliding down the side of the Golden Lady. His matte null-suit absorbed ambient light and sound, making him little more than a silent pool of darkness to anyone not looking directly at him, and a black-market grav-harness turned what would have been a fatal fall into a controlled descent. Both pieces of tech were outlawed on the station, as anything that interfered with the immersion created by the artificial environment was deemed illegal. It was one of the few rules actually enforced. While other Holiday Stations allowed for anti-grav and all the conveniences of modern living, Holiday 7 worked hard to maintain its retro feel. The ads said it was for authenticity, but anyone who saw the city for what it was knew better: Life was easier for the people who ran things when their rivals could only get at them from a few dimensions. Terrestrial physics made for better security, and with the sheer amount of money, drugs, and tech on the station, security was a must. Avery was proof of that. He’d pulled a job at every major casino on the station and was one of the best, it’s why Dino paid him so well, and why he would’ve been launched out an airlock if not for his boss’s protection.
All the major houses went after each other, but there were rules to follow in the station-wide game of cat and mouse. Open warfare was bad for business across the board, so jobs had to be subtle and covert. No killing. No massive property damage. Nothing messy. If one house was able to breach another’s security without crossing any of the red lines, their spoils were seen as earned. It was a lesson for the victimized house, and one they would be sure to repay in kind. Avery knew they were bending those rules and skirting those lines with the smuggled tech, but like everything else that happened on the station it was a roll of the dice, big stakes with big rewards for anyone brave, or foolish, enough to take the bet.
Avery liked to think of himself as a bit of both, the perfect combination of brains and bravado. He was never the smartest guy in the room, nor the most foolhardy, but, like his current job, he’d never brushed up against a boundary that he didn’t test. Knowing how far to take things, and when to back off, was what really counted, a skill that came naturally to the charming thief. He’d spent most of the past three decades getting into, and then talking his way out of, trouble. Like his effervescent personality, Avery’s physical attributes were a perfect blend of rugged brawn and pretty features. He’d come to Holiday 7 nearly a decade earlier like so many others, on the run from some terrestrial troubles and hoping to get lost amongst the stars. His easy smile, dimpled chin, razor cheekbones, and wavy mahogany hair had quickly landed him a spot behind the bar in one of Dino’s smaller establishments. And when word spread of how efficiently he handled the misbehaving drunks he couldn’t talk down, he was promoted to security at the prestigious Fortune’s Royale. Deceptively lean, Avery’s broad-shouldered frame was as strong as someone twice his size, a combination of agility and power that was tailor made for slipping in and out of tight spots.
His partial plummet down the side of the Golden Lady was a prime example. Blending in with the crowd and obfuscating his presence on the way to the roof had been simple enough, but controlling the modified, after-market grav harness was another matter entirely. It tapped into the station’s network of artificial gravity and allowed the wearer to redirect it on a localized level. In a pinch, the harness could suspend it altogether, but not for long. Avery had practiced for weeks with the neural interface, and while he’d have the hangover to end all hangovers tomorrow, it should at least keep him from ending up as a smear on the sidewalk.
The trick, as always, was in knowing how far he could push it. The harness only had a limited power supply, and the more he veered from the station's settings, the greater the draw. Sliding down the sheer side of a casino was a simple enough matter of splitting the focal point between the ground and the building, but the real challenge came in crossing the gap from the Golden Lady to his intended target, the King of Diamonds. Avery not only had to time things perfectly to ensure that he landed near the access vent on the side of the King, he needed to simultaneously kick off the side of the Lady while suspending gravity long enough to get close, but with enough left in the tank to still cling to the side of the King. If he tried to anchor to the building without being close enough the harness wouldn’t tether at all, meaning he’d run out of power midair, and if he did it too soon he’d slam into the side as if he’d plummeted straight down. So he needed to thread the spatial needle and kick off with enough force to get him across the broad avenue as quickly as possible. He’d only have a few seconds of power once he landed on the other side, and he’d still have to get the access vent open.
The first part was easy enough. Seeing his mark, Avery drew his athletic legs up and shifted gravity fully to the building at his side. There was a moment of disorientation as his world seemed to turn on its head, but he rolled with it, riding the shifting momentum and launching himself as hard as he could into the void. His head throbbed as the harness plucked him from the station’s gravity and he could already feel it heating up, but the force of his kick had been sufficient. Avery once again drew his legs up as the opposing facade drew near, pushing the harness to its limit as he waited until the last possible moment to tether. He landed like a floating shadow, and though he felt like someone was trying to punch their way out of his skull he wasted no time in popping the grate.
It was a simple matter of using a handheld plasma torch as no one at the King expected a vent hundreds of feet in the air to be a vulnerable opening. The towering structure, complete with its crown-shaped upper floors, was a fortress, making the Golden Lady seem like an open park by comparison. Avery knew he would have been spotted instantly had he tried a more direct route, even with a holo-disguise, which is why he had to do things the hard way. The downside of being so good at his job was that everyone knew him and was constantly on the lookout, so when a building had eyes and ears like the King, his options were severely limited. He had to be invisible and fast, getting in and out before anyone knew he was even there. If his intel was correct, the office with the data stick he needed wouldn’t be far from the vent, so his plan was to pop out, grab it, and exit the way he’d entered. He had just enough juice left in the harness to drop down the side of the building the old-fashioned way and stop himself right before impact. It would still be a jarring landing, undoubtedly setting off the very proximity alarms that prevented him from scaling the building in the process. Luckily the null-suit covered him from head-to-toe, and once he was on the open streets he’d be a ghost, so while Cyril could suspect him all he wanted, the rival Boss would have no proof.
Assuming it all went to plan. So far, Avery had been lucky. He slid into the vent and crept his way inside, his suit absorbing every sound. It wouldn’t be a blindspot to the cameras, though, and even if he avoided them the cold spot on the building-wide thermal sensors would be caught sooner rather than later, meaning the clock was already ticking. But he’d studied the maps enough to find his way blindfolded, and the hallway was empty when he reached it, another stroke of luck.
Avery gracefully extricated himself from the vent, his taut, muscled frame proving surprisingly nimble as he uncoiled like an athletic serpent towards the floor. He was already springing forward on the balls of his feet as soon as he made contact, the office he sought only a few yards away. Like the vent schematics, his source had provided him with details on what locks the King used, so he already had his omni-key pre-programmed and in his hand. The door popped open as easily and silently as he’d hoped, but the sight of the golden-haired hunk sitting behind the desk in the dim light, his hulking body backlit by the neon ocean beyond the glass wall, made it clear his luck had officially run out.
“Right on time,” Cyril purred as Avery’s world went dark.
**********
Waking up was a more interesting experience than usual for the groggy thief. After running into the Big Boss himself, Avery was slightly surprised to find himself coming to at all. There may have been rules against killing, but it wasn’t unheard of for folks to simply go missing. And then there was the process itself, not a seamless transition from slumber to awareness, but a sensation of being torn from one place to another. Avery’s mind felt as if it was being stretched like taffy, a nasty side effect that he blamed either on the grav harness hangover or whatever Cyril had used to render him unconscious.
Most surprising, though, was where Avery found himself. Instead of a dirty alley or a cluttered back room, the buff burglar awoke to plush surroundings. He was tucked beneath a soft sheet on a broad bed, with a 180 degree view of the station below through a curved, clear wall. A fireplace crackled on the wall opposite the foot of the bed, and a variety of stylish chairs and wardrobes peppered the space in between. Based on the room’s vantage point Avery knew he was in the crown-shaped upper level, but it never occurred to him exactly whose room he was in until he heard Cyril’s deep, velvet voice.
“Did you have a nice sleep?”
Avery sat up slowly, resting back against the velvet headboard. He’d felt his lack of clothing before he’d even opened his eyes, but he appeared perfectly casual as he let the sheet fall tantalizingly low on his hips. He even folded his muscled arms behind his head for emphasis, showing off the sculpted pecs and ripped washboard that were dusted with a wiry coating the same color as his thick, mahogany hair. “Hard not to in a bed like this. Yours?” Despite his calm demeanor, Avery’s eyes never left Cyril as the blonde giant sauntered into the room. He stood nearly six and a half feet tall, a solid six inches above Avery, with a body like a slab of marble. His neck was a wide stub, his shoulders like melons, and the pecs that strained against his casually unbuttoned shirt were so large that he could crush objects between them. His sleeves were the size of a normal person’s pant legs, yet still his arms threatened to tear free, while the baggy linen bottoms themselves clung to his ample rear and pylon thighs. The massive man’s mere presence was almost overwhelmingly intimidating, a fact that was only enhanced by his strikingly beautiful face. Based on how long he’d been on the station himself, Avery knew that Cyril had to be almost twice his age, yet the handsome hulk looked no more than a few years older, if that. His unnaturally golden hair was thick and wavy, his tanned skin smooth and unblemished, with a face that was far more refined than his rugged build would suggest. Bright eyes, distinguished nose, plump lips, sharp cheeks and jaw; Beauty from the neck up, Beast from below.
The blonde demigod nodded. “Not many people get to see inside…”
“...and live,” Avery interrupted, raising an eyebrow.
Cyril let out a loud laugh, his smooth voice the same mix of gentle granite that was the rest of him. “So dramatic. How would that work? I just fuck out in the living room,” he said, pointing a giant thumb over his shoulder towards the door. “Or maybe only in my office? Or do you think I dispose of all my partners afterwards? Is that what people are saying about me?”
Avery shook his head, choosing his words carefully. “Just a little surprised to find myself in here, all things considered.”
Cyril gave a sympathetic nod as he sat near the foot of the bed, his weight causing even the custom mattress to dip considerably. “I know it’s hard to imagine for someone my size, but I’ve never been fond of unnecessary aggression. It’s a tool of the weak,” he said, letting a massive hand drift against Avery’s shin through the sheet. “And so wasteful.”
“No disagreement there,” the naked thief said, flashing his most charming smile as he met Cyril’s gaze. He hadn’t anticipated fucking his way out of this one, but as far as partners went he could certainly do worse.
“After all, it’s not every day that someone is gifted with a visit from THE Avery Chance,” he continued, his hand slowly sliding up towards the other man’s knee. “I’ve long admired your work. Honestly. The grav harness? The null suit? I know Dino isn’t smart enough to come up with something like that on his own. Merely acquiring them must have taken months, let alone mastering the harness the way you clearly did. It’s inspiring. Though I wish the circumstances were different, it’s always a joy to watch a master craftsman.” He paused and gave the other man’s athletic frame a deliberate look up and down, his eyes lingering on Avery’s bare torso. “Our paths were bound to cross, and now that they have…let’s just say I’m not disappointed.”
“I make it a personal mission to never leave anyone disappointed if I can help it,” Avery said, letting the giant look for as long as he wanted. Now that he was relatively certain he wasn’t facing immediate destruction, the mahogany-haired hunk was starting to like where things were headed. “I’m nothing if not thorough,” he purred.
“I’d expect nothing less,” Cyril grinned, his hand now on Avery’s thigh. “See? This is what I meant earlier. I could have had my staff beat you within an inch of your life and send you back to Dino in pieces. Or we could have dropped you into the incinerator. But it would have been such a waste of brains and beauty,” he cooed, slowly pulling the sheet low. Avery’s expression never wavered as his thick cock was exposed, flopped over a muscled thigh. The plump organ twitched as Cyril’s huge fingers drifted close, remaining just out of reach. “It’s rare to see both in such equal measure. And the sheer moxie…it takes some big balls to do what you do.”
Avery’s confident grin finally wavered when an unfamiliar throbbing erupted at his core. His impressive cock twitched again, but it wasn’t the girthy organ that suddenly swelled. Avery swallowed hard, feeling his practiced demeanor slipping through his fingers as he stared at the balls that had inflated like grapefruits. “What…just happened,” he finally said, the shock creeping into his voice.
Cyril stroked the distended orbs with the tip of a finger. “No need to panic. Here…is this better?”
“HHHOOUUUHHHH!” Avery spasmed and howled, his cock rocketing to life. The hefty organ began oozing almost immediately, the naked hunk’s body suddenly teetering on the edge or a riotous release. Despite the rapid rush of ecstasy his throbbing loins never crossed the line, leaving him riding wave after wave of blissful intensity. “Oh…oh fuuuuuuck,” he moaned, his jaw dropping. “What…what is this?!”
Cyril scooped up a bead of the oozing liquid and gave it a taste. “Don’t you know pleasure when you see it, boy?”
Avery’s stomach dropped at the phrase. Pleasure Boy. Even through the erotic haze he knew what it meant, and what he’d become. “You…you didn’t…” he stammered, surprised to feel the sensation of his heart racing when there wasn’t one in the first place.
“Oh, but I did,” Cyril purred as Avery’s cock began growing to match his churning balls. In a matter of seconds the plump, eight-inch log had become a fourteen-inch club as thick as the heaving man’s forearm. “Waste not, want not.”
Avery’s mind raced to keep up with what he was hearing. Fortunately the panic was kept at bay by the incessant tides of ecstasy, but they also made focus nearly impossible. He was stuck in the split second moment just before release, a blissful prison like the form he now inhabited. His body wasn’t actually being altered the way he thought because the thing housing his consciousness wasn’t his body. It was a malleable, nanite husk. Pleasures of the flesh were just as prominent on Holiday 7 as everything else, but simple sexbots had long since become archaic. No matter how advanced the programming they couldn’t quite live up to the real thing, which is how the Pleasure People came to be. There were still old-fashioned, traditional sex workers on the station, but the ones that brought in the big money were what Avery had just become. His real body was somewhere else, left in stasis while his consciousness was beamed into the moldable husk. Avery regularly paid for the services of Pleasure Boys, Pleasure Girls, and Pleasure People who were both and neither. They were everywhere around the station, strutting through each of the casinos in alternatingly revealing or extravagant outfits that showed off whatever unique proportions they sported at the time. Avery had known on a logical level that they experienced the world through the husk the same as they did through their flesh-and-bone body, but experiencing it firsthand was another matter entirely. “It…it feels so real…” he moaned, immediately regretting his choice of words.
“Because it is. See for yourself,” Cyril nodded as Avery began desperately groping his squirming frame.
The moaning hunk had to keep reminding himself that it wasn’t actually his body as he tweaked a nipple and felt the soft, ruddy hair coating his chest. The oozing log spilling out of his palm was another story, the impossible sensation making his head spin. Though he could now technically look like anyone, could become almost any shape or size, the husk defaulted to a person’s regular perception of themselves. Waking up in a completely different shape, or undergoing too dramatic a transformation too soon, had a nasty habit of breaking people’s minds. They needed to be eased into things, to adjust to minor changes as they got their bearings over time, not have their package immediately bloated beyond recognition. “I…don’t…suppose we could…talk about…this…” he panted.
“Oh, I anticipate we’ll talk plenty. I’ve heard about how charming you are, and I look forward to many stimulating conversations. When you’re not working, that is,” Cyril sighed. “Unfortunately, given your notoriety and impressive looks, not to mention how many people on this station will be eager to take advantage of your current circumstances, I don’t think you’ll have much free time.” He gave Avery’s thigh an encouraging squeeze as he spoke. “You’re about to make me a very large sum of money, my beautiful boy. And you’ll serve as a warning for anyone else who thinks it’s a good idea to try their luck. Don’t worry about that body of yours, either. It’s tucked safely away. You know, it’s incredible what they can do with signal boosters these days.”
Avery’s stomach dropped further. The implication was clear. Wherever Cyril had his body stored, it wasn’t on the station, which meant any hope of rescue was a vain one. Dino valued his services, but not enough to scour the stars, which meant he was on his own. The realization dawned at the exact moment that Cyril let him fall over the edge, his vision blurring from the intensity of the release. He could hear himself whining and moaning, could feel the warm, copious eruptions splattering against him, his addled head spinning as it occurred to him he’d never felt so good. Even when his vision cleared and he saw the petite little nub his recently-mammoth package had become, the buzz never faded.
And Avery knew it likely never would. He looked up to see a pair of Cyril’s enforcers standing in the doorway, but the embarrassment he expected over being covered in cum and sporting a ridiculously small cock never came. He struggled to his feet when the blonde giant motioned for him to stand, getting another taste of things to come when his balance suddenly shifted. There was another rush of pressure, and Avery gasped when his thighs began to widen, matching the massive, bouncing cheeks that hung behind.
“You’re ass men, right,” Cyril laughed to the enforcers. “Go get him cleaned up and situated with some panties, then put him to work.”
