I’m led from my cell for another checkup. When I get to his office Binauld is clearly nervous but also excited—he won’t stop talking. I put my finger on his lips to get him to shut up. He has more bread for me and a tin of some kind of meat product.

This time I don’t bother putting on the robe after showering. Binauld moves his hands all over my body and is more brave this time with my privates—he even inserts his finger a little. While the pleasure comes I forget about where I am, and what I’ve done.

I return to reality—Binauld is sitting on one of the wooden chairs near the door and I retrieve the robe, wrap it around myself and lean back against the desk.

“Binauld, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you here? You don’t seem like the military type.”

He grabs the sides of the chair seat and fidgets. “Oh, uh, I was drafted. Oliot men have to join the army at age eighteen. For a ten year mandatory enlistment.”

My eyebrows raise. “Really? I can’t imagine.”

He looks dumbfounded. “You mean there’s no draft on Threa?”

“No, the military is completely voluntary.”

“Wow, I had no idea… I was lucky my aptitude scores were high enough that I could train to be a medic. Otherwise I’d probably be on the front lines right now. Or dead.”

He seems lost in thought. “Cevs, what’s it like on Threa?”

“Pretty nice I guess. There are beautiful beaches and nature areas. Though most folks live in cities, like me.”

“Do you live in a dorm?”

I smile. “No. I live in an apartment with three roommates. They’re in a joint relationship together.”

Binauld gasps. “Three people in a relationship? A… sexual relationship?”

“Yeah. They’re pretty happy that way, it works for them.”

“I, I’ve never heard of anything like that. Here it would be strictly forbidden.”

“The Oliot are kind of uptight about that stuff, huh.”

He looks at his feet. “Anything atypical is illegal. That’s why you’re still wearing the clothes you came in—the guards know what you are and none of them wanted to search you! We are taught that intercourse is dirty and sinful. And bodies are something to be ashamed of.”

“That’s awful. Taking beautiful, exquisite things and making them ugly—for no good reason.”

I pause to think. “Binauld, you’ve never been with another person before… have you?”

“Um, no.” He has a pained look on his face.

That needs to be remedied right now. “Do me a favor, come over here.”

He looks up, surprised. He hesitantly stands and walks up to me.

I unbutton the first button on his shirt, then the second. His eyes get wide but he doesn’t stop me. I continue down his shirt until it falls open. I place my hand on his chest hair and stroke across slowly. He shudders. My hands move on to his pectorals, my fingers kneading his flesh. I touch his nipples and he gasps. I run my hands down his sternum, then along his ribs. When my fingers skim across his stomach I feel the muscles there twitch.

I lean over and kiss his nipple, then trace its outline with my tongue. He moans deeply. I take his nipple in my mouth and gradually begin to tongue it more forcefully. I reach up and mirror the action on his other nipple with my finger.

With my free hand I go to unbutton his trousers, but he jumps back and covers his crotch with his hand.

“Oh, you can’t, it would be wrong, you mustn’t see there, it’s not allowed…” The shame in his eyes is heartbreaking.

I’m determined though. “How about this: I’ll go behind you, I won’t see anything from back there.”

He thinks about this. “Uh, I don’t know, it might not be—”

I cut him off. “Let’s just try it.”

I stand and step behind him, pulling the chair up for me to sit on. I reach around his body and delicately slide the button on his waistband out of its buttonhole. His whole body twitches. I slowly unzip his trousers, I can see the fabric above his ass relax.

I pull his trousers and underwear down in one gradual motion. The waistband of his briefs catches on his skin and stutters on its way down. I reach around and lightly touch his testicles. He jumps a little. I touch them again, running my fingers underneath and then up and around. I massage them now and he utters a high-pitched moan. I’m cupping them in my hand, pulling lightly, kneading with my fingertips.

With my other hand I gently hold two fingers to either side of his erect cock at the base. My face is pressed into the shirt fabric hanging over his ass. I start moving my fingers slowly—it takes a full minute for them to move up his shaft to the tip. His muscles spasm. I then move my hand down his dick equally slowly, but this time only touching the top.

I get more vigorous with his balls, manipulating them in my hand. My other hand is moving up and down his cock, still just grazing the surface but faster now. I swing my head under his shirt and press my face in between his butt cheeks. He utters another high-pitched moan.

I slide the smooth skin of my palm on the underside of his dick, back and forth. He’s bucking now, clenching, twitching. He’s moving so much I have to grab his balls tighter to keep hold of them. My palm is moving forwards then backwards under him, I can feel he’s nearing the edge. He yells ‘Oh my god’ over and over.

It doesn’t take him long to go past the point of no return. His whole body convulses again and again. He shakes with each spasm; they finally slow and stop. I sit back in my chair but Binauld doesn’t move. He’s panting, his shoulders lifting and falling. After a minute or two he pulls up his trousers and buttons them. He turns towards me and I see that there are tears in his eyes, but that he also has a grin on his face.