Jackson meets with the settlement chief and is made an offer he can scarcely refuse. Though he knows it’s probably a bad idea and goes entirely against all regulations he’s obediently followed these past two years, he’s horny and pent-up enough that he can’t help but agree.
It wasn’t just anyone who could meet with the Settlement Chief. It wouldn’t have been an exaggeration to say that life in HTX05 pivoted on the man’s decisions.
As far as Jackson and the other men of HTX05 were concerned, the Settlement Chief was king of their cramped, sterile world. Nothing happened without the man’s approval.
Which made the current situation even more confusing. The Chief had asked for him, specifically. And in his experience, it was never a good thing to be singled out by a man in a position of authority.
Jackson’s heart hammered in his chest as he walked down the corridor. After the supervised release he’d had earlier in the morning, he’d prepared himself to be assigned to the custodial detail just because the universe had a habit of making bad days into shit days. He never would have imagined this.
He somehow managed to maintain an outward look of calm as he made his way toward the administrative core of the settlement. Inside, however, he was something of a mess.
Jackson wasn’t special. He didn’t think he was, at least. And he’d made it a point not to stand out because the guys that had illusions about being the main character were the ones that often got into trouble.
By all accounts, the Chief should have had no reason to even know his name, let alone call for him specifically. Which in his mind meant that he had probably fucked up.
The Settlement wasn’t a homeless shelter. It was a military installation, built to preserve what remained of humanity in the aftermath of the apocalypse.
Just because a guy was lucky enough to get taken in before things went to shit didn’t mean he’d always have a place inside. Resources were limited and resupply runs were few and far between.
People who didn’t contribute were a liability. A waste of resources. And while no one liked to talk about it, those people who were a net negative to the Settlement were turned out to fend for themselves in the world beyond the walls.
Jackson wracked his head for an explanation but couldn’t find one. The only reason he could think for the Chief to call for him is that he’d fucked up. In a big way.
He didn’t even know how. Sure, he’d balked against the systems implemented in the Settlement at the beginning, but everyone had resisted at first.
Since then, he’d tried to be a model citizen. He’d kept his head down. He’d done as he was told. Sure, he didn’t report for supervised release as often as he should have, but he was hardly the only one that put it off for as long as they could.
Before long, Jackson had arrived at the door to the administrative complex of the Settlement. He scanned himself in and was surprised to have access.
Even though the Chief had called for him specifically, he hadn’t expected that he would be allowed into the building on his own. He’d anticipated an armed escort, but no one even stopped to give him a second glance.
He made his way over to what looked like an information desk in the back of the main room. A cute Latino was there, manning a computer.
"E-excuse me," said Jackson.
The man behind the desk looked up from his work. "How can I help you?" he said.
"The Chief called for me."
The man looked Jackson up and down before turning his attention back to the computer. "Jackson Kelly?" he said.
"That’s me." Jackson leaned over the counter but the angle made it impossible to see the computer screen as the receptionist—if he could be called that—typed something on his keyboard.
"The Chief will see you in his study. Go down the door to your left and take the second right. You’re looking for the set of double doors," said the man.
"T-thanks," said Jackson. He pulled away from the desk and stood there for a moment, fidgeting nervously.
The man behind the desk shot him a look and said, "Now."
Jackson stopped in front of the Chief’s study. He had never been in the more military parts of the Settlement so he wasn’t sure what the protocol was.
He moved over to the side of the door and pushed the button on the intercom. "May I come in, Sir?" he said.
The response Jackson got was the hiss of the door’s pneumatic mechanism cycling. The two halves of the double door slid apart, revealing a decently well-appointed study past the threshold.
It was only to be expected that the Settlement Chief would have more luxuries than the average resident. The study had proper wood furniture inside, in the form of bookshelves and a large desk in the back. There were even potted plants at the corners and on the sills of the blast-proof glass windows.
Jackson spotted the Chief after looking around. The man was standing behind his desk, examining something on one of his bookshelves.
"You asked to see me, Chief?" said Jackson.
He flinched when he heard the hiss of the doors closing. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the windows turn practically opaque.
"Ah, Jackson. Sit. I was hoping to have a chance to talk to you, son," said the Chief, motioning to a chair in front of his desk.
"Thank you, Sir," said Jackson as he walked over to park his ass in the chair the Chief had motioned to. "Can I ask what this is about?"
A small smile tugged at the corner of the Chief’s mouth. "You can relax, son. I’m not going to bite you. I just thought we might get to know each other a little bit better."
Jackson was a little bit taken aback. He figured he had to have missed something because he didn’t feel like this was the sort of thing that a guy got called to the Settlement Chief’s office for.
"W-what do you want to know, Sir?" he managed once he got over his initial surprise.
The Chief grinned. "You’ve been with us what, two years now, son?" he said.
Jackson nodded. "Yes, Sir!"
"How have you liked your time here?" said the Chief.
"Um…" Jackson wasn’t sure how to answer that question. It felt like a trap. "I suppose all things considered, I can’t complain about having shelter, Sir," he said.
"You didn’t answer the question," said the Chief.
Jackson blanched even though there wasn’t the faintest hint of hostility in the Chief’s voice. "I-I’m sorry, Sir! It—uh—it’s been an adjustment, Sir. But really, I’m just glad that I’m not out there."
The Chief nodded. "You weren’t originally from around here, right?" he said.
Jackson nodded. "I was on the way to visit a…" He trailed off. As much as the situation had done to smooth over old prejudices, he still didn’t feel particularly comfortable being open about his identity with most of the men in the Settlement, least of all the older military types like the Chief and the senior staff. "A friend when it all went down."
The Chief’s expression was inscrutable. "Where were you visiting from?"
Jackson’s heart skipped a beat. Political affiliation was mostly meaningless these days but there were still some deeply-rooted prejudices around. He supposed there was no reason to lie to the Chief, though. "L.A., Sir," he said.
The Chief chuckled. "I guess it must have been even more of an adjustment for you, then, wasn’t it, son?" he said.
Jackson cracked a weak smile. "It was difficult, Sir," he said. He’d been in for a bit of culture shock at one of the shelters he’d found himself in shortly after the world went to shit.
"I can imagine," said the Chief. He leaned forward, planting his elbows on the desktop as he steepled his fingers in front of his face. "Do you remember what it was like?"
"What what was like, Sir?"
"Life. Before everything went to seven ways to heck."
Jackson exhaled. "I do, Sir," he said. Most every night he dreamed of the way things used to be. Sometimes he couldn’t help but wish that he had forgotten what the world was like in the before times. It might have been easier to adjust to the way things were now if he had.
The Chief smiled. There was a twinkle of something in his eyes that Jackson couldn’t quite put a finger on. "Do you miss it?" he said.
Jackson gulped. He nodded. "I do, Sir."
"We all do," said the Chief. "What part do you miss the most? The freedom?"
Jackson glanced down at the mention. It was entirely involuntary, but of all the freedoms they’d been deprived of since the end of the world, that one was the one he missed most. "Yes, Sir," he said.
"You and pretty much every man here," said the Chief with a laugh. "It’s frustrating, I’m sure. But you understand why we have to go this far, right, son?"
Loath as he was to admit it, Jackson did understand. The virus was transmitted through sexual fluids. Chastity was the most straightforward way to prevent mass outbreaks.
After a moment, he nodded and said, "I do, Sir."
The Chief pursed his lips and nodded. "Say, son. I’ve heard some interesting rumors. I was wondering if you could help me figure out if they were true."
Jackson’s heart skipped a beat. He’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop this whole time. He felt it was finally about it. "I’ll do my best, Sir," he said.
"Good boy," said the Chief.
Those words, in that tone of voice, did things to Jackson. Only sheer force of will managed to stifle the little noise that wanted to spill from him.
"I’ve heard that before everything, you were, you know—" The Chief dangled his wrist. "Is that true?"
Jackson’s blood ran cold. His heart sank. He hadn’t really tried to hide it, but he hadn’t exactly been open about it, either. He’d thought he passed well enough but apparently not.
He thought about how he would respond. The instinct was to say that it wasn’t the Chief’s business, or that the Chief couldn’t ask him that, but the rules of the old world didn’t apply here. The Chief pretty much had absolute power in the Settlement.
Jackson figured lying would probably cost him more than being honest so, after a moment of awkward silence, he nodded and said, "I-I am gay, Sir." He somehow doubted "gay" was the word the Chief would use but he kept that thought to himself.
"I see," said the Chief. He looked Jackson up and down, his lips drawing into a thin line.
Jackson felt oddly vulnerable. He had to hope the Chief wasn’t the kind of man that would throw a guy out into the wild out of prejudice but there was no guarantee.
Petty discontentment aside, he really didn’t have anything to complain about with regard to life in HTX05. It surely beat being outside the walls, having to stay out of the way of the roving fuck-mobs.
After a moment of absolutely bone-chilling dread, the Chief stood from his seat and grinned at Jackson. "In that case, son, I have a proposition that you and I might both benefit from," he said.
Jackson was stunned. The Chief’s reaction wasn’t at all what he’d expected. Not that he had very long to process what the Chief had just said before he noticed something that instantly attracted his attention.
The Chief was wearing a uniform like everyone else. He just had a badge that marked him out as the Chief. But he was sporting one other thing that no other man in the Settlement had: a bulge. A big bulge.
Jackson’s mouth ran dry. He reluctantly tore his eyes away from that lump in between the Chief’s legs, looking up to meet the older man’s gaze. "C-Chief?" he said.
The Chief smirked. He stuck his hand down the front of his shorts and fished his fat cock out. Even soft it looked intimidating—exactly the kind of cock that Jackson used to crave.
The Chief’s cock landed on top of the desk with a solid thump that spoke to the heft of the huge piece of meat. And it didn’t take long before a small puddle of pre-cum had formed at the tip.
"I think you and I can be of great help to one another," said the Chief. "What do you think, son?"
Jackson’s first instinct was to think that it was a horrible idea. He’d learned the hard way that sleeping around at one’s place of work never ended well. And while he lived at the Settlement, it was pretty much work, too.
More to the point, what the Chief was suggesting ran contrary to all the regulations he’d followed for the two years that he’d been in HTX05. Much as he groused about them, it felt wrong to wilfully flout the rules.
He had to wonder if it was a test. Maybe the Chief was trying to gauge his loyalty and obedience to the laws of the Settlement. Maybe the Chief did this to every guy that came through his office as a test of their fitness to be a part of HTX05.
But it had been so long since Jackson had had any action that didn’t involve a lame vibrator he barely even felt and a plastic pussy that did basically nothing for him.
The longer he stared at the Chief’s cock, the less inclined he was to give a shit about whether it was a test. The Chief had the kind of cock that could bruise a guy’s insides and he wanted it. He needed it.
Gulping audibly, Jackson looked up at the Chief. "I-I just have one question, Chief," he said.
The Chief quirked an eyebrow and smirked. "What’s that, son?" he said.
Jackson licked his lips. "I-I won’t be punished if I say yes, right?" he said.
The Chief laughed. "Who would punish you?" he said. "I’m the Chief. What I say goes. Keep your end of the deal and I don’t see any reason why you would have to be disciplined…" The Chief trailed off, a dangerous glint in his eye. "…Unless you would like a little bit of discipline."
Jackson’s cock twitched in its cage. He had to admit the prospect intrigued him. He gulped audibly and turned his gaze back to the fat cock leaking pre-cum all over the desk.
He couldn’t believe he was agreeing to this but he was so desperate he couldn’t say no. Not when there was such a delicious cock right in front of him. "W-we have a deal, Sir," he said.
The Chief smirked. "Well come around to this side of the desk then, son," he said. He grabbed his cock by the base and turned, wagging it up and down as if Jackson needed any more incentive to move over to his side.
Jackson got up from his seat. He felt spellbound. Enthralled. Big dick had always turned him on but he’d never felt so hypnotized by it.
"H-how do you want me, Chief?" said Jackson.
The corner of the Chief’s mouth curled. "What kind of question is that, son?" he said. "Course I want you on your knees."
The words had barely left the Chief’s lips when Jackson’s knees and legs folded under him. He may have overdone the enthusiasm because he landed on the floor with a grunt.
Pain shot up his legs but he ignored it, too horny to give much of a shit. The Chief’s cock looked even bigger up close and he had to wonder if he would be able to take it.
Not with that attitude, Jackson thought to himself. He used to be a proud size queen and he’d taken bigger before. Dildos, not real dicks, but the difference was subtle.
And besides, he’d be damned if he let his first fat hog in two years go just because it was too big for him. He might have been rusty but he was sure his old skills would come back to him before long.
"Go on, son," said the Chief as he tapped the blunt head of his cock on Jackson’s cheek. "He’s not had action in a long while so he’s very eager to get into a tight wet throat. You’ll be a good boy and make sure he feels good, right?"
Jackson had always found it a bit cringe-inducing when guys personified their dicks. But as far as the Chief’s was concerned, he thought it was warranted. The thing was big enough that he wouldn’t be surprised if it had a mind of its own.
"O-of course, Sir!" he said as he followed the Chief’s cock wave from side to side in front of his face. "I promise I won’t disappoint."
"Enough yapping, son," said the Chief as he tapped the head of his cock on Jackson’s lips.
Jackson eagerly opened his mouth. He stuck his tongue out to accept the Chief’s cock and moaned at the first splash of salty-sweet pre-cum that touched it.
The taste had faded from his memory in the two years he’d spent sexually starved at HTX05. But he’d never forgotten.
And like a desert plant that had been graced with a sudden rain, the dried-up husk of Jackson’s inner cock whore sprang back to life. He swirled his tongue around the head of the Chief’s uncut cock before closing his lips around it. His cheeks dimpled inward as he suckled on the sensitive glans, eliciting a low groan from the Chief.
The Chief leaned against the desk, bracing his hand against the wood. His voice was gruff when he spoke, the fingers of his free hand threading through Jackson’s hair. "Fuck, son, you really know how to work that tongue," he said.
The praise spurred Jackson further. Sliding his tongue under the hood of the Chief’s cock, he worked the tip around the crown of the Chief’s glans. The low moan that it enticed out of the Chief filled him with a sense of perverse satisfaction.
Jackson teased the head only a minute or so longer, tonguing the slit at the tip to coax that delicious pre-cum out of the Chief. But there was an itch in his throat. Deep enough there was only one way to scratch it.
Without needing any prompting, he slowly worked his mouth down the length of the Chief’s hardness. He swallowed the fat cock inch by inch, relishing the way that it wedged his jaw open with its considerable girth.
The head of the Chief’s cock hit the back of Jackson’s throat and his lack of practice became apparent. He gagged, his throat convulsing as tears pricked at his eyes.
But he was nothing if not determined. He looked up at the Chief, energized somehow by the expectant gaze that met his eyes. He took a deep breath, willed himself, to relax, and tried again.
Jackson’s eyes watered as his throat involuntarily bucked the attempt. But he choked it down—literally and figuratively—grabbing the Chief by the hips for leverage.
Gagging and choking along the way, he pulled himself down the Chief’s cock until the head had slipped into his throat. And just like that, as if welcoming home an old friend, it became easier.
The Chief gently pushed down on the back of Jackson’s head but this time the resistance was minimal. Jackson crept his lips down the sides of the Chief’s fat cock, sinking more and more of the hot, throbbing meat into his throat.
Jackson’s back arched with pleasure. He’d forgotten how good it felt to have a cock crammed down his gullet.
"Looks like you’re enjoying yourself nice and good down there, son," said the Chief with a little smirk.
Jackson looked up and nodded, the corners of his mouth curling in a little smile. It didn’t take much longer after that before his nose was buried in the Chief’s crotch.
Like all the other men in the Settlement, the Chief was hairless down there. It had started with shaving, then chemical depilation, and then laser treatments to make things permanent.
It had all ostensibly been for hygiene, which Jackson could understand. Nevertheless, it was a bit disappointing. He would have loved to have his nose buried in a wiry bush of pubic hair. As it was, he was just glad that some of the Chief’s natural musk remained.
Things took off when Jackson’s lips finally locked around the base of the Chief’s cock. The fingers in his hair tightened their grip, keeping him in place as the cock in his throat slowly worked itself in and out of his gullet.
The Chief rolled his hips. He started slow but quickly picked up the pace. Jackson gurgled happily around his cock as the throat-fucking began in earnest.
It didn’t take long before the Chief was fully thrusting into Jackson’s face. His hips rocked back and forth, pumping his cock down Jackson’s throat with little mercy.
Not that Jackson minded. He loved the feeling of getting his throat reamed out. He took advantage of what little slack the Chief gave him to bob his head up and down to meet the Chief’s thrusts, relishing the sensation.
Every thrust was harder and faster than the last and the Chief did not let up for even a moment. His stamina was to be commended, not flagging even once as he rammed his cock as hard into Jackson’s gullet as he could.
It got to the point that as much as Jackson relaxed his throat, the pumping of the Chief’s cock made him choke and gag anyway. Throat slime and spit spewed out the corners of his mouth whenever the older man pulled out. His eyes watered and snot bubbled out of his nose but he loved it.
His cock strained within the confines of its cage. He was so horny he might have burst out of it were it built out of weaker stuff. He was so goddamned turned on by the Chief plundering his throat that he was on the brink of creaming his shorts without even touching his locked cock once.
"Here it comes, son," said the Chief through gritted teeth as he yanked Jackson’s face into his crotch over and over again, pushing his cock as deep into Jackson’s throat as he could. "Don’t waste a drop."
A moan gurgled out of Jackson and past the Chief’s fat hog as he felt it swell and pulse in his throat. He sucked harder in anticipation of the load that was to come, eager to get his first taste of cum in two years.
The Chief gave Jackson a few more ragged thrusts before slamming his cock home. He rubbed Jackson’s nose in his crotch, grinding his cock into Jackson’s gullet as hard as he could. "Take it, son! Suck down every last drop!"
Jackson was only too eager to oblige. He moaned as he felt the first spurt of hot cum coat his throat. He gulped greedily, sucking down everything the Chief had to offer him.
It took the better part of a minute for the Chief’s orgasm to subside. Not much of a surprise considering how pent-up the older man must have been. Jackson certainly wasn’t complaining about it.
Jackson could almost feel the cum sloshing around inside him, spreading its warmth. It filled him with a perverse sense of satisfaction that was only improved when the Chief pulled almost all the way out of his mouth.
The Chief’s cock head lingered in his mouth, dribbling out the last few dregs of cum on his tongue. The taste was just as good as he remembered—probably even better considering the diet they had.
Jackson cleaned the Chief’s cock as best as he could with his tongue before the man pulled out of his mouth with a lewd little pop. He flushed when the Chief ruffled his hair.
"Good boy, Jackson," said the Chief. "I think this could be the start of something beautiful."
Jackson flushed. "I-I hope so, Chief," he said.
As he came down from the high of getting to service a man after so long, he became acutely aware of the cramped erection between his legs. He whined softly to himself as his thwarted arousal strained against the bars of its cage.
"Get up," said the Chief.
Jackson did as he was told, still in a bit of a daze from everything that had happened. Once he was back on his feet, the Chief grabbed him by the back of the neck and gave him a rough, possessive kiss that made his caged cock twitch.
It didn’t help that the Chief decided to grope him then and there. A moan spilled from him as those rough, calloused fingers grabbed his cage through his shorts.
"Sorry to disappoint, son, but I won’t be letting you out of this," said the Chief as he pulled away.
Jackson couldn’t help but whine a little. Not that he’d expected any different, of course. The Chief was the one with all the power.
"Of course, I’ll make sure you won’t have to be let out," said the Chief as he slipped his other hand from the nape of Jackson’s neck down the back of Jackson’s shorts.
Jackson’s caged cock twitched as the Chief rubbed his hole. It had been so long since he was last fucked properly that he couldn’t help but moan at the light stimulation.
"Next time, I’ll fuck you so good you won’t even think about that cage of yours, son," said the Chief as he nipped at the lobe of Jackson’s ear.
"Y-yes, Sir," said Jackson, already brimming with anticipation of whenever ‘next time’ would be.
"For now, I’ve got work to do, and you are to report for watch duty," said the Chief. "A little favor from me to you, son. A token of goodwill. I want you thinking about how badly you want my cock so you’re ready for me next time I call for you."
Jackson licked his lips. He already was. Hell, if he had his way, he would have had the Chief bend him over the desk and take him right then and there but he knew better than to think that he had any control over the situation.
"I-I won’t stop thinking about it for one moment, Sir," he said.
"Good boy," said the Chief. "Now go. And feel free to take your time reporting. I told the boys over there that I might keep you a while."
"Sup, bro. Welcome to the Guardhouse at the End of the World," said one of the other guys on watch duty—Malik—as he came up to Jackson with a hand held out.
Jackson cracked a little smile. He clapped his hand into Malik’s and went with the traditional greeting, the handshake followed by the half-hug. "Hey, man," he said.
"Come up," said Malik, jerking his head over to the ladder that led up to the roof of the guardhouse.
Jackson followed Malik up the hatch. "Anything going on?" he said as he emerged into daylight. It wasn’t his first time on watch duty but it never failed to surprise him how far the sound of moaning could reach.
Two other guys were up top. They were from different circles than Jackson usually went around in but he recognized them. One was Zach, a native, and the other one was Niall, a tourist from the UK that had the misfortune to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
"Just the usual," said Niall.
Zach didn’t seem like he agreed. "I’m telling you, man. Something’s up. The poor bastards are really going at it today." Both men were carrying rifles but Zach was the only one that had his trained on the horde.
"Aren’t they always?" said Malik with a skeptical little smirk.
"I swear, bro. They’re louder today," said Zach.
Jackson peered out past the wall. On the one side was the Settlement, a haven of relative sanity and stability in a world that had gone to shit. On the other side was the horde. A mass of naked bodies rutting one against the other in a perpetual orgy of flesh and fluids.
It would have been hot if it weren’t so disturbing. The glazed looks, the drooling mouths, the mindless groans and grunts, and the skin glistening with sweat and gods knew what else.
They fucked and sucked and fucked and sucked, trapped in an eternal crush of wanton carnality. When one cock slipped out of a fucked-open asshole, another was there to take its place.
They never stopped. They never rested. Day or night, rain or shine, the poor souls fucked with abandon. And somehow they didn’t waste away.
Jackson shuddered. There were days he wondered if it wouldn’t be better to be one of the horde but there was just something fundamentally repulsive about it.
And yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Grateful as he was that he still had his mind, one thing was true: the zombies out there had a kind of freedom none of the men in the Settlement did.