Hello. So sorry for taking so long. I had hoped to be able to get this part done before new year, but writer's block got me bad. Hope you like this anyway! I love hearing what you have to say, it really does help me get going with the writing. Thanks for all the comments!
------
Handler Rogers and agent Wilson talk for a while, but the Asset can only hear Handler Rogers's side of the conversation. It hears him say things like, “I'd love to. How's tomorrow at eight sound?...See you in the gym then.” Making the Asset wonder if they are talking about an actual sparring session or, if not, then maybe the Asset might be allowed to attend and watch Handler Rogers do some cardio.
Another image suddenly appears in the Asset's mind, this one of Handler Rogers with a sweat slicked T-shirt sticking to his powerful chest while bench pressing enough to actually strain his stamina, flushed face focused upwards on the Asset with a heated look in his eyes as it helps with spotting for him. Later on, in the showers, he would have the Asset sucking on his cock as the water flows over them both, guiding and commanding how he wants it with strong hands tangled in dark hair and a voice rough with pleasure, ”Fuck, yes. Just like that. Take it. So good for me. Don't stop. Mine, just mine.”
The Asset shudders, the solid steel between its legs biting down on another erection with cruel indifference. None of the wings of the locking plug are press on the Asset's prostate, but it wouldn't need much to rub against that bundle of nerves, just a bit of clenching and the Asset would be wracked with even more pleasure.
The Asset doesn't do anything, it still has a mission to fulfill after all. There is no time for greedy self pleasuring. Handler Rogers will tell it when he wants it to touch itself, when it can press inside its hole with metal fingers or rub its cock with a warm flesh hand. Handler Rogers likes to watch when the Asset takes care of that part of maintenance by itself, and it's always so much easier to find relief when he does.
The Asset lets the straw poke through the muzzle and takes another couple of sip of sweet pineapple, careful not to shake the precious load balancing on its shoulders, it would be very bad if anything fell off.
Handler Rogers's happy voice makes things go fuzzy and out of focus again. The Asset drifts away in the knowledge that it is safe and good.
A bit later Handler Rogers says, “No, it's alright. The Asset has been exceptionally well behaved so far today. I'm very proud of hi-...it,” and that sends another cascade of pleasure through the Asset's body, all of it pouring into its chest where it pools and sloshes in tandem with the heat already gathered in its belly.
Hearing Handler Rogers tell others how pleased he is with the Asset does something indescribable to its mind. Alien sensations swirl around it, like the sound of a newborn rainbow or the taste of moonlight, impossible things like that.
Handler Rogers is bragging about the Asset, bragging about owning such a useful and good thing. Of course, Handler Rogers has said as much before, but when he claims such things in front of a teammate the Asset can't help but let a small kernel of hope to form in its chest.
A hope that what Handler Rogers says might stay true forever even though it knows that's impossible. One day Handler Rogers will see how worthless and pathetic the Asset is, but until then it will serve him as well as it can. Cleaning away breakfast, putting on sunscreen, holding up drinks, even making Handler Rogers laugh and letting him find pleasure in its body.
The glass of pineapple juice is approaching half empty, but the Asset doesn't know how long it is expected to stay like this, there is no clock to judge time with so it has to guess by the displacement of shadows that not even an hour has passed.
The sunlight landing mostly on the back of Asset's head and thighs brings a different kind of warmth that seeps into every exposed poor, buzzing just under the skin. With the breathable material of the safety gear the Asset doesn't experience any skin irritation or perspiration where the black straps and cuffs cover it up. It's not worried about tan lines since neither the Asset or Handler Rogers can hold a tan for more than a day before the pigmentation in their skin reverts.
“Status report, Asset,” Handler Rogers commands after a long silence.
Squaring its posture, it answers right away, “The Asset is unharmed and fully operational within the new standard safety parameters, sir. Only negligible stresses on knee joints and spine to report, sir.” The Asset can hold this position without strain for at least another hour before the ache in its back and legs starts to register as pain. It once held a flawless L-sitting formation on gymnastic rings for two hours without a break. Balancing a tray on its shoulders and bound arms is easy by comparison.
“What are your current orders? Be specific,” Handler Rogers inquires seriously, though he does not sound reproachful.
“To function as a stable surface for Handler Rogers and agent Wilson to rest a tray of their drinks on within easy reach.”
“Yes, good job, Asset,” Comes the praise. The Asset smiles a little bit wider. “What were the exact operational conditions of this task?” Handler Rogers asks with warm encouragement.
“To continue until the first signs of pain and then immediately report so to Handler Rogers for further orders, sir,” the Asset replies dutifully.
“Yes, exactly!” Handler Rogers sounds excited and pleased, making the Asset fill up with more warm fuzziness. It closes its eyes, sighs. It did good. “You've been a wonderful table for us so far. I'm very pleased.”
“Th-the Asset is grateful for any opportunity to serve Handler Rogers, sir.” Everything is soft and fluffy, the bright sunlight blooming out in the corners of the Asset's eyes. Handler Rogers's words mean everything.
The tray is lifted off the Asset's shoulders by Handler Rogers and placed on the deck on the other side of his chaise lounge. The Asset peers up at him, and seeing the wide smile on his face it smiles shyly back.
“I think now's a good time for a light snack, and Sam here needs to head off anyway so let's take a break.” The Asset looks over at agent Wilson who rises up with a wave and walks away. The Asset nods back, it doesn't believe the agent wants to hurt it. He seems to be a kind person like Handler Rogers, but the Asset knows that might just be a ruse to get it to let its guard down. However, Handler Rogers is a very smart and perceptive man, and he is also very good friends with agent Wilson so he can't possibly be that bad.
Not that it matters anyway, the Asset belongs to Handler Rogers and nobody else. He doesn't want anyone else to use or even touch the Asset. “We'll let your front get some sun on the green patch afterwards. With how good you rubbed me in before I won't have to worry about taking a nap on my favorite pillow, right?”
A bolt of pure want strikes the Asset in its belly, causing its heart to skip a beat and its cock to surge to attention, the cage to bob up and down with futile heat. Handler Rogers wants to use the Asset as a cushion on the soft grass! He will rest his head on its body!
Handler Rogers gives a faint chuckle. “‘Sounds that good, huh?” A hand cups the Asset's cheek around the muzzle. It leans into the contact and closes its eyes, greedy for the touch after going so long without.
“Yes, sir. The Asset is grateful for the chance to serve, sir,” it murmurs. Handler Rogers scratches behind its ear as a reward.
Handler Rogers picks up the Asset with the wide spinal strap again and carries it over to the bar where he gently lowers it to the ground by one of the bar stools.
The sensation of being lifted and held suspended securely in the air by the rigid frame has the Asset breathing heavily once Handler Rogers releases it. Distantly, the Asset marvels over the engineering of the arm binders. Distantly because most of the Asset's mind is occupied with sorting through the excited tingling in its gut, confused over the pleasurable anomaly. After a moment the Asset's stomach seems to calm down.
Rolling its shoulders with a sigh, the Asset unabashedly watches Handler Rogers sitting on the stool in front of it as he peels and dices an assortment of fruits and berries, stuffing the colorful food bits in a big blender along with some ice.
After a minute on the highest setting Handler Rogers pours up two jug and adds a generous scoop of soft ice cream from the bar fridge to each before sticking a straw in each and presenting one to the Asset with a happy, “Here, for you. Drink up!”
Sipping eagerly the Asset idly wonders if Handler Rogers will put the bowl down on the ground, but he doesn't. Handler Rogers holds the cold ceramic awkwardly steady for the Asset the entire meal, keeping his eyes on it throughout with a content expression as he sips his own cold treat.
The Asset slurps as fast as it can, barely paying attention to the rich blend of fruit and shipped ice. It wants to finish the sweet reward right away so Handler Rogers can rest his body against it on the grass area.
A stabbing pain blooms up in the Asset's head without warning. The Asset flinches back and lets out a whimper it can't hear. It shouldn't be so greedy. That's why it is punished, it must be. Bad Asset.
“Oh, hey, hey. Is your head hurting you, Asset? It's okay, it'll pass. Just slow down for a bit, breath,” Handler Rogers says.
After a moment the pain dulls somewhat. The Asset looks up with salty water in its eyes at Handler Rogers and says, “The Asset apologizes for being greedy, sir.”
Handler Rogers frowns confused, but not angry, never angry. “That wasn't a punishment, Asset. It happens to anyone when if they eat to much cold to fast. I...I'm, well, Clint once told me it's called brain freeze, so…”
The Asset glances at the cup of sweet fruity goodness. It did taste delicious, but the Asset is torn between taking it easy and having to wait to lay down on the grass, or endure the 'brain freeze’ again.
Handler Rogers gave the treat to the Asset because he wanted it have it, so the Asset shouldn't squander it.
Mind made up, the Asset gives Handler Rogers a shy smile and takes the straw into its mouth again.
One sip, swallow, breathe. Two sips, swallow, breathe. One sip, again and again in a slow but steady pace. The Asset's tongue goes a bit numb after a while, but the pain doesn't return, and the mix of fruit and ice cream tastes delicious.
Eventually they both finish their snacks and Handler Rogers brings the Asset to the grassy area, where he lays it down on its back. The Asset can't help wiggle just a bit, the soft grass tickling over the bared skin. Handler Rogers looks down, grinning, and the Asset gazes back up at him with the same expression.
The Asset closes its eyes once Handler Rogers is situated with his head once more resting on its stomach and relaxes secure in the knowledge that everything is alright in the world.
Fill: Asset Management 10/?
Hello. So sorry for taking so long. I had hoped to be able to get this part done before new year, but writer's block got me bad. Hope you like this anyway! I love hearing what you have to say, it really does help me get going with the writing. Thanks for all the comments!
------
Handler Rogers and agent Wilson talk for a while, but the Asset can only hear Handler Rogers's side of the conversation. It hears him say things like, “I'd love to. How's tomorrow at eight sound?...See you in the gym then.” Making the Asset wonder if they are talking about an actual sparring session or, if not, then maybe the Asset might be allowed to attend and watch Handler Rogers do some cardio.
Another image suddenly appears in the Asset's mind, this one of Handler Rogers with a sweat slicked T-shirt sticking to his powerful chest while bench pressing enough to actually strain his stamina, flushed face focused upwards on the Asset with a heated look in his eyes as it helps with spotting for him. Later on, in the showers, he would have the Asset sucking on his cock as the water flows over them both, guiding and commanding how he wants it with strong hands tangled in dark hair and a voice rough with pleasure, ”Fuck, yes. Just like that. Take it. So good for me. Don't stop. Mine, just mine.”
The Asset shudders, the solid steel between its legs biting down on another erection with cruel indifference. None of the wings of the locking plug are press on the Asset's prostate, but it wouldn't need much to rub against that bundle of nerves, just a bit of clenching and the Asset would be wracked with even more pleasure.
The Asset doesn't do anything, it still has a mission to fulfill after all. There is no time for greedy self pleasuring. Handler Rogers will tell it when he wants it to touch itself, when it can press inside its hole with metal fingers or rub its cock with a warm flesh hand. Handler Rogers likes to watch when the Asset takes care of that part of maintenance by itself, and it's always so much easier to find relief when he does.
The Asset lets the straw poke through the muzzle and takes another couple of sip of sweet pineapple, careful not to shake the precious load balancing on its shoulders, it would be very bad if anything fell off.
Handler Rogers's happy voice makes things go fuzzy and out of focus again. The Asset drifts away in the knowledge that it is safe and good.
A bit later Handler Rogers says, “No, it's alright. The Asset has been exceptionally well behaved so far today. I'm very proud of hi-...it,” and that sends another cascade of pleasure through the Asset's body, all of it pouring into its chest where it pools and sloshes in tandem with the heat already gathered in its belly.
Hearing Handler Rogers tell others how pleased he is with the Asset does something indescribable to its mind. Alien sensations swirl around it, like the sound of a newborn rainbow or the taste of moonlight, impossible things like that.
Handler Rogers is bragging about the Asset, bragging about owning such a useful and good thing. Of course, Handler Rogers has said as much before, but when he claims such things in front of a teammate the Asset can't help but let a small kernel of hope to form in its chest.
A hope that what Handler Rogers says might stay true forever even though it knows that's impossible. One day Handler Rogers will see how worthless and pathetic the Asset is, but until then it will serve him as well as it can. Cleaning away breakfast, putting on sunscreen, holding up drinks, even making Handler Rogers laugh and letting him find pleasure in its body.
The glass of pineapple juice is approaching half empty, but the Asset doesn't know how long it is expected to stay like this, there is no clock to judge time with so it has to guess by the displacement of shadows that not even an hour has passed.
The sunlight landing mostly on the back of Asset's head and thighs brings a different kind of warmth that seeps into every exposed poor, buzzing just under the skin. With the breathable material of the safety gear the Asset doesn't experience any skin irritation or perspiration where the black straps and cuffs cover it up. It's not worried about tan lines since neither the Asset or Handler Rogers can hold a tan for more than a day before the pigmentation in their skin reverts.
“Status report, Asset,” Handler Rogers commands after a long silence.
Squaring its posture, it answers right away, “The Asset is unharmed and fully operational within the new standard safety parameters, sir. Only negligible stresses on knee joints and spine to report, sir.” The Asset can hold this position without strain for at least another hour before the ache in its back and legs starts to register as pain. It once held a flawless L-sitting formation on gymnastic rings for two hours without a break. Balancing a tray on its shoulders and bound arms is easy by comparison.
“What are your current orders? Be specific,” Handler Rogers inquires seriously, though he does not sound reproachful.
“To function as a stable surface for Handler Rogers and agent Wilson to rest a tray of their drinks on within easy reach.”
“Yes, good job, Asset,” Comes the praise. The Asset smiles a little bit wider. “What were the exact operational conditions of this task?” Handler Rogers asks with warm encouragement.
“To continue until the first signs of pain and then immediately report so to Handler Rogers for further orders, sir,” the Asset replies dutifully.
“Yes, exactly!” Handler Rogers sounds excited and pleased, making the Asset fill up with more warm fuzziness. It closes its eyes, sighs. It did good. “You've been a wonderful table for us so far. I'm very pleased.”
“Th-the Asset is grateful for any opportunity to serve Handler Rogers, sir.” Everything is soft and fluffy, the bright sunlight blooming out in the corners of the Asset's eyes. Handler Rogers's words mean everything.
The tray is lifted off the Asset's shoulders by Handler Rogers and placed on the deck on the other side of his chaise lounge. The Asset peers up at him, and seeing the wide smile on his face it smiles shyly back.
“I think now's a good time for a light snack, and Sam here needs to head off anyway so let's take a break.” The Asset looks over at agent Wilson who rises up with a wave and walks away. The Asset nods back, it doesn't believe the agent wants to hurt it. He seems to be a kind person like Handler Rogers, but the Asset knows that might just be a ruse to get it to let its guard down. However, Handler Rogers is a very smart and perceptive man, and he is also very good friends with agent Wilson so he can't possibly be that bad.
Not that it matters anyway, the Asset belongs to Handler Rogers and nobody else. He doesn't want anyone else to use or even touch the Asset. “We'll let your front get some sun on the green patch afterwards. With how good you rubbed me in before I won't have to worry about taking a nap on my favorite pillow, right?”
A bolt of pure want strikes the Asset in its belly, causing its heart to skip a beat and its cock to surge to attention, the cage to bob up and down with futile heat. Handler Rogers wants to use the Asset as a cushion on the soft grass! He will rest his head on its body!
Handler Rogers gives a faint chuckle. “‘Sounds that good, huh?” A hand cups the Asset's cheek around the muzzle. It leans into the contact and closes its eyes, greedy for the touch after going so long without.
“Yes, sir. The Asset is grateful for the chance to serve, sir,” it murmurs. Handler Rogers scratches behind its ear as a reward.
Handler Rogers picks up the Asset with the wide spinal strap again and carries it over to the bar where he gently lowers it to the ground by one of the bar stools.
The sensation of being lifted and held suspended securely in the air by the rigid frame has the Asset breathing heavily once Handler Rogers releases it. Distantly, the Asset marvels over the engineering of the arm binders. Distantly because most of the Asset's mind is occupied with sorting through the excited tingling in its gut, confused over the pleasurable anomaly. After a moment the Asset's stomach seems to calm down.
Rolling its shoulders with a sigh, the Asset unabashedly watches Handler Rogers sitting on the stool in front of it as he peels and dices an assortment of fruits and berries, stuffing the colorful food bits in a big blender along with some ice.
After a minute on the highest setting Handler Rogers pours up two jug and adds a generous scoop of soft ice cream from the bar fridge to each before sticking a straw in each and presenting one to the Asset with a happy, “Here, for you. Drink up!”
Sipping eagerly the Asset idly wonders if Handler Rogers will put the bowl down on the ground, but he doesn't. Handler Rogers holds the cold ceramic awkwardly steady for the Asset the entire meal, keeping his eyes on it throughout with a content expression as he sips his own cold treat.
The Asset slurps as fast as it can, barely paying attention to the rich blend of fruit and shipped ice. It wants to finish the sweet reward right away so Handler Rogers can rest his body against it on the grass area.
A stabbing pain blooms up in the Asset's head without warning. The Asset flinches back and lets out a whimper it can't hear. It shouldn't be so greedy. That's why it is punished, it must be. Bad Asset.
“Oh, hey, hey. Is your head hurting you, Asset? It's okay, it'll pass. Just slow down for a bit, breath,” Handler Rogers says.
After a moment the pain dulls somewhat. The Asset looks up with salty water in its eyes at Handler Rogers and says, “The Asset apologizes for being greedy, sir.”
Handler Rogers frowns confused, but not angry, never angry. “That wasn't a punishment, Asset. It happens to anyone when if they eat to much cold to fast. I...I'm, well, Clint once told me it's called brain freeze, so…”
The Asset glances at the cup of sweet fruity goodness. It did taste delicious, but the Asset is torn between taking it easy and having to wait to lay down on the grass, or endure the 'brain freeze’ again.
Handler Rogers gave the treat to the Asset because he wanted it have it, so the Asset shouldn't squander it.
Mind made up, the Asset gives Handler Rogers a shy smile and takes the straw into its mouth again.
One sip, swallow, breathe. Two sips, swallow, breathe. One sip, again and again in a slow but steady pace. The Asset's tongue goes a bit numb after a while, but the pain doesn't return, and the mix of fruit and ice cream tastes delicious.
Eventually they both finish their snacks and Handler Rogers brings the Asset to the grassy area, where he lays it down on its back. The Asset can't help wiggle just a bit, the soft grass tickling over the bared skin. Handler Rogers looks down, grinning, and the Asset gazes back up at him with the same expression.
The Asset closes its eyes once Handler Rogers is situated with his head once more resting on its stomach and relaxes secure in the knowledge that everything is alright in the world.