Rava is a transferrer. Cybernetic implants have helped him become the most desirable transferrer his Metropolis has ever seen, and that’s even before his first transfer.
Why? Because he can store the most data within his storage banks—his testicles, that’s why. A fact he comes to realize all too well when the whole of human knowledge has been downloaded into him by an Oracle who dreams of an information revolution. An Oracle who Rava has an infatuation for to complicate matters even more for him.
Unfortunately for Rava, the data he carries makes him a target for all who oppose such ideas, which is just about everyone else in the city. Can he survive long enough to preserve his precious cargo? Or will the knowledge he carries be lost forever? Humanity not able to grow, enslaved by the Oracles who want to keep controlling the information for their own benefit.
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Transference
Copyright © 2011 Mark Alders
ISBN: 978-1-55487-958-8
Cover art by Martine Jardin
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by eXtasy Books
Look for us online at:
Smashwords Edition
Transference
By
Mark Alders
For Sylvia
Chapter One
Engaging the Source
Rava was nervous.
Being called to a Source Port Station for the first time was something he had spent his whole life preparing for. Eighteen years of perfecting his enhancements, making sure he was able to not only receive any information given to him by the Source—anything from four gigabytes to one-hundred terabytes at a time, or enough to piggyback on his own unique DNA held within his testes—but transfer it to a receiver without loss of data.
The preparation had been a long one, more than childhood itself, but to become a viable, usable and reliable transferrer was what he was designed for, what his purpose was in life. His desire was to do his job well, perform at his best, because one day, if he was faithful, if he was chosen, he could become an End User. End Users didn’t transfer data, they applied it. That was power. Sheer and absolute.
Rain spattered Rava’s face when he looked up at the massive structure of the Source Port Station. The building—no, the superstructure, which was a feat of engineering, was integrated into all the levels of the city, like Rava’s heart which beat hard in his chest. The Source building even penetrated the upper levels, the parts of the city where the End Users and Oracles ruled from, where they utilized the information to keep them in rule. Transferrers like Rava kept to the lower levels, where they were most useful, where they could be controlled more easily. Rava didn’t mind, because there was hope.
He stepped forward, out of the rain. The entrance to the Source building was all dark glass and neon, stark against the glimpses of moody sky which lit up with cracks of lightning in regular intervals. A storm was brewing. Rava urged himself on, entering his code, RavaTransferUnit6700. Sure, using a human to transfer information wasn’t as fast as conventional methods, but it was secure. A human was the greatest firewall ever invented, flesh and bone and sinew the perfect barrier to any threat. If, by remote chance, the human carrying the data was killed, the information within, information which became a part of the living, breathing man by being stored inside his reproductive system, would die, too. That was how the End Users and Oracles liked the arrangement, and as such, only the most important information—to them—was given to a transferrer. Only the most worthy were chosen to transfer.
A green light, shining into his eyes, also scanning him, signalled Rava’s code acceptance. A door, steel and glass and imposing, hissed open and a pathway lit up at his feet. Rava shook his head from not only the annoyance of the water trickling down his skin, but the thoughts of the utopia he could become a part of if he could just get a half a dozen important transfers under his belt. Then again, perhaps he was jumping ahead of himself. He had to concentrate on the moment, on the here and now. This was to be his first transference, and a success here would ensure a favourable report to those who lived above the gloom of the under city.
“Please step up to the transfer point highlighted before you, RavaTransferUnit6700,” an androgynous voice chimed after Rava had followed the light through many corridors and up many levels. The Source building was indeed massive, containing more than a million ports for data transfer, both upload and download.
Before him, a wall opened up. A cylindrical structure, all smooth and larger than himself, revealed itself. With an electronic whirring sound, like that which reminded him of hydraulics, panels opened up, lit by more eerie neon. A step formed and at the end of the landing, a Data Transfer Point, one for download, became illuminated. A structure extended out of the metal cylinder at groin height. A structure, which for all intents and purposes, looked like a vagina or elaborate sphincter stuck on the end of an articulating tube.
Rava went up to the Port with excited trepidation, his fingers tingling and his face flushed with the heat of his nerves. His heart continued to pound. As soon as he set foot on the landing, more panels lit up, including a structure which engulfed him to provide privacy.
“Please prepare your jack for insertion into the port, RavaTransferUnit6700. Data transfer will occur as soon as you are ready and will only take a few moments. You may feel uncomfortable, but the process is safe and you are in no danger. Just relax and let the data work its way to your storage banks.”
“Call me Rava,” he said, nervousness making his voice come out more like a girlish giggle. Still, he unzipped his pants, ones which were designed specifically for easy access by falling away completely once the duel zipper which ran the length of the pants was undone.
Rava was semi-erect already. The thought of inserting his cock into a machine designed for him, as this was his Source Port and his alone, was somewhat erotic, he had to admit.
“Please accept visual aid stimulation, RavaTransferUnit6700.”
Rava looked straight ahead toward a green light. Images of humans copulating filled his mind, sounds of their passion enhancing the visuals. They were males, as was his preference and something which had been programmed into his Port during pre-download protocol earlier. With one hand, he retracted his foreskin—data can only be transferred down the urethra, after all—and with one fluid motion, pushed his now hard cock into the sphincter-like apparatus as far as it would go. A squelching sound resulted. The noise of his entry to the Data Point even more intense than the guttural cries of pleasure emanating from his stimulation aid which played in his mind’s eye.
Seconds later, a sting pierced his consciousness for a brief moment, emulating from the end of his glans, followed by a nauseous wave which almost made him lose balance. He wouldn’t know the information being transferred inside him. After all, information stored in the testes wasn’t accessible by the brain. To gain data in such a way was one of the major advantages of sensitive information being placed inside a human and another reason why it was so secure. No access other than copulation could reveal the secrets he held within his flesh. In fact, transferrers could go about their whole lives like anyone else, until the information was required and a specialist receiver obtained the data from him to then pass onto an End User or Oracle via an upload point.
Warmth consumed Rava. This time the sensation originated from his balls. He imagined they’d be low and engorged, the information soaking into the fluids within, becoming his sperm. He smiled. Seemed his first data transfer was going well.
A chime sounded. The computer said, “Transfer complete. Please disengage from the Data Port, RavaTransferUnit6700. Your service has been noted and you will be contacted by a receiver shortly. Have a nice day.”
Panels closed as soon as he pulled his cock out of the Port. Pre-ejaculate dribbled off the end of his cock and his foreskin retracted back over his glans as soon as he became flaccid. His job was indeed done. One thing was certain, blue balls created by the transfer of all that gigabytes of data would haunt him for a few hours. He ached, and no amount of careful walking would relieve the sensation. To put it simply, he was uncomfortable, but proud of himself at the same time.
Still, he managed to get his pants on, something which wasn’t as bad as he had first thought and thankful they were made of a light material. He now knew why transferrers were given such special clothing. Anything which even brushed against his data bloated balls—or storage banks as the computer had called them—stung like fuck and made him hiss through his teeth. When he left the local Source Port Station, walking like a man who had ridden a horse for a week on the trot, there was only one thing on his mind.
He needed a drink. A good, stiff drink.
Chapter Two
Compiler’s Revelation
The Compiler Club was his destination to quench his thirst, a place where a lot of transferrers hung out, got merry and forgot about the way life was for them, especially if they were never chosen to carry data. Rava liked the company of other men, and he hated to admit, one of the reasons for his trepidation when it came to choosing a career as a transferrer was the fact he would have to become involved with a female, or receiver, at some point. Still, downloading information, giving a woman his ejaculate, was a far cry from love, wasn’t it? Some have questioned why he chose to become a transferrer considering he was gay, but the answer to him was a simple one. He might be chosen one day. That and the fact homosexuality was frowned upon by some End Users. After all, two transferrers who came together because of their attraction to one another couldn’t pass on information, couldn’t give them their power.
All men were either transferrers or staff.
Rava didn’t want to be a member of the End User’s staff, they were sterilized, stripped of their masculinity so they could be brainwashed into being their drones more effectively. After all, gay or not, Rava liked the fact he had all his parts intact. To mate with a receiver once in a while was a smaller sacrifice than being castrated, that’s for sure. Besides, being a homosexual wasn’t a crime as such, just frowned upon. End User’s didn’t bother too much with what transferrers did in their off time, so long as information was passed to them. That’s all they cared about. Rava’s philosophy, and one which had helped him make his career decision, was that he would have sex with a receiver, but would make love to a man.
He hailed for a tube module once he approached the subway terminal outside the Source Port Station he had left with his precious cargo. Rain pelted him harder than before, but he didn’t mind. The thought of the staff made him think of how lucky he was, lifestyle considered. He shuddered at the thought of anyone cutting off his balls. He liked his balls. They were precious, and what’s more, they now held within them his future. One blow of his load into a receiver could change his life forever. He could become one of the elite, one of the few who were treated like gods because the definition of a god was someone who manipulated the information transferrers carried. Perhaps the data he held within him was so important the local Oracle would have no choice but to accept him into their fold. Such was his dream.
He smiled. The tube module stopped. The Compiler Club loomed, a dark building not unlike all the others of the city, lit up just enough by neon to identify its purpose. He climbed out, careful not to let anything touch his genitals. The next few hours critical in ensuring the information stayed where it was supposed to. Any testicular damage now could ruin everything. His dream shattered.
A few men mingled at the doorway. They nodded, acknowledging him. They were all transferrers, either already storing data or about to. Tonight he didn’t see any staff in the streets. Unusual. The End Users and Oracles of society usually liked to have their eyes and ears present in every nook and cranny of the city, no matter how seedy.
The door was opened for him by two beautiful, but burly bouncers. Loud music, bass soaked and thumping, struck him. He was at home. He loved the Compiler Club, and many a night he would have gone to the booths and found himself a man who understood him and his ways. After some light kissing and petting and the sharing of alcohol to make him giddy and receptive, he would take his date up to his apartment in secrecy, trying his best to keep his liaison away from the suspicious stares of the staff which mingled with transferrers. Once there, and safe with the knowledge he hadn’t been seen, he would get to know the man better. Sometimes he would get lucky, and on rare occasions, would end up making love with the man until he was so exhausted his only care was sleep. Sure, such encounters didn’t account for true love, but Rava was young. Real love for the right man would come…eventually. He hoped.
Rava went straight for the bar, a stool perfect for him right now. He could spread his legs, let his balls cool a little bit quicker than if he chose a booth chair. Besides, he couldn’t have anyone tonight. No unauthorised ejaculations from now on until he met with his receiver. Solo sessions the only way until that moment and even then only if absolutely necessary. The more he came the less chance there was the information within his sperm was intact, his cybernetic implants only capable of doing so much. A corrupt transfer would do nothing for his future. Again, something he didn’t want. He hoped he got word of when he was to meet his receiver soon. There were plenty of hot men in the club tonight.