Free Story of the Week

Workers and Techs


By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
Artwork (c) 2003 by Rebel Rotica


Illustration for Workers and Techs

[Full disclosure: The first part of this story has turned out to have a lot of the plotline of an old Robert Heinlein story. I didn't mean to do this, I just needed my lead character in a similar situation and found myself with no other good way to get him there than to repeat the Heinlein plotline a great deal. So while this is not coincidental per se, it is not, at least to me, plagiarism, I borrowed ideas, not expressions of the ideas, and I did take the story in a totally different direction after its start.]

It all started with too much alcohol. Brenn and Stidd were debating the lifestyle of the Workers. "They have it as good as we do," Stidd kept insisting, "within the limits of their abilities, they can rise or fall, the same as we."

"But we Techs have all the best paying jobs." Brenn countered. "The Workers are bound to resent us for living better than they do, even though they work as many, or more, hours than we do every week."

Stidd scoffed, "If they'd paid attention in school and learned a proper trade, they'd be living the way we do."

"But the Workers perform a useful function in society." Breen insisted. "If the Workers weren't doing those tasks, society would break down the same as if we stopped doing our jobs."

"So let them do their jobs." Stidd half-agreed as he poured them another shot from the bottle they were sharing; it was their fourth.

"But why should their labor be worth less than ours?" Brenn went on.

Brenn and Stidd were Techs, discussing the other major class of human society in this eighty-third year of the Twenty-Second Century. Society hadn't quite diverged into two separate branches of Mankind as H.G. Wells had predicted in this year, but you could see it coming indeed. And it was all due to the state of modern technology.

The Techs would be the equivalent of the "Eloi," the upper caste, but they were far from useless. Techs tended the many machines that did all the many laborious tasks that Man used to have to do. The machines did the farming, the factory line productions, the many-faceted parts that used to require human muscle and effort. They were all now filled by machines, with two exceptions. First was the Techs, the Men who worked on and designed and repaired the malfunctioning machines, decided where they were needed and how many and how to get them there, how to supply them with the power they needed, and so on.

The second, the "Morlocks" if you will, were the Workers, the Men who did the mundane labor tasks that machines either did not or could not do. Oh, such jobs still existed, after all, no machine yet could do any complicated task perfectly. There were jobs they missed, or jobs that still required a human touch, and the Workers were the ones that did those jobs. For much less money, as Brenn was pointing out, but the tasks required no special training, just a pair of willing hands, which was Stidd's counterpoint, he argued to let the Workers work the jobs that required no higher education and let the Techs reap the benefits of their special talents and years of training.

If they'd had this argument sober, it would have remained just that. The last thing Brenn remembered of that evening was that they had turned from that point to a related one, whether the Worker's duties were truly unspecialized, or if it was labor so generalized that anyone could do it.

That was as far as his memory of that evening went, worse luck for Brenn.

He awakened some time later to find himself lying on a mattress on the floor of a room that had seen better days (like fifty years ago), and a bell was ringing. Oh, God, his head, it was splitting!

Then the voice, which was just as skull-splitting. "First Shift! First Shift!" it announced. "All Workers for First Shift must vacate quarters in fifteen minutes. First Shift must...." And it went on again and again.

Brenn did get up and get dressed, in the only things in the room, a pair of Worker's coveralls. It covered his body and even came with "pajama-footie" type footwear sewn in and he heard men outside, opened the door to see others dressed as him filing past. "Where are you going?"

"Breakfast." one man said as if the question were stupid. "Better hurry up if you want anything besides oatmeal."

Brenn's stomach gurgled and he went with the others. When he saw the men paying for their meals, he reached into his coveralls' pocket and pulled out a Worker's ident. It had his photo and name and personal data, but described him as a Worker Class IX, the lowest level! What the hell?

A conversation after breakfast (which was oatmeal, he had been too late after all) with the shift supervisor cleared some things up. He'd come in yesterday, still roaring drunk, and pounded the table, demanding a job. "You said something about a bet with a friend and you'd show him." The supervisor concluded.

"But this is ridiculous!" Brenn complained. "I need to get back to my own job, or I'll lose ranking!"

The supervisor shook his head. "You signed up and took the employment bonus. Donated it, actually, all of it. So until you pay us back that bonus, you have to work for us."

"I did?" Brenn was dumbfounded, Worker's chits were something the Workers had to buy to purchase things like the company housing and food. "So how did I pay for the room last night and the breakfast this morning?"

"Chit credits." the supervisor informed him. "They'll take the cost of the credits out of your first check. Now head to Department "42" for assignment to your new job, apprentice!"

Brenn spent the next five minutes finding out that all the available phones wouldn't accept anything but actual cash (he couldn't call for help!) before reporting to work. Well, it served him right. He'd work through the week, get his paycheck, then call Stidd and get him to transfer money to him, enough to buy his ass out of here! If only he'd brought his Tech card with him on this little expedition! He was stuck here!

The work was boring, dirty, demeaning and endless! He spent the first shift working various over Tech's apartments, the cleaning bots handled cleaning all the major surfaces, he had the delicate and mentally challenging duty of working on such things as the corners, edges, small things the bots skirted, such as that, a "maid" if you will. A cleaning cloth in one hand, a bottle of sanitizer in the other, he went around the rooms, and no matter how careful he was, the supervisor who checked on his work kept snagging him about missing this piece or that! And to make matters worse, he discovered that these errors cost him money as he had to pay for the worker who corrected his errors! At this rate, he'd end the week owing money to the company, if this continued, he would never get out of this place!

He learned this much; he wasn't even in his home town, he'd traveled almost a thousand miles to a city where nobody knew him. What the hell kind of bet had he made with Stidd anyway? And did Stidd even know he was here? And if not, how would he be rescued? His memory was frustratingly blank on all of these points, washed away by alcohol!

His second, third and fourth days were no better. He tallied up his charges and figured if he skipped both breakfast and supper, eating only one meal, he could just break dead even for the week, and would be right back where he started from. He'd gotten no better at his job of cleaning apartments, so what else could he do? Staying on the job was intolerable!

He'd formed a tentative friendship with the man who'd spoken to him that first day, an older man who worked as a street cleaner, the same job Brenn had, only outdoors. He confided his problem to the man, named Slazz (which may have been a nickname, Brenn didn't know him that well yet) and concluded, "So I'm stuck here, when if I could get hold of my friend, I could buy my way out of here in no time."

Slazz listened with an air that Brenn couldn't quite identify, like he didn't believe a word Brenn had said and Brenn realized that he'd sounded a bit like a con man trying to squeeze money from Slazz. Then Slazz shrugged and said, "Well, if you need to make a call, you either have to have the money, or you need a way to access the phone system without money."

Brenn knew enough about technology to recognize what Slazz was suggesting. System hacking had been around for over a hundred years, as long as computer technology, in fact, and was still going strong. He didn't have any training in that line, though. "Well, I'm not that kind of Tech." he demurred, "And even if I were, I'd have to have access to the telephone system, and I don't."

"You don't." Slazz nodded significantly. "But Vel does." he pointed across the room.

One end of the room was for higher-caste Workers, men who had their own full-time apartments and a salary that gave him perks people on Brenn's level (new level as a beginning Worker, that is) could only dream of. They had separate tables, and were served a lavish meal of the finest delicacies, not bland oatmeal or reconstituted eggs and sausage made from recovered pork (a process Brenn had had to have explained to him then made him sickened...but it was this meat or no meat at all for a low-caste Worker such as he).

But Vel was busy demolishing a meal that made Brenn's mouth water, for it was loaded with fresh eggs and real meat and some of the largest, fluffiest pancakes he'd seen in many a day! Vel was a large man, massively brawny, hairy enough that it poked out of the neck of his coveralls (hand-tailored coveralls that fit his body perfectly, not like Brenn's baggy, ill-fitting, coarse-material things) and crawled over his wrists beneath the sleeves. He was talking to someone at the next table, guffawing so much that food fell out of his mouth and onto the tabletop. Some low-level Worker would have to clean up that mess, cleaning up not after the Techs, but one of their own kind.

"So how do I convince him to help me?" he asked Slazz.

"Leave everything to me, just show up after shift, Corridor 7, Room 421." Slazz told him.

Brenn had known that there were activities he could do during his off-hours, but hadn't known how to access them yet. Well, if he had to go further into debt to participate tonight, what did he really have to lose?

But Corridor 7 turned out to be the quarters for higher-level Workers and Room 421 was Vel's own personal quarters. He rang the bell, suddenly nervous, he hadn't expected a face-to-face conversation so quickly!

Vel answered the door and Brenn saw that the man was a full head's worth taller than Brenn's own six foot! He couldn't imagine the woman who could birth such a man as this, she must have split in two from the act of giving birth! "Ah, there you are!" Vel said to Brenn. "Get in here!"

Brenn walked in and saw the sort of apartment that was almost what he would have lived in. A few more things would be in his, he supposed, but it was comfortable, and sported luxuries and even items bought for sheer beauty.

Vel himself was wearing clothing much like Brenn would wear on a comfortable evening, even if he hadn't buttoned his shirt all the way up (and that hairiness was more pronounced than ever, a full mat of fur was on that chest and left his pale skin a dark black from the neck down with only a few stray wisps of pale skin underneath showing through.

"So you're the one Slazz sent over, eh?" Vel asked him. "Care for a drink?"

"Yes, please." Brenn said. "Gin and water if you have it."

Vel just nodded and opened a cabinet that was well-stocked, it rivaled Brenn's own liquor cabinet. Brenn regretted not asking for a more complex drink. He brought the glass over to Brenn and said, "So, drink that and we'll get to it, then."

"Fair enough." Brenn decided not to broach the request first, he instead asked about Vel's life and got a fair picture of it. Vel had been active in his school in physical activities, upon graduation, he had taken a job at Brenn's own level, but performed his duties so well, he'd quickly climbed the ladder of success (for Workers, that is) until he had reached his current level some three years ago. He'd stopped struggling, instead choosing to expand his personal comfort and spending his efforts in pursuits of various pleasures. Brenn realized that Vel represented a success story in his own right, not one of wealth, but one of a man who lived his life on his own terms and didn't ask for more than he already had. He finished his drink and said, "I wish I'd had your luck," he started, to work the conversation over to his own plight.

"Don't worry, you'll get there, just hard work and a bit of extra on your time off, that's all you need. You have a good start here." Vel told him as he moved over closer to Brenn on the couch.

"That wasn't what I meant." Brenn started and was about to admit his true status when Vel suddenly moved on him.

He had fallen over onto one side, his head on the headrest, and had Vel's body on top of him on the couch, Vel's brawny arms pulling his lower body further down the couch and then their bodies were matched up and Brenn felt the organ in Vel's crotch pressing against his own groin, the huge pud in there erect and throbbing and Vel was grunting as he worked at Brenn's coverall zipper (Brenn owned only the single piece of clothing at present and it was none too clean or fresh-smelling after several days of wear on the job), and his lips worked on Brenn's cheek and lips and chin, it was like Vel was trying to taste his face all over at once.

"Wait, wait, oh, oh!" Brenn gasped in surprise and dismay. "I came to ask your help...."

"Yeah, I know, I help you and you help me." Vel told him. "That's what we're doing here, you help me and I'll help you."

"Oh." Brenn digested this. "Did Slazz tell you what I need?"

"I talked with Slazz." Vel agreed. "Now shut up and help me get this shit off of you. I want you naked, fast."

Brenn didn't dare hesitate, he needed to make a single phone call, and Vel was his one chance to do it. He shut up and Vel rose up onto one massive hand and the other unzipped Brenn's coverall down to his waist and below. Vel murmured approvingly that Brenn wore nothing underneath it, and his lips moved into the opening as his hands pulled the coverall over Brenn's shoulders. Soon Brenn was bare to the waist and the large man above him was feasting on Brenn's breasts, arms, shoulders, armpits, Vel's tongue danced about under Brenn's left arm and Brenn felt a sudden surge of pleasure and incipient passion rising in response. His big man, strong, powerful, successful, rich (by Brenn's recently-altered circumstances) was loving on him, and while he did, Brenn felt once again successful, rich and powerful himself, and his body turned that into desire.

Driven by that desire, he began to actively help Vel make love to him, stroking the big body, urging him to divest himself of that unbuttoned shirt entirely, and he saw at last the unfettered glory of that chest fur, it was a forest of hairs that covered most of Vel's front, the thick thatch beckoned and Brenn ran his fingers into that blanket of hair and his fingers closed ranks, caught a double handful of the man-fur and gave it a gentle tug. Vel crooned like a walrus, "Oooooooooh!"

He rose from the couch and shucked the rest of Brenn's coveralls from his body like he was peeling a banana. His own lower garments were removed with equal vigor and then the hairy, nude body pressed itself against Brenn's own and the hair was like silken strands caressing his body all over at once!

Vel's hands brought from someplace a tube of lubricant and he smeared his cock (a thick gray salami that stuck out from the dense tangle of kinked hairs that was his pubic region) until it was a gleaming love-tube of mal desire. Then his hands, still slick with the leftover lube grasped Brenn's ankles and lifted his legs high and then the salami was seeking to make a sandwich with his butt-cheeks the bun into which it was to join in gastronomic fruition.

Brenn felt the prong as it cleaved his buttocks and touched then penetrated the flower of his nether regions between and he moaned. He had engaged in occasional male-male sexual encounters in the past, but not recently, and he expected his body to be near-virginal in its behavior. Instead, the thick grease of the lube combined with the lusty feel of his body as it drew power from the heavy stud on top of him, and the sphincter twitched, opened, spread like a blossom for the bee to drink its nectar.

Vel's prick plowed into him and Brenn cried out in his pleasure at being possessed, for here was his salvation, his future, his restoration, his LIFE! He watched Vel's face as the man entered him, watching the joy of his tight anus stroke itself over Vel's shaft and that translated into a softness that escaped weakness, it was the soft features of a man staring down into his newborn child's face and swearing to himself that he would protect this fragile being with his very life! And he was the infant that was thus promised.

Vel let out a sigh and then began to move, his turgid cock slid in and out of Brenn's bowels, and he moaned in tandem to the strokes, for it was his own ecstasy expressing itself as he was fucked by this huge man's pud, and he clutched to Vel's broad chest-barrel with both arms and wished only that this moment could endure forever.

Vel's strokes sped up in their tempo, he was caught up in his lust and Brenn clung to him, moaning in his own increasing desire as the thick dong pumped at his prostate, Brenn's body was covered in waves of delight that crashed against his senses on all levels and forced him into higher and higher responses, Brenn went from moans to audible sounds of "Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh!" as he was rammed by Vel's hearty strokes and he determined that when Vel paused for rest, he would take control and give this big man as good as he'd been receiving by riding that dong for all he was worth!

This powerful man didn't need to rest, though, his strong muscles scoffed at this exercise being draining, he humped at Brenn even harder now, slamming his massive man-muscle into Brenn's intestines at a speed that was more than once a second, perhaps more than twice a second, even, so quickly did Vel's hips slap at Brenn's buttocks to drive the broad tool into the warm pudding of Brenn's innards.

And Brenn's climax rose and assaulted his body and he cried out, clutched Vel's hairy body convulsively, and sprayed a thick load of juice all over the thick fur of Vel's abdomen, and as that warm bath doused him, Vel threw his head back, shoved his dong in deep and howled in his own orgasm, unleashing a heavy flood of jizz into Brenn's body, and Brenn felt the wave of white spunk splashing about inside his body and with that, he sank into a blissful state of dormancy as Vel completed his own ecstasy and the massive body sank onto Brenn's body, squashing him absolutely flat....

He roused a bit later, to find Vel's hand playing with his hair, stroking it much as a doting father caresses the hair of his sleeping child and he smiled up into the strong face and said, "I enjoyed that as much as you, I think."

"More, rather." Vel agreed. "You were worth every penny of your price to me."

"What price?" Brenn asked.

He listened to the answer in horror, then declared, "I am no man-whore to sell his body! I spoke with Slazz who suggested I talk to you about my problem."

"He told me he had a willing man who would take my tool in completely for the right price." Vel responded, beginning to storm up. "Am I to understand you now have your own price for our lovemaking?"

"No, not the lovemaking, but an offer of a deal, help me now and I'll repay you for your aid." Brenn went on, and outlined his plight.

"So you just need to call your friend?" Vel asked when he was done.

"That's it." Brenn admitted. "When I am back home, I can send you a handsome payment for this. I'd wait and earn it for myself, but I find I am a worthless Worker and will only sink deeper into debt rather than succeed as you have."

"Well, then, let's take care of that right now." Vel said. "And when I am convinced you are for real, then we'll talk about the price."

"Agreed. Brenn said and what came after this was almost anticlimactic. Except in one respect.

Three days later, he was back in his old apartment with Stidd, again sharing a bottle. "So how did you like being a Worker?" Stidd asked him.

"It was a terrible life for me." Brenn admitted. "But a Worker that perseveres can earn his way to a decent life, one with no talent for the work sinks into a pit from which he can never arise. Still, even the most successful of them cannot match us entirely as I said before."

"A poor Worker deserves to sink." Stidd said firmly, then looked up in surprise as the door to Brenn's apartment opened without any other signal.

Brenn went over and greeted his guest with a kiss. "I should introduce you to Stidd, as he is the one responsible, in a way, for us getting together. Stidd, I'd like you to meet Vel, who rescued me. He has returned with me and taken a job here in town. He's staying with me of course."

"Of course." Stidd was uncomfortable to see a member of the Worker class in his social circle, obviously and he looked at his watch and blurted out, "I must return to my own home now if you'll forgive me." He practically sprinted out the door and Brenn suppressed a smirk at the sight of his arrogant buddy fleeing before Vel's pedestrian majesty.

When Stidd was gone, Brenn said, "How are you finding your new job?"

"Much the same as the old one." Vel admitted. "I didn't mean to chase off your friend."

"He'll come around, or quit coming around, one or the other." Brenn said, "Now, if you're ready, I'll send for food and we'll eat before we retire." He still had a debt to repay as a result of his little adventure, and if life was good to him, he'd spend the rest of his life paying it off in full.

THE END
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