Chapter 1: A Kiss for a Kiss
Tyler hadn’t heard the first knocks at his front door. He was too busy rattling a protein shake and absently scrolling through post-gym selfies in his towel.
The second knock caught his attention. He swerved through the kitchen and tightened the knot of the towel. He poked his head around the corner just enough to show whoever was at the door that he was half naked. With a smirk he called out, “Just a sec!”
And then all emotion drained from his face. Standing at the door was a motionless figure. Dressed in full length robes and hood. The robes were emerald green, but silhouetted by the noon sun from behind, they looked almost black. A Scythe.
Death had come knocking.
Tyler froze. Passing a Scythe on the street was enough to make the heart race. But seeing one through the glass of his front door incited a new form of fear. Thirty seconds ticked by. And in that time, for the first time in his life, not a single thought ran through his head. It was a terror that ran so deep it hollowed out his mind.
“Could I come in?” By all definitions, this had been a question. But from the mouth of a Scythe, the words rang through the air with certainty, as if it were a statement. And in many ways it was. No matter Tyler’s answer, there was only one end to this encounter.
For a moment he considered asking to get dressed first. But he thought wiser than to make the Scythe wait any longer. And right as his shaking hand turned the lock, the man was in his home.
“Thank you.” He said flatly as he brushed past Tyler. “My name is Scythe Warhol. I have selected you for gleaning based on the following-“
“NO! Please, please, please! No! This can’t- I was just getting my life together- this time was gonna be different- please!” He could hardly form a coherent thought, much less express it in words. The tears welling up in his eyes, and the strain in his throat made it even worse. “Please! I have a girlfriend! I think for once I might- I- I don’t know. I think it’s love and I. I’ve just never experienced this before and, and. PLEASE!”
Scythe Warhol’s face gave no hint of emotion. His piercing blue eyes never wavering from their bored stare. He raised a blonde eyebrow at a few of Tyler’s words. But his demeanor remained the same.
Tyler rambled on for several minutes. It was around the “I’ll do anything!” Portions of his pleading that all of the heaving, deep breaths, and shaking loosened the knot of his towel. First his happy trail came to full view. Then his v-line and pubes. Until finally a cough incurred by all of the crying set the final nail in the coffin for his dignity. He tried to catch the towel, but amidst the chaos of his own cries he missed. It hardly occurred to him to pick it back up.
-SCYTHE WARHOL-
The scene unfolding in front of me was nothing new. There are usually three types of reactions to being gleaned. The oldest of the bunch have turned so many times and lived so many lives that being gleaned feels like an inevitability. It’s not how they wanted their day to go per se. But they usually go without a fuss. The second type are sad, but they’re usually more concerned with saying goodbye, having just one more day, or making sure they can arrange someone to take care of their pets once they’re gone.
And then there’s Tyler. Crying. Begging. Pleading. Trying to bargain. Offering themselves as slaves. It’s not that I don’t understand them. It’s scary, of course. The prospect of death in an age of scientific immortality. But it’s interesting to see how insanely desperate some people will get. And by that measure, nothing Tyler was saying or doing brought me any closer to sparing him.
I mean he was handsome. More so than most guys. But gleaning attractive people was the unfortunate consequence of hitting my quota through random selection.
But the nudity was new.
By that point I had been a Scythe for 8 years. Recruited at 18 and officially sworn in a year later. Somehow I’d never encountered someone naked. Sure there were some guys in boxers, bathing suits, sports gear, etc. But it occurred to me as my eyes quickly darted down to catch a glimpse of Tyler’s cock that it had been 8 years since I’d seen another man’s cock in real life. And a few very quick hookups in high school were all the experiences under my belt. I was chosen by my mentor because I was a strict rule follower. So when he told me I shouldn’t have sex - I listened. I obeyed. And I kept myself busy with toys for 8 years.
But when his towel dropped, something happened.
He was beautiful. The more I looked at him the more I thought he looked like Alain Delon. An actor from way back in the day who I only knew of because he showed up in a “Most Beautiful Men of the Mortal Age” article. But the fact that I even remembered his name and face says plenty about how enamored I was by his beauty.
Those eyes. Those lips. The perkiness of his pecs. The way his broad shoulders tapered down to a thin waist and dense, sinewy thighs.
His cock. It was the first one I’d seen in 8 years and it was a damn good one to see. He really had a perfectly sized flaccid. It was big enough to make the mind wander about how far it could go. But not so big that it was a novelty. Cut. With a very clean seam and an overall smoothness. He’d groomed his pubes. And -
Why was I staring at his cock. I was there to glean him.
I put a hand on his toned shoulder. It was time to get this over with. “Tyler. I’m so sorry. I understand this is hard.” I think he assumed once I touched him that I was about to kill him. He dropped to his knees in fear and started begging again.
“PLEASE.” He cried out, his face inches from my crotch. “I’ll do anything, please! I need to try again! I need to keep going! This time will be different! I swear!”
Those lips. They were so close.
“Tyler.” I said. Unsure of where I was going with my words. “Would you say that being a Scythe makes me less of a human?”
He looked up, confused. I liked the way he looked down there. Naked. With his cock and balls rested upon his thighs. Staring up at me with those teary eyes. All he could manage was “What?”
“It’s not a trick question. I promise. Do you think I’m any less human because I’m a Scythe?”
“N-no. I guess not. You’re still a man. Your job might be to ki- glean people. But you’re a human.”
I smirked. What was I about to do? “Correct. I’m a man. Through and through. From the hair on my chest… to a cock between my thighs.” I hesitated and took a deep breath. “Just a man.” I pulled my robe aside, revealing what had resulted from my wandering eyes. I then flashed my Scythe ring in his face. He went to kiss it, to be given immunity from gleaning for a year. I yanked it away quickly. “A kiss,” gesturing to my cock, “for a kiss.”
I could see the hesitation in his eyes. But a second glance at my ring was all it took for him to wipe away the tears. “So if I… if I suck your dick. You’ll- you’ll grant me immunity?”
It was hard to say yes. I was certain that I was breaking multiple Sycthedom commandments by even giving the option. But I didn’t care. “If you hadn’t been touched by someone in eight years, how generous do you think you would be? Given the chance.”
Tyler’s demeanor shifted. He understood. He was terrified for sure. Perhaps disgusted at the thought of what he needed to do. But sucking a man’s cock was a small price to pay for life. He lifted his ass off of his heels and propped himself fully on his knees. He reached for the button of my pants, and even his knuckles grazing my cock through fabric made me believe that this encounter was worth it.
He unzipped and opened my pants wide enough to see my briefs. They were green to match the rest of my ensemble. The fabric was soft and thin. And a small dot of precum had already seeped through and darkened the area around my tip.
He brushed his finger against the shaft a few times. Sizing it up and teasing me a bit. And it was working. In spite of myself I let out a few breaths of pleasure. It was more touching than I had felt in almost a decade. Every time his finger graced the tip, my entire cock pulsed and pulled at the fabric of my underwear. He eventually worked up the courage, pulled my waistband down and let my cock flop out and bobble in front of his face.
I never measured it. But it sat somewhere between 6 and 7 inches. It wasn’t the largest cock in the world. But certainty added to the intimidation for a first timer. And his wide eyed stare at it all but confirmed how nervous he was. But once it was out and bouncing in his face, I felt the hesitation growing. But there was no way I was letting him stop. “You know what you have to do, Tyler.”
He wrapped his fist around the base of my shaft, and with a determined look in his eye, he pressed his mouth forward, just over the tip. That was enough to get a full breathy “Fuck.” Out of me. I titled my head back as he worked the tip. His warm, soft lips cascaded over the ridge of the head. He worked his way down slowly. Letting more of my cock disappear into his mouth with each bob of his head. Eventually he went for it and let himself go as far as he could. My cock hit the back of his throat. And he stayed there, moving his head back and forth for as long as he could before he had to pull back from gagging.
He took a breath while he stroked my cock and recovered from the deep throat. His lips were wet with his saliva. And he licked them as he looked up at me. I wanted to look tougher. Like I was in control still. But the reality was that he was in control of me at that moment. I smirked as he gripped my cock harder, stroked it faster, and rammed his mouth back over it. I could see in the way he furrowed his eyebrows that there was no pleasure for him. But knowing how low he felt almost made it hotter.
Truthfully he wasn't half bad. I’m sure there were lessons learned from seeing his own cock sucked by girls over the years. What a sight that must be. He slowed down at times. Licked the tip sensually. Even grabbed my balls at one point. I got close three times and had to pull his head back by his hair. He looked up at me each time. Those gorgeous eyes staring up at me. Fuck.
I let him go again. But ready to finally blow my load, I whispered, “I want it on your face.” Luckily he understood. And after a few more slams against the back of his throat, my cock began to well with pleasure. Everything felt euphoric for a few seconds. Eight years of pent up lust and desire were quickly rising to the surface as my face started to tingle. It was a sensation like I had never known. Or had maybe just forgotten. My chest rose and fell quickly. Legs trembling. Ass clenched. I let out a grunt as my cock started erupting.
Seeing the cum land on his face was the most satisfying end I could have imagined. He shut his eyes just in time to avoid cum getting in them. And each time another splatter of cum landed, he winced. I don’t know how many times I shot. By the end of it, his face was dripping. His lips pressed tight to keep the pools of cum out.
I stood there and stared at him for a moment. How fucking sexy he was. How good his pecs looked every time he took a breath. I pressed my cock directly to his lips, one last time. He kissed it. I grabbed his towel from beneath him and wiped any cum from his eyes. I’d put my cock away with my other hand in the meantime. So I stood before him fully clothed. As if it were never out in the first place. And once he could open his eyes and see me, I placed my ring between his lips, and finally let him kiss it.
One blowjob in exchange for a year of immunity.
Well now that didn’t seem like a fair trade…
