Tags: anthology, gay, paranormal, science fiction
Wired Hard: Erotica for a Gay Universe
edited by Cecilia Tan
Word Count: 29,500
List Price: $5.99
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What happens when you combine gay male sensibilities, homoerotic fantasies, and futuristic, fantastic fiction? You get Wired Hard.
High-tech cruising in the 21st century. A slant-wise look at the military ban and one man’s avoiding it. The psychodrama of non-monogamy, especially when some of the participants are Undead. Visions of the post-AIDS era.
These stories explore the erotic connection of one man to another, creating new landscapes, societies, technologies and possibilities along the way. No one of these stories tries to predict the future of gayness, and yet each one shows that there is so much beyond sex in being gay that whatever the future may hold for human sexuality there will always be gay universes to explore.
Includes work by Gary Bowen, Mason Powell, David Laurents, Leo Scott, and more.
Look under the cut for a hot excerpt…
Excerpted from Deep Six by Gary Bowen
Jeff sat on his bunk in The Company dormitory and looked miserably at his accumulated stack of pink chits. He had turned in all the brown chits for movies and concerts, no problem. He had spent all the green chits in The Company store for pressure suit repairs and new workboots. He had earned a single white chit: one day of shore leave. The men gambled brown, green, and pink chits freely, but never the whites. After three months at the bottom of the sea, Jeff had learned why. The opportunity to go topside, to breathe some real air instead of the stale processed stuff, to eat some real food instead of the cafeteria slop, to walk without running into walls, or proctors (better known as Company Pricks); all these things were simple pleasures earned by the white chits, and not a man undersea would give them up, not for any price, not for any inducement.
But the pink chits, now those were his problem. He had too many. Earlier this afternoon as he and his foreman had come back through the air lock together the Old Man had commented, “You know, Jeff, I give out those chits as bonuses for hard work and a good attitude, which is why you’ve got so many of them. You better start spending them or else The Company’s going to start wondering if maybe you’re queer or something.”
‘Well, sir,” he’d answered. “I appreciate your confidence in me, but I’m not too fond of paying for what I used to get free topside. It seems to me that sex ought to be the expression of something personal, and not a commercial transaction.”
The supervisor gave the newbie a patronizing look, false dimples appearing at the comers of his mouth in a caricature of a paternal smile. “Nobody’s giving it away down here, son, nobody except the gayboys, and you want to stay away from that lot. Believe me, you’ll get used to the morale officers. Heck, most men come to like ‘em. Women who can’t say no, not to anything! It’s in their contract. Take advantage of it, boy.”
“Yes sir,” he answered, feeling sick to his stomach.
So he sat on his bunk in blue jeans and white tee shirt, staring miserably at the pink chits, each one of which entitled him to a half hour with a morale officer, a woman who was nothing more than a Company Whore–and they were the only women in the dome city. At first Jeff had thought a city of men would be a fantasy come true, but he was finding out The Company had other ideas. He ran a hand through blond sheepdog curls and decided he ought to get a crewcut to achieve the manly image The Company doted on.
“Hey, what a great stack of chits! Your foreman must really love you!”
Juanito strode naked across the room leaving wet footprints on the floor. He was tall and well-muscled, his chest covered in coarse black hair, arms and legs corded by muscle, his belly a little paunchy on account of too much beer, but a good body in spite of that. He was still damp from his shower, and as he toweled his hair little drops of water shook free and splattered Jeff, giving him goosebumps.
Jeff glanced at the swarthy cock swinging free and the loose sack of balls bouncing against hairy legs, wondered what they’d taste like, then forced himself to look at the man’s face. He absolutely did not want his roommate to guess what was going through his mind–and
“Hi, Juanito. Yeah, I guess Beecher likes me. Want some?”
His eyes lit up. “You serious?”
“Hey, we’re pals, right?”
Jeff had the urge to shove the whole stack at him, but knew it would come off funny. So he picked a couple out of the pile and handed them to him.
“Hey, thanks! I’m gonna spend ‘em right now!”
Jeff smiled in relief. “Have fun.” The numbers on the chits were registered to him; when Juanito spent them in the brothel, it would be noted on Jeff’s payment statement. The Company would never know that Jeff had not personally used them.
Juanito rapidly skinned into a clean pair of jeans and a plaid shirt, brushed off his workboots, and with a flash of bright smile, said, “See ya later.” He held up the two pink chits. “About an hour later, unless she falls in love with me!” He winked conspiratorially, then breezed out.
Jeff sighed again, and decided it was time to beat off. But a key scraped in the lock so he quickly zipped his jeans.
“Hi, Roomie,” said Alan, banging through the door with a couple of bags. He was blonde and short, a possibly attractive face marred by acne scars. “Hey, where’s Mike? He was supposed to meet me here.”
“Ain’t seen him. What’s up?”
Alan laughed. “Been shopping. New shirts, cigarettes, beer, dirty videos. Wanna join us?”
Jeff resisted the urge to make a more physical interpretation of the offer. “No, thanks. I got me a bunch of pink chits that need spending.” He rose to his feet, showing the chits, then sauntered out.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Alan yelled after him.
“I’ll do what you never did!” Jeff retorted. “I’ll make her beg for more!”
Alan flipped him the finger in a good natured sort of way. Jeff smiled tightly in response. “Same to ya.” He let the door close.
Where to go, what to do? Most importantly, who to do? He would never find anyone, not with the way The Company had driven his kind into the closet.
But there was one thing the pink chits were good for: privacy. He practically ran to the entertainment district.
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