Jackson has completed his Service and now is travelling the world aimlessly. He knows what kind of man he wants, but can never find him. When Octavian appears to him one morning, Jackson is unsure of what to do with the naked dream-man in front of him. Octavian only briefly hesitates before disappearing again. He is a recluse, and Jackson is determined to fuck with him before moving on in his travels. It is not that simple for Octavian…
An excerpt from the diary of Jackson Jurgovan.
June 10, 2019
This morning I am headed to Zurich by train.
Hungover from my last night in Luzurne.
Party by the lake last night turned into a total orgy.
There were four marked men there, which was a nice change.
Went back to the hotel with a huge Swiss man named Gunther. I think he was a forester of some type, but I couldn’t really understand him.
Gunther was taller than me and I loved how he towered over me while he bent me in half and fucked down into me. Too bad he had a skinny dick, but it was long enough to give me pause. We fucked three times before I told him to get out.
Caught the train to Zurich at eleven and should be there by one. After eating lunch, my hotel room should be ready for me to check in.
I had drunk way too much at the party and after sleeping it off on the train, I realized that I was super-lucky to have gone back to the hotel with Gunther who was a real gentleman. Marked men weren’t supposed to display such risky behavior, but I had been incredibly lucky so far in my life and I continued to press my luck. My father would have been quite disappointed in me, but I was sowing my oats, and they were wild.
I was living in a world full of men, the huge majority of them non-marked. Non-marked men, or NOMARs, were sexually attracted to women, which our world did not contain. Marked men, like me, were sexually attracted to men and therefore were highly prized in this world. We were called marked, because on the very moment of our thirteenth birthdays, each one of us received a blue mark on the side of our face—each one as unique and different as a fingerprint. Mine was a brilliant blue flame that ran from the bottom of my earlobe to the middle of my chin. I was quite proud of it.
I woke up on the morning of my thirteenth birthday, to see my mark. I had slept through whatever miracle happened. Although the mark hadn’t appeared until that morning, I had felt it coming for quite a while. I had already begun to feel sexual urges about the older boys in my school, so I was not surprised to see the blue mark staring at me from the mirror.
I remember asking my father if there had been other marked men in our family. He told me that he didn’t know anything about our family, since my grandfather had died so early in his life. There were no pictures or family history left to him. Dad had seemed okay with the appearance of my mark, but also looked worried for me.
It was a dangerous world for a marked man—full of traps everywhere. I learned a lot that first year as many older boys and even men tried to seduce, bully, or fast-talk their way into my pants. I was bigger than most kids, so I was lucky to escape most of these interactions unscathed.
I found myself attracted to older men most of all. I’m not sure if it was their experience or their fully formed masculinity that did it for me, but I was all about them. I finally lost my virginity to one of my father’s poker buddies a couple of years after my mark appeared. Once I had a taste of sex, it was all over for me and that was all I could think about.
I went to The Service Academy when I turned sixteen and it was there where I learned how to properly service a man, sexually. The SA was a school only for marked men, and I reveled in being around so many guys like myself. There were no other marked men in my town that I knew of.
When I turned eighteen, I entered The Service. This was a program for marked men where an agency would match up a marked man with a very wealthy NOMAR for a period of a year. The NOMAR basically got a sex slave for a year, and the marked man got a million dollars for each year he stayed with him. I couldn’t wait to be rich and I dreamed of a sexy NOMAR daddy whom I would fall in love with.
My time in The Service didn’t quite work out for me the way I wanted it to, but I had no regrets. My Master, Sully, was an overweight Italian mob boss. I was not really attracted to him at the start, but eventually found his clumsy advances charming. He really liked me and the mob had beautiful Italian men in it, so I was always happy to ride someone else’s cock.
Sully and his crew taught me how to protect myself—how to use a blade and how to fire a gun. They also taught me how to hide money from the government, which I didn’t think I would need to do, but it was nice to know. Sully kept me in the Service for four years, so I had a huge payday at the end of my Service. I would always be grateful for the protection that the mob provided for me, and that was probably why I traveled through Europe without a bodyguard with me.
Switzerland was a very safe country, but I would definitely have to contract with a protection company before I went any further into Europe. Some NOMARs would love to kidnap me and tie me onto their beds. The laws were very strict about that, of course, but NOMARs could be crazy when they were horny.