This twenty-story gay male anthology is pure fiction. Nothing like this would happen in the real intelligence world. Wipe from your mind even the slightest thought that anything like this has already happened in the collection of intelligence down through the ages. There would never be a special unit in U.S. intelligence, for instance, that collected intelligence the time-honored way—by sexual purchase and subornation. There would certainly be no use of male homosexuality and society’s censure of that to recruit and control foreign intelligence assets as is fantasized in these stories It’s true that the easiest, most assured way of collecting intelligence is not torture. It, rather, is the “giving” to someone who knows what you want to know what they want most in exchange for information they know. So, do enjoy this collection of short stories on a fantasy depiction of the techniques and methods of collecting intelligence through gay male spy candy. But don’t for a moment think that it does happen or that it ever could. It’s pure fiction, yes it is.

Warnings: This title contains graphic language, m/m sex, fetish, and descriptions of virtual nonconsent.

Word Count: 82,625

EXCERPT:

Well, then,” Guido said, coming up on his knees and gathering the tangled sheeting around him, “who bathes first? Or do we do it together?”

“I’ll go first,” Dieter answered, and he flicked his cigarette out over the balcony and stood up straight, nearly six and a half feet of sinew and power. “You need to cover yourself before I return from the shower, though, or I’ll surely be late.”

Guido waited until he heard the shower start and then he darted out of the bed and over to his jacket and extracted a small digital camera. The colonel had left his briefcase by the door, beside a small desk, the surface of which Guido found very convenient as he slipped documents out of the briefcase and photographed them as quickly as he could. He was only half finished with the papers he had found in the briefcase, though, before he heard the water being shut off in the shower.

He barely had everything back in order and was on the bed once again, when Kielman came out of the bathroom, naked, and rubbing his wet hair with a towel.

“God, I told you to cover yourself,” he muttered in a throaty voice.

Guido was on his back, the small of his back arched up on a pillow, his legs spread, and one leg held up by one of his hands. His pert little balls and hole were pointed at the bathroom door.

“Sorry,” he whispered and then fluttered his eyelashes at the German. “Just doing some exercises while I waited. You’ve seen my cabaret act. You know a boy has to be limber.” And then he added, in his huskiest voice. “But are you sure you have appointments you have to go to? I see a luscious German flagpole standing at attention.”

Kielman was on Guido like a lion on a gazelle. He was at the foot of the bed in two long strides, grabbed the little Belgian by his hips, and lifted him up and slammed Guido’s slack hole back on his reengorged cock, achieving a bull’s eye in one swift slide. Guido’s weight had gone back on his shoulder blades, as his pelvis was now suspended up in the air, being slammed hard back and forth on Kielman’s impaling cock. Guido’s fists scrabbled at the tangled sheeting and his legs flopped back and forth akimbo as the powerful German pumped him hard. He was crying out and groaning and grunting and writhing under the onslaught of the ravishing German colonel’s powerful cock.

Guido’s small balls were slammed up into his body with each of Kielman’s savage thrusts, and his thin, boylike penis hardened up and dribbled into a great spill, as he cried out at Kielman’s taking being exactly what he wanted—just as Kielman had told him. Kielman arched his back and roared at the ceiling and ejaculated deep inside Guido’s ass.

“Now see what you’ve done,” Kielman said in a stern tone, but with a wide smile on his face, when he had let Guido’s spent body fall off of his cock and onto the bed. “Now I will definitely be late for my afternoon appointment. Now I will have to take another shower.”

Guido lay there, panting, collecting his strength, genuinely close to exhaustion as he listened for the shower again. As soon as the water started, he dragged himself off the bed and over to, first, his jacket, where the digital camera was, and then to the briefcase by the door, and once more started taking sheets of paper out of the briefcase and laying them on the desk top and snapping away with the camera.

He did enjoy fucking, but the German colonel was almost too brutal for him. The things he did for the Americans, he was thinking, as he once more heard the water stop in the shower and he reached for his trousers. He’d need to be at least half dressed this time. He’d photographed enough, and he didn’t think he could survive another cocking just now from the dominating Colonel Kielman, assistant to the assistant German attaché at NATO headquarters.