Joel Chapter 1

Another Life: Chapter 1

Joel moaned as his body spasmed when another seizure wracked his body.   For the last week, his body had suffered through many seizures that had been caused by a high fever.  The fever was finally leaving his body, and Joel was starting to wake.

He had little memory of that week or what had happened during that time, but as his limbs slowly relaxed from the violent thrashing the seizure had produced, Joel felt deft, sure hands rolling his body to take away the soiled bedding beneath.   Mumbling as he weakly tried to turn away from the large hands that bathed the waste from his body, Joel heard a hard voice.

"Stop.  Let me clean you or your skin will be raw." The hands continued to wash him as the voice continued, "I know you're sick, but that won't stop me from swatting you, if you keep on fighting me."

Swat.  Joel let the word echo through his head as his mind tried to grasp the meaning.   All he could think of was that of swatting a fly. Killing it.  Killing him. That thought had Joel increasing his struggles.

"No.  Stop.  Leave me alone," he mumbled, trying to twist away.   That large hand that had been bathing him suddenly landed sharply on his bare ass.  The swat stung and immediately, Joel ceased all movement.

"I thought you said he was a dominant?" another voice said by his head.

"Yes, I do think he's a dominant.  That doesn't mean he doesn't still have consequences.  Now, hand me those sheets.  He's clean, and his fever is breaking," the hard voice said.

The word consequences rolled about in Joel's head, finding a long forgotten memory of school days.   He drifted into a fever induced flashback of a character education assembly in high school.   The new catch phrase of positive behavior supports had been bandied about so much that it became mocked by students and staff alike.  However, government control of the school system demanded that teachers talk about how all behaviors have consequences and to keep children from becoming violent, only good choices were to be acknowledged.  Bad behavior wasn't punished, just talked to death of how to make better choices.   Consequences had become undefinable to all.

Those hands that had embarrassingly washed his ass, now turned him to lay flat on his back.  Joel struggled to open his eyes.   Tears he'd not noticed before blurred his vision.

"He's crying over that little smack?" the voice beside his head scoffed.

"Watch it," the stern voice cautioned. "Or you'll be feeling more than a swat."

The silence in the room was uncomfortable but Joel couldn't figure out why.

"Sorry," the voice beside his head finally mumbled.

"I keep hearing that.  You need to think before you speak," the voice said sternly, then softening a fraction continued, "the tears are a mixture of embarrassment, fear, and illness.  He probably doesn't even know he's crying."

Joel decided it was him they were talking about as he started sobbing.  He was crying, and he didn't even know it until the hard voice had spoken.  A cool damp cloth was gently wiped over his face as the voice hushed him.

"Here, now.  It's ok.  You're ok.  All of you have gone through this illness, but none of you have died yet."

All of you?  Joel thought.  All of who?   Before he could think that through, Joel started to drift off to sleep again.  His eyes popped open as those hands once again moved his body.

"No, no.  Don't go to sleep just yet." The voice was stern again as hands pulled him into a semi sitting position.  "Let me feed you some broth.  You need nutrients in your body."

Joel reached out to take the wooden spoon that was in front of his face but soon found his hand smacked.

"I said, let ME feed you.  Not feed yourself," the hard voice became harder.

Resentment tried to flare inside Joel, but he found he was too weak to let it take hold.  Opening his mouth, he allowed the spoon in.  Swallowing the rich broth, Joel opened his mouth, greedy for more.

"Yes, that taste good doesn't it," the voice said.  "I think you're over the worst of it.  Once you've got something in your belly and a few more days rest, you'll be fine."

Joel let his eyes drift shut about half way through the bowl of broth.   He jerked back awake when the voice said, "You need to finish this.  Come on.  Wake up.  Do I need to swat you again?"

The word swat now had a meaning to it, and one he didn't want repeated.  He murmured, "I'm awake.  Just can't keep my eyes open."

"A couple more bites and I'll let you sleep," the voice promised.

Joel dutifully opened his mouth for the remaining spoonfuls of the broth.  He obeyed the voice instantly when it said, "you're done.  You can sleep now.  Sleep and heal."

Clean, with fresh linens on his bed and a full stomach, Joel had no trouble falling into a restful, healing slumber.



Slowly waking, Joel rolled over, groaning softly at the soreness of his body. In this half-sleep, half wakefulness, he couldn't understand why his body ached so much. As memories of the earthquake came flooding back, Joel quickly sat up.

His brain was trying to process the images his eyes was sending to it. He was sitting in a bed; an actual bed, not blankets and tarps bundled together that had been his sleeping place in the basement of the apartment complex. The walls of this room were smooth wood and clean, yet the walls in the basement were concrete and dirty. Everything was clean and bright as sunlight streamed through the window.

Joel, hearing voices behind the door, tried to get out of bed. He hadn't counted on his legs being so weak, he fell in a heap on the floor as the door opened.

"Here, now!"

"Are you alright?"

Two voices spoke at once and Joel looked up to see two men rushing toward him. One man large and muscular, the other smaller but still with well defined muscles.  They both looked healthy.  And strong.

Throwing up his hands, a weak attempt to protect himself, he mumbled, "I'm fine. I'm fine."

Strong hands curved around his body and he felt himself lifted up and put on the bed, before he finished his last, I'm fine.

"You are NOT fine. You might be feeling a little better, but you still need rest," the larger man said in a gruff voice. "We're going to take care of a few necessities, then we can talk. I'll answer your questions the best I can."

Joel looked at the large imposing man.  The man was tall as well as muscular.  Joel stared in wonder at the full, round face.  Everyone he knew was skeletal from lack of food. And dirty.  Water had been so precious, no one wasted it on cleaning clothes. But the man before him had clean clothes.  This man looked more fit and healthy than any person Joel had ever known; he quickly made the decision to wait until he felt stronger before trying to argue with him.

"My name is Archer, and this is my husband, Trey," The bigger of the two men said.

Joel couldn't help but smile when the man named Trey smiled and rolled his eyes as Archer spoke.

"He's not always this grumpy," Trey said seriously, but with a twinkle in his blue eyes.  "He's just been worried about you. You've been sick for  over a week."

Archer grumbled, "I'm not grumpy. I've been concerned. Let's take your temperature, and make sure you really are on the mend."

Joel hadn't had his temperature taken since he was a young boy. At that time, his mother had used a device that ran over his forehead and touched his temple. But the thermometer had batteries to keep it going, and once the disasters started, the factories and plants that built such things had been closed or destroyed. When Archer held up a long, slim glass tube, Joel had an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Let's not. I feel fine. No fever," He tried to assure the big man.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I phrase that as a question?" Archer looked amused with his full mouth curving into a half-smile. "Because it wasn't."

"Oh stop being all dominant, Archer," Trey scolded. "He doesn't understand."

Huffing loudly, Archer quirked his eyebrow and said, "I can't stop being dominant. I AM dominant. Ok, listen. This is what's going to happen. I'm going to roll you over, and gently, insert this in your bottom. It won't hurt." Archer said quickly at the look on Joel's face.

"It really doesn't hurt," Trey agreed. "And in the right circumstance can be fun."

Joel watched in astonishment as Archer's face transformed into a loving look. The lips curving into a full smile transformed the harshness of his face.  The look he gave the smaller man was one of love.

The big man leaned over and kissed Trey, "Oh, my kinky one. Is it any wonder I love you so?" Then giving Joel a hard look, said, "Do I do this the easy way or the hard way?"

Joel, shocked by the easy affection the men showed each other in front of him, couldn't answer.  He was snapped out of his silent trance when Trey started chanting, "Easy way! Pick the easy way!"

Joel had heard of rectal thermometers, but they hadn't been used in probably a hundred years.  He really didn't want his temperature taken this way but knew he didn't have the strength to fight these two men, Joel reluctantly said, "ok, the easy way."

"Good. Now here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to slick the thermometer so it slides in easily, and it will stay there a few minutes. Like I said it won't hurt at all." Archer sat down on the bed, and gently pushed Joel back. "Lie down, and roll over to your right side. That's it. Don't be afraid. Now, bring your left knee up to you chest. Yes, now I have access."

Joel's fear of what the two men could do to him, overcame the fear of the small glass rod.  He knew his body was weak from years of living on limited calories.  His elbows and knees stuck out oddly from arms and legs that were stick thin.  Even Trey, who was smaller than him, appeared stronger.  Joel rolled over as Archer had instructed; feeling incredibly vulnerable. He stiffened as the blankets were pushed aside and the slim rod was slid inside him.

"You're doing fine. Just a few more minutes, then we'll know if you are on the mend." Concentrating on Archer's deep voice, Joel sent a silent prayer to whoever was listening that this be done soon.

Finally, Joel felt the glass tube slip from his bottom. He quickly rolled over and covered up his nakedness.


"Good, good. 98.6. Normal temp. But that doesn't mean you can run about. I want you to stay in bed a few more days. Trey, go get some of the broth on the fire. Oh, and bring some bread. Let's see if his stomach can handle something a little more solid."

As Trey ran to do Archer's bidding, Joel sat up. "Who are you guys? Where am I?"

Archer looked at him and smiled. "I'll answer all your questions, or as many as I can, while you eat breakfast. But first, as I've already seen your ass, I'd like to know YOUR name."

With a small laugh, Joel held out his hand and said, "Joel. My name is Joel."

After clasping Joel's hand and giving it a quick shake, Archer slapped a heavy hand on Joel's shoulder and helped him sit up.  "Well, Joel, it seems you are finally on the mend.  Our next course of action is to fatten you up, you're too thin. We need to get you healthy."

Joel wanted to protest that he was healthy enough, but Trey came back bustling back into the room with a small tray.  The scents coming from the small mug and the bread that sat on the tray filled the whole room. And Joel was distracted from his previous thoughts.  All he wanted to do was taste whatever was eliciting that wonderful scent.

"Here you go.  It's just a meat broth, but it's filling.  I made it last night and let it simmer over night.  The bread we made this morning," Trey said, throwing a smile toward Archer when he said "we".

Joel didn't realize how hungry he was until he took his first bite. He'd never before experienced such flavor.  This was nothing like the watered down soups he had shared with his family back on their farm or with the others in the apartment in the city.  The rich meaty broth exploded with flavor on his tongue and warmed his stomach. As the first bite hit his empty stomach, Joel  felt ravenous, he couldn't shovel the rich tasting broth in fast enough. Suddenly, he was gaping at air like a fish out of water. Archer had taken away the mug and spoon!

"Slow down, or I'll feed you myself."  Archer's voice had that sternness to it that he'd had before and his hazel eyes pinned him with seriousness.

Joel didn't want to be intimidated by the man, but he was hungry and the thought of being spoon fed did not appeal to him. Reaching out for the mug, he said, "I'll slow down. I don't need you to feed me."

He kept his own gaze steady when Archer frowned into Joel's eyes. "If I have to take it away again, you won't get a choice."

Nodding his understanding, Joel gave a sigh of relief when the mug was placed into his hands once more. Eating quickly but with a bit more restraint, Joel dipped the bread into the broth and groaned in pleasure of the delicious sustenance. He hadn't had real bread since long before he'd left his families farm.  The only type of bread he'd had in the city was baking soda biscuits that were hard.  This bread was soft and made with oats and flour that Joel could taste.  No wonder these men looked so healthy, Joel thought. With food like this, he himself would have been as big as Archer.  Joel had always been a bit bigger than the average man.  Standing in at 6'4" his gaze was often over the heads of the men he knew.

His thoughts kept bouncing back and forth between how great the food tasted and where did these men get such good food. When the worst of his hunger was sated, he paused in his eating.  Looking directly into Archer's eyes, Joel said, "You said you'd tell me what's going on."

"Well, you're right, Archer. He's definitely a dominant," Trey said, and then laughed when Joel turned his head and shot Trey a look. "He even has the right LOOK!"

"Where am I? I can't still be in the city.  Last thing I remember the building, the whole city, was crumbling from an earthquake," Joel directed the question to Archer.

"This will sound unbelievable but I need you to keep an open mind.  And let me say everything before you start asking questions," Archer commanded.

Joel nodded his consent to wait.  He doubted much could direct his attention away from the broth and bread.

With Joel's attention mostly on the food, Archer pulled a sturdy wooden chair closer to the bed and started to explain, "You are no longer on earth. You are on the planet, Gliese. People from your planet came here when they were on an exploration mission, many, many years ago. Back before your prehistory. Our planets are...well, were, very similar, they both have oxygen, water, carbon based-'

"Wait!" Joel interrupted. "What do you mean were? I'm not on earth? Our planets were very similar?"

"I thought you agreed to let me finish before you started to ask questions," Archer growled.

Joel squirmed when Archer reprimanded him with his tone and his look.  "Sorry," he mumbled.

Archer looked away and took a deep breath. Looking back to Joel, he said in a soft sad voice, "If our historians are correct-your world no longer exists."

Joel's mind didn't want to process the idea of his world no longer existing, so instead he asked, "Historians?"

"Yes, historians. They are our guardians-guardians of history, of human kind.  They keep the history of many different planets. They have large tablets in which there are writings of what has happened, what is happening, and what is to come. They spend most of their time writing and studying. Long ago when your ancestors came here, they didn't want to follow our historians teachings. So they broke off all contact and went back to earth. That was thousands of years ago. Your history of that time had been lost on earth. However, our historians have powers that can't be explained. They came to us several years ago and told us of their plan to transport as many of you as they could.  Many of you have been transported to our world over the years."

"As many of us?" Joel questioned. "Why the hell didn't they save all of us!"

"Not all of you would assimilate here."

Joel became angry at the matter of fact way Archer spoke of the death of a whole world. "And how the hell would you know that! You let a whole world die when you could have saved them!"

"The differences were too big for some. We have to protect our world," Archer said vehemently.

Suddenly, Trey was between the bed where Joel sat and the chair where Archer sat. "Hey, quit it. I don't want to see a pissing contest between two dominants! Archer-show some damn sympathy! Joel-listen to me."

Joel dragged his glare from Archer and directed it to Trey. The smaller man just laughed. "Oh, you're a dominant alright. But as weak as you are from the sickness, you wouldn't be able to swat me proper. Will you listen to me?"

Joel felt his face flush as he knew the man was correct, he couldn't swat a fly, let alone a full grown, albeit small, man. He nodded.

"Your people were determined to expand, explore, exploit, everything they could. That's one of the differences between us. We are set on expanding and exploring ourselves-the WHO we are; rather than the gain we can take from others. We learn young if we are dominant or submissive. And then we take joy in exploring that relationship with each other." Trey looked toward Archer, then addressed him. "You told me you were looking forward to helping a dominant who didn't know he was a dominant. Did you forget that?"

Joel almost laughed out loud at the look of chagrin on poor Archer's face.

Archer finally gave out his own burst of laughter, and pulled Trey onto his lap. "Yes, you sensible sub! I had forgotten that. Now, hush and let's see if I can redeem myself. Joel, the historians had been hard at work finding those of you who showed the most dominant and submissive traits; hoping to save a part of your species. That's why some of you were chosen. The historians didn't have enough power to transport everyone."

"And only those with true traits would survive the sickness," Trey said. "When the historians first learned that your world would end, they tried to bring a few people here. To see how they would handle the travel. Everyone became ill, but only those with the traits survived."

"There are others like me? From earth?" Joel asked.

"Yes, they are dispersed across the nations," Archer said. "We've four nations on our world. They all live within the power exchange. The historians have their own nation; Avaskara. They are a strange race. They live within power exchanges, but their minds are full of a knowledge that the rest of us do not understand. The three remaining nations are populated by gender choice. Meilian is a large nation of mostly male-female inhabitants. They live together and procreate. Then there are the two smaller nations. Caprara is largely female and female.  And Nakori, which is where you are now.  We are primarily a male nation, but there are a few male-female and female-female families. The historians worked very hard to know which nation each of the survivors would be best suited for.  "

"So, they knew I was gay?" Joel felt spooked that men-beings-who he didn't even know existed knew so much about him.

"Gay?" Trey asked. "What's gay?"

"Um, well, it's when people of the same gender...find each other sexually exciting," Joel stumbled over his words. He didn't expect to have to give a lesson on homosexuality.

"Oh, yeah, I guess they knew or you wouldn't be here. You'd be over at the male-female nation. But not every same sex bond live within their nation.  Some prefer to live in different nations.  We have female bond mates living here as well as male and female bond mates; but most do prefer to live in the nations that are primarily populated with their preference. If you prefer a woman for a mate, you can travel to Meilian, where there are single women," Archer explained.

"Um, no thank you. I might be dominant, whatever that means, but I like men," Joel assured them. Then he asked, "Are only men dominant here?"

Trey started laughing, almost uncontrollably.  He was able to get control of his mirth when Archer's hand slapped noisily on the side of Trey's thigh.  Joel figured the small swat didn't hurt too much as Trey looked up, grinning into Archer's face.

"No, females can dominate men. My mom was very dominant. She helped me understand that I was dominant myself," Archer said, love of his mom evident in his voice.

Joel pushed back the sudden sadness at the loss of his own family and asked, "so what happens now?"

Hearing the grief in Joel's voice, Archer pushed Trey off his lap, and taking the mug from Joel's hand, said, "Now, we will let you grieve for your loss. Cry, pray, sleep and heal. Then we will help you assimilate to our world. Teach you how to be the best dominant you can be, and when you are ready, we'll help you find a submissive."

Joel froze when Trey hugged him hard. "You'll be ok. Matter of fact, you'll be great. I can tell you are going to be a ran ragged by some lucky sub. And you'll enjoy every bit of it!"

As the two men left, Joel laid back and he did indeed cry for all that he'd lost. When he'd cried the last of his tears, he drifted off to sleep with the hope that Trey was right and he would find joy here on this new world.

End Chapter 1

To Chapter 2