The Himbotrone

[Hialmar]

The Himbotrone

Part one

"Conflicted" was just the beginning of how to describe how he felt about it all.

A wave of uncharacteristic anger welled up inside him. To hell with it then! To hell with them both! If SIR didn't want him around anymore, this was the end of this chapter of his life, but on the other hand ...

"Devastated" ... What would he do now? After these twenty-four months together with SIR and HIM it felt difficult to reorient his entire life: Move somewhere else; Find another job; Be around other people ... Never see neither SIR nor HIM anymore.

"Rejected?" Yes, "rejected" was probably one of the feelings.

Though he had come second to HIM when it came to SIR's appreciation of physical accomplishment, despite SIR's thing for dominance, SIR had acknowledged his intelligence and talent for their illegal field of medical research. Together they had refined the supplements they fed HIM with ... protecting the heart and liver of HIM from any side effects ... stimulating and increasing the production of certain hormones within the body of HIM. He suspected, that SIR took some of the supplements himself, in order to maintain the level of muscle mass SIR had been able to develop by earlier versions of the workout schedules and perhaps even low level treatment from earlier versions of the prototypes.

It had been an honour to be around SIR's mature but powerful presence and obey SIR's orders in the laboratory, and on rare occasion elsewhere. And it had been an honour – he shivered at the thought – to be around their test subject – HIM – and see HIM go from aimless college reject with a sort of football build to become ... He shivered again. And swallowed. Despite the protests from his rational mind, his instincts were unstoppable. If anything, his sexual urge felt more intense than usual. It felt a little bit like it had done immediately after puberty ... a little bit ... but more. More intense. Thinking about his fellow Good Boy. Their strange relationship. Two scientists and their test subject, but one SIR and two Good Boys.

He and SIR kept the test subject out of the lab most of the time, because the test subject had to know it's place. He swallowed again. SIR allowed him to assist in domination of the test subject in the lab. The ... big ... test subject. HIM.

But SIR didn't allow his research assistant to use the gym quite as often as SIR did, and not quite as often as HIM, the test subject. Never more than thrice a week, unless SIR was unusually gracious and HIM allowed it, because inside the gym, HIM assisted SIR in dominating the lab assistant.

He swallowed again. Angry. Devastated. Rejected. Horny. Conflicted. He also felt hungry.

It had come so out of the sudden. He had mentioned his concerns about the prototype. His concerns about side effects, at least at higher levels of exposure. About the slowly decreasing intelligence. About the risk of personality changes due to several factors, not only the peaking androgens and exposure to anabolic power. He had feared some repercussions, because SIR could be stern sometimes, and improving the prototype had been their shared pet project over the last two years, but there was no immediate punishment. It seemed like SIR had listened to his worry over possible side effects.

SIR and HIM had even allowed him to use the gym atypically often in the following days, and he had felt some sort of uncharacteristic strange urge to lift more, curious about a greater number of new exercises ... His muscles felt sore after all these extra workouts.

When SIR broke the news in the evening, it came out of the sudden, and the news made him feel numb:

"... not need you anymore in your capacity as research assistant. From midnight, you are relieved from your duties."

He wasn't able to listen with attention. Rejected. Devastated. Angry and horny again. Hadn't he been a Good Boy? Someone knocked on his door, but entered without waiting for a reply. He turned his head and looked in the direction of the door.

It was HIM.

The time HIM spent outdoors gardening and the time HIM spent in the sunbed gave him a perpetual tan, that could have looked ridiculous on quite a few persons, but if someone was built like HIM it looked ... congenial ... looked like ... a walking fever dream about masculinity ... The only piece of clothing worn by HIM tonight was denim cutoffs and low-necked boots.

The big hands of HIM were holding a tray with food. So they cared about him anyway, somehow?

"You need to eat. I was sent here."

Something flickered in the eyes of HIM. Smugness. He was sexy and he knew it. But also something else. A glint of concern. And a glint of ... expectation?

"Looks like your sugar free high-protein pudding and your extra glass of "mineral" water, not like the food I'm allowed."

"You are allowed tonight", came the answer from HIM. "SIR expect you to empty every plate, bowl and glass."

The bronzed six-pack of HIM was at his eye level, as he sat on his bed and HIM standing before him. SIR's characteristic glee sometimes allowed HIM to tease SIR's lab assistant, but forbade anything untoward, because both of them were SIR's Good Boys.

"I'll fetch your tray later."

He saw HIM leave his room. The room felt emptier than usual, a whiff of the scent of HIM, but he became aware of how he was starving, and followed SIR's order. When HIM returned, every plate, bowl and glass was empty, even the odd and unfamiliar ones. What a strange way to say farewell?

* * *

Part Two is found HERE

Edited August 4, 2022 by Hialmar
pronouns and nouns, details, added link to Part Two

[DawnFire98]

I just love how you describe SIR and HIM