“911 what is the nature of your emergency?”
Tony Trevor felt a sense of relief. He had gotten through! He tossed his headphones off and tried to calm himself.
“You got to send somebody quick. They did something to my dad.”
“Slow down, son. Let’s start with your name and address.”
“This is Tony Trevor. 541 Elmwood.”
“Are you in immediate danger?”
“I’ve barricaded myself in my bedroom, but I don’t know how long before they break through. Please send somebody,” Tony pleaded.
“Let’s start from the beginning,” the male operator said. “Who did something to your dad?”
“Two guys who work for him at the lab.”
“Do you know their names?”
“Langston…Alex Langston. The other guy is…shit…something Russia,” the 21-year-old replied. He tried to think of the guy’s name, but all he could see was what the guy had been doing to his dad.
“And you said they did something to him?”
“I think they drugged him and now…they –well, one of them—he’s, um, raping him.”
“Stay put. Police are on their way.”
Tony hung up his cell and started shaking. He was trying to make sense of what he saw, what the hell was going on. He had come back from the library, his Bose headphones firmly in place, listening some death metal that always seemed to calm him down. He had planned to take a quick shower and then meet up with his girlfriend Jenny for a movie and –if he played his cards right a post-cinema blow job. He found that anything with Ryan Gosling was usually all it took to have her almost begging to wrap her lips around his 7-inch pole. Did it bother him that Jenny was imagining he was the handsome Canadian actor? Fuck no.
He saw the light on under his dad’s bedroom door, so he figured he’d check in and tell him of his evening plans and not to wait up. When he knocked and opened the door…well, it was fucking shocking.
Alex was holding his dad down, forcing him to watch something on a laptop. Tony couldn’t see exactly what as the laptop was turned away from him. The Russian guy was busy pulling off his dad’s boxer briefs –tearing was probably more accurate. The guy then pushed down his jeans, revealing a massive dick and no underwear.
Of the things that Tony Trevor was certain about in this life, it was that his dad, Thomas Trevor was 100% straight. He had to have been drugged. How else to explain how his dad seemed to stop struggling the minute the Russian started fucking his as?
He didn’t wait around to find out. Alex Langston leapt from the bed and tried to grab him, but, with all his weight, Tony pushed back into him, knocking him down. He then ran into his room and locked the door.
Tony somehow knew Alex wasn’t going to let a little thing like a bedroom door lock keep him from reaching Tony. He pushed his desk and his bookshelf (for good measure) and hoped it would be enough to at least buy him some time until the police arrived. When his phone rang, he picked it up and answered it without even thinking.
Campus Police Officer Frank McDowell picked up the call, radioed ahead for back up, turned on his siren and floored it.
He parked across the street from 541 Elmwood and turned off the siren. He assessed the situation from outside the home. The two-story Craftsman-style home looked like all the other homes nestled around the cul-de-sac. McDowell saw a few neighbors peer out from behind curtains –assessing the situation, he supposed.
And while there was movement in the homes around 541 Elmwood, there was no movement from within. The lights were on, but there was an absence of movement that made the hair on McDowell’s neck stand up.
He only hoped the college kid was still alive. He grabbed a couple of pairs of rubber gloves and stuffed them into the front pocket of his police jacket. He briefly prayed that he wasn’t walking into a homicide.
And where was his god damn back-up? Seconds could literally make the difference between life and death –particularly if the kid was injured. Dispatch had said the kid sounded really scared. Kids on campus were not easily shaken.
“Fuck it,” he said to himself, grabbing the radio. “Dispatch, this is officer 471. We’ve got a possible 261, but the place is quiet. Have the coroner on stand-by for a possible 187. Do you copy?”
“Roger that 471,” came the response.
“Do we have an ETA on my back up,” McDowell asked, running his fingers through his dark black hair,
“That’s a negative, 471. All other officers are otherwise engaged. Over.”
McDowell took one more look at the house and how quiet it was.
“Dispatch, I’m heading in. Do you copy?”
“Negative. Wait for back up, 471. Wait for back up,” came the reply.
But McDowell was already out of his patrol car, walking towards the home with his pistol drawn.
He went to knock on the door and it opened.
“Police! We are responding to a 911 call made from the home,” he said, slowly stepping into the front hallway of the home.
With his back to the wall, he slowly pivoted into the living room. Empty. Kitchen also empty.
Den, empty. Power room, empty. Spare bedroom, empty.
He slowly climbed the stairs. He opened the door to his right at the top of the stairs.
The master bedroom. The comforter was on the floor by the king-sized bed, almost as if it had been kicked off. The sheets were twisted and wadded up in parts. It had all the signs of a physical struggle.
The smell…well, that one was easy. It smelled like sex. He could see a couple of wet spots on the fitted sheet. He’d need to call in the crime lab from the city proper. The campus policy didn’t have their own.
Whoever was here, was gone. While McDowell had seen some physical evidence to corroborate the 911 call, he couldn’t say it was a rape when there was no victim.
He backed out of the master bedroom and back into the upstairs hallway. He tried the next door on the right.
A desk and a bookshelf seemed to have been hastily moved from blocking the door. There was a college-aged kid sitting on the bed, staring at his phone. McDowell didn’t think too much about this. Three-quarters of the God damn campus were staring down at their phones at any given point of any given day.
“Excuse me. I’m Police Officer McDowell. Are you Tony Trevor?”
The kid didn’t look up from his phone.
“Son, are you alright? Are you hurt?”
McDowell slowly stepped towards the kid, wondering if he might be in shock or something.
The kid suddenly looked up with a smile on his face.
“We are so much better now, office. You soon will be, too.”
The kid’s grin widened as he turned to show McDowell what had been keeping his undivided attention.
McDowell was immediately bathed in a warm blue light emanating from the kid’s cell phone screen. He felt a warm, pleasurable tingling sensation spread from his eyes to the back of his brain. Everything was so hazy. What was he doing here again?
“That’s right, officer. Eyes wide. Just keep staring at the pretty blue light.”
McDowell felt his shoulders relax.
“Pretty blue light,” he mumbled.
The drone that had once been Tony Trevor set the phone on the bed, quite confident the signal was slowly but surely seeping ever last bit of willpower from the good officer. Drone Tony unbuttoned his pants and freed his dripping cock. The signal programming has assured him that nothing was hotter than watching another man submit to the will of the signal and Drone Tony could only drool, slowly jack his dick and agree.
Officer McDowell blinked and tried to shake off the effect that the pulsating light and the sounds were having on him.
“No, this isn’t right, this isn’t…”
Drone Tony brought the phone closer inline with the officer’s vision. McDowell’s jaw went slack as the pulsing sights and sounds again bombarded his brain.
That’s it,” Done Tony cooed, “Just let the signal massage away all those worries and concerns. Letting go of everything, officer. It feels so good to just let the signal bath and anoint you.”
“That’s a big part of your mission, isn’t it officer? To SERVE and protect. You want nothing more than just to OBEY and orders. Isn’t that right?”
“Serve….obey….” McDowell gasped as a wave of mind-numbing pleasure coursed through his entire body, all but ensuring future compliance with any and all directives.
“You’re still so tense, officer. All those clothes keeping the signal from touching your skin. You want to feel the signal all over your body.”
“Yessss…” McDowell said, a steady stream of drool running down the side of his mouth.
When the kid touched McDowell’s coat, brushing up against McDowell’s pecs as he quickly took off the jacket and tossed it on the floor, McDowell again gasped. It was if the kid’s hand had made a connection with McDowell’s skin underneath his shirt. The signal seemed to get even stronger.
“More…” McDowell moaned.
Drone Tony slowly unbuttoned the cop’s shirt, relishing the power the signal was giving him over the cop.
Drone Tony let the cop just stand there with his shirt open as Tony held the phone in front of him, deepening the cop’s connection.
Drone Tony’s mind was quickly awash in thoughts of all the other men who would benefit from falling under the sway of the signal. His buddy Matthew who lived on campus and was a star on the wrestling team would be so much fun to play with.
He could almost seem himself on his knees, strengthening Matt’s connection to the signal by literally sucking it through him.
And 18 year-old Scotty Reid from down the street. The kid already had a bit of a case of hero worship towards Tony. He wouldn’t think twice of opening a text from Tony and then the signal and he would have him.
But that would all have to wait until Drone Tony had finished up with the good officer. In the time it took Tony to lose himself in his future work, the signal’s hooks were just about fully into the officer.
The officer continued to stare into the screen as he obeyed the commands to take off his clothes. He stood there in just his gun holster and boxer shorts.
“Damn, officer. I think you’re even hairier than my old man,” Drone Tony said, sitting on the bed next too McDowell.
“I think I’ve wasted enough of your time. Let’s finish your enslavement,” Drone Tony said, pulling down the boxer shorts. He stroked the cop’s dick –the second cock other than his own that he had ever touched.
He had initially hoped the signal would allow him to breed the cop’s ass the way his dad’s grad student had bred his, but the signal had other plans.
Drone Tony discarded his clothing as instructed and then got down on his knees before the cop.
Officer McDowell had never had another guy take a swig on his cock and had he been able to string together a coherent sentence in his pleasure-addled brain, he would have marveled at how much better at it the college kid was than McDowell’s girlfriend. What was her name? It didn’t matter anymore. The only thing that did was giving himself completely over to the pleasure that the signal was giving him.
And when Drone Tony finally succeeded at coaxing a massive load out of the police officer, it would almost be accurate to say that McDowell saw stars.
Well, almost. What flashed before his eyes was the home planet from where the signal had originated. Words spoken in a language the McDowell couldn’t recognize but nonetheless understood. The signal part of a greater plan to keep these menacing earthling in check. They were in the process of destroying their own planet and it was only a matter of time before they ventured out into the galaxy to spread like a cancer; consuming and destroying, consuming and destroying.
Officer McDowell –Drone Frank, now– couldn’t have any of that.
Later on, after he had dressed and filed the report (adult young male in a physical altercation with his father, but declined to press charges against his dad), he called up his best mate Tom and invited him over to watch the game.
It was now Drone Frank’s solemn duty to spread the signal.
And he was only too happy to comply.