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Pods -Part 2 The coach takes one for the team. 

It just wasn’t Tony Sawyer’s night. Darlene Body was such a prick tease. The university coach had spent the better part of the day at the alumni luncheon plying her with her drink of choice (chocolate martinis). She returned the favor by placing a hand under the table pretty far up his thigh. At one point, she even quickly twisted his left nipple through his tight fitting white polo. He thought he was on the verge of scoring, so he placed his hand up her skirt for a little caress that had most the the bitches wet and moaning.

Apparently, Coach Sawyer’s signals were crossed. The crazy bitch threw the chocolate martini at him, staining his white shirt and causing a scene in front of the Dean of the school and some of the more wealthy alumni. It was their money that he needed to build the best Division 2 team he could and he couldn’t help but feel that he had lost some of their respect when the chocolate drink hit him. 

He wiped as much of the sticky concoction from his face with a cloth table napkin (blue and orange –go wild cats), threw the napkin down and took his leave.

He climbed into silver truck, shut the door and then pounded his fists several times on the steering wheel. “Fucking cunt!”

He looked at his shirt in the rear view mirror. It was ruined. With the heat and the hot summer sun, the shirt was starting to become unbearably sticky. He took it off, throwing it on the passenger side and then pulled out of the University parking lot.

The whole cab of the truck smelled like the drink. He just wanted to get home, jump in the shower and clean himself. He sped through the town towards his townhouse.

He saw the police car too late. The car peeled out after him, sirens and light flashing.

“Fuck my life right now,” Coach Sawyer said as he pulled over. 

With a little luck, the patrolman might be a Wildcats fan who would trade a warning to slow down for two tickets to the homecoming game in the fall. 

He looked in the rear view mirror as the cop got out and approached his truck. The cop was wearing shades, so Coach Sawyer wasn’t sure if he knew the guy or not. 

“Is there a problem, office,” Coach Sawyer said politely.

The patrol officer looked young. Maybe in his late 20s or early 30s. Coach Sawyer looked at his name tag: Donovan.

Fuck. Marty Donovan. Coach Sawyer had to cut Marty from the team five seasons ago after Marty tore his knee.  

“Coach Sawyer, you were going 40 in a 25 mile per hour zone,” Donovan said, his words didn’t seem to have any tone or inflection. 

“Have you been drinking? Your truck smells like alcohol.” 

Coach Sawyer grabbed the shirt from the passenger seat and tried to explain to Marty what had happened, but Marty just seemed to ignore him.

“We cannot have you driving drunk through the streets of the town,” Donovan said, opening the car door. You’re going to need to step out of the vehicle with your hands in the air.”

“Donovan, is this really necessary? It’s me. Coach Sawyer.”

“Sir, please step out of the vehicle with your hands in the air.”

Coach Sawyer complied. There was still a chance he could talk his way out of this one. He had to. An arrest would all but end his coaching career. And all because of that fucking bitch!

“I’m going to need to to walk over to the patrol car,” Marty instructed.

“I’m not drunk, Donovan.”

“Walk over to the patrol car, sir.” 

Coach Sawyer walked a perfect straight line to the patrol car. “See, told you I’m not drunk.”

“Please place both hands on the hood of the car, sir.”

“Seriously, Donovan?”

“Both hands. Hood of the car.” 

Coach Sawyer complied. Donovan kicked his Sawyer’s legs apart and pushed his back down. It was then that Coach Sawyer noticed something strange. Dutch Taylor –who owned Taylor Towing, was sitting in the passenger side of the cop car, just staring forward in a daze. There was something green and pulsating in his ear. There was a trail of slime from Dutch’s shoulder, across the side of his face and to his ear.

“What the…” he said, turning slightly to look back as Donovan. Donovan had an obscenely large boner, but that wasn’t the worst of it. In his right hand, he was holding a green pod. It started to open. Coach Sawyer tried to pivot, but Donovan wiped up some of the green slime with his left hand and flung it at him. It hit his back and face and its effects were almost immediate. Coach Sawyer couldn’t move. 

Coach Sawyer looked at Donovan with both fear and horror. Donovan seemed to be lost in pleasure –a wet spot had begun to form on the patrolman’s uniform. He heard Dutch climb out of the car.

“Coach Sawyer will make a fine addition to our ranks,” Donovan said.

“Enough pleasure, finish the connection,” Dutch said.

It was then that Coach Sawyer felt something warm and slimy get applied to his back. Seconds later, he came in his pants and then passed out from overwhelming pleasure.

Coach Sawyer awoke on the floor of Dutch’s shop. Dutch was standing in his truck bed, masterbating over about 60 pods. 

“Got about 10 ready,” Dutch said before coming again. “Now your conversion is complete, you can help me get the rest of them ready for your team.”

Coach Sawyer felt his Master flood his brain with the endorphin-like substance.

It would be so hot to enslave his entire team to the Masters. And so easy, too. He would just need to call some of the key players into his office one by one and the rest would fall in line. He couldn’t wait to get the conversion started. Good thing practice started up the next day.

Dutch jumped down from the cab and spread out 20 pods on the floor around Coach Sawyer.

“Tired of using my hand,” Dutch said, helping Coach Sawyer to his feet. “Time to break in that fine ass of yours.”

Coach Sawyer was about to take a swing at Dutch and tell him that he didn’t swing that way, but his Master released a flood of the drug on his brainstem and it literally changed his mind. 

He did have a great ass. Besides, he didn’t want to be like that bitch Darlene. Coach knew his body had made Dutch hard. It was only fair. 

Dutch pushed him gently forward and then shoved his 7 inch cock into the Coach’s ass. As if on cue, Coach’s Master released more of the drug into his brain just as Dutch’s dick rammed up against Coach’s prostate. 

The Coach shot a truly impressive load, easily fertilizing 10 of the pods. Darlene’s cock teasing had been good for something, after all. 

“Damn, Coach. You keep that up and we’ll be done fertilizing these pods in no time,” Dutch said as he pulled out and seeded three of the pods. 

“My turn,” Coach Sawyer said, switching places with Dutch and shoving his already hardening cock into the mechanic’s ass.

Thanks to his Master slug, it had turned out to be a pretty good day afterall. 

bmarg12387:

My best straight friend plays tennis and went to a hypnotist to get help to improve his game. He said that the sessions have been helping him and asked me to come to his next match. I went to the match and this man sat down next to me  and said are you here waiting for your best friend to play his match?  I said yes and was puzzled since we were the only two people sitting in the stands to watch the games why he sat next to me. He told me he was the hypnotist helping my friend with his tennis and he had describe me to him. As we sat there waiting for the match the hypnotist kept talking to me and after a while I found it very easy to listen to him and agreeing with what he said. Then finally it was time for my best friend’s match. My best straight friend walks out completely naked except for a ball cap. I was shocked and surprised and the hypnotist said to me look at him how handsome and sexy he looks. I said yes so handsome and sexy. The hypnotist said that I have never realized before how much I wanted and desired him and he was the only man for me. I kept looking at my best straight friend with such love and lust wanting to be with him so bad. The hypnotist said see how he is holding his tennis racket with both hands slowly stroking it like he was stroking your cock. I began to moan with pleasure as I felt each stroke on my cock never taking my eyes off my best straight friend. The hypnotist told me that I was totally inflatuated in love with him, that I worshiped my best straight friend and would do anything in the world  for him to make him happy, to please and always needing to pleasure him. I could not take my eyes off of my best straight friend needing to be his. When he won the match I came having the most incredible orgasm. He went to the locker room and I rushed in after him, got down on my knees in front of him with my head bowed saying I love you and I am here to serve you anyway I can. My best straight friend picked my head up and slid his cock into my mouth. I had never tasted anything as magnificent as his cock and knew for a fact that my purpose in life was to love and serve him. Good boys

Pods -Part 1

Sheriff Peterson sat patiently in the driver’s side of his police vehicle, as Patrolman Martinez was converted into a pod drone. A half-hour earlier, he had felt a great deal of pleasure and satisfaction as he held Martinez down, pulled up Martinez’s shirt and held the freshly fertilized pod to Martinez’s tanned back until the slug finally emerged and attached itself.

Peterson had tried to calm him while it was happening, but Martinez was thrashing about, cursing and resisting. 

“It will be so pleasurable, you’ll see,” Peterson said as he rubbed his hardening dick against Martinez’s slacks and continued to hold him down. “It is a superior life form and your conversion is inevitable.”

“What the fuck are you going on….” Martinez shouted, his words trailing off as the slug secreted copious amounts of slim onto his back. The slim had the effect of both paralyzing him in place and flooding his skin and then bloodstream with an endorphin-like substance.

“There. That’s so much better,” Peterson said. His own Master –which has long since burrowed through his ears and then onto his brainstem– rewarded Peterson with his own endorphin-like high for obeying orders. Peterson was proud that he had pleased his Master.

He helped Martinez up, tucked his shirt back in and placed him in the passenger side of the vehicle. He retrieved Martinez’s sunglasses from the dirt, dusted them off, and then walked over to the car and placed them back on his face.

From there, Peterson had driven to the most secluded place he could think of: the Sunrise Motel. A no-tell motel, the place was a destination for nocturnal hook ups. Seeing as it was morning, the place would be deserted. Nonetheless, Peterson parked in the back. Martinez could not be moved until the final transformation of his own Master had been made.

Peterson had gone into the motel’s office and booked a room. The clerk –who was wearing a suit and tie and therefore oblivious to the motel’s reputation– had eyed Peterson with some suspicion. Peterson had told him they were renting a room for a stakeout. A major meth deal was supposed to go down and Peterson and his partner Martinez would be there for a night or two until the deal actually happened.

“You can either rent me a room and keep your mouth shut or I can get a warrant and close you down.”

Peterson had paid in cash, requesting a receipt.

“So the DA’s office can reimburse me,” he said with a wink.

He had taken the room key and returned to check on Martinez’s progress. The slug had moved from the pod attached to his back to his ears. Martinez has started showing the sweats that came from conversion. It wouldn’t be long, now.

Peterson opened the trunk of the car and grabbed half a dozen of the unfertilized pods. He closed the trunk and then took them into the room he had rented. He laid them gingerly on the bed. He had hoped Martinez’s conversion would soon finish. He would need his assistance in fertilizing the pods to get them ready for human conversion.

His Master had explained that the slugs inside the pods used cum to alter their DNA to ensure a perfect symbiotic melding.

Peterson had learned on his own that it was more fun to fertilize with someone else than it was alone.Peterson masterbated over one of the pods and recalled his own conversion.

Jimmy Babcock –Peterson’s teenaged neighbor had shown him that first hand that it was better to fertilize with someone else. The 18 year-old skater was the one who had initially discovered the husk containing thousand of pods when it had crashed here. Jimmy had thought it might be a meteor that the science center might pay good money for. It had been so much better than that, though. The teen now had a purpose that he served with pleasure. A great deal of pleasure.

Jimmy had looked a bit more disheveled when he knocked on Peterson’s door, rousing the Sheriff from his sleep.

“You just got to see this, Sheriff,” he had pleaded. “My old man is out of town and I don’t have anyone else to show the meteor to. It’s so cool. You have to see it!”

Peterson had relented, if only to quickly indulge the boy and then get back to sleep.  He threw a robe over his t-shirt and boxers, put on a pair of slippers and followed the teen out the door and into the nearby woods.

The Sheriff had at least 60 pounds of muscle on Jimmy and so the teen –or rather, the teen’s Master– had to be quite clever. Jimmy had led him to the clearing where the husk was, grabbed a tree limb that had fallen when the husk had crash landed, and knocked Peterson out cold. 

He had awaken with his conversion already completed.Jimmy was kneeling not too far from him. He had his pants and boxers pulled down to his ankles and he was masterbating over a pile of pods.

“Good, you’re awake,” Jimmy had said.

“Rise,” Peterson heard his Master command.  His Master rewarded him for complying and his dick jumped to full mast. 

He walked over to Jimmy, grabbed the boy and kissed him hard. Their tongues darted in and out of each other’s mouths. Jimmy grabbed Peterson’s hand and brought it to his crotch. They stood there jacking each other and making out. Their Masters ensuring a steady flow of the secretion into their blissed out brains until the pair had cum multiple times over more than a dozen pods. 

The memory caused Peterson to shoot his load and he immediately felt another addictive high as his Master rewarded him with another dose of the secretion.

He knew the slugs were taking over, but the pleasure was so intense, he was only too happy to play whatever small part he could in their conquest. 

His Master had shown him the way in more ways than one. He and Jimmy had been allowed to fuck each other silly the rest of the night after the pair had introduced a fertilized pod to Jimmy’s broth Carl. Carl –who was home on leave from the army– was asleep on a twin bed in the room he still shared with Jimmy. They had rolled him over, attached the slug to his back and then proceeding to fuck on the floor at the foot of the bed while Carl was converted as he slept.

Peterson had never entertained the thought of taking a cock up his ass, but after his Master secreted a few drops, his eyes glazed over and he practically begged the teen to take his cherry. 

For his part, the teen had rode him hard, slamming his cut seven inch dick in and out of his hole. Peterson had shuddered when Jimmy had first hit his prostate. After a few more strokes, Peterson had to wonder why he had never thought to get fucked sooner. 

Peterson was almost sad when Jimmy pulled out to shoot his load on a nearby stock of pods. 

That is, of course, until Jimmy turned around, presented his own ass and told Peterson “My turn, daddy.”

He and the teen had traded several fucks (and fertilized a number of pods) for most of the rest of the night. Carl had awoken after his conversion and at some point joined them. 

“It is done,” his Master had informed him, ending the memory.

Peterson looked down as to see that his cum had been completely absorbed by the pod. He picked it up and made good use of it.

He returned to the car. Martinez was dripping with sweat. His dick was tenting in his uniform. And leaking, judging from the silver-dollar sized wet spot on his trousers.

Peterson looked out the window of the squad car, thinking about how he couldn’t wait to break in his partner’s ass and for him to return the favor. After all, they had a whole town to convert –starting with the boys back at the stations –and those pods didn’t fertilize themselves.

“I could kick your ass,” Martinez said, waking Peterson from his reverie. 

“How come,” Peterson asked.

You waited a full hour into the shift before converting me,” Martinez said with a smile and then removed his sunglasses to show the conversion was complete. “So, who’s next?”

Peterson motioned to the clerk who had stepped out of the office to retrieve the mail.

  “He doesn’t know it yet, but I left him a very special delivery.”

Kevin sat back in the comfy, overstuffed leather chair and listened to the court-appointed therapist drone on about Kevin needing to show him real progress. How he didn’t think Kevin was committed to therapy, much less FOCUSED on it.

It was only his second session and much like last time, Kevin’s mind just seemed to slip as soon as he folded his arms and sat in the chair. The light on the therapist’s table cast a strange, green light. It seemed to pulse and glow. It soft humming seemed to lull him into a fair away state as the therapist went on and on.

“Good, Kevin. I see you’ve found my desk lamp. Just let it’s green warmth wash all over you.”

Kevin sighed and felt his body slip further into the chair. 

“As your body sinks further and further into the chair, feel your breathing becoming deeper and deeper. You are completely focused on my words and on the beautiful, emerald glow of the lamp, aren’t you Kevin?”

“Yessss,” he heard himself say from what seemed like a far away place.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Very good, Kevin. You have always responded to strength, to control. You have always responded to it and now it is time to feel it. It is time to feel it through every inch of your body. You are going to feel me taking control, of your body, of you, of who and what you are. You want that more than anything, don’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You’re mind is becoming fuzzy, isn’t it?”

“Fuzzy.”

“You love this feeling. This feeling of losing control. It was loss of control that brought you to me after your wife filed the restraining order. Helplessly guided downward, downward into a trance. You want to go further down, don’t you.”

“Yessss,” Kevin said as he began to drool from the pleasure of release.

“I’m going to count down from five to one and take you deeper than you were last week. Let’s begin. FIVE – stripping away your self control, stripping away your mind. Feel my words taking charge, taking control. They are more important than your own desires, than your own needs. You simply must obey.”

Kevin hear the word “obey” ricochet through his brain. “Must obey,” he replied. 

He immediately felt a jolt of pleasure and his cock began to harden.  

“FOUR,” the therapist continued. “The obedience is getting deeper now. You find that my commands simply have to be obeyed. Your mind cannot struggle against them, it cannot resist them, it just simply embraces them. Accepting anything that I command is what you need because you exist to serve right now your mind exists to obey.”

“Serve. Obey.” Kevin replied.

“Show me how well you obey. Open your pants and stroke your cock.”

Last week, it had taken Kevin a count of 20 before he tugged as his zipper and displayed his junk for the therapist and subconsciously he wanted to show the therapist that he was making progress and unzipped. A wave of pleasure hit him.

A part of Kevin’s old self was struggling with this. The old Kevin thought it was gay to be jacking off in front of another guy. Old Kevin was fighting to take back control. He stopped stroking.

“THREE! It doesn’t matter what you want. You are here to obey and serve.”

The therapist stood up from his desk, walked over to Kevin and forced his head to turn and look at the lamp. The emerald green light and the humming once again seemed to push the old Kevin to some recess of his brain. 

 "That’s right. There is no other choice. You simply must obey. You exist only to obey me.”

Kevin felt any willpower that he had left melt away under the sway of the green lamp. He resumed stroking.

“TWO. 2 – you are reaching oblivion. You will simply exist to serve and obey and surrender at all times to any command that is given to you by me while you are in trance. There is no choice in this matter. You have no way to fight this. You don’t want to fight this, do you?”

The pleasure was too intense. Kevin could only think of yielding to it.  “Only serve..and obey.”

“ONE.”

Kevin’s cock erupted. His cum splatter sever feet in front of him. A few globs even landed on the therapist’s loafers. Not that Kevin noticed. His mind was completely wiped. 

“Master.” he said, staring into his master’s green eyes. Their hue exactly like the desk lamp that first enslaved him.

“Strip and Kneel,” the therapist said as he unzipped his own trousers and kicked off his pants and underwear.

Kevin was only too happy to oblige. Never had it felt so good to lose all self-control. He had his Master to thank for showing him that.

Ken had been traveling down the winding I-90 for a good while. It had gotten to be so dark so quickly, he figured he probably should pull off and grab some java to keep him going if he wanted to make it to Seattle by the time The Corporation was expecting him to. 

He pulled into the truck stop and grabbed an extra large and quickly headed back out to the rig. A farm kid of no more than 22 stood by the passenger side door, admiring Ken’s ride. 

“Sweet ride,” the kid said. 

Immediately, Ken paused his primary objective of making it to Seattle and chatted up the boy.

“It is. State of the art. Drives like you’re gliding on air. That’s why they call it the Glidestream. Handles like a dream, too. I’m Ken,” he said extending his hand.  “Do you haul?”

“Jacob,” the kid replied. “My daddy does. Been thinking about it, though. He makes good money and I’m sure it beats working in the body shop where I’m working now.”

“You ever service rigs,” Ken asked, taking a sip of the hot coffee.

“Sure, older ones. I ain’t never seen a Glidestream in the shop. They don’t ever seem to break down.

“Well, part of driver’s job is to keep his machine humming,” Ken said, suspiciously referring to himself as simply ‘driver.’ It was lost on Jacob, who had walked to the front of the rig.

“I’d love to take a look under the hood.”

“Sure, let me give you the tour of the interior, first,” Ken said, trying not to sound too eager about the prospects of getting the kid in his cabin.

The both climbed into the rig. Jacob ran his fingers over the seat.

“Italian leather,” Ken said.

“It practically melts against your body, it’s so soft,” Jacob added.

“Driver needs it on longs hauls,” Ken said, his eyes glazing over a bit.. “When ahead of schedule and there’s time, there’s always the back cabin,” he added, pointing behind them.

“What’s back there,” Jacob asked.

Ken pulled back the privacy curtain. “All of the creature comforts. Couch that doubles as a bed, refrigerator, microwave, TV, DVD player, Even got a tiny toilet. Wanna see it?”

“Sure,” Jacob said.

Ken watched the kid move into the back cabin. Or, more specifically, watched the kids ass as Jacob moved into the back cabin. He took a minute to quickly adjust himself without the boy seeing the beginning of a hard on and then joined him.

“You weren’t kidding, Mister. This has all the comforts of a living room,” Jacob said sliding onto the leather couch.

“Call me Ken or Driver,” Ken said, his eyes glazing over a bit again when he said the word ‘driver.’ 

“Sure thing, Ken.” Jacob replied. 

Jacob noticed the flat screen TV in the corner.

“4K resolution,” Ken said. 

“Damn, I just have 1080 in my apartment,” Jacob said.

“Let me turn it on and you can see it in action. The picture is…mind-blowing,” Ken said, quickly turning and flipping a switch.

The screen was filled with what appeared to be ordinary static. 

“It’s just static,” Jacob said, turning back to Ken. He could have swore that Ken had given a couple of tugs to his dick. 

Ken flipped another switch. “How about now?”

Jacob’s eyes were drawn to the screen. “It’s…blue.”

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“Yes, it is, Jacob. Now I need you to sit there quietly until the program gets its hooks into you good and proper,” Ken said, massaging his dick in front of the boy now.

Not that Jacob was capable of noticing Ken’s growing boner.  The more he watched the screen, the more everything seemed to fade away. He began to drool a bit as he found himself agreeing that he would sit quietly and allow his mind to be reprogrammed. His cock hardened as he agreed that it was pure pleasure to give in to the reprogramming. Yes, he would obey.

Ken –his own cock now painfully tenting his jeans, urged the boy to lean back and further enjoy the reprogramming.

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The boy was tenting now. Ken lowered his jeans and boxer shorts.

The kid really seemed to be enjoying himself. Ken had to wonder if he had looked as hot when he was first converted. As much as he wanted to allow himself some time to fully enjoy this, the primary objective still  needed to be met. Ken would need to hurry up Jacob’s processing. He needed the boy to deliver a mind-altering load so he could deliver his haul in Seattle. 

He took off his jacket and shirt and then pulled his jeans and shorts down to his ankles and sat next to the kid. Coaxing a load out of the boy was just an added bonus. 

Ken unbuttoned the final button holding up the kid’s overalls and quickly pulled the kid’s t-shirt over his head before the programming could be interrupted. 

“Whaat the…” Jacob said with a confused look on his face as he saw Ken buck naked next to him.

“Shhhhh,” Ken cooed, turning the boy’s head back in line with the programming. 

Jacob responded with a pleasurable sigh as his eyes once again filled up with the blue hypnotic gaze emanating from the high def screen.

“So much better to just give in,” Ken said as he pushed the kid’s shorts and overalls down around his ankles.The kid’s hard cock snapped back, leaking a little pre-cum on his chest.

Ken quickly wiped up the load with his fingers. “Driver must take any load, no matter how small,” he said in a far off voice and then licked his fingers clean.   He placed the kid’s hand on his boner and returned the favor.

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“That’s it, boy. Stroke Driver’s hard shaft.”

Jacob panted. Ken knew it wouldn’t be long soon. Jacob’s dick was slick with pre-cum. The kid was like a faucet. 

He stopped jacking Jacob off for a second to bring his slick hand to his mouth. 

“Your juice tastes good, boy. Real good. Gonna love snacking on this for the rest of this long haul. For now, let’s finish you off.”

He gripped Jacob’s dick and alternated slow, long strokes with fast ones. Jacob’s chest began to rise and fall as he neared climax. 

“Give in, Jacob. Given in fully to the programming.”

He gave the boy’s dick one final tug and then heard the familiar ‘ping’ the told him the boy was now totally enthralled. Cum splatter on the head board above the boy and a second and third eruption hit Jacob on the forehead and chin.

“Feel all that free will just draining out,” Ken said. He pulled the boy’s hand off his dick, turned and kissed him on the forehead, lapping up some of the cum as he did.

“Co-Driver is ready for instructions,” Jacob said.

“It’s time for you to take your inaugural first load,” Ken instructed. Jacob slid off the couch and crawled between Ken’s knees.

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Ken could see the residual remnants of the program in Jacob’s eyes as Jacob began to coax the load out of him. Ken knew that it was a part of his own programming to find such pleasure in the recruitment of new employees for The Corporation, but damned if Jacob’s glazed look wasn’t making him so very hard. 

In a few moments, he’d instruct Co-Driver to wet his index finger, stick it in Ken’s ass and bring him over. Ken knew from previous experience that as Jacob sucked Ken’s load, the programming would fade to the background and both of their eyes would revert back to normal.

From there, Ken would help the boy tie up any lose ends before the pair hit the road, sharing the driving and swapping the occasional load as they continued on I-90 towards Seattle.  

Based on a photo manip by Toothfairy1988 that can be found here: http://hypnotizedguys.deviantart.com/art/Dude-hypnotized-at-beach-673066126

It had been a hot day at the beach. Declan had been playing a couple of rounds of volleyball with his mates and then broke off to get a drink from the fountain. A young and enterprising Latino had parked his bicycle ice cream cart right by the fountain.

“Wouldn’t you rather like a nice snocone, dude?” the Latino guy asked as Declan moved in for a sip. “It’s better than that shitty lake water from the fountain.”

Declan shrugged. “Naw, bro. Left the wallet in the beach house over there.”

The Latino reached into the freeze attached to the bike and produced a yellow and pink frozen treat. “Strawberry banana,” he held it out for Declan to see. “The taste is guaranteed to blow your mind.”

“Dude, I love one, but no dinero.”

“On the house,” the ice cream peddler said handing the cone to Declan. “I’m Ricardo.”

“Declan,” Declan said, taking the cone. “What’s the catch,” he asked, staring at the frozen treat.

“No catch, bro. Try it. I’m sure you’ll love it and after you do, you can bring all your friends over for one.”

Declan tore off the plastic as the ice cream seller walked around to the other side of his cart and appeared to be checking inventory. In actuality, he didn’t want Declan to see his rapidly inflating boner.

Declan bit into the icy treat and the strawberry and banana flavors exploded into his mouth. 

“It’s creamy, dude.”

“That’s my own special ingredient,” the Latino said as he slowly stroked his dick to full mast through his board shorts. Soon, you’ll be on your knees lapping it right from the source.

“It’s got a bit of a tang.” 

Declan took another bit and felt another burst of flavor. Almost like brain-freeze, it seemed to reach all the way into his brain.

“Yeah, but you love it. In fact, you can’t get enough of it.”

“Can’t. Get. Enough. Of. It.” Declan replied in an almost robotic fashion.

“You want to finish all of right now for me, don’t you, boy?” 

The Latino saw Declan hesitating, quickly glanced around to make sure no one else was watching, walked over to Declan and forced the hand holding the cone up to Declan’s mouth. 

Declan felt another explosion of flavor and his brain literally went numb.

“You want to finish it all, bro,” the Latino said as he tipped the cup into Declan’s mouth. He massaged the back of Declan’s head with his other hand. 

“Show me how you can really get your tongue in there to get all of it,” the Latino egged Declan on. At his point, it just felt so good to do what the man told him. 

“Good job,” the Ricardo told Declan. Declan flashed a goofy grin. The teen adjusted  his boner and hopped on his bike. 

“Declan, you want to show me your beach house. Show me the way.”

“I want to show you my beach house,” Declan said as he shuffled towards the condo right on the beach. 

They stopped in front of the condo. “Very nice, Declan.” 

Declan smiled another goofy smile. 

“Do you live here alone,” Ricardo asked?

“It’s my parents’.”

“And where are your parents,” Ricardo asked.

“They’re out of town so my buds and I are have the place to ourselves.”

Ricardo couldn’t believe his luck. His cock began to leak from the thoughts of what he would be doing with Declan and Declan’s friends. 

“Declan, you want to invite me in.”

“Yesssss,” Declan said, opening the door. “Please come in, Ricardo.” 

Ricardo shut the door behind him and realized he couldn’t wait any longer before taking Declan’s mouth for a test drive. He ordered Declan down on the carpet right there in the hallway. Declan was only too happy to oblige. 

Ricardo then lowered his board shorts and underwear and thrust his seven-inch uncut cock into Declan’s face.  He rubbed the tip of his dick over Declan’s lips, making sure to deposit plenty of precum. 

“Lick those lips for me, Declan. It’s that tang you just can’t get enough of.”

Declan tasted the clear goo and found it to be true. 

“Open your mouth wide and I’ll give you more,” Ricardo told his brain-numb cum slave.

Ricardo thrust into Declan’s mouth. 

“It’s not gonna take me long to cum, baby,” Ricardo said, forcing Declan’s head down on his tubesnake.” “That’s it, baby. When I do cum, it’s gonna be irreversible, but you don’t mind, do you?”

Declan shook his head without taking the dick out of his mouth. It was the best thing he ever tasted. Why would he mind?

It was then that Ricardo fucked Declan’s head in earnest. 

“Cumming,” Ricardo shouted, painting Declan’s throat and tonsils with creamy dick juice. “That’s it, get it all.”

Declan was only too happy to oblige. The blast caused his own dick to cream without so much as a single stoke. 

Ricardo pulled his dick out of Declan’s mouth and surveyed the results. 

“I told you the taste was mind-blowing,” Ricardo said, putting his dick back in his board shorts. “Now, let’s go give out free cones to all of your friends.”

kotascok:

You were up late watching porn, when the screen changed.  You couldn’t tell what it was on the screen but it kept you captivated.  Sounds started coming through your headphones and you just sat there and listened while you watched the screen.  Your cock which had started to soften started to harden again and you were overwhelmed with the desire to stroke it.  Your hand started to slowly move toward it. As your hand wrapped around your hard shaft, you sigh as your mind goes blank.  You watch the screen and listen as you slowly stroke yourself. You stay this way for several hours, not cumming once.  You’re so horny, so ready to cum but you know you can’t just yet  You sit back in your chair as your webcam turns on, just as your room is filled with the morning sun, you finally feel your orgasm peak.  Your mind blanks out and completely accepts your new programming as you coat yourself in cum.

hypnothrill:

Brad had tensed a bit when he saw his father enter the room, but he continued fucking his younger brother Jeff. It was vital that his brother’s processing continue; Jeff’s eyes had already turned opaque from the nanites in Brad’s sweat and precum.

Brad turned to assess his father and saw the same glazed look beginning to form in his father’s eyes. “Brad, what are you…? I feel so…confused…I need….I need…to be…processed?” His father’s voice was sluggish, and as he spoke, he groped himself through the towel he was wearing.

In a calm, mechanical voice, Brad responded, “There is no cause for alarm. You are being upgraded by nanites embedded in your soap, shampoo, towel, and/or razor. After I have completed processing Jeff, he will assist me in installing your final processing. You must wait patiently here; you may masturbate if you wish.”

As their father dropped the towel to allow easier access to his hard cock, Jeff spoke, moaning with the last vestiges of his human desire: “Fuuuck…dad…feels so…good…uploading…instructions…rewriting…my brain…deleting…deleting…deleting…Subject Ready For Primary Nanite Load.”

And with those words, Brad came, shooting hot nanite-laden jism up his brother’s ass…