Pods 4 -Coach Sawyer Improvises

Marc Petrie sat naked on his bed, listening to the carnal moans and grunts coming from his son Marc Jr.’s room. He didn’t want to just sit there and listen, but at the moment that was all he could seem to do.

He had come home early from work to check on Marc Jr. His son hadn’t been feeling well and had in fact skipped football practice, which is something his athletic son never did. He was the quarterback, after all. So, Marc knew that his son really wasn’t feeling well.

So he cancelled his afternoon meetings and headed home to check on him. Marc wasn’t alone, though. He opened his son’s bedroom door to find his son face down on his bed, completely naked. There was some kind of green plant like pod attached to his back, its tendrils snaked up his shoulders and into both of his ears. His son was moaning, but not out of pain. They were lustful grunts.

“What the fuck,” he said, moving to dislodge the plant from his son.

Someone grabbed his arm from behind him, stopping him.

He turned to face the intruder. It was Marc Jr.’s football coach. And he was naked with a raging hard on.

“I’m afraid you’ve caught me a bit unprepared,” Coach Sawyer said with no emotion in his voice. “We hadn’t expected you back until this evening and I don’t even have a pod for you.”

“Get the fuck out of my house, I’m calling the cops,” Marc yelled at the coach. Thoughts of having him arrested and fired filled his head.

“Argh,” he said as the coach forced him on his knees to come face to face with the coach’s dick. It was leaking copious amounts of green precum. Marc could only stare at it in horror as Coach Sawyer forcibly grabbed his head, pried open his mouth and shoved his cock into it.

Marc began to choke and was forced to swallow the green goo. It seemed to numb his throat and gradually spread throughout his body.

“There you go, Mr. Petrie. Just keep swallowing for a bit. Look up at me.”

Marc couldn’t understand why he was obeying when he wanted nothing more than to bite down on Coach Sawyer’s member and run.

“I had to stop over to see why my top player had skipped practice,” the coach calmly explained as he thrust in and out of Marc’s mouth. “The entire team now serves a higher purpose –the masters. There are only a few hold outs, including your son. I really had planned to have him convert you later tonight. We’ll have to improvise.”

The liquid seemed to fill him up.

“The green shade of your eyes tells me you’re nice and docile now,” Coach Sawyer said. “Isn’t that right?”

“Y-y-yes,” Marc heard himself say in a dreamy voice.

“Go into your bedroom, strip off all your clothes and get on your bed,” the coach order. “I need to break in that sweet, sweet quarterback ass and finish processing your son.”

Marc found himself doing just that. And now all he could do is hear the coach fucking his son in the next room and his son begging him to do it. He heard both of them climax and then someone leave.

His bedroom door opened.

“I’ve just sent your son out into the field to retrieve a pod for you,” Sawyer explained. “It should take him 10 or 15 minutes. In the meantime, I’ve got to make sure I keep you doped up until we can get you fitted with a master and properly converted. Take off your glasses.”

Marc resisted. Coach Sawyer could see that the emerald haze that had once filled Marc’s eyes was fading.

“We can’t have that, can we,” Coach Sawyer grabbed Marc and pulled him into a kiss.

He made sure to thrust his tongue in and out of Marc’s mouth. Marc could taste the green goo coating his mouth. And just like that, he found his ability to resist simply fade into a drug-induced haze.

Coach Sawyer broke the kiss to admire his handiwork.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

“You want to obey me.”

“I-I-I w-w-want to obey you,” Marc replied.

“You can’t resist me.”

“Can’t resist.”

“It turns you on to obey me,” Coach said.

“Yesss.”

Coach Sawyer pushed Marc down onto the bed.

“Obedience is pleasure, Marc,” Coach Sawyer said, stroking Marc’s hardening cock. “Feel the pleasure that comes from giving in. Isn’t it so much better than fighting? You don’t want to fight. You want to give in and feel the pleasure.”

“Feel the pleasure.”

Marc felt the Coach deep throat him. It was better than any woman ever did. Marc could feel Coach Sawyer push some of the green saliva into his dickhole. It felt incredible.

The coach flipped him onto his stomach. He took Marc’s cherry in one swoop.

Marc could feel more of the wonderful green goo fill him –this time in his ass.

“You fucking love this,” Coach Sawyer said, thrusting his rod deep up Marc’s anal chute. “You’re gonna love it even more when your son fucks you later.”

“Fuck me,” Marc heard himself say.

“The Masters will let you turn other guys out, too,” Sawyer said. “I bet you can think of a few guys, can’t you.”

“Yes, sir,” Marc said. He thrust his ass back on Coach Sawyer’s majestic dick as he humped the bed with his own cock. There was his neighbor Bobby, who was always working on his car in his garage. Bobby’s 18 year-old stepson Sam. Marc’s business partner Roberto.

He heard his bedroom door open. It was Marc Jr., who quickly stepped out of his clothes to present the pod to his dad.

“It’s about time,” Marc said. “Put that fucking thing on me already.”

Marc Jr. and Coach kissed as Marc felt the pod open up, attach itself to him and make a connection.

The coach pulled him into a tight embrace –as if he would try to escape at this point! He felt the coach thrust into him one final time and then blast his insides good and proper with more green goo at the exact time his Master’s tendrils invaded his ears, beginning his conversion.

Marc had never been more happy.

Andrew flipped open his laptop and booted it up. After the fight he had just had with his Stepdad Pete, he needed to blow off some steam by jacking off to his favorite porn sites.

It seemed to be taking longer than usual to boot up. Maybe he was just being anxious. Andrew just wanted to put the fight behind him.

With his mom Janet gone on business trips all the time, it meant Pete and Andrew were stuck with each other.

His stepdad Pete worked IT for a construction company and his company currently had no work. Which meant the guy was home all the time.

Andrew was on summer break from college. Pete had suggested Andrew get a summer job “to start pulling his weight,” but since Andrew had a full-ride lacrosse scholarship to the state university, he had no plans to get a job.

He was always riding him to load his dishes, do his own laundry or take out the trash. Fuck him! Pete was a grown man sponging of his mom. He was home all day, he could take out the garbage or load the dishes.

The computer finally booted up and Andrew entered his password to log on. He launched the web browser and quickly entered the address for his favorite porn site.

The screen went dark for a second and then a photo of big breasted blonde appeared on the screen.

Andrew massaged his hardening dick through his Adidas soccer shorts

There was a flash, momentarily dazing him.

It was barely noticeable before the picture changed to a brunette who was playing with her nipples.

Andrew pushed his shorts and briefs down to his ankles and settled back into the couch to watch the slide show.

“Love to ram my cock between her titties and titty fucker her,” he said out loud.

Brief images seemed to flash on and off along with with a few words. Andrew tried to read what they said, but they appeared and disappeared to quickly, followed by another image of a naked, smoking hot babe.

“What was that,” he said at another flash, before a picture of a red head with the biggest tits he had ever seen appeared on the screen.

“Fuck, she’s hot,” he said, settling back in to stroke his cock and enjoy the show.

In another room of the house, Pete watched his arrogant stepson through the laptop’s webcam. He palmed his own rising cock through his shorts as he watched the smug little college brat’s demeanor change. It was slow and subtle. A picture, then a flash, then another picture, then another flash. Andrew was too lost in his masturbation to notice.

“You stupid, little shit. Your forgot I majored in computers, but minored in psychology,” Pete said from the other room.

Pete considered himself straight, but he learned back in college that he like nothing more than creating subliminal programs to take down arrogant dudes and bend him to his will. Using these tools on women seemed unnecessary as Pete was usually about to charm his way into any woman’s pants. Guys were a challenge, though. He loved watching the spark of will slowly drain from men’s eyes to the point in which they become his malleable playthings.

Back in the den, Andrew’s body began to slump more as Pete’s brainwashing program took root.

Andrew’s eyes grew a bit dull and vacant as he stared at the screen with rapt attention.

The last image faded, replaced with instructions. Andrew stopped jerking his dick with his right hand and unconsciously typed in the new web site. He then returned to stroking.

The image that flashed on the screen was a whirling spiral and Andrew felt as if his entire being was being pulled into it.

In the other room, Pete quickly put on a speaker headset and jacked into the other computer.

His stepson would find it hard to say no to him after this.

“Andrew, keeps stroking your dick as you look at the pretty spiral,” Pete said. “That’s it. Keep looking. You want to keep looking as deeply as you can. You can find the center, can’t you boy?”

“Yes,” Andrew heard himself answer from a far away place.

“Good, good. Look at the beautiful and fascinating center. It’s so beautiful.”

“So beautiful,” Andrew responded.

“So fascinating,” Pete cooed.

“So fascinating,” Andrew said, slowly jacking his cock.

“You don’t want to look away, do you?”

“No, sir,” Andrew said, feeling the captivating spiral pull him further down. His eyes were transfixed.

“Let all your thoughts and cares just drift away. Only my voice. Let it guide you further and further down. Deeper and deeper down.”

“You will obey Hypnodaddy Pete. Relax, listen and obey Hypnodaddy Pete,” Pete seductively said. “Andrew you have no thoughts and no will. You just need to obey Hypnodaddy Pete.”

“Obey…Hypnodaddy Pete,” Andrew said as he began to drool.

“Hypnodaddy Pete is the most handsome, sexy man you’ve ever seen. He turns you on more than anything else in the world. He makes you so hot.”

“Hypnodaddy Pete…sooooo hot,” Andrew said, jacking his cock as the images of his stepdad played out on both the computer screen and in his brainwashed head.

“From now on you will do whatever it is the Hypnodaddy Pete tells you to do. Even when you aren’t in trance. Do you understand, boy,” Peter asked the hypno-zonked teen.

“Yes….anything.”

“When you hear me say ‘Look into Hynodaddy’s spiral eyes’ you will immediately look into my eyes and fall back down into this deep, deep place.”

“Yes,” Andrew said.

“Good, good boy. I’m going to wake you on the count of five. You’re not going to remember being tranced, but you will follow all your orders. Understand?”

“Yes Hypnodaddy Pete.”

“Good. 1. Slowly rising up. 2. Back to this plane. 3. Breathing and thoughts back to normal. 4. Feeling refreshed and 5 -AWAKE.”

Pete switched off the mic and ended the program. Andrew’s computer began to display the site he originally thought he was going to before Pete had hacked it.

“Fuck, she’s hot,” Andrew said, without missing a beat.

Pete suddenly opened the den door, surprising Andrew.

“D-d-dude. A little privacy,” Andrew said, covering his balls and stiff rod.

“Shhhh. Just look into Hypnodaddy’s spiral eyes,” Pete said.

“There’s my hypnotized little slut boy,” Pete said with a grin. “Not such an arrogant little shit anymore, are you?”

“No, Hypnodaddy Pete.”

“Invite me to join you, boy.”

“Would you like to join me on the couch, sir,” Andrew said. He couldn’t take his eyes off of his stepdad. He was the most beautiful man Andrew had ever seen.

“Beg me, boy.”

“Please, please sit next to me on the couch, Daddy,” Andrew said with painful longing.

Pete sat down next to the boy and watched him briefly.

“Strip for me, boy,” he ordered as he dropped his own shorts and began to take off his own shirt.

“You’re feeling soooo horney, boy. You love showing me your body.”

“Love showing you my body,” Pete replied in a monotone.

“Even more so, you love looking at my body, isn’t that right,” Pete asked his hypno-zonked stepson.

“Love looking at your body,” Andrew replied, his cock growing painfully hard.

Pete watched his stepson closely to make sure the program had fully taken hold of the lad’s brain.

“Such a naive, mindless hypnoslut. You’re just a mindless piece of meat for me to use for my pleasure,” Pete said as he stroked his own hardening cock. “Kiss me.”

Pete pulled the kid into him and held him tightly. He thrust his tongue into Andrew’s mouth and the teen moaned with excitement.

“You’ve got me so worked up, son,” he said, pulling away from Andrew. “I’d love to break in that ass, but I wouldn’t last but a few plunges into your tight, cherry hole and you deserve to be fucked good and proper.”

Pete stood up and looked at Andrew as he looked up at him. His eyes were vacant, his will complete gone.

And Pete had never been turned on so much in his entire laugh. He slapped his hard dick against Andrew’s face.

“Suck daddy’s cock.”

Andrew didn’t hesitate. He opened his soft lips and swallowed Pete’s cock down in one full swoop.

Andrew was in heaven. The taste was a mixture of salty and sweet. He couldn’t get enough of this man’s beautiful cock down his throat. Though he had never sucked a cock before, Andrew proved to be something of a natural-born cock sucker. As the dick pistoned in and out of his mouth, he worked his tongue around the shaft, causing Pete to moan.

Pete grabbed his own dick from Andrew and aimed it at his stepson.

“Don’t swallow,” he ordered as he shot thick cocksnot into the teen’s gaping maw.

“Anointing you with Hypnodaddy Pete’s cum,” he said, smearing the load all over Andrew’s cheeks, lips and face.

He scooped the boy into his arms and sat him on the couch.

“Stroke that cock for me, Andrew. Show me how you beat off,” he said as he tweaked one of the lad’s nipples.

Andrew’s whole body went rigid and he shot a load all over his six-pack abs and chest.

“Now, let’s talk about some other changes we’re going to make around here,” Pete said with a smile to the captivated teen.

Lieutenant Dickson stood at attention, eyes straight ahead, arms behind his back and unable to move.

He wanted to scream or yell, but couldn’t seem to move his mouth.

And the part that scared him the most –he could not recall how he came to be in this predicament.

He thought of the last moments he could remember. He had decided to stay on base instead of going into town on the hunt for pussy with his men. After working out and showering, he headed to the Officer Club for a nightcap.

The base had one of the last remaining O-Clubs left. And for good reason. The O-Club was dead. A Major who Dickson didn’t recognize was sitting at the other end of the bar, nursing what looked to be a whiskey on the rocks. Dickson nodded and tipped his beer to the superior officer.

The superior took that as an invitation and sat next to Dickson.

Dickson rose to salute him.

“At ease, Lieutenant,” the Major said. He offered his hand to Dickson. “Major Mathers from Washington. Just in for the weekend and figured I would check out one of the last remaining O-Clubs left.”

They both returned to bar stools.

“Younger guys prefer to go off base to the bars with townies,” Dickson explained. “Girls who are impressed
by a flash of abs and usually buy you drinks as a ‘thank you’ for your service.”

“ And on most other bases, families outnumbered single soldiers. Most clubs had been converted into Goddamn day care centers,” Mathers said. Both men laughed.

They talked a bit about each other’s military careers and whatnot. Dickens finished his beer and was going to politely excuse himself.

“Sit down, soldier. Next round is on me,” Mathers said.

“I gotta take a piss, first,” Dickens said and then headed to the can.

His trouser snake drained, Dickens returned to find a freshly poured pint waiting for him.

Dickens had sat back down.

“Mighty kind of you, Sir,” he said, taking a long sip of the drink. Mathers continued to nurse his whiskey and he began to play with a pair of dog tags.

Dickens blinked a few times as the dog tags caught the overhead light and seemed to direct beams of light his way.

Mathers moved in closer. “Don’t mind me. Just enjoy your beer.”

The Major was right. He would enjoy his beer. He took another sip.

“Damn, Son. Take a manly gulp.”

Dickens chugged half of the beer down. Something tasted a bit off about it.

“These are the latest in high tech dog tags,” Mathers said as he continued to swing the dog tags back and forth.

Dickens eyes seemed to lose focus for a minute.

“Finish your beer, Son.”

Dickens downed the rest of it.

“Can you tell what’s special about these dog tags, Lieutenant,” Mathers asked.

“N-n-no, Sir.”

“They’re engraved with special 3-D writing, but you have to watch them closely to catch the intricate writing.”

Dickens’s eyes followed the swinging dog tags. The tags would occasionally catch the light and almost having a strobe-like effect.

“Keep trying to read ‘em as they sway back and forth. Back and forth. Center all your attention and focus on the dog tags. That’s a good boy. You can’t look away. You don’t want to look away. Just raise your eyes. You don’t have to move your head. Just follow the tags with your eyes back and forth. Back and forth.”

Dickens could feel his mind going numb, but if had felt so good to watch those damn tags.

“Back and forth, back and forth. So hard to read now. So hard to concentrate. So easy to just let go…”

And then the next thing Dickens remembered was this moment now. Standing at attention, still looking forward.

“Welcome to my exclusive private playroom, Lieutenant,” Mathers said as he rubbed his crotch.

“I’ve spent a bit of time conditioning you further with these,” he held up the dog tags. “When I place them around your neck, you will listen and do what you are instructed.”

“Listen and do what I am instructed,” Dickens heard himself say. His voice seemed so far away.

Mathers placed them around his neck and Dickens felt his lips move into a goofy grin.

“Are you ready to obey, boy?

Dickens wanted to scream out, but instead meekly said “Yes, Sir.”

“Do 20 push-ups,” Mathers said.

Dickens quickly complied as 20 push-ups were nothing for him to do.

“Stand up, take off your shirt and hand it to me,” Mathers said as he took off his own jacket.

“So handsome, so docile,” Mathers said, rubbing Dickens chest and shoulders. “I think you’re getting off on giving me control, isn’t that right, boy.”

Dickens felt his cock harden in his boxers, causing the camouflage pants to tent obscenely.

“Yes, Sir.”

“You truly want to surrender to a superior man. I am that superior man, understand boy,” he asked, undoing his tie and opening his shirt.

Mathers sat back in his chair. “Strip for me, you slut. Turn me on and I might let you taste my cock.”

Dickens undid his belt and with both hands, ran it forth between his legs. He then turned around, bent over and began to untie his boots, gyrating his ass as he did so.

He kicked the boots off and rubbed his hard cock through his pants. He looked as Mathers seductively and then popped the button of his pants. He fished his right hand into his pants to play with his cock as he lifted his left arm up and licked his arm.

“Very nice, slaveboy,” Mathers said as he unzipped his own pants and fished out his own hard cock. “Keep going.”

Mathers began to stroke his cock as Dickens seductively dropped his pants and stepped out of them. He snapped the waistband of his black Calvin Klein boxer briefs and rubbed his thighs.

“Show me what you’re packing.”

Dickens lost the shorts. His six-inch hard cock, which at this point had begun to leak precum, smacked against his six pack abs.

Mathers stood up and walked behind Dickens. He caressed his neck and then forcibly threw him down on the desk. He pushed Dickens’ ass back and forth.

“Feel the desk on that hard cock. It’s almost like the desk is jerking you off. No matter how excited you get, you’re not going to be able to cum without my permission.”

Dickens was humping the desk with wild abandon. Inside his head, he was screaming at the humiliation he was suffering.

“Time for more mind-numbing toys, boy.”

Mathers showed Dickens the electro-stimulation pads and a glass dildo that had wires coming from it.

As Dickens continued to hump the desk, Mathers attached the pads. He then attached them to a box and turned a dial on the box. Dickens immediately felt the massaging current and moaned.

“Feel the current zap any remaining resistance, boy. Taking you down to where you long to be.”

“Taking me down…f-f-f-uck.”

“And who is your superior officer?”

Dickens resisted for just a second.

“A little will still, huh? Time to bust that cherry,” Mathers said.

Dickens felt the cool, cock-shaped object enter his ass. A wave of surrender washed over him.

“Obedience is pleasure, boy,” Masters said, turning the dial.

Dickens finally broke complete down and agreed. Mathers lifted Dickens head up by his hair.

“Eyes glazed, mouth drooling, you’re mind completely, aren’t you boy?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You crave to obey and serve me,” Mathers said, rubbing his dick head against Dickens’ lips.

“I crave to obey and serve you.”

“Suck my cock, boy. You’ve earned it.”

Dickens tentatively stuck the tip of Mather’s dick in his mouth. Mathers grabbed his head and forced him down on the full length of his shaft.

“Yeah, choke on that dick, boy.”

Dickens eyes watered and he began to really drool as Mathers fucked his mouth.

“Time for the main event,” Mathers said, pulling out of Dickens mouth and walking behind him. He quickly removed the dildo and plunged his dick into Dickens’ anal hole.

“You want this so bad.”

Dickens felt himself arch his back and push back on the dick.

“Fucked your brain and now fucking your ass and you love it.”

“Aw, fuck me, Sir.”

“Anytime you see me and I put those dog tags on you, you become mine,” Mathers said, slapping his ass.

“Getting close boy and you’re going to cum when you feel me coat the insides of your hole.”

“Yes Sir.”

Mathers grabbed Dickens by the hair and savagely pistoned in and out of his hole and then shot his load.

As ordered, Dickens blew his substantial load all over the desk.

As he dressed himself, Mathers had him lick up his load off the desk, of course.

Mathers ordered him to then dress himself. When the room was set back in order Mathers had Dickens hand him the dog tags.

“You’ll stay in this daze until you are back in your bedroom. You’ll then return to normal, but not remember anything that transpired, you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Whenever you see me hold up these dog tags, you’ll revert to this dazed state. When I put these back around your neck, you’ll become my mindless soldier boy again.”

Dickens awoke from his mental fog back in his bedroom. His mouth and ass were sore and his dick was spent for some reason. He remembered going to the O-Club and having a single beer, but not much else.

The time lapse didn’t scare him, though. He strangely felt both satiated and satisfied. He stripped to his boxers and climbed into bed.

“Must have been more tired than I thought,” he thought to himself. “Glad I stayed on base.”

He wasn’t the only one.

Bryce had just finished unpacking the last of the boxes from moving into his new apartment. He was looking forward to a hot shower to soothe his aching muscles. He turned on the water and was just about to jump into the shower when there was a knock at the door.

“It never fucking fails,” he said, turning off the water, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist. He opened the door.

“Can I help you?”

“Cablevision installation.”

“I didn’t order cable,” Bryce replied.

“It’s comes standard with your lease.”

“I don’t really watch much television,” Bryce said.

“Unfortunately, sir, it’s a condition of your lease. You must have the basic package installed. It includes some must-see TV. It’s binge-worthy.”

“Whatever,” Bryce said, opening the door and allowing the cable guy in. “The TV’s over there. I’m about to jump in the shower.”

“I’ll be finished before you know it,” the cable guy said as he began to unpack various tools and equipment.

Bryce had to admit, the steam and heat from the shower did just the trick. He turned off the water, stepped out of the shower and wrapped his towel around his waist. He walked back into the living room to find the cable guy still messing with cables.

“Almost done,” Bryce asked impatiently.

“Almost,” the cable guy said with a smile and a wink. He tossed Bryce a remote.

“Can you do me a favor and turn it to the test channel? It’s 6969.”

Bryce sat on the couch and entered the digits into the remote.

“See anything,” the cable guy said from behind the TV.”

“Not yet.”

“Keep watching,” the cable guy said, fiddling with some wires. “How about…NOW.”

“Nothing but static,” Bryce answered.

“Keep watching,” the cable guy said as he continued to mess with the wires.

There was a white flash and the static began to strobe. Bryce’s eyes dilated. He let out a soft moan.

“That’s much better, isn’t it,” the cable guy said, emerging from behind the TV.

Bryce felt himself nod. He turned to look at the cable guy, but the cable guy just turned his face back to the screen.

“Gotta make sure we’ve got the hooks into you good and proper.”

There were some more bright flashes. Bryce could feel his mind sort of melt away.

“Here He comes,” the cable guy said with enthusiasm.

The screen changed.

“Hello, puppet. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Bryce saw the most beautiful man before him on the TV screen. His eyes seemed to bore right down into his brain. He couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. And he didn’t want to.

“Keep staring into my eyes. Don’t look away, puppet.”

There was another series of flashes followed by words in rapid succession.

“Yes, obey,” Bryce said. “Yes, submit. Yes, I am your puppet.”

The cable guy undid his tool belt and allowed it to fall to the floor. “This part always gets me so hot,” he said as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his his 8 inch dick that was dripping with precum.

The cable guy turned his face to the screen. “Have I done well, Puppet Master?”

“Yes, puppet. Let’s reinforce your programming along with your new brother.”

“Yes, Puppet Master.”

“I’m hot, aren’t I puppets” the man on the screen asked.

“You’re hot,” Bryce said, opening the towel to stroke his six inch dick

“You’re hot,” the cable guy reiterated as he too stroked his cock.

The two boys were soon stroking and responding to the words that occasionally flashed across the screen.

“I obey.”

“I submit.”

“I am a puppet.”

“I love to be a puppet.”

The Master monitored the boys’ progress from his bedroom down the hall thanks to the webcam that Travis the cable guy had unwittingly installed, carrying out the commands he had been given in trance.

Drake had secretly watched the muscular jock Bryce move in and had made the decision to add him to his growing stable of boys in the building. It had merely taken a call to Travis to activate his programing.

“Hello, who’s this,” Tavis had asked, not recognizing the number.

“Puppet boy and my enthrall. It’s time now for another install.”

Had anyone been watching Travis, they would have seen his eyes glaze over a grayish hue and his mouth widen into a goofy smile.

“Puppet boy obeys.”

Travis had proven himself to be especially swift in installing the cam and special cable equipment. Of course, it had been a bit of good fortune that Bryce had been in the shower and not watching him while he worked. Otherwise, the extra equipment might have roused suspicion, forcing Travis to use the cum-soaked rag and the brown bottle of chloroform like he had to on the red-headed hedge fund manager in 3B or those frat guys in 4C. It required securing Drake’s prey by rope and then patiently waiting for each of the boys to wake up before the programming could take effect and Drake really didn’t like to wait.

Bryce would be fully committed to him in just a few minutes. Watching a straight guy’s will slowly fade and a puppet plaything emerge always got Drake so hot. He started to stroke his cock, never taking his gaze off the camera lens as the computer interlaced mind-numbing words and strobing amidst him.

“Lose yourself into my eyes, puppets,” he said. “Surrender your will to me.”

“I surrender my will to you,” the boys said in unison.

“Cable boy puppet, join your brother on the couch.

“Yes, Puppet Master.”

“I want you to stroke your cocks and keep your eyes on me and those wonderful words that are enslaving you.”

“Yes, Puppet Master,” the boys answered in unison again.

Drake had been tinkering with the mind control program –a combination of text, strobe lights and images for a while. It wasn’t until his cable had gone out after a particularly strong thunderstorm and Travis had shown up to do the repairs that Drake finally had a test subject.

He hadn’t initially known how long to let the programming run. Drake had watched on camera from his bedroom as Travis had cum multiple times until he was shooting blanks. Drake had been looking forward to ravishing the Travis’ tight jock ass before he heard the cable dispatcher radio in to ask how much longer Travis was going to be on the job. Drake had ordered his puppet to act normal and tell the dispatcher that he was just finishing up.

Which was good, because there was another job in the same building…3B. Drake had quickly hatched a plan to enslave that unit, too. He knew it belonged to a beefy Irish guy named Sean who was always wearing custom tailored suits that showed off an ass that looked like two melons.

Later that night as Drake alternated fucking Travis and Sean, all of them agreed that further installation in the building was in order. Drake had commanded Travis to call him anytime a service request came in for any of the units in the building and for Sean to talk up the cable service with any of the building’s male residents.

Sean, being a hedge fund manager, was a natural-born seller. He was able to convince the frat guys in 4C that they just had to get Cablevision. After the mental puppet strings had been attached. Sean and Drake had taken turns taking each of the frat boys’ asses for a test drive.

And speaking of test drives, it was time to test his control over Bryce.

“Bryce, stop jacking your cock and look deep into my eyes,” Drake ordered.

Drake could see that Bryce really didn’t want to stop masterbating. He looked like he needed to cum so badly. And yet, he raised both hands above his head and complied with his Master’s wishes.

“Good puppet! Puppet Travis’ dick looks a little dry. Lube it up with your mouth, puppet,” Drake ordered.

It was evident that Bryce had never given a blow job before, given that Travis winced when Bryce’s teeth scraped his dick.

“Puppet Bryce, watch your teeth,” Drake instructed. “We’ll need to have you work on your oral skills.”

Bryce pulled himself off the cable guy’s cock. “Yes, Puppet Master.”

Travis’ hips were soon thrusting upward and he grabbed Bryce’s head to keep his mouth firmly planted on his tool.

Bryce was both gagging and drooling. Drake watched the debasement for a good five minutes.

“That’s enough, Puppet Bryce. His tool is sufficiently lubed up now. Look back at me. That’s it.”

He watched as Bryce’s eyes slowly found their way back to his.

“Puppet boy Bryce when you hear me and only me say the following words ‘Puppet boy Bryce who caught my glance, now is the time to fall back into trance’ you’ll instantly return to this blissful puppet state for me, won’t you?”

“Yessss, Puppet Master.”

“Good puppet. Now I need you to do one more thing for me, Puppet Bryce.”

“Anything for you, Puppet Master,” Bryce replied.

“I want you to do exactly what I do, Puppet Bryce.”

“That’s it, Puppet Bryce. Keep looking into my eyes as you flip onto your stomach for me.”

Drake began to hump the bed as he watched the boy comply.

“Reach back around, Puppet Bryce. I need you to spread those cheeks and open your hole for me.”

Drake snickered as he watched Bryce’s dick leak cock snot all over his couch as Bryce complied.

“Puppet Travis: go to the door and make sure it is unlocked. I’ll be down soon. Puppet Bryce: finger that hole.”

Drake watched Travis get up off the couch and walk off screen as Bryce moaned and inserted a finger into his tight chute.

“Loosen that hole for me, Puppet.”

“Yes, Puppet Master,” Bryce said as he inserted a second finger into his ass.

“Good puppet.”

Travis returned and stood in front of the couch. He had a blissful look of sheer obedience and adoration on his face.

“Well done, Puppet Travis. You deserve to be awarded. Puppet Travis, you may warm up that ass for me. And don’t forget to keep your eyes on the screen as you fuck him.”

“Yes, Master.”

Drake switched off the live feed and turned on the reinforcement programing routine.

The sexy, black, white and gray stack filled the screen and both puppets’ eyes were drawn back to it.

Drake threw on a pair of running shorts and then walked down the hall to break in his new puppet.

“Such a wonderful sight,” he exclaimed as he entered Bryce’s apartment and shut the door behind him. “Puppet Travis, you can stop fucking Puppet Bryce now.”

“Yes, Puppet Master,” Travis said as he pulled his still hard dick out of the master’s latest acquisition.

“Now, my puppets,” Drake said as he kicked off his running shorts. “I need you to both face the wall and bend over.”

He alternated fucking both of them until all three were a hot sweaty mess. “Kiss each other as I anoint each of you, my Puppets,” he said as both Travis and Bryce made out with wild abandonment.

Drake shot his load into Bryce’s ass and then quickly pulled out and shoved his dick into Travis’ ass for the last few spurts.

“On your knees, Puppet Travis. And face the screen,” Drake ordered.

“Yes, Puppet Master,” Travis said.

“Puppet Bryce, show me what a good puppet you are and paint his face with your cum,” Drake said as he grabbed Bryce’s cock and began stroking it.

It took all of six strokes before Bryce’s cock shot out ten volleys of cum, coating Travis’ cheek, nose, eyes and hair. Travis did not react at all. He kept his gaze firmly on the TV.

Drake had Bryce lick his load off of Travis’ face. Again, the tongue bath failed to divert Travis’ gaze.

“Stand up, Puppet Travis. On your knees, Puppet Bryce. And keep your mouth open.”

“Yes, Puppet Master,” both boys answered in unison and moved to comply with the direct order.

Puppet Bryce sat there on his knees watching what truly was must-see TV and the Puppet Master jacked Puppet Travis’ cock until he shot his load. All but one of the six shots hit his open mouth.

Drake had Puppet Bryce swallow and then switched off the TV. He put on his running shorts.

“Both of you are going to now shower and clean up. You’ll both dress and once clothed, you will wake up from your puppet trance until I next call on you.”

“Yes, Puppet Master.”

Drake watched the pair head toward the bathroom and then exited the apartment to return to his own. The weather alert on his phone indicated another heavy thunderstorm was about to hit the area.

With a little luck, someone else’s cable would soon need servicing.

Tommy had been pissed. The gym were he had spend the last three years sculpting his 24 year-old body had closed rather unceremoniously. He hadn’t worked out in two full weeks when he happened to drive by the old place to find it was not only open again, but it appeared to be busier than ever.

“Good thing I’m already in his gym shorts and an old t-shirt,” he thought as he pulled his pickup truck into the last space in the parking lot.

The sign above the check-in desk indicated the gym was now under new management. Tommy had a lifetime membership with the old gym. He hoped they’d honor the agreement, but figured they wouldn’t

“I’ll be with you in a second,” an older guy in a white t-shirt and jeans said as he escorted a shirtless guy from the back office and into the locker room.

“I want you to take a long, hot shower, drink plenty of water to rehydrate, get plenty of sleep and then we’ll see you back here bright and early to continue your training,” the older guy told the twenty-something Italian jock as he rubbed the back of the guy’s neck.

“Whatever you say, coach,” the Italian guy said. The guy seemed to be a bit out of it.

“That guy alright,” Tommy asked, eyeing the guy up. Dark hair graying on the sides, the guy wore a gym whistle around his neck and some Buddhist prayer beads around his wrist. He screamed “academic” more than athletic coach.

“Tony just had a pretty intense workout, he’ll be fine. I’m Pete,” the man said holding out his hand.

Tommy shook his hand. “Tommy.”

“You seem to be in pretty good shape, Tommy. What brings you in?”

“I used to work out here before it changed owners,” Tommy replied. The guy seemed to be eyeing him up and down.

“You’ll be interested to hear that I’ve decided to honor all existing contracts, then,” Pete said.

“Not to be too forward, but how do you plan on making any money,” Tommy asked.

“My background is in sports psychology and I plan on offering one-on-one sessions designed to get guys like you to the next fitness level,” Pete said.

Tommy frowned. He knew there would be a catch.

“The one-on-one training is completely optional,” Pete said. “You look like you’re already dressed to work out. Why don’t you hit the gym and then when you’re done, come back up here. I’ll take your measurements, show you the orientation video and we can go from there.”

“Sounds great,” Tommy said.

Inside the gym, Tommy immediately noticed that nothing about the place had really changed all that much. The equipment was all the same. The same shitty techno music blared from the speakers. None of the guys spoke. They seemed to be extremely focused on their workouts. Tommy saw his friend Matt on the leg machine. The guy was just shredding it.

“Looking good, Matt,” he said. “Y

Matt looked up at Tommy. It was almost as if a switch was off in Matt’s head. It was just a second, though.

“Brah, what’s up,” Matt said, standing up. “Sorry about looking spacey. You know how I get on leg day.”

“No prob. Dude, you look amazing.”

“Yah think,” Matt asked. He pulled up his shirt to reveal washboard abs. “Yah thinkin’ about signing up?”

“Well, they’re gonna honor my lifetime membership, so what do I have to lose?”

“Kewl. We can work out together. You should sign up for a session or two with Coach Pete, too. The guy gets you amazing results. Just look at me,” Matt said, striking a pose. “Now get your ass on this machine as I rack ‘em up. Gonna take a few pounds off ‘cuz I know you ain’t quite up to where I’m at, but we’ll get ya there.”

“I’m not sure I can afford those sessions. How much do they run,” he asked his friend as he stepped into the leg press.

“Dude, don’t worry about it. Pete is more than willing to work something out. Now give me three sets of ten and push like ya mean it,” Matt said with a smile as he slapped Tommy on the back.

Matt really put Tommy through his paces. Barbell squats,dumbbell lunges, leg curls and calf raises. He was soaked with sweat and his legs were on fire by the time they were through. While Tommy struggled to keep up, Matt seemed to execute each exercise with machine-like precision.

“Dude, you seem to zone out a lot,” Tommy mentioned to him as they got some water from the cooler.

“It’s focus, brah,” Matt said. “Hydrate,” he added, pointing to the cup of water he poured Tommy.

Tommy downed the water.

“It’s got a weird aftertaste. Sort of metallicy,” Tommy said.

“It’s Coach Pete’s proprietary recipe. It’s got electrolytes and shit in it. You get used to it. Let’s get you checked in with Coach.”

Matt said, slapping Tommy on the shoulder and leading him back to the front desk.

“I see Matt put you through your paces,” Pete said.

“I sure did, Coach,” Matt said.

“You know the drill, Matt. Shower, hydrate, get plenty of sleep and we’ll see you back here tomorrow for your one-on-one.”

“Yes, sir! See ya around, Tommy,” his friend said before turning to walk over to the water cooler. Tommy watched him down at least three glasses of the water. He was feeling a bit light-headed himself.

“A lot of the guys find they get thirsty when the push themselves hard,” Pete said. “Step into my office.”

Pete closed the door behind him, grabbed a clipboard that had a piece of paper on it and measuring tape.

“Take off your shirt, Tommy.”

Tommy was confused and feeling more and more light headed.

“Take off your shirt, Tommy,” Pete repeated with more authority this time. “Coach Pete needs to take your measurements.”

Measurements? That made sense to Tommy. He took off his shirt.

Coach Pete quickly wrote down the measurements of his neck, chest, arms, waist and legs.

“Have a seat on the couch, Tommy. It’s time for your orientation video,” Coach Pete said.

Tommy sat on the couch. It was comfy. Coach Pete handed him some more water and made sure he drank it all down.

“Now, I need you to pay really good attention to this, OK Tommy?”

“S-s-s-sure,” Tommy said, slurring his words.

“Sure, what,” Coach Pete asked.

“S-s-s-sure Coach.”

“Good boy.” Coach Pete pressed play. “I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.”

Coach Pete closed the door behind him, but Tommy hadn’t noticed. He was focused on the images on the TV. Strange sounds seemed to come from it along with a captivating spiral. Photos of people working out flashed in the background along with words that Tommy couldn’t quite make out.

After a few minutes, naked images of men seemed to replace those of men working out.

“Obey Coach. Stroke,” flashed on screen.

Tommy didn’t have a gay bone in his body, but when the words flashed to instruct him to stroke his dick, that’s exactly what he had to do.

He wanted to see gains. Coach could help him achieve that, but only if he OBEYED COACH.

He found himself agreeing with the programing. He would always hydrate while at the gym. He would push himself hard and focus only on exercising when at the gym. He would agree to one-on-one’s with coach whenever Coach asked. He would show off his body to his male friends and make sure he brought them to Coach. He would do anything that Coach asked without question.

The images that flashed behind the spiral become more sexual in nature. Had the spiral not had its hooks into him, Tommy might have noticed one of them showed his friend Matt on his knees, a load of jizz splattered across his face.

STRIP

Tommy lost the shorts and threw his head back as he continued to watch the orientation video and stroke his dick.

Coach Pete returned about 20 minutes later to find Tommy completely blissed out.

“Hydrate,” he said, handing Tommy another cup of the water. The spiral had told Tommy he liked the taste of the water and damned if the spiral wasn’t right.

“You’re a little bit beefier than most of my clients prefer, but we’ll soon change that,” Coach Pete said.

“Have you ever had sex with a man,” Coach Pete asked.

“N-n-no, Coach.”

Coach Pete began to stroke Tommy’s cock. “It’s the most pleasurable thing you will experience. Better than any woman you’ve ever been with. Understand?”

“Yes, Coach.”

Coach Pete pushed Tommy’s legs up. “Time to break in that cherry.”

Tommy felt Coach eat out his sweaty ass the way he used to go to town on a chick’s box. He moaned and shuddered with delight. Coach was right. This was better than when he was with any chick. No wonder chicks liked to have their boxes eaten.

After about five minutes, Tommy’s hole was good and wet.

“Stand up and bend over,” Coach ordered. He shoved an index finger up his ass.

“Damn, Tommy. You are tight.”

Tommy moaned more as he continued to jack his cock that was now slick with precum.

“That’s it, boy. Loosen up for Coach.”

“Yes, Coach.”

Coach soon had a second and then a third finger trusting in and out of Tommy’s ass. The spiral was right. Tommy couldn’t believe how good it felt. He was thrusting back and forth on the fingers now.

Coach Pete pulled his fingers out, stood behind Tommy and pushed his jeans and boxer briefs down.

“Nothing is going to feel as good as my cock up your ass, understand boy?”

“Yes, Coach.”

“You’ll do anything I ask to get another taste of it,” Coach Pete said, thrusting into him.

Tommy saw stars as the Coach’s seven inch dick rubbed against his prostate.

He grabbed Tommy by the hair and fucked him with wild abandoned.

“Your ass is so tight, it’s not going to take me too long. You’ll come when I come.”

“Yes, Coach.” Tommy had felt and orgasm building, but somehow willed himself to hold out.

After another five minutes, Coach told him to get ready and then trust one final time deep into his ass.

The minute he felt the cum in his ass, he came all over the couch. Coach Pete told him to clean up the mess he made on his couch and to clean off Coach’s dick. Tommy was only to happy to do it.

Coach took one finally look at Tommy as he sat on the couch dazed and out of breath.

“I think you’re gonna work out just fine.”

The gift keeps on giving

Spencer had started performing on cam to make ends meet after his roommate suddenly moved out of the two-bedroom apartment they had shared in the West Village. It had been a douche move to stick him with the rent, but Spencer soon found that a couple of performances on cam a week could earn him enough to pay the rent for the month.

Initially, he had been quite reserved. A strip tease seemed to be enough to earn him enough tokens. As the weeks passed and his legion of fans grew, they became increasingly demanding. Spencer –who was in between girlfriends– figured if he was going to jack off, he might as well get paid for it. But he drew the line at sticking anything up his ass.

One of his fans –a Mr. Anderson– was particularly insistent to see Spencer pop his own cherry on camera.In a private conversation window after Spencer concluded his latest show by spraying a week’s worth of cum on his hairy chest and belly, he offered Spencer enough money to pay his rent for the year with two conditions: 1. the show would be private and 2. Mr. Anderson would get to pick the device.

Spencer had no problem with the first condition. He figured since Mr. Anderson was paying, it should be a private show for him and him alone. Besides, if the experience didn’t totally turn him off, Spencer figured he could soak another gay man for a hefty fee to deflower his ass again.

The second condition freaked him out, though.

“Dude, I ain’t shoving a pylon up my ass,” he typed into the chat window.

“Relax. I know it’s your first time,” Mr. Anderson pinged back. He attached a photo of the vibrator he had in mind. It was thin, purple and not too long. Spencer sealed the deal with a deposit of half the money in his account.

The package arrived a couple of days later. Spencer unpacked the device, put the batteries in it and then emailed Mr. Anderson.

Anderson wanted an hour of Spencer to himself and they arranged the private show for the following Saturday. Spencer showered and cleaned himself, making sure that his ass was clean as a whistle. He put on a pair of black boxer briefs and some gym shorts and then turned on his cam at the agreed upon time.

He initially felt a little weird watching Mr. Anderson watch him via the cam on his computer screen. Anderson wasn’t at all what Spencer had thought he would be, though. The guy on the other end was far from an old, creepy faggot. He was in his 30s with red hair cut in a sort of military fashion. He wore horn-rimmed glasses and a Star Wars t-shirt and shorts. The look was very hipster-nerd.

It actually put Spencer a bit at ease. Mr. Spencer looked like someone he would have a chat with over a couple of PBRs.

“Nice to finally see you in person,” Spencer said. “You can hear me, right?

“Yes, boy. I can hear you. Do you have the device?”

Spencer held it up for him and then began to flex and cock tease Mr. Anderson, but he was having none of it.

“Quit stalling and get naked now,” Mr. Anderson said. “I want to see that purple dildo shoved up your virgin ass. Use the lube that came in the package.”

“Might as well get this over with,” Spencer thought to himself. He grabbed the lube out of the box and flipped the cap of it open. He poured what he hoped would be enough lube to make this as painless as possible.

“It’s purple,” he said out loud.

“Spread your legs a bit and lube the outside of your hole, boy.”

The lube was initially cold, but seemed to instantly heat up. He could feel his hole relaxing.

“It gets better boy. Stick it in.”

Spencer cautiously placed the tip of the purple device at his hole.

“I don’t have all day, boy. Take a deep breath and plunge just the tip in.”

Spencer had intended to do just that, but the device had a mind of its own and seemed to slide itself all the way in.

“Fffffuck,” Spencer said.

“Just lie back and let the machine do its work. It needs to find your joy buzzer.”

Mr. Spencer turned and looked off screen. It was almost as if he was looking at another monitor.

Spencer could feel the lube warming and numbing his ass. It soon began to spread down his thighs and up through his stomach.

“What the ffffuck….” Spencer said.

“Good, good. Purple ooze is at 25 percent absorption rate.

Spencer felt the warmth spread down to his legs and toes as well as into his chest and arms. The device in his ass began to gently vibrate. Spencer was awash in pleasure.

The device began to pick up speed. The warmth and numbness spread into Spencer’s head. He heard a loud PING from his computer that seemed to trigger an electric shock from the device in his ass.

“FFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUCCCCCK,” Spencer screamed.

“90 percent absorption. You might feel pieces of yourself begin to slip away. Don’t be alarmed. This is all part of the process as you are being reformatted.”

“Reformatted,” Spencer asked with growing concern.

“You’ve been a perfectly good little cock tease for a month now. I’m going to make you into something better. A full fledge sex drone. Won’t that be nice?”

Spencer could see that Mr. Anderson had opened his jeans and was jacking his cock. He assumed that maybe this was all some sick fantasy.

Until Mr. Anderson pushed a button and the computer once again emitted a loud PING, causing electric pulses to shoot through his body. Spencer’s eyes rolled back in his head.

“The electric pulses are triggering the nanites from the purple ooze that are now swimming in your bloodstream.”

“No, no more,” Spencer pleaded.

“My dear boy, we haven’t finished processing you yet.” Mr. Anderson hit a button again. Another jolt. He hit the button again. Another jolt.

Spencer could feel them in his brain. Reformatting him. Adjusting his sexuality. Some much pleasure. He could only yield to it.

“100 percent absorption. Excellent.” He pushed the button one final time.

PING

Spencer shot all over himself. His cum was now a strange, purple hue. Not that Spencer cared. Spencer wasn’t really there any more.

He sat there for another hour. The computer would occasionally PING to reward him as more and more of himself was upgraded.

There was a knock at his apartment door and he calmly got up and opened it.

It was Mr. Anderson, the proud new owner of a Sex Drone 2000.

Elders Jensen and Smith rang the doorbell, eager to begin their ministry. The elders back in Salt Lake City had told them that, thanks to a popular musical called “The Book of Mormon,” that people seemed a bit more willing to open their doors to Mormon missionaries. If for nothing else, for at least a selfie with an actual Mormon.

While the church couldn’t officially condone the raunchy musical, there was no denying that God was using the wicked play to open people’s doors. It was up to Elders Jensen and Smith to open their hearts and minds to the teachings of the church.

Tierney was not one of those people.

A self-described punk wiccan, Tierney was much well-versed in a older, more powerful religion that predated “the cult of the magic tablets” (as he liked to refer to Mormons).

As head of his coven, he was always looking for new converts, though. So, he centered his energies and pushed some mind magick at the two unsuspecting Mormon boys.

Elders Jensen and Smith froze as the wave of mind-numbing energy hit them. Elder Jensen moaned softly with pleasure. Elder Smith was another story. He was fighting the thrall. He broke free and ran down the street. He knew he was forbidden to leave his assigned Elder missionary, but the fight or flight instinct proved too great and his legs carried him away.

“Guess that leaves just you and me,” Tierney said with a smirk. “Get your Mormon ass in here and close the door behind you.”

Though a voice inside of his head was screaming out not to, Elder Jensen’s body betrayed him and he closed the door and entered the apartment.

“You’re going to want to sit down on the couch as I chat about MY religion,” Tierney ordered the boy.

Elder Jensen reached somewhere deep inside himself to find the energy to defy the order. His looked down at his legs and silently willed them not to move. He looked back at Tierney, quite please with himself. He had expected to see a look of surprise or anger. Tierney, however, was smiling.

“That strong will will serve me well once its purpose has been aligned and redirected. SIT.”

Tierney barely seemed to exert any energy at all, but the blast of willpower nearly knocked Elder Jensen over. Once again, his legs betrayed him and he sat on the couch.

“Well done, Elder Jensen. Feel a wave of intense pleasure NOW.”

A tingling desire spread from the top of his head and spread quickly throughout Elder Jensen’s body. He felt his cock harden and his toes curl.

Tierney sat on the coffee table opposite his prey. He used his right hand to gently bring Jensen’s gaze in alignment with his.

Elder Jensen became lost in Tierney’s eyes. Tierney uttered an incantation and Elder Jensen watched as Tierney’s eyes seemed to turn a milky white. Those eyes seemed to be pulling him down. He was drowning in them. Much like that snake Kaa in “The Jungle Book” cartoon he used to love as a kid.

“Yes,” Tierney said with a laugh and a smile. “Just like that snake and his prey.”

A flash of concern washed briefly across Elder Jensen’s face.

“Yes, boy. I’m in your head. Your thoughts are now my thoughts. That doesn’t concern you. Actually, you feel pleasure in letting me in, don’t you?”

Tierney pushed another wave of pleasure at the boy, who began to drool in response.

“Think about how much of your life you’ve spent without pleasure,” Tierney said, moving in closer to the boy. “Pleasure from alcohol, coffee, chocolate.”

He pushed ripples of pleasure at the helpless teen with every word.

“Pleasures of the flesh.”

A tidal wave of pleasure hit Elder Jensen.

“It’s time we changed all that,” Tierney rose, never losing the boy’s stare. He quickly removed his shirt.

“I’m a practitioner of a special kind of magick,” he said as he rubbed and pinched his left nipple. “It requires an enormous amount of energy, but not just any kind of energy.”

Tierney unbuttoned his jeans and his cock flopped out in front of the boy. Elder Jensen could only stare as Tierney’s cock hardened before his eyes.

“I require sexual energy and, you, my dear, sweet, naive boy, are going to give it to me. In no time at all, I’m going to have you gooning out with the rest of my coven, generating all the energy I need to help spread the one true religion.”

Tierney gently placed his hand on the teen’s head and brought it closer to his cock. Again, Elder Jensen found some bit of willpower to resist.

“Not quite there yet, eh? Perhaps this will help change your mind,” Tierney said, rubbing his celtic knot necklace until it began to grow an unnatural gold color.

He lifted the teen’s chin until the boy’s gaze fell upon the necklace.

“You had hoped to convert me, but the tables have turned, haven’t they Elder Jensen.”

Elder Jensen’s mind and being seemed to be completely ensnared by the glow of Tierney’s jewelry.

“That’s it. Just let its energy fill you. Feel it washing away all that doubt and nasty thoughts that have kept you from feeling this intense pleasure.

A part of Elder Jensen held on. The voice in his head that still belonged to his old self tried to force his eyes to avert their gaze. The necklace seemed to react to this last bit of resistance from Elder Jensen. It glowed brighter. As his resistance began to permanently fade, a single tear ran down his face.

“I promise you, boy. Once my energy is inside of you, you will cry nothing but tears of joy. Just allow yourself to give in. You cannot win. You will eventually yield to the pleasure.”

Elder Jensen pulled his head back.

“Enough foreplay,” Tierney said. “You are testing my patience. Given in! Yield to your superior and know only pleasure from this moment on.”

A ball of yellow energy seemed to burst forth from the necklace, hitting Elder Jensen.

Tierney could feel the last of the boy’s resistance fade away as the boy shuddered and shot a load without touching himself.

“That’s a good boy,” he said gingerly rubbing Elder Jensen’s head. “Let’s get that pretty little throat of yours lubed up with my essence and make this permanent. Get down on my dick, boy.”

Elder Jensen attempted to take the full 8 inches in all at once.

“Relax, breath and open up that throat,” Tierney instructed and he plunged in and out of Elder Jensen’s mouth.

Tierney’s cock began to leak copious amounts of precum. To Elder Jensen, the taste was like honey. He couldn’t get enough of it.

“That’s it. Swallow all of it and feel me inside of you,” Tierney said as he shot his load. Elder Jensen could feel it hit the back of his throat and instinctively pulled back, but Tierney forcibly kept the lad’s head in place. Elder Jensen swallowed the spooge and felt himself go numb.

“Time to bind you to me,” Tierney said, pulling Elder Jensen up from his knees.

Elder Jensen could feel Tierney’s will and essence flow through him. He could only stare with lust over his new Master.

Tierney unbuckled the teen’s pants and fished out his cock.

“Get it hard for me, boy,” he commanded.

Elder Jensen’s cock immediately hardened.

Tierney quickly deep-throated the dick and swirled his tongue around it. The pleasure seemed to short-circuit what was left of Elder Jensen’s brain.

“My god,” Elder Jensen gasped and came a second time.

Tierney heard a familiar “ping” letting him know that Elder Jensen’s mind had been completely subdued and finished sucking the boy dry.

Tierney rose and looked at the lad. Elder Jensen’s mind was awash and his face bore the look of true devotion.

“I need to recharge my energies before we go have a talk with Elder Smith,” Tierney said.

Tierney pointed to the pentagram drawn on the floor. “Strip and step into the pentagram.”

Elder Jensen complied.

“Time to goon for me, boy.”

Elder Jensen began to stroke his dick.

“That’s it. Keep stroking. About an hour should do it and then we can go find your friend and help him see the light.”

Thoughts filled Elder Jensen’s head as he continued to stroke. Though he knew they did not originate from his own mind, he accepted them as his own. Elder Smith would no doubt resist at first, but in the end, he would fall on his knees. Elder Jensen could not wait to feel Elder Smith’s soft lips wrapped around his dick as the Master fucked Elder Smith into submission.

From there, they would move onto Elder Thomas. And then Elder Wilson. And then Elder Banner…it would be a pleasure to do his Master’s work.

Tierney smirked as the images of Elder Jensen filled his head.

Yes, Elder Jensen would be quite helpful in his new mission.

Pods -Part 3 Coach builds a winning team

“You wanted to see me after practice, coach” Bryce Ward said as he entered Coach’s office.

“Yeah,” Coach Sawyer replied. “Close the door behind you.”

The tight end turned to shut the door and frowned. Closed doors with the Coach never meant anything good. He immediately went through all the play drills from the day, trying to anticipate just wear he had screwed up.

“Relax, Ward. You seem tense,” Coach Sawyer said with a smile. His dick started to harden. He had the tight end just where he wanted him: alone with him in the privacy of his office. He had a pod at the ready just under his desk.

“If it’s about being off sides during that one play formation, I’m really sorry, Coach.”

“Well, I can’t say I haven’t noticed that your head hasn’t been in the game, but we’ll fix that. We’ll make sure you’ll soon play with a new purpose and focus.”

“Y-y-yes, sir.”

“Seriously, kid. Relax! Take off that shirt and shoulder pads.”

Bryce didn’t really think anything of it and quickly complied with the Coach’s request. He flexed and puffed up his chest, determine to show the Coach that he had been hitting the gym pretty hard outside of the regular practices.

Coach Sawyer watched the tight end flex for him as Sawyer rubbed his cock under his desk. The 20 year-old Ward was so naive and so trusting. A part of him wanted Ward to be aware of his own conversion.

And, let’s face it. Coach Sawyer really wanted to know how much of a tight end Ward really was.

“Anyone expecting you in the next hour or so, son,” Coach Sawyer asked, staring into the frightened boy’s eyes.

“N-n-no, sir,” Ward said, shifting uncomfortably. This was going to be more than the usual 10 minute admonishment.

The coach reached into his drawer.

He pulled out what looked like some kind of massage oil, but it had a green tint to it.

Bryce looked at the coach with a mixture of confusion, fear and concern.

Coach Sawyer walked over in front of Bryce. He needed to ensure that his prey couldn’t suddenly bolt from the office if his experiment didn’t work.

“C-c-coach, what is that,” Bryce asked, pointing to the bottle.

“This,” the coach said, holding up the bottle with the green-tinted liquid,”this is something the boys in the science department cooked up. It’s supposed to aid in muscle recovery and help you bulk up.”

“Like steroids,” Bryce asked.

“Something like that. Let’s just say it’s gonna help me make a new man out of you. Lose the pants.”

“The pants?”

“Yeah, lose all the gear but your jock. They tell me I need to make sure I spread this on all of your major muscle groups.”

Bryce hesitated.

“I need to know you are committed to the team, son. Do I need to cut you from the roster and give that scholarship to someone else? Or are you committed to the team?”

“Y-y-yes, sir.”

“Then drop trou, son.”

Bryce undid his cleats and then pulled the padded football pants off.

“Good boy. Let’s get started.”

Coach Sawyer warmed some of the liquid between his hands. He felt a slight euphoria, nothing more. He had been getting steady doses of the drug from his Master since Patrolman Marty Donovan had been kind enough to recruit him. It was Donovan, in fact, that had given Coach Sawyer the idea to lace the massage oil with some of the slime. A few drops on his neck and face had made him immobile. Diluted in oil, Coach Sawyer was hoping the mixture would make his players compliant enough for the conversion. Ward was his test case in part because the kid had been half-assing it on the field and Coach Sawyer knew he’d agree to anything to avoid getting cut from the team.

He started by rubbing the kids neck, shoulder and arms.

“It t-t-tingles,” Bryce said.

“That’s how you know it’s working,” Coach Sawyer replied, pouring some of the oil on the lad’s chest.

“Head feels funny,” Bryce said.

“You’re head shouldn’t be feeling anything. Let me work this into your thighs, legs and ass, boy,” Coach Sawyer said as he poured more of the oil into his hands.

“I don’t want this,” Bryce said, his voice sounding more distant.

“This here will change your mind.”

Coach Sawyer lathered a generous amount on Ward’s thighs and legs and then really worked it in. The boy let out a moan as more and more of the alien slime soaked into his skin and then into his bloodstream.

He moved onto the kid’s tight ass. Ward was living up to his position. His butt was firm. Coach Sawyer couldn’t wait to plunge his cock into the kid’s tight hole, taking him to even more blissed out heights.

He coated his index finger in more of the oil slime and slipped a finger up Ward’s ass.

The Coach stopped a minute to stroke his cock through his track pants and admire his work. The kid was blissed out.

Now for the true test. He didn’t just want the kid paralyzed like he had been. He was hoping the diluted liquid would just make the kid compliant to him.

“You want to take off your jock for coach.”

Somewhere in the recesses of his brain, Bryce was screaming out that this was wrong.

“Take. Off. Your. Jock. For. Coach.”

Bryce felt his hands move on their own accord. He was powerless to stop himself.

“Good boy. You deserve a reward.”

Coach Sawyer poured more of the green liquid into his hands.

“No, no more. Please,” Bryce begged.

“Shhhh,” Coach Sawyer said, sinking to his knees. “It’s time to quiet that voice in your head.”

He stroked the kid’s cock to full mast. Bryce’s resistance seemed to melt away with every stroke. Coach Sawyer slathered his balls with the oil and made sure the tight end’s junk was sufficiently slicked up.

He stood up and looked at the tight end. He had a dazed look and he was drooling.

Coach Sawyer walked over to his desk and retrieved the pod. He placed it next to Ward’s feet.

His Master told him he needed to be rewarded for his ingenuity and commanded the coach to strip. Not that Coach Sawyer needed much persuading. He pulled his shirt over his head and took up his track pants.

“Bend over the desk, son,” Coach Sawyer said as he gave a few strokes to his cock.

Bryce complied, moving robotically.

“I want you to beg me to fuck you and after I am done, you’re going to pick up that pod and place it on your back –even though you know it is going to enslave you.”

Bryce reached back to pull his buttocks apart. “Please, Coach. Fuck me.”

Coach Sawyer lubed up his cock with more of the green slime. He plunged into the boy.

Bryce moaned as his rectum and prostate absorbed more of the green slime. His hole seemed to almost convulse and gripped the coach’s cock.

“Damn, son. If I didn’t know any better I’d say your ass was trying to suck ever last bit of slime off my dick,” the coach laughed as he thrust into his player’s hole.

“M-m-more,” Bryce moaned, trying to take the coach’s cock in as far as it would go.

Coach Sawyer noticed the kid’s ass fucking back in earnest. He was so blissed out, his conversion would happen in record time. Coach’s Master was pleased and released more of the drug.

Coach pulled out as the hit took full effect. He shot all over the already fertilized pod.

As Coach Sawyer caught his breath, Bryce stood up, reached down and grabbed the pod.

“Why don’t you welcome your master by cleaning up my spunk and warming him up,” the Coach said with a devilish grin.

Bryce licked the cum from the pod, lapping up some of the full-strength slime as well. He climaxed all over the floor and the coach’s thigh and feet as the pod slowly opened.

Bryce bent over the desk again and applied the pod just as he had been instructed.

Coach Sawyer was quite proud of himself. The test was a complete success. He redressed and as Ward lay across his desk completing his own conversion, Coach grabbed a second bottle of full-strength slime he had collected from the sixty pods that currently were resting in the equipment room.

The locker room had cleared out, save for a light coming from Jake Summers’ office. Summers was the swim coach and Coach Sawyer was immediately concerned if Summers had heard anything.

He held the green bottle of slime behind his back and knocked with his other hand.

“Come in,” Summers said.

“Burning the midnight oil, Jake” Coach Sawyer asked, eyeing the blond and blue-eyed 35 year-old Summer. Summer was in his usual attire, a red speedo the left very little to the imagination. Summer was packing. Coach Sawyer never used to notice that detail before his Master had shown him the way.

“Just got here. Thought I’d swim a few laps, shower and head out. You?”

“Had to have a chat with my tight end. Sometimes you have to bring ‘em around to your way of thinking, am I right,” Coach Sawyer said with a wink and smile.

“You gonna be here long or should I lock up my office,” Summer said, getting up from his desk.

“I’ve got a couple of more things to attend to,” Coach Sawyer replied. “Come see me after your shower.”

“Will do,” Summer said, as he walked past Coach Sawyer and out towards the pool.

Coach Sawyer watched Summer’s speedo-clad ass the entire way. As much as he wanted to be the first one to tap that, his Master told him he owed it to Bryce Ward to be the first.

He whistled to himself as he made his way into the shower room. In each of the stalls, he opened the soap dispenser, poured a bit of the slime into it and mixed it.

He returned to his office to find Bryce Ward standing against his desk.

“When can we convert the rest of the team,” Bryce asked.

“Easy there, son. All in good time.” He reached over and grabbed the boy’s dick and stroked it. Bryce lowered Coach Sawyer’s pants and returned the favor

Bryce stopped stroking when he heard the shower running. He looked at Coach Sawyer with a concerned look.

“Have you learned nothing, boy,” Coach Sawyer asked, rubbing the tight end’s neck. “Relax!”

The pair waited about ten minutes and then Coach Sawyer announced it was time.

He tossed his shirt aside and once again stepped out of his track pants. He then grabbed the tight end’s hand and escorted him out of his office and to the shower room.

“Go ahead, pull the curtain back,” Coach Sawyer said.

Bryce pulled the curtain back to find the swim coach, Coach Summer naked and standing there with a goofy grin on his face.

“Turn around, coach.” Coach Sawyer ordered.

Coach Summer seemed only too happy to oblige.

Bryce’s dick got rock hard at the sight of the coach’s firm ass.

Coach Sawyer nudged the kid forward.

“Go ahead, kid. You’ve earned it.”

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.

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.”