PECs Chapter four: Speed On His Own Evan Andrews ©2022
This set of stories is not a fan fiction, although it is high space opera. (So forgive the really dated terminology.) As always, though, I had a cast of faces in mind for the characters, a list of whom follows the story. Your image may differ, which is cool. This story should not be considered a true representation of the sexuality of any of the men in real life.
The story depicts males in pulp sci-fi sexual situations with other males. If this offends you, if you are underage, or if reading such is illegal where you are please stop reading now. Thank you.
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Speed had been in Bishop's solo training suite for... he had no idea how long he had been strapped to this table while the clearly alien device subjected his body (and, thanks to the Id Tap, his mind) to unending and unspeakable tortures. And he had to endure it alone. Speed assumed Feral was in another room, just like this one, undergoing the same torment. His brother PEC had been insensible (when he wasn't unconscious) for many hours before they'd been separated, and, if the truth be told, Speed wasn't sure quite how much of a support his presence would have been. Without it, though, the PEC knew that it was only a matter of time before he broke. Between the unending sucking and cumming (and the subliminal messages), Speed could feel his demise approaching.
The door opened, and Bishop sauntered into the room. He switched the sucking device to `stand by' and smiled down at the Earthling as he spiraled down to reality again.
"How's my pretty boy getting on?" the blond asked.
"Ugh. You're trying to make me and Feral into poofs!" Speed moaned.
"Really?" Bishop asked. He removed one of the suckers and ran a finger around the sensitive nipple.
The teasing touch made Speed's rigid cock pulse with need, but he growled, "It won't work."
"Of course it won't, and that's why we're doing nothing of the sort," Bishop said. "If I wanted you to faggot out I'd have put you to another machine and had it fuck your mouth... and fuck your ass... and suck your big dick... and feed you big doses of cum And I'd have used a different implant, not the Id tap. In a way, though, you are right. We are using our favorite torture to force you to realize the place you'll occupy in our society... and the duties that will be expected of the pec slave you'll be. Your orientation, whatever it might be, is yours to keep."
"Pec slave?" Speed gasped. "You keep using that word."
The redhead stud had been getting close to cumming again, and he was afraid he might break if he were tit-sucked to many more orgasms. Anything he could do to keep from having the machine turned back on, he'd do.
"What else should we call you but pec slave? You must have noticed all the attention we've been paying to your chest?" Bishop said as he stroked the plate of pinkish-white muscle. "That's the real lesson, you see. Your body, especially your luscious tits, belongs to other people now, and never again to you."
Speed groaned as Bishop pinched the free nipple.
"And when I say others, slave Speed, I mean the elite of the State, starting with me but ending who knows where. With luck, you might even end up serving the Prince and giving suck to the royal lips."
"Duh... duh.. duh!" Speed tried to say, but instead the pinching of his nipple proved to be just the stimulation his balls had needed. His cockhead flexed, and another flood of sperm escaped painted his belly.
"Fuck!" Speed sobbed.
"Your masters, slave Speed," Bishop said, ignoring the slave-in-training's distress, "No matter who they turn out to be, will suck on your lovely tits whenever they will and will grow strong on the Vril flowing from them. And you, my beautiful pec slave, will love it, every second of it, and you will beg them to let you give suck. And to prove that you're a worthy pec slave, you'll do anything—and I do mean anything—they tell you to, no matter how demeaning the task they set you might be."
"No," Speed gasped as he stared despairingly up at his tormentor. His mouth hung open as he recovered from this umpteenth orgasm.
"Yes. And you'll do it because letting a master suckle at your breast is the only way you'll ever again be able to cum. Ah, the beauties of hi-tech brainwashing."
Bishop took hold of Speed's shaft and stroked the redhead's cum-dappled tumescence.
"Ungh," Speed groaned.
"Until then, the Vril that men will suck from your tits will be bouncing around inside your body. It's a demanding companion, and what it's demanding is release."
Bishop ran a fingertip along the lips of Speed's still-scummy piss-slit.
"Eeah!" Speed cried. It had been bad to be tit-sucked to orgasm time and again, but Bishop handling his body as he was was a humiliating novelty.
"So believe me, slave Speed, when I tell you that the goal of this training was never to make you gay."
Speed moaned, and his cock began to leak heavily again. As Bishop squelchily masturbated him, the soon-to-be former warrior's mind heard what it wanted to out of the captain's speech. He would not be a poof. He would just be letting men suck on his nipples. And if he gave them what they wanted he'd get to drop a load again. He gasped, and that traitor part of his mind reminded him that he was a prisoner after all, and prisoners had been treated much worse.
Bishop, of course, had been lying through his teeth. Part of the process in reducing these proud warriors from Old Earth required humiliating them, deeply and constantly. Experience had shown that the best way to do this was to assault their macho egos. The captains used several different approaches, Bishop knew. Caber, captain of the Blue Hunter, achieved this by anally raping his prisoners hard and deep. Fucking them down with a vengeance and making them beg for more fucking. Bishop, on the other hand, never took his slaves that way. Instead, he gave them an ominous taste of things to cum before putting them into the Training Suite. After their stint on the tit-sucker, he would order them to demean themselves: by worshipping masters' bodies, by sucking masters' cocks, by licking up and eating cum from other bodies and off the floor-- and by fucking and sucking one another. Of course the final indignity would be voluntarily fucking themselves on a master's shaft. Oh yes, in a short time, to earn the right to give suck, even this paragon of Earthling masculinity would (straight or gay) commit any act he was ordered to, no matter how obscene, with or for anyone. Bishop could hardly wait.
Not that Bishop would get to keep the delicious redheaded pec slave for himself. He already had two pec slaves, a fortune in man-flesh. No, this pec slave, and his buddy, were destined to serve another master. Destiny could have designed a worse fate for the studs, of course. In comparison to what other factions would have done with the captives, reduction to the status of pec slave had its compensations. Slaves Beast and Polo (not to mention Dutch and Moe) could attest to that.
"I'll see you again soon—in twenty hours unless I miss my guess, slave Speed," Bishop said. "Until then think about what I've told you. There are worse things to be than pec slave to big-dicked colonial masters."
And that said, Bishop reattached the tit-sucker to his prisoner and started the machine up again.
"Argh!" Speed howled as the stimulation kicked in.
Kicked in with a vengeance, because his dick erupted once again.
"Yeah! Oh fuck! Fuck! So good! So.. oh fuck! I need..!"
And Bishop smiled.
Twenty hours? It sounded more like fifteen before the Terran would be prostrate before him, begging.
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Possible cast:
Colonials: Bishop, Triple H (WWE); Caber, Drew McIntyre (WWE)
Terrans: Speed, Sheamus (WWE) ; Feral, Finn Balor (WWE)