PECs Chapter six: The Gang That Bangs 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.
If you enjoy this story, or even if you hate it, please contribute to keeping Nifty going at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html
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The Black Hunter's journey to ShipClan Station and the throne world would, the slobgoblins estimated, take at least three hundred hours. Bishop realized that this left him and his crew a severely limited time in which to complete the pec slaves' training. They had submitted to their state as slaves, but the finer points of enslavement needed to be supplied now. To accomplish this, Bishop had commandeered one of the empty holds and turned it into the Academy, a finishing school of sorts. In this large chamber, the unfinished pec slaves would be housed, confined, but, most importantly, schooled in the minutiae of service as they sped towards their fate.
It didn't surprise Speed to be presented with more former warriors now slaves. The number "14" on his collar had prepared him for it (although clearly his mind was on things other than simple mathematics else he'd realize that two plus four plus ten added up to more than fourteen—and if he was the most recent to be collared...). He was surprised, however, at the quality of PEC warriors that had fallen into the colonial captain's perverted clutches.
Before the Black Hunter had stumbled over Speed and Feral, the colonials had (in addition to the bridge crew's slaves) taken:
Beach, with his mop of brown hair and his massive farm-boy muscles Little Dar Freak, whose monumental pectoral slabs that rivalled Beach's Mexican Frog with his thick hard body Cuddly pugilist Maple Svelte Indian Monkey Short but feisty Pitbull Long-haired show-off Sable Long-haired slab of muscle Rex And Java, with his coffee brown skin.
These ten, all properly collared and attired, their assholes bared and their sexual equipment hanging provocatively out of the clans' approved attire for pec slaves, had knelt and watched Speed and Feral go through their "fresh out of the Training Suites" submission ritual. Speed was not sure, but he thought he even detected a lustful gleam in a few of the other pec slaves' eyes.
Behind them stood a selection of the Black Hunter's crewmen.
"Slaves," Bishop said, "These crewmen will oversee your further training. Obey them at all times."
Speed had already met Pork and Beef, and he had seen Angel. Now a further four studs joined them. In time Speed would learn their names: mop-top Limerick; long-haired Acid; and the blond twins Dexter and Sinister, but right now Speed could only stare at their bodies (and the well-filled pouches of their trunks), imagining what it was going to be like to have any of them tit suck him to orgasm. A rogues' gallery of pec slave chubs told Speed that he was not alone in this stray fantasy.
But Bishop was continuing.
"Welcome to the Academy, your all have completed your basic education, but now you go to finishing school. For the next three hundred hours, you will be confined to this suite where you will be drilled (Pork snickered) in the fine art of abasing yourselves before your betters. Mostly this will involve you abusing or being abused by your fellow slaves in whatever manner the trainers order. This may involve sucking your fellows, or fucking them, or being fucked by them. It may, however, also involve cum eating and foot licking. You may be told to worship the bulge in a master's trunks, to suck his balls, to lick his sweaty asshole, or even to pull out his dick and suck him off."
And Bishop winked at Speed and Feral who had only just done precisely that.
Speed hazarded a glance at his new fellows, hoping they'd missed that wink. They had because, he saw, they were all seriously blushing. Speed figured that their graduation exercises after their stints in the Training Suite must all have involved not simply fucking one another, but sucking Bishop's shaft and swallowing his load as well. Since they were, as far as Speed knew, to a man all straight as laser light, voluntarily sucking the colonial captain's piece had to have been as much of a humiliation to them as it had been to him not moments earlier. And now, the realization that similar acts of depravity were again to be demanded of them—and in quantity-- showed in all the slaves' horrified faces-- even if their cocks told a different story.
"When you are not involved in active humiliation and abasement exercises, you will spend more time with your favorite tit-sucking machine," Bishop said, pointing to a bank of four padded chairs. "From there you can watch the festivities and be inspired. Slave Speed and slave Beach, you will begin on the machine."
The two designated pec slaves left the crowd of naked men and lay back on the padded chairs. Pork and Beef hooked them up, but this time neither crewman suggested strapping the slaves down. If they moved, the sucking devices would come loose, and they'd lose the chance to orgasm. All in all, a torture that inspired its victims to be voluntary participants.
"Uhhhh!" Beach moaned as the diabolical machine started in on his tits.
"Ahhhhh!" Speed sighed in response as his body recognized the stimulation and responded at the most basic "id" level—including the rigid chub.
"The rest of you pec slaves," Bishop used the word "slave" as often as he could to make sure the former warriors' subservient station became recognized, and accepted, "Bend over that railing and await further orders."
As Speed's mind wandered, his eyes fixed on a familiar sight, Feral's fat fuckable ass, open and once again ready for business. His buddy had been one of the tightest fucks Speed had ever experienced, and, straight as he was, a part of the redhead's mind was eager to once again bury his shaft back up that hot clinging cunt and fuck the shit out of it."
"Let's get this started," Pork said as Bishop retired to a smaller version of his captain's chair. "When I call your name, stand up. Slave Rex, slave Freak, slave Frog, slave Pitbull."
The four slaves stood and looked to the short blond crewman.
"Fuck the man to your left. Slave Rex, that'll be Monkey. Freak, lay it to Maple. Frog, drill Dar. And Pitbull, I want to see you leave Feral begging for more of your cock."
Hard dicks in hand, the four designated tops advanced on their once fellow warriors and crammed their anal chutes full of proud (as proud as they could manage, that was) pec slave cock. Cries, moans, and grunts filled the air as the room took on the scents of asshole and fucking. As the pec slaves fucked one another the crewmen/ trainers circled them, supplying tips and further instructions.
"Beazh," Speed stage whispered, addressing the sweat-covered man on the chair next to him, "Oooyer... Par... Ner! Argh!"
Speed's shaft had just leapt with a false orgasm.
The redhead turned to look at the big farm boy to see if he'd understood the question: who had been his partner? But Beach, Speed saw, had his eyes closed and was instead breathing in a controlled manner, either trying to think himself to an early orgasm or, less likely, trying to resist the sucking machine's torment.
`He's too far under the influence,' Speed guessed, but then Beach surprised him.
"Mongeeee...!" Beach gasped, ending the word in a cry as four thick wads of cum flowed out of his piss slit and oozed down his shaft. "...Eeeee!" Apparently, the newly enslaved Beach had formed a mental image of him fucking Monkey's ass, and that had been enough to push him over the edge.
Beach and Monkey, Speed thought. They would have made a handsome pair, and Speed could see them in his mind's eye, not garbed in their warrior's tights and vest—those would have been torn off their bodies when they were captured—but stark naked, lying side by side (at least in the beginning) as they faced the sweet horrors of the Training Suite. Later, Bishop would, of course, have called on them to fuck one another, leaving one another with the gift of their sperm. Only then would they have been ordered to double-team the captain's cock and prove themselves through their cocksucking to be true pec slaves.
Yeah. Speed closed his own eyes and imagined big Beach holding the little Indian's hips still while he did a human pile-driver initiation on the virgin man-pussy. Fuck that would have been.. so.. fucking.. hot! And Speed blew his wad too, firing five ropes of cum across his belly. Sobbing, the redhead realized that he'd just cum from no more stimulation than simple visualization of a poof sex scene between two straight men. Great space, what had these colonial bastards done to him?!
For the next five hours, the crewmen arranged and rearranged the top and bottom pec slaves. To Speed it was like they were playing one of those games where you tried to see how elaborate a tower you could stack before it collapsed—just this time they were using paragons of masculinity. The former warrior couldn't decide which pec slave looked best, or in what position. The only thing that Speed was definite about was that he was now looking forward to either fucking his training-buddy Beach or giving up his ass to the behemoth.
"Alright, slaves," Beef announced, "Stop fucking. Slaves Rex and Freak to the chairs. Slaves Beach and Speed, center stage on all fours where slaves Monkey and Feral will fuck your man-bitch holes. The rest of you slaves, on your knees between a master's spread legs and use your mouth to worship his bulge."
In doggie position, Speed offered up his man-cunt to his long-time buddy Feral who proceeded to breed it with indecent eagerness. Meanwhile Monkey drilled Beach like a woodworking professional— just using a different sort of wood on a different sort of hole. Dar, Frog, Maple, and Sable crawled to the newly introduced crewmen and applied their mouths to the debased worship of the distended pouches of the crewmen's trunks-- rubbing, licking, and kissing the delights within. In mere moments of watching this show, Rex and Freak reacted to the various acts of the man-sex spectacular with orgasmic cries as their tit-sucked bodies loosed gushers of sperm.
And that was just the beginning.
As the Black Hunter raced through the night, Bishop and his crew kept their eyes on the chronometer. It was a race against time to be sure their slaves were in top-notch shape for ShipClan Station.
The twelve pec slaves, on the other hand, floated in a hazy now consisting of one form of man on man sex or another, punctuated by regular screaming orgasms. When awake, they drifted in a maelstrom of hormone-fueled anguish, an agonizing forever of stewing desire and of extreme need--needs which there was no way to satisfy save at the masters' mercy. While asleep, the crew subjected them to additional bouts of subliminal reprogramming which elicited vivid erotic dreams. Awake or asleep, though, the pec slaves were trapped in a forever of groveling carnal degradation in which they begged their masters to erotically exploit their bodies—all so, if they performed well enough, these same masters might allow them the right to give suck—or at least to be assigned to the tit-sucking chairs.
Anything in order to cum.
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When the chronometer wound down to a mere 10 hours until rendezvous, Bishop returned to the Academy to assess the progress his pec slaves had made.
What he saw pleased him.
In the middle of the room, every single one of the slaves was actively involved in a great, ever-metamorphosing orgy. The scents of sweaty muscle, mucus, and pre-cum filled the air, and the captain's ears were assailed by groans of passion, the percussion of muscles slapping against other muscles, gagging, and squelchy masturbation.
Bishop scanned the pile and zeroed in on Speed, one of his favorites. The redhead, on his back with legs spread, was gagging on Freak's mouth-probing cock while Maple long-dicked his lily-white ass. Then Beach came up and, after pulling Maple out of the slave's hole, proceeded to piledrive the stud himself.
"Yes!" Speed cried, "Big.. Beach.. fuck.. dick.. ass.. yes!"
Bishop sat down in his chair and gestured to Pork.
"Pec slaves, suspend orgy," Pork ordered. "On your feet and assume slave display position (hands behind back with the chest—especially the nipples-- thrust forward)."
The slaves, slimy with sweat and fuck juices, came to their feet and fell in, presenting their bodies for Bishop's review. The captain stood and approached one end of the line-up.
Sable stiffened as Bishop ran eyes and hands over his filthy body. Fingers penetrated the long-haired pec slave's butt and a store of cum gushed out. Sable whined, and his eyes pleaded for a chance to earn release at the captain's hands—or rather his lips.
"Hmm," Bishop ventured before going on to Rex.
The colonial intimately examined each slave, raising the man's hopes but then leaving him and heading on to the next. Behind him rigidly frustrated men, still in slave display position, sobbed at having been denied the reward they figured they had earned.
At the far end of the line, Speed, fluids leaking from his ass, cockhead, and mouth, waited, confused. He had watched the muscular captain examine and dismiss every single one of his slave brothers. But why dismiss them? What was he looking for?
Bishop reached down and cupped Speed's heavy balls and rigid piece.
"Slave Speed," the captain said, "I asked you once what you were. What did you tell me?"
"I'm a pec slave, master captain Bishop," Speed replied eagerly. "I only exist to give suck to my master, nourish him with my Vril, and follow every command he gives me—no matter what the command."
"Correct," Bishop said as his paw encircled Speed's weeping shaft and stroked it. "Are you ready to prove it to me?"
"Master?" Speed said, confused.
Hadn't he fucked Feral? Hadn't he taken a facial of Feral's sperm and then endured it as the seeded Feral shat Speed's own cum back onto his face? Hadn't he eaten cum and then sucked Bishop until the colonial had shot a heavy load into his and Feral's mouths? Hadn't he spent like weeks in the Academy performing whatever demeaning sex acts the crewman trainers could come up with? What more was there for him to do?
"I have one last task for you," Bishop said as he sat down. "Pull off my trunks, park your ass on my dick, and ride it like one of your spaceport whores."
"Master!" Speed cringed. It was one thing to be taken by another pec slave, but it was something else entirely to voluntarily offer up your hole this way.
"A true pec slave doesn't hesitate, slave Speed," Bishop said in a commanding voice. "I want your hot ass riding my cock now!"
Speed had taken a half dozen steps towards Bishop before he realized what he was doing. Pausing for only a second, he shuddered, and crossed the rest of the distance to the captain.
"Worship that bulge, slave," Bishop said. Once Speed, crouching before the colonial, had gotten the pouch of the black trunks wet with saliva, especially where the captain's shaft forced the fabric to stand out, the captain continued, "Now pull down my trunks. Free my cock."
The black fabric slid over the thick thighs and was tossed aside. Bishop's meat leapt out like a beloved predator, threatening and enticing at the same time. The captain sat down in his chair and leaned back, spreading his legs as he greased up his pole with his left hand.
"Turn around and look at your fellows, slave Speed. I want them all to watch your face as you slide down my cock and give yourself the hottest fuck of the last 10,000 hours," Bishop said.
Facing the eleven other pec slaves, Speed nestled himself between the captain's spread thighs. Reaching down, Speed grabbed hold of the thick shaft and held it steady as he lowered his by now well-fucked cunt towards his doom. The other pec slaves' faces betrayed their conflicting emotions: disgust, fear, embarrassment, and lustful anticipation. (Thanks, Feral.) Speed relaxed his sphincter and felt the lubed-up head of Bishop's fat cock tease the muscle for only a moment before the redhead slab of enslaved muscle followed his orders and anally swallowed Bishop's length. The hard dick entered him, penetrated him, and buried itself deep inside his guts.
"Arrruurrrghhhh!" Speed moaned as he wriggled around on the fat manhood.
"What're you waiting for, slave Speed?" Bishop demanded. "I told you to ride that cock, to fuck yourself like a whore who's behind on his quota, so get to work!"
Tears coursed down Speed's face, and he proceeded to bounce up and down on Bishop's ramrod. His own cock, again at full chub, leaked a constant stream of clear precum that got whipped this way and that as the pink-white shaft swayed with the violence of the fucking.
"Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!" Speed gurgled, his head rocking back and forth as he fucked himself.
"Good slave," Bishop crooned. "I love the feel of your tight cunt gripping my meat. I know you remember that I told you I wouldn't fuck you. Surprise! I never said a word about having you fucking yourself. Oh yeah! Ride that dick, slave."
As Speed ground away on Bishop's shaft, the captain, true to his word, kept himself from forcing his cock on the slave (much as he wanted to). Instead he toyed with the slave's magnificent body, trying to inspire the man to fuck himself harder. The captain reached around the torso and began to stroke Speed's muscular body, starting with his pectoral slabs and ending by making a circle of fingers the corona of the slave's cockhead with his fingers. As the captain jacked off Speed's weeping chub, the pec slave, now a whimpering mass of flesh, voluntary surrendered to every one of Bishop's advances. He had to. He had to cum!
"Please, master captain Bishop, sir!" Speed whimpered over the squelching sounds of their intense anal congress, "I need to get off! Please, master captain, please! Be kind to your slave and suck my tits!"
Bishop, pleased at the submissive whine in Speed's voice, slapped him on the bouncing ass.
"Off," he ordered, and when Speed stood facing him again, Bishop gestured. "Now climb up here and fuck yourself while facing me."
The look of hope fled Speed's face. More fucking? Not that he had any choice. He clambered up onto the captain's chair, and sat, once more, on Bishop's cock. Slimy with Speed's ass juices, the shaft slid easily home, and the redhead slave resumed his bouncing grinding self-breeding.
"Oh fuck, master captain! Oh fuck, it's so...! Oh fuck! Fuck! I've got to cum! Please!!!"
Frantic submission was etched into Speed's Irish face and indeed into every straining muscle. At length Bishop, magnanimously, relented. His pec slave had suffered long enough, and better yet had given all his fellow slaves an abject lesson in total submission. Bending at the waist, Bishop leaned up and applied his lips and tongue and teeth to the pec slave's pink nipples. Working at his ease, but not Speed's, Bishop teased his pec slave for as long as he could, but at length the tidal wave of orgasm building up in Speed's nuts burst forth, whitewashing Bishop's belly and chest with Terran sperm. Speed started to fall forward, but Pork and Beef were at hand to pull him back and deposit his heaving body on his knees on the floor at Bishop's feet.
Bishop looked down at the streaks of rich sperm that soiled his body the same way similar loads had soiled Speed's body during training. The pec slave's load should be put to good use, Bishop decided.
"Slave Beach, slave Freak, slave Maple, get your asses up here and lick my body clean of your fellow pec slave's sperm."
The three slaves rushed forward and fought over who had the best right to lick up which rope of sex-scum. As they did, Speed cringed internally at the realization of what had just happened. He was a virgin no longer, in the sense that he had clearly given his ass to the muscular colonial.
"Slave Monkey, lick that pec slave's cock clean."
I did it,' Speed told himself as Monkey's tongue ran over his formerly private flesh. I made myself a mockery of a man, just to get Bishop to bring me off. Oh fuck, and I'll do it again the next time any of them tells me to do it.' The tears were real. `And I won't resist because my balls just keep on churning out jizz and desire and need.'
The clean-up crew had moved to Bishop's slick and slimy cock and balls. As they did Speed could only stare at their three shafts bobbling just above him.
`I hope PEC never rescues us,' Speed thought, but whether he thought this because he couldn't stand the humiliation of standing before the corps as a confirmed ass-whore, or because he really wanted to serve his new masters for the rest of his days even he couldn't say.
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Possible cast:
Colonials:
Pork, Drake Maverick (WWE); Beef, Brad Mattox (WWE); Bishop, Triple H (WWE); Angel, Angel Garza (WWE); Limerick, Shima Xion (wrestler); Acid, Trent Acid (wrestler); Castor and Pollux, the Riegel Twins (Logan and Sterling) wrestlers
Terrans:
Speed, Sheamus (WWE) ; Feral, Finn Balor (WWE) ; Polo, Apollo Crews (WWE) ; Beast, Urijah Faber (MMA) ; Dutch, Dolph Zigler (WWE) ; Moe, Mustapha Ali (WWE)
Stable slaves (mostly wrestlers): Beach, Kerry von Erich ; Dar, Naom Dar ; Freak, Rob Terry ; Frog, Eddie Guerrero ; Maple, Petey Williams ; Monkey, Vikas Kumar ; Pitbull, Will Ferrara ; Rex, Tyler Reks ; Sable, Seth Rollins ; Java, Osteen Brown