PECs Chapter five: Oh, Feral 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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At the end of two hundred and five hours (Pork lost his bet) Bishop used the ship's internal feed to check on his pec slave trainee, Speed. (Feral had broken tens of hours ago.) The muscular redhead lay limply on his table, dripping with sweat and cum, whispering to the empty air, "Suck me. Suck those nips. Yeah. Make me cum again. Please."
"He's finally broken, men," Bishop said to Pork and Beef in the officers' lounge. "The machine has done all it can do. Now it's up to us to fine tune the conversion."
The crewmen looked up from where their own kneeling pec slaves, Dutch and Moe, were busy sucking away on their colonial masters' cocks.
"Time to move on to the next phase. Pork, bring slave Feral to the Academy, and, Beef, I want you to get slave Speed cleaned up and brought there as well. They need to see that they've both been broken and reduced. Only then will we show them that they're not the only."
The crewmen nodded, and, leaving their despondent, suck-weary pec slaves behind, they headed down to the Training Suite. Meanwhile, Beast, kneeling impaled on his place-dildo let a tear slide down his cheek.
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Speed wearily turned his head as the door to his sex torture and brainwashing chamber opened. Saliva drooled from the redhead's open mouth as he watched the hunky Beef, backed up by a decury of slobgoblins, approach his table.
"Su.. ma.. tidz," the redhead croaked.
"Oh my, oh my," Beef said as he took in the former PEC's filthy body. A base coat of sweat, yeah, he'd expected that, and drool, and snot. He'd even expected to find the magnificent body crusted with more than a hundred hours of cum loads, but Speed had fired off a couple of broadsides of such force that they'd landed on his red-bearded face. Impressive.
"Someone's been busy," the crewman observed.
"Bih..." Speed whispered, but what he meant to say even he didn't know.
"Yes," Beef told him, "Bishop sent me to bring you to him—but not in this state. Slobgoblins, release the slave and take him to the cleaner."
Some deep corner of Speed's mind the last vestiges of the space warrior screamed out for him to fight the alien cyborgs when they took hold of him. Or at least to try to escape. Physically, though, he was simply too drained. Furthermore, it HAD been a master's order that he be washed, and you obeyed a master's orders if you ever wanted to cum again. Speed's weak legs, however, refused to support him and the new slave again fell to his knees. Pathetically, he stared up at the hunky crewman and his cadre of cyborgs.
"No, slave Speed," Beef said, laughing at the kneeling man, "Not that; not yet. First you need to be made presentable, and then you need to be taken to see the Captain. Then and only then will you be allowed to demean yourself by falling to your knees before your masters."
Demean himself. There it was, and Speed knew that whatever he was told to do, he would—following the order to the letter. And he had a sinking feeling he knew what orders he'd be given.
The feel of water on Speed's skin almost made him cum again—except that something important was missing. Nobody and nothing was sucking on his tits. Then and only then could his overloaded balls empty themselves. The cascading water still felt fucking amazing on his skin, though. One team of slobgoblins scrubbed the slime and filth of long hours of training off Speed's body, revitalizing him, and then another stepped up and spread a white cream of some sort over his muscles, and even in his body's nooks and crannies.
`It's a shaving cream. They're going to shave me,' Speed thought, and that didn't surprise him as much as it might have a civilian. PECs routinely shaved their bodies to get rid of hair that might otherwise gum up the works when they pulled their battle armor on. This would just be more business as usual.
The slobgoblins produced no razors to shave him with, however. Instead they waited a few minutes and pushed Speed back under the shower. The cream and every last follicle of hair on his body below the neck were sluiced away and disappeared down the drain, leaving behind a redheaded pec slave whose muscles were smooth as a baby's bottom. Indifferent cyborg hands toweled Speed dry then, and the slave stud turned to find Beef holding out a pair of black easy-access briefs like those he'd seen Bishop's other pec slaves wearing.
"Black?" Speed asked as he pulled the briefs on, making sure to adjust his junk so it would hang provocatively out of the hole in front.
"Black for the clan," Beef said as he made sure the slave's body was presentable and that his tube-steak and nuts showed to best advantage. "The rocket is named for the clan color too, the Black Hunter. Pec slaves on the White Hunter wear white briefs, and on the Red Hunter they wear red briefs."
He turned Speed around and made sure his ass showed to best advantage.
Speed had wondered, and now he knew for sure that his brother warriors had been and were being hunted by these colonials. He and Feral weren't the first to be captured and reprogrammed, but he had no idea how many PEC warriors might already have gone down this route to enslavement.
"Black, White, Red..." Speed said.
"Yellow, Green, Blue, Brown," Beef finished. "Seven battle rockets to guard the state against alien and (more likely) Terran incursion. And thanks to the Ancients' technology that we found on Colonia Prima, seven are all we need."
Beef cupped Speed's balls and said, "And just to satisfy your curiosity, crewmen's trunks are tight, but closed, and we wear boots. The perks of being free men. You pec slaves need your briefs to be easy access because you will be accessed. Often."
"Accessed?" Speed said.
"I think you can figure that one out, but if not you will fairly soon," Beef said.
Then the crewman pulled out the crowning touch. He fastened a collar of black metal embossed with Speed's name (in the pre-revision script used on Colonia Prima) and a number "14" about his neck.
Fourteen,' Speed thought, Times seven... ninety-eight PECs more or less, probably all now pec slaves. Fuck.'
"There. Now you look like a proper pec slave, slave Speed," Beef said as he ran a hand down the redhead's hairless chest and belly and cupped the dangling sex again. "Bishop will be pleased. Now, follow me to our Academy... unless you'd rather the slobgoblins drug you."
"No, Master Beef," Speed said. "I'll walk."
Speed was guessing at what the right words should be, but Beef seemed to approve of these. (Thank the Powers, since Speed's cock was starting to plump up again, and the new pec slave knew his only hope for relief might lie in pleasing this colonial.)
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The march to the Academy passed in a hormone-induced haze, but in a short time, Speed once again stood before the colonial captain.
Bishop's chair was flanked by the four pec slaves Speed had seen earlier, two to a side. On one side of the chamber, though, ten more pec slaves knelt, their half-hard cocks jutting out of black easy access briefs. All the kneeling slaves, however, were fixated on the sight of the Captain sucking away at Feral's chest. And Speed now understood why.
The former warrior, Speed's buddy, naked but for his slave's briefs, stood free of restraint, legs spread and arms akimbo, his head thrown back, moaning as he gave suck.
"Are you enjoying this, slave Feral?" Bishop asked. He had let the pert nipple fall from his mouth, and instead he pinched the throbbing protuberance.
"Oh yes, master captain Bishop! Thank you, sir!" Feral gasped. His cock leapt, and Speed could see how his friend was leaking precum almost like a faucet.
"Would you like to please me?"
"Yes, master captain. I'll do anything!"
"Excellent," Bishop said, and he motioned for Speed to step forward.
When the two new pec slaves stood side by side Bishop said, "Slave Feral, I want you to fuck slave Speed up the ass. Now."
Feral didn't even hesitate. He stepped behind Speed and slid his slime-slick cockhead up against his friend's pucker. Once upon a time, Speed would have protested. He might still have, but Bishop had taken the redhead's nipples between his fingers and was gently squeezing them, distracting him from his impending anal violation.
"Ah," Speed said as his body recognized the prompt of the nipple play, and then "AH!" as Feral forced a hard pec slave dick up his virgin chute.
"Fuck!" Speed howled as Feral began to pump. Speed had once or twice taken a dame up the ass, so he knew the mechanics involved. At least from the giving side. The pain was a novelty, to tell the truth, but Speed knew pain. And after all, Bishop had ordered that he be fucked, so he grit his teeth and brave-faced his way through it.
"Keep fucking him until I tell you to stop, slave Feral," the black-trunked captain said, "And as for you..."
Bishop took the moaning Speed's right nipple between his lips and began to suckle.
"Fuck!"
Speed's humiliation must be, he thought, now complete. (He was wrong.) The redhead swayed between the twin demands being made on his body. Feral's cock opening his virgin ass and Bishop's lip, teeth, and tongue teasing his nipples were combining forces in cementing his slave status. Then, as the cock in his ass found more sensitive spots to torment, Speed could feel the two sensations draw closer and closer until they merged. Humiliation and satisfaction became one in his fragile psyche.
Pork and Beef took advantage of the occasion to get back to face-fucking their personal pec slaves. Diminutive Pork screwed bigger Dutch's oral cavity languidly while Beef tried to see how far Moe could swallow his shaft before gagging. Poor Polo and Beast (not to mention the pec slaves in the peanut gallery) had no option but to kneel, parked as they were on place dildoes, and stew.
"Slave Speed," Bishop asked as he pinched the redhead's erect nipples, "What are you?"
"I'm a slave, master captain Bishop," the redhead answered, his body rocking in time to Feral's more and more emphatic thrusts. "A pec slave."
"Mmmm?" Bishop had the left nipple in his mouth now. "And..."
"I only exist to give suck to my master and to obey his every command. Oh fuck!"
"Quite right. And it's time for you to prove it. This is my command to you, your first as a pec slave. Switch places with slave Feral and fuck your former partner's ass."
"Yes, master captain. Thank you, master captain!"
Speed was close, so close, to cumming that following the order was a torture. His hope of orgasm had to be backburnered, but he knew there was alternative to obeying Bishop's commands. The redhead eased off of Feral's not insignificant cock and pulled his smaller partner to the place he had been standing a moment before—within easy reach of Bishop's hands and mouth. Taking careful aim, the big redhead fed his larger cock up his partner's probably just as virgin ass.
"Aiyee!" Feral screamed. He had obviously not been as prepared as Speed had been, or maybe Speed hadn't generated as much natural lube.
"Fuck him, slave Speed. Fuck him, and fuck him hard," Bishop ordered.
"Relax, Feral," Speed whispered to his whimpering buddy. "It'll hurt less."
Speed had conveniently forgotten Bishop's promise made many hours ago, that he and Feral would not be turned poof. But even if he was fucking Feral, Speed knew that at heart he was still straight arrow. Given a choice, Speed would prefer to fuck a dame, but he was a slave, and that meant that choice was officially off his menu. He had no choice but to follow his orders, orders to rape Feral's guts. As Speed dutifully fucked his buddy's butt, Bishop availed himself of the delights Feral's pectoral expanse.
"Fuck!" Feral cried. "Fuck, no, suck, no, fuck... YES!"
Bishop grinned. Man-sex and cumming had become intrinsically intertwined for this formerly mouthy captive, and the slave Feral had become didn't know whether to shit or go blind. Perhaps it was time to raise the stakes.
"Slave Feral, bend over."
Feral did, all but touching his toes, and Bishop leaned over his rocking body to suckle at Speed's tits as the redhead kept on plowing his buddy's cunt.
"Oh, master captain, sir!" Speed cried. His tits were still tender from tens of hours of training, and his balls were eagerly waiting for the least excuse to unload. Bishop's sucking proved to be just too much. Inevitability ran up the redhead's urethra, and Speed howled.
"Feral! Oh fuck! I'm cumming!" Speed yelled, and his cock pulsed leaving a deposit of proud Irish cream deep in his buddy's man-pussy, seeding him for the first time.
"Cream me, Speed!" Feral cried as his guts filled. "Fuck that hot cum around inside me!"
"Dirty pigs," Bishop laughed as Speed continued to churn the man-butter now coating his buddy's guts. (He'd not been told to stop.)
The captain came to his feet, rubbing at the distended pouch of his trunks, and said, "Now stand up, slave Feral. Present your chest to me. I want to get at your sweet tits again."
Once more, Feral gave suck to the colonial. Speed, instead of continuing to fuck his partner, followed a gesture from Beef. It appeared it was finally time for him to kneel and debase himself orally. On his own initiative, the former warrior took Feral's cock into his mouth and started sucking its rigid length. Perhaps Speed could have just knelt there and watched the mesmerizing bobbing of Feral's piece, but the idea never occurred to him. He was there; Feral's dick was there; and his mouth was free. Sucking cock was what had to happen. Bishop once more worked sweet torture on Feral's tits, teasing the pec slave and keeping him just below the edge of orgasm so as to drag out Speed's humiliation in sucking another man's cock. Despite the captain's skill in the art of suck torture, though, he eventually felt Feral ramping up to blow his load.
"Pull out of that mouth, slave Feral," Bishop said. "I want you to cum on slave Speed's face and leave him decorated with your hot pec slave load."
Feral pulled out of Speed's throat just in time for his shaft to unload hot jizz all over the redhead's face. A deluge of white man-cream covered Speed's cheeks and forehead, and even more cum dappled his beard.
Bishop looked down at the scum-faced ginger pec slave and said, "Good, but you need more cum on your face, slave Speed. Slave Feral, you have some more hot cum in your oven, don't you?"
Feral looked confused for a moment, but then he got it.
Straddling his naked buddy, Feral relaxed his sphincter and shat Speed's sperm out onto his face.
"Mmmh," Speed groaned. Part of him wanted to swallow the spermy mess, but instead he did his level best to keep the two loads out of his mouth.
"Now, slave Feral, kneel, and both you pec slaves lick each other clean."
Feral licked the sex slime off Speed's face, and they shared it messily back and forth. It was the first time either had tasted another man's load, and they sobbed as their humiliation was drive home. Cum-eaters. They were both cum-eaters now. Bishop had kept part of his promise, technically. They weren't poof sex-slaves, so no brothel with them begging to be fucked loomed in their future. And neither the colonial captain nor his crewmen had forced sex on them. Still, the need to cum would now dominate their waking hours, and in order to earn the release of orgasm acts of demeaning man-sex would be required. Whatever-- taking cock and cum in one hole or another was going to be the anchor of their lives from this day forward.
`How the mighty fall,' Speed thought as his cock chubbed once again, and he looked up at the captain.
Bishop stood there, rubbing the bulge distending his trunks.
"Slaves," Bishop said as he pulled down the waistband of his trunks, "Suck my cock."
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Possible cast:
Colonials:
Bishop, Triple H (WWE) ; Pork, Drake Maverick (WWE) ; Beef, Brad Mattox (WWE)
Terrans:
Speed, Sheamus (WWE) ; Feral, Finn Balor (WWE) ; Polo, Apollo Crews (WWE) ; Beast, Urijah Faber (MMA) ; Dutch, Dolph Zigler (WWE) ; Moe, Mustapha Ali (WWE)