Date: Sat, 25 Mar 2017 11:39:13 -0400 From: CreepingDawn Subject: Ant King Chapter 8 Warning: This story is unsuitable for minors and contains explicit descriptions of sexual activity considered taboo (and illegal) in most (if not all) jurisdictions. If such activity offends you, please DO NOT read any further. I do not condone any illegal activity and stress that this work is fiction, fantasy, and in no way meant to reflect reality. Sexual abuse of minors is a very serious issue and I encourage anyone tempted to engage in such behavior to seek help immediately. Title: Ant King Last Updated: 3/25/17 Dear Reader: Thank you for taking the time to read my work. If you wish to drop me a line, feel free. My email address is (CreepingDawn@protonmail.com) and I look forward to hearing from you. Additionally, the good folks at Nifty give us a creative outlet that we should value a great deal. As such, please consider donating to http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html so that we can continue to have access to this wonderful space. Without further ado... Chapter 8 To say that I was stunned would be the understatement of the year. I was speechless. Flabbergasted. Completely and utterly in a state of shock so deep, I think at least a minute passed before any coherent thoughts formed within my brain. What... The... Hell... William sauntered over with his ice-cream and the rest of the boys continued to tease, goof off, and chatter about whatever as he sat and joined the fray. None, it appeared, seemed concerned. I swallowed, feeling my throat suddenly dry, before I took another sip from my soft drink and began to ponder this new revelation. My instincts, which had not let me down so far, seemed to be pulling me towards some insights. Before I let them, though, I needed to be sure. I sent a very direct mental command to William and his head swiveled to look me in the eye. He nodded, once, and stood. Taking a step from the table, he casually reached out and touched the back of the neck of a nearby old man who seemed to be enjoying a bit of pizza with his equally elderly wife. As their skin connected, Mr. Ken Nakamura became my newest drone. I frowned. Sending the same order to the boy who had been sitting next to Will resulted in nothing happening, other than the woman whose arm he touched giving him a funny look before walking away. So Will had the power but Jacob did not? I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I let my mind wander internally as I felt for my various drones. They were there, in the darkness. All of them. Picturing myself as a spider, I sought out the strands that connected me to each person within the colony and discovered, much to my delight, that I could actually see the silver lines expanding outward and I knew, immediately, who each strand belonged to. I'd never done this before, having never felt the need, but the beauty of my connection to the drones stole my breath. The silver sparkled in my mind's eye. Then I realized not every strand was silver. Most were. Others, like the one connected to Ben here in D.C. as well as the one connected to Chase whose flight was high above the mountains of Colorado, sparkled a golden honey color in the ephemeral light. And there was a purple one, muted and stained with a grayish glow. It connected me to William. "Alright everyone. Time to get going," said the principle as he began to urge the students and chaperones up and toward the exit. Many began to text groups that were wandering around the mall and my own phone buzzed with a text instructing everyone to head towards the buses. I sighed, much more interested in this newest discovery than the rest of the sight seeing tour. As the afternoon progressed, I wandered from place to place lost in my own mind and investigating the various strands. Several things became clear rather immediately, though their ramifications still alluded me. First, the strand connecting me to William was slowly losing it's purple color and rapidly settling into the same silvery-gray that I saw on most ofter strands. By the time we were all eating dinner, it was almost indistinguishable from the other silver strands and had only the slightest purple haze hovering about it. Second, every gold strand belonged to a boy I had fucked. Ben and Chase, Chester and the boys around Cheyenne, Marc in Phoenix and Liam in Los Angeles. Every boy whose pussy I had plundered had a gold strand and none of them seemed to be diminishing in color, shade, or hue. It was a conundrum I couldn't seem to unravel. Dinner was as quick an affair as I could make it and all of the boys got ready for bed in record time. No laughter. No roughhousing. No talking. I ordered them to prepare for bed as a military commander might order his troops to advance; unconcerned with how strict I appeared and only interested in the results. By 7:30pm, all of the boys were in the main room of our suite as I paced around them and pondered. I did not fail to notice that William's strand was now totally grey. "Will, you're with me. Lets go." The boy jumped up and followed me out the door, into an elevator, and into the lobby. I handed him $5 and told him to buy a candy bar at the hotel minimart and to ensure that he touched the cashier. He did as instructed and the man, dressed in the uniform of the hotel, did not become my drone. I scowled as we went back to the room. So grey strands don't do anything. I repeated the same operation with Ben, the boy being the only gold strand in the suite. Again, the man behind the desk did not become part of the colony. Gold, it seemed, didn't do anything either. I needed a purple strand but could not, for the life of me, figure out how William had become purple. I decided to tackle another suspicion before dwelling on that one. "Bryson," I said, smiling at a petite seventh grader who grinned back. The other boys sat back, awaiting a show. Bryson disrobed, his taut little body not completely banishing my swirling thoughts but certainly filling my head with other more pleasant intentions. Some eager rimming, some naughty fingers, a ton of lube, and ten minutes filled with boyish moans and grunts found me balls-deep inside the little angel as I began to fuck him eagerly. Though 90% of my mind was focused on the task at hand, 10% was watching his silver thread to see if anything changed. So far, nothing had. I sped up, pumping hard and fast as the boy writhed underneath me. Then he squealed and I felt his asshole clamp onto my cock, the boy's juvenile erupting between our stomachs as I let myself cum inside him. Though I could have denied myself release so as to prolong the fuck, I wanted release my load and see if it affected any change. Gold! Honey! Light! The thread between us was a brilliant sun blazing away the silver as my seed filled him and our voices melted into a chorus of pleasurable delight. Fucking a boy seemed to be the secret to alchemy. My Eldorado! "Fucking..." I said quietly to myself as the boys around us giggled and cheered while my cock slowly slid out of the sweaty boy beneath me. I sat back into a sofa, thinking. "Hmm..." Could fucking be the answer? Was there a connection. "Ben," I said, looking over to the boy. "Mike?" he said, smiling and compliant. "Can you tell me the names of every guy that has ever fucked you?" "Sure." I waited a few moments before sighing dramatically. Several of the boys chuckled. "Would you please tell me the names of the guys who have fucked you." The little shit grinned, his verbal dance hitting home. "You, Mike. And William." He glanced over at the eighth grader who smiled at him and winked dramatically. "When?" "Last night, when Chase was here." "Jacob," I said, turning to one of the eighth graders. "Please fuck Bryson." "Sure!" he said, stripping quickly. The boy's four inches were already hard and he slid home into the seventh grader a moment later, both moaning as he began to piston in and out of the younger boy. Their coupling lasted a few minutes but Jacob eventually gave a squeal of delight and climaxed. As I suspected, his thread immediately became a bright and vibrant purple. Bryson's member was still hard as a rock and I could tell the kid had almost cum during the fucking. "You should probably help him out, Jacob," I said as the older boy looked sheepishly at the young horny kid before him. Then he knelt and began to lap at Bryson's swollen member while he tickled the boy's hairless balls. Soon, Bryson was cumming. I wasn't paying attention. Well, I wasn't paying close attention. I was thinking. Silver must be default. I touch someone, they become a silver drone. Gold, it seemed, was created when I fucked one of my silver boys. Since Liam, my first boy from months ago, had the same golden color as Bryson, gold must be a permanent status for a drone. Purple happened when another boy fucked one of my golds and, if the slow greying of William's strand meant anything, was not a permanent status and seemed to last about a day. So what did that all mean... I dismissed the boys from the room with the instruction that they do whatever they wanted for the night. I needed to think. Most immediately began goofing off, whipping out their phones to play games and text and do whatever boys their age would do in a hotel during a school trip. I slipped back into my personal room, turning the shower on and soon relishing the hot water as it relaxed me. I had showered when we had gotten back to the hotel almost an hour earlier but the shower was a wonderful place to think and ponder. I was halfway through re-washing my hair when inspiration hit me like a ton of bricks. My mental commands reached out and orders flowed. Soon, Jacob and Timmy, a cute little sixth grader, came bounding into the bathroom. They stripped and joined me in the shower, the three of us fooling around for a minute before the lube Jacob had brought was worked into Timmy's elastic and eager boypussy. Then the large boy took him, slamming home and fucking Timmy as hard and as fast as he had fucked Bryson only a few minutes earlier. With the stamina of youth and accompanied by a chorus of grunts and groans from Timmy, Jacob rabbit-fucked while I rapidly wanked the youngster to his own dry boycum. The shuddering underneath Jacob sent the older boy over the edge and he spilled his second load of the night into his young partner. Timmy's thread blazed gold. ............. Exponential growth. The spread of cells. One to Two to Four to Sixteen to Two Hundred Fifty Six and on and on and on. In the short time I had possessed my powers, I had thought I could only add those I touched to my colony. I was wrong. ............ The next two days saw some serious experimentation and discovery. They are as follows: I discovered, as I had already known, that anyone I touched became a drone. Drones had silver strands. (Duh!) The strands of any drone I fucked became gold. Of note, I had to actually ejaculate during the copulation in order for them to turn as simply sliding my cock into their backsides was not enough to make silver into gold. I decided to call these particular drones "Honeypots" as 1) the color reminded me of honey and 2) because it just sounded dirty. I made many of my boys into "Honeypots" during that time but also discovered that adult males could not become Honeypots. A fifteen year old on a different floor became a Honeypot. His seventeen year old brother did not. [I later learned that a Honeypot would revert back to a drone sometime around their sixteenth birthday.] Any male who fucked a Honeypot would immediately have his strand turn purple. This purple lasted about twenty-four hours and gave that male the power to touch those not in my colony and turn them into my drones. The younger boys, the dry-cummers, did not have their strands turn purple when they fucked a Honeypot which meant that one had to ejaculate into a Honeypot to turn purple. Borrowing language from the middle ages, I decided to call the purples my Vassals. Additionally, I learned that a Vassal who fucked another drone (as the immediate touch by the Vassal would make that person a drone) and ejaculated inside their partner's asshole would turn their partner into a Honeypot. If I fuck A, B fucks A, then B fucks C, C and A would both be a Honeypot and B would be a Vassal for a day. Honeypots could be Vassals as well, I discovered quickly, and their strands were the most interesting combination of bright honey-gold and rich purple hues. A Vassal could keep "refreshing" their vassalhood just by fucking an available Honeypot. It might be of interest to know that subsequent experimentation over the years has revealed that nothing I or my Honeypots or my Vassals do has any effect on the fairer sex. Women, it seems, can only be drones. ......... I couldn't sleep. My mind was racing. So many thoughts swirled in my brain as the excitement and trepidation at my new discoveries made me feel as if I'd had ten cups of coffee. I was jittery. I was sweaty. I was anxious. Taking a deep breath, I got out of bed and began to pace. It was Friday, around 3am. The hotel room was dim and cool, the air conditioner feeling good on my overheated skin. The boys were all snug in their beds, the sexual marathon of the night long over. Nine of the boys were Honeypots, four having been bred by me within the last seven hours. We were scheduled for a tour of the Capitol building just after sunrise and I knew that everyone would be tired. I was tired. But the possibilities! Oh the possibilities! I had toyed with the idea over the summer of enlarging the colony to include the whole human race. My own version of Mikefest Destiny, I imagined humorously. But when I thought about it seriously, the logistical hurdles would be practically insurmountable. Sure, I could touch everyone in Cheyenne. Maybe even all of Wyoming. But Los Angeles? New York? And that was just the United States. With birth rates and the migration of people, it would be, I concluded, impossible. But now it wasn't. I could send a boy, who was a permanent Honeypot and a temporary Vassal, on a plane to Chicago or London or Beijing. He could touch everyone on that plane and have all the men he touched fuck him. When the plane landed, the new Vassals could swarm out into the city to touch any and all they could find. New boys would be made into drones and the men could breed those new boys, after a bit of careful preparation of course, creating new Honeypots that would in turn lead to more Vassals which would lead, again, to more Honeypots. Hundreds, then thousands, then millions would be added to the colony. Then billions. And the world could change. War would be a thing of the past. Hunger would be eliminated. The colony would grow and prosper and thrive with my guidance. It would be a new age for mankind.