Date: Sat, 27 Aug 2022 12:11:11 -0400
From: mr.evan.andrews@gmail.com
Subject: PECs chapter 2 -- science fiction of fantasy

PECs
Chapter two: Fine Tuning
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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As slobgoblins drug the two new PECs away to the Training Suite, on the
bridge of the Black Hunter the pec slaves Polo and Beast knelt submissively
before their seated master and began to use their mouths to worship the
frighteningly prominent bulge in Bishop's trunks. Bishop, for his part,
purred and absently stroked their hair.

"Good pec slaves," he murmured, "Lick that meat."

The slaves were still mouthing and sucking at the captain's sex when Pork
and Beef returned.

"Are the new slaves comfortable?" Bishop asked.

"No," Pork said, "Not even remotely. And they won't be for a hundred
hours."

"At least," Beef said. "I think the redhead will take closer to two
hundred."

"Says you, but they seemed happy having their nipples sucked when we
attached the suckers to their chests," Pork continued, ignoring his
crewmate.

As the crewman made their report, Beast and Polo intensified their worship,
and the butt-plugged pec slaves, Dutch and Moe, moaned. They each
remembered the sweet torture of the Procedure. Ten hours or ten thousand,
even a minute was an unbearable eternity of rapturous agony.

"Well then," Bishop said, smiling at his slaves' reactions, "That means we
have time to work on fine tuning _your_ pec slaves, but first... Polo,
Beast, leave off for now, and you, Dutch and Moe, get to your feet."

The pec slaves on the floor rose and came to slave display position in
front of their master, hands joined behind the small of their backs and
chests thrust forward. Their nipples were as stiff as their cocks.

"Polo," Bishop said, "Pull Dutch's tail-plug out and instead ram that big
black dick of yours up his ass."

"Please, master," Dutch whined, "I'm..." but then he cried out "Argh!"

Polo's heavy black shaft had broached Dutch's hole.

"Argh! He's tearing me apart!" Dutch cried until Bishop slapped his face.

"Take it, slave," the captain said. "Take it without complaint because I
ordered it. Slave Polo, what are you waiting for? Start fucking him."

With a callous disregard for the pain he would be causing his brother
warrior and fellow slave, the black stud forced his shaft all the way up
the blond's ass and began to fuck him-- hard. Bishop watched as the blond
pec slave's face went from a mask of pain, to one of torture stoically
endured, and finally to one of ecstasy in a matter of few minutes. The Id
Tap was working a treat on the blond pec slave's mind and body. When Bishop
judged the time was right, he leaned in and attached his lips to the
blond's left nipple.

"Ahhhhhhh!" Dutch groaned in excited humiliation.

"Pork," Bishop mumbled around his suckling, "This slave's yours so get in
here and go to town on his other tit."

Pork, all 5 foot 4 of him, joined his captain, and together the two
colonials orally worked over the gasping slave's nipples with a vengeance.

"Please, Master Bishop!" Dutch cried. "Please suck my tits! Please, make me
cum!"

"Pork, what do you say?" the captain asked.

"I say he's begging the wrong master."

"True, he is, and his Vril is so sweet. I don't see any reason for us to
stop yet."

Dutch was on the brink. He was ready to blast at any second. Ready to piss
himself. Ready to lose his shit. Frustrated tears ran from his eyes at
almost the same volume as precum did from his cock. He was a fool; he knew
he should have begged Pork, even if Bishop was in the room.

"Please! Please!" Dutch sobbed, his body still rocking in time to Polo's
thrusts, "Master—Master Pork! Please have mercy on your worthless
slave."

"Worthless?" Pork said. "No, you, my pec slave, will never be worthless so
long as your betters can suckle at these magnificent tits." He sucked some
more and then said, "Oh, alright, I suppose you can go ahead and shoot."

The little crewman pinched Dutch's nipple hard (while Bishop kept sucking)
and...

"Oh, fuck!" Dutch screamed, and suddenly he was cumming like Speed and
Feral had not an hour earlier.

His cock leapt and fired, and fired some more and jerked about wildly until
the mighty organ could produce nothing more than pathetic driblets. Spent,
the blond fell forward, off of Polo's shaft and into Pork's arms, sobbing
with demeaning gratitude. Without being told to, Polo (who of course had
not been allowed to cum) knelt to lick the floor clean of his fellow
slave's sperm. As he did so Bishop motioned Moe forward.

"Slave Beast," the captain said, "I think you know what to do with this pec
slave."

The south Asian's tail butt-plug was extracted and tossed aside, and Beast
used his rod to force his fellow slave's asshole open. As he bred Moe's
cunt, Bishop and Beef nipple-sucked the beautiful dark slave until he too
became a quivering mockery of everything PEC had instilled into him, a
pathetic hulk begging for permission to let loose his balls' heavy
load. Beef was a sterner master than Pork, and he kept the dark-skinned pec
slave stewing for another quarter of an hour.

"Slave Moe, you now have your master's permission to cum." Beef said at
last.

Moe cried out in ecstatic agony as his cock spat white gold, and as he and
Beast licked the floor clean of his seed, Bishop asked his subordinates,
"Has the Vril done you well? Do you men feel refreshed?"

"Sir. Yes sir!" Pork and Beef cried.

"Good, then, Pork, you have the bridge. Beef, relieve him in five hours,
and com me in my quarters in ten hours. Pec slaves, all of you follow me."

Trailed by the four sweaty pec slaves, Bishop left the bridge and retired
to the captain's quarters.

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Bishop's quarters were opulent, especially when compared to the quarters on
a PEC scout ship (or even a full Terran battle rocket), and the whole was
dominated by a large round bed, headed by something resembling a papasan
chair.

"Slave Dutch, slave Moe, back into your cages and make use of the dildos
mounted there to better prepare your holes. You both of you clearly could
clearly benefit from more cock up your asses."

The two crewmen's pec slaves crawled across the floor on all fours and
backed into man-sized cages on either side of the bed. They pressed their
butts up against the dildoes mounted dog-fucking high in the far wall of
the cage, and, once those had filled them, they rocked on the silicon
ass-stretchers while Bishop turned to the other two slaves. Polo and Beast
stood by in anticipation as Bishop sat on the edge of the bed.

"Slaves, get my boots off."

The two pec slaves knelt and applied themselves to the task of unlacing and
pulling off their master's boots and socks. Bishop wriggled his toes (those
boots were tight) and got to his feet. Beast and Polo knee-crawled up to
face their master as he slid his fingers under the waistband of his trunks
and pulled them down.

The pec slaves all but drooled as Bishop's tool mesmerized them. The
captain swiveled his hips seductively, smiling at the way his slaves' eyes
followed the bobbing magic wand. Then, after kicking his trunks away, he
fell back onto the bed and scooted backwards until he hit the papasan
headboard. There he assumed a sitting position and spread his legs wide,
all the while stroking his alluring erection.

"Slave Beast, slave Polo. Get up here and suck my dick."

Bishop grinned as he watched the pec slaves, black and white, crawl onto
the bed and creep towards his shaft. Broken though they were, the captain
could still see that his obviously straight slaves still found sucking dick
a humiliating exercise. Good. It was meant to be. Though the Id Taps, now
fully integrated into their brains, had rewired crucial neurons. The Vril,
the vital masculine essence now surging through their bodies, pushed them
to seek release, which could only be achieved from their master sucking (or
otherwise stimulating) their nipples. To earn the right to give suck, the
pec slaves would do anything -- no matter how wrong, no matter how
demeaning, no matter how humiliating. They simply knew they had to please
their masters into order to cum.

Smiling, Bishop watched as the pair of pec slaves worked over his shaft,
hoping they would so please him that he would allow them release. The two
macho-men sucked desperately, sharing Bishop's dripping shaft until at last
the captain decided to give them a different kind of reward. Grabbing his
slaves' heads, he pressed them close together as his cock leapt, scumming
their faces with his spurting seed.

"Ah!" Bishop sighed. "Now, lick me and then yourselves clean and grab some
sleep. I'm in a good mood, so I'll even let you stay in the bed with me
instead of making you sleep on the floor."

As Bishop slid into dreamland, the sobbing and still painfully erect Beast
and Polo, after licking up every trace of their master's cum, pressed up
against the captain's mighty thighs. They fell into a light sleep, ready to
wake and spring into action in the event Bishop woke in the night and
wanted his cock sucked again. Perhaps if he did, and if they were really
good, then this time...

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Meanwhile in another part of the ship Speed and Feral were learning the
true meaning of hell, courtesy of their Id Taps and the insidious training
apparatus.


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Possible cast: mostly wrestlers, sorry. Bishop, Triple H (WWE); Polo,
Apollo Crews (WWE); Beast, Urijah Faber (MMA); Dutch, Dolph Zigler (WWE);
Moe, Mustapha Ali (WWE); Pork, Drake Maverick (WWE); Beef, Brad Mattox
(WWE)