Date: Sat, 3 Sep 2022 18:55:59 -0400
From: mr.evan.andrews@gmail.com
Subject: PECs chapter 3 -- science fiction of fantasy

PECs
Chapter three: Brothers in Agony
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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Lying lazily back in his bed, Bishop, captain of the Black Hunter, watched
the ceiling screen show images from the surveillance cam in the Training
Suite. A spotlight fixed on the two magnificently naked men who lay in the
middle of darkness. Bishop's latest captives, Speed and Feral, warriors of
Earth's Periphery Exploration Command, had been restrained on padded
examination tables, their ankles, thighs, wrists, waists, chests, and necks
strapped firmly in place. They writhed in delicious agony courtesy of the
training device-- as they had for the last ten hours of ship's night. While
his prize pair moaned and twisted in their restraints, tubes fed necessary
fluids and nutrients into their veins while the high-tech nipple suckers
pursued their wicked end. Bishop deplored the waste of so much of the
specimens' Vril, but he knew it was necessary if they were to be
successfully broken to their new status. Warrior to slave was a big leap.

"Ah! Oh! Ugh!" the two slave trainees groaned in erotic counterpoint.

While their tits got worked over, neither Speed nor Feral could do anything
but endure. Or rather, endure and cum. Occasionally, the stimulation pushed
one man or the other to a level where his cock simply had no option but to
let loose a barrage of churching ball juice. The violent release reinforced
the overall lesson. Submit, give suck, and cum.

And speaking of release... Bishop zoomed in on the redheaded
slave-in-training who was clearly close to achieving paradise once again.

"Argh!" Speed cried as his cock shot ropes of cum up onto his belly and
chest—which were already striped with blasts from previous orgasms.

"Excellent," Bishop said, "I suppose I should pay my boys a visit in the
flesh, but first I need to make sure I'm looking my best and most
intimidating. A shower, I think, is in order. Slave Polo, slave Beast, come
along and wash me."

@@@@@@

After his shower (during which he had made both his pec slaves impale
themselves on and ride his meat), Bishop nonchalantly sauntered into the
Training Suite and watched his new acquisitions being tit sucked into the
rolling boil of lust that would be an essential part of their new
lives. (Bishop's own well-rodded and desperately erect pec slaves he had
left chained to the foot of the big bed by their collars.)

Speed could only stare blankly as Bishop stepped out of the dark and came
to stand between his two captives. The colonial captain's evil, knowing
smile did not bode well, Speed thought, but then the man did something
entirely unexpected. He turned off (but did not remove) the tit sucking
devices.

As the Terrans slowly came back to earth after their first round of
`reeducation', Bishop took in the number of times the tit-sucker had
brought his slave trainees to orgasm. It was impressive how many times the
PECs had managed to blow their loads in eleven hours. Thanks to the Id Taps
and the tit-suckers, the naked men's bellies and chests were striped with
ropes of cum.

Bishop scooped up some of the sex juice from Speed's belly and held the
slimy fingers to the redhead's lips.

"Lick my fingers free of your sperm, Speed," Bishop said simply.

Speed was revolted at the very concept, but, he told himself as he
contemplated the possibly awful outcomes of defying the colonial, at least
it was his own sperm, something the PEC had to admit he had tasted before.

"Come on. Come on," Bishop said.

Speed reached out with his tongue and licked the sex goo away.

"Very good," Bishop said, "Let's see if Feral has learned as well."

Feral pleased the captain by licking Bishop's slimy fingers clean without
hesitation. The captain was thunderstruck, however, that the very second
the formerly mouthy PEC tasted his own seed his cock leapt again and fired
off yet another rich load.

"Hah! Hah! Hah!" Feral gasped as his prick spat wad after wad of white
gold.

Once his orgasm was finished, Feral then went a step further. Bishop had
not yet pulled his fingers away, and the PEC leaned forward and took the
digits into his mouth, sucking to get all the taste of sperm off of them.

"Well, that's promising," Bishop laughed to the sex-addled brunet, "I'm
glad to see you both so well advanced in your lessons. A few more hours and
you'll be prime pec slaves."

"More?!" Speed cried in distress. (Feral, on the other hand, though he
looked exhausted, showed on his face he was ready to undergo more tit
sucking if it gave him orgasms like the one he'd just had.)

"Of course more, Speed," Bishop consoled the restrained warrior. "Most
slaves start with a hundred hours of the Procedure. You've only had ten or
so. You need, you see, to have it drilled home (or should I say sucked?)
that your heroic warrior days are behind you now. By the end of training,
you'll both be true pec slaves, concerned with nothing more than how the
Vril leaking from your nipples could sustain your masters, and with what
humiliations you can endure to convince them to let you give suck so you
can nut. I think you'll be amused by some of the demeaning scenarios we
colonials can devise."

That said, Bishop reached down and cupped the trainee slaves' churning
balls.

"Oh!" Speed screamed as his nuts leapt in their sack. He didn't cum,
though. He wanted to, but he just couldn't.

"Argh," Feral added. The mouthy PEC's body also tried for another orgasm,
but it was far too soon for that. His balls had reached their limit-- for
now. His shaft leapt up and down, but no seed escaped. The degraded
warrior's eyes streamed tears of frustration.

"You really are a bastard," Speed said in a voice hoarse from screaming.

"Actually, bastardy is impossible under the generative practices of the
State, and, frankly, my genetic lineage is nothing to be ashamed of,"
Bishop smirked, "But I must say that you're being exceptionally
confrontational for a person we caught sneaking into the State's contracted
space in your sad little rocket. I assume you came to snoop about, and the
way I read the law, that makes you spies. Especially since we both know
that you came in order to assess how prepared we might be to fend off an
invasion by your expansionist empire. You should really purge your data
banks when you're captured."

Speed could only stare. He hated being branded a spy, but Bishop was
right. Though their official mission was to ascertain what might have
happened to a missing PEC rocket, they had also been told to keep their
eyes open for anything "interesting"—which included the current
defensive state of the colony seeded in this region, assuming it had
survived.

"Do they teach history at the PEC academy, Speed?" Bishop asked. "Did they
ever tell you how, under old Earth law, spies were punished with extreme
prejudice? Probably not. If they had, you would have known that something
bad would happen to you in the event you were captured. And by something, I
don't mean the Prince giving you the key to Crown City. Or the People
rising up to throw you a ticker tape parade. Or our, rather picky, women
throwing themselves at your feet."

"I..." and Speed stopped. He'd heard some of those very ideas batted about
between warriors back at base in regard to lost colonies, but how could
Bishop...?

"So, you see what I mean. Well, just to things into proper perspective, I
should tell you that you and Feral here were blasted lucky that one of the
ShipClans captured you. Compared to some others in the State, and I'm
thinking specifically of the War Faction, we are the height of mercy and
compassion. Had the War Faction gotten their hands on you, especially if
they'd caught you someplace sensitive like the throne world, they'd have
put you to death."

Bishop grinned and continued, "I can tell by your face that you've
considered how you'd nobly face the atomic blasting chamber, but I need to
tell you that the War Faction is far more inventive and vindictive than
that. I'm told they have a device that can peel a human body like a banana,
one layer of tissue at a time. And there's another one that can, starting
with the feet, cut a prisoner into slices as thin as three millimeters. I
believe the pain is incredible."

The colonial captain paused for a moment so his prisoner could imagine
about how long he could last being sliced apart that way.

"So you see, Speed," Bishop continued, "You and Feral should really count
yourselves lucky that the Black Hunter caught you. The ShipClans are highly
pragmatic. When life gives you koomatkas, as we say, you should make
koomatka smoothies. In this case, since we latched onto two (alright, two
more) magnificent specimens of masculinity just briming with Vril, we
decided to make pec slaves."

"Vril?" Feral said.

"The vital something that makes you superior men," Bishop said. "Any other
questions?"

"Pec whats?" Speed croaked.

"Slaves," Bishop said, "As in "inferior persons whose only purpose is to
serve their betters".

"And those other PECs?" Speed said.

"Polo, Beast, Dutch and Moe? Them too, yes, of course, though they'll be
staying with the ship. The Id Tap that we implanted in you all is a wicked
little device we unearthed when we settled Colonia Prima. We weren't the
first to occupy the throne world, you see. The Ancients (as we call them)
left behind them a panoply of advanced technology. This ship is a result of
that body of tech; you notice how quickly and efficiently we caught your
rocket ship. And the Id Tap, that you're getting firsthand experience
with?"

"The id isn't a physical part of the brain," Speed contradicted the
colonial. (Never a smart thing to do to a man who has you strapped immobile
to a table.)

With no warning, Bishop rammed a couple of sweaty fingers up the redhead's
asshole and aggressively attacked his prostate.

"Fuck!" Speed screamed, his cock leaping impotently.

"That's not how a pec slave speaks to a ship captain, Speed," Bishop said,
"I trust you'll remember that in the future. But back to the unnecessary
but satisfying Evil Overlord explanation. While it's true that the id might
not be located in any given organ, the Tap links and stimulates several
primordial "id" areas of the brain, making them work in concert. Like right
now. As I stroke your prostate, notice how your body is becoming desperate
to give in to the need to pass on your genes."

Bishop leaned in close and smirked.

"And by that I mean cum, Speed. Normally you can control your id thanks to
your higher brain functions, but not with the Id Tap in place. Instead of
controlling your impulses, your brain is trying to figure out what it needs
to do in order for you to get off. It already knows the answer, of
course. Your tits need to be sucked (or otherwise teased) to "complete the
circuit". Yes, it is a trifle more involved than that, and that's where
your training comes in. What the Procedure does is drive home the mindset
that having your tits sucked leads to release. But that's not all. In phase
two, we will instill the social norms you'll be working under. Accepting
your base status as pathetic suck slaves to masters. If I let you and Feral
loose right now (and no, that's not happening) and you immediately fell
into a bout of mutual tit worship, you could bring about an orgasm, but
after training is finished that will be quite impossible because neither of
you are masters. At that point, only a master (or this nifty sucking
device) will be able to give you that reward, that release."

Bishop punctuated his statement by sliding a couple of fingers up Feral's
hole too.

"Oh fuck!" Feral screamed. "Oh fuck yeah oh fuck there good cum!"

All Bishop did was laugh, "You boys are eventually going to be reduced from
proud warriors to groveling slaves-- to be kept, or sold, or traded away,
as politics require. Your new owners will suckle at your fabulous nipples,
at their leisure, and get disgustingly high on the Vril flowing out of
them."

"Slaves," Feral gasped. (Bishop had just brushed over his prostate.)

"Naturally, Feral. So much better than corpses. As slaves, you will be an
asset both to the ShipClans as bargaining chips and to the elite of the
State as much sought-after chattels, milking beasts if you will."

"Milk..." Speed started, but Bishop cut him off.

"Not that kind of milk, idiot. Nobody's interested in your nut juice,
prodigious as your output clearly is, or in whatever might be physically
harvested from your bodies. People are eagerly awaiting the Vril flowing
from your tits."

"You fiends!" Speed sobbed.

"Fiends?" Bishop beamed, "Yes, I like the sound of that. But not nearly so
fiendish as I am about to be."

Bishop removed his fingers from the PECs' asses, and turned the tit suckers
back on. Detaching the sucker from Speed's left nipple, the captain
attached his lips and chewed on the sweet pink protuberance. A second later
he was rewarded with inarticulate screams as a new gusher erupted from the
redhead's cock and painted his belly.

"Fuh..." Speed managed to croak out when his orgasm finished.

"I'll leave you to your lessons now," Bishop said, replacing Speed's tit
sucker and turning to leave.

"Leave?!" Feral cried.

"Yes. Oh, don't worry. One of my men will monitor you, and I'll be back in,
let's say, a hundred hours to check on your progress."

A hundred?!

"Nooooooooooooooo!" both PECs screamed as the captain disappeared back into
the dark

@@@@@@@@

Bishop stepped into the Training Suite's control room where he found one of
the crewmen manning the station.

"Angel," the captain said, "Run our beauties another thirty-six hours."

"You told them a hundred," Angel pointed out.

"Who cares what lies I tell slaves?" Bishop said, "As I said, thirty-six
hours together. Then I want you to take them to separate rooms where they
can finish their training without distractions."

@@@@@@@@

Thirty-six maddening hours later, dark muscular Angel entered to the
training chamber with a gang of slobgoblins. Feral had passed out at some
point, but Speed was conscious, if not coherent. When the cyborgs released
the PEC's straps, warrior training kicked in automatically, and the redhead
immediately did his best to escape. Sadly for him, the best he could manage
was to roll painfully off the table (pulling himself out of his tit-suckers
as he did so). There, though, Speed found that his body, that he thought
would be able to fight the good fight, had been too severely drained during
his training, and he collapsed in a heap before he could manage a step. The
cyborgs pulled him to his feet in spite of that, holding him up for Angel
to examine.

Speed tried to protest as the crewman wiped the cum off his pale body with
a towel.

"Let me go, you stunted little... Argh."

Angel was famous for not taking abuse, especially about his size, and he
grabbed the half-way slave's balls and twisted. Speed writhed as his nuts
were squeezed.

"Ow, fuck, I'm sorry!" Speed cried.

Only then did Angel release Speed's balls, and the cyborgs let the warrior
collapse onto the deck.

"A little respect is due your masters, slave," Angel said to the man now
curled up on the floor. "Do you agree?"

Speed pulled himself together enough to nod an affirmative through the
tears of pain.

Angel stared for a second more and said simply, "Bring him."

Slobgoblins took hold of the redhead and drug him away to another
room. Another room, with another table, to which he was once again securely
strapped before being fit once more with tit suckers.

"Fuck! Not those! Not again!" Speed cried.

And then Angel turned this new machine on. Things were just like before,
except that Speed didn't have the moral support of his buddy Feral (even
though that support had been getting a little dubious there at the
end). Furthermore this new room was brightly lit and had a mirrored bowl
for a ceiling. No matter where Speed looked, he saw only himself, helpless
and at his captor's mercy, as the insidious tit sucking torture
relentlessly pursued its goal of turning him from a real man into a slave.

Just below the range of usual human hearing, a robotic voice began a
litany. "You are a slave. You exist to give suck to your masters and follow
their commands. You are a slave..."

"I'll leave you to it," Angel said as he left Speed in his new home.

"Argh!" the redhead cried as the suckers kicked into overdrive and a new
phase of his torture and reeducation began.


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Possible cast:

Colonials
Bishop, Triple H (WWE) ; Angel, Angel Garza (WWE)

Terrans:

Speed, Sheamus (WWE) ; Feral, Finn Balor (WWE) ; Polo, Apollo Crews (WWE) ;
Beast, Urijah Faber (MMA)