Date: Fri, 7 Oct 2022 17:36:47 -0400
From: Ian Engle <mr.evan.andrews@gmail.com>
Subject: PECs chapter 6 -- science fiction of fantasy

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


@@@@@@@@@@@


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.

@@@@@@

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.


@@@@@@

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