Date: Fri, 4 Nov 2022 19:48:16 -0400
From: mr.evan.andrews@gmail.com
Subject: PECs chapter 9 -- science fiction of fantasy

PECs
Chapter nine: The Royal Crèche
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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The muscles of Speed's bare chest pressed into the floor, the thick carpet
scraping his erect nipples as he abased himself before the mass of muscular
ego that called itself Roc, Prince of Colonia Prima. His hands were clasped
across his back because, even on your knees, that was a necessary part of
the slave display position. It was a cruel addition to the humiliation
being dished out, but all the same the Prince required it.

The redhead turned his face to the right and watched as Devi, in a similar
pose, rocked and grunted through his ass' "tasting" which was to say
"fucking". The Indian's head flopped about to the time of Yordan's thrusts
as the Royal Taster, perched on his toes, laid it to the pec slave's
upturned ass.

"Ugh. Ugh. Ugh." Devi's brown eyes were open wide in astonishment, as if
getting it up the ass were a new thing. It wasn't of course. Not to him,
not to Speed, and not to the Italian stud Nice whose fat sexy ass Yordan
had "tasted" first. But it was clearly what the Prince wanted to see. Soon
it would be Speed's turn—perhaps even sooner than he thought.

"Royal Taster," Roc's raw masculine voice cut across Devi's moans, "You've
still got the redheaded pec slave to taste, and the royal patience can only
be stretched so far."

"Yes, Your Highness," Yordan said, and he pulled out of Devi's man-cunt
without having seeded the slave.

Speed hazarded a glance at Prince Roc as he lounged, naked, back in his
throne, watching the show. The man was a paragon of what testosterone could
do when properly channeled.  Naked, the man's skin gleamed with oil, and
his tattoos (a family affectation, Speed guessed, since the entire Royal
Crèche was inked) animated like an old-timey cartoon while he played
with his cock (and truth be told, he had a lot of cock to play with). The
royal face was handsome, yet at the same time uncompromisingly stern. It
was a face either to fall in love with or to cringe in terror before. The
set to the Prince's eyes and half frown told Speed that this man took
matters sexual very seriously. If the Prince ever smiled, though, he would
reinvent himself, no longer intimidating but devastatingly charismatic.

(Behind him, Speed knew, the Prince in Waiting, Rom, stood with the
kneeling Feral and Angel nuzzling at his bulging trunks. Pack and Cosh
stood with Jay and Jim, the Bloods, the two young royal cousins that
rounded out the Crèche . These youngest royals had their arms around the
last two slaves, pulling on their roiling ball-sacks and stroking their
lube-leaking erections.)

Yordan took position behind Speed. With no warning, he thrust forward,
breeched the well-trained hole, and laid the same hard fuck on Speed that
he had the other two kowtowing pec slaves.

"Fuh! Fuh! Fuh!" Speed grunted in time with the thrusts. "Fuh!!!"

"Exactly, brute," Yordan said, "I'm fucking your tight ass, so that, if you
are a trap planted by the State's enemies, I will die and not our gracious
Prince. So take that dick, beast! Take it deep!"

Speed screwed his eyes closed and moaned as he suffered through the anal
assault. During shipboard training, none of his former warrior buddies had
fucked him so hard as this, not even the id-crazed Feral during Speed's
first experience in giving up his asshole. Yordan, magnificently hung
himself, was not just "tasting" each of the Prince's chosen pec slaves. No,
he was also making sure that they knew that, even though he was not the
Prince or a royal, he definitely outranked them.

"Fuh! Fuh!" Speed grunted, "Oh, fuck me, master viscount! Breed that slave
ass hard!"

The Prince smiled and applauded the redhead's performance.

"I like him, Yordan; he'll be a fun one to play with! And just imagine how
he'll grovel when I let my boon companions loose on his slave cunt..."

Speed wasn't paying attention, not even to the information that his body
would soon be shared around with other men. The pec slave was too busy
trying to bring Yordan off in his ass. If he managed that, then maybe the
Prince would decide he was the best of the lot and suckle his breast before
Nice or Devi's. Speed was that desperate to blow his wad.

And that was just his tough luck. Yordan obviously had no intention to
steal right to first seeding from his royal master. He fucked Speed a few
more minutes and then pulled out.

"Highness, I appear to still be alive," Yordan said. "I certify these
slaves as safe to serve the royal person."

And that said, Yordan stepped back.

Having been released to serve the Prince's whim, the three big pec slaves
responded to the royal hand signal which beckoned them to approach him.

"Slave Speed, stand here beside me, that I may taste of your vril.  Slave
Nice and slave Devi, you will attend to the royal cock and balls."  The
royal slaves assumed their stations, and the Prince looked at his heir
apparent.

"Rom, my noble Prince-in-Waiting," Roc said, "I take it you would have
those two pec slaves at your beck and call?"

The answer was obvious, but Rom answered regardless.

"Yes, my princely cousin. This blond's body and thick cock speak to hidden
reservoirs of masculine potential. And as for the feral Irishman tonguing
my nuts; those pecs, and that ass, they demand attention that I am more
than willing to grant them."

"So be it. Take them with my blessing and break them in. And you my young
cousins, that leaves you the English bulldog and the Japanese stud. I trust
you'll find them to your liking."

"Lord Prince and cousin," Jay said, "If we cannot find ways to use these
slaves to advantage, then dismiss us from the succession."

"Royal Taster," the Prince said, "Do your duty on the Prince in Waiting's
pec slaves."

Rom led his two new slaves to his own throne and bent them over, Angel over
the top of Feral. Yordan waited for the Prince in Waiting to finish lubing
up and amusing himself by fingerfucking his slave's holes (Rom spent what
could have been called an excessive time exploring Angel's cunt and pumping
the slave's fat shaft) before stepping up and sliding his own fuck-meat
into Feral's man-pussy.

"Master Taster!" Feral cried out. "Thank you for fucking me, master
taster!"

"Such eagerness," the Prince purred at Speed, "Maybe I should have taken
him instead of one of these slabs of hot meat." And he ran his hand through
Nice's mop of hair.

Both Nice and Devi responded by redoubling their efforts on the royal
staff. They'd won the jackpot and were not about to give up their positions
to anyone else.

The Prince sighed and said, "Or perhaps not."

Yordan changed from Feral's hole to Angel's, breeding them both down. From
one hole to the other, the viscount's raging hard-on laid down the law.

"Royal Taster," Rom said after a while, "Again, you don't seem to be dead,
so I assume that my slaves are safe."

"Yes, of a certainty, royal Rom," Yordan said as he pulled out of Angel's
hot gripping ass. "I certify them as perfectly safe."

The Taster got out of the way just in time. The Prince in Waiting rushed
forward, rolling both pec slaves onto their backs (as they squeezed side by
side onto the throne) and used his royal cock to solemnize Angel's just
vacated hole.

"Oh!" the blond cried. "Fuck! So big! So... fucking! Fuck! Fuck me!"

This left only the Bloods Royale and their new slaves.

While waiting for Yordan to finish tasting their cousin Rom's slaves, the
Bloods had hung their slaves by the wrists from a chain that conveniently
dangled from a ceiling fixture. The two slaves faced one another, and their
ball sacks, once lashed together, held them more or less immobile so their
desperate shafts could grind against each other. And they did grind until
enough precum had been teased out that the intimately touching cocks
squelched.

"Lazarus," Yordan said, "Join me, and you, Elroy, and you, Saul, stand by
to spell us."

Yordan and the shave-headed Lazarus stepped up, and soon hard cocks
stretched the slave asses. Pack was stoic, even silent (though he grunted
under his breath), but Cosh made up for it for the Limey's lack of
enthusiasm

"Fuck my ass!" the Japanese slave screamed at Lazarus. "Let me prove to
you, master, that mine are the tits you wat to suck!"

Lazarus forced the slaves faces together and said, "Kiss."

Ah. The one thing they had not done in training on the Black Hunter, Speed
thought, and, judging from the slaves' faces, it apparently wasn't part of
the curriculum on the other rockets either. Reluctance slowly faded,
though, and soon the pec slaves surrendered to the temptation and started
French kissing in earnest. As the slaves' asses were bred and their dicks
continued to slide against each other, and thick precum oozed out the
piss-slit, slipping down their shafts to drip onto the floor. Then the
slaves started kissing the Taster and his staff as well.

"Yordan...!" Lazarus cried.

"Right behind you, Lazaraaaaaah!"

And with a cry, Yordan blasted Pack's guts with cum.

"Ghhhrrrrrrgggghhh!" Lazarus growled as he, too, seeded Terran asshole.

The Taster and his man, fell back, and Yordan's other men were about to
take their places when the Bloods Royale blocked their way.

"That won't be necessary," Jim said, and he and Jay cozied up and took over
breeding the now cum-slick assholes themselves.

"Fuck!" Pack cried as his body began shaking with the force of the Bloods'
thrusts.

Speed couldn't decide if the Englishman had entered a new level of
enslavement, or if he had been acting his resistance, and was now letting
go his passion. Not that it mattered.

As the Bloods rearranged the slaves' guts, they reached around and began
teasing and pinching the pec slaves' tits.

"Oh fuck!" Pack cried. "Yes, like that! Thank you, master Jim!"

"Thank you, master Jay," Cosh cried. "Fuck me! Twist my tits! Make
meee...!"

And Pack was right there with him, "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

The Bloods Royale yelled as they painted the plundered guts with ropes of
sperm, just as fountains of cum jetted upward from the bound shafts as the
two slave prisoners spurted hot jism over their own bellies.

"FUCK!"

Speed wasn't sure if it was one of the Bloods or one of the slaves who'd
said it, because he too had suddenly reached the edge and was blasting cum
all over the Prince's noble chest.

Jay and Jim, the Bloods Royale, spirited Pack and Cosh off to their
quarters (not something the pec slaves were in the least upset
over). Silhouettes of the action showed on the translucent dividing
wall. The now-claimed pec slaves were worshiping their masters' bodies,
sucking fat caramel-colored cocks, and rocking as the minor royals
accustomed their asses to heavy man-fucking.

Prince Rom pushed Angel and Feral into his own quarters where he all but
threw them onto their stomachs in the bed. One he drill-fucked, and then
the other, pounding the slaves' fresh ass-cheeks until the bed squeaked and
the howls drowned out the Blood's breeding.

The Prince, in a rare display of egalitarianism, had one of his pec slaves
and then the other two in turn sit on his fat cock, doing all the work as
all three fucked themselves silly. Speed was astounded at the royal stamina
and reasoned his vril must really be top-notch.

@@@@@

Whatever Speed had expected to find in the Royal Crèche, supposedly the
center of the colony's government, it was not what he did find.

Life in this circle of close and powerful friends was a carousel of
unbridled licentiousness. The royals kept their favorites, their boon
companions, close and bound them closer by sharing the favors of their
corps of succulent pec slaves. Slave bodies continually serviced the sexual
needs (or whims) of the inner circle. (Speed wondered if the sex slaves
that they had apparently replaced had been used this way as well.) As a
mark of special favor, a companion might be allowed to suckle a pec slave,
but that was a rare reward. Usually it was nothing more than simple sex. At
the end of a riotous evening, the pec slaves might be called on to give
suck to this companion or that for the rest of the night, but often the
party simply moved to other quarters (and possibly other pec slaves) while
Yordan and his men came to put the royal sex-toys away.

Tonightm on the other hand, was being given over to a new amusement. The
Royal Crèche and their special guests watched a miniature indoors track
and cheered as models raced around it. The models were of some local
carnivore. The yorgun could be "trained" by means of brain implants, and
jockeys, using brain and intramuscular implants, controlled the beasts from
a safe distance as they "raced" on carefully isolated tracks.

These yorguns, on the other hand (only a fraction of the racing monsters'
size) moved around the indoor track in fits and starts. It made no sense
until you realized that control of speed and direction was being controlled
by the royal pec slaves who sat off to the side, each of them parked on a
control rod shaped like a dildo. The faster the pec slaves rode the
device's shaft, the faster their yorgun went. Direction was controlled by
the ways they twisted on the control dildos. It had taken humiliating hours
of training before they had all gotten the hang of the devices.

"Faster, slave Speed," Prince Roc cried. "You've almost caught up with my
cousin's inferior beast!"

The cousin in question was Jay, who had chosen Cosh for his racing
slave. Speed wasn't sure he'd call Cosh an inferior beast, especially given
how the Japanese hunk was, uh, handling his control rod.

"Fuck hard. Fuck fast. Fuck hard. Fuck fast," Cosh muttered as he slammed
up and down, but he shot Speed a look that clearly said, `This race is
mine', but Speed was not about to let the little Asian beat him in this
race.

"Win this, slave Speed," the Prince called, "And I will tit-suck you until
your balls fire off three times, and then I wll take you to my bed for the
rest of the night! No one else will touch your body but the royal
person. Just fucking win!"

Given such motivation, Speed went into overdrive and nearly tore the
control rod loose with the intensity of his squats.

"Fuck!" Speed cried. "Fuck!" as his racing beast pulled ahead and sped over
the finish line, Cosh's beast finishing a full six seconds behind him.

The Prince's boon companions went wild, and the Prince himself lifted the
victorious pec slave off of his control cock and pulled the redhead's
sweaty body into an embrace.

"I made a promise!" the royal voice boomed over the cheers, and the Prince
threw the exhausted pec slave onto his back on the nearest couch and fell
upon his nipples.

As the supreme executive of the entire State of Colonia Prima ministered to
his prize pec slave, the rest of the throng were forced to amuse themselves
with the remaining six slaves, sharing the suckling of their fine tits
through the rest of the carouse while also teasing their fuckable
bodies. The carouse went on until the wee hours of the night, and when it
ended the Prince, having brought Speed off three times, remembered the rest
of his promise and took Speed to his bed, where he used the big redhead's
chest as a headrest—and, as the main sun rose, as a cumdump.

@@@@@

If this was government on Colonia Prima, Speed was not impressed by the way
things worked. Today, for example, the Prince was supposed to be consulting
formally with his advisors—Speed translated that as something serious,
so he made sure his Repressor was turned on before he was called to attend
his masters.

Taking his place behind the Prince and to the right, the ginger pec slave
watched as the Royal Crèche , the most senior of His Highness' Boon
Companions, and the Council of Six all came together late that morning. Two
of the Companions and all of the Council of Six had brought their pec
slaves, so there was quite as much Vril available to clear the men's minds
as they could need.

Once the extensive preparatory carouse had been accomplished, the Prince
looked at Battle, chair of the Council, and said, "You said the Council has
reached a consensus?"

"Highness," Battle said, and even Speed could make out the contempt under
the tone and words, "We have. It as not unanimous, but four of the Six have
agreed that, given the size of the incursion which supplied us our new pec
slaves, the Terran Empire must be preparing for War."

Speed was ready to contradict that, but he caught himself in time and
stifled the words he'd meant to say into a groan, a normal vocalization for
men under the control of the Id Tap. Battle looked over at Speed, but the
redhead flexed his pelvic muscles which made his cock dance and show off
its glisten of precum.

The Prince gave his prize slave a sharp look, but Speed had fallen back
into slave display pose, and had the chops to look both professional and
sheepish at the same time.

"Tell me more," The Prince said. "This lot, apparently not much more than a
hundred in number, was easily captured and just as easily converted into
pec slaves. Earth's technology is inferior to our own and their warriors
are easily overcome because of that. How can they pose a threat?"

"Highness," said the Councilor, Cage, the one who had switched from the
Home Faction to the War Faction, "Earth is the mistress of a tidy
empire. They can draw on the manpower of a dozen worlds at least, to throw
at us. The Council is concerned not by what they can do today but what they
could do tomorrow."

"One of our pec slaves," Whip said, "On the withholding of orgasm told us
all about the Terrans' plans. Their goal is to take back under imperial
authority every colony that had been established before the Civil War,
starting with us."

(Where Stars, Whip's pec slave, could have learned any such thing confused
the snot out of Speed, but the Prince was speaking again.)

"You paint a serious picture of what the State faces. Have any other
captives corroborated the information?"

"Not per se, Highness," Slab said. "The Council applied orgasm-deprivation
to several of the War Faction's pec slaves, but at most they agree on
little more than the Empire's expansionist policies and their interest in
the nearest colony worlds."

"If the best defense is in fact a good offense," Hammer said, "Then the
time to defend is now—by attacking the Empire not only before she
attacks us, but also before they have agreed upon a grand strategy."

Slab and Raptor, the remaining Home Faction councilors, were giving their
loyal opposition face, but they were outvoted on the Council and apparently
out smarmed here in the Prince's presence. The Royal Person was clearly
eager to expand the State, and Earth was a logical target. (Who knew what
the other colonies might have discovered or developed.)

The Prince gestured to Speed, and the redhead knelt down to give the royal
person access to his tits. As Roc suckled, he looked up at Speed's eyes and
said, "What do you think, slave Speed?"

Catching himself, the enslaved Terran, looked his gratitude down at the
sucking face and said, "Thank you for suckling from this slave, master
Prince Roc! Please, may I cum?"

That appeared to be the right answer, because Prince Roc reached out for
Speed's other nipple, and using teeth, tongue, lips, and fingers, he soon
had his favorite suck firing off an impressive arc of cum.

"Imagine an entire planetary populace enslaved by the Id tap, Highness,"
Battle said, "Millions of men programmed to do anything in order to cum."

"That's a lot of pec slaves," Raptor said.

"Who said they needed to be pec slaves?" Battle retorted. "Imagine,
Highness, an army comprised of men bound to obey by their need to cum. Now
imagine turning them against one of the other "lost" colonies, but for our
own ends."

Prince Rom, by now, was smiling a knowing smile.

"Cum-crazed shock troops," he said. "You intrigue me, councilor
Battle. Tell me more."

@@@@@

Hours later, in the dark of night, Speed, lying on his side, rocked as
Yordan gently plowed his hole. (Devi had the honor of sharing the Prince's
bed tonight.)

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Speed panted. "Faster!"

"You say they actually proposed to weaponize the Id Tap?"

"Yes, master," Speed panted.

"Fuck, did you turn you Repressor off? Here."

The Royal Taster stuck a finger up Speed's chute alongside his cock and
reactivated the device.

"Oh fuck," Speed breathed. "Thank you, sir."

"Your story is true?" Yordan asked, still pumping away.

"Yes, sir, I told you every word they spoke. They are definitely planning
to attack."

"Hmm, then we will have to get a warning out to the Empire."

Yordan picked up the pace of his thrusts and reached around the slave's
muscular chest to pinch his nipple.

"Oh fuck!" Speed gasped, his hormones all but boiling over. "Yes, just
like... like... fucking cumming!"

The pale muscle slave rocked as his big dick let loose a flood of sperm
juice. Yordan rolled on top of the redhead and rodded him fast and furious,
seeding his hole in no more than two minutes. The Taster collapsed on top
of the slave for short time, breathing hard, and then rolled off.

"Back to the Stable with you," he said, "And be ready to act when I give
the word."

Speed nodded, rolled out of the bed, and headed towards the door.

"And turn your Repressor off now," Yordan said.

"Right, boss," Speed said, and after a quick probing of his guts the slave
felt the enslavement device's blatant touch as he returned to the dream
world where it was natural to submit to almost everything.



Colonials:

Prince Roc, The Rock (WWE) ; Prince Rom, Roman Reigns (WWE) ; Jay, Jey Uso
(WWE) ; Jim, Jimmy Uso (WWE)

Tasters: Viscount Yordan, Bogdan (Bogy) Yordanov (model) ; Lazarus, Lazar
Angelov (model) ; Elroy, Cameron McElroy (model) ; Saul, Saulius Sungis
(model)

Council of Six: Battle, Bautista (wrestler) ; Hammer, Alex Hammerstone
(MLW) ; Whip, Bobby Lashley (WWE) ; Cage, Brian Cage (wrestler) ; Raptor,
Luchasaurus (AEW) ; Slab, Test (WWE)


Terrans:

Royale Crèche slaves: Speed, Sheamus (WWE) ; Feral, Finn Balor (WWE) ;
Devi, Sangram Chougule (bodybuilder) ; Nice, Tony Nese (WWE) ; Angel, Brad
Patton (gay porn) ; Pack, Pac (NXT) ; Cosh, Yujiro Kushida (wrestler)