Date: Sat, 30 Jan 2016 15:38:17 +0000
From: Rob Armstrong <robarmstrong26@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: Spikes Diaries - Schultz
SPIKE'S DIARIES: SCHULTZ
THESE STORIES CONTAINS THEMES OF INCEST BETWEEN FATHERS, SONS AND/ OR
GRANDSONS, WATERSPORTS AND DOMINATION. THESE CHARACTERS EXIST IN AN AIDS
FREE, CONSEQUENCE FREE, FANTASY PARALLEL UNIVERSE AND ARE NOT TO BE
EMULATED.
PLEASE SUPPORT NIFTY WITH YOUR DONATIONS AND KEEP THIS INCREDIBLE
RESOURCE GOING.
NB: See 'Spike's Piercing Parlour' series, November 24th 2012
!!!NOTE TO THE READER!!!
The first part of this chapter contains a lot of exposition,
quasi-scientific jargon and some debate, designed to clue you in on what
Spike, Doc and their shadowy paymasters have been up to behind the scenes
all this time.
Don't be put off - if you stick with it, you'll discover just how
everybody's favorite formula works in turning straight guys, which will
make some of the more 'out-there' plot elements easier to - um - swallow...
But if swallowing isn't your thing, feel free to skip ahead and
scroll to about a quarter of the way down, where things get a little
more... pelvic. The rest of us won't judge or make fun of you - will we,
fellas?
Top Secret: The following is featured in the research records of
Pentagon operatives George 'Doc' Schultz and Carmine 'Spike' Russo, in
connection with their ongoing studies of the evermore widespread effects of
Formula 51....
PRESENTATION by George 'Doc' Schultz, Phd (honorary) BSc (honorary)
LEADER, PROJECT GROOM, GROOM LAKE, NV
in the presence of commanders of the Black Ops Executive, ex-CIA
operatives and attaches to the Sexual Behavioral Unit
venue: unspecified warehouse near Washington DC
(FACING A SEATED ROW OF MEN, SOME IN FULL MILITARY DRESS UNIFORM,
STANDS A HANDSOME, BEARDED DADDY BEAR IN HIS LATE 50s. DESPITE HIS AGE, HE
IS CLEARLY IN SPECTACULAR PHYSICAL CONDITION BENEATH HIS PALE BLUE SCRUBS.)
Good afternoon, gentlemen, and welcome to today's demonstration of
Formula 51. Firstly, my apologies that, for practical purposes, we are
unable to invite you to our parent facility at Groom Lake in Nevada.
However, I'm sure this specially customised warehouse space will adequately
suit our needs for today.
My name is George Schultz, and I am the leader of Project Groom.
Later you will meet my number two, Operations Officer Carmine Russo. Our
CO, General Rushworth, sitting there among you needs no introduction, of
course.
Both Russo and myself are veterans of the United States Marine
Corps, so you will find us sympathetic to the military agenda at every
stage.
First of all I aim to outline for you the origin and nature of
Formula 51. And don't worry, gentlemen, I'll be sure to keep the high-tech
gobbledeygook to the minumum, for all the quarterbacks among you.
(GOOD NATURED LAUGHTER FROM THE ASSEMBLY)
During my talk I'll be happy to take any questions from you, before
finally we move on to a practical demonstration.
First of all I should mention that much of what you will hear and
see here today may surprise, even shock you. I certainly won't hold back
for anyone's sensibilities. We're all men here, and I make no apology for
that. But even though your moral outrage may be triggered, I must ask you
to reserve judgement until the end of the day - and to bear in mind at all
times that what we do here is done to serve the best interests, not only of
our country, but of the world at large. Nothing less.
So... Russo and myself were originally engaged by the Pentagon to
conduct research into certain paranormal phenomena. But then with a change
of administration, that project fast lost credibility and sadly all funding
was withdrawn.
On the back of this, however, we were recruited by the Black Ops
Executive to head up Project Groom, tasked with exploring the military
potential of my own Formula 51.
How ironic is it that I should have named it after Area 51, as
Groom Lake is more popularly known? Little did I guess what a future
awaited my little toy in that place.
Yes, and 'toy' is exactly how it started out, from very small
beginnings indeed. I developed the first compound entirely for my own
amusement and gratification; that of grooming unwitting, so-called straight
men into acts of male on male incest.
(SOME UNCOMFORTABLE MURMURS FROM THE AUDIENCE NOW)
As I said, I make no apologies. Take me as I am. And they all
continue to enjoy the experience to this day. I assure you, no
heterosexuals were injured in the making of this program.
(SMATTERING OF CHUCKLES AS THE TENSION ALLEVIATES - SOMEWHAT)
In essence, the Formula is a psychotropic drug which modifies
sexual behavior. It can be absorbed through skin tissue - mucous membrane
is best - or it can be administered in an airborne form.
Now, I take it you've all read the 'Diary' case studies we've been
compiling and forwarding onto your departments? Yes? Good. So you're all
up to speed. Are there any questions so far?
Yes? Yes, Mr Flag.
(CIA ROGUE: Surely this is the stuff of science-fiction. How can
some drug turn a man gay?)
(SCHULTZ LAUGHS) It can't. And this is an argument I've had with
many of my colleagues.
No man can be turned gay. Fact is, the desire needs to be there
already, lying dormant within that individual. No matter how deeply buried
or unguessed at.
And since the biological imperative for all males is to penetrate,
inseminate and therefore procreate... and, at a purely primal level, a hole
is a hole...that potential resides in almost every man ever born.
Look at all the discussion in the popular media lately - all this
talk of 'bro-jobs', heteroflexibility and straight guys getting it on 'on
the DL'. Society is only just beginning to wake up to a biological truth
as old as the species - a man's body is subject to certain physical
pleasures, regardless of orientation. To identify as gay or straight is a
psychological factor. The desire for mansex, however - NOT the same thing
- is part of the fundamental set-up of male physiology.
What Formula 51 does is to awaken that desire. It triggers the
primal imperative and sets it in dominance over all other chemical
motivators.
(SEXUAL BEHAVIORIST: With respect, Mr Schultz - so far, so what?
It acts like any other aphrodisiac.)
Well, yeeees, Dr Plumpton - although at a fever pitch of
erotomania, it has to be said.
But where 51 is different, is that it targets the subject's
response to the XY chromosome in other individuals. The male to male
response. Aggression. Andrenaline. Genetic rivalry. Fight or
flight. Dominate or be dominated...
...And it SEXUALISES it. The biological imperative is now spliced
to the XY response. Hence, couplings under the influence of Formula 51
tend to be somewhat... carnal - even savage.
(SEXUAL BEHAVIORIST: Well, I suppose that would explain some of the
more extreme sexual practices we've read about in these diaries, such as
all the watersports and scat play, for example.)
For sure - if you're going to give in to sexual liberation, you may
as well go the whole way and break those last social taboos while you're
about it.
Which brings me finally to the most important factor. The
signature of its genome is that 51 causes the subject to seek out those
males with the closest possible DNA profile matching their own.
(AIR FORCE OFFICER: And for the quarterbacks among us?)
(LAUGHTER)
Ha! Yes, sorry. In other words, they experience an overwhelming
urge to mate with other male family members.
(AIR FORCE OFFICER: Sweet mother of God...)
(SEXUAL BEHAVIORIST: Exclusively?)
No, but at least, initially. Once the acute phase has passed, and
the mansex genie is out of the bottle, as it were, the subject will
continue to be attracted to other males in general - and also females, if
that happened to be the conscious orientation before.
(AIR FORCE OFFICER: But doesn't this pose a massive risk to our
nation's children?)
By no means, Colonel Patrick. For one thing, minors don't emit the
requisite pheremone signature. For another, they don't pose a threat to
the alpha's fight or flight impulse, as would another sexually mature male.
(CIA ROGUE: But do you mean to tell us that every adult male in
existence can be... turned by this thing? Any one of us?)
Well, I'd say 'affected', rather than 'turned'. But to answer your
question, not absolutely every male, no. In a minute percentile, Formula
51 appears to be ineffective.
Those most resistant to it, oddly enough, tend to be
self-identifying homosexuals who are aware of their desires: therefore,
Formula 51 has little to teach them and its sway merely heightens the
desire for, and experience of, copulation.
(AIR FORCE OFFICER: But why does it have to be incest, goddamnit?)
Most naural thing in the world, Colonel, primally speaking - you're
allowing social mores and your own sense of civilisation to cloud that -
therefore, it's the nearest accessible gateway for the effects of 51's
modification to take hold.
But mostly, to be frank, it's because I'm an enthusiastic old
pervert and I find male on male incest incredibly hot!
(STONY SILENCE)
(SCHULTZ CHUCKLES) Well, I'll leave you to reserve judgement on
that. But if you have any doubts about the effect my Formula has been
having on society over the last four or five years, then I would refer you
back to the Diaries.
(SEXUAL BEHAVIORIST: Hardly conclusive scientific evidence though,
is it... MISTER... Schultz.)
(PAUSE)
In themselves, perhaps not. DOCTOR Plumpton. But you only have to
look at the recent spread of incest as a meme in gay porn - however much
some studios may hedge the issue with labels like 'intergenerational': not
all porn producers are as bold or forthright as my friend Thor Larsen.
Even mainstream Hollywood, now, is just beginning to ever so subtly
hint at the idea of male/ male incest in some of their more recent comedies
and 'buddy' movies. Just like good old homosexuality from Hollywood's
Golden Age, the references are there, albeit heavily veiled.
(CIA ROGUE: I still fail to see the military applications.)
Well, I don't wish to step on General Rushworth's toes, so I'll
leave most of that to him to outline later...
...But for now I'll ask you to consider the destabilising effects
on an enemy encampment - or even whole communities. Not caused by male
incest, so much, as by the reaction of that community to it. Those very
social mores, to which our friend from the Air Force here is so attached,
could have the potential of completely undoing the enemy without a shot
being fired.
(AIR FORCE OFFICER: Oh - so you agree now that standards of decency
are a good thing?)
Why for military purposes, sure. And for my own - well, where
would be the fun if I wasn't breaching them?
(LAUGHTER THIS TIME)
But now, gentlemen, I think the time for theory is over. Lets get
down to the good stuff, shall we?
Oh, and please don't take this as an insult, but don't be too hard
on yourself if any of what you witness gets you... hard. Merely a sign that
you are healthy primal specimens.
(MORE LAUGHTER)
(TO AN ATTENDING M.P.) Lower the lights please, Luzi.
And so, let's draw our attention to this blank wall behind me... a
flick of my remote...
(MACHINERY PURRS)
And hey presto! Yes, gentlemen, just like the spy movies: the
panel glides aside and we are presented with a viewing wall - composed of
two way mirror glass, naturally, giving us access to see into the testing
chamber in the next room.
(MURMURS OF INTEREST)
Now, regard the naked young high school stud you see struggling in
that great chair contraption in the centre of the chamber - his head is
covered at the moment by the virtual reality headset, but you can see for
yourself that he is a prime specimen of young American manhood and may as
well have stepped straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting.
Sadly for me, he is naturally smooth, but his musculature is
extremely well developed for his age. I can tell you that he is seventeen
years old, of Irish/Native American ethnicity, a confirmed pussy hound
sports hero... and is no doubt destined for a football scholarship, a
series of trophy wives and a life of apple pie.
So. An alpha, then. Every cliche checked.
(CIA ROGUE: Why the headset? Sensory deprivation?)
Weeeell, more of a distraction, really. The movie keeps him
occupied, but yes, it helps to keep him a little disoriented too. For now
you'll have to take it from me that his face is just as gorgeous as the
rest of him.
(AIR FORCE OFFICER: What's he watching?)
The movie itself is of little significance. What's important is
the minute flashes of porn that we have edited into it. Too fast for his
conscious mind to register, but his subconscious will pick it up.
As it happens, though, it amused me today to show him a children's
feature. (PAUSE) Although I fear he may never view the seven dwarves in
quite the same way again...
(LAUGHTER)
(SEXUAL BEHAVIORIST: GAY porn, presumably?)
Au contraire, Dr Plumpton. The very pinnacle of heterosexual male
desire - girl on girl straight porn. Tired old subliminal conditioning is
not the technique being trotted out here, if you'll forgive me... DOCTOR
Plumpton. Oho dear me, no.
No, for the purposes of today's demonstration, I need him at his
heterocentric, reproductive peak - an acid test for Formula 51, if you
will. In addition, it will keep his anxiety to a minimum - we mean to
ravish the lucky boy, not terrify him.
Right now he is cuh-razy for pussy and has no idea why he's so
turned on. You can't see his erection beneath that thick metal codpiece
unit, but believe me it's thumping away under there.
(CIA ROGUE: And the function of the chair?)
We call it them Thrones: a fourth generation model of a device I
built for personal use some years ago. As to functions, it has many, which
will become self-evident as the demonstration continues - and as an expert
in interrogation techniques, I think you'll be particularly interested, Mr
Flag.
The codpiece unit is, in fact, a shallow box of electronics,
containing an assortment of instruments, conveniently placed at his
physical center - you will observe the heavy cables that emerge from the
front of it and run into the bulkhead opposite.
It also serves as a pelvic restraint, while allowing for maximum
nakedness.
Other restraints include the leather forearm cuffs, as you see, and
his heavily magnetised biker boots that are currently adhering to the
Throne's metal footplates. There are additional options of a metal collar
and a midsection girdle which glide out from the backrest, but we're not
using those today. I want to give him at least a little leeway to thrash
and struggle.
(AIR FORCE OFFICER: Is he in pain?)
No no, Colonel - nor pleasure, the Throne's dead just now, only the
helmet is running.
(AIR FORCE OFFICER: So why IS he struggling?)
Well, I guess nobody likes being abducted off the street.
(SHOCKED SILENCE)
Come come, gentlemen, don't be disingenuous. You all signed off on
this. (PAUSE) General, if I may ask you to step in here?
(RUSHWORTH: Doctor Schultz is quite right, gentlemen. For such an
undertaking as ours the covert recruitment of suitable test subjects is
paramount...)
(AIR FORCE OFFICER: With respect, General, I am not comfortable
with the kidnapping of US citizens - for such HIGHLY questionable moral
practices - on their own soil.)
(RUSHWORTH: Son, in this instance the co-operation and consent of
all patriots has to be... presumed... BEFORE the fact.)
(AIR FORCE OFFICER: But Sir, we're talking about...)
Oh, I see Dr Plumpton has his little hand up again. Yes, doctor,
get us back on track... pleeze!
(SEXUAL BEHAVIORIST: Oh. Erm. Well then. Moral implications
aside, your preferred physical specimen seems to run to the extremely
muscular, athletic end of the male spectrum - to say nothing of being well
endowed. What society may be said to find stereotypically attractive, in
fact. We know this much from your series of case studies...)
Yeeees..?
(SEXUAL BEHAVIORIST: This appears to be a very restricted gene pool
to draw from - might a... TRAINED... scientist be so bold as to challenge
the clinical validity of this... MISTER... Schultz?)
Challenge away my dear DOCTOR Plumpton. In reply, I guess it could
be argued that the more mucular a subject, the more physically robust he is
- the better enabled he is to withstand some of the pretty rigorous tests
we subject him to...
(SEXUAL BEHAVIORIST SNIFFS IN DISDAIN)
...And that the 'stereotypical attraction' is there for good
evolutionary reasons, after all - the cues that hint at good health and
mating potential.
(SEXUAL BEHAVIORIST: Huh!)
But of course, that's all a load of bullshit and the real reason is
that these are the men I find really... frickin... HOTTTT!
(SEXUAL BEHAVIORIST: Aha!)
So sue me. This is my sandbox we're playing in, gentlemen. My
formula. My rules. And besides, who wants to play with a bunch of
creepyold fuglies, am I right?
(GENERAL LAUGHTER)
So at least you, Dr Plumpton, have nothing to fear...
(PAUSE)
(SEXUAL BEHAVIORIST HAS NO FURTHER QUESTIONS)
To the right of the glass, you will notice a screen displaying
certain of the young stud's vitals: heart rate, sweat secretion, endorphin
levels - and down here on the bottom row, rate of penile engorgement.
The temperature in the chamber is comfortably warm for one who is
immobilised and naked - as you can see from the readout, our hero's core
temperature is at optimum. The last thing we want is for the subject to get
cold - talk about a passion killer.
(CIA ROGUE: Why just him in there? Doesn't it take two to tango?)
Oh, the boy's father is in for quite the surprise, Mr Flag, and
he'll be getting into position VERY soon now...
(INTO AN INTERCOM) Thank you, Spike, that's a 'go'.
The VR helmet will now power down and the subject will become more
aware of his environment. Shortly the boy will be able to hear and see, but
only within the chamber, which is fully soundproof.
(INSIDE THE TEST CHAMBER, THE LIGHTING LOWERS FROM CLINICALLY
BRIGHT LEVELS TO DARKER, MORE MOODY ORANGES AND REDS. THE HIGH SCHOOL KID
BECOMES VERY STILL, TENSE, SENSING A CHANGE.)
(KID: Hey...! Hey, who's there? I know somebody's there!)
Hmmm, he's pretty perceptive for someone encased in a VR helmet.
This suggests a high level of sensitivity which should make today's
proceedings most... intriguing...
(VOICE FROM THE AUDIENCE: Hey... that kid sounds like...)
(KID: Where the fuck are you? Don't you try anything, you fucking
faggots, my dad's connected and he'll FUCK YOU UP!)
See? Spoken like a true alpha - belied by his adrenaline levels on
the display here, though, he's as scared as he's horny.
Brave kid, I admire that.
Ah, look, the hydraulic arm is lifting the helmet off of him...
(VOICE FROM THE AUDIENCE: Where... where did you say you picked
this kid up from..?)
...and you can see our handsome young man for yourselves...
(VOICE FROM THE AUDIENCE: Oh... oh dear God... that's
Darius.. that's MY SON!)
Yes, indeed it is.... COLONEL PATRICK.
(THERE IS A SCUFFLE AS THE AIR FORCE OFFICER LEAPS TO HIS FEET AND
HAS TO BE RESTRAINED BY TWO HULKING MILITARY POLICEMEN.)
(GENERAL COMMOTION IN THE ROOM)
Gentlemen, I present Darius Patrick, football star of Sedgewick
High. Colonel, I commend you for volunteering yourself and your extremely
fuckable son for this project.
(COLONEL: Dear Christ, I didn't volunteer for this... for ANY of
this...)
(RUSHWORTH: I'm afraid you did, son - the moment you started
negotiating with the highest bidder to sell out this project - and your
country.)
Tsk tsk, Colonel. And you, the high-minded moral compass of our
distinguished gathering - whoring out military secrets to foreign powers.
Ooooh... whoring... (CHUCKLES) Now THAT could give me ideas...
And so, I fear, your blameless son and his hot virgin ass are now
also forfeit. Still, on the bright side - I don't doubt you're going to
thoroughly enjoy reaming out his tight, cherry boycunt...
(COLONEL: You filthy degenerate...)
Why, thank you for noticing. And, by the same token, I'm sure
Darius will prove an eager participant when eating out your fine, no doubt
raunchy dad-ass.
(TO THE M.Ps) Okay, men, you can bring him over now.
(THE COLONEL YELLS, DENYING EVERYTHING, AS HE IS BROUGHT FORWARD
AND SHACKLED HAND AND FOOT, SPREADEAGLED BETWEEN TWO PILLARS.
THERE IS CONTINUED DISTRESS AND UPROAR AMONG THE AUDIENCE)
Okay, settle down please, gentlemen. You're quite safe. We've
weeded out the rotten apple from your number; the rest of you and your
precious tushies have no further surprises in store.
Sadly, not so our treacherous colonel, here, who is now in the
hands of our two estimable M.Ps - the Luzi brothers...
(COLONEL: You can't do this - I'm a decorated officer...)
(RIPPPP!)
Well, not any more, Massimo just ripped all the ribbons off your
chest. (TO THE OTHER M.P.) Junior, a ball gag for the colonel, please, I
think we've heard enough of his bullshit...
(COLONEL: Whaaa...gupmphhh...)
Struggle away, Colonel; those shackles may be antiques but you
won't damage them none... and besides, you are a VERY sexy mover...
(THE ROOM IS FILLED WITH THE SOUND OF MORE RIPPING FABRIC.)
Oh dear, there go the buttons on the colonel's dress uniform... as
you can see, the brothers are extremely strong, it isn't often you see
worsted wool torn apart by hand, like that.
Will you look at that - perfect white regulation underwear. Is this
man by the book, or what? Thank you, Luzis, that will do for now...
(WHINE...)
Down, Luzis, DOWN! - it's time for our audience to take over...
(RENEWED MURMURS OF OUTRAGE)
Oh, I'm sure you wouldn't want to condone the colonel's treachery
in a show of leniency, WOULD you..? That would make you
look...awfully... suspicious... And we have PLENTY more M.Ps standing by...
(THERE IS A SCRAMBLE AS THE AUDIENCE MEMBERS LEAVE THEIR SEATS TO
PARTICIPATE IN STRIPPING NAKED THE DECORATED AIR FORCE COLONEL.)
Cotton makes such a satisfying sound as it's shredded, don't you
all agree? Hoo dear, there's not much left of that undershirt...
Now, Colonel, there's no need to blush and hang your head - you
have a magnificent body for a man in his early forties.
Don't jostle each other, gentlemen - though it's nice to see you
all getting into it. Way to go on those shorts, Mr Flag, not just a desk
man, I see...
A jock strap, Colonel? Why you old DAWG, you... I believe there's
hope for you yet. Of course, a frilly pair of women's panties would have
been far kinkier, but I'm sure we can scare some up for you later...
Gentlemen, please feel free to allow your hands to roam all over
the colonel's hot body. It's always good to remind ourselves of just how
impressive a physique life in the military can give a man. Be sure to get
into every nook and cranny.
Junior, get a chair for your brother. And Massimo, undo the wrist
restraints. It's time for the colonel to take his punishment and think
about what he did.
That's right... bend the colonel over your knee and spread his ass
cheeks for everyody's inspection....
Oh dear, will you look at that hole. Clean as a whistle. Is that
SOAP I smell? Tsk tsk, how disappointing...
(THE COLONEL RENEWS HIS STRUGGLES)
Gentlemen, if you'd like to sit back down again, I can see the
colonel is keen to get started... Massimo's hands are very large - and
particularly hard from all his martial arts training. The perfect
instruments to administer a good old fashioned spanking. The colonel is in
for quite a treat...
(WACK!)
(COLONEL: Mmmmmmpghhh...!)
(WACK!)
(COLNEL: HMMM-mmmmmmpghhh...!)
(WWWWACK!)
(COLONEL: HGHHMMM! HGHHMMM! HGHHHMMM!)
This could go on for quite a while - there's coffee and danish at
the back should any of you require refreshments.
No? Nobody? Well, excuse me while I have some, I'm famished.
(TEN MINUTES LATER)
(WWWACK! WACK! WACK! WACK!)
(COLONEL: mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm...................)
Okay, I'm back. Oh, still going? Really, gentlemen, the danish
are delicious, be sure not to miss out. But I see you've all been too
riveted by the floor show...
Thank you, Massimo, that will do for now.
Ah good, a beautiful, dark redness to the colonel's firm butt
cheeks now. I'll bet if we turned the lights all the way down, it would
glow in the dark. And observe his dripping erection, pushing into
Massimo's crotch, wetting his pants. The primal response to the pleasure/
pain principal again, you see, devoid of societal conditioning.
(SEXUAL BEHAVIORIST: Fascinating. Fascinating.)
But sadly all good things must... well, come to think of it, go on
to even better things.
You can take him next door now, Luzis.
(THE COLONEL IS UNGAGGED AND UNCHAINED. HE IS CARRIED AWAY BY THE
LUZIS, BROKEN AND SOBBING.)
(CIA ROGUE: The Luzi brothers! Aren't they...?)
...the sex offenders who were in the news last year? Indeed they
are. They themselves weren't even aware of it at the time, but Massimo and
his younger brother have been on our team since we had the formula smuggled
into jail to them.
That led to quite the spread of mayhem - dozens of raped prison
guards - and also brought in some really useful data.
Later we engineered their prison break, interested to set them
loose on the wider comunity. Following their re-arrest in Vermont we
decided to extract them and bring them to Groom Lake, where they've been on
the staff ever since. Two of my best, most dedicated workers.
Let's see how the colonel is getting on, shall we?.
(WHIRRING NOISE: ANOTHER PANEL GLIDES BACK, REVEALING A SECOND TEST
CHAMBER; DIRECTLY ADJACENT TO THE FIRST AND IDENTICAL IN THE MAIN.
THE DAZED, RED FACED COLONEL IS SLUMPED IN A THRONE, TO WHICH
MASSIMO LUZI IS FASTENING HIM.)
(OVER THE INTERCOM) No cod piece unit for the colonel, Massimo,
just use the girdle around his midsection. We all need to see how that
nice dick of his reacts...
(THE COLONEL'S CROAK IS AUDIBLE VIA INTERCOM: You perverted fiend,
Schultz...)
(TO AUDIENCE) See, now I want to do a cartoon supervillain cackle.
The colonel's Throne has no seat as such, merely a support ring,
much to the relief of his poor, sore ass.
So gentlemen, we have at last father and son subjects in seperate
but adjoining chambers, about to be introduced to an unlooked for but
extremely pleasant set of new lifestyle choices.
(SEXUAL BEHAVIORIST: Well, sooner them than me.)
Yes, luckily for us all, Doctor PLUMP...ton...
(PAUSE)
(SEXUAL BEHAVIORIST APPEARS TO BE BUSY CHEWING A WASP)
You'll note that father and son Thrones have been positioned to
face each other. Another viewing wall seperates the chambers, configured
at this point so that father can see and hear what we do to son, but not
the reverse. The speaker in the colonel's chamber is also on two-way - he
can hear everything we say in this room, so be sure not to say anything
mean...
(INTO THE INTERCOM) Thank you, Spike - any time you're ready.
(A DOOR OPENS ON THE FAR SIDE OF THE KID'S TEST CHAMBER. A VERY
TALL, EXTREMELY MUSCULAR BULL-TYPE ENTERS, MOVING LITHELY FOR SUCH A BIG
MAN. HE IS BALD, MID-FORTIES, WITH RUGGEDLY HANDSOME FEATURES AND A
TAKE-NO-SHIT DEMEANOR.
HE IS WEARING A TIGHT BLACK TEE, BLACK LEATHER JEANS AND SHORT
BLACK LATEX GLOVES. HE ALSO WEARS WRAPAROUND SHADES.)
(KID: D-Dude... who the f... who are you..?)
The intimidating gentleman entering now is my close friend and
associate, Spike Russo. Spike is Head of Ops, of which - ahem - 'patriot
recruitment' forms a large part. So you could call him the Studcatcher,
hehehe...
(SILENCE)
Okay, tough room. Today, Spike will be assisting us with our
demonstration. Let's listen, shall we..? Oh... and remember... his father
can see and hear everything that we are doing to his son...
(SPIKE APPROACHES THE KID, WHO FLINCHES BACK AS FAR AS HE CAN IN
HIS CHAIR.
SPIKE LAYS A GLOVED HAND OVER THE BOY'S MOUTH AND NOSE, FORCING HIM
TO INHALE THE SMELL OF LATEX.
THE BOY SQUIRMS, BREATHING IT IN.)
(IN HIS CHAMBER, THE COLONEL SHAKES HIS HEAD IN DENIAL, CALLING OUT
HIS SON'S NAME IN THROAT WRACKING SOBS - NONE OF WHICH CAN BE HEARD IN THE
OTHER CHAMBER.
HIS ERECTION, HOWEVER, HAS NOT SUBSIDED. MASSIMO KNEELS BETWEEN
HIS SPREAD LEGS AND BEGINS TO TONGUE AND SUCK THE COLONEL'S FULL BALLS.)
(SPIKE RELEASES THE BOY FROM HIS GRASP. HE WHIPS OFF THE SHADES
AND SNARLS IN HIS FACE. THE BOY CRIES OUT IN TERROR.)
(SEVERAL OF SHULTZ'S AUDIENCE DO THE SAME.)
Yes, my friends, Spike is a fan of body modification. Teeth filed
to points and a surgically forked tongue. You'll be relieved to know that
those are yellow contact lenses, so he isn't entirely as supernatural as he
appears.
Time for both our studs to experience Formula 51...
(IN EACH CHAMBER, A BURST OF STEAM JETS INTO THE ROOM, DIRECTED AT
THE THRONES.)
And that's all it takes. One brief blast like that. So, we're
using 51 in it's gaseous form today. The concentration is not particularly
high, so reaction will be gradual - but the end result will be the same.
(CIA ROGUE: Won't your staff be affected?)
Oh dear me, no. Spike and Massimo are old hands at this, their
exposure will simply make them more... creative...
(SPIKE HAS NOW BEGUN TO LICK THE BOY'S FACE. IN DISGUST, DARIUS
TURNS HIS HEAD, THIS WAY AND THAT, TRYING TO AVOID THE FORKED TONGUE.
KID: Get offa me, you fucking queer...
THAT EARNS HIS FACE A SHARP SLAP. THEN THE LICKING CONTINUES.)
(THE COLONEL'S DICK HAS BEGUN TO SEEP PRECUM, WHICH IS RUNNING DOWN
OVER HIS BALLS.
COLONEL: Oh God... I'm so sorry, Son... so sorry...
MASSIMO TIPS THE THRONE BACK AT 45 DEGREES IN ORDER TO ACCESS THE
PRISONER'S REDDENED ASS, WHICH HE LAVES WITH SALIVA, BEFORE MOVING ON TO
FORCEFULLY SUCK AT THE COLONEL'S ANUS.)
(MEANWHILE, SPIKE HAS SWITCHED TO LICKING LONG STROKES UP THE KID'S
STRONG NECK. THE BOY BEGINS TO SETTLE BACK. HIS FACE STILL WET WITH THE
OLDER MAN'S SPIT, HE GASPS AND SIGHS.
TWO SEGMENTED METAL TUBES EMERGE FROM THE CODPIECE UNIT AND GO
SNAKING UP THE BOY'S TORSO, LEAVING A TRAIL OF LUBE OVER HIS ABS. EACH
ENDS IN A METAL CUP, WHICH LATCHES ONTO THE AREOLA OF A NIPPLE.)
Gentlemen, this is one of the applications we have found for the
Pentagon's new SmartReed technology, which was passed onto us.
At the core of each of those tubials is a network of SmartReed
filaments, which here have been programmed to seek out and identify a
subject's erogenous zones... and stimulate them electronically - to
precisely the subject's maximum pleasure tolerance levels.
(IMPRESSED MURMURS IN THE ROOM.)
(THE KID IS NOW WRITHING AND MOANING AS THE ELECTRODES IN THE METAL
NIPPLE CUPS DO THEIR WORK.)
(MASSIMO HAS BEGUN TO RUN A THICK FINGER IN AND OUT OF THE
COLONEL'S HOLE. THE COLONEL IS HUFFING AND PUFFING, JERKING HIS HIPS IN
RESPONSE, BUT IS UNABLE TO TAKE HIS EYES OFF HIS SON THROUGH THE GLASS.)
(SPIKE SETS SOME CONTROLS. THE CODPIECE UNIT DETACHES AND LIFTS
UPWARD FROM THE SEAT ON HYDRAULIC ARMS, THE TUBIALS STILL ATTACHED TO THE
BOY'S NIPPLES, NOW FROM OVERHEAD.
DARIUS'S ROCK HARD DICK IS REVEALED, SLICK WITH JUICES AND
TWITCHING.
THE THRONE AUTOMATICALLY TIPS BACK AND PUSHES HIS KNEES TOWARDS HIS
CHEST. THE BACK REST DRAWS FORWARD, CAUSING HIS ASS TO OVERHANG THE EDGE
OF THE SEAT, EXPOSING IT TO SPIKE.
STILL LICKING, SPIKE REACHES FOR A TUBE OF LUBRICANT. SO THAT THE
BOY CAN SEE, HE BEGINS TO COAT THE GLOVED FOREFINGER OF ONE HAND.
THE KID WATCHES, WIDE-EYED, AS SPIKE BEGINS TO TEASE AT HIS HOLE,
RUNNING THE FINGERTIP UP AND DOWN OVER IT.)
(MASSIMO HAS INSERTED A SECOND FINGER AND IS FRIGGING THE COLONEL'S
HOLE MORE ROUGHLY. THE COLONEL RIDES 'EM LIKE A COWBOY, GETTING MORE AND
MORE EXCITED AT WHAT HE SEES NEXT DOOR.)
(SPIKE PATS THE KID'S ASS, MORE AND MORE FORCEFULLY, UNTIL HE IS
LIGHTLY SPANKING HIM. THE KID GASPS AND BEGINS TO MOAN.
SPIKE HOLDS THE KID'S BALLS TIGHTLY AT THE BASE AND LIFTS THEM OUT
OF THE WAY, EXPOSING THE BOY'S BULGING PERINEUM. HE SPANKS IT... THEN HE
BEGINS PUNCHING IT, HARDER AND HARDER.
THE BOY'S HEAD THRASHES FROM SIDE TO SIDE, LOVING IT, HIS DICK
RUNNING WITH JUICES AGAIN.
THEN SPIKE PICKS UP A LONG HANDLED FLOGGER. HE BEGINS TO BEAT THE
ASS IN LIGHT, ROUNDED STROKES, GRADUALLY BUILDING THE INTENSITY.
THE BOY ALTERNATELY CRIES OUT AND GRUNTS LIKE A RUTTING BULL.
SPIKE SETS THE FLOGGER ASIDE, RUNNING HIS HANDS OVER THE NEWLY
REDDENED ASS.
THE KID STARES INTO SPIKE'S EYES, HIS MOUTH HANGING OPEN, PANTING.
SPIKE SLIPS THE LUBED FINGERTIP INTO HIS HOLE AND GLIDES IT UP HIM.
THE KID'S MOUTH FORMS A STARTLED 'OH' AND HIS EYEBROWS RAISE.)
(COLONEL: Yes - yes - yes - yes...)
(SPIKE BEGINS TO WORK THE BOY'S HOLE, GOING DEEPER AND DEEPER,
MAKING WIDER AND WIDER CIRCLES.)
(COLONEL: Two fingers... two fingers... pant - pant - pant)
(SPIKE CAN HEAR THE COLONEL OVER AN INVISIBLE EARPIECE.
HE INSERTS A SECOND FINGER.
THE KID BEGINS TO BUCK HIS HIPS IN THE CHAIR, TRYING TO GET MORE
INSIDE HIM.
SPIKE LEANS FORWARD. THE BOY'S MOUTH OPENS TO WELCOME HIS FORKED
TONGUE AND HE FRENCHES SPIKE HUGRILY.)
(COLONEL: More... more... more...)
(SO SPIKE INSERTS A THIRD FINGER. THE BOY MOANS EXCITEDLY INTO
SPIKE'S MOUTH AND PRESSES CLOSER TO HIM.)
(MASSIMO HAS ALSO INSERTED A THIRD FINGER, AND THE COLONEL'S HIPS
ARE A BLUR OF FEVERISH TWERKING.
COLONEL: Fuck him... fuck him... fuck him... fuck him...)
(SPIKE REMOVES HIS FINGERS AND FLIPS A SWITCH. THE THRONE STARTLES
THE BOY BY SWINGING UP AND AROUND, TOTALLY RECONFIGURING ITSELF INTO AN
UPRIGHT SAINT ANDREW'S CROSS, UNTIL THE BOY IS STANDING IN A SPREAD X
POSITION, HIS BACK TO SPIKE.
SPIKE UNLEASHES HIS ENORMOUS, WEDGE-HEADED WEAPON FROM HIS LEATHER
JEANS AND TAPS IT AGAINST THE BOY'S ASS.
DARIUS'S EYES WIDEN IN ALARM.)
(COLONEL: Oh... oh... oh... oh...)
(THERE IS A SUDDEN EXPLOSION FROM OUTSIDE THE WAREHOUSE, SHAKING
THE BUILDING TO IT'S FOUNDATIONS.)
(LIGHTS IN BOTH CHAMBERS FLICKER AND DIE. IN THE BLACKNESS THERE
IS A DESCENDING WHIR OF MACHINERY AS SYSTEMS APPEAR TO POWER DOWN.
A STRIDENT ALARM SHRIEKS OUT OVER THE PA SYSTEM. LOW EMERGENCY
LIGHTING COMES ON AS RIVULETS OF DUST RAIN DOWN FROM THE CHAMBER CEILINGS
AND ALL ELECTRONIC DOORS GLIDE OPEN.
THE TWO CHAMBERS ARE NOW FULLY OPEN TO EACH OTHER.
SPIKE STEPS BACK, TUCKING HIS FUCKROD AWAY, AND MASSIMO LEAPS TO
HIS FEET. THEY REGARD EACH OTHER ACROSS THE DUSTY GLOOM.
SPIKE: Shit! Somebody's taken out the main generator! With me,
Luzi!
THE TWO MEN RACE OUT THROUGH THE OPEN DOOR, LEAVING THEIR CAPTIVES
UNATTENDED.)
(IN THE PRESENTATION AREA, THERE IS COMMOTION ONCE AGAIN.)
Please remain in your seats, gentlemen! There is no danger here.
None whatsoever.
(SEXUAL BEHAVIORIST: But that was a bomb...)
No, Dr Plumpton, that was a precisely positioned, controlled
detonation of our own devising. You'll notice that the emergency lighting
is only present in the testing chambers.
As far as our subjects are concerned, an unforseen emergency has
arisen and this warehouse is under attack. The doors to their cells are
open and they are unsupervised.
(CIA ROGUE: So? They're going to get away.)
Are they? Let's see, shall we?
(THE KID LOOKS AROUND GROGGILY, HIS DICK BOBBING. HIS ASS WEAVES
EXPECTANTLY, FEELING NEGLECTED. WHERE DID EVERYBODY GO?
ALONG WITH THE DOORS, THE COLONEL'S RESTRAINTS HAVE ALSO POPPED
OPEN. HE FINALLY REALISES THIS AND LURCHES DRUNKENLY OUT OF THE THRONE.
HE STAGGERS AROUND FOR A MINUTE, GETTING HIS BEARINGS.
HE REMEMBERS HIS SON.
COLONEL: ... Darius..!
KID: Dad... Dad, is that you..?
COLONEL: ...oh God... oh God, Son...
THE COLONEL MAKES HIS WAY TO HIS SON. HE GOES ROUND TO THE FRONT
AND PUTS A HAND TO THE BOY'S FACE. THEN HE CHECK'S THE KID'S RESTRAINTS
BUT THEY APPEAR TO BE STILL ENGAGED.
COLONEL: Give... just give me a minute...
THE COLONEL SEARCHES THE CHAMBER FOR SOMETHING. HE LOOKS AROUND AT
HIS SON'S ASS, WHICH IS STILL ABSENT-MINDEDLY GYRATING.
THEN HE FINDS WHAT HE'S LOOKING FOR.
HE PICKS UP THE FLOGGER.
AND COMMENCES TO THRASH HIS BOY'S ASS WITH IT.
WITH MOUNTING FEROCITY.
DARIUS SCREAMS OUT. AT FIRST. BUT IN NO TIME HE IS WEAVING THAT
INCREASINGLY REDENNED ASS AGAIN, THRUSTING IT OUT TO MEET HIS FATHER'S
STROKES. BOTH DICKS ARE AT MAXIMUM ENGORGEMENT AND FLAT TO THE STOMACH.
THE COLONEL THROWS THE FLOGGER ASIDE AND SEIZES THE NAKED BOY IN
HIS ARMS. HE PLUNGES HIS DICK UP HIS SON'S CUNT AND RABBIT FUCKS HIM
SAVAGELY. DARIUS ROARS OUT HIS APPROVAL, AUDIBLE ABOVE THE ALARMS, AND HIS
DICK DETONATES, SPRAYING CUM UP HIS ABS, ONTO HIS CHEST, AND ALL OVER HIS
OWN FACE.
THE COLONEL GIVES A SIMILAR ROAR AS HE UNLOADS INSIDE HIS SON.
AS THEIR ORGASMS SUBSIDE, SON PUTS HIS HEAD BACK TO FATHER AND THEY
FRENCH KISS, STILL CONNECTED ASS TO DICK.
MOMENTS LATER, THE COLONEL'S HIPS BEGIN TO PUMP INTO HIS SON AGAIN
AS HE RECOVERS HIS STRENGTH. SON'S DICK SPRINGS BACK TO LIFE AND THE BOY
MEETS HIS FATHER'S THRUSTS.)
(SPONTANEOUS APPLAUSE BREAKS OUT IN THE PRESENTATION AREA.)
Thank you, gentlemen, you're too kind. And so, you observe, the
urge to fuck overwhelms the urge to escape.
(SEXUAL BEHAVIORIST: Remarkable achievement. Remarkable. I'm
particularly impressed by the effect of the drug on the colonel, completely
overiding his sense of decency.)
Well that's very kind of you, Dr Plumpton - but the colonel didn't
receive the drug.
(CONFUSED RESPONSES.)
Only the boy got dosed with Formula 51. The father just thought he
had.
(CIA ROGUE: So then... the father...)
...merely received the placebo. Yes.
What he just did to his son...
That was all him.
(STUNNED SILENCE.)
And so, gentlemen...
Who would like to be the first to tell him?
(SCHULTZ CHUCKLES. ALMOST LIKE A COMIC BOOK SUPERVILLAIN.)