Thirsty Old Men

A word to the wise: This is a work of complete fiction. Never happened in

real life. I don't condone rape. This is a fantasy about a young

(straight) man who is pleasured against his will. If you have a problem

with this (in fantasy as well as in real life) then I suggest you stop

reading here and now. Please know that emails sent about the content of

the story in this regard will be deleted hastily. Constructive feedback

is, however, most welcome!

Thank you,

TRK

*

Previously...

Davenport's breathing escalated and he hunched forward. He grunted and his eyes widened as his asshole began to twitch uncontrollably, fucking the prostate massager in and out of his ass more rapidly. "Oh...what's happening in my ass?!"

Dr. Clancy realized that Davenport should have cum by that point. Then it hit him.

'What If the effects of The Capacitor are contagious?'

he thought. Without further thought, he shouted to Davenport, "Cum, Charles!"

Davenport's clutch on the grab bar tightened and the metal actually bent in his grasp. He squeezed his eyes closed, took a deep breath, and came with a roar. His cum flooded the inner cylinder and after a few short seconds, the force of the flood of semen pushed the pump off of Davenport's cock. He shot jet after jet of thick cum into the air and there didn't seem to be any signs of slowing.

"Urrrrrrrrrgh! Uh! It feels so GOOOOOOODDD!" Davenport cried out.

"What do you feel?" Dr. Clancy asked, grabbing up his note pad and scribbling furiously.

Davenport moaned a few more times before he could answer in a quaking voice that was broken by several grunts. "I can feel....it. My...cum...shooting up my cock...I can feel it...licking out of...my piss hole! I can feel...everything! AGH! UGH! UGGGHHHH!!!!!"

Davenport and Gareth screamed in unison as their dicks pumped endless volleys of cum -- Gareth's into the nearly full receptacle at the end of the tube, and Davenport's into an ever-expanding puddle on the floor between his feet.

"Looks like we're going to need another jock, aye Doc?" a deep, slightly accented voice sounded from the stairs.

Dr. Clancy jumped and so did Marshall, the lower half of his face damp from the attentions he'd still been lavishing on Gareth's balls.

"Alrik Ericsson," the man introduced himself, "and I am

very

intrigued."

Chapter 3

"I'm doubtful that

every

man will be willing to ingest the semen of another man," Alrik Ericsson said, popping a beer nut into his mouth. "We'll need to find a way to put it in pill form, or at the very least make it an injection."

He, Davenport, and Dr. Clancy were meeting Jacob Cutledge at a sports bar at the center of town. It had been 24 hours since Ericsson and Cutledge had seen the effects of The Capacitor on Gareth as well the effects his cum had on Davenport. Though Cutledge had arrived as the session was winding down, he'd seen enough to pique his interest.

Alrik Ericsson, on the other hand, was completely on board and had already committed $500,000 to fund more research. The tall Swede, a man in his early fifties, was everything you'd expect a refined Viking to be. His broad-shouldered, well-muscled body was still ripped, but his closely coiffed blonde hair and neatly trimmed goatee gave him an air of quiet sophistication. His impeccably pressed black slacks hugged the contours of his sculpted ass just right, and his pale button-down brought out the color of his ice blue eyes perfectly.

"Agreed," Jacob Cutledge muttered, taking a seat next to Ericsson. "Sorry I'm late. Crisis at home."

Davenport chuckled. "The wife tried to burn your kitchen down again?"

Cutledge laughed and shook his head. "No, but she found my credit card. Honestly, who buys $14,000 in shoes in one day?" He ran a hand through his longish brown hair in obvious frustration. At 47 years of age, Jacob Cutledge was the youngest man in the group. He rarely ventured far from his life in Silicon Valley, but he couldn't pass up this opportunity. He and his 25 year-old wife, Jessica, had been trying to have a baby but so far had been unsuccessful. After the tests came back showing that it was his swimmers and not her eggs that were causing the problem, they'd tried just about every method modern medicine could offer without any luck. Then, he heard through a friend that Davenport, the heir to one of America's largest pharmaceutical fortunes, was developing a cutting edge treatment. He was skeptical at first, but after one phone conversation with Davenport he was decided that it couldn't hurt to come out to Atlanta and see this 'miracle' cure for himself.

"It's enough to make you want to go gay," Ericsson replied cheekily.

Cutledge slapped him on the back. "That's what happened to you, isn't it? You can talk about, we're all friends here."

All four men had a good laugh about that because it was partially true. Ericsson had spent nearly thirty years married to a gold digging witch before he'd come out of the closet just five years earlier.

"Well, we all know why I'm here," Cutledge said once they'd all stopped laughing. "What brings you to the Deep South, Ericsson?"

The Swede took a long drink from his beer before answering. "It's quite simple really. I've never experienced erectile dysfunction or impotence. As you know, Ingrid and I have three children, so I've had no problems in that area. It's just that, well," he lowered his voice further, "I've always been a one-shot shooter."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Cutledge asked with a frown.

Ericsson rolled his eyes. "It means exactly what it sounds like. When I cum, I'm lucky if I can get one good shot out. There's nothing I love more in this world than the feeling of a good, strong orgasm, but mine have always been so short. As I'm getting older, it's taking me longer and longer to cum. I'm tired of jacking it for an hour only to cum for ten seconds. I'm interested in longevity here."

With a doubtful expression, Cutledge turned to the doctor. "And it's possible to...to...fix that?"

"I think," Dr. Clancy replied, "that it would be easier for me to show you rather than to try and explain it."

Cutledge still wasn't entirely convinced. "Well, what about my problem? Is this some kind of cure-all scam?"

Davenport shook his head. "Just give me tonight. If you're not totally blown away be the effects of this treatment, I'll pay for your return flight home

and

foot the bill for all those new shoes your wife think she needs."

"Just tonight," Cutledge said, an edge of warning his tone.

Davenport and the doctor nodded their understanding.

"So," Cutledge shrugged. "Shouldn't we be back at the lab or something? What are doing in a sports bar?"

Davenport shook his head. "Someone's meeting us here."

As if on cue, the front door of the restaurant swung open and a tall young man with a blonde all-over buzz cut strode in. He wore a pair of low-slung acid wash jeans and an orange short-sleeved polo with the collar popped up. A single diamond stud sparkled in one of his ears and his perfect white teeth shined as he flashed a dimpled smile at the hostess. Though young, he carried himself with the confidence of a born leader and you didn't have to be a student at Wolverton High to know that he was part of the 'In Crowd'.

The four men watched as the hostess pointed to their table and the young man thanked her with a wink and another charming smile.

"Mr. Davenport?" he asked when he arrived at their table.

"And you must be Bryce Duke," Davenport replied with a friendly smile, standing to shake his hand. "Please, have a seat."

Their waitress came by now that all five men were accounted for and took their drink orders. "Just water for me, thanks," Bryce said politely.

"You sure?" Davenport grinned. "We won't tell anyone if you have a few sips of something stronger. Besides, I didn't see you pull up in a car. You didn't drive, right?"

Bryce shook his head, "No, sir. I live right down the road, so I just walked here."

"Perfect," Dr. Clancy smiled, glad that they wouldn't have to worry about stashing a car.

The 18 year-old cast him a puzzled glance.

"Perfect," the doctor recovered quickly. "The weather's just so perfect for a stroll."

Bryce laughed. "I'll give ya that, but I would'a driven here if I could have. I just don't have a car yet."

"Well, that's just a piece of bad luck," Ericsson said, licking his lips as he looked the young jock over.

Davenport cleared his throat. "Maybe we can help with that, Bryce."

The handsome young blonde's eyes lit up. "You wanna give me a job? Like the one you gave Gare? Man, he told me how much you were payin' him just to help out at your place. I could do that!"

The waitress came back and set their drinks on the table as Davenport pulled an already filled-out check from his shirt pocket. He passed it across the table to Bryce, whose jaw dropped when he saw the figure.

While he was distracted by the check, Dr. Clancy slipped a small vial of white powder from his own shirt pocket and swiftly poured it into the jock's water. It dissolved quickly and would be tasteless when the jock took a sip. Cutledge and Ericsson raised their eyebrows at the doctor. "I'll explain later," he whispered.

"I think you made a mistake on here," Bryce was finally able to speak. "This is a check for twenty grand."

Davenport shook his head. "No mistake. Now, how about you order a

real

drink and we toast to your fortune."

Bryce didn't argue this time and once they'd waved the waitress back over he ordered a Rum & Coke.

"Now, here's what you'll be doing." Over the next quarter hour Davenport went through a list of fake job duties while he and the doctor waited for the drug to take effect.

It didn't take long.

"So, I'll just be lifting a bunch of heavy..." Bryce's words trailed off suddenly and he got a strange look in his eye. "Ugh," he grunted suddenly, jumping in his chair.

"Are you alright, kid," Cutledge asked, casting a suspicious glance at the doctor.

Bryce's face was flushed except for his cheeks, which were a soft shade of pink as he blushed. "Y-yeah. I'm ok. Just...whoa....WHOAH!" He reached out to grip the edge of the table and moaned quietly. "What the fuck?!" he exclaimed under his breath.

Davenport and the doctor exchanged knowing glances. Neither of them had to peer under the table to know that Bryce had just sprung an instant erection.

"Dude," Bryce muttered in disbelief, "what kind of rum

is

this?" He jumped again as his dick pulsed in his boxers, already leaking a copious flow of pre-cum that was soaking through to this jeans.

Davenport called the waitress over and handed her a $100 bill, more than enough to cover their drinks. "We're leaving," he told her in a quiet voice.

"Is he ok?" she asked, pointing to Bryce who was biting his lip and couldn't seem to keep still.

Dr. Clancy laughed, "I don't think our friend can handle his liquor."

After the waitress flounced off, giggling and stuffing the bill into the top of her shirt, Dr. Clancy turned his attention to Bryce. "You will follow us out to the truck without any questions," he told the jock.

Bryce's hand flew to his temple. When the doctor had spoken just then, it was like he could

feel

the words reverberating off the walls of his skull. He nodded and stood when they did, following them in obedient silence to Davenport's black Escalade.

Once they were all seated in the vehicle, Dr. Clancy ordered, "Sleep!" Instantly, Bryce was unconscious and slumped in the seat between Ericsson and Cutledge.

"What the fuck is going on here?!" Cutledge shouted, glaring angrily at the doctor.

Dr. Clancy turned around in the passenger seat to face them as Davenport pulled away from the restaurant. "Let's find out, shall we?" he replied in a voice giddy with excitement as he reached to the backseat and undid the zipper on Bryce's jeans. He felt around inside the open fly until his fingers delved into the jock's boxers. "Damn," he muttered once he had his dick in his hands. Ericsson and Cutledge watched in awe as the doctor pulled it out.

"Shit!" Ericsson exclaimed and turned sideways so he could get a better look at the massive cock head on.

It was just over 11 inches long and close to five inches thick, with a prominent chord on the underside and thick veins that ran from the base to just beneath the swollen pink head. The head itself was just a bit thicker than the shaft and the tip was shiny with the pre-cum that began pour out at a faster pace now that the doctor had made contact.

Cutledge, who was by all accounts a very straight man, looked on in fascination, his eyes hungrily taking in the sight. "What...How...?"

"The powder you saw me pour into his water," Dr. Clancy replied, answering the questions that Cutledge was too flustered to articulate. "That's how."

"What was it?" Cutledge asked, finally regaining his words as the doctor began to slowly the jack the young man's dick.

"A highly concentrated amount of the main ingredient in our serum," Clancy answered. "You see, I set aside some of Gareth's ejaculate just for this purpose. I've developed a device that quickly dries out the semen of our subjects which makes it portable and preserves the nutrients and enzymes we need. It also maintains the electromagnetic bonds The Capacitor has made with the cells, transmitting our ability to control the brain functions of each subject who takes the serum in."

"Meaning," Davenport explained as he eyed them through the rearview mirror, "that we can control him just as controlled Gareth without the need to connect him to The Capacitor. He'll do anything we tell him to."

The doctor nodded. "And he doesn't even need to be conscious for our efforts to be effective."

To prove his point, Dr. Clancy issued an Order. "Cum, Bryce!"

The young jock, still unconscious, arched his back and moaned. His dick thickened in the doctor's hands and pulsed wildly before spurting an arc of thick white cum into the air. It hit the ceiling, where it stuck. Bryce moaned again, preparing to issue another volley of cum when the doctor removed his hand from the young cock and Ordered, "Stop!"

His dick seemed to freeze mid pulse, then began to tremble, seemingly seizing in response to the ruined orgasm. Bryce whimpered helplessly and rolled his hips, frantically searching for release even in sleep.

"See?" Dr. Clancy smiled. "Completely at our command."

"Is this hurting him?" Ericsson asked, staring at the pulsing monster, his mouth watering.

The doctor shook his head. "On the contrary, you see. He's stuck on the precipice of a massive orgasm, so close to cumming that he can probably feel the cum in his tubes.

"Can I touch him?" Ericsson begged.

"Yes, but carefully. We don't want to accidentally set him off," the doctor replied.

Cutledge crossed his arms and glared. "But I thought you had complete control over him? If you've told him not to cum then he shouldn't cum, right?"

"Not necessarily. If we push him over the edge, his body's response to the stimulation could be strong enough to override the influence of The Capacitor's effects, and there are...consequences to that happening," Dr. Clancy divulged ominously.

"Consequences?" Davenport asked. This was news to him.

Dr. Clancy nodded as Ericsson touched his index finger to the very tip of Bryce's dick and swirled it in the bit of cum that remained at his piss slit. Bryce groaned as his cock jerked and a mixture of cum and pre-cum bubbled forth.

"Yes," the doctor answered. "If The Capacitor's commands are overridden, the subject would temporarily be free of its influence, unresponsive to new Orders. He would only retain obedience to those commands that resulted in the continuation of pleasure." At the blank stares of the three other men, he tried to clarify. "He would continue cumming until we could once again issue the command for a 'cease-fire', if you will. And while free of The Capacitor's influence he might pursue...other ways of achieving and maintaining his pleasure."

"What are you saying?" Ericsson asked nervously, snatching his hand away from Bryce's twitching dick.

Dr. Clancy sighed and glanced reluctantly at Davenport.

"What aren't you telling me, Clancy?" Davenport sneered.

"This isn't the first time I've tried these experiments," the doctor began. "

But,

it is the first time I've been this successful in transmitting the potency of once subject's semen to another person. It's also the first time that I've gone so far into the experiment without the negative reactions that come with an override of The Capacitor."

Cutledge reached forward and grabbed the doctor by the arm. "You're tell us that you haven't done this without fucking it up?!"

Dr. Clancy nodded and hurriedly told the story. "Two years ago, I was contracted by the military to conduct these same experiments on a young marine from Kentucky. I'd issued the Order that he wasn't to cum until I granted permission, but I pushed him too far. I left him hooked up to a high frequency milking machine overnight. When I came in the next morning, he was on the verge of an orgasm. I got greedy and wanted to see what would happen if I turned the milker's suction up. I added more lube, stuck a prostate massager up his ass, and turned the damn thing up. But I didn't issue the command for him to cum."

"What happened?" Ericsson asked breathlessly, palming the tent in his slacks.

After a brief hesitation, the doctor continued. "He came anyway...violently. I've never seen anything like it. The cum shot out of his dick like it was a fire hose, a constant spray of semen. He screamed in agonized pleasure while his cock pumped the stuff out for close to two hours. I couldn't get close to him to take the cylinder off because he was thrashing so madly, he could've killed me. When he finally passed out and the flow slowed to a trickle, I undid his bonds." The doctor shook his head slowly. "I thought it was over, but I stayed with him for the rest of the day anyway because I wanted to make sure he was ok. Close to seven that evening he woke up moaning, and when he looked at me his eyes were crazy. Something told me to get the Hell out of there, so I got up, locked the door behind me, and ran.

"When I came back two days later, the door to the lab was dented in several places but still locked. I listened from outside and when I didn't hear anything, I went in. My lab was a mess. I mean, it was like the Incredible Hulk had gone on a rampage attacking the place. And there he was, flat on his back in the middle of the room...dick still hard and pumping a weak flow of cum onto the floor. There were six broken Fleshlights, fourteen empty bottles of lube, and every dildo I had in the place scattered all around him -- they'd all been used."

Ericsson, Cutledge, and Davenport had all been stunned into silence. In fact, the only sounds anyone could hear were Bryce's tortured, unfulfilled moans and the rumble of the tires as they rolled over the brick driveway of Davenport's mansion.

When the Escalade came to a stop, Dr. Clancy looked at the others. "Look, I know you guys probably need to talk this over, so I'll be inside prepping Gareth and setting up for Bryce. If and when you're ready, just command him to wake up and come on down to the basement."

Even once the doctor was gone, it took them a minute to find their words. "What are we doing?" Cutledge pondered, still struggling to avert his gaze from Bryce's cock.

Ericsson shook his head. "I don't know...I just don't know."

"You're not thinking of pulling your funds, are you, Alrik?" Davenport's tone was worried.