Chapter Text
The Nevadian landscape rings with silence, other than the presence of gun fires and yells from areas here and there.
The violence especially becomes active when a certain man is around. That man, to who you perhaps ask, is named Hank J. Wimbleton. This dude even has an entire agency against him, constantly hunting him down until he’s gone for good. That hasn’t happened, and it’s probably inappropriate to put in ‘yet’. He’s constantly brought back to life.
He’s an unstoppable force, even with those that can handle him in the same way.
Maybe. There’s a clever way to capture him… but, what?
Let’s say, it starts with the mission. Hank has split away from Deimos and Sanford, which is pretty normal. He has often fought alone. After all, it’s just one task. Maybe it’s a trap.
Hank’s unaware of that. In fact, he probably never thinks when he’s out and fighting. A mind full of murder and violence, typical for somebody who’s in current day Nevada. Hank’s considered the most notorious. There has to be some sort of weakness to him.
As he rampages, a few bodies are left behind. There aren’t as many agents around here, probably far more on Deimos and Sanford’s side. That doesn’t matter to Hank, as there was already enough agent slaughter for his share… maybe not too satisfying yet. He keeps prowling about.
As if the lack of agents was strange enough, he ended up in a more bright place as he continued. Far more technology coated the gray walls. There weren’t any screens, and if there was to be, they were already shattered by Hank. It was all strange glowing wires, whatever else. Hank had to continue, in spite of his growing suspicion. He’s never seen a place like this before, let alone if it could be something from the A.A.H.W. Whatever it is, it must be destroyed.
Hank advanced, searching for the source, if there was one. He feels something moving from below, stopping at his tracks. He stands alert to watch and see what could be coming.
This distraction alone would end up being a trap, as he was grabbed from behind. Hank immediately lashed out, trying to stab whatever was behind him. He’d be grabbed by the legs and pulled up, leaving him upside down. His weapon had been dropped by then. Hank squirmed and struggled, noticing it was tentacles that had restrained him.
The tentacles flipped up Hank, holding his arms down and self-tying both of his legs open. Hank growled in protest, still trying to move out of their grip. It felt so tight.
A screen with green text lowered down to Hank’s face.
“Good Morning, Wimbleton..”
The question of how it knows his name is already pretty obvious; he’s well-known across Nevada. Perhaps there has been something stalking him. They knew he was here from the start.
Hank grumbled as he glared at the bright screen before him, emitting a growl. He continued to move about, despite the tight grip from the tentacles. Even then, the feelers were fairly nosy. There were tentacles already sliding under his clothes, feeling his chest and behind, as with undressing him. The mercenary drooled, spacing out from the touches the tentacles provided. Yet, he refused to let it get to him, as he struggled once more. His blushing was still obvious. His pants had been pulled down, showing his thick cock.
Processing… Goggle Exposure.
What?
Just by a flash, a spiral focused on Hank’s gaze. He tried to look away, but the tentacles positioned his head to look forward. It was oddly hard to blink, he couldn’t stop staring. Hank flinched, and slowly paused with any struggling movements. If it wasn’t for his goggles, you could see his eyes narrowing, spirals forming inside. Even the spirals began to show on the glass of his eyewear, as with a firm glow.
Process complete. Hypnosis in Action. Proceed to Pleasure.
This feeling, he couldn’t even think. He felt pleased, the tentacles proceeding to rub his inner thigh area. His erection grew, the tentacles moving closer to his balls. They made their way up to his cock, softly stroking it. His anus wasn’t safe, either, being rubbed by a thick tentacle. Hank groaned as his asshole puckered, begging to be pounded.
Precum dripped from Hank’s tip. A tentacle moved up to slide against the opening of Hank’s urethra, before widening itself to a more tubular shape. It advances, sucking on the mercenary’s mass. Hank let out a pleasured groan, feeling the tentacle’s wetness cover his sensitive cock. The thick feeler penetrated Hank’s anus, going in deep and massaging his prostate as it thrusted.
Hank’s mind grew blank, submitting to the pleasure given to him. The tentacles felt good, delighting his private parts and massaging his body. He let out grumbles, throwing his head back and sweating. He felt the tentacles quicken their own pace mercilessly, leaving him flinching and groaning more.
The thick tentacle penetrating him went further to where there was a bump in Hank’s stomach. It continued to thrust in and out, quickening its pace as Hank spewed out more precum. The tentacle sucking him off did the same with speeding up, going up to his balls, which another tentacle was fondling. Hank felt his mind growing blank, only focusing on each thrust and the sexual attention the tentacles were giving him. He opened his mouth as he moaned. He was quickly silenced, though, through some sort of gag. It looked like half of a gas mask on him, a dildo placed inside being the silencer.
Either way, he fell prisoner to the gratification. Dizzy, almost to the point of blacking out if it wasn’t for the hypnosis. He’s just about to cum.
The large tentacle is already pumping him up with its liquid, filling him. Hank, too, had released his fluids into the tentacle sucking him off. It willingly gulped it all up. He trembled as the tentacles were released from his private parts.
You will obey us, Hank J. Wimbleton.
He felt something stick to his body. The tentacles stripped him down even further, removing all traces of clothing that wasn’t on his head or face. Hank looked down, seeing what looked like liquid but also latex. It was shiny and black, perfectly placed onto his body. It began with his legs.
“Mhhhff..”
Hank let out a muffled moan, as the liquid wrapped around his crotch to form what looked like a chastity cage. Another layer covered it, a bright red symbol of a lock forming onto it. The liquid latex continued onto the rest of his body, even forming a jacket similar to the one Hank wore for extra fanciness on him. Doesn’t help there were other details added onto him, including pooltoy handles on his hips and back. His anus was left exposed.
He was let go. Hank began rubbing his nullified bulge, letting out huffs.
You are our drone. You will obey every command given to you.
Hank just nodded, the spirals presented on his goggles swirling.
Good boy. Now, go get the others. They, too, shall become our drones.
The drone nodded, heading towards the direction he came from. With Sanford and Deimos alert, he’ll have to be tactful.