The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I-Toys

By William Lee

IV—

Dross’s naked sagging body—covered with wisps of greying curly hair—and his outrageously large cock spurting gobs of semen filled the player’s stage.

I had already fast-forwarded through about fifty minutes of Dross alternately jacking off and sucking on the tip of his cock. The I-toy had let him come an amazing twelve times—he had never lost his erection. And he swallowed.

Finally, he was speaking.

“Hommard, I don’t have any time so I’ll get straight to the point.” He said, labored. It was funny to hear him say that after he’d sucked down his own come for almost an hour.

“You’ve seen the Integration Tool Y, or I-toy, in action. By the time you see this I’ll probably be reduced to a masturbating machine—and I’m sorry you’ll probably see that. I just can’t help myself.”

Like I couldn’t tell.

“Let me finish!” He shouted to nobody in particular, slowing his masturbation. “It feels so good, Hommard. . . . Well, I’m the one that disabled the girls in the playroom—your Neuron wouldn’t have done anything at all to them.”

Part of the mystery solved.

“And I did it because I sensed an opportunity. My I-toy couldn’t get a full grip on my CAT because I’d had it hardened to prevent hijacking. But it will. And I need an outsider, someone like you, to stop all of this.” He raised his cock so I could see it fully, see the glistening scaffolding of the I-toy that ringed his shaft and balls.

“Sorry . . . " He said. Another twenty-five minutes of fast-forwarding and an episode where his fist ended up in his ass later, Dross continued.

“My apologies, Hommard. It’s all consuming while it’s reprotocoling the CAT. You know, you can feel your mind going with every orgasm, with every act of self-perversion? Nevermind—you know.”

I did know. Stimmed and reprotocoled right onto my back—but I nearly lost my mind when the memories came back, not when I had a dildo the size of a small city rammed into my ass.

“My involvement is so very vague, now. I developed an improved sychro for the P-nerve combines. To keep the neural probes from being rejected by the CAT? I received the specs through several accounts—and was paid the same way. It only took me about a month to complete my contract. That was about four months ago. It’s all on the Datasocket.”

He tried to look as serious as possible while he slid both hands over his cock, milking it. It would’ve been funny—if it weren’t destroying the man.

“It was by chance that I had the opportunity to let you in on this—I’m in charge of the local Meatmaking operation. Not by choice, but by reprotocoling. Dammit!” He gritted his teeth and, again, took another thirty minutes of unreal sexual self-stimulation.

His I-toy was aggressive—I could swear it was unfolding inside his body every time he came. Slow increments of consummation.

“Sorry, again,” he said, “but I’ve already wired the payment to a special account. You can take the money and run, Hommard. But we know that won’t work. After all, they’ll know soon enough what I’ve done. Probably by the time you’re seeing this.”

Indeed.

“I know the kind of work you do—and I know what happened to you with the CAT IUs.” He paused. “I was lucky you happened to be on the roof—and that you’re curious.” He started to stroke in earnest again.

“The information you need to get the money is encrypted on this Datasocket. I won’t remember it so it can’t be extracted—later.”

He was fighting himself now, fighting to keep his lips away from his ripe, purple cockhead.

“Stop it—find the source of the I-toys and stop them.” He said.

I just might be able to do that—although I was already probably dead, or, worse, Meat.

“And please, please kill me if you get the chance.”

I just might be able to do that, too. But I figured that Dross was getting what he deserved.

If I was really nice, I’d pull his plug—it depended on how much he’d decided to pay me.