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As usual, if you'd like a story written on your behalf, feel free to send me a PM. ", "writing": "Abdollah grimaced at Mr. Badd’s words even before he felt the dragon’s claws sink in the firm flesh of his buttocks. The fabric of his jeans might as well have been paper against the sharp, immaculately manicured talons at the end of each of Badd’s fingers. He was not gentle and, like his business, there was a distinct lack of subtlety in how he groped Abdollah.\n\n\nIt wasn’t uncommon for superheroes to keep their intimate lives private. Whether that was for security reasons, making sure that their partners would not become the target of villains, or simply to have a place to relax after a difficult day or stressful encounter. Abdollah was no different; and over the years, the jackal had taken on many partners.\n\n\nAdjusting to his new environment had taken Abdollah quite a bit of time when he had first Arrived on Earth. Life was different here. The vast majority of the population had very little power and, as a result, their destinies were, ultimately, meaningless. Yet, that brought a freedom to pursue and enjoy any of the many frivolous pleasures that life had to offer. For someone blessed with power, such as Abdollah, that had never been the case.\n\n\nWritten in the sands and entrails was a destined lover. Somewhere, back on his home world, was another half of Abdollah’s whole who, now that they had been separated by nothing more than a cosmic phenomenon, would forever be incomplete.\n\n\nWas the irony lost on Abdollah? Not really. How could destiny be derailed by coincidence? A mere chance of a chance. Scientists on Earth had studied and debated why the momentary convergence between planes had occurred. Abdollah was certain that the other mystics back home would have done the same. On Earth, wild theories flew as numerous as the sands of the deserts where Abdollah spent his youth. Yet, no real answers came. They did not understand, as Abdollah did, that there was, in fact, no reason to be found. It happened simply because it could, and enough time had passed where the possibility could no longer be ignored. It was inevitable. Even a destiny such as Abdollah’s, woven deeply through the fabric of time and space, was nothing before the certainty of the event.\n\n\nIt was, ultimately, his loss. He was left, then, to come to terms with the fact that life would move on without him being on the path he was meant to. He could only hope that this destined lover, whoever he might have been, could do the same.\n\n\nAs for other lovers, however, Abdollah had taken his pick. It did not take him long to realize that on Earth, the aesthetics of his body were desirable. And, like many, he had attempted to fill that empty space with men who had all whispered into his ear, just as Badd did, about how they found his rear end almost irresistible.\n\n\nAbdollah felt the point of Mr. Badd’s claw sink dangerously into the fork of his legs. He pressed the pad at the tip of his middle finger firmly between Abdollah’s cheeks, invading his most intimate areas until he could feel the warmth that spread from his entrance. His thumb and forefinger pinched as much firm flesh as they could. Abdollah could practically hear the wordless grin spreading over Badd’s teeth as he humiliated and humbled the Truth-Speaker.\n\n\nWhatever attempts Abdollah could make to stop Mr. Badd from having his way seemed futile. His body had grown rigid. It was almost as though his muscle fibers had been drawn tight throughout the length of his legs and he couldn’t do so much as bend them, far less for retaliating against the encroaching fingers.\n\n\nHis hands remained balled as fists, which would have been useful if he had managed to bring them in contact with Mr. Badd’s face. However, his arms remained at his side now, snapped at attention much like his other friends and Badd’s bodyguard, Duke, had. Maintaining this posture presented an insane level of strain on Abdollah’s body, yet his mind seemed more at ease the less he fought against this newly-established default position. Though he had managed to resist the initial brunt of the hypnotic ray’s effects, his will could only provide resistance for so long. Slowly, as though tendrils creeping into the cracks in Abdollah’s psyche, the influence compelled him to submit.\n\n\nMr. Badd clicked his tongue. “Don’t fight it. I expect obedience. That is why I invented my laser in the first place. Your friends have already submitted. You will not be able to resist much longer.” With those words, his grip on Abdollah’s ass tightened. This time, he could not hide his glee as the Jackal released a snarl.\n\n\nThe edges of Abdollah’s lips curled, exposing his sharp teeth, as he exerted himself. He thought the grimace menacing but as he caught sight of himself in the sleek reflections that surrounded the office, he saw that his face had been contorted into the same unnatural smile that now covered the faces of all who had succumbed to the Badd Laser.\n\n\n“Duke,” Mr. Badd said quickly, “I want you to take care of this one personally.” With a snap of the fingers of his free hand, a group of visored individuals filed into the room. No villain was complete without his legion of faceless henchmen. Abdollah was not intimidated by the display of manpower. However, the visors that the henchmen wore only covered the upper half of the henchmen’s faces. The lower halves displayed their exposed mouths, each with flashing rows of fully-bared teeth indicating that they were under Badd’s full control.\n\nThey moved completely in sync with one another, as though direct instructions had been beamed directly into their minds. Their double-file march split into different groups as they attended to each of the subdued heroes, stripping them of their clothing without any mind being paid to their individual shame. Though they went about their duties in an efficient manner, the henchmen moved oddly. Their legs never bent at the knee, even as they unfastened the lacings of Chester’s sneakers or used a pair of large scissors to cut away the fabric around Hank’s ankles. In fact, they seemed almost intent on carrying out the most mundane tasks in as abnormal a manner as possible. Simply looking at how their bodies bent and twisted made Abdollah’ already-sore muscles ache even more.\n\n\nDuke approached where Abdollah stood. He, too, moved unnaturally. What Abdollah had initially mistaken for awkwardness now carried the tell-tale signs of Badd’s influence. \n\nMr Badd continued. “Abdollah here is an issue, but not a large one. In fact, I’m curious to know whether he would be able to give feedback on what it’s like to go through the process.” The manner in which Badd stressed the final two words made Abdollah’s skin crawl. As he had spoken to Duke, however, his grip on the jackal had relaxed ever so slightly. “Once we’re underway with the new line of product, I’ll let our most loyal customers know that there’s fresh - “\n\n\nAbdollah turned on the spot to face Badd. Abdollah had not thought it possible but whatever little color was in the ivory scales of the dragon’s face drained as his eyes went wide. At that moment, Abdollah might have hesitated. Clearly, Mr. Badd had never imagined that someone would or could resist the effects of his hypnosis. He had been careless, and as Abdollah raised his arm in a mighty fist, he seemed almost pitiable. \n\n\nAlmost.\n\n\nThere had been many villains Abdollah had been forced to fight. Whether it by magic or by his fists, they all seemed, at the end of the day, rather small outside of their grandiose machinations. Abdollah steeled his resolve as he always did. His power, ultimately, resided in the great words and truths from which he drew his strength. His fists were strong, but not enough to destroy a dragon in a single blow. Dislocating his jaw, however, was another matter entirely, and it was completely within the scope of Abdollah’s abilities.\n\n\nHowever, Abdollah’s fist never made contact with Mr. Badd’s face. Fast as an arrow, Duke’s red-scaled arm caught on to the Jackal’s wrist. Mr. Badd fell backwards, knocking over several of his own henchmen, before he landed on the tiled floor with a heavy thud. Badd’s legs played out before him while his long tail curled behind to protect itself from the stomping underlings that busied about.\n\n\nFor all they were worth, the henchmen seemed not to be bothered by the scene unfolding around them. They continued with their duties and any that came into the area where Mr. Badd fell, they either stepped around him took comically large steps to pass over his legs or tail, giving them the impression of soldiers on a jackbooted march.\n\n\nSimilarly, Mr. Badd paid no mind to his henchmen, though he seemed to be proud of Duke’s ability to stop Abdollah’s punch. “Well, well!” he said, rubbing his jaw between his thumb and pointer as though nursing the blow that never landed, “that was close. Very cool of you, Abdollah!”\n\n\nBadd smiled and clapped both hands together before pushing himself to his feet. “Duke, teach our friend here a lesson in obedience. Maybe he will be more willing to cooperate after you introduce him to the floor!”\n\n\nAlmost robotically, Duke’s arm pulled back, causing Abdollah to cry out in pain. A moment later, he was tossed over the dragon’s shoulder and he performed an involuntary somersault until his back came into contact with the ground and all the air was knocked out of his lungs.\n\n\nAbdollah saw stars. He wanted to contort in pain but couldn’t even do that as his ankles and heels seemed almost glued together. Consciousness seemed to fade in and out, though each time the darkness cleared from around the edges of his vision, he seemed to have less and less of a grasp on the reality of his situation.\n\n\nDuke perched both feet besides Abdollah’s midriff and doubled over at the waist without so much as bending his knees in the slightest. He was strong enough to lift Abdollah from the ground, grabbing handfuls of fabric in his taloned fists hoisting with all of the weight supported by his lower back. The fabric screamed as it tore, leaving Abdollah’s little more than shredded bits of garb but Duke made no sound that indicated any effort at all. As a matter of fact, he placed the slumped form of the statuesque jackal on his shoulder and bore the weight much like a laborer with a full bag of cement in tote.\n\n\n“Good job. Good job!” Mr. Badd said. His praise was unneeded as it was unclear whether Duke had even been aware of what had happened between himself and Abdollah. “That’s good, Duke.” \n\n\nBadd brought himself to his feet and walked to where the dragon stood with Abdollah slung over his shoulder. The rest of the heroes had been stripped naked, Darby included, and were now organized in single file to be marched out of the office.\n\n\nAbdollah drifted in and out of consciousness. He was aware of being carried down a hallway, then a series of stairs to a lift near what he imagined was the back of the complex. They exited after moving downward and the still, cool air made it obvious that they were in a tunnel of some sort and Duke carried him while walking in lockstep with the dozen-and-a-half henchmen that accompanied them. \n\n\nIt was a strange sight, seeing the naked heroes march perfectly in time with the footfalls of heavy boots. The pace and rhythm gave the posse an almost musical nature to their procession, keeping a steady beat that pounded into Abdollah’s ears each time he drifted towards lucidity.\n\n\n\n\n****\n\n\n\n\nAbdollah awoke not quite himself. He was first aware of the coldness at his back. He felt the chill extending across his limbs and wrapped around his wrists and ankles. There was discomfort, but he experienced it as though he was merely aware of not being comfortable. As though he could only register the fact, but not react to it.\n\n\nHis vision was blurry. Clarity came in pulses, accompanied by the throbbing of a headache that felt as though it had gone on, untreated, for far too long. He could see, due to the high ceiling, that he was in a large room. Some sort of warehouse, perhaps, or maybe a factory. \n\n\nAs each moment passed, Abdollah slowly regained his lucidity. He understood now that he was in pain. Not sharp, nor was it unbearable. He felt as though he was in the aftermath of one of the most rigorous workouts he had ever experienced. Every muscle in his legs, lower back and torso felt as though they had been stretched to the maximum and pushed to their utmost limit. \n\n\nHe was also now aware that he had been strapped to what resembled a large examination table. Several bright lights bore down on Abdollah, but they weren’t for his benefit. All around him, Badd’s henchmen marched. He was able to turn his head just enough that he could see several other examination tables beside his. Most were unfilled but the one nearest him was not, and upon it was Chester. \n\n\nChester was on all fours, not restrained as Abdollah had been. His knees and elbows were planted upon the cold metal of the table, however, as though he was in a half-plank that he maintained with a steady grin. Chester was in-shape, and Abdollah didn’t need to see his lithe, naked body to know that. However, the quivering in his muscles betrayed his potential exhaustion. How long had Chester been in that position? How long had Abdollah truly been unconscious? He didn’t know.\n\n\nAs the thought crossed his mind he felt a set of hands upon his body. Badd’s henchmen had surrounded him, a pair now stood on each side, but Abdollah hadn’t noticed their approach. Even as they busied themselves - prodding and poking at this naked form - he could barely feel their ministrations. \n\n\nAbdollah attempted to struggle but found his efforts futile. Even the most herculean effort went nowhere; his will could not surpass whatever suppressive effect that Mr. Badd’s device had inflicted upon him.\n\n\nHe was only vaguely aware of what happened next. What he did manage to grasp about his experience on Badd’s assembly line felt distant, as though he viewed it through a foggy lens. It was clear that what was happening to Abdollah were events playing out in real time, but he was as helpless to influence his experience as the audience in a movie theater.\n\n\nSometimes Abdollah seemed to black out - losing minutes at a time - and when he came to, it was as it the lull in his thoughts caught up to his senses, giving the world an oddly-paced ‘fast forward’ effect.\n\n\nHe knew Chester was gone. The cheetah having been seen by several henchmen and the platform upon which he rested rolled out of the room without so much as a hint of protest. Adollah was no different. When all that needed to be checked had been put in order, he was hurried out of the room, still strapped by the wrists and ankles.\n\n\nIt was difficult to recall what he saw. There was Hank, seen through a set of exposed double-doors as Abdollah was wheeled past. The gator was stripped naked and seemed to be doing some sort of intense exercise. Abdollah only caught a glimpse but he could see that Hank’s already-massive muscles seemed to bulge under his scales as the strenuous pace engorged them with blood. It was an effect that Abdollah had only witnessed while Hank was in the middle of his most intense battles; and it usually coincided with destruction of public infrastructure reaching several blocks away. Here, though, it seemed under perfect control. At least, the building remained standing.\n\n\nAbdollah drifted into a daze once more. He remembered seeing Olis. He saw, for a moment, Chester in the location he was taken, still on all fours with a henchman snapping into place a large, latex glove that covered all the way to the elbow standing behind him. Then, when he came to, he was in a room on his own.\n\n\nHe was no longer strapped down but he was in no better position to help himself. Even if he could command his body to move, his legs were in stirrups and lifted high with his legs spread apart.\n\n\nBetween his legs stood three henchmen. Like all others, the top of their faces were obscured by visors but they dressed in medical overalls. They seemed to work together seamlessly, communicating without words as they put Abdollah through what Mr. Badd had described as ‘the process’.\n\n\nAbdollah could feel them at work. Two of the henchmen used gloved hands, slathered in a warm lubricant or some kind of ointment, to massage the jackal’s manhood. He knew they were touching him but like every other muscle in his body, he was helpless to stop the reaction from his organ.\n\n\nHe swelled and grew as the four hands grasped and stroked his sizable shaft. Even when he was fully engorged, they continued to touch him. They pulled on his rod, squeezing it, stroking it, placing firm pressure in the places Abdollah had only been touched by his most intimate of partners.\n\n\nYet, they were not satisfied.\n\n\nOne hand moved lower to lift his swollen gonads and another lower still to press a lubricated finger against Abdollah’s anus. The shame was not at all reflected on Abdollah’s face, though he felt it. He felt it more when the finger curled into a wicked hook and pressed against his prostate, causing his already-erect cock to grow so stiff that he feared it would burst on the spot. Only then did they seem pleased with how he presented.\n\n\nAfterwards, a long tube was brought forward. Inside, Abdollah could see a grey putty, similar to rubbery cement in texture. The thick substance was so viscous that it barely moved, even as the tube was inverted and Abdollah’s steel was thrust into the mold. \n\n\nThe pressure was intense. There was hardly any space in the container to begin with, but his swollen cock pressed into it as though forming an air-tight seal. All the while, the finger toyed with Abdollah’s prostate and his unnatural arousal continued, as though his body fought every instinct to spill his seed.\n\n\nAbdollah’s face remained still but inside his brain was on fire. He had never felt such shame and neither had he felt such intense, all-consuming arousal. It was enough to drive him deep into the corners of his own mind and, from somewhere far above the devilish floors of Mr. Badd’s workshop, the white-scaled dragon watched.", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Abdollah grimaced at Mr. Badd’s words even before he felt the dragon’s claws sink in the firm flesh of his buttocks. The fabric of his jeans might as well have been paper against the sharp, immaculately manicured talons at the end of each of Badd’s fingers. He was not gentle and, like his business, there was a distinct lack of subtlety in how he groped Abdollah.


It wasn’t uncommon for superheroes to keep their intimate lives private. Whether that was for security reasons, making sure that their partners would not become the target of villains, or simply to have a place to relax after a difficult day or stressful encounter. Abdollah was no different; and over the years, the jackal had taken on many partners.


Adjusting to his new environment had taken Abdollah quite a bit of time when he had first Arrived on Earth. Life was different here. The vast majority of the population had very little power and, as a result, their destinies were, ultimately, meaningless. Yet, that brought a freedom to pursue and enjoy any of the many frivolous pleasures that life had to offer. For someone blessed with power, such as Abdollah, that had never been the case.


Written in the sands and entrails was a destined lover. Somewhere, back on his home world, was another half of Abdollah’s whole who, now that they had been separated by nothing more than a cosmic phenomenon, would forever be incomplete.


Was the irony lost on Abdollah? Not really. How could destiny be derailed by coincidence? A mere chance of a chance. Scientists on Earth had studied and debated why the momentary convergence between planes had occurred. Abdollah was certain that the other mystics back home would have done the same. On Earth, wild theories flew as numerous as the sands of the deserts where Abdollah spent his youth. Yet, no real answers came. They did not understand, as Abdollah did, that there was, in fact, no reason to be found. It happened simply because it could, and enough time had passed where the possibility could no longer be ignored. It was inevitable. Even a destiny such as Abdollah’s, woven deeply through the fabric of time and space, was nothing before the certainty of the event.


It was, ultimately, his loss. He was left, then, to come to terms with the fact that life would move on without him being on the path he was meant to. He could only hope that this destined lover, whoever he might have been, could do the same.


As for other lovers, however, Abdollah had taken his pick. It did not take him long to realize that on Earth, the aesthetics of his body were desirable. And, like many, he had attempted to fill that         empty space with men who had all whispered into his ear, just as Badd did, about how they found his rear end almost irresistible.


Abdollah felt the point of Mr. Badd’s claw sink dangerously into the fork of his legs. He pressed the pad at the tip of his middle finger firmly between Abdollah’s cheeks, invading his most intimate areas until he could feel the warmth that spread from his entrance. His thumb and forefinger pinched as much firm flesh as they could. Abdollah could practically hear the wordless grin spreading over Badd’s teeth as he humiliated and humbled the Truth-Speaker.


Whatever attempts Abdollah could make to stop Mr. Badd from having his way seemed futile. His body had grown rigid. It was almost as though his muscle fibers had been drawn tight throughout the length of his legs and he couldn’t do so much as bend them, far less for retaliating against the encroaching fingers.


His hands remained balled as fists, which would have been useful if he had managed to bring them in contact with Mr. Badd’s face. However, his arms remained at his side now, snapped at attention much like his other friends and Badd’s bodyguard, Duke, had. Maintaining this posture presented an insane level of strain on Abdollah’s body, yet his mind seemed more at ease the less he fought against this newly-established default position. Though he had managed to resist the initial brunt of the hypnotic ray’s effects, his will could only provide resistance for so long. Slowly, as though tendrils creeping into the cracks in Abdollah’s psyche, the influence compelled him to submit.


Mr. Badd clicked his tongue. “Don’t fight it. I expect obedience. That is why I invented my laser in the first place. Your friends have already submitted. You will not be able to resist much longer.” With those words, his grip on Abdollah’s ass tightened. This time, he could not hide his glee as the Jackal released a snarl.


The edges of Abdollah’s lips curled, exposing his sharp teeth, as he exerted himself. He thought the grimace menacing but as he caught sight of himself in the sleek reflections that surrounded the office, he saw that his face had been contorted into the same unnatural smile that now covered the faces of all who had succumbed to the Badd Laser.


“Duke,” Mr. Badd said quickly, “I want you to take care of this one personally.” With a snap of the fingers of his free hand, a group of visored individuals filed into the room. No villain was complete without his legion of faceless henchmen. Abdollah was not intimidated by the display of manpower. However, the visors that the henchmen wore only covered the upper half of the henchmen’s faces. The lower halves displayed their exposed mouths, each with flashing rows of fully-bared teeth indicating that they were under Badd’s full control.

They moved completely in sync with one another, as though direct instructions had been beamed directly into their minds. Their double-file march split into different groups as they attended to each of the subdued heroes, stripping them of their clothing without any mind being paid to their individual shame. Though they went about their duties in an efficient manner, the henchmen moved oddly. Their legs never bent at the knee, even as they unfastened the lacings of Chester’s sneakers or used a pair of large scissors to cut away the fabric around Hank’s ankles. In fact, they seemed almost intent on carrying out the most mundane tasks in as abnormal a manner as possible. Simply looking at how their bodies bent and twisted made Abdollah’ already-sore muscles ache even more.


Duke approached where Abdollah stood. He, too, moved unnaturally. What Abdollah had initially mistaken for awkwardness now carried the tell-tale signs of Badd’s influence.

Mr Badd continued. “Abdollah here is an issue, but not a large one. In fact, I’m curious to know whether he would be able to give feedback on what it’s like to go through the process.” The manner in which Badd stressed the final two words made Abdollah’s skin crawl. As he had spoken to Duke, however, his grip on the jackal had relaxed ever so slightly. “Once we’re underway with the new line of product, I’ll let our most loyal customers know that there’s fresh - “


Abdollah turned on the spot to face Badd. Abdollah had not thought it possible but whatever little color was in the ivory scales of the dragon’s face drained as his eyes went wide. At that moment, Abdollah might have hesitated. Clearly, Mr. Badd had never imagined that someone would or could resist the effects of his hypnosis. He had been careless, and as Abdollah raised his arm in a mighty fist, he seemed almost pitiable.


Almost.


There had been many villains Abdollah had been forced to fight. Whether it by magic or by his fists, they all seemed, at the end of the day, rather small outside of their grandiose machinations. Abdollah steeled his resolve as he always did. His power, ultimately, resided in the great words and truths from which he drew his strength. His fists were strong, but not enough to destroy a dragon in a single blow. Dislocating his jaw, however, was another matter entirely, and it was completely within the scope of Abdollah’s abilities.


However, Abdollah’s fist never made contact with Mr. Badd’s face. Fast as an arrow, Duke’s red-scaled arm caught on to the Jackal’s wrist. Mr. Badd fell backwards, knocking over several of his own henchmen, before he landed on the tiled floor with a heavy thud. Badd’s legs played out before him while his long tail curled behind to protect itself from the stomping underlings that busied about.


For all they were worth, the henchmen seemed not to be bothered by the scene unfolding around them. They continued with their duties and any that came into the area where Mr. Badd fell, they either stepped around him took comically large steps to pass over his legs or tail, giving them the impression of soldiers on a jackbooted march.


Similarly, Mr. Badd paid no mind to his henchmen, though he seemed to be proud of Duke’s ability to stop Abdollah’s punch. “Well, well!” he said, rubbing his jaw between his thumb and pointer as though nursing the blow that never landed, “that was close. Very cool of you, Abdollah!”


Badd smiled and clapped both hands together before pushing himself to his feet. “Duke, teach our friend here a lesson in obedience. Maybe he will be more willing to cooperate after you introduce him to the floor!”


Almost robotically, Duke’s arm pulled back, causing Abdollah to cry out in pain. A moment later, he was tossed over the dragon’s shoulder and he performed an involuntary somersault until his back came into contact with the ground and all the air was knocked out of his lungs.


Abdollah saw stars. He wanted to contort in pain but couldn’t even do that as his ankles and heels seemed almost glued together. Consciousness seemed to fade in and out, though each time the darkness cleared from around the edges of his vision, he seemed to have less and less of a grasp on the reality of his situation.


Duke perched both feet besides Abdollah’s midriff and doubled over at the waist without so much as bending his knees in the slightest. He was strong enough to lift Abdollah from the ground, grabbing handfuls of fabric in his taloned fists hoisting with all of the weight supported by his lower back. The fabric screamed as it tore, leaving Abdollah’s little more than shredded bits of garb but Duke made no sound that indicated any effort at all. As a matter of fact, he placed the slumped form of the statuesque jackal on his shoulder and bore the weight much like a laborer with a full bag of cement in tote.


“Good job. Good job!” Mr. Badd said. His praise was unneeded as it was unclear whether Duke had even been aware of what had happened between himself and Abdollah. “That’s good, Duke.”


Badd brought himself to his feet and walked to where the dragon stood with Abdollah slung over his shoulder. The rest of the heroes had been stripped naked, Darby included, and were now organized in single file to be marched out of the office.


Abdollah drifted in and out of consciousness. He was aware of being carried down a hallway, then a series of stairs to a lift near what he imagined was the back of the complex. They exited after moving downward and the still, cool air made it obvious that they were in a tunnel of some sort and Duke carried him while walking in lockstep with the dozen-and-a-half henchmen that accompanied them.


It was a strange sight, seeing the naked heroes march perfectly in time with the footfalls of heavy boots. The pace and rhythm gave the posse an almost musical nature to their procession, keeping a steady beat that pounded into Abdollah’s ears each time he drifted towards lucidity.




****




Abdollah awoke not quite himself. He was first aware of the coldness at his back. He felt the chill extending across his limbs and wrapped around his wrists and ankles. There was discomfort, but he experienced it as though he was merely aware of not being comfortable. As though he could only register the fact, but not react to it.


His vision was blurry. Clarity came in pulses, accompanied by the throbbing of a headache that felt as though it had gone on, untreated, for far too long. He could see, due to the high ceiling, that he was in a large room. Some sort of warehouse, perhaps, or maybe a factory.


As each moment passed, Abdollah slowly regained his lucidity. He understood now that he was in pain. Not sharp, nor was it unbearable. He felt as though he was in the aftermath of one of the most rigorous workouts he had ever experienced. Every muscle in his legs, lower back and torso felt as though they had been stretched to the maximum and pushed to their utmost limit.


He was also now aware that he had been strapped to what resembled a large examination table. Several bright lights bore down on Abdollah, but they weren’t for his benefit. All around him, Badd’s henchmen marched. He was able to turn his head just enough that he could see several other examination tables beside his. Most were unfilled but the one nearest him was not, and upon it was Chester.


Chester was on all fours, not restrained as Abdollah had been. His knees and elbows were planted upon the cold metal of the table, however, as though he was in a half-plank that he maintained with a steady grin. Chester was in-shape, and Abdollah didn’t need to see his lithe, naked body to know that. However, the quivering in his muscles betrayed his potential exhaustion. How long had Chester been in that position? How long had Abdollah truly been unconscious? He didn’t know.


As the thought crossed his mind he felt a set of hands upon his body. Badd’s henchmen had surrounded him, a pair now stood on each side, but Abdollah hadn’t noticed their approach. Even as they busied themselves - prodding and poking at this naked form - he could barely feel their ministrations.


Abdollah attempted to struggle but found his efforts futile. Even the most herculean effort went nowhere; his will could not surpass whatever suppressive effect that Mr. Badd’s device had inflicted upon him.


He was only vaguely aware of what happened next. What he did manage to grasp about his experience on Badd’s assembly line felt distant, as though he viewed it through a foggy lens. It was clear that what was happening to Abdollah were events playing out in real time, but he was as helpless to influence his experience as the audience in a movie theater.


Sometimes Abdollah seemed to black out - losing minutes at a time - and when he came to, it was as it the lull in his thoughts caught up to his senses, giving the world an oddly-paced ‘fast forward’ effect.


He knew Chester was gone. The cheetah having been seen by several henchmen and the platform upon which he rested rolled out of the room without so much as a hint of protest. Adollah was no different. When all that needed to be checked had been put in order, he was hurried out of the room, still strapped by the wrists and ankles.


It was difficult to recall what he saw. There was Hank, seen through a set of exposed double-doors as Abdollah was wheeled past. The gator was stripped naked and seemed to be doing some sort of intense exercise. Abdollah only caught a glimpse but he could see that Hank’s already-massive muscles seemed to bulge under his scales as the strenuous pace engorged them with blood. It was an effect that Abdollah had only witnessed while Hank was in the middle of his most intense battles; and it usually coincided with destruction of public infrastructure reaching several blocks away. Here, though, it seemed under perfect control. At least, the building remained standing.


Abdollah drifted into a daze once more. He remembered seeing Olis. He saw, for a moment, Chester in the location he was taken, still on all fours with a henchman snapping into place a large, latex glove that covered all the way to the elbow standing behind him. Then, when he came to, he was in a room on his own.


He was no longer strapped down but he was in no better position to help himself. Even if he could command his body to move, his legs were in stirrups and lifted high with his legs spread apart.


Between his legs stood three henchmen. Like all others, the top of their faces were obscured by visors but they dressed in medical overalls. They seemed to work together seamlessly, communicating without words as they put Abdollah through what Mr. Badd had described as ‘the process’.


Abdollah could feel them at work. Two of the henchmen used gloved hands, slathered in a warm lubricant or some kind of ointment, to massage the jackal’s manhood. He knew they were touching him but like every other muscle in his body, he was helpless to stop the reaction from his organ.


He swelled and grew as the four hands grasped and stroked his sizable shaft. Even when he was fully engorged, they continued to touch him. They pulled on his rod, squeezing it, stroking it, placing firm pressure in the places Abdollah had only been touched by his most intimate of partners.


Yet, they were not satisfied.


One hand moved lower to lift his swollen gonads and another lower still to press a lubricated finger against Abdollah’s anus. The shame was not at all reflected on Abdollah’s face, though he felt it. He felt it more when the finger curled into a wicked hook and pressed against his prostate, causing his already-erect cock to grow so stiff that he feared it would burst on the spot. Only then did they seem pleased with how he presented.


Afterwards, a long tube was brought forward. Inside, Abdollah could see a grey putty, similar to rubbery cement in texture. The thick substance was so viscous that it barely moved, even as the tube was inverted and Abdollah’s steel was thrust into the mold.


The pressure was intense. There was hardly any space in the container to begin with, but his swollen cock pressed into it as though forming an air-tight seal. All the while, the finger toyed with Abdollah’s prostate and his unnatural arousal continued, as though his body fought every instinct to spill his seed.


Abdollah’s face remained still but inside his brain was on fire. He had never felt such shame and neither had he felt such intense, all-consuming arousal. It was enough to drive him deep into the corners of his own mind and, from somewhere far above the devilish floors of Mr. Badd’s workshop, the white-scaled dragon watched.", "pools_count": 0, "title": "Badd Hypno - Chapter 3 (commission)", "deleted": "f", "public": "t", "mimetype": "text/plain", "pagecount": "1", "rating_id": "2", "rating_name": "Adult", "ratings": [ { "content_tag_id": "4", "name": "Sexual Themes", "description": "Erotic imagery, sexual activity or arousal", "rating_id": "2" } ], "submission_type_id": "12", "type_name": "Writing - Document", "guest_block": "t", "friends_only": "f", "comments_count": "0", "views": "40" }