Gay Spiral Stories

This site requires Javascript to run. Please enable Javascript and refresh if you'd like to continue viewing.

Gay Spiral Stories

Series: The Eden Virus

The Eden Virus [Part 6]

By M. Greene - 2018-02-03 09:55

Chapter 16: Year 1, Day 235

Head bowed, Rio stood on his high stiletto heels holding a silver salver loaded with glasses of red wine. There was heavy snow outside, but in Master Daddy’s centrally heated apartment, it was always beautifully warm.

“Thank you,” General Sykes said, taking a drink from the tray and then turning to resume his conversation with their host. “I have to admire your exquisite taste, Mr Diamond,” he said, gazing at some of the paintings that lined the walls of the businessman’s lounge. “Isn’t that view of Venice a John Singer Sergeant?”

Tyrese grinned, revealing his long, sharp teeth. “Yeah, I think so, General.” He glanced over at the large watercolour. He had no fucking idea who had painted it, but it sure looked classy on the wall over there. Since he first took control of the warehouse, his crew had been ordered to seek out beautiful objects for his private suite. The leather sofas, antique tables and hand-woven rugs were carried away from various abandoned stores in the city and the artworks from a local museum. His apartment was now a luxuriously furnished space which reflected his illustrious status. Tyrese picked up a glass of wine for himself. Rio bowed low to him and teetered away to offer refreshments to the other guests.

Today’s reception was being held to celebrate Tyrese Diamond’s recent appointment as Minister of Employment in their newly independent state. General Sykes was now the Governor, but he retained his old military title and steadfastly refused the presumption of calling himself ‘President’. “We’re not part of the Union anymore,” he would say gruffly. “We have seceded and will remain aloof until a legitimate federal government has been restored…”

News from the capital was not terribly promising in that regard. ‘President’ Owens was engaged in a civil war with half of the federal army fighting on his side and the other supporting a rival claimant to the White House. Rumour had it that anarchy reigned in Washington.

In contrast, their own state was turning into a haven of law and order. Block by block, General Sykes and his troops were gradually clearing up the city. All human remains, either from the time of the pandemic or the violence that followed it, were removed for respectful burial. Rats and other vermin, of which there had been a veritable plague, were exterminated. Salvageable goods were commandeered for the general good. Any surviving men they found were usually half starved and suffering from the effects of exposure. The army took them to their base to be cleaned up, fed, treated for injuries and then, in most cases, delivered to Tyrese Diamond, the new employment minister, for allocation to work details in farms up and down the state.

Miles and Andrew Hillier helped themselves to canapes from the large tray of snacks being handed around by a smooth skinned man with long blond hair, whose hairless chest had been tattooed with the word ‘London’. This intrigued them both as they had spent their honeymoon in that historic city a few years before.

“Are you British?” Andy asked the waiter, pointing at his chest.

The man’s pretty blue eyes widened and his glossy painted lips opened and shut in confusion. He looked startled for a moment, which was the closest London now ever came to thinking. “It belongs to Master,” he said, bowing to them respectfully and turning away to serve food to some other guests.

Miles frowned. “I’m not sure exactly how that squares with the U.N. Convention on Human Rights,” he said darkly. He bit off half of the pastry snack that he had taken. “Nice canapes, though…”

“Our host certainly seems to inspire loyalty in those who work for him,” Andy remarked.

“Some might call it ‘slavery’ rather than loyalty,” Miles sniffed. “I’ve heard that none of the farm hands or security guards on Diamond’s books are paid anything at all for their labour.”

Andy shook his head. “I think you’re wrong there; it’s not exactly slavery. Let’s face it; right now, we have no viable currency, which means that the only payment Diamond can possibly offer is food and a warm place to sleep. His workers are getting that. They’re a lot better off than those who are presently living rough, half-starved and exposed to the elements...”

Miles was not convinced by his husband’s argument. “According to Lieutenant Harris, Diamond’s people all sign lifetime contracts. ‘In perpetuity’ it apparently says in the small print. If that’s not slavery, I don’t know what is…”

Andy looked over to where their host was standing chatting with his guests. “You have to admit that he is a magnificent specimen of manhood, though,” he said. “I can smell his delicious musk from here…”

Miles nodded. “Oh, he’s an alpha male, alright; I certainly can’t argue with that.” He took a sip from his glass. “I’m about to begin a study of our new genital secretions, or ‘man gel’ as this liquid has come to be called, and I’m sure that there is a connection between it and the strong odours our bodies are now emanating.”

“Our host’s odour is simply heavenly…” Andy breathed.

Both of them were feeling it; a sense of incredible sexual attraction to Tyrese Diamond, caused by the pheromones his sweat glands were constantly secreting. His heady, animal musk seemed to permeate every corner of the warm room, large and lofty though it was, making their dicks swell and their assholes secrete even more ‘man gel’ than usual.

Tyrese was dressed in a sleeveless outfit of thick, white leather with matching knee length boots. The suit was obviously made-to-measure because it fitted every contour of his muscular legs and torso tightly and exactly. A glossy mane of black dreadlocks cascaded from his forehead to his shoulders, crowned by the four inch long goat’s horns curving backwards from his forehead. His golden brown skin glowed with health, as did his cat-like olive green eyes and oiled goatee beard and moustache. Diamond studs adorned the lobes of his pointed ears and a thick golden chain encircled his neck. His bulging biceps were hairless and the right one sported the words: ‘A Diamond is Forever’, freshly tattooed in black ink.

Yes, Tyrese Diamond was very handsome and expensively clothed, but what was catching the eye of every man in the room was his glorious cock. Like his guests, Tyrese was wearing crotch-less pants which completely exposed his curvaceous ass cheeks and genitals. Erupting triumphantly from a thick thatch of black, curly pubic hair, his penis was the most beautiful anyone in the room had ever seen. It was not the longest or thickest, but it was definitely the sexiest. It was brown and heavily veined, and it glistened seductively with man gel in the light of the chandeliers. Every man in the room secretly longed to feel that huge brown cock sliding into their wet and hungry holes…

His guests having all left by around eleven, Tyrese helped himself to one of the remaining canapes while Rio and London cleared away the empty plates and glasses.

“They all gone, Boss,” Derrick announced in his incredibly deep voice, bowing low in the doorway.

To date, Derrick was the most heavily mutated man in Tyrese’s crew. Apart from his face, palms and the soles of his feet, his dark brown skin was entirely covered with thick, black, woolly fur. His brow had become very pronounced and formed a solid ridge above his large, dark brown eyes. His two horns, among the earliest to grow, stuck out from each side of his head, like those of a bull. They were at least six inches long and sharply pointed. Derrick’s incisors had become hefty tusks, which stuck up above and below his greatly thickened lips. His nose appeared to have retreated completely into his face and consisted of two huge nostril holes. With his new fur, even in the depths of winter, Derrick was insulated from the cold and had completely given up wearing clothes. All he presently had on were his slave collar, black leather boots and a pair of studded leather straps wrapped around his bulging biceps. His nipples and dick, now much larger than before, had been pierced with thick steel rings.

“Excellent…” Tyrese poured his faithful slave and deputy a glass of wine and handed it to him. “Thank you; this evening went very well. It won’t be long until I rule this state…”

Derrick drank a mouthful of vintage Bordeaux and grinned. “That’s great, Boss.”

“Tomorrow morning I want you to have the larger jeep ready by six…”

Derrick bowed his head again. “Yes, Boss.”

“We’re visiting a farm that’s about eighty miles away, so I want to make an early start.” Tyrese walked over to his desk and picked up a letter. “The farm owner, a guy named Edward Creed, says he needs four slaves for field work. Do we have enough?”

“Oh, yes, Boss, you got plenty of slaves in stock…”


Chapter 17: Year 1, Day 236

Slave 6214 climbed into the back of the jeep and sat where one of its Masters instructed it to do. A seatbelt was fastened around its waist and it watched as three other slaves were brought into the vehicle and similarly secured. Like the others, it was naked and, although it had a thick pelt of dark blond fur over its body, it shivered in the cold dawn air.

It did not remember anything of its former life. All it knew was that it belonged to the Masters, who were sitting at the front of the truck. The smell of the Masters made its nostrils twitch. It heard the engine start and felt the vehicle begin to move…

It must have zoned out during the journey, because the next thing it knew was that they had come to a halt and the big black master was undoing its seat-belt and pulling out of the jeep. Slave 6214 saw a farmhouse surrounded by apple trees, towards which it and the other slaves were led.

They entered the house through the back door and were told to stand in a line. Slave 6214 obeyed and stood with its head bowed looking down at the tiled floor. Now it was inside once more, its nostrils could more easily smell the presence of its Masters. Their musk was unmistakable. Its slave dick filled with blood and stuck out in front of its body. Even more man-gel oozed from its ass and began to trickle slowly down its thighs…

One of the Masters was sitting at the table next to a muscular white man. They were talking together and drinking coffee. Slave 6214 watched as its Master took a piece of paper out of His briefcase. The white man signed it. Slave 6214 tried to swallow, but its mouth felt dry. The Master and the white man were walking towards it…

The Master’s musk was now overwhelming and His olive green eyes bored straight into its soul. Its mind began to shut down…

When it opened its eyes again it was still staring into its Master’s eyes, but they had changed from olive-green to dark grey. Its Master’s skin was much paler too than it remembered. Also, it was not 6214 anymore, it was Yellow…



Edward Creed had decided to name his slaves ‘Red', 'Yellow’, ‘Blue’ and ‘Green’. Although they each had unique four-digit serial numbers tattooed on their chests and across the backs of their shaved heads, he knew that he would never remember those. Colours made much better names than numbers…

“Do you want them to start work immediately?” Mr Diamond was asking him.

“Sure…” Ed looked around for Bazz, but he was nowhere to be seen. He felt rather irritated and embarrassed by this. Bazz had been standing right here next to him when their visitors had arrived in their jeep. They had agreed that Bazz would take charge of the new slaves and put them to work. Where the fuck had he disappeared to? “I’m sorry, Mr Diamond; my husband was going to take them out and show them what to do, but I’m not quite sure where he has gone…”

Mr Diamond smiled. “Don’t worry; they’re real easy to control. Just tell them what you want done and they’ll do it right away…”

Ed looked at the four slaves. Naked apart from their work boots and steel collars, they stood motionless in a line with their heads bowed. He did not really want slaves at all, but now the farm was under state protection, he had no choice. In return for army protection, they now had food quotas to meet, which meant that there was a lot more work to do; far more than he and Bazz could possibly cope with on their own.

Ed had never owned a slave before. He was not quite sure what to say to them. He wished his husband hadn’t disappeared. Where the fuck was he when he needed him?

Sensing Edward’s hesitation, Mr Diamond turned to the hulking gorilla of a man who had driven the jeep. “Derrick, go with Mr Creed and help him get started…”

“Yes, Boss,” Derrick bowed to Mr Diamond and then turned to face Edward. “What do you want them to do for you first, Mr Creed?”

Ed thought for a moment. What had Bazz said? Oh yes… “The cattle shed needs cleaning out,” he replied.

“Lead the way, Sir…”

Still looking around for his missing husband, Edward walked out across the snow-covered farmyard followed by Derrick and the four slaves.



Once he was alone, Tyrese looked again at the contract that Edward Creed had just signed. It was very satisfactory; he had gotten a good deal. In return for state protection and the four slaves, Creed had signed over three quarters of his agricultural yield to his company for the next twenty-five years…

“Well, well, well… If it isn’t my old homie…”

Tyrese froze. He knew that voice. It was much deeper than he remembered, but it was unmistakable… He looked up and the contract dropped from his shaking hands.

“Bazz!”

Nearly nine feet tall, Bazz towered over him; a colossal mountain of rippling muscles and shaggy hair. His brown skin had darkened to become jet-black and his eyes burned like red hot coals. One of his huge clawed hands grabbed Tyrese by the neck and lifted him up into the air as though he were a weightless rag doll.

“Great to see you again,” Bazz’s bass voice rumbled, holding Tyrese’s face close to his own.

Tyrese’s eyes widened in terror. He was only an inch away from the man’s impossibly wide mouth with its long tusks and razor sharp teeth. He could feel the breath snorting out from that wide, black snout with its heavy steel ring. And those terrible red eyes were boring straight into his brain! His bladder gave way, releasing a torrent of hot piss which ran down his thighs and splashed onto the floor.

Bazz laughed. “Yeah… I knew you’d be happy to see me…”

Tyrese tried to scream, but the massive hand was strangling the life out of him. Tears began to run down his cheeks, which, to his horror, Bazz began to lick away with his huge black tongue.

“Aw… Don’t cry baby boy…” Bazz crooned softly. “You been a real bad lil’ boy, but Daddy still loves you…”

Bazz raised his left arm, releasing a waft of his powerful musk. Dangling helplessly like a broken puppet in Bazz’s tight grip, Tyrese could do nothing to prevent his face from being pressed right up against the man’s hairy armpit. The damp sweaty fur tickled his nostrils as Bazz rubbed his face up and down in it. Despite his fear, the strong animal stench made Tyrese’s man-gel start to flow freely and his dick began to harden.

Then, without any warning, Bazz slammed Tyrese onto the kitchen table with all his terrific strength. Momentarily stunned, Tyrese found himself pinned face down by the weight of Bazz’s massive body. He tried to twist himself free, but escape was impossible. Those incredibly strong hands were holding his arms firmly in place. He felt something start to push between his ass cheeks. No… Not that… Please not that…

Despite its size, Tyrese’s hole was so slick with man-gel that Bazz’s dick slid inside him very easily. Tyrese gasped as the huge cock forced its way up his tight chute. It felt like he was being impaled!

Then the fucking began…



Out in the cowshed, Ed watched the four slaves as they raked out the shit and piss soaked straw. They worked in silence, without stopping and without complaint.

“They’ll carry on until the job’s finished, Sir,” Derrick explained. “You’ll find that you need to tell them to do everything: stop, start, eat, drink, shit, piss, sleep. They won’t do nothing unless you tell them, Sir…”

Ed shook his head slowly from side to side. “They’re like machines…”

Derrick shrugged. “Pretty much, Sir, yeah…”

Ed looked at the thick steel collar around Derrick’s own neck. It was lined with leather and engraved with his name and the words, ‘Property of T. Diamond.’ “I see that you are also a slave, Derrick…”

Derrick nodded. “Yes, Sir. I’m owned by Mr Diamond.”

“But you’re not a machine like these other slaves…”

“No, Sir. I got free will so I can serve my Boss better.”

“Are you happy being a slave, Derrick?”

“Oh yes, Sir…” Derrick smiled and, by the way his brown eyes shone, Ed could see that his feelings were genuine. “I love Mr Diamond very much, Sir. He’s my Boss…”



Tyrese moaned and sobbed as the relentless pounding continued. His treacherous ass was slick with his own slippery man-gel, easing the passage of the monster cock as it slammed deeper and deeper into his guts. He was still weeping, but no longer because he was in any pain. The fucking, which had been excruciating at first, was now flooding his body with wave after wave of pleasure as his prostate gland was repeatedly punched by the head of Bazz’s huge dick.

It was humiliation that now caused copious tears to run down his cheeks. This was his first time as a bottom. He had been an anal virgin before; an alpha male. Now an even greater alpha was turning him out and making him into his total bitch. Shamefully, he had already bust his nut, shooting the mess down his thighs and over the floor in an ecstasy of pussy-bitch lust. Despite this, his dick was already hard again and he could feel that another orgasm was on the way. Whatever happened, he knew he belonged to Bazz now. Bazz might fuck him up or even kill him; he didn’t care anymore. Bazz was his Master…

Bazz let out a bellow of triumph as his seed began to shoot. Pulling his dick out of the bruised and battered asshole, he threw Tyrese onto the floor and, grabbing his horns with one hand, aimed his spunk over the worthless nigga’s face with the other. Tyrese moaned as the milky warm mess spurted across his lips and snout. He was so defeated that he even stuck out his tongue to lick some of it up…

Bazz smiled when he saw this. “Yeah, bitch… That’s it… Eat your Daddy’s seed…”

Tyrese tried to open his eyes, but the sticky cum made them sting. Blinded, he felt yet more liquid splashing over his face…

Bazz held Tyrese in a sitting position while he pissed all over him. He made sure that his stinking, hot urine sprayed over Tyrese’s head, soaking the punk’s hair, beard and moustache before running down to wet his expensive leather outfit. Once he had finished, Bazz released his grip on the goat-like horns and watched with satisfaction as Tyrese collapsed face down in a puddle of piss.

Tyrese lay on the floor for a few minutes trying to recover. He was wet, uncomfortable and very badly shaken up. His neck ached, his body was bruised all over, and his asshole hurt like hell. Worse than all these things, however, was the feeling of utter emptiness he felt without his glorious Master inside him…

Raising his head a little, he saw that his Master was sitting watching him from the other side of the kitchen. He was smoking a big cigar. Tyrese began to crawl across the tiled floor towards him. “Master…” he croaked. He reached Master’s black leather boots and began to lick and kiss them. “I love you, Master… I love you so much… You can have everything, Master… Everything I got is yours… The crew, the crib, the food, the slaves… Everything… I want you to have it all, Master…”

Bazz looked down at him and smiled, but when he spoke, his voice was as cold as an arctic winter. “Nigga, I don’t want you and I don’t want none of your lousy shit, neither. You’re trash and you belong in the garbage. Crawl back to your fucked up city life and never come near me again. If I see your lame ass near my land one more time, I’m gonna kill ya.” He rose from his chair. “You get me, nigga?”

Tyrese started to cry. He loved his Master so much… “But, Master…”

Bazz carefully placed the toe of his boot against Tyrese’s chest and kicked him several feet away across the kitchen floor. “You gone deaf, nigga? I told you to get your sorry motherfucker ass out of here! I never want to see your ugly fucking face again…”


That night, Edward and Bazz lay on their bed in each other’s arms. It had been a very good day. They had eaten a delicious meal together and shared some of it with the slaves, who were all now fast asleep upstairs. Having worked hard throughout the afternoon, their owners both agreed that the slaves deserved to lie on comfortable beds in warm rooms with full stomachs. They might be slaves, but that was no reason to treat them badly…

Bass stroked the hard bumps that had recently formed on Edward’s forehead and temples. “Looks like they’ll be through any day now,” he said. “You’re gonna have four horns like me…”

Ed smiled and gazed at Bazz’s magnificent black horns. They were over six inches long now and still growing. “Funny how Mr Diamond rushed off like that without even saying goodbye,” he remarked. “If that Derrick guy hadn’t run like hell and jumped into the moving jeep, I swear that his boss would have driven off without him…”

Bazz shrugged and licked Ed’s cheek affectionately. “I guess he had urgent business to attend to,” he said. “You know how it is with those city folks; forever busy and always running around…”

Ed gave Bazz’s nose ring a playful tug and kissed his moist snout. “Don’t you ever miss the city? It must be real lonesome for you stuck down here on this farm with only me for company…”

Bazz laughed. “Talk about fishing for compliments,” he said. He tickled Ed’s stomach and while his lover was still helplessly doubled up, scooped some of the man-gel out of his wet hole and licked his fingers clean. “Hmm… Delicious…”

“I’m serious,” Ed insisted, once the tickling ceased. “It’s so quiet around here. I’d understand if you missed the city sometimes…”

Bazz nodded. “Yeah right… I sure miss the shooting and the stabbing and the hustling and all the other shit that goes down there…” He kissed Ed on the lips. “This is my home, now,” he said, softly. “You’re my husband and I’m yours. We’re married, aren’t we?”

Ed nodded. A few months back, towards the end of the summer, he and Bazz had knelt down together in the apple orchard and spoken their solemn vows to each other. The birds flying above their heads and the four graves lying nearby had been their only witnesses; they had felt no need to have any others. “Yes,” he said, kissing Bazz back. “We’re married.”

“So why would I wanna leave what we got here and go back to that shithole?” Bazz asked, smiling, as he gazed lovingly into his husband’s grey eyes. “There’s no place on Earth I ever wanna be except here on this farm with you…”
You've created tags exclusively for this story! Please avoid exclusive tags! 3 tags required! Descriptive tags makes it easier to find a story. Use existing tags whenever possible.
Comma (,) separates tags.

Rating

Hot
Mind control
Wanking material
Writing
Idea