The Future is in Plastics

By Hypnothrill published July 11, 2018
Owen finds a strange meteorite in the woods. Little does he know it will revolutionize the world of plastics...

{Note: Here’s the first part of a new one I just began writing today. I have the next couple of installments plotted out, but I don’t have them written yet, so it might take a little while before I post them. I hope you’ll be patient with me. And see if you can guess which classic Doctor Who stories I’m using as inspiration for this one…}

The Future is in Plastics

Owen Yardley knew these woods like the back of his hand, which is why he knew exactly where to head after he saw those shooting stars that night. Maybe he would find a meteorite, maybe even an intact one. That might be worth a pretty penny! He could certainly use the money. Owen was barely eking out a living here in the Lake District, doing odd jobs as a caretaker and handyman in the winter and leading tourists on hiking expeditions in the summer. At 35, he knew that this lifestyle could only last so much longer. He was still fit and craggily handsome now, but he could already see the beginnings of a beer belly and a dodgy knee.

When he got to the spot, he gasped with surprise and delight. He could see steam coming out from a hole in the ground. And in that hole was a meteorite, perfectly intact and cushioned by the soft soil. And maybe it was just the moonlight or the reflection from his torch, but he could swear that the meteorite was softly glowing. He reached for it, gently pulling it out of the small crater it had formed.

Turning it over in his hands, he could see that it was perfectly geometrical, a regular octahedron with smooth surfaces. It looked wrong somehow. It looked manmade. It looked…it looked…it looked beautiful.

Now that Owen was holding it in his hands and staring at it, he could see that it looked so beautiful. It was glowing even more now, as though it were responding to his touch, to the warmth of his body. It was glowing, and the glow was so beautiful. Sometimes it would dim, then glow brighter, then dim. It was like a heartbeat. Slowly, without realizing it, Owen slowed his breathing so that his heart was beating in sync with the meteorite’s pulse.

It was so beautiful. So fucking beautiful. So fucking beautiful there was only one thing Owen could do. He had to fuck it. His dick was already rock hard in his trousers; his erection had started pulsing right when the meteorite had. So all he had to do was hold the meteorite in his right hand and lower his trousers and underpants with his left.

And once the tip of his hard dick touched the cool smooth surface of the meteorite, well suddenly that side of the meteorite went all gooey, like liquid plastic. And he was able to slip his hard dick right into that cool slick liquid plastic, to thrust into it as it glowed and pulsed and hummed around his erection. And he kept right on thrusting, fucking his beautiful meteorite, even as the plastic that now coated the length of his shaft began to insinuate its tendrils up his piss slit, inside his dick, even into his balls. It was when it hit his prostate that Owen had the first of many orgasms. But still he kept thrusting and fucking it, even after he lost consciousness…

When Owen awakened just after dawn the next morning, he was a new man. Gone were the scars from his hiking and mountain biking accidents. Gone were the wrinkles on his face. Even the beer belly was gone, replaced by a perfectly molded 8-pack of abs that wouldn’t look out of place on a Ken doll. Overall, he looked 10 years younger. His skin was perfect. Uncannily perfect. A little too smooth, a couple degrees too cool to the touch. Like plastic.

Opening his eyes, now as brilliant blue as marbles in a doll’s head, Owen ran his hand over his firm, smooth, hairless chin and smiled, revealing a perfectly straight row of bright white teeth he didn’t have the night before. Raising himself up on his elbows, he extracted the little bits of meteorite shell that were still clinging to the tip of his smooth dick, now a thick 10 inches even though it was still only half-hard. He then pulled up his underpants and trousers, then strode purposefully (if a bit stiffly) through the woods.

He knew what he must do now. They always traveled in packs. There would be others…

Douglas Jannings was having a terrible day. In fact, he’d been having a terrible week, a terrible month, a terrible year even. The future was not looking bright for Jannings Plastics. Retailers simply weren’t buying as many of the old types of plastic goods anymore; they wanted something biodegradable or at least something recycled.

He’d tried telling this to his father, the founder and still the CEO of Jannings Plastics, had tried to convince him that they needed to change their product line, to invest more in eco-friendly plastics. But the old goat wouldn’t listen to him. Even though it was Douglas’ responsibility, as Junior VP of Research & Development, to think of these things, the old man just wouldn’t listen. He never had, really; the old man had never held “little Dougie” in much esteem.

The stress of it all was getting to Douglas. He was only 33, but the worry lines in his forehead and the dark bags under his eyes made him look a lot older. And the stress was wearing on his relationships too. His fiancée couldn’t take it anymore, all of Douglas’ anxiety and complaints and sleepless nights, so she called off the engagement last month. That was where Douglas’ very bad day came in; Emma had come by earlier that morning to pick up the last of her things. Who knows when he’d ever see her again.

Which is why he was glad he had this meeting this afternoon. He needed something to take his mind off his personal life. Even if it was a wild longshot: a meeting with an unknown inventor, one Owen Yardley, who’d claimed to have developed some sort of process that would “revolutionize the world of plastics.”

As he walked into the meeting, Douglas was a bit surprised to see that Mr. Yardley was such a young man—he looked like he couldn’t be a day over 30—in a cheap off-the-rack suit and with a broad accent that betrayed his rustic origins. Well-groomed though, and with the whitest teeth Douglas had ever seen outside of Hollywood movie stars. Were those veneers?

Douglas cleared his throat and tried to sound commanding, “So…ahem…Mr. Yardley, what can we do for you?”

Owen flashed him a broad, toothy smile. “No, Mr. Jannings. It’s what I can do for YOU. I want to show you something that will change your whole life.”

He reached into his little backpack and pulled out a strange purple ball-sized object. It wasn’t quite a sphere though, more like an…an octahedron.

“What…what’s that?” Douglas stammered.

“It’s something very very special, Mr. Jannings. Something very special that I brought especially for you. Just look at it. See how it’s starting to glow? That’s right…just keep looking at it. Keep staring into it. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yes…beautiful…” Douglas murmured.

“Yes, it’s so beautiful. Why don’t you reach out and touch it, Mr. Jannings? Just reach out and hold it in your hands…”

“Yes…in my hands…” Douglas whispered, gently taking the meteorite from Owen’s cool, clammy hands.

“That’s right. Just like that. See how it’s glowing even brighter now? Glowing and pulsing? That’s because it likes you. Now why don’t you just keep staring at it, Mr. Jannings, staring at it glowing and pulsing? And when the time is right, you’ll know what to do.”

And soon Douglas did know what to do. He did the only thing he could do when faced with something so fucking beautiful. He unzipped his suit pants, pulled out his throbbing erection, and began fucking it. Fucking it right there atop his desk until well after the end of business hours. As Owen stood beside him and watched, the broad megawatt smile frozen on his smooth handsome face for hours.

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