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THE NIGHT OF FORCED HEGEMONY:
James West lay on the stone floor of the cellar- stark naked, shivering in a puddle of his own cold sweat and bleeding from multiple lacerations- willing himself, mercilessly, not to pass out. Betrayal was a bitter draught to swallow and the wounded secret agent vowed with all the steely strength of his formidable will that someday he would kill Artemus Gordon for what he had done…and it didn’t matter whether the traitor died fast or slow, James West wasn’t that kind of man, but die he most certainly would. That the young secret service agent would eventually escape and that all would somehow, impossibly, be well was a certainty to a mind trained in relentless optimism and boundless faith in his own capabilities. He was James West, confidante of presidents, specimen of physical perfection and extraordinary mental acuity, a well paid public servant with his own private train…how could he not prevail at the end? And then his confidence, born of a slow-dancing opportunism that was part genetic and part the result of decades of assiduous practice, would suddenly waver. Jim would convulse, choking on still-born sobs that filled him with unreasoning shame, as the dreaded name echoed in his mind like a gunshot- Miguelito Loveless…Doctor Miguelito Loveless…Artemus’ cruel parting words, uttered with a sneer as the heavy door to the cellar slammed and was bolted shut plunging Jim into darkness, ticked in his mind inexorably as a doomsday clock; he was the helpless prisoner of a diminutive madman capable of anything…anything at all.
A day and a half later…
The thugs disguised as union soldiers dragged the semi-delirious captive up the stairs and into a glare that assaulted his already bruised senses with renewed violence. Blue eyes squinting against the needle-like pain, James West allowed himself to be passively manhandled into a cavernous utility room where the shit and piss and scabbed blood was scrubbed from his muscular body. He was still young, somewhere in his very late twenties or early thirties by appearance, and the wash, though humiliating and also painful as his penis, testicles, and tight asshole received special attention from a pig-bristle brush, did him a world of good. Beginning at last to feel better, his mind cleared a little but was still groggy and, wincing from the clean sting of multiple wounds and a deep stiffness in his abused muscles, he stood on rubbery legs and offered only token resistance as hairy wrists were bound behind his back. Three of the bogus army regulars served as an escort and, pausing for further orders, casually devoured the naked secret service agent with their eyes. Jim West cut an amazing figure and he easily recognized, and was revolted by, the feral glances levelled in his direction but was also wily enough to calculate ways that the obvious predilection of his ‘escorts’ might be exploited. All well and good in the machinations of his highly trained mind, but reality told another story; West grimaced as one of the thugs groped his arcing pecs, painfully twisting pale nipples before mussing the carpet of wiry bronze hair spanning the contours of his manly chest. That was bad but worse would follow. ‘Why’d you take away my clothes? Let me get dressed…’ It was part reasonably query- West felt awkward standing helpless with his hands tied behind his back stark naked; every inch of his hard, hairy body exposed to the whim of clothed handlers…and part ploy- a feeble attempt to distract the fondler from further exploration, to no avail. His question was ignored and the leering thug groped lower, roughly pawing along the path blazed by the silky treasure trail bisecting Jim’s über-masculine torso, to the patch of thick pubes curling at his groin where he tarried for a while, finally dipping lower to the real prize- James West’s big cock and low-slung heavy balls. West reflexively spread his thickly muscled, oak-like legs to accommodate the invasive hand and ease the painful pressure that was sure to follow even as a slashing riding crop descended- not on his own aching muscles- but on the offending wrist of the faggot handler reaching for the agent’s captive manhood.
The thug yelped pleasantly and snatched his hand away, mere inches from the prize. He stood shaking at attention (as were his two companions), tears in his eyes, rubbing the deep red welt blazing against the pale skin of his offending wrist. A new, but oddly dressed and, from the way he handled his crop, higher ranking minion had entered the room and hissed his disapproval at the behaviour of the escort. ‘Lay your handssssssz off of him, pig!!’ Obviously a foreigner, his accent and syntax were untraceable, which may have explained his strange appearance as well, though West had some other, darker explanations in mind- Dr. Miguelito Loveless, insane…insane place…insane companions…dangerous…insane– ‘He…’ pausing, the strange new minion executed a flourishing pirouette, finishing in a half crouch with a bony finger pointing straight at Jim’s wagging cock, ‘belongsssssz to the Doctor.’ Dressed in a midnight blue, fortunately oversized (since he wore no trousers) evening jacket, half unbuttoned over a smooth bare chest he also sported a black, ‘zoro’ mardi gras mask and matching cardboard top hat tastefully rumpled. His blue eyes glittered through the eyeholes of the mask a shade paler than his coat but without a hint of softness. Turning to the offending thug he grimaced and clicked a snake-like tongue in mock scandal. ‘YOU!’ The long finger swung from Jim’s cock to the tearful attendant, ‘covet the prizoner’sz manhood, knowing who ownzzzs him?’ (His odd accent went in and out of the unfocused half-lisp similar to that of the future Sean Connery). The tone was incredulous, dripping with venom. The terrified escort offered no reply. ‘Very well…’ uttered with consummate, if pensive, insincerity, ‘You knew the rules and chose to disobey. Prepare to pay the price with your own…ah…manhuuuuud. Strip!!’ The thug stood frozen in place, bogus toughness revealed, as with all bullies at the end, to be skin deep…but, speaking of skin… ‘I said strip…NOW!!!!’ The lisping command filled the small room as hideously abrasive as fingernails raked across the surface of a blackboard. Jim West, despite himself, grimaced and followed the example of the unfortunate escort’s two companions; backing against the safety of a wall, leaving the offender alone in the center of the room, a spreading stain damping the navy blue of his uniform almost black at the crotch as he wet himself in fright.
Though he was still a young man, with shaking, suddenly palsied hands the breathless attendant fiddled the gold buttons of his wool blouse loose over a broad chest glistening with new sweat. He shrugged off the blouse, shivering, uncertainty creasing a handsome face already furrowed by terror, hoping for a reprieve that never came. ‘STRIP!!! All the way!’ The reluctant victim dropped his shirt on the floor from fingers that suddenly seemed paralyzed; summoning every ounce of fast-retreating courage or mechanically obeying a command inexorable in its expectation of obedience…who could tell? He fumbled open the fly of his damp trousers and let them pool for a moment around his ankles before leaning down and, slow as a man condemned to the unspeakable, unlaced his boots, peeled them and a pair of stinking socks off before finally stepping out of the wool trousers. The offending escort stood naked and blushing like a virgin on her wedding night and Jim, backed horrified against a far wall, couldn’t help but notice that the flunky, though a criminal and traitor, was certainly well put together. Assuming the twitching crop held by the masked freak was meant for back or buttocks, Jim was also just a bit perplexed by the palpable terror that had the muscular stud shaking from head to naked toes and, fairly obviously, near tears. Damn, man- its only a caning, and with a pansy crop much less…like you would have had any number of times as a school boy, that is if you went to a place interested in building decent character… Jim doubted his own conjecture- the guy’s a thug– but still; the man’s obvious fear seemed excessive. Soon enough, the higher ranking minion in mask and top hat would clarify the reason for the thug’s seeming irrational terror…
‘Very gooooood, boy…’ The oily words, deceptively calm and slick as the surface of a clogged pore, did nothing to reassure the victim, shuffling nervously from one bare foot to another. ‘Now…’ as if, indeed, to a schoolboy, ‘Place your handsz firmly behind your head…that’sz right…eggzellent. Szpread your legsz.’ The muscular escort, who seemed to know what was coming, tensed the biceps of arms raised with hands clenched white-knuckled behind his head, but balked for some reason at spreading his legs. The tophatted minion nodded toward each of the escort’s uniformed companions, ‘Pleasze…would you lend a hand?’ And, together, they levered their erstwhile companion’s hairy legs wide. ‘Now, before we begin, I want to impart szome very important advicz.’ He casually ran the flat leather tip between the sweaty cleft of the captive thug’s chest, circling a nipple lazily before drawing back…and snapping the crop down with sudden force across the shaft of the man’s exposed penis. Surprisingly, the thug bit back on the scream that came bubbling up in response to the sudden pain. West, for the moment ignored, observed it all; utterly fascinated by the proceedings. ‘I szee that you know what to eggspekt…’ The enigmatic statement caused Jim to arch a sandy eyebrow. ‘And so…you will endure until permission is granted to passh out. Isz that undersztood?’ ‘Yes…sir…’ gasped through gritted teeth. ‘Delightful! Let usss proczheed then…’ and the masked minion flicked the crop with an elegant twist of his wrist, harder than before, straight up the twin beacons of spread muscular thighs to crash against the exposed dangling balls of the horrified captive…who, this time, didn’t miss the opportunity to let rip a satisfying shriek of pure, unadulterated agony. Three more strokes followed and Jim, feeling a little queasy, gained a new respect for the tormented thug who, aside from emitting ear splitting shrieks of anguished pain, literally stood his ground- running rivulets of hot sweat, chest heaving, swaying mightily, but nevertheless still standing on trembling spread legs. WHACK. The sickening slap of the crop against the reddened scrotum of the gagging thug marked number five…as he bent at the waist and puked on the concrete floor. ‘Thatz OK…but you muszt sztand.’ The command, ghost-like in its tranquil imperative amazed Jim by actually eliciting a response. Fuck me!! What kind of hold do they have over these men??! And this masked freak is merely one of Loveless’ minions!!!! ‘Ye…s…sir…’ the gasped response was nearly inaudible as the big thug straightened, licked the vomit from his lips, and prepared for more. All in all the poor brute took nine before permission was granted to collapse, which he did gratefully, dark eyes rolling up toward blessed nowhere, rubbery legs at last giving way under the volcanic agony of his abused balls. He crashed to the floor with a ragged sigh, like a great tree felled after much labor, and the vast room which, a moment before, was filled with the cacophony of pain, became eerily silent. ‘That wasz lovely.’ The slender sadist pursed his lips and levelled a pale glance at James West crouched against a far wall. ‘And you, my friend…’ he tried, and failed, to repress a giggle, ‘have an appointment with the doctor.’
Of course, this is where we have a commercial break- maybe extolling the delights of this or that brand of cigarettes or beer- remember, it’s the 60’s! Whatever the case, we don’t have to imagine what James West looks like naked since we have already seen him in all of his hairy splendour…though we left him slouched at a distance against the far wall of the cavernous utility room. Hmmm, what do you think CMers? Want to see the handsome and very naked young secret service agent closer up? Want to see that amazing body tortured, maybe hear Jim groan or even scream with agony like the warm up thug before the commercial break? Hey!! Where the fuck is the much-talked about Dr. Loveless anyway? OK- break’s over, get your asses back from that open refrigerator…
James West had had more than enough of this particular adventure. Fuelled by his own special brand of revulsion and fear he first tried to sprint (and what a fine sight that made!!!) for a doorway to kick open, but the one selected remained stubbornly closed. Next he simply dug his calloused heels into the flagstone floor and stubbornly refused to budge. Manhandled to no effect by the two remaining escorts, the minion then attempted to use his crop- even in the very effective way that had the recalcitrant thug puking on the floor- but he hadn’t reckoned with the likes of James West! A fast sideways slice of a spring loaded muscular leg caught the Tophatted One just above his wrist. The satisfying wet snap of bone followed by an angry hiss of pain told Jim all he needed to know- the crop wielder would be taking a very long break. The impasse lasted around five minutes until a door leading to some brightly lit interior suddenly opened and a whip wielding Berber entered, tapping the handle against his white robbed thigh and smiling toothless mirth- he loved a challenge. In no time at all James was herded, motivated by the hot agony of slashing leather decorating his back with a fresh pattern of bright stripes, through the same door the Berber had entered from. Looks like I’m going to make that doctor’s appointment after all… and the wry thought was almost instantly borne out as a diminutive form materialized in the glare of what looked suspiciously like a madman’s laboratory.
‘Ahhhhhhh, Agent West!! Jim West! How delightful to…ah…see you!!’ The dulcet tones, cloyingly evocative of a rancid peanut butter and banana sandwich, hung in the ozone-charged air for a split second daring anyone to contradict the familiarity. No one did. Dr. Miguelito Loveless waddled forward, hungrily eyeing the captive secret service agent who seemed, in comparison to the dwarf, like a hairy giant. Of course, he and James West had met before, always in adverse circumstances, but- though he was slobberingly familiar with Jim’s hairy chest and belly, having had him strapped shirtless to any number of chairs and tables in the past- Loveless had never seen the handsome stud completely naked and had often fantasized as to where the thick treasure trail spilling from West’s navel might lead. Never particularly shy or unduly hindered by his disability, the pint-sized maniac sidled up to his tall prisoner, shamelessly ogling the panorama of rippling muscles for a few moments before reaching out and grabbing the shaft of Jim’s cock with a tiny hand. Loveless’ sensuous mouth made an ‘O’ of sheer pleasure as he gazed, at eye level, on the much-sought after prize. Jim grimaced, hating the clammy feel of the perverted midget’s greedy touch and the whispery feel of hot breath prickling the short hairs dusting his ball sack, but also certain that much worse would likely follow. He was not disappointed. ‘James…James…’ the bird-like hand scrabbled up the long shaft of Jim’s cock circling the flared rims of the head with uncut fingernails. The rogue doctor’s own trousers suddenly sprouted a respectable tent that West tried not to stare at…fucker seems perfectly normal sized…MORE than normal…down there!! Loveless continued to stroke Jim’s hard body, cooing inarticulately, pinching here, pulling there, before finally cupping the scandalized secret service agent’s mighty balls. ‘Ahhhhhhh! The prize comes to me at last; worth every penny I paid for you, James…oh yessssssssssss indeed!’ He hefted the dangling scrotum, which completely filled his diminutive hand, separating each testicle, which he then proceeded to measure individually with a calliper. ‘Lovely…so lovely…yes, these will do nicely,’ muttered from the depths of dark concentration. Finally, turning to the small crowd of onlookers, the murderous midget’s blue eyes flashed. ‘Kindly escort Agent West to the lab, my darlings, there’s work to be done!!!’
Time for a stretch as Jim is marched down any number of corridors on his way into the bowels of Dr. Loveless’ lab…OK, that’s it- let’s see what’s going to happen next!!
James West would have been in awe at the high tech chaos of the lab if he didn’t know Miguelito Loveless better. The pint sized prick was a genius- that much was obvious. Shuffling naked into the glare of bright light, the slap of his bare feet against the polished floor seemed somehow ominous. Everywhere he looked were welters of snaking tubes, many-colored wires, blinking gauges, gears, apertures and puckered orifices, sharp and sensuously curved edges, hooks and probes and scattered beakers of bright, foul smelling liquids. In fact, the place stank of things both rotten and antiseptic and an irritating hum thrummed from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. ‘Welcome, Jim, to my workspace…and playroom!’ The dwarf chuckled and gestured broadly, executing a mock half-bow in the process. Jim stood blinking new sweat from his eyes, the tide of anxiety pulsing in time with the infernal thrum of the dozen or so massive machines that littered the lab. Loveless straightened, smile replaced by thin-lipped concentration as he casually walked behind the suddenly tense secret agent and (sure enough- fucking bastard!!!!) shoved two of his fingers up to the third knuckles straight into his prisoner’s shocked asshole, wiggling around a little, savouring West’s low groan of surprised pain. ‘It HAS to be there somewhere!!!’ More wiggling and Jim nearly shrieked as a third fat finger briefly joined the other two in the tight confines of his (nearly) virgin hole. ‘Ahhhh, found it!!’ Jim felt an odd warmth radiate suddenly from the center of gravity between his legs to all parts of the physical compass, not unpleasant but decidedly strange. He looked down, horrified, in time to witness his big flaccid dick stretch with awakened vigour, half stiffening to a decent eight inches as it bobbed, undecided, over his tingling balls. ‘Just as I’ve always said- the way to a man’s heart is through his prostate!!’ Loveless chortled and probed deeper, massaging the diamond hard spot buried deep in the mine of James’s bowels and, in the process, causing his penis to leap, fully aroused, ready for breakfast, and sheepishly proud of it’s rock hard ten inch length. Suddenly removing his fingers with a wet ‘pop’ that caused the prisoner to groan and reflexively clench his hairy buttocks, the diminutive doctor hurried around his towering captive for a frontal view. ‘Lovely!!’ he exclaimed, casually thumping the bobbing rod before scooping up a spool of precum and lifting the slick delicacy to his lips. ‘Ohhhhhhhhh, James! I think you will do nicely…yes, indeed!’
What’s this? Another damn commercial break?! Man, I just hate it when we get toward the end and all of a sudden the breaks come thick and fast…oops, show’s back on!!!
The tall, muscular, masculine and tastefully hairy young secret service agent, James West, made a fine sight in the center of Dr. Loveless lab. The welter of high tech clutter which, only shortly before, would have riveted a roving eye unable to focus for all of the shapes, colors, flashing lights and subtle sounds…was merely background now to the magnificent centrepiece of naked human flesh- all sinew and flexed muscle- shackled spread eagle against shining metal x-shaped crossed beams. These were centered by a circular plate of the same silvery metal, framing the splayed stud’s lower torso like a slipped halo; humming with mechanical life, flashing lights and wired like a Christmas tree. Loveless scurried here and there twisting dials and checking and then double checking various gauges, seemingly oblivious to the prisoner…until, looking up, he grinned and shoved a wide rubberized tube up West’s already abused ass. ‘You, of course, are familiar already with pain- n’est pas?’ The tiny madman looked up and winked at his helpless victim, a promise twinkling in his blue eyes. ‘Fuck you, Loveless!’ West muttered, unwilling in his present compromised state to engage in banter or play word games. The maniacal midget merely shrugged and casually greased a clear catheter with pepper oil before inserting it in the tiny eye of Jim’s horrified cock. ‘How’s that feel?’ he quipped as the secret service agent writhed in fresh agony, gritting even white teeth against the pain even as his hips shimmied with erotic splendour trying to shake the incandescent catheter loose. ‘I thought you might enjoy that!’ Loveless was all gleeful business and, rubbing his hands, adjusted a dial before pausing to explain certain things…
‘You realize, Jim, from our many past encounters that I am a man possessed of an unshakable vision, one that will not be thwarted. Yes…that’s right; I, Dr. Miguelito Loveless, am fated to rule the world.’ He tittered and shrugged modestly before continuing, ‘Though several past attempts have failed, I have come to view these as…ah…learning opportunities and, being a genius of epic proportions, never make the same mistake twice.’ He paused as if for applause or, at least, a commercial break and, receiving neither, went on, ‘You really should be honored, Jim…’ lightly stroking the broad hairy expanse of West’s naked chest, ‘because I have chosen YOU for my final attempt at world domination and, I assure you sir, THIS time I WILL NOT FAIL!!’ For all the drama, which might have been laughable under other circumstances, James West kept quiet, battling a feeling of sick dread in the pit of his stomach. He waited for the punch line. Loveless did not disappoint, ‘You must understand, Jim, I have finally unravelled the secret of…life!!! Yes, and there is more!’ Unable to contain himself, West snapped, ‘Get to the fucking point you half-assed excuse for an educated toad!’ Loveless grimaced and slapped the secret service agent’s exposed balls with petulant anger before incongruously beginning to chuckle. ‘You clever boy, anticipating my every move, eh? Or…should I say mood?’ Confused, West tried not to show it as the doctor continued, ‘Because it is you, Mr. West, who must be made to experience…ummmm…a certain range of emotion. Yes! You see, and as I was saying before being so rudely interrupted, my experiments have enabled me to create a sort of super soldier…but no, he is much more; an über-thug, mega-hit man…killer…’ Eyes glinting with the rising magma of insanity, the doctor gestured around the lab, ‘See? Culture tanks to grow my, er, boys…what should I call them? Hmmmm, maybe clones? Kind of has a ring to it, what do you think?’ James West was too shocked to comment. ‘Zygotes are unnecessary; my ‘boys’ are just that- big, crazy, testosterone besotted, rage driven, bad assed bastards utterly without use or benefit of anything contributed by the female (Loveless really was a smart little prick- intuiting the existence of chromosomes many decades before their discovery; his ‘soldier/thugs’ were clearly fated to be triple Y’s!!!)… Yes indeed!!!’ He chortled, unable to control a sense of dark glee and executed another neat pirouette. ‘In a word (or two); they are ALL MAN and, when I have cultivated enough of them, we will overwhelm and trample everything before us…ahhhhhhahahahahaha!!!’ Loveless dissolved into hysterical laughter even as Jim twisted against the thrumming x-frame, more uncomfortable than ever with his vulnerable nudity. ‘And so, dear James…I need something precious from you, oh yesssss, very precious!’ Jim’s suspicions as to what that might be were confirmed as the dwarf once again grasped his testicles in a claw-like hand. ‘Buckets and buckets, James…your SEED is all that I NEED (he giggled at the rhyme) to, ah, manufacture my army!’ Ah, fuck… the depressing news sank into the captive secret service agent’s mind like a stone tossed into still water, adding to his discomfort, why didn’t I listen to my parents and settle down with that sweet girl in Nebraska?
Well, guys, we’re getting toward the end and so, if it’s OK with all of you, let’s fast forward through the jingles and see what’s shaking!!
FARK- now, what is this??!!!
Scene shift; a distant part of the complex of buildings sprawling somewhere out in the trackless wasteland of the Sacramento River Delta that forms the mad Doctor Loveless’ headquarters and lab… James West (presumably) gasps with horror at the revelation of exactly what the maniac midget actually wants from him (though, if the truth be told, Jim only knows half of it) …but, what is this? In another part of the building we find what looks like a straw-strewn stall in a basement barn and another prisoner sighs, flexes mighty muscles, and sadly tests his chains…
They called him ‘Bear’, though his real name was Lenny Shackleton, and the lone (bogus) soldier on guard duty eyed the big stud hungrily and for good reason- the Bear was made for display, safely chained to iron rings in an eight foot radius within the stall, stripped to the waist over tight fitting trousers made of that new fangled material they called denim. The muscles of the Bear’s torso were suitably huge, flexed and oiled with a natural sheen as he sweated lightly in the glow of some kerosene lamps. His deep, well-defined chest was covered by a curling mat of soft black hair, swirling around rose-colored nipples and running in a wide trail straight over corrugated abs to a bristling pool on his taut belly. The Bear sighed, rattling his chains theatrically as he paced barefoot in the straw. ‘Get your ass over here and face me, boy!’ The Bear shambled into place and blushed as the guard pawed the hard contours of his hairy chest before darting down and eagerly unbuttoning the big stud’s denims, spreading them wide over snowy briefs. ‘You’re a fine sight, boy…a mighty fine sight- now, flex for me, nice and slow. Good!!!’ The Bear did as he was told, turning when ordered to show off the rippling muscles of a back crisscrossed by the angry red welts of an expertly wielded bull whip. He seemed well-trained and, though his dark eyes brimmed with humiliated tears, he kept them averted with head slightly bowed in the classic posture of submission. ‘A mighty fine sight…’ mumbled under his breath as the guard lazily fumbled his own blue wool trousers open. ‘Now…haul that big cock of yours into the light and start stroking…nice and slow. That’s right…get yerself hard boy and don’t shoot till I give you permission.’ The Bear swallowed hard and did as he was told…
James West writhed against the shiny ‘X’ of the high-tech frame that held him bound spread eagle in the center of Loveless’ lab. His mouth was open in a frozen grimace of exquisite agony long past emitting any sound except, perhaps, a mewling gibberish of glazed pain so far gone it teetered on the edge of insanity. That hadn’t been the case, twenty minutes before, when the doctor had first begun to twist various dials, punch certain buttons, and otherwise tweak sensitive parts of the hairy stud’s naked body in a symphony performance worthy of the crowned heads of Europe. Back then, the dwarf had gleefully explained until the doctor’s voice was drowned out in Jim’s ears by the sound of his own shrieks. ‘You see, Mr. West, it isn’t enough to simply harvest the seed of a mega-virile, A-class stud like yourself. No, there is…ah…a certain enhancement necessary.’ He twisted a dial, which caused red lights to flash on the silver disk centering the splayed muscles of the naked secret service agent. James West let out a livid scream that sounded a bit like gargled razors as electric current…and something else indefinable but infinitely more painful…radiated from the disk into the convulsed muscles of his lower back and buttocks and from there to all parts of his suddenly burning body. Insult was added to injury as Artemus Gordon sauntered into the lab, all insouciant hound dog innocence, mouthing a silent ‘Who, me?’ as James stared daggers and then a kind of wounded interest in the goings on as if to say, ‘Well, asshole…I mean, really, what did you expect?!’ ‘I’LL KILL YOU, FUCKER!!!!’ The shouted threat- nearly the last articulate words James West would speak in quite a while- nevertheless, struck Artemus as…well…rather tiresome. He shrugged and, jiggling a clear bag mounted on an IV pole and filled with pinkish fluid, slipped one end of a feed tube into an eager orifice that was, itself, connected to the narrow hose leading straight up and inside James West’s clenched asshole. Thirty seconds later the drug hit the helpless stud like a sledge hammer; jacking up his sensory threshold tenfold and lowering the macho prisoner’s legendary ability to tolerate pain exponentially…just as Loveless, eschewing technology briefly in a bout of nostalgia for the good old days of the medieval Inquisition, rammed twin spikes heated to incandescent brightness through the nubs of Jim’s tender nipples…
Meanwhile…down in one of the basements…
The Bear slowly jacked off on command, blushing furiously, though it wasn’t the first time he had been ordered to perform either for the amusement of various bastards like the aroused guard or, for that matter, more nefarious reasons- like, the times when his pearly jam was collected in a small brass bucket and taken somewhere with nary an explanation. He knew that he would be commanded to blow the bogus soldier’s cheesy prick next and the Bear dreaded that even more than public display of his sexual prowess. Even so, he did offer a fine sight, rhythmically working his rock hard rod- ten and a half inches of hot bobbing manhood- now all shiny with precum…practice makes perfect…and Lenny Shackleton (aka the Bear) knew that in a minute or two he would spray, on command of course, steaming ribbons of sticky man-juice all over the straw covered floor…simply for the amusement of a blue coated pervert, who also happened to be unchained and possessed a gun. ‘OK, Bear, that’s real nice…now, let it go.’
Back to the lab…
Jim, nearing the end of his rope, contemplated the jittery edge of insanity through eyes rolled up in their sockets and riveted inward. He never heard the end of the mad doctor’s glib explanation; droning on in tedious detail about how each and every sperm (and there must have been millions) in Jim’s prodigious balls was affected by the combination of drugs and high-stress agony to the effect of practically guaranteeing psychotic embryos ripe for education and training in the arts of violence, subservience (to the doctor), and eventual lockstep warfare leading to world domination… Loveless would have his army at any cost and was happy for James West to pay it. Jim’s lean, muscular body twitched and convulsed under multiple ministrations, salty sweat flying in all directions, damp hair matted dark and musty as the secret service agent stood spread eagle, stark naked in the macabre x-shaped torture device that, in reality, seemed to encompass the entire laboratory. Loveless twisted a last dial that caused Jim’s entire body to jerk in an interesting direction then licked his lips and called for one of the ubiquitous little brass buckets, ‘Time to milk the bull, boys…and collect some of our precious elixir!!!’
Back to the basement…
The Bear stood looking impossibly handsome and stupid; all hairy splendour with his broad chest heaving under a hammering heart, new sweat raised by the jack off session adding a certain definition to already prodigious muscles in the mellow light. He hadn’t bothered to hike up his denim trousers or scanty briefs, waiting with his big cock and furry balls hanging free, half flaccid now but still slick, for the expected command. Man, I HATE this shit- blowing that jerk just isn’t my idea of a good time…and good times were what Lenny (his name in another life) did best- way down in the southern end of the state where the sun seemed to shine all the time. ‘Over here Bear- that’s right.’ The big prisoner shuffled into place. ‘Now…down on your knees and open that pretty mouth of yours- yeah, you know what to do.’ Lenny started to comply- he had done it often enough in the past- but was interrupted by a kind of epiphany, not of God per se, but of a wide beach behind a stretch of palms with (if he was lucky) some tanned sweeties brave enough to shed the yards of Victorian clothing so that (at least) a decent amount of smooth skin was showing as they darted in and out of the waves… The big bear started to sob, suddenly too shattered to comply with the hideous request; he remained standing, swaying slightly on oak-like legs, scratching his suddenly itchy balls. ‘Get down on your fucking knees!!!!’ The guard, wholly unaware and uncaring of the hairy stud’s complex emotions, was both perplexed and impatient. ‘No.’ A simple word that seemed to fill the entire universe. Lenny’s antagonist unwisely (he had grown complacent in the company of the seemingly well trained bear) turned to remove the disciplinary whip from its hook and that was all it took- three minutes later he lay dead on the floor with his neck bent at a very strange angle. The Bear reached down and, fumbling in the dead man’s pockets, exhaled a hiss of pure pleasure when he found the ring of keys.
First lesson at any zoo- don’t get too close to the animals no matter how tame they may appear!
James West began to float tentatively backward from his riveting vision of hell as the agony subsided. Loveless seemed to be preoccupied with a different matter and ceased the endless variation of fresh torture that had assaulted the helpless captive to a point nearly beyond endurance. What the insane dwarf was up to soon became apparent as he manhandled Jim’s huge cock into a rubberized sleeve connected to a long tube made of the same material. ‘This should feel…ah…interesting,’ The midget was all professional concern as he threaded the tube connected to the sleeve embracing Jim’s penis through a larger aperture of mechanical complexity that then encompassed the sleeve (and Jim’s dick) and was strapped into place around his sweaty hips. Fuck…this is a lot like what they did in the last episode with the crystal tube and the damn scorpion!!! Loveless let the open end of the tube rest on the rim of the small brass bucket- don’t want to lose a single precious drop, oh no!!!– before approaching some hitherto unfiddled with buttons and switches decorating a wired column obviously well-connected to the apparatus strapped around Jim’s sexy hips. ‘A special current I recently discovered, similar to electricity…but much more, ah, specific!’ He flicked some switches and the splayed stud felt a strange energy course through his battered body even as his tired cock roared to hungry life and leapt to rock hard attention.
Got to get out of here…out of here…out of here… The thought, like a sacred litany, filled Lenny Shackleton’s rattled mind and drove him forward…towards the light, first at the top of the stairway leading out of the basement barn, then down various corridors, searching for the natural glint of bright sun that would take him outdoors…to freedom. Though Lenny was unaware, he also followed a subliminal sound, just below the threshold of conscious hearing, then just above, always there; an infernal thrumming emanating from everywhere, nowhere, wait! Just down that corridor…and the light! So damn bright!!
The Bear burst into Loveless’ lab just in time to witness a scene that seemed straight from the depths of a deranged libido making the Marquis de Sade look like an eighteenth century version of Mr. Rogers. Jim West, facing the door, shot him a glassy glance even as his hips convulsed, driving forward, in the classic posture of violent orgasm. Loveless and Artemus Gordon, backs turned to the very same door, raptly watched as pearly fluid flowed from the rubberized tube to plop with a steamy hiss into the bottom of the brass bucket- wholly unaware of the presence of the intruder. Since the prisoner was safely bound in the x-frame, there was no need for minions or guards and Lenny was able to freely traverse the cavernous lab; the hot bile of rage rising…rising…and, finally, bubbling over in his feverish brain and big, noble heart. Of all of the sights, sounds, smells, and impressions- not least the naked and very hairy muscle stud immobilized and obviously brutally tortured- what sent Lenny over the edge was sight of the small brass bucket and what it contained. He had been there…done that.
Dr. Miguelito Loveless recognized that something was amiss as the unconscious body of Artemus Gordon, limp as a rag doll, flew across the room, landing in a welter of crackling sparks and buzzing wires on top of some nameless machine. Damn! That must have hurt- fucker could be DEAD!!! Faster than he looked, the dwarf, in reality, was anything but awkward. ‘We got ourselves an emergency situation here boys!’ he shouted to anyone who might have been within earshot before deftly evading the Bear’s enraged lunge, disappearing instead amidst a maze of humming machinery until, discovering the escape hatch he had installed years before anticipating just this sort of situation, the mad doctor chortled, loudly vowed more nefarious activity in the future and, squeezing like a fat spider into the confines of a stainless steel tunnel, disappeared from view- safe to scheme another day. Lenny wasn’t really all that concerned when Loveless escaped. His fuse was short but it also burned fast and now, standing in the center of the deserted lab, he had the sense to realize that to remain for long was dangerous- got to get out of here…out!!! But there was still the problem of the man hanging delirious in the metal x-frame…
Lenny gazed at James West’s splayed, naked form for several precious minutes (ever notice how time during dire emergencies is wasted so profligately in films??), all anger evaporated and replaced by welling compassion as warm as the overheated laboratory and fuzzy as his broad, muscular chest. Exerting one last burst of violent activity, but in a gentle cause, he smashed the bonds holding the secret service agent stationary in the hated x-frame. James West, for all of his macho bluster, collapsed into the strong waiting arms of the shirtless bear, snuggling without inhibition, instinctive as an infant, against the warm expanse of his rescuer’s chest. Though Jim was a big man, the Bear was bigger and, thus, able to scoop the exhausted prisoner up easily and, carrying James West, like a tired child fallen asleep in his big brother’s arms, turned and left the lab.
Time for the most irritating commercial break of all- with all of two and half minutes left in the show…there, farking thing is over, we’re almost there!
Though it seemed to take forever, the journey actually only lasted two and a half minutes in real time. Whatever the case, the tall bear easily bore his burden through the ozone-stinking maze of Loveless’ lair, finally emerging into the blessed clarity of pure sunlight. The sense of relief was palpable and, though the obvious danger of proximate bad guys just a stone’s throw away in the sprawling complex was evident, well, somehow it just didn’t seem to matter all that much. The Bear set James West’s limp form gently down in the grass and knew that somehow all would be well. For his part, the semi-conscious secret service agent allowed himself to drift lazily in the warm embrace of sweet smelling grass and sunlight, unconcerned for the time being with his nudity, simply glad to be alive. Jim turned toward his tall benefactor and tried to smile. ‘Who are you?’ uttered in a croaking whisper, the battered survivor of the mad doctor’s malice grimaced as his lacerated throat clenched up with more than mere pain, blinking back unseemly tears. The Bear nodded sagely and pretended not to notice the tears. ‘Name’s Lenny Shackleton and I’m from the southern part of the state.’ ‘Never been down that far…’ Jim sighed, drifting off at last. Lenny smiled, lightly stroking the short bronze fur on the other man’s chest. ‘Southern Cal…that’s God’s country…where the sun shines most days of the year and the ocean’s as deep green as an emerald and flecked with gold…’ His smile widened, ‘Yessir, I hail from a neighbourhood just north of Los Angeles proper…called Hollywood. You come visit me there any time, any time at all…’