Many World #1 - Lights, Camera, Action! - Part I

CHUY/CHARLIE

The three of us spent most of the night brutally fucking and fisting each other - our first time together as a trio of hairless, hard-muscled, sex-crazed latinos; exhausted, we collapsed into bed and passed out. 

I woke up around 7am with Inti kissing me softly on the lips and Tito gently sucking my cock. 

The sun was streaming through the apartment's bedroom windows and onto the soft white sheets and our naked, caramel-skinned bodies.

"Damn, that feels so good..." I groaned as I spurt a massive load of cum down my partner's throat.

Inti gave me a wink. "Well, best get used to it, amor... I think this is going to be a regular occurrence from now on... at least when you two are off-duty and I'm not out trawling for cock."

Tito laved my thick ten inches one more time and then licked his lips. "I know the Sarges are going to be a lot rougher with me now too..." He grinned. "Just the way a second-class Mexican motherfucker like me needs it!" He looked at the clock on the bedside table. "Hey! Dani's expecting us around 10am. Let's get moving!"

* * *

I thought taking a shower together would save us some time... but THAT was a huge mistake. It only got all of us horny as hell (again) which initiated another round of sucking and fucking ... and another shower ... and another cleanout. 

After a quick breakfast, we liberally applied some Axe 'Dark Temptation' body spray, dressed quickly and headed across town to catch the uptown subway to the Greasetank. 

Tito and I were in in stretch jeans, tight t-shirts and white leather sneakers; Inti was in Tito's faded red Coca-Cola t-shirt and short cutoffs which highlighted the musculature of his legs and a pair of worn Timberland boots. Once we got in the subway car, we began kissing and fondling each other again, enjoying the shocked (and, frequently jealous and envious) glances of the other passengers until we arrived at our stop.

 * * *

INTI

After we got off the subway, it was a leisurely walk to the sex club. The three of us circled around to the back of the large brick building and Chuy entered the access code into a hidden keypad next to a heavy steel door. With a 'CLUNK' we heard the bolts retract and Tito pulled open the entryway. This section of the building housed offices and other areas not directly related to the actual working of the establishment. Chuy and Tito headed towards Dani's office. 

"I'll catch up with you in a few. Be back soon." Chuy waved as they continued down the corridor. I headed in the opposite direction towards the club's changing room. I was about halfway thru the warehouse when I heard a voice call out behind me.

"Hey samets!! ("stud", ed) Vhat is the rush? I have not seen you in a long, long time!"

 I turned around to see Evgeny Umaskaya - the co-owner of the club - with a wide grin on his scarred face.

"Zhenya!!" He spread his arms crushed me into an embrace.

 * * *

A few years back, Chuy and Tito (then Charlie and Tony) had been forcibly Converted into black thugs for over a year as part of a deep-cover NYPD/FBI operation to remove the prior owners of the Greasetank- Dmitri and Arkadiy Resnikov. The Resnikovs had been cold-blooded criminals and terrorists and the two brothers had been killed by my owner and his partner as part of a supposed takeover by a group of Converted African-Americans. Evgeny had been brought in by the Feds as their replacement - he was a ruthless criminal as well, but with a strict code of honor and far better suited to run this type of business. The Russian oligarch laundered all the cash from his illicit activities through the club. The FBI (and IRS) turned a blind eye in return for his monitoring of all criminal activities and any potentially dangerous operations being reported back to them. Dani (then Officer Robert Altschuler) had gone through a Conversion to become a black man permanently and was installed as the manager of the Greasetank. The two had been instantly attracted to each other and soon, Dani was Evgeny's lover, partner and co-owner of the club.

Evgeny had silky brown hair parted in the middle and bright blue eyes. He was as massively built as the three of us (and without any Transanabol treatment) and was wearing a tight blue silk shirt that was opened to display his massive pecs and part of his eight-pack abs; black dress pants and Italian leather shoes completed his outfit. He had a prominent scar that started near his hairline and traveled down his forehead, thru his eyebrow and eye and continued down his face. 

The Russian gave me a deep kiss. "Vhy are you here so early today, zayka? ('little bunny', ed.) Vhere are you running off to?"

"My owners and I are doing a video with Dani. I need to get changed into my latex." 

"Ahh... I see. Let me accompany you." The two of us continued until we reached the changing room. I began to strip and take the stable stud gear out of my backpack -  hood, pouch, collar and straps. Zhenya leaned against some lockers as I changed and gave me a lascivious once-over.

"I vant to compliment you on zhe quality of zhe slaves you are making for us, Inti. I know Dani has mentioned zis to you, but I vish to express my appreciation as vell. All of zhem are in such amazing physical shape and almost all of zhem are ready and truly eager to serve zheir new masters."

"Almost?" 

He shrugged. "Ahhhh... Zhere is one... Barry... Bullet...???"

"Beckett?"

He shrugged. "Yes, yes, zhat is zhe one. He still moons over you like a lovesick calf. Dani, Baz and I have made sure he is given extra fuckings, fistings and punishments to break him of this... fancy... to you, but vith limited success. He is determined to please his new owner, but he is not hungry to do so ... if you understand vhat I am saying."

"Do you want me to talk to him?"

Zhenya shook his head. "Zat would not be wise. Zhe less contact vith you, zhe better chance ve have of finally making him zhe perfect slave for his new master." He paused.  "Do you sink you may be able to manage an additional location? Zhe slaves you train consistently get zhe highest prices from our customers in zhe Middle East, Europe and South America."

I was pulling the eyeless latex hood over my head. "I'm not sure. I spend a lot of time with the recruits and a lot of physical contact. I don't know if giving them less attention would decrease the quality. What about Lasse? I've seen him in action here. He's really good." Lasse was another one of the stable studs at the sex club and had been trained by Baz as well. He was a very tall, very muscular Norwegian.

He made a face. "He is not consistent and often lacks zhe gentle temperament zat you possess. He is very good vith training slaves once zheir mindset has changed, but he becomes harsh and impatient vith zhe raw material. Unlike you."

"Let me think about it, Zhenya. I still have my part-time job as a security guard..." I grinned at him as I fastened the collar around my neck. "...and I still need to satisfy my not-inconsiderable appetites with real men." 

He laughed. "Please consider it, Inti. Ve vould make it very worth your vhile." He checked his watch. "Gavno! ("Shit!", ed.) I must supervise zhe transport of several slaves to Abu Dhabi. In zhe meantime, zhere is somesing zhat requires your immediate attention..." His cock looked like was about to burst out of his trousers.

He gave me a wicked grin and a wink. I returned the smile, knelt in front of him and unzipped his pants.

 * * * 

CHUY/CHARLIE

Tito and I walked down the corridor and could hear Dani's voice. He was on the phone. As usual, the club's co-owner was chewing someone out and threatening physical harm. Knowing Dani, we knew it wasn't an idle threat and he would enjoy doing it personally. Once we heard the phone slam down, We ambled into the office and gave him a big grin.

"Hey Mr. Stewart! You lookin' for some horny Latino stallions for your club? 'Cause we like fuckin' an' fistin' anything with a pulse!" Tito crossed his arms over his chest.

I chimed in. "An' we like gettin' fucked an' fisted by big black motherfuckers like you any chance we can get!"

Dani's mouth dropped open in shock. "Charlie? Tony? Ah cain't bee-leeve it! Ah cain hear yo' whiteboy voices, but you lookz compleetly diff'rent! Dis is fuckin' amazin!"

We plopped down and manspread into the chairs in front of his desk. "New conditioning, too. We automatically sound like south american cops when we're not with anyone from the Four-One. I'm 'Chuy Calderon' from Guatemala and this is 'Tito Mendoza' from Mexico."

Tito switched to his spanglish. "See, señor? We sound real diff'rent when we talk like the Latinos we are now!"

"Dayumm..." He looked hard at us and shook his head. "If'n Ah try reely hard, Ah cain see a bit ov da old you, but itz almos' impossible... you iz two reel handsumm ruff-trade brown-skinn'd fuckers now..."

"I came up with this new 'Exchange Program' that Cap agreed to. We're doing a 'South of the Border' exchange with other cops. We're also hoping Cap will let us go for a permanent Conversion like you this time." 

Tony chimed in. "So we'd switch from Latino cops to black felons and back. We would never be just white guys ever again!"

Dani grinned. "Dayumm... dat'll be like Christmas ev'ry day!!!"

"The three of us were talking about the video. We thought about re-doing Mattie's 'graduation' with Tito here taking his place and Inti and me doing the penetrations."

The muscled black man drummed his fingers on the desk. "Tony menshunn'd dat. Not bad... but Ah thinkz Ah'd wanna do some stuff befo' da actual fuckin' an' fistin' ... we gotta hav summ backstory..."

He snapped his fingers. "Yeah! Tito gotz hiz hand in summ bizness an' he's gotta be taught a lesson! We can beat da shit outta him first, chain 'im up, do summ electro an' d'en we get to skullfuck 'im an' rape an' fist hiz ass!"

At our surprised looks, the manager chuckled. "We do bruise makeup fo' da beatin' an' da tree ov you cain get summ perspective trainin' on how to attack on camera t'make it look reely reel." He grinned. "But the electro an' fuckin' haz gotta be authentic!"

He frowned. "Did Inti cumm wiff you? Where iz he?"

At that point, our slave knocked on the door frame and came in. All of us were surprised to see him in his stable stud outfit - naked except for a latex jockpouch and straps around his wrists and ankles. A featureless and eyeless black latex hood was pulled over his head and a thick collar was fastened around his neck.

"Why are you dressed like that?"

Inti grinned. "Dani's place, Dani's rules. I'm only a piece of meat ready for sucking, fucking and fisting."

The black man shook his head. "If'n you wantz t'be doin' dat stuff when you iz here, Mattie, dat's alwayz fine wiff me. But you don' hafta do it? Unnerstan'? You cain alwayz cumm here an' do whatevva you wantz." 

Inti looked surprised. "Wow. Thanks Dani... but I'm not 'Mattie' any more... I'm not an independent person. You made me realize that. I'm 'Inti'. I'm only property now, even though I'm a pro-grade stable stud. If you want me in something else, you tell me."

Dani grinned and continued. "Okay, fo' da video today, Ah wanna see yo' face." 

Inti nodded in agreement. "Yes, Sir."

"Letz go see Jaysean 'bout wat we're gonna do." He stood up. "Dis way." 

* * *

TITO/TONY 

The four of us ambled out of Dani's office and down a couple of corridors until we reached what looked to be a medium-sized television studio. There were several sets with technicians swarming over them; Dani continued through the controlled chaos until we got to another smaller and quieter area.

"Jaysean? You here?"

"At the edit bench, boss!"

We continued into the room to find a half-naked, muscular, young black guy looking at three screens at once and rapidly typing commands onto a keyboard. He had a short fade cut and black-rimmed circular eyeglasses. He was wearing a leather chest harness and snug blue jeans covered long, powerful legs. He finished whatever he was doing and turned around to give us a happy grin.

"Hey boss, hey Inti... what's up? Just wrapping up that last video with Lasse and some new slaves."

Dani pulled him into a hug. "Jaysean iz our cree-ay-tive die-rector." He turned his attention back to the young black man.  "R'memba Ah sed we wuz gonna do a video t'day wiff Inti and his ownerz? Dis is Chuy an' dat is Tito." He turned to Inti. "Take dat mask,  collar an' da res' ov dat shit off"

Inti removed the latex mask and restraints, leaving only his jockpouch straining to contain his massive equipment.

Jaysean eyes widened and whistled "Wow... you two are not only built, but all of you are handsome as fuck! Jeez, Inti ... I didn't know you were this HOT!"

I chuckled. "Igual, amigo... You too." (Damn, he looked and acted just like a black version of Zack...)

"Ah wuz thinkin' we cood do sumpthin' like dat "graduation" we dunn wiff Mattie. Tito's gonna be da one on da receivin' end. But Ah wantz t'do summ beatdowns an' electro befo' we do all da fuckin' an' fistin'..."

Jaysean made a face. "We don't have those props or that set any more, boss. First off, Why is Tito being tortured?" (It was amazing how those two were building the video before our very eyes. I was getting harder by the minute, and looking over at Chuy, I could tell he was too.)

"He gotz caught stickin' hiz nose in summ bizness..."

The director rubbed his chin and looked at the dreadlocked black man. "Is Tito your employee or an infiltrator?"

Dani grinned. "Shee-it... Ah didn' think ov dat..."

Jaysean nodded. "Infilitrator. That gives us a better reason to really go at him full bore." 

Chuy chimed in. "We - me an' Inti - are gonna beat up Tito, ¿Verdad? Dani said that we should get some... 'perspective trainin' ... first?" Because of Jaysean's presence, Chuy automatically had switched to his noticeable Spanglish accent.

The director nodded. "Connor's around. He's our fight choreographer. You guys look like you know hand-to-hand... am I right?"

My lover nodded. "Sí, Tito an' me are agentes de policía. I'm from Guatemala - lo mismo que Inti. Tito is from Mexico."

"That'll make it easier. Let's get the fight training done first, do the capture and beat down, then the wound makeup. I'll work on the set design for your electro and then your violation by two Guatemalan enforcers!"

Dani cleared his throat. "Don' forgit a black muthafucka skullfuckin' 'im at da same time!" 

* * *

Dani excused himself while. Jaysean continued with us and we walked to another area of warehouse. 

"I didn't think this place was so big..."

Jaysean responded. "It wasn't. We've been buying the surrounding real estate and connecting it above and below ground." He stopped.

"We call this the "fight pit" - it sort of resembles an old greek ampitheater with a round center and a padded floor and tiered seating. We do gladiatorial fights here and the loser of each fight get fucked by the entire fight team. It's one of the few times that the chastity devices are removed from the slaves, so it makes it a real treat for them. Fortunately, at this stage of their training, they're pretty much used to be cocklocked all the time."

We continued along to a training area where several young slaves were grappling at the direction of a large, well-muscled man shouting at them in a heavy Cockney accent. He had a short mohawk and was wearing bleacher jeans with 18-eyelet boots. Chuy gave me a nudge. "Mira su culo..." ("Look at his ass.", ed.) and I noticed that the jeans also sported a hidden, but full back zipper.

"Connor! We need you for a moment!" The mohawked man gave more directions to the group and came over.

Jaysean introduced us. "Chuy and Inti will be beating Tito bloody for a video. They need some guidance and practice to make it look authentic on camera." 

Connor nodded, put his fingers to his lips and gave a sharp whistle. "Harry, love! I need you for a tick!"

From the group of young men, a sweaty bald bodybuilder trotted over. He was wearing only a latex jockpouch that barely contained a considerable set of cock and balls and a bar code was tattooed onto his left pec and between his muscular shoulders.  "Good morning, Mr. Jackson... hey Inti!!!" 

Connor pulled him into an embrace, gave him a kiss and continued to caress the sweaty torso. "Gents, this is Harry, my prime gladiator and the finest piece of property I've ever owned."

Inti grinned and turned to us. "Harry was one of the first slaves I ever trained." 

The gladiator smiled at the larger man and snuggled further into his embrace. "My master spoils me rotten! How can I help you, Sirs?"

"Harry, Inti and Chuy are going to be doing a battery video with Tito here. Now, while I'm sure these two could do a magnificent job if they were actually beating the shit out of him, we just want it to look as authentic as possible. Would you help them out with movements and technique?"

Jaysean gave us a grin and a thumbs up. "I'll leave you in Connor and Harry's capable hands. I've got some work to do on getting the sets and props ready. See you in a bit."

Harry picked out three of the other young gladiators and gave us a big grin. He motioned us to follow them. Once we got to a more secluded area of the large exercise room, Harry started explaining how fight choreography works.

"OK Sirs, before we get into the actual practice, I want to talk a little bit of the mindset you all need to have and some reactions you should focus on."

The young slave turned to me. 

"Sir, the first thing to be aware of is 'the sell' -  the person being beaten is often the most important part of the choreography. Your ability to 'sell' your pain and agony is what makes the scene believable. This means showing every flinch, every wince and every apparent moment of agony that you're experiencing."

"When you're hit, Tito, your body shouldn't be stiff. It should react like a ragdoll, with your limbs flailing and your body crumpling. This makes the blows look more powerful and you more vulnerable. As the beating progresses, you should show signs of injury. A leg might give out or you might struggle to keep your balance. The physical degradation of your character is a vital part of the story. Since Chuy and Inti will be the ones doing the beating, I'm sure Jaysean is going to have two other people immobilizing you, so work with them to struggle more at the start of the beating and then let them support more and more of your body weight as the beating continues."

"Always remember the 'follow-thru' whenever you get hit. The power of a strike is sold not just by the punch itself, but by the reaction. A real beating shows your head snapping back, your body recoiling, and you falling against a wall or to the ground - or trying to - in your case. There is no instant recovery."

He then spoke to Inti and Chuy.  "Remember over-commitment and imbalance. Real punches often involve over-commitment, leaving the aggressor off-balance. The person being beaten will not be perfectly balanced to receive a blow; they will be reeling and flailing. This unsteadiness is key to selling the realism."

"Finally, the 'why' - the emotional content - is just as important as the 'how' - the actual beating. A realistic beating isn't a series of cool moves. In this scenario, it's going to be an act of pure malice. The choreography must be driven by the characters' emotional state. The aggressors are fighting with uncontrolled, animalistic glee.  Are you trying to survive or simply endure? Are you defiant? Do you start to feel fear? Hopelessness? Jaysean will give you some cues too. The beating should serve the story. It's not just for spectacle. The audience should feel the weight of the scene, not just see the punches."

"Okay, enough of me talking. Let's give you some concrete examples. Tommy, Sam, grab Joao by the arms and hold him tight."

The other slaves followed the gladiator's instructions. "Now when you're immbolized like this, struggle and try to break free. Defiance is great at this point before the actual beating. Since you're newbies on this, we - and you - are going to do it in three-quarter time. Just like a waltz. Jaysean will speed up in post. Watch."

"One, Two, Three. One, Two, Three. Keep the rhythm in your head. One, Two, Three. One, Two, Three." Harry counted out loud as he clenched his fist and landed a slow, faux blow to Joao's solar plexus. The slave slowly tried to double-over, but was partially stopped by the other two holding him. Harry plastered a satisfied sneer to his face and aimed low and landed another apparent blow to Joao's crotch. Joao slowly threw his head back and screamed. He increased the intensity of his breathing to make his the muscles of his chest and abs stand out. The gladiator then landed a fake right cross. The other slave's head slowly snapped to the side and arched his body and leaned back. He let one leg collapse, which pulled his captors in and highlighted their straining musculature, then they slowly yanked him back to his feet. Harry finished with a left uppercut. Joao's head snapped back, then forward and he completely sagged his body so the two other slaves were responsible for his balance. They let him go and he crumpled - apparently unconscious - to the ground. The victim rolled over, grinned and then did a kip-up and popped to his feet.

"Let's do some practice now. Inti and Chuy, Sir... since we'll need bigger guys to immobilize Tito, hold onto his arms and he can practice responding to the attacks. We'll do that for a bit, then I'll have Joao and Sam immobilize me and you can practice delivering the attacks. Why don't you strip out of your shirts and jeans?"

* * *

CHUY/CHARLIE 

After an hour of fight practice, we got two thumbs-up from Harry and Joao. At that point, Jaysean and Dani showed up again.

"You guyz havin' fun?" 

"It was great! Harry is an amazing teacher!"

"Ah wanna a-pologize if'n Ah wuz bein' pushy wiff you fo' dis video. Dis is suppos'd t'be fun fo' alla you. You still wanna do da beatdown an' electro befo' we get down to da fuckin' an' fistin'?"

I turned to Tito and winked. "Up to you, puto..." He pulled me into a kiss. "Por supuesto ... you can't imagine what I'm gonna do to the two of you later for this..." 

"Ah gotz summ wardrobe fo' you too. Letz go back to da changin' room."

* * *

TITO/TONY

"¡Oye! This is really great!"  During the time we were training with Harry, Dani had managed to get a couple of t-shirts emblazoned with the Mexican flag. Of course, they were about one size too small, which was perfect to show off my physique.

"We want to emphasize your Mexican-ness..." Jaysean grinned. "We're thinking that the cartel..." He made air quotes. "... has tried a few times to get involved in the business here. You're the latest attempt. Dani, of course, is pissed off and is going to punish you. No set dialogue - I want you to look defiant and you two can improvise... sounds good?"

"Sounds great, Jaysean... ¡Tengo muchas ganas! I can't wait!"

The producer smiled. "Turn around for me, Tito?"  I followed his directions and he gently pulled my arms behind my back and I felt him fasten a heavy pair of handcuffs snugly onto my wrists. Almost instantly, my cock started to thicken and twitch in its steel enclosure; any type of bondage was something that really aroused me whether I was white, black or brown. Being cuffed was a particularly potent turn-on for me.

He turned me around and noticed my growing bulge. "I see you're enjoying yourself already! Cuffs feel okay? Those are heavy-duty Clejusos. We added steel-colored silicone gaskets on the inside so you can struggle without hurting yourself."

I twisted and struggled, jerking the cuffs and my arms; they had no give, but regardless of what I did, the cushioning was doing a fine job and my wrists felt fine.

I grinned. "Estos se sienten cómodos, Jaysean! Feels real good!"

"You look GREAT doing that, Tito! All of your muscles are really popping out with definition! That shirt looks like it was painted on! Make sure you do that on set!"

I twisted in my cuffs. Jeez, I wanted to jerk off so badly right now...

He turned to Chuy and Inti. "I need you two with just your thongs on. Bare feet."

 

As my partner was stripping, two stable studs entered the room. 

Both were dressed the way Inti had been earlier; featureless and eyeless black latex masks, black jockpouches and straps around their necks, wrists and ankles, plus extensive QR codes on each boulder-sized deltoid. 

One was slightly shorter but more massive; both were grinning. 

"Baz and Lasse here are going to drag you into your meeting with Dani. Everyone ready?"

 

 

* * *

The stable studs and I walked together towards the set; Jaysean, Inti and Chuy had preceded us.

"Are you guys gonna be beatin' me up too?"

"Nah, mate. Lasse and I are here for keeping you upright and restrained, plus any incidentals."

The Norwegian stable stud grinned through his featureless mask. "We are going to manhandle you down the corridor and into the office set, throw you down in front of the desk, and then immobilize you when Chuy and Inti start beating you."

Baz continued. "Of course, we expect you to struggle and put up a fight. Feel free to scream and yell and curse whenever you like, mate! We'll also be around whenever you need to get shackled or chained... or plugged." Damn... between the cuffs and what Baz was saying, I was hard as concrete and starting to leak... 

We turned a corner and found ourselves on the set. Jaysean was directing people around while Dani, Inti and Chuy were already near the section that resembled an office. There was a corridor section that connected to the office. Jaysean finished speaking with several stagehands and strode over to us.

"Hi fellas! Here's what I want to see. Baz, Lasse - each of you grab Tito by an arm and drag him down the corridor. 

Tito - I want to see you struggling and yelling all the time these two are hauling your ass towards the door, okay? You're going to get thrown onto the floor in front of the desk and if you can, fall on your face. Don't worry - the floor looks solid, but it's actually well-padded. Struggle to get to your knees. 

Dani will pick up from there - stay defiant. At some point, Baz and Lasse will haul you to your feet, then Chuy and Inti will start beating you up. Remember your choreography and timing. We'll speed it up to normal later."

The producer began to strip as a technician handed him a bright green zentai. Jaysean proceeded to pull the material over his well-muscled body; in a moment, he was completely covered and the technician zipped up the back. "This keeps me out of the video. I'll be giving you audio cues as needed. My voice will get edited out via the AI we use for production." He pulled a matching hood over his head.

"Action!!!"

* * *

SCENE ONE 

"¡Cabrónes! Let me go! Let me go!"  

The heavily muscled Mexican struggled in the grip of the two massive stable studs that were frog marching him down a corridor. His captors were nearly naked, wearing only thin black latex posing briefs and black latex straps locked around their throats, wrists and ankles; elaborate QR tattoos decorated each boulder-sized deltoid. 

Featureless shiny black latex masks covered their faces. The latino had his hands cuffed behind his back and had been stripped down to just a t-shirt with the Mexican flag emblazoned on it and a red jockpouch that did little to hide his massive endowment. He broke free from one of his captors, only to be thrown against the wall by the other.

"Stop making it harder for yourself, mate ... " The first captor gave the prisoner an open slap across his face before grabbing the caramel-skinned arm once more. The eyeless and featureless black face gave him a wicked grin. "You have no idea what's in store for you." The trio reached the end of corridor, where one of the studs opened the door and entered an office. The Mexican continued to struggle and was pitched onto the floor in front of the desk, falling on his face. Struggling, the captive levered himself up to glare at the three men in front of him. 

Jaysean spoke in a stage whisper - "Curse and spit at them, Tito."

"¡Malparidos!" He spat.

Dani Stewart, the powerfully muscled and dreadlocked black man, sat behind the desk and gave the captive an appraising look. On either side, two hyper-dieseled Latinos stood in a relaxed, but watchful stance. Like the Mexican, both were completely hairless, and like his captors, both were nearly naked; one wore an electric blue jockpouch and the other, a black latex one - that one also sported QR codes on his shoulders as well.

"Hmmm... seems dat dem cartel boyz nevva seem t'learn..." He looked at the two Latinos on each side and grinned. The pair returned the smile, but stayed silent.

He leaned forward. "Lemme guess... afta you gotz caught dippin' yo' wick inta someboddy, you wuz given da choice of doin' a job on me, or gettin' yo' throat slit? You gotz caught fuckin' Gustavo's baby brutha?"

Jaysean spoke quietly again - "Look like your mom just walked in on you as you're jerking off."

The Mexican looked surprised and embarrassed, and some of his bravado evaporated. 

The black man continued. "Yeah, dat's da deep dark secret dat he don' wan' anyboddy findin' out... Chuy and Inti here had da same problem. Wat's yo' name?"

The captive latino pursed his lips and remained quiet.

One of the enforcers slammed his face onto the floor again. "When your master asks you a question, you answer it!"

The Mexican struggled to his knees again. 

"Tito. Mi nombre es Tito."

Dani quirked an eyebrow. "Well, Tito ... seein' at how yo' cock iz respondin' to da fellas here, Ah thinkz you is gonna fit in jus' fine. Howevva, Ah cain't let you off da hook fo' comin' here an' causin' mayhem at mah club."  

He turned to the other latinos. "Beat da shit outta him an' d'en rearrange his insidez." He paused. "Ah wantz t'see yo' armz alla way in hiz gutz. Bowff ov you. Up to da shoulda."

"Sí, Jefe."
"Yes, boss."

All of a sudden, the Mexican found himself hauled to his feet by the two stable studs and held immobile. 

The two Latinos grinned as they circled the desk and began viciously attacking the captive.

 Jaysean spoke. "Inti ... slow down a smidge... Tito, that was a hard gut punch... try to curl up."

The beating continued as punches rained down onto the Mexican's face and body. Many times, the captive tried to curl up in pain, but was jerked upright and available for more punishment.

Jaysean continued. "Chuy - time for the uppercut on the chin. Tito - time to be knocked out. Sag in Baz and Lasse's grip. Guys, on a three-count, let him drop to the floor."

The Latino named Chuy pulled back and gave the Mexican a massive uppercut. Tito's head snapped backward and then dropped to his chest as he sagged in his captors' arms. The two released him and let him drop unconscious to the floor.

The enforcer named Inti turned to the black man. "Jefe, before we start the fistin' and fuckin', what about some electro to get him used to his new life?"

The black man grinned. "You think lotsa bad thoughts, Inti. Ah likez dat. Yeahh... let's chain da fucker up an' zap 'im fo' a few hours. Dat'll take care ov hiz attitude problem." He motioned to the stable studs. "Git 'im da fuk out ov mah office." 

The two latex covered captors lifted the unconscious Mexican and dragged him out of the office, closing the door behind them.

Jaysean raised his hands and gave two thumbs up. "And... CUT!" Great work guys!"

* * *

TITO/TONY

Once we heard the "CUT!" I got my feet under me and Baz and Lasse let go of my arms.

"Crikey! That was fun!"

"It sure was! Gracías for the support!" The two studs laughed at the joke. At that point, Inti, Chuy and Jaysean (still in his green spandex) came over to us.

"FANTASTIC work, guys! Next step up is the bruise and cut makeup you'll need after that beating! C'mon - let's go see Luca!"

* * *

Well, I'm about halfway through the post, but due to some unforeseen events, I'm really in no mood to finish writing the story at the moment. 

The best solution? Break the story into parts and let you enjoy! In the next installment, we are going to see some additional "discipline" directed at Tito, and then his subjugation by Inti and Chuy ... and Dani. 

Of course, there will be a happy ending!

STAY TUNED!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Apologies

It seems that "Miss Prissy" has also been active at late at the site I do most of my image posting. 

A number of images were taken down across multiple years of publications, but fortunately, since I keep an offline copy of the blog, I was able to replace them.

Sorry for any inconvenience.

The New Breed - Outtakes

(For the Blogger censors ... this refers to a work of FICTION - any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. Language, situations and behaviors are only utilized within the confines of the post to enhance the story itself and do not represent any real-life circumstances in any way.) 

The story in "Many Worlds #1 - The New Breed" revolved around some new rookies at the Four-One being converted from white cops to black thugs. In there, I mentioned the possibility of changing one of the rookies into an Asian.

After I had generated the images, I didn't feel that that direction would give the rookie (now felon) sufficient capability to do bad things - in my imaginarium, I don't have a well-formed oriental crime syndicate and it would be harder for a solitary Asian to be involved in  felonious activities.

I also had some additional pictures of Marty and Paul "before" and "after" which didn't make the cut into the original story. 

But I wanted to give you readers a look and you can spin your own stories (or give me a plot outline for something new!!) 

Marty and Paul ... before their Conversion:

Marty and Paul (or rather, Johvorne and Takeshi) after their conversion:
 

 
Paul as 'Takeshi Fujiwara' seeing himself the first time:

Chuy and Takeshi ('Tak') embracing:

 

 

 

The Return of Miss Prissy

"Prissy."

Is what I'm feeling some of the "free" AI generation tools are becoming. 

I was going to talk about this in the afterword of "Many Worlds #1 - The New Breed", but I figured I should vent in a separate entry.No use ruining a good story, right?

When I first started using AI images, some of the image quality was less than impressive. Some examples were multiple limbs or extra fingers, eyes looking in different directions, problems with perspective and strangely moving joints.

The quality has improved (in some tools), but that improvement has also added some additional guardrails that make the process of creating my somewhat "saucy" images more difficult.

Yes, I could probably shell out a monthly subscription for something that would have more latitude and less restrictions, but I don't want to. 

Same reason I don't keep banking apps on my cellphone - if you don't have the access in the first place, you can't exploit it. Or track it.

ChatGPT appears to have the "prissiest" setup. Image requests used in other AIs have problems in ChatGPT. I have to literally cajole the beast into producing an image, saying "please" or "try harder" or "you just produced a nearly correct image. Fix this one item" 

In one case, I had mentioned a "thong brief". This obviously set the internal censors into a tizzy. I had to go back and forth and agree with it's suggestions - something along the lines of "a tastefully designed swimsuit" - what did I get? Exactly what I asked for in the first place!

Grok seems to be the most laid-back. I normally don't get "no go" messages, but the images still don't have the best quality all of the time.

Gemini seems to be the best middle ground. I get fairly good images, but sometimes I need to quit and go back later and try again. In one instance, I generated an image that was very good, but one of the characters had facial hair. Asking the AI to remove the facial hair did nothing after asking several times and in several ways, except to ADD facial hair to other characters, or remove the clothing from the upper body and adding a third arm.

Perchance is a newer product that can produce "saucy" images, but the "look" is reminiscent of some hyper-dynamic comic book vibe. I'm still experimenting with this one, but it definitely has potential.

I'd also welcome any suggestions as well!

 

 

Many Worlds #1 - The New Breed

(For the Blogger censors ... this a work of FICTION - any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. Language, situations and behaviors are only utilized within the confines of the post to enhance the story itself and do not represent any real-life circumstances in any way.)  

CHUY - TUESDAY, 8:02am

"Hey Sarge, you wanted to see us?" Jamie had motioned to us after the morning briefing. Tito motioned to Martin Harris and Paul Raczyński to wait for us outside the squad room. We were currently FTOs to the two new rooks and acclimating them to the patrols around the Four-One.

"How did it go last week?" Sarge had identified Paul and Marty as high-potential rookies - much as we had been - and wanted to get them Converted as soon as possible.

"Fine. We brought them over to Zack's for their initial molds. They were apprehensive at first, but Tito and I stayed with them throughout the process. I'm not sure if Zack let anything slip, but they were a lot calmer after everything was done."

"How about the erotropin and transanabol? How much are they getting now?"

Tito smiled. "About one-fifty PPM in an oral suspension. Those two are really diligent about taking their 'pre-workout shakes' - we're in the gym with them before every watch. Working out with us definitely encourages them to keep up the regimen. We're seeing positive results in their physiques, but they're going to be shocked at the rapidity of change once the transanabol kicks into high gear post-Initiation, Sarge."

"They see what's going on the locker room and they're definitely interested." I chuckled. "Max asked Micah about it - he told him 'Everything will be revealed at your Initiation.'  Both of them are already beginning to use the Crawford cream and wear cock rings."

Jamie laughed as well. "Good! Zack and I scheduled them for Thursday." He paused. "We haven't had any new rooks for a while, so we're going to be really rough on them... I think you two should get them ready for what's going to happen."

Tito gave Jamie a bright white smile. "Will do, Sir! Bring them over to Zack's Thursday morning?"

Jamie nodded. "Get them there around 7am. Thanks fellas." He loped off to handle other business. 

I pulled Tito into an embrace and gave him a deep kiss. "Bien... Hay algunos novatos que hay que follar..." (Well, there are some rookies that need to be fucked..., ed.)

He nuzzled my neck and massaged my ass. "Después del entrenamiento de mañana, ¡les va a tocar un buen entrenamiento!" (After tomorrow's workout, they're going to get a workout!, ed.)

"Vamos. Let's get Max and Paul." The two of headed out to collect our rookies for patrol. 

* * *

PAUL - WEDNESDAY, 5:30am

"Jeez, Chuy ... that's incredible!"

My FTO was doing a series of dazzling acrobatic moves on the pommel horse in the gym and it was amazing that a guy that big - over six feet tall and over 250 pounds - could be that fast and flexible. Tito - Marty's FTO - was working out and pressing an unheard-of 500 pounds with little effort. 

Chuy continued with his workout, then spun around, twisted into the air, somersaulted, and nailed the dismount. He trotted over to me with a big smile. 

"You gotta be flexible and strong to be here, Pablito!" Chuy - like his partner, Tito - was a dark-skinned latino with a shaved head, dark eyes and a beautiful white smile. While Chuy was from Guatemala, Tito was from Mexico - like all the guys at the precinct, they were both built like Greek gods and loved showing off their incredible bodies whenever they had a chance. I was getting a massive hard-on just looking at him - he was half naked in just a pair of compression tights with a enormous bulge at his crotch - and I hoped that my gym shorts hid it.

No such luck. He looked down at my crotch and grinned even wider.  Damn.

"Hey, I wanna talk to you about your Initiation ... it's gonna be this Thursday. After you finish your sets, do veinte minutes of cardio, then meet me in the little locker room, okay?" I could see that Tito was having a similar conversation with Marty ... probably about the same thing. I nodded and he squeezed my junk as he left the gym. 

 * * *

I entered the smaller locker room to find Chuy there, along with Marty and Tito. 

"Sit down, chico... I wanna talk to you about what's gonna happen." He looked at Tito and a look passed between them. He knelt in front of me with an earnest look on his face.

"You see how we act in the locker room, right? We all like pija... dick. A lot. Looks like you do too. As part of your Initiation, you're gonna be servicing all the patruellos off-duty - you're gonna be sucking cock and getting fucked all night, then you get the chance to do the same to them."

As they were explaining, I felt my prong getting thicker and harder; Marty seemed anxious, but he was also sporting a massive hard-on plainly visible through his shorts as well. 

Tito continued. "Because Sarge thinks you two are high-value rooks - like we were -  you're gonna get some changes to the way you look for a while."

"What do you mean?"

"We can't tell you what's going to happen to you - yet. But we been through it too. That's why you visited Zack last week."

"Why can't you tell us?"

"We can't explain that either...We physically can't tell you. Zack will explain that to you too." 

Chuy picked up the conversation. "We're gonna do some stuff today with you so it won't hurt so bad on Thursday. We haven't got rooks in a while, so there's a lot of ... demand ... that you two are gonna have to satisfy."

"Stand up, Pablito.Watch what I'm doin'..." I followed my FTO's directions and he slowly pulled down my shorts, exposing my hard eight inches and the metal cock ring surrounding my junk. He gently took hold of my hips and gently licked the weeping tip of my dick. Bolts of pleasure crashed through me as he continued to lave my cock like licking a particularly delicious ice cream cone. More and more of my dick entered his mouth until my nuts hit his chin. Chuy established a smooth R&B rhythm as he skullfucked himself using my prong. Tito was doing the same to Marty.

I felt a massive orgasm building and threw closed my eyes in pleasure. "Oh Christ, Chuy, I'm going to come!" My FTO made some encouraging noises as my cock slid down his throat and I screamed as torrents of semen exploded out of me and into him. 

I must have shot four - maybe five - loads into the muscular latino before me. He pulled out and licked his lips as I was gasping from the effort. Marty looked worn out - but extremely satisified - as well.

"You're gonna get something to stop you from gagging with a throat full of cock for your Initiation. Tito an' me know how to stay relaxed an' swallow. You'll learn how to do that too." 

Our FTO's stood up, pulling down their compression tights and jockstraps to reveal their massive, caramel-colored tools. Like us, their packages were surrounded by gleaming metal; unlike us, they each wore three massive steel cockrings that pulled their junk up and out, making them appear even more gigantic than they already were.

"We're gonna slowfuck you now... we're gonna go real easy at first, and you tell me and Chuy if it hurts too much. We'll stop for a bit and let you adjust, ¿vale? Lay down on the bench for us. Relax."

Marty and I stretched ourselves facedown over the benches in the middle of the room as Tito and Chuy took some fluffy white towels and folded them up, tucking one under our faces and one under our crotches to shift our butts into the air. The two latinos rubbed some thick white lube onto their cocks from a big container labeled "Hyperlube" and then took a big dollop of the stuff and rubbed it onto and into our puckers. 

I felt Chuy straddle me and grip my hips as his lips gently kissed the back of my neck. 

"Ready?"

"Yes, sir..."

The pain was intense as his cock breached me. I clenched my fists in pain and hissed as more and more of his thick ten inches drilled into my ass. Marty cried out in pain. Tito murmured something to him. Chuy stopped as well.

"You okay, chico?"

"I... I'm okay ... keep... keep going..."

"Okay..." Another soft kiss on my neck. The pain began to subside and soon, I felt Chuy's ballsac on my buttcheeks  - My God, he's got all ten inches up my ass -  and an amazingly erotic sense of fullness. Chuy pulled out and I felt a sudden unwanted emptiness. He pushed himself back in and began a far more aggressive rhythm of pummeling my ass with his cock. Pain was replaced by pleasure as I felt his tool get even thicker as he groaned and flood of warmth filled my guts. My FTO continued jackhammering my ass and I lost count of the loads of cum that filled my insides. I watched with bleary eyes as Tito and Chuy switched places. The Mexican smiled and squatted down and booped my nose.

"My turn, guapo..." 

* * *

I think I passed out for a bit.

The next thing I remember was Chuy pushing something soft, yet firm into my ass, then lifting me up into a sitting position on the bench. He stroked my face and gave me a soft kiss on the lips.

"I put a butt-plug in your ass, Pablito. Marty has one too. Es muy importante that you keep all of that cum inside you tonight, okay? How you feeling?"

"Good." The plug gave me a nice sense of fullness but without any painful stretching. In fact, other than some slight burning, my ass felt fine after the multiple rapes by both latino cops.

"Bien. Tito and me are gonna pick you two up at 6am tomorrow. Make sure you wear some old clothes and sneakers. Don't eat nothing tonight. Jus' liquids. We'll see you mañana!"

 

Marty and I looked at each other. We were tired, sore, our asses were plugged and our guts were full of cum. We grinned and embraced.

"Damn, I can't wait for tomorrow!"

 

 

* * * 

MARTY - THURSDAY, 7:02am

The four of us - me, Paul, Chuy and Tito - arrived at the Brooklyn warehouse a little past seven the next morning. My FTO went over to a heavy steel door and flipped open a hidden section of the wall; dark fingers rapidly entered a code into a keypad. With a loud CLUNK, I heard bolts retract and Chuy pulled open the door and ushered us in.

After going through a short, nondescript corridor, we encountered another steel door and another keypad. Once again, Tito's fingers danced over the keys and the door opened to a well-lit, spotless, high-ceilinged area.

"Hi guys! Right on time!" Zack - the owner of the warehouse - loped over and gave each of our FTOs a strong hug and a deep and intimate kiss. "C'mon in!" Paul and I got a strong hug from him as well.

Let me tell you a little about this guy -  first off, Zack is handsome as fuck. He's got blue-black hair cut in a short fade with a hard part on the left side. His face is all sharp angles and he's got a short, razor-cut designer beard on his cheeks and neck. He's got piercing brown eyes surmounted by expressive black brows and was wearing a pair of black-rimmed glasses. Zack is a little shorter than six feet tall, with a really well-developed physique; not stacked and jacked as Chuy or Tito, but built. He was wearing only a pair of tight rowers that rode low over his hips, a cropped black tank and low white leather sneakers without socks. His skin is smooth and hairless and he's got intricate blackwork ink running down both powerful arms. One on slabbed pec he's got a set of comedy/tragedy masks and the other one is covered by a set of praying hands. Below his navel, he's got Caesar's "Veni, Vidi, Vici" in blackwork script as well. 

He motioned us to a casual area with several couches and we sat down. "Okay, let me tell you two what we're going to do today. First off, we're going to remove all the hair from your body - face, head, crotch, etc. - and then I'm going to apply something that is going to put all your hair into the "sleeping" phase - nothing is going to grow back until I apply the counteragent. Chuy and Tito have this on them right now."

He continued. "I mentioned that you'd see some amazing things happen last time you were here. The next item on the menu is we're going to do is change the way you look. We're going to do some facial and cranial remodeling so you'll appear completely different than you do now."

He must have seen the panic on our faces. "No surgery! No scalpels! No blood! Just some discomfort. I apply a special compound to your face, head and other areas that lets me reshape them like putty. That's why I took molds last week. That's gives me the basis to create the alterations and change you back at the proper time. The compound's effects only last a short while until everything goes back to normal. That why we move quickly making the changes."

"H-How long will we be different?"

"That's up to Sergeant Reardon and Captain Morgan. And you." 

He continued. "The next step is applying several coats of special nano-dye to your skin. Along with the remolding, this will assure that any connections to your current selves will be obliterated. In a sense, you - the you are now - will cease to exist. I'll be changing your eye color, tooth surfaces and voice pitch as well. I'll also be adding some artificial hair to complete the transformation. You two are going to become black men - completely indistiguishable as if you had actually been born that way."

Chuy spoke up. "And with criminal records!" 

At our shocked expressions, Zack gave us a wide grin. "The process is permanent... but completely reversible. All of the black guys you see at the precinct aren't really black - they've been Converted. By me. Chuy and Tito have been through the process multiple times..." He chuckled. "In fact, these two latino gorillas were skinny white guys once too."

Our FTOs grinned. "Well, never skinny, Zack... just not as jacked as we are now..." Chuy flexed his arm as the muscles popped into amazing definition and vascularity. 

Paul's mouth dropped open in amazement. "Why couldn't you tell us this before, Chuy? You - both of you - have been black guys? You aren't even really latinos?"

Zack interrupted. "Because they couldn't. The final step in the process is inserting some artificial memories for your new identities and some post-hypnotic conditioning to prevent you from revealing anything about this procedure. They physically couldn't say anything about this process until I told you about it."

"Who were you before?"

"My name was 'Charlie Hawke' before I got converted into 'Chuy Calderón' and Tito used to be 'Tony McLaren' - we're part of a special trial to convert white cops into 'foreign' latino cops as part of an 'international exchange program'. We're hoping that Cap will let us stay this way permanently. In that case, we'd switch between how we look now and murderous black felons as needed. When we're thugs, I'm 'Rayshawn Johnson' and Tito is 'Benjamin Cantrell'. You can look up their rap sheets in NCIC when we get back to the station."

"Wow..." My cock was leaking pre-cum all over my jock. "How long have you been latinos?"

"About five months. We've been black guys for over a year as well once. That was a deep undercover assignment. After you Convert, it's really hard becoming just white guys again. You can't wait for the next time." 

"I was going to Convert one of you into an Asian. Physically, everything was perfect, but I'm having a little trouble with inserting Japanese into a mind without giving you a stutter. But that'll get fixed soon."

He rubbed his hands. "So... you two ready to become ghetto rats?"

* * *

TITO - THURSDAY, 7:47am 

After having all of their hair shaved off and depilated with Crawford cream, Marty and Paul took a shower and came out looking like a pair of naked skinheads with raging erections. Zack proceeded to rub the lotion all over them that put their hair to sleep.

Paul was giving Marty a strange look.

"What's wrong?"

"You look bigger than you did yesterday."

Marty took a hard look at Paul as well. "So do you. Must be the fact that we're completely hairless now. Must make everything look bigger."

Chuy and I looked at each other and tried not to laugh. With the amount of cum we pumped into them yesterday, no wonder they looked bigger. They were bigger. Now that the transanabol had been activated by semen, these two would start seeing amazingly rapid muscular development.

Zack kept a straight face. "Chuy, Marty's up first. Why don't you and Paul go work out a bit? I'll come get you when I'm ready." My partner nodded and the two sauntered off towards the gym.

The transformation artist brought us over to another area of the warehouse. This section was filled with industrial steel equipment and a long examining table with a large metal box at one end with a rack and pinion mechanism. Zack pushed a button, and with a hydraulic hiss, the box separated into two halves. We could see the outline of a head on the lower section.

"That's how we remold your head and face. Let's do the easier items first." 

The dark-haired artist brought Marty over to a heavy wooden chair with similar metal blocks on the armrests and a long rectangular block in front. A number of cables snaked out of the boxes and into a laptop computer on a table. Zack went over to the computer and tapped some commands on the keyboard. The blocks hissed open to reveal negative molds of hands and feet.

"Have a seat. Let's get the plasticity compound on you." Zack pulled on a pair of thin gloves with an odd metallic sheen and opened a jar containing some bluish gel. He rubbed a generous amount onto both of my rook's hands and feet and in a few moments, the normally healthy-colored skin took on a sickly gray appearance. 

"Okay - put your hands and feet in the molds. Fingers and toes in position." The artist checked the positioning and nodded, then walked back and tapped a few more commands onto the console. The blocks ratcheted closed and a red light appeared on each unit.

"You're going to feel some pressure as your old prints are smoothed out and the new ones and created..."

After about ten minutes, the lights flickered and then turned green. The boxes opened up and Marty's skin appeared normal again. 

He looked at his hands. "Wow... they look a little different..."

"I changed the shape of the fingers a bit, plus you have completely different prints now that are on file with NCIC belonging to a black man named 'Johvorne Miller'. I'll be giving you brand new ID before you leave, too. Now, let's do your teeth."

Zack took a small paintbrush and proceeded to coat Marty's teeth with the compound. After a few minutes, he then inserted dental molds - top and bottom - into his mouth.

"Bite down hard..." Marty clenched as Zack put a nylon strap under his chin and around his head to pull his jaws even tighter together. He used a mini-ratchet to tighten the strap to near-painful proportions.

"Mmmhhmm-phhhmmm!!"

"I know, this one is super uncomfortable. I'm really sorry." Zack looked at his watch. "Fifteen minutes."

Finally, it was time for the head and face. At this point, 'Martin Harris' would soon cease to exist and  'Johvorne Miller' would be taking his place.

Again, Zack slathered the compound on Marty's smooth head and face and waited until the skin turned gray. He walked him over to the exam table and we helped him lay down, putting his head into the back section of the mold. Zack fiddled with some clear plastic tubes on the upper section. 

"I'm going to put these tubes in your nose so you can breathe once the mold closes. Since you won't be able to speak, I'm going to tap your chest. Give me a thumbs up if you can breathe okay. If not, we'll reopen and adjust you and the molds. Then we'll seal the mold and start the reshaping. You're going to feel more pressure than on your hands and feet, and this part takes about twice as long. Tito and I are going to be right beside you, so don't worry." 

Marty nodded as Zack inserted the tubing into his nostrils as the front of the mold descended and mated with it's counterpart. He tapped my rookie's chest and got a thumbs up. I held his hand as the mold sealed and the red light turned on. I watched as the pressure gauge increased and I felt Marty's hand tighten around mine. Twenty minutes later, the light blinked and turned green; with a hiss, the mold separated. 

Marty - or the black man he was becoming - sat up and blinked.  

"How do Ah look?? Dayumm!" He realized he was drawling his words and was wide-eyed as he felt the thicker brow, wider nose and fuller lips that he now possessed.

"Sorta like cookie dough that needs some serious baking!" The three of us laughed as Zack and I helped him off the table and proceeded to the next phase of his transformation.

* * *
No matter how many times I've been Converted, it's always amazing to see the transformation of a white man into a black thug. After five coats of the nano-dye, Marty now appeared to be a naturally born African-American. The voice-altering compound was sprayed down his throat and the eyedrops were applied. After 5 instillations, he sported the same deep brown-black irises as I did. Thanks to the artificial hair, he also sported thick black brows and well-trimmed nappy ebon hair in a short fade. Zack had also punched in small CZ studs into his ears. He was naked except for a black posing pouch riding low over trim hips and highlighting the well defined adonis belt on his dark skin.

"Shee-it, Zack, dis iz amazin' !!" Marty - now Johvorne - was grinning at his newly chocolate-brown skin  and was amazed at his reflection in the mirror. Zack had put some Crest Whitestrips over his teeth to brighten his smile even further. His voice was deeper as well.

"Now we need to do the memory insertion and conditioning. I have to give you a shot to allow the assimilation to occur. You're going to feel a little disoriented, but after a nap, you'll feel fine. Ready?"

The newly created black man nodded.

"Make a fist." Zack tied a rubber strap around his bicep and tapped his inner elbow until the vein popped up. He took a syringe off of the table and injected it.

"Woooo...."  Johvorne swayed and I caught him before he fell and helped him into a chair.

"That was fast."

"New formulation." Zack was prepping two more syringes and injected them into his arm as well, then removed the rubber strap.

"Transanabol and erotropin. He's gotten the standard Four-One dose, so he'll be horny as hell and packing on muscle in no time!"

The black man had a dazed look on his face. 

"Marty, stand up. Time for memories."

I helped him stand and put my arm around his waist as we shuffled along another corridor. 

The artist opened a door to another, smaller, dimmer room and ushered us in. 

I never saw this setup before. The room contained two chairs, a padded bench, a computer and a white machine that looked like a large cylinder with giant pair of attached binoculars.

"Have a seat, Marty." My rookie staggered over to the chair in front of the machine and plopped down, while Zack attached several electrodes to his  skull.

"Marty, I want to you push your face into the eyepieces of the machine and try not to blink. You're going to see a lot of colored lights and patterns. When the machine shuts down, you can lay on the couch over there and take a nap, okay?"

The black man nodded and followed the directions. Marty settled himself in the chair and pressed his face to the padded area surrounding his eyes. A kaleidoscopic brightness filled his field of vision - modeled on the computer screen - strobing in different and varied patterns. The patterns slowly increased in intensity and speed, and the patrolman's eyes followed the intricate dance of  light.

"Wow…That's really pretty…" He murmured.

"That it is…" Zack watched the progress on the computer screen and turned to me. "The artificial memories and conditioning are compiled, formatted and transmitted through Marty's optic nerves directly into his brain. The sensors he had attached onto his skull are showing the synaptic activity increase as the memories and directives are assimilated."

"So that's how we get all of our background info... wow..." 

The duplicated activity on the computer monitor slowed and the lights from the machine dimmed and turned off. Zack removed the electrodes from Marty's head and I helped him over to the bench. The artist stroked his head and gave him a kiss. "All done, handsome. Go to sleep now." The black man closed his eyes and in a few moments was breathing deeply and out like a light.

 
"How long is he going to be unconscious?"

"About thirty minutes." 

 "Can I stay here with him?"

Zack nodded. "Of course! Once he's up, bring him back to the operating area." 

* * *

ZACK - THURSDAY, 11:44am 

Once Marty - now Johvorne - was sleeping, I went to the gym and got Chuy and Paul. The rookie needed another shower before we started, but other than that, the procedure moved smoothly along. In the span of a few hours, another newly minted black man was created.

"Ah cain't bee-leeve how fan-tastic dis iz!" Paul Raczyński - now Tyrese Carter- stared at himself in the mirror. He reached up to touch the diamond studs in his ears and a bright, white smile split his now-dark face. "You sed Ah got a crim'nal record, too?"

 

Chuy nodded. "Both of you have a nice, long rapsheets - rape, robbery, burglary, GTA - plus outstanding warrants. Right now, you're hiding out from the cops by pretending to be cops." He laughed. "You know how inefficient the NYPD is when it comes to background checking... Sarge expects you to be committing new felonies when you're off-duty and if you get caught, part of the conditioning will prevent you from saying who you really... were - only who your fingerprints say you are now."

"Dayumm..." Tyrese paused. "But Ah don't know how to do any ov those thingz..."

Zack chuckled. "You will. All part of the artificial memories. You'll find that the things that you knew as 'Paul Raczyński' will still be available, but will feel like they belong to someone else. Not to a hoodie rat with a tenth-grade education."

"You'll also find that it'll become more and more natural to speak like a low-class felon all the time. Don't fight it - just go with the flow. Sarge will probably send you to Rikers for a week or two. That'll cement your bona-fides. You'll find that being cuffed and incarcerated is going to be an amazing turnon as well."

"When do Ah get da memoriez an' da condishunin' ?"

"Whenever you're ready. I need to give you a shot to help the memories implant themselves properly." I wrapped the rubber strap around his bicep. "Make a fist."

* * *

JOHVORNE - THURSDAY, 4:48pm

I was standing in the operating area with Tito when Chuy walked in with another guy. It took me a moment to realize that the black stud with him was Paul. We both were almost naked - wearing just skimpy black thongs that barely contained our junk - and Zack had punched diamond studs in both of our ears.

His dark, ethnic face had the same look of shock and surprise and he broke out into a blinding white smile.

"Paul? Dat's you? You look fuckin' incredible as a brutha!" He pulled me into a embrace and kissed me with his full lips. Kissing a hot black criminal was mind-blowing... particularly since he used to be a white cop.

"You do too! Dayumm ... dis iz amazin' wat Zack did fo' us! Ah cood nevva believe inna million yearz I'd evva be a real black man!" 

I kissed him again - harder - and slipped my tongue into his mouth. We dueled for control until we broke for air.

"Jeezus!!" He laughed. We both noticed that our ebon cocks were painfully erect and poking out of the black posing pouches around our waists.

Tito winked and tossed me a jar of Hyperlube and Chuy pitched a roll of paper towels to Paul. "Looks like you two need to take care of some business. Butt plugs are on the table. After you're done, come into the kitchen. Straight ahead and two right turns."

* * *

We spent a good twenty minutes brutally fucking each other and after we had exploded multiple times into each other's guts, we wiped ourselves down, pushed the plugs into our asses, pulled on our thongs and limped into the kitchen, following the scents of fresh coffee and cinnamon. Tito, Chuy and Zack were drinking and eating some danishes. The two latino FTOs had changed out of their clothes and were just wearing thongs like us; Chuy had an electric blue one, and Tito's was bright red. 

Zack gave us a grin. "Had a good time?"

"Oh, yeah... we fuck'd each otha's brains out..." Paul chuckled. "It wuz mind-blowin' seeing mah brown handz grabbin' Marty's hipz an' shovin' my black dick into hiz black ass...  how cumm we still are 'Marty' an' 'Paul' - Ah thought we were suppos'd to be thinkin' and actin' like we were bruthas now?? We sure don't sound like white copz any more!"

"You haven't gotten the trigger phrases yet. Have a seat." Tito and Chuy got up and we sat down.

"Ready? Here's we go. Applesauce. Paraffin. Turboprop."

The world spun around for a moment and then everything came back into focus.

"What's your name?  

"Ah'm Johvorne Miller!" He looked shocked as the name just tumbled out of his mouth, then grinned.

"And who were you before you became a black man?"

"Ah wuz Marty Harris ... huh?"

"The conditioning is now active. But because you're with me and other guys from the Four-One, you can express that. If you were out on the street, you couldn't." He turned to Paul. "And what's your name, stud?"

The black man smirked at Zack. "Ah'm Ty-rese Carter... who da fuq do you think Ah iz??" He surprised himself at his response. "Jeez... sorry 'bout dat... it jus' came out dat way."

Zack patted the muscular dark skin of his arm. "No problem. Completely normal. Just what I was expecting." He turned to the two latino cops and grinned. "I gave him an attitude problem."

Tito chuckled. "We'll take care of that..." 

His face got serious. "Now, I'm going to unlock the rest of your new artificial memories." He raised his brows as he looked at both of us. "What's are your Department of Corrections IDs?"

"843932"
"756718" 

"Fucckkk!!!"  The number just tumbled out of my mouth. My mind swirled as I remembered growing up black - always being black; the cheap apartments I lived in; my uncles in lockup; my own stints in front of multiple judges for crimes I had committed; and the numerous times I had been behind bars. I remembered the many times I had been raped in jail by ferocious muscle-bruthas and how I had done the same to unsuspecting whiteboys. I remembered as well that Tyrese and I had been cellmates multiple times with all of the rough sex that entailed in and out of prison.

I looked at Tyrese and grinned. "Shee-it... Ah cain't bee-leeve da shit we dunn..."

He grinned back. "Ah, cain't wait t'see our NCIC rapsheets!"

Chuy lifted Tyrese out of the chair and pulled him in for a deep kiss. Tito did the same with me.

The Guatemalan cop laughed. "Another amazing job making these two lowlife muscle-bruthas! Zack, I think Tito an' me need to work over these delincuentes habituales (jailbirds, ed.) before the rest of the guys show up tonight. You have someplace we can do an interrogation?"

Zack leaned against the wall and gave all of us a satisfied grin. 

"Sure do! Upstairs bedroom on the left! You know where the lube, restraints and toys are! I've got to get the dungeon prepped for Jamie and the other cops before eight! Don't wear those two out too much!!!"

 

 

* * *

Okay, I will be the first to admit that parts of the storyline here have been used before, but I am really trying to keep the momentum going with publishing new entries and continuing the stories of Chuy and Tito. 

Even the best writers sometimes just need to get something out!

We encounter a lot of themes here that you've seen before, as well as some new items... one of which is the fact that the transanabol bestows seriously impressive physical amplification to those who take it. Tito/Tony was never able to press five-hundred pounds, and Chuy/Charlie is performing Olympic-level acrobatics unheard of with someone at his height and weight - an average male gymnast is between 5'3 and 5'10 and between 132 and 154 pounds.

Zack, of course, is up to his old tricks as the transformation artist par excellence, and his skills improve with every Conversion he makes. I also wanted to establish a solid connection between Zack's activities and technology from The Castle. The memory transfer machine, the drugs - transanabol and erotropin, the artificial hair - all come from the incredible minds of those paramilitary, near-immortal boy scouts with ESP and a serious taste for dick.

I think the next theme to cover is going to be Charlie's conversion discovery by his uncle Danny and then probably Inti/Mateo's by Uncle Damien - maybe with Danny's help. Or not.

Stay tuned!