A Bountiful Harvest

Nicky Noxville

All my stories take place in a parallel world, very similar to our own, where STI’s do not exist, so my stories are filled with practices that are highly unsafe in this world. I’m not going to say don’t try this at home, but take care of yourself.

All my characters are of legal age, and you should be, too—do not read my stories if you are under the legal age in your country/area. Any resemblance to real persons, locations, or events is entirely coincidental.

This story is brought to you by my wonderful Supporters. I love you guys!

And now, our feature presentation…

Whuuummmmwhuuuuummmmwhuuummmmmwhuummmmmm, the strange sound punched through the heavy blanket of sleep that was crushing me. I grabbed hold of it, using the sound to help pull myself back to consciousness.

That’s not my alarm, I thought groggily as I struggled to peel my eyes open. I reached over to turn off whatever was making the noise, but I couldn’t move. The fog of sleep was shredded by the rush of adrenaline that pumped through my veins as I realized that I was bound and upright, not in my bed. My eyes darted around the strange, dark room. There were no windows, just shelves filled with bottles, jars, and scientific equipment that looked positively antique. I looked down at myself and gasped, renewing my struggles against my bonds. I was naked and tied to some sort of heavy, wooden frame. In front of me was an old screen on a stand, and a crackling spiral was swirling away on it, projected from somewhere behind me as the whuum-whuuming continued.

“Hello?” I called out, going red at the squeak in my voice. I cleared my throat. “Hello?” I called again.

The only thing to break the silence was the whuum-whuuming.

With nothing else to do, I went back to looking around the strange room I was tied up in, straining against my bonds the entire time. My eyes slid over strange liquids and powders in jars, pickled creatures, and things I didn’t even know how to describe.

What kind of sick fuck lives here? I wondered.

My eyes fell onto the screen again, and the spinning spiral. The quality was like an old projection, but it was almost like I could see something in the bursts of static.

But…

What is that?

I kept staring forward, trying to figure out what I was seeing in those little split-second bursts. It was easier when I relaxed my eyes and just stared generally at the screen.

Whuumwhuumwhuum…

Any second now…

Any second I’d know what was in those bursts of static…

So close…

Spinning…

A strange, contented coo broke me out of it. I dragged my eyes away from the screen and looked down. Drool spilled from my open mouth, dripping down to a puddle on the floor.

I was drooling?

How long was I?

Fuck, my dick is hard!

I closed my mouth and swallowed, opening it again to take deep panting breaths as I stared down at my erection. I was tied up, staring at a spiral, drooling, and I had a boner? I noticed the spiral on the screen in my peripheral vision and almost looked back up at it.

“No!” I squeaked. There was some sort of freaky hypnosis shit going on! Growing up, it was like every TV show eventually did a hypnosis episode, I knew what was going on.

But the screen was flashing.

Crackling.

Spinning.

Pulling.

So good.

So pretty.

Whumwhumwhum…

Just watch.

Feel good.

Feel horny.

Feel weak.

Feel obedient.

Feel horny.

Feel weak.

Feel obedient.

Feel horny…

“Hey, look at that, you’re doing something right for once,” a deep voice broke the loop I’d found myself caught up in, and I realized that I’d been staring at the spiral again, drooling, and I could feel my dick twitching between my legs.

“D-Dad?” I questioned, looking to the side, looking away from the spiral.

“Happy birthday, Franklyn,” he said in response, stepping in front of me. I sighed in relief; his body was blocking the screen from my view.

“Where are we?” I asked, shaking my head and struggling to pull myself out of whatever hypnotic fuckery that spiral had been doing to me.

“We’re down in the basement,” he answered, crossing his arms and watching me fight free from sleep with an amused smirk on his face.

“The basement? But we don’t have a basement!” I protested.

“We do, but you never earned your way in… You were too busy skipping class and ruining your future.” He said.

“Earned my way in? Dad, what are you talking about…? Let me go!” My voice cracked again on those last three words.

“You’re eighteen today, fuck-up, and I’m tired of all the bullshit. I need a son who will carry on the family name with pride, not a dipshit like you who couldn’t even get into his first choice for college.”

“What are you… I got into college!” I protested, reddening at the sting of rejection remembered.

“Yeah, but not your first choice—you screwed around too much to get in. If you couldn’t even manage that, there’s no point in putting any more time, effort, or money into you. It’s time to shift my attention to Franklyn II.

“There is no Franklyn II,” I protested weakly.

“Sure, he hasn’t been born yet, but that’s why we’re here. You’re going to help make your little brother smarter.”

“Whaat?” I screamed, having no idea what he was talking about.

“How to put this…” He began. “You’ve heard of alchemy, right?”

“Yes,” I answered cautiously.

“Well, our family has a special form of alchemy that has been passed down for generations,” he explained.

“Then why have I never heard about it?” I protested.

“Because you’re a dumb-fuck. Now, stop interrupting.” My face burned, a single tear leaving a streak of coolness in its wake as it rolled down my cheek. “One of our ancestors developed a technique that allows us to harvest qualities.” He left it there, as if I should understand what he meant.

“What do you mean harvest qualities?” I pressed meekly.

“Qualities… You know,” he looked me up and down, “like intelligence, cock size,” he looked me in the eye, “masculinity. Things like that.”

“That’s not possible!” I squealed, struggling against my bonds.

“Sure, it is. It also used to be quite a horrific procedure. Fortunately, advances in chemistry and psychology have allowed us to streamline the process over time.”

“You can’t do this! Mom will—” I was cut off by his laughter.

“Carolyn doesn’t even remember that you exist anymore, and she’s very excited to finally have our first child,” he said cruelly. It seemed unbelievable that this was happening, like something from a novel, but there I was.

“Now,” he pulled a metal flask from his pocket, “It’s time for you to have a drink.” He unscrewed the lid and started moving it toward my lips.

“What is that!” I squeaked.

“Shut up and drink it,” he ordered, and the fight left me. I had expected the burn of alcohol, but instead it tasted more like tea.

Syrupy tea.

“Bleck!” I said as he took the flask away. “That was nasty!”

“Maybe, I’ve never had it, but it’s going to make you feel really nice in a few seconds.”

“I don’t feeeeeeeeellllllll,” I sighed.

“Yeah, there you go,” Dad encouraged me.

“Dad?” I struggled to focus on his face. “What’s going on? Why am I…” I giggled. “I’m horny, Dad! I’m really horny!”

“That’s good, son! You should be horny like that all the time!” He encouraged me.

“All the time?” I giggled again.

“Yeah!” He reaffirmed enthusiastically. “Just relax and let it all happen.” He moved out from in front of the screen, and I was immediately pulled in again.

Weak.

Obedient.

Horny.

Don’t fight.

Weak.

Obedient.

Horny.

Don’t fight.

Weak.

Obedient.

Horny.

Don’t fight.

I was vaguely aware of Dad moving around me, attaching things to me. I kept feeling little pricks, like he was sticking me with needles, but I just ignored it and kept staring at the spiral. My mouth fell open and drool dripped down to join the puddle from earlier.

“Good boy, Franklyn,” Dad said as he moved back between me and the screen. “You ready for step one?” I struggled to free myself from the fog that had covered my mind. I was so horny, and it felt good to just let it all happen.

“What’s step one?” I asked groggily.

“I’m just going to drain off some of your masculinity,” he said calmly, moving out of the way again. The spiral caught my eyes, and… The static was different this time!

Horny.

Obedient.

Weak.

Sissy.

Obedient.

Horny.

Slut.

Weak.

Faggot.

Horny.

Weak.

Sissy.

Bitch.

Obedient.

Slut.

Horny.

Weak.

Obedient.

Sissy.

I stared at the screen wide-eyed, panting and moaning. I was distantly aware that the pitch of my moans was getting higher with each passing second. I felt like something was pulling at me.

All those places where he’d stuck me were tingling, and behind it all the whuum-whuuming continued unabated.

I stared on, and drooled, and moaned like a shameless whore, completely losing track of the passage of time until he stepped in front of me again.

“There you go, Franklyn,” he was holding a beaker full of pink liquid. “I went ahead and took it all since you won’t be needing it anymore.” He reached down between his legs and hooked his fingers under me, wiggling them between my ass cheeks.

“Awww, Daddy, what did you—what!” I squeaked as I heard myself whine. “What did you do to me, Daddy!”

“Shh, stop worrying about it. Let’s get started with phase two.”

“Ohhhh,” I whined softly. “What’s phase two?” He grinned at me.

“You’ll find out in a second. You can watch this time.” He reached over and put the beaker down, grabbing another beaker that was hooked up to all sorts of tubes. As he moved it, I could feel little tugs around my body. “Look down,” he ordered.

I obeyed.

He held the beaker next to my raging erection and turned a valve. Nothing happened at first, save for a faint pulling sensation and a tingling where the needles were piercing my skin. Then my cock throbbed, hard, and a little drip of green splashed down into the empty beaker.

“Awwwww, Dadddddyyyyyyy!” I squeaked as the sensations intensified and a thin stream of green started to run down into the beaker. At the same time, it felt like my cock was being pumped as full as was possible, standing up rigid.

But something wasn’t right.

A powerful pull hit me, and I watched my rigid dick retract somewhat before a splash of green hit the beaker.

“Whaaaaaaat!” I squealed.

“Shh, relax, your brother is going to need that dick more than you do,” he soothed me.

“Ahhhh, oooooohhhhhhh! Aiiiiiiiiii, oooooooooooooo!” I cooed pathetically as the beaker filled and my penis… withdrew.

By the time he reached down to close the valve again, it was nearly full of green fluid, and my dick was… I started panting and struggling weakly again.

My dick had been reduced to a one inch nub.

“Nooo, Daddddyyyyy! Give it baaaaaack!” I whined.

“Shhhh, don’t be greedy. Your brother is going to need it way more than you do.”

“Don’t haaave,” I whined.

“You will.” He disconnected the beaker, placing it next to the pink one. “And now for the last step. Time to take away your brains.”

“Noooooo!” I protested weakly.

“Yeeeeeees,” he mocked me. “Don’t worry, though, this is the best part.” He stepped aside, revealing the spiral again, and he held up another beaker between me and the screen. The tingling and the pulling started and then….

“Oooooo!” I squealed, my little dick straining in the air for all it was worth, and a drop of golden liquid fell into the beaker. I stared past it, at the spiral,

Stupid.

Horny.

Sissy.

Obey.

Slut.

Faggot.

Horny.

Stupid.

I quivered in the bonds as the sensations intensified, and a stream of fluid began to pour into the beaker.

“Ahh!” I squealed in glee as it… What was it doing? What was I doing? Whatever it was, it felt good! “Uhhnnnngggg, guuuhhhhhhhhhhh,” I drooled as the liquid filling the beaker trickled down to a stop. It was full. I heard laughter as the beaker was taken away, but I just kept watching the spiral spin. I felt tugging all around my body, and then my wrists and ankles were freed. I sank down to the ground and took my little dick between my thumb and index finger to start frantically masturbating, still staring forward and up at the screen.

“Guuuuuhhhhhh!” I gurgled as cum squirted from me, but I didn’t stop rubbing myself.

“All done, Franklyn,” Someone said. “You did a good job.” I didn’t really understand, but the tone he was speaking in made me feel good. “I was going to sell you off to the highest bidder, but seeing you like this… Maybe I’ll put you on ice and wake you up on Franklyn’s eighteenth birthday.”

“Ooooouuuuuuu,” I said with glee as another load blasted across the basement floor.

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Copyright 2019