The Telemachus Story Archive

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Chapter 3
By Tyler Bernard

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Part 3

Claudio moved freely through the shopping centre. He was aware of the eyes of the shoppers, looking at him, dressed in that tight t-shirt and those skimpy sports shorts. If he had built this beautiful, muscular body himself, through years of sports and workouts, he would no doubt have loved the attention; he would have drunk up the lustful and envious looks of those around him.

But that was not the case. This body, perfect as it was, had been created artificially by the Doctor through a series of muscle growth injections, and it had not been done for Claudio’s benefit. He hated being enslaved within this walking robot body, but he had no choice in the matter.

‘Walk straight ahead to the stairs, then go up to the food court. Look around for any single males’ the Doctor’s voice said.

It was now two weeks since the Doctor had seized control of his physical functions, and ever since then Claudio had been trapped inside this living coffin, experiencing all the perversions that the Doctor and that slob Browning wanted to put him through. Claudio had paraded naked in front of them, his young body willingly dancing before them, or dropping to its knees, or bending over for them, and his mind had screamed and pulled at the arms and legs, trying to force them to move away, but the superior force of the transmitters placed throughout his muscles could not be overwhelmed. All he could do was try and block out the pain, and the humiliation.

‘Keep going straight ahead’ said the Doctor’s voice

He wanted to yell out to these people around him, to beg them to help him, but he knew that would never happen. He might be freely moving of his own accord at the moment, but one deviation, one step out of place, and he knew that his body would revert immediately to the control of his unseen operator. If he tried to speak without permission, he knew his mouth would just freeze, the words choked off in his throat, and he knew that his controller would punish him as he had done before...

Yesterday, on a test walk around the research facility, the Doctor had given him strict instructions – no contact with others, no attempt at escape. This was the first test of the remote viewing implant, but it could be terminated at any time if Claudio tried any attempts at regaining his freedom.

At first, Claudio did what he was told. A few brief, slow walks around the compound. And then, as he was walking through the grounds, enjoying briefly the experience of having his own limbs under his own control, he had seen a female lab technician from one of the other buildings, sitting on a bench eating her packed lunch. Despite the warnings, he instantly knew what he had to do. Deviating from the planned route, he desperately ran up to her, and opened his mouth, ready to tell her the horrible story of how he had been enslaved by Doctor Mason, and how he needed her help to free him, and to get the police...

But he just stood there next to the bench, mouth gaping open, silent. He tried to talk, to move, to do anything, but he was totally immobilised. Somewhere, not far away, a switch had been thrown, and his body had reverted instantly to computer control.

The woman on the bench looked up nervously at the strange young man, who had run up to her and then frozen in place, mouth half open like some kind of weird mime act. She would have smiled, assuming it was some sort of prank, maybe some of the other technicians were setting her up for a joke. But she felt uneasy. The look in the guy’s eyes was... frightening. She gathered up her things and moved away, swiftly, not looking back.

And Claudio found his legs moving again, but this time robotically, automatically. He was being walked back to the lab. The Doctor’s voice echoed in his head again.

‘I told you not to try something like that. Now you will have to be punished’ it said.

The punishment, as usual, was self-administered. As soon as Claudio was safely inside, the Doctor forced him to remove all his own clothes, then he hit the F1 button, and Claudio’s cock went immediately erect. The Doctor simply removed the leather belt from his trousers, and handed it to Claudio, who took it in his hand.

‘I’m going to issue you with twelve strikes today, as a punishment. You were told not to try escaping. Maybe this will help you remember’ the Doctor said.

Claudio’s right arm raised the belt into the air. The Doctor forced him to look down, at that fine, erect cock before him. He knew what pain was coming, and he knew with all his might he could not stop it. Then, for the first of twelve times, his right hand swept downwards with a sharp, powerful motion, and Claudio cracked the leather belt with agonising force across the shaft of his own cock...

In the darkened control room, the Doctor reclined back in his chair, and enjoyed the experience of travelling through the shopping centre within someone else’s head. Through his headset he could feel everything that Claudio, prototype one, was feeling; from the cool air blowing across his bare arms, to the solid floor beneath his feet. He could feel the dull throb from the boys cock where it had been whipped the previous day (although the Doctor had adjusted the settings so that he only mildly experienced it... the prototype would feel all the pain, but there was no reason the Doctor had to...)

He could hear the soft muzak of the shopping centre, and hear the occasional wolf whistle, and best of all, through the VR headset, he saw everything the boy’s eyes saw, in high definition, full screen, vivid colour. Initially it had been a bit disorientating; there was even a hint of motion sickness, especially when the boy’s eyes flicked from side to side. The eyeballs were one part of the prototype’s body that was not 100 percent under the Doctor’s control, but he had some ideas about fixing that soon.

The implanting of the neural transmitter had been completed a few days ago, and because of the major nature of the operation, Claudio had been confined to the surgery, apart from yesterday’s little adventure. Today was the first big real world test-drive, and the prototype had been sent out, under the Doctor’s control, to really test the limits of this technology.

And prototype one had been fully briefed on what was expected of him. The Doctor needed new test subjects, and Claudio, whether he liked it or not, was going to recruit them. He had already assisted in the capture of the young skinhead who that slob Browning had sent round for ‘conversion’.

That boy, whose name was Daven, had been quickly overpowered by Claudio, under the Doctor’s influence, and was right now on the operating table, conscious but immobilised, waiting. Daven, or prototype two as he was now known, had not yet been implanted with his own neural transmitter, because the Doctor wanted to finish a series of tests on Claudio first, to check it worked OK. Today was the final test, and so far, everything was fine.

Browning had been as good as his word, and had supplied a whole box of the neural transmitters.

As his own toy was not yet ready, Browning had begged to be allowed to ‘practice’ with Claudio again, and Doctor Mason reluctantly agreed, but for half an hour only, as the boy needed to be fit for the tasks ahead. Closing the door between them, so that he wouldn’t have to see the fat slob climbing all over the helpless muscle boy, the Doctor had got to work, adapting the little device, in his own cunning way. He planned to turn it from a one way transmitter of Claudio’s eyesight and hearing, into a two-way sender and receiver, so that the Doctor, or whoever the operator was that day, could talk back directly into the prototype’s ear. Nobody outside would know that Claudio was receiving vocal instructions, issued in an intimate whisper directly into his eardrum.

When the Doctor was working on a project he could get so involved that he could lose track of time, and it was nearly two hours later that he suddenly remembered what was going on next door. He rushed back through to the room. If his prototype was damaged, at this late stage, it could be a disaster...

The room stunk of sweat and sex. Browning was slumped in a chair, naked and snoring. The prototype was standing rigid in a corner, legs spread wide, cock still at solid full hard on position, body bruised and streaked with sweat and cum. He quivered and shook as if an electric current was buzzing through his immobile body.

The Doctor quickly hit the release control on the computer, and the boy slumped to the floor, as if unconscious. After fucking him, spanking him and manipulating him relentlessly for more than an hour, That idiot Browning had dropped off to sleep and left the boy standing rigid, all muscles straining, for a good thirty five minutes as he wallowed here in the chair like a beached whale.

The Doctor carried out a quick examination, but despite first appearances, there didn’t appear to be any permanent damage. The boy’s muscles would ache like he had run a hundred miles, but they would recover. He would get some ointment on them later to help with the pain.

Furious at himself for risking the project like that, he woke Browning and instructed him to get dressed, and get out. Doctor Mason was tempted to tell him that the deal was off, and that his little skinhead friend Daven would not be converted for the fat man’s pleasure, but he decided against it – Browning may be a pathetic sex maniac, but he had his uses. Besides, someone like him would run straight to the authorities if he got his toys taken away. Better to give him what he wants, and be done with it, and try not to think of the things that the young skinhead was going to endure over the next weeks and years. Poor prototype two was in for one long and terrible ride...

As soon as the whining, apologetic pervert was out of the building, he carried Claudio’s limp form to the examining room, and put a cooling ointment all over the tired, strained flesh. There was much pain, but Claudio recovered soon enough. However, he could not stand up properly for three days afterwards.

Back to today. In the shopping mall, the only reason the prototype was free to walk today under his own control was that it was just easier for the Doctor to give him instructions and make him do the work of walking, and then seize control when he reached his destination.

Although the Doctor himself was not expending any physical effort, there was a certain mental effort attached to being in control of two bodies at the same time – he had to concentrate hard so that it was the boy’s legs, and not his own, that he operated. He knew he could retake control at any second, so why go to all the bother?

‘Stop’ the Doctor ordered. ‘Look to the left’.

Claudio did as ordered. He found himself looking at a youngish guy, brownish unkempt hair, maybe mid to late twenties, good body shape but not very toned, wearing Goth-style clothing and clutching a carrier bag with the name of a well known comic book store on it. The Doctor had noticed the guy was doing his best to look at Claudio’s body, without looking like he was looking.

‘Say exactly what I tell you to’ the Doctor ordered. ‘Remember, if you deviate, even by one word, I will lock your mouth up, and you will need to go through another punishment cycle. I might even make you strip naked right here in the middle of the mall and whip yourself for everyone else’s benefit. Now, speak to that man. Ask him “were you looking at me?” Do it now’

Claudio swallowed. He had hardly said anything for a week, and his throat was dry.

‘Wh...Were you looking at me?’ Claudio croaked.

The Goth-looking guy looked up, alarmed. ‘Me? I wasn’t looking...’

Embarrassed and scared, the guy began to walk away, rapidly.

‘Follow him. Stop him. Tell him it’s OK. You’re not angry. You like to be looked at. Ask his name.’

Claudio half ran behind the scared youth, easily catching up with him, in a side corridor away from the main mall. The shops in this part of the mall were closed, and there was no one else in sight.

He caught the boy by the wrist, and the guy cowered in fear, thinking he was about to get a beating. He pulled against Claudio’s grip, but was too weak to pull away.

‘Please don’t hurt me! I wasn’t looking man, honest, please let me go’ the Goth squealed.

‘It’s OK; I’m not going to hurt you. I like it when people look at me. What’s your name?’

‘Caden... my name’s Caden’ he whimpered.

The Doctor’s voice echoed in his head, and reluctantly Claudio did as instructed. He lifted his t-shirt up with his free hand, and displayed his beautifully defined abs to the shocked young guy.

‘I know what you want. Do you like what you see, Caden?’ Claudio repeated, flatly. ‘Would you like to use my body?’

He saw the guy’s eyes widen as he took in the spectacular sight. On instruction, Claudio took Caden’s hand and pressed it against his own flat, muscled stomach. He felt the guy’s sweaty palm pressing against his flesh, first involuntarily, and then beginning to move, enjoying the sensation. Claudio did as he was told and released his grip on the boy’s wrist. The hand stayed in place. The Doctor began feeding Claudio his lines, and Claudio delivered them, in a stilted, uneven way.

‘You can have my body, Caden. I’m horny as fuck and I want to be under you, as your willing slave. I’ve been looking for someone to screw me, and you’re the lucky one. I want you to come with me, right now. There’s a place not far from here, a building, I want to go there, right this minute. When we get there, you can fuck me. I will suck you off, and you can stick your big cock inside me. I want to feel your cum on my face. I want to call you master. You can spank and beat me. I want you to fuck me all day long...’

Claudio wanted to look away in shame, never believing he would say such words as had just emerged from his mouth. To add insult to injury, he felt his cock spring into its erect position, painfully trapped within his jockstrap, as the Doctor turned him on, remotely. He wanted to shift position, to release some of the pressure on his already sore and tender cock head, but he was not being allowed to. He suffered in silence.

Meanwhile, Caden’s head was spinning.

One minute he had just been hanging out in the mall, like he often did, just up to nothing in particular. He had spotted that sexy looking guy walking across the plaza, and had glanced at that body for as long as he dared. He liked to look at the young guys in the mall, and store up their image in his head, ready for those solo masturbation sessions which were the highlight of his lonely life.

He was a shy guy, and although he often fantasised about situations like this, he had never imagined anyone as sexy as this would ever talk to him, let alone offer him what was just offered, just like that... since first sighting the guy, maybe two minutes had passed, and in that short time he had gone from listless daydreaming no-hoper to being given the key to the city...

He had never been with a man (or a woman, for that matter), and now he was fondling a stranger’s six-pack stomach, and the guy was telling him he wanted to fuck... it was so intense, he could hardly comprehend it. He had a raging hard on inside his pants, and he could see this muscle stud had one too.

This must be a set-up, he thought. The mechanical way the guy is talking, as if he’s reading off cue-cards. This guy has some fag-bashing mates outside, and they’re going to beat the shit out of me...

But one look at that body, and that enormous bulge, and he knew he had no choice. All those years of sexual frustration boiled up inside him, and animal instinct took over. He swallowed nervously.

‘Let’s go’ he said.

In the control room, the Doctor picked up his notepad and began writing, as he issued his next order to prototype one.

‘Bring him straight back here. I wish to begin immediately’ he said.

In the notepad, he turned to a new page. Across the top, he wrote the date, and the words:

‘New subject. Name: Caden. Recovered from City Mall. Subject will be prototype number three’.

To be continued...

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