The Telemachus Story Archive

Weaponised Master
Chapter 1
By Tyler Bernard

The people of the planet had been a happy, simple society, cultured and advanced, very similar to humans, just beginning their first tentative steps into space exploration. But the invasion finished all that.


 The slug like Xyxians arrived one day, apparently out of thin air, in small numbers, and at first they were a source of novelty – a strange, harmless looking blob of slime, moving slowly across the landscape. The blobs began to divide like amoebas, multiply, but they were still considered more of a nuisance than anything, just getting in the way, and no one could come up with a suitable way to remove them.  Many years passed. The blobs were more common, but mainly in the very rural countryside, and as yet no one had any worries about the danger they might pose.


But then one day, a 19 year Mazean boy, out walking on a hot, summery day, came across one of the blobs, and decided to have some fun. As many boys before had done, he began poking it with a stick. No response. He threw stones at it, nothing. And then, bored, he decided to strip naked and swim in a nearby pool. After a few minutes in the cool water, his mind, like all young men’s minds, inevitably turned to sex. He decided to masturbate. He lay on the side of the pool and stroked his long cock, happily, not knowing that, only a few metres away, a strange reaction was occurring in the nearest blob, a quivering across the surface, and the blob began to change shape, and a gooey, clear tentacle emerged, moving silently through the undergrowth, towards the muscular boy, who was now firmly pumping his cock. The boy’s eyes were closed, lost in sexual ecstasy, and he had no idea of the horror approaching.


The boy approached climax, his hand pumping faster, faster, little knowing the climax would never come, in fact that he would never climax sexually, or in fact do anything, again...




It was not the scream of a boy reaching a point of sexual release. It was the dry, frightened scream of a boy who had just found a cold, slimy alien tentacle wrapped firmly around his cock and hand. The tentacle had struck at lightning fast speed, wrapping around and around the cock and forearm like a whip, but then the tentacle immediately began to dissolve, flowing outwards and joining into one solid mass, permanently enclosing the flesh it had just wrapped. The boy tried to recoil, tried to pull free, but his hand no longer obeyed his command. Screaming in fear, but totally aware that he was too far out of town for anyone to hear him, he watching in horror as the slime swallowed up his whole erect shaft, and moved up to the cock head, enclosing the whole thing inside a semi-transparent membrane full of filthy, sticky slime.

He felt minute pinpricks all over the affected skin, like the barbs of a jellyfish tendril, piercing and jabbing into the flesh. Then, the tentacle squeezed, with almost unimaginable force, cutting off the cum that was surging to be released from the young stud’s organ. The boy screamed again, and reached for the alien intruder with his free hand, desperate to pull it away from his precious manhood. But another tentacle seized his other wrist, and one round his legs, and his torso. Some sort of anaesthetic in the slime paralysed him, hand still clamped to erect cock. He found himself lifted slowly into the air, and then saw the blob that had seized him, quivering, the membrane round the outside splitting open like a giant mouth. He fought with all his young might but it was helpless – he was immobilised. He was sucked, feet first, slowly inside the blob, and as his struggling head finally slipped beneath the surface he felt the smothering, foul taste of the alien slime as the blob’s fluids flowed into his nose, his, mouth, his ears, into any cavity it could get into.

From then on, the boy remained, frozen into an obscene waxwork, visible only as a blurry shadow through the blob’s transparent membrane, his cock still erect and gripped within his hand, kept alive and conscious for now, as the blob began slowly devouring its new source of nutrients. Nobody discovered the horrific sight for more than a week, and by then there was little left to discover.


And that became the fate of many Mazeans. Anyone who attempted to have sex, or had any other strong emotions of any kind within ten metres of a blob found themselves picked up, absorbed before they could climax. The younger, the more virile the body, the higher the risk, as young male Mazeans found themselves particularly targeted by the slimy blobs. Attempts by the army to destroy the blobs only spread them further, as every piece of an exploded blob became a new blob. Any Mazean body removed from within a blob soon after absorption survived, but only as a dead eyed zombie.  And there was nowhere to hide - no wall, or door, or defence was impregnable to the blobs – they could liquefy and pass through almost any obstruction, before reforming on the other side, ready to paralyse and then absorb their helpless victim.


And as the blobs spread, uncontrollable and indestructible, across the planets surface, the people found themselves restrained, forced to live a sexless, emotionless existence, walking in fear between the millions of Xyxians that now littered the planet’s surface. As long as they didn’t get aroused, or angry, or happy, too near to one of the blobs, they would survive. But the blobs were getting more and more common, soon it would reach a point where the Mazeans could not even find a safe place to  breed to repopulate their species without an evil, slimy tentacle oozing through a wall towards them. They were doomed.


As the society of the planet begin to collapse, one group of scientists, who had been working desperately on a cure, escaped with the minimal research they had been able to accrue into space, and pledged themselves to finding allies, and a way to defeat their new alien overlords.


But at first, progress was slow. They discovered that much of the universe was already infected with the filthy, life-sucking blobs. A few travellers, survivors like themselves, offered help, but doubted their ability to do much. Little bits of information seeped their way. The Xyxians were a strange life form, little more than an indescribable blob, with tentacles, oozing slime. They seemed attracted especially by high emotional states in other species, and then they absorbed their victims often just before the point of ultimate sexual release, keeping them alive and slowly feeding off them until the poor captive dissolved to nothing. Like amoebas, they reproduced by dividing, which made them practically impossible to kill.

But then, as the desperate scientists moved slowly across space from ruined world to ruined world, a rumour began to be heard, a rumour of an area of the universe totally unpopulated by the Xyxians. A small solar system with one habitable planet, with a population of billions. The planet was called Earth. Why the planet remained free of the alien invaders was unknown.


 The scientists had been working on the principal that the aliens were attracted somehow to the sexual energy being given off by the young males of the planet, and they had even made some progress in defining the energy given off during sexual ecstasy, had even been able to measure it on their instrumentation, but they had limited progress in turning the information into a weapon that could be used against the featureless blobs.

One scientist, working alone into the night, suddenly came to a stunning realisation. The aliens did not feed off the energy, in fact it repelled them. They stopped the sexual act before it climaxed, and absorbed the young bodies to destroy their sexual energy, because the energy hurt them. That was the key to defeating them.

Now the scientists knew the alien’s weakness, and they began working on a plan. There must be something about those so-called humans that kept the alien invaders far from their shore. Something they could use, something that could be harvested. The crew set course for the mysterious planet...


In a major city on Earth, in the early 21st century, many years later...


On the last day before his 21st birthday, Zack finished at the building site, planning on heading straight to the gym. Despite having been digging trenches all day he still needed to work out.  The girl was hoping to see him around 7pm, well, she would just have to wait. And if she didn’t, there’s plenty more girls out there, he thought. His fellow workers were not sorry to see him go – he swaggered around the place like he was king of the site, making a big show out of how many more bricks he could carry than anyone else, how much faster he could climb to the top of the scaffolding. As it was a hot day he was working shirtless, and everyone on site envied what they saw – a six foot blonde, narrow waisted but broad shouldered, just a fine layer of sweat and dust over his muscular chest and pecs, but while many of the men, including some of the straight ones, remembered that body long after its owner had left, nobody regretted it when he was gone, because his arrogance and lack of humility became impossible to bear within minutes of knowing him.


Zack was oblivious to how people saw him, for one reason.

Because he was a Knight, a warrior, and one day he would save the world.

At least, that was the recurring dream he had, as long as he could remember, several times a month. The events in the dream were often different, but a couple of images remained the same... the image of himself, clad only in a loincloth, long blonde hair blowing in the wind, standing atop a pile of enemy bodies, holding his sword aloft whilst various big-bosomed wenches kneeled before him, clinging to his legs.

It was basically a series of variants on some erotic fantasy art that he had seen while in the orphanage, but his mind adapted it into his dreams, and these were not dreams like a normal person would have. To Zack, they were totally real. He knew his destiny, as a prince among mere mortals, and if those around him could not feel his power, if women did not fall to kiss his feet when he passed, then they were fools for not realising his power. Could they not understand that he was to be the saviour of the planet?

If Zack had felt anyone on the planet was important enough to have shared his dream, they would have thought the obvious – that he was delusional. Here is a muscular stud with a fantastic body who has let his own beauty and power go to his head, they would have thought. Filling his head with tacky fantasies which would have been better suited to some overactive 14 year old. But they might have amended their assessment if they knew that, at this moment, there was another 49 men, all exactly the same age as Zack, of all races and creeds, spread throughout the planet, who had the same dreams, or similar, for their whole lives, who also were seen as arrogant and aloof because they regarded themselves as better than those around them, all of whom had felt compelled since an early age to work out, through sports and exercise, to perfect their bodies to a standard most athletes would be envious of. What’s more, they were all orphans, found outside orphanages or hospitals around the world, all on the same night, exactly one day under 21 years ago.


Cedric did not have much in common with the 50 young men. He was older, considerably less fit, and he was angry. Angry with the world, with the people who put him down, the smart ones, the rich ones, the beautiful ones. Especially the beautiful ones. He lived in the same city as Zack, but he could have been on a different planet, for there was no similarity between his life and that of the young arrogant stud. Cedric spent his life moving from menial job to menial job, poor, alone, and yet everywhere, as if to tease and humiliate him, he would see them. The summer was the worst, when he would be sweeping up rubbish in the parks, and there would be no end of young, perfectly formed, shirtless men running, playing sports, lazing about, relaxed and casual in a way that Cedric never could be. He lusted after them and he hated them in equal proportion, because his nervous, hesitant approaches had always been rejected, sometimes with public humiliation, sometimes with insults and violence. Ten years ago he had made his last attempt to get close to one of these gods on earth, and he still sported a missing tooth that the arrogant prick had given him. He decided on that day that he would observe from afar from now on, always hoping that his lottery numbers would come up one day, and he could create the life that he felt was his right. But in the back of his mind he thought they would always be beyond his reach.


 Cedric also had a recurring dream. In his dream, he was wearing some kind of ceremonial robe, like some kind of high priest, and he was walking across what first appeared to be a strange desert, pale and uneven, with regular stubby tree-like shoots emerging from the ground. Only, when he looked down, the rippling, uneven surface between his feet was not sand. He was walking across naked bodies, naked, muscular male bodies, interlaced together, as far as the eye could see, all bound, all naked and sweating, all groaning in pain as his boots pressed down on their stomachs or chests. And the stubby trees – he could see they were a field of male sexual organs, erect, pointing skyward, thin sprays of beautiful white foliage erupting from their tips...


He always awoke from the dream sweating, and he always awoke angry. Because the dream world was so abstract and wonderful, and the real world was so depressing and grey. He grew to despise the dream because it mocked him. He would never have the sexy bodies of those he despised laid out before him, for him to do with as he pleased...


And on that night, Thursday 16th June, he ate a simple meal, spent a few hours on his favourite internet websites (the free previews only as he was too skint to join up), pleasured himself in the shower, watched TV and then went to sleep, alone as always, not realising that tomorrow his life would change forever.

Not realising also that, despite his loneliness there was other men like him, who hated the world, who lusted after the young male bodies of those they could not have, spread around the planet. This group was of all ages, there was no physical similarities between them –some fat, some thin, tall, short... but they all had been having similar dreams to Cedric’s, for one day short of 21 years, and tonight, they would all have the same dream. Exactly the same dream, a dream that would send them across the world, and beyond, to a place where all their most extreme, perverse fantasies would come true.


On that same Thursday night, across the other side of town, Zack relaxed in his fancy designer apartment, lounging shirtless on the couch. He had finished with the girl several hours ago. Although she obviously lusted after his body and was more than satisfied riding on his massive dick, he felt strangely empty. She was working his body for all her worth but somehow it did not fulfil him. He found his mind drifting, as it often did. He never doubted his own virility; rather he always blamed the girls beneath him, assuming they were somehow not good enough to ride him, like peasants desperately trying to please a prince or a king. He always came eventually, and then, unceremoniously, kicked the girl out of the flat. He closed the door as the sounds of her curses and complaints echoed along the hallway. One day, he thought, the neighbours are going to complain about all the noise, but to hell with them, they should feel honoured to be kept awake by the noise of his conquests. He did some push-ups, and felt strangely tired – normally he would not sleep until well after midnight, but today he turned in around eleven, and was straight to sleep.

He had a few hours uneven, rest-free sleep.


And then, the dream began. But this was not the usual dream, in fact, this was a dream  unlike any he had ever experienced before.

He was standing, naked except for his loincloth, overlooking a barren, windswept valley at night. Water reflected the moon far below him. A single building stood ahead of him, a large, wooden structure, maybe a hotel or a mansion, painted bright red. The large front door swung open, and he felt himself being drawn inside. The dream was the most intense he had ever experienced. He entered the building. As is often the case in dreams, the room he entered was impossibly huge compared to the house outside, a vast bowl shaped arena, open to a dark and cloudy sky. There was something in the sky, a vague, indistinct shape. He felt its presence more than actually seeing it, and a cold shiver ran down his spine. Something evil was waiting in the sky. A chant began from nowhere, repeating in his head.

“The house of the lights in the sky”

Over and over. He felt like something was being physically burnt into his brain, and simultaneously, an intense sexual experience passed through his body. His loincloth literally dissolved off him, as if burnt away by acid, and his body lifted from the ground and rose into the air. As he floated up he saw he was part of a huge circle of elevated, floating bodies, maybe 40 or 50, he could not tell how many, all perfect physical specimens, all naked. And then, rising into the middle of the circle, a dozen men, of all physical types, dressed in robes like priests, holding their hands above their heads as if in praise. Zack felt a powerful stirring in his crotch and, looking down, saw that he had a firm, hard erection. There was a faint light around his cock, like a radioactive glow, and then he noticed a very faint line of energy, almost a beam, leaving his erect cock and heading towards the priests. The beam shimmered like a heat haze in the summer, almost invisible but definitely there. Pulses of energy began to run down the beam, and these pulses coincided with strong waves of sexual excitement in his cock, much stronger than he normally experienced. He glanced around and saw that the same was happening to all the other suspended figures, and it was clear that they all were in the throes of some uncontrollable sexual urges. The signs and groans of ecstasy echoed round the enormous arena.


 The beams of energy reached the priests, and their entire bodies were bathed in the faint radioactive glow of the sexual energy. The fifty bodies began to spin and spiral round them like some enormous bicycle wheel, the beams like spokes with the priests at the centre. Zack was confused and afraid, but he was also horny as hell. He felt the sexual sensation rising throughout his body like electricity, higher, higher; he felt he could not take it any longer, that strange chart continuing over and over again...


The house of the lights in the sky, the house of the lights in the sky

And then, a surge of energy right through his body as he hit an enormous climax, and a bolt of pure white energy burst from the end of his cock, and the cock of all the other helpless studs, simultaneously shooting towards the priests, who absorbed it, glowed briefly in its majesty, and then directed it skywards...


And an enormous fiery explosion filled the air, the ball of flame expanding, and then reaching the priests, who were protected by some sort of glowing shield, but the flame caught the beams of light, raced along them like a line of petrol, straight to the cocks, and the 50 bodies all burst into flames. Zack felt himself engulfed by fire, his flesh burning, he found himself struggling, choking, trying to beat away the flames...


And he awoke, screaming.


It took him a few seconds to recognise his surroundings. He was in his flat, on the floor. The sheets and blankets of his bed were piled up and in disarray, as if he had fought a war in his sleep, and he realised his stomach and the wood floor was streaked in his own sticky cum – he must have blasted all over himself just before he woke. It was still early, just before dawn but he felt like he had not slept for a fortnight. And his brains felt like they had been totally overloaded. Flashes of images kept returning, over and over. And the chant, always there, rumbling in the background.


For two hours he just lay there, listening to the sounds of the city waking up, trying to calm his racing mind, but the dream would not fade. He was even a little fearful, as he had never had a sexual experience, either in a dream or reality, where he was not the one in charge, where he was not the master, but on this occasion he had felt used, like some force was taking his energy whether he liked it or not.


‘The house of the lights in the sky’

Eventually he stirred. That phrase was going round and round in his head, and, unlike most dreams, it was refusing to fade away. He typed it into his laptop – it must mean something. When he found nothing that added to the mystery in text, he searched images. He froze.


An image of that red house, exactly as he remembered it from the dream. He clicked on the link and found out the house was an old hotel, on an island off the coast of Norway. A voice in his head spoke clearly, as clear as if someone was standing in the room with him.


‘Go to the house’

He knew immediately what he must do; he must go there, to that house, without delay. It was his destiny calling. He spent ten minutes throwing a few items of clothes into his bag, along with his passport and whatever money he could find, and he left the flat, not even bothering to close the front door behind him. He wanted to run, because he knew now he was finally on the quest that he was born for. He had no doubt that he was doing the right thing.


And, in his grim little room, Cedric was also packing his bag. For he had experienced the same dream, the only difference being that he was in the centre of the circle, absorbing the energy of the fifty circling bodies before redirecting it into the sky. He had also heard the words, and as soon as he woke he had made the same discovery on the internet, and had the same urge. He must go to that place, right now.


Across the planet, many people were on the move that morning, some with incredibly difficult journeys ahead, not knowing how they would get there, or why, but knowing they must get there. And, somewhere in the sky above that small island, a group of scientists, refugees from another world, calmly and scientifically monitored their movements. After a long wait, many years away from their home world, the next phase of the plan was coming together...



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