Dragons Deep Ch. 04

Needs More Data

==========================

The holopads were running again in the morning, now showing gladiator matches live from Sanctuary, colorfully painted hunks in nothing more than helmets and jockstraps going at each other with shock batons to be champion of the capital.

Pax had his turn at the Sexy Scarab's dumbbell rack, doing pec flies, while Ferryn did pull ups.

The skull-faced Solstice and the skull-masked Arcadius pushed shots of Juice into their pumped up muscles, the same fluid already rushing through Pax' veins.

"Finished?" Quillen asked his biggest teammate. He stood atop the Spider Rider, his hood and goggles in place. "We wanna beat those guys to the asspunch. Come on."

The two heavy hitters chest-slammed goodbye, and the taller one walked off, the red plug up his ass big enough for the base to spread his cheeks.

Pax checked if Bautista wanted to leave, too, hoping to have some more time for calves and shoulders. Luckily, the leader was still standing wide legged and bent forward with Axil's hand up his mancunt, looking like he was struggling to eke out an assgasm while his erection bobbed -- too untrained in anal matters to get where he wanted to be fast.

Mentally, Pax added the barbell press to his list as the Spider Rider got moving. Quillen was on top, leaving the piloting to Yo. Their basic driver's seat was crammed right behind the canopy, leaving more space in the back but making piloting less fun.

#

There was more data to gather but not much. Doc Wolfram had sent them a message with coordinates. If they found bugs *there*, his hypothesis would be confirmed.

Sucking the thick, oozing cock of Bautista, Pax let his own sex organ rest for now.

Ferryn had rigged up leg and arm spreaders for Axil, who was chained standing on the side opposite the entrance hatch. Solstice was up top with his feet hanging in through the top hatch, making Axil suck his toes with a mean chuckle.

"Aaaand we're in Uniform-Romeo," Bautista said over the hum and clank of the vehicle and the wind rushing in from the open top. "Ferryn, set the drone off, rest of you mancunts, keep lookout." He grabbed Pax by the mohawk. "Not you, bitch buddy. Gonna finish this mangasm. Gonna... ugh... real quick... ughhhh."

With Bautista's thighs and abs tensing, Pax fought to take in no more than the dickhead. He felt the telltale pulse of the shaft.

"Thrip is picking up NL7-signatures," Ferryn said. "Error bars shrinking. Beta channel is go."

"Ughhhhuaaa." Bautista creamed his morning shot into Pax' mouth. The gunner gagged and swallowed.

After all his time giving the occasional suckjob, Pax was starting to enjoy the power and manliness his mind got to experience by proxy. Although he didn't quite get the appeal freedick had on girls. No flesh and blood cock even *approached* a decent girth.

"It's just traces," Ferryn confirmed with disappointment. "Bug footprints, minor burrow holes, lotsa fistfucking nothin'. Orders, sir?"

Bautista swiveled the chair. "Psycho kid, your turn. I'll move closer."

"Yessir!"

Pax gave the chained teen a passing ball slap, then joined the roof crew, climbing out between Solstice's dangling legs.

"I feel more, sir," Axil said. "There's lots of Weevils mostly. No Dragonfly yet. They're... moving like this."

Bautista shoved the screen on an arm toward the shackled psycho and let him point.

"All right," the commander said, "There's gotta be an underground trail. I'll keep us parallel. You tell me if anything changes, or if we're about to get a Worm up the mancunt."

"Yessir. There's more of the fuckers up ahead. Unload please."

Solstice squeezed the psycho's collar between his feet and Axil rattled in his restrains.

"Ugghh. Fuck, okay. There's an intersection of two trails. The one we're following is bending a bit left. Wasps and a few Hornets but none are flying."

"Shallow tunnels," Ferryn said into the com of his penguin muzzle, leaning on the ammo dome. "Freshly dug, like the doc said."

"Uh-oh," Axil made. "Possible Dragonfly. I can feel the-" His c-collar's light flashed on. "I see all those... It's so fistin' psychedelic. I wanna..."

The black hunk with the shoulder pads let himself hang into the interior and squeezed the psycho's neck with his thick thighs. Axil got unloaded, rattled and babbled into the spare red bandana over Solstice's jockstrap.

"Axil?" Bautista asked. "You there?"

"Buuuugzzz," the psycho said, very slowly.

"Fistsucker," the commander said, "I need that bitch operational, boys. Psycho-grounding protocol."

The grenadier pulled his pierced dicklet out and shoved it into Axil's mouth. "On it, sir." He started pissing with a grin. "Taste sense engaged."

Pax slipped down past the dangling Solstice. He lubed up and dug a hand into the psycho's ass to the knuckles. He turned on the electrodes Ferryn had put on the teen's inner thighs and Axil danced as his legs flexed.

"Ugghh yeah," Axil mumbled his mouth overflowing between Solstice's thighs.

Pax dug deeper, wrist deep. "How's that for real-life stimulus, bitchass?"

"Hnnng," Axil made, going tense.

Solstice activated the c-collar again, waited for the unload to finish and said, "Breath it in *real* fisting deep, boy. Ground yourself."

Pax put nipple clamps on the teen and struggled to attach the electrodes.

"Th-the bugs," Axil pressed through his vocal cords, neck veins bulging, "more to the right, tunnels are ugghhhhhh."

"Tunnels are fisting what?" Bautista shouted. "Focus!"

"Sir-yes-sir. Going down, sir. Joining a larger, deeper network. F-fuck, fist me, bro."

Pax, in to the elbow, wiggled. Axil was fully assgasming, the chains on his wrists and his leg spreader rattling with the shakes of his muscles. Solstice squirted Ferryn's piss from a bottle into the psycho's mouth. "Drink, boy, stay engaged."

The psycho was only staying upright because of the shackled arm and leg spreaders, electroshocks and assgasms making it impossible for him to swallow.

"Th-they know!" Axil shouted, convulsing. "Dragonfly is paying attention. Gotta unload" -shocks and pleasure- "they're sending some scouts to the surface."

Bautista moved the Sexy Scarab around and talked into the com.

Pax let his fist slip out and Axil collapsed as far as his restrains allowed against the hull. Solstice held him up.

"I need him for *one* more second," Bautista shouted.

Pax rammed back in as far as he'd ever been. Solstice kicked the psycho in the balls.

Axil jolted up. "Nghuuaawagh!"

"Second trail," Bautista said, "are we parallel?"

"Yessiryessiryessir!"

"Describe!"

"Uhhh..."

Pax grabbed the teen's jaw with his free hand and Solstice slapped him - left, right, left, right. Another punch to the balls.

"B-bugs underground, sir. Lots uhhh, Flea. Agitated. Orders to move to surface to deter or attaaaack aahhh fist me."

The c-collar forcibly unloaded and Axil was knocked out. Pax retreated his fist and they maneuvered the psycho to the sofa, chained up but comfortable enough to sleep it off.

"We're out of here," Bautista said. "Back on top, boys, in case they follow."

#

At the center of the sandy zone Papa-Tango was a tower of concrete plates clad in a steel frame, topped by a solar dome, lead hexagons securing the ground around it.

The tips of Oasis's skyline were visible in the far distance - gray, pink-hued needles reaching up between low mountains.

Pax stretched while the team got situated.

Doc Wolfram had already emerged to say hi to his nephew. The scientist was a freedicker and made sure everyone could see it by his white torpedo thong, tightly wrapping his thick, swaying tool and balls. His shaggy, bright white mohawk contrasted with his dark features.

He was tanner than Axil, something middle eastern maybe, with wide shoulders, a body trained for speed and aesthetics, naturally lean muscles pumped up with minor Juice.

"Man, we've been through some shit," Wolfram said. His grin oozed charisma. He gave Bautista's purple-clad rod a slap and got one back. "But it was all fisting worth it."

"I bet," the commander said. "We've had some close calls but your psycho bitchboy is well trained."

Wolfram threw his arm around Axil, nearly pulling the teen's face into his smooth pit. "How'd you like it, kid? Can I send you on more runs?"

"Yessir," Axil said. "As many teams as will have me."

Wolfram laughed. "What makes you so eager, boy?"

Axil shrugged. "I didn't get to do as much. With guns, you know. Just jizzing around with psy-powers." He touched his c-collar and flinched from a small unloading. "And those guys are great as an assgasm."

"Glad to hear it," Bautista said and adjusted his rifle strap. "So Doc, what have you got for us?"

"The data is unmistakable. A new undernest, close by. The council in Oasis is pissing themselves..."

Pax gave the teen a punch in the unprepared abs and dragged him off while leadership talked plans. "Ya welcome with the Scarabs but don't sign the fuck on yet. Becoming a gunner takes a year if ya serious."

"Can I even, though?" Axil asked. "I'm a psycho-fuck. We suck fist at combat."

They walked past three bikes beneath a tarped-over trellis -- heavy, black off-roaders that could carry a rider through an onslaught of Weevils.

Pax shrugged. "I know some teams with psychos. Go back'ta Haven, do some training, Juice up a little, eat as much pussy as ya can cause ya not getting any in the fistin' zones. The year's gonna pass like a cumshot."

"Then we fuck up bugs?"

"Yeah, bitch. We fuck up bugs!"

They both made "Hooo hooo hooooo!" as they entered the tower.

White walls with electronic equipment and rows of black tables. A holopad had turned a blank wall into a silver league superflashball match from Sanctuary over Ultra-brainkill Porntrance Neo-chromegrind tunes.

Wolfram's colleagues were fisting. The bottom was standing with his legs bent and bobbing on the arm, face contorted in superhuman effort as he fought his way down to the elbow. White, with an edgy face on a tattoo-covered, short and broad neck that helped his slim body look less twinky.

Emerald green arm and shin wraps and util-pouches all along his full torso harness. He wore a matching green muzzle with a snake motive. His dicklet had slipped out of the harness' jockstrap and drizzled precum.

"Hi Cope, you ass-slut," Axil said. "This mancunt is Pax from the Scarabs. Pax, Cope's uncle's medic."

Cope practically roared and widened his stance to keep from toppling over. "Ffuuuuhh- One sec, bitch, gonna... assgaaaaasmaaahhh!"

"Cope's a faggo, by the way," Axil said. "If you want your cunt eaten like a pussy, he's the guy."

Pax nodded. "Maybe. Not much of a foreplay guy."

Axil walked around to couple to clap hands with the fisting top. "Beric, the fist is up, dude? Long time."

"All good, bro, we had a Hornet run-in," Beric said, out of breath, riding the knots of a black assplug.

Beric was a psycho, too, but not a teen. Brown skinned, bald but boyish. His unnaturally blue eyes and the c-collar were unmistakable. Aside from the tactical jockstrap he only wore a simple one-strap harness.

"Sup?" Pax said. He walked around, getting to see Beric's "psycho" tattoo but also Cope's spine tattoo -- a circle design running down from his inked neck. It possibly counted something, like the rings around Bautista's forearm.

"Rimjob?" Beric asked. "Don't be shy."

Pax shrugged and stepped in front of Cope. "Do ya worst."

"Fistfuck yes," Cope said and sank happily forward to dip his eager tongue into Pax' hole. It was fun - gentle, soft but eager. Not the path to assgasming, though.

Axil sank onto a table. "Do we know what we're gonna do next?"

"*You* aren't gonna do jizz, fuckass," Beric said. "Wolfram isn't sending you to an undernest. Get real."

"Man, that sucks fist."

"He's right," Pax said. "If this is making pussies quiver in Oasis, it's bigger than your mancunt can sit on. Stay here."

"Don't they need a psycho for this?" Axil asked.

Pax laughed. "Kid, ya really caught the bug, huh? No, nests are pretty fisting obvious." The rimjob was only making Pax want more. He grunted. "Really gotta assgasm, Cope, dude. Sixty-nine?"

The gunner and Axil lubed up, laying on the easy-clean mat, jockstrap to face, digging knuckle deep into each other. The faint, promising heat rose in Pax's guts in a familiar wave.

The rest of the team entered. Cope was quick to monopolize Bautista's willing freedick for a suckjob to the base. Wolfram found a willing ass in Cope. Beric meanwhile did a font-to-front with Solstice, crotches pressed onto thighs, their torsos bending past each other, mutually fisting, just to the wrist. They ended up sharing the knot-plug. Ferryn was back on his electrode dildo, the white rod thundering into him with the Scarab's fuckmachine sent to top speed.

The freedickers were done first as usual. Pax and Axil grunted at each other's flanks as they settled into deeper and deeper waves of mutual bliss.

"Axil," Wolfram said, his white thong back on. "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Can I k- keep assgas-uhhhhh assgasming, sir?"

"Sure but I have to ask you something serious. There's *two* places the undernest entrance can be and I belive they're much better concealed than expected. The Spider Riders have requested Beric. I need to send a psycho with *each* team."

Axil convulsed into Pax. "Ughhhhh fistfuck yessir. I'm gonna fuck up some bugs with these mancunts, sir."

The Doc patted Axil on the bald, mohawk-tattooed head. "Good boy."

"Ya sure?" Pax said, looking at his commander.

Bautista hummed. "If the doc is right we've been missing undernests all over the fisting zones."

"Hear that?" Pax asked with assgasm-induced crazy laughter. "We're recruiting psychos. Ya lucky day, kid."

Axil only shook with involuntary spams.