F.E.T.I.S.H. Ray Tales - Lockdown Ch. 02

Disclaimer:

This story is purely fictitious and not suitable for anyone that is below the legal age in their country to view pornographic material. All characters involved in the story are either the age of eighteen or older, and belong to myself. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred. Reader discretion is advised.

Author's Note:

I'd like to give a special thanks to Fidget for allowing me to create a story based on their wonderful 'F.E.T.I.S.H. Ray Tales' universe. The concept behind the 'Raygun' being used in this particular tale was entirely created by them, so go show some love!

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"Chapter Two!"

Yes!

"Fuck the stupid 'Narrative Intro' thing that we usually do, let's just get started!"

Awe...

"Here it is, folks!"

The second installment of a story concept that Fidget has been kind enough to let us use and abuse.

"Woo!"

Woo.

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Chapter 2:

A Night to Remember

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Trixie picked up her phone, scowled, and then proceeded to let out an audible sigh before deciding to finally answer it.

"What do you want, dad?" She asked, laying longways across a black, leather sofa in the pitch-black lighting of her windowless apartment. "I'm busy."

"No you're not, and fuck you." Edward said from the other end of the line. "I've been trying to call you."

"And I've been ignoring you."

"What? Why?!"

"Because you're you?"

"... Fair enough." He said. "I've got a job for you."

"I'm busy."

"Doing what? Getting high with your genie again?"

Despite everything else in the room being shrouded and obscured by darkness, a tan-skinned, pink-haired, large-chested woman was sitting down with her legs crossed, upside down, hovering in place over where Trixe lay, slowly rotating herself counter-clockwise, and with every inch of her body clearly visible without the need for a direct light-source.

"No." The two childish, blood-shot-eyed adults said in unison.

"Bullshit."

"Dad, I'm not in the mood to-"

"Fifty-thousand."

"... What's the job?"

"I bought one of those F.E.T.I.S.H. Rayguns when I was visiting Robert in Imperial, and I lost it at the airport somewhere on my way back."

"Oh, yeah. I see that thing on commercials over here every now and then. Seems pretty sus, if you ask me."

"Totally sus." Omikron agreed, then lazily giggled from where she was floating in the air.

"I don't know what that means, but sure. Either way, fifty-thousand. Final offer."

"That's more than twice what you're normally offering... What's the catch?"

"No fatalities." Edward said. "This fuck-up is on me."

"They all are, dad. But, fine. I'll take the job."

"Awesome. Thanks, sweetie."

"Watch your fucking mouth, you old bitch."

"Fair enough..."

Trixie sighed. "Where should we start looking?"

-----

"C'mon..." Jerry mumbled to himself as he sat alone in the bathroom, examining the raygun's dial and pretending to take shower by leaving the cold water running. "Well, shit."

Among the multitude of vaguely described settings on the gun, none of them directly appeared to be a function for resetting someone's mental state after it had been rewritten by the ray's power.

That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but it did pose a potential problem or two.

First of all, his mother Samantha was likely going to stay an incest-loving cock-gobbler for the rest of her days on Earth. Jerry could certainly live with that, and was still getting excited by just simply remembering the encounter that the two had shared earlier in the garden. Watching how the cleavage of her big, natural melons jiggled around in her top as she forced the length of his man-meat down her throat without any reservations.

Hell, his mom almost couldn't help herself once he approached her and whipped his cock out in front of her face. She acted as if what he did was some kind of long-time fantasy playing out right before her eyes, and was so caught up in the moment that she didn't even consider what would happen if they were caught by Connie, or worse, Jerry's father. In all fairness, Samantha was unaware that Victor had just arrived home from his business trip to Imperial City, but just like her and Jerry, Connie was always home because of the stupid state-wide quarantine going on.

It was crazy for Jerry to have seen his mother throw caution to the wind so carelessly like that, and it was all because of her new, perverted state of mind.

Which brought him back to the slight problem at hand...

Jerry was going to have to be very careful with what all he planned on doing to his family, not wanting to give any of them a perversion or two that would wind up turning him off, at the end of the day.

His sister, now more than eager to flash others on command, was permanently changed for the better in his eyes, and that one was simple enough for him to just enjoy on a casual level. Other options that the raygun's dial showed him, images like a strap-on prodding an asshole, one of a head wrapped to the brim with leather while wearing a gagball, another showed the two head of men with a heart above and in between them, and one was even just the icon of a toilet; none of them seemed particularly appealing on a sexual level. As a goof on a stranger, using one of those could be potentially hilarious, given the right circumstances, but he wouldn't want to have anyone close to him under those effects if they were going to be permanent.

Which they absolutely were, Jerry was beginning to accept.

Oh well, he thought to himself with a carefree shrug, tucking the raygun in the laundry hamper along with his discarded clothes while also thinking about all of the fun he could still have with his new toy regardless of that fact. Jerry's rushed shower was uneventful, and he did his best to get cleaned up as quickly as possible in order to resist the temptation of jacking-off and busting another nut in the shower. Despite now only being a half-version after the slutty blowjob that he'd received earlier, he was keenly aware that his supply of cum and the number of orgasms he could experience in an allotted time window was limited, and Jerry didn't plan on wasting any of what he planned to spill in the next few hours.

If only he were a hentai protagonist, he wistfully fantasized, imagining what it'd feel like to be able to cum twenty-plus times a day and still be ready to go for more.

Sadly, it's as they say: "The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak." Or, as a machine once said while trying to reverse-translate Russian dialect: "The whiskey is strong, but the meat is rotten." Jerry always chuckled to himself when that old memory from highschool resurfaced.

After his shower, Jerry began down the hallway towards the living room, redressed in a pair of black sweatpants and plain, red T-shirt with the raygun tucked in his backside-waistband.

On arrival, his father Victor was the only one there to greet him, and the two gave one another pleasant smiles and polite nods. Victor wasn't stuffing his face, so that must've meant the pizza still hasn't arrived, Jerry figured. His dad went back to typing away on his laptop as he passed by and went towards the kitchen, most likely handling more minor bits of work that came along with being an area-supervisor for a chain of luxury furniture stores. Most people couldn't tell by the modest, three-bedroom home they all lived in, but the Jordenson Family was pretty loaded. So much so that Victor could quit his job at any point in time and have money to support them all until the end of Jerry and Connie started to go grey, but that was only the case if they all didn't go too crazy with spending the man's lifetime savings.

Speaking of which, that might be the direction his father would be heading towards, soon.

Having memorized the locations of certain settings on the raygun's dial, Jerry pulled it out once he had passed the corner, set it to an image of a genderless figure with their hands located in their crotch, and pulled the trigger.

Victor and his frantically typing fingers froze in place for several seconds, and his entire self was enveloped in a warm, golden light.

Jerry was mesmerized by how Victor's transition of movement occurred during the beginning and end of the change. It was very surreal, to say the least. Every slight bit of motion he was producing came to an instant halt, but then slowly came back to him as the seconds dragged on.

Glancing back down at the raygun, he slid the dial to a pair of helium party balloons, wondering what that could possibly mean. It was risky to test a permanent change like he'd just done, but Jerry figured the worst that could happen would be giving his father a strong attraction to clowns, which could ultimately be both hilarious and harmless, he thought. As a result of pulling the trigger, Victor became paralyzed and lit up like a lightbulb once again.

However, before the second glow had completely faded, Jerry had already reset the dial and pulled the trigger a third time, causing the light to brighten back up for a bit while his father's mind was rewired with the same setting he had blasted his mother with not too long ago.

Just like Samantha, Victor Jordenson was now an incestous pervert, he just wasn't aware of it yet.

Or maybe he was, Jerry wondered as he turned around and began his short walk to the kitchen; maybe his father now believes that he'd always wanted to get it on with a family member, then wonders why he'd never done it before once the thoughts arise? It was an interesting question, to be sure, but the suitcase that he'd found the raygun in didn't come with a set of instructions, sadly. Before he could begin to wonder what else the raygun may be doing without his knowledge, entering the kitchen seemed to wipe his mind of anything that had been on it previously.

Connie and Samantha were sitting around the table and having a casual chat, each of them glancing at Jerry for only a moment to acknowledge his presence. Jerry nervously expected some kind of wink or hint from his mother about the moments they shared in the garden, but to his mild disappointment, that didn't appear to be the case. It looked as though Connie had decided to put on a pair of black short shorts, too. She did tend to hang around the house in her panties and a T-shirt pretty often, but Jerry couldn't remember a time where she ate dinner without any pair of bottoms on. That was a weird detail to just now notice, Jerry thought, but her hatred of casually wearing pants was even weirder, so he didn't speculate on the unimportant "why" of it all.

"So what happened to him?"

"Don't ask me." Connie said to her mother with a wicked smile, leaning against her hand as her elbow was ground into the table's face. "Shawna said that she just left him there at the theatre, and she hasn't heard from him since. That was, what, right before lockdown? I think."

Samantha looked taken aback by whatever they were talking about, Jerry guessed it had to do with Connie's insane friend.

"Really?! But Johnathan seemed like such a nice guy, I can't believe she would break up with him like that."

"He did screw around on her with his landlord, mom." Connie chuckled. "He's lucky she didn't set the house that he's renting on fire."

"That-... Yeah, okay. Knowing Shawna, you're probably right." Samantha reluctantly agreed, then the two of them shared a couple of sinister chuckles.

Jerry went over to the fridge and opened it up, acting as if he were searching for something instead of working out a strategy to alter one of the women and have the other not notice while searching through the dial's settings with the gun hidden from their view.

His first thought seemed like it was the simplest one, though perhaps the most impatient and risky, as well. If Jerry could decide on a setting that would suit them both, and then manage to hit them at the same time with the raygun, maybe a simultaneous reaction would keep either of them from realizing that anything had been done. But which option should he choose, with so little time to think?

The doorbell chimed throughout the house just then, and for a moment, there was a sparkle of hope that one of them would take the time to answer the door so that he could-

"Ooh, pizza!" Samantha beamed, turning back in her chair to face Jerry. "Sweetie, go bring it in for us."

Jerry sighed, feeling as though he should've seen that one coming.

"I've got it!" Victor called out, passing by the entryway in a hurry, wearing the same set of comfortable clothes Jerry had seen on him in the living room. His attire consisted of a simple, grey, long-sleeved shirt with a pair green-and-white-striped pajama bottoms, something that complimented his own lean and athletic figure quite nicely.

With the girls distracted and Jerry's adrenaline giving him a crash-course in quick thinking, he raised the gun at both women and carefully, but swiftly, pulled the trigger on the gun twice. His heart was thundering with anxiety, but Jerry sighed a breath of relief as he watched the girls near-simultaneously light up with a now-familiar, golden glow. He was successful in his efforts, and now, thanks to the-...

Whoops, Jerry thought, feeling something catch in his throat at a sudden realization. The raygun wasn't set to what he intended, and had a picture of a mouth yelling angrily selected on the dial instead of a spiral pattern. Without knowing what else to do aside from going along with what might be about to happen and play dumb, Jerry stuffed the raygun in the side of his waistband and started walking towards the table once Connie and Samantha's glowing subsided.

Victor had grabbed the few boxes of prepaid pizza from off of the small table that he'd laid out in front of his house for the driver to set them on,and was in the kitchen with his family in just a few short moments after that. They'd all started eating as soon as they could, not bothering with grabbing plates or utensils and only having a roll of paper towels to use as napkins. Like it was stated before, they might have a virtual mountain of cash at their disposal, but they weren't what most would refer to as "high class."

Everything's going to be okay, Jerry thought to himself as he took a bite of hot, steaming, pepperoni pizza; they've all been hit with the raygun, so the worst case scenario at that moment would be none of them getting laid that night.

It wasn't long before the changes he'd made to each of them slowly began to surface, though, and that's when things became interesting.

"And then, Frank walks up to me and says: 'What do you mean we're out of coffee? How am I supposed to make it to the bottom floor if I can't wake up enough to get out of my seat?!'" Victor said, telling another story about the overweight head of his company was a lazy good-for-nothing. Everyone else laughed, but Jerry wasn't sure if he was the only one faking his amusement.

"Oh, dear. That fuckin' guy never changes, does he?" Samantha said, giving as generic an answer as can be while holding a limp piece of pizza over her chest. A glob of steamy sauce dripped down onto her long, pink tank-top and left breast, causing her to wince and let out a squeak of pain. "Ow, shit!"

Victor and Jerry both gave her looks of surprise, very unused to hearing Samantha swear. She and her husband hardly ever swore, thinking it was just a crude and unpleasant use of the language.

Connie didn't seem to react in any way, aside from cracking a smile.

"Are you alright?" Victor asked, wincing. "That looked like it hurt."

"Yeah, I think so. Goddamn, though. Thank fuckin' hurt!" Samantha said with a reluctant chuckle as she reached for her makeshift napkin to wipe it up. She paused before doing so, realizing that the entire table's focus was what cleavage her top was showing off. Samantha wanted to plainly look in Jack's direction, but the more rational part of her mind, if one could even still call it that, told her to turn her gaze towards Victor when saying her next line, giving him clear fuck-me eyes as she pressed her arms together and poked out her chest. "Wanna' lick it off of my big titties, handsome?"

Jerry's eyes went wide at that, and he expected his sister to shout "mom!" in embarrassment, but instead just looked on at the two with a slack-jawed expression and both of her hands under the table. Being that dirty talk was Connie's primary fetish at the moment, Jerry assumed, at least one of those hands were down the front of her shorts. He wasn't going to check, the scene playing out in front of him was too interesting to look away from.

Victor normally would've tried to play it cool and tell his wife that she should save it for the bedroom, but his thought-process wasn't necessarily normal anymore. Watching Samantha's tits bulging out the way they had unlocked something that'd been recently put inside of him, and suddenly he began to imagine what they would look like if they were twice that size, while just as full and firm as they were while she squeezed them with her arms. He didn't think twice about it and just smiled, leaning over towards her chest giving her exposed, bubbly flesh a lengthy lick, cleaning up the spilled sauce in one go, and then some.

"Oh, yeah. Lick mommy's tits at the table, you dirty boy, you." Samantha moaned and teased her husband, giving Jerry the slyest of glances and winks.

Jerry almost came on the spot, any and all of his fears and anxieties about the situation drowned out by the overwhelming amount of lust and arousal building up inside of him and his painfully erect cock.

Victor gave it one more shameless lick for good measure, one of his hands having taken a life of its own as it reached down into the front of his pajama bottoms before leaning back to sit upright in his chair.

"I don't know what's gotten into you, but I think I'm starting to like it." He chuckled, his face turning a bit red from being partially flustered as he idly stroked himself under the table.

"There's more where that came from, you fuckin' stud, you."

"Jeez, get a fuckin' room..." Connie said with a roll of her eyes, both hands above the table as she tried to push past her mix of discomfort and mild arousal by eating another slice of pizza. "How would you fuckers feel if I was over here getting Jerry to suck on my tits, huh?"

Connie didn't expect the surprised, curious expressions that her parents began giving their offspring, the gears in their minds turning and twisting with all sorts of perverted ideas that their old selves could never have thought up.

"I dunno'." Jerry said with a shrug, unable to keep from grinning. "I think I'd rather suck mom's tits."

The silence that fell over the kitchen sent a chill of terror up Jerry's spine.

Everyone was looking at him in disbelief, but Connie was the only one who appeared to be visibly shocked by his statement. If it weren't for the fact that Victor's arm was still shimmying next to him, Jerry would've blurted something out to try and ease the strange tension filling the air. That, and his mom's face turning a bright red as she couldn't help but smile like an idiot at that strange compliment, both of his parents visualizing Jerry's mouth latched onto Samantha's big, hard nipple while she squirmed around in taboo pleasure.

"That's fuckin' awkward." Connie scoffed, glancing between her parents' expressions for some kind, any kind of anger or discomfort that came from his words. "Right?"

"Well..." Victor finally said, his gaze falling on Connie's perky, but smaller breasts with a newfound interest in them while also wondering what those braless and jiggly mounds would look like when expanded to the size of watermelons. "Your brother does have a point, Connie." He said, giving her a reluctant shrug and smile. "Your, uh, tits are nice and all, but your mother has a better set on her."