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The Porn Note

Chapter 14: Pumped in Prison

By Draconicon

It was a bit of a surprise to be taken to one of the normal jails that dotted System territory. Though Malcolm had never been to one before, he had assumed that Jonah would have them taken to somewhere much harder to break out of, like a special prison or something. Surely, they'd have earned that much concern from the Lord of System.

Apparently not, however, as they were led through the front doors and then taken towards the back of the first room. Each of them suffered the indignity of a quick scan and strip-search, with him and Taj pulled into one room for it, and Rashii into another. The workers seemed as uncomfortable with it as they were - more so, in fact - so he was surprised that they were pushed through so quickly. If he had been thinking about it, he was half-sure that he might have been able to sneak something in if it was appropriately sexualized.

They were both handed a collar and a plain little belt. Malcolm put his on without complaint, and as soon as they were both on him, a hard-light construction of clothing slipped over him. It was just a shade away from being transparent, and he blushed as he realized just how well it hugged his body. It wasn't something that was meant to allow modesty, apparently.

He and Taj were dragged out of the room again, and were pushed into a long hallway. Rashii was there, waiting for them, and a series of guards - big, burly ones, rather than the unnatural SysSols that had been with them so far - pulled them along by leashes attached to their collars.

Rashii and Taj looked to him, but he didn't say anything, nor did he make any gestures. The mouse was, to put it lightly, broken.

I can't believe it...they killed AMI, they caught us, they're locking us up...why? he thought. Just because of a stupid, fucking book?

It was more than that, he knew. He knew it was a great, great deal more than that, but it was so hard to remember that when he'd just seen someone that had saved their lives wiped from the face of the earth. Jonah had just...

And now they were getting locked up, for who knew how long, while Jonah took the Book of Porn for himself.

And with what's coming...

His sense of humiliation was rising, mostly from the fact that he knew that he wouldn't be getting out of here without getting a first-hand experience with what the Book could do to people. Jonah had promised him that, and the stag seemed to be the sort to follow up on his promises. Whether they were to cure Taj or to make sure that the world never saw the Book again after they were done, the stag would make sure that it happened.

Further and further down the chrome-plated hallway they were led, the air perhaps the purest that he'd ever felt in his lungs. It left him with more energy than he knew what to do with, which was a good thing because of how fast the guards were moving. He had to run to keep up with their light jog, due to the height difference.

They were halfway down the long hall when Taj and Rashii were pulled to a halt. Malcolm started to do the same, but the guard that had him by the neck kept on walking. He was almost pulled off of his feet, and he coughed and sputtered as he struggled to catch up.

"What's going on? Where are you taking me?"

"Interrogation cells," was all that the wolf ahead of him was willing to say.

He looked over his shoulder, watched as both Taj and Rashii were split up, taken to the different sides of the prison that housed their respective genders. He winced as he saw the way that some of the guards were looking at Rashii, and hoped that the snake would be able to handle herself as well as she ever did.

For now, he had to worry about himself.

The guards led him down to the very end of the hall, where the metal wall opened to reveal an elevator. They pulled him in, making him stand between the pair of them, and the elevator started going down. He looked down at the floor, wiggling his toes idly, and shuffled from foot to foot.

"What are you going to do?"

"Up to the Bubblehead."

"Bubblehead?"

"Heh, you met him before, little mouse," the other wolf said. "He was supposed to bring the Book to Lord Jonah before. He's going to be the one in charge of your punishment."

"..."

Oh no...no, no, no...

He remembered that guy. He remembered the alley with the System girl, how she had been raping herself with her hand at his orders, and been completely aware of it. The Book had been dropped when he surprised the guy, and now...now it was back, and that Bubblehead would be wanting some revenge, he was sure.

Not to mention a chance to restore his status. The Bubbleheads were high-ups in Jonah's power structure, people that were close enough allies to the stag to have constant air circulation around their head in System territory, where sometimes that could be at a premium. He shivered to himself. This was not going to go well, not at all.

The elevator pinged down at a lower floor, and they shoved him out of the elevator as hard as they could. He stumbled, only for them to already be moving, dragging him along behind them as he fell to his knees. He couldn't get back to his feet, and was forced to be dragged along, hoping to get enough air as he tugged on his collar again and again to keep it from digging into his neck. They pulled him for what had to be a couple of hundred feet before they stopped, facing the wall.

He managed to get himself to his feet before the door opened, and they pulled him inside. They threw the leash down on a table in the middle of the room, and the table suddenly absorbed the end of the leash into itself. It must have been one of the altered-state furniture pieces that he'd been hearing about. Malcolm winced as he tugged at the leash, realizing that it was completely sealed into the table now. Not tied, pinned, or anything else, but made part of it. There'd be no slipping this leash.

Or the collar, for that matter. He reached up, tapping the band around his neck, and all he felt was metal. Very powerful, very thick metal, for that matter, and filled with enough circuitry to create the hard-light clothing that was around him. Anything strong enough to break it would probably deliver a rather nasty shock, as well.

Great...I'm stuck.

"Heh, have fun, mouse. We're going to enjoy this little show."

"Please...all I wanted was to help my friend. This...you can't say that this is right."

"Right?"

One of them rounded on him, the wolf grabbing him by the neck. Malcolm gasped as he was lifted right off his feet, his head almost pinned to the ceiling.

"You think running around with a book that controls minds is right, you little fuck? You think that the people that died at the school deserved that? My brother was one of those guys that you pulled into your sick little orgy, and -"

"Frank, Frank!"

The other wolf pulled his attacker away, and Malcolm dropped to the floor again, gasping and coughing. He held his neck, rubbing it, as the wolf guard snorted and stomped out of the room, muttering something about how he was going to get what he deserved. The other wolf, the one not named Frank, shook his head.

"Guy hasn't been the same since seeing the body. He's right, though. Ain't right for you to have that power. For anyone. Good thing Lord Jonah's getting rid of it after your punishment."

"You think...you think this...this is any better? The Books -"

"Least the Book of Life just heals. That Death one and yours? Those need to go. Now."

"You can't -"

The wolf walked out, shutting the door behind him, and Malcolm was left on his own. He shook his head, and slowly backed up to the table again. He patted it a couple of times, making sure that his fingers wouldn't start slipping through the strange material, and then sat down on it, turning his attention to the wall again. He knew it wouldn't be long before the Bubblehead arrived to punish him, so he needed to come up with some sort of idea. Fast.

I don't have the book, but he will. That doesn't mean it's going to be easier, though. He's still going to use it on me, which means that he's going to control me. He didn't want to rape the System girl, so he's probably not going to use it to make me do things with him. So...how do I get close enough to get the book back?

That was the question, and it wasn't one that he felt that he could answer. Not without knowing what the Bubblehead was, or if he was bringing people with him.

Alright, different idea. Can I ambush him?

It wasn't very likely. The leash had him restricted to the table and about three feet around it. The door was at least ten feet from the table, and that was being conservative. He could pick up one of the chairs around, throwing it to knock the Bubblehead out, but that wouldn't get him the Book. It'd just piss the guy off, at worst, and at best, knock him out until another guard came along. The math of book aerodynamics and probable throwing angle made it almost a guarantee that the Book of Porn would go back out into the hallway, rather than coming to him.

So, ambushes were out, and so was any obvious method getting the Book back in his hands. Which meant that he needed to start thinking of something less obvious.

He'll come in, probably start writing something. If I'm really unlucky, he'll start writing while out in the hallway, and if he does that, there's nothing I can do. So don't think about it. If he starts writing in here, I have a chance. Let him shut the door, then start writing, and I'll start throwing things. Aim well, drive him closer...How heavy is the table?

Malcolm hopped off of it again, tugged on his leash. It was heavy, alright, but it wasn't fixed to the ground. That gave him a chance, at least. If he could get the Bubblehead close enough, knock him out, then there was a chance to drag the table with him to the notebook. If he could do that, then he might, might just get out of here.

The mouse took a deep breath, and waited.

It was a good three minutes of waiting before he heard the door open. His prayers on one side had been answered. No writing was forcing behavior yet. The mouse clenched his fingers around the edge of the table, sitting with his eyes focused on the widening slit of the door. On the other side...

Was a rat.

The rat wore the helmet of a Bubblehead, a glimmering blue light that surrounded the head and the ears, and wore a soft suit of black and white. He stepped inside, polished shoes clicking on the floor, and let the door shut behind him. Under his arm, of course, was the Book. The rat chuckled.

"You know, I was wondering if I'd ever see this delightful little thing again. After you scared me off back then, I was worried that it was lost forever."

"You were using it on someone that didn't want it."

"And you weren't? Heh."

The rat flicked the book open, and Malcolm tensed up. The other rodent chuckled.

"Oh, you know what it does, I know that. But have you had it used on you, yet? Properly, I mean. It's so much different when you tell someone to remember what they're really like, when they still have to remember themselves while following the order. It's...rather delicious, to be honest."

"And you think that you're better?"

"I make sure that people know that they're being unnatural. You make them forget what they were while they're under your power."

"Hmmph."

"Let's see how you feel about it, shall we?"

The rat pulled out a pen, and Malcolm made his move.

Before the first bit of ink could reach the page, he kicked out and hit the first chair. It went flying up in the air, forcing the rat to throw himself to the side to avoid being hit. The mouse was already ready with another, throwing it over at him, and grabbing for the third. And then the fourth, as the rat ducked forward under it. Almost -

Suddenly, his body stopped moving. He couldn't actually change position, the chair over his head stopped as if frozen in time, and his body refused to obey his commands.

Damn it, he wrote it while he was dodging? Fuck...fuck!

The rat Bubblehead stood up, shaking his head and dusting off his suit.

"It seems that you weren't so pliant as I was expecting. Good. I wanted this to be a punishment, after all."

"Ffffffffffffff...."

"Don't bother trying to talk. I wrote down for you to be an erotic statue. The only reason you're even hissing that out was because your mouth was already open."

Malcolm could only glare, though it was tinged with a blush as the rat reached over and tapped the side of his neck. The hard-light clothing disappeared, leaving him naked from the neck down, and he shivered as much as he could through the magical command of the Book as the rat grabbed him by the balls.

"Heh, you've had the Book this long, and you're that pent up? I'd have thought you'd be blowing your load every which way, having something like this on your hands."

The mouse said nothing, just strained against the power of the Book. It was so strong, but...but it couldn't be almighty. And he had to have something. He'd held the Book for almost a month. That had to count for something...right?

He pushed, and pushed, but nothing happened. Eventually, the rat stepped back, shaking his head.

"Well, this is to be a punishment, not just a simple act of exhibitionism. Let's start with something fun."

The rat stepped back to the far side of the room, and it wasn't until he started writing again that Malcolm was able to put the chair down. He wanted to grab it and throw it back, but he could already feel himself turning, his body moving without his consent towards the table.

It wasn't like any of the other times that the Book had been used on him. All those times, he'd felt himself slipping into the fantasy, falling into his role that the Book had assigned for him. Each time, it wasn't him doing it, but someone else that had been created as a persona for him to slip into. The Book made a role, and turned him into it.

This was different. He was still himself, but his body moved on its own, following orders from something else. He was entirely conscious of it, aware and all too horrified about the fact that his body no longer obeyed his head. Malcolm shook his head, the one part that could move, as he was made to climb onto the table and turn around. His legs lifted up on their own, spreading apart, and his hands reached down to spread his ass cheeks.

"Hehehe, looks like you're already a bit practiced down there. Maybe you weren't convincing people to spread for you, just come to you after you spread for them."

"I didn't...stop!"

"No, no, we're going further."

The rat wrote something else, and the mouse's left hand moved on its own, going down to his ass. He felt his fingers pressing against his hole, and suddenly press inwards. Malcolm yelped as he was suddenly spitted upon two of his fingers at once, feeling them spreading his rim outwards, making him press down against them all the way to the hilt.

"Mmmph! What...what?! WHY?!"

"I want to see how far I can make you do it before you scream."

Two fingers became three, and his hole started burning at the way that it had been penetrated dryly. The mouse's face scrunched up with a wince, but his body kept moving as it was ordered. Those three fingers kept thrusting, not giving him a chance to get used to it. There was no order to enjoy it, so he couldn't just take it easily. His cock stayed limp, bouncing back and forth without any of that solidness that came from true arousal. All he could do was lay there as three -

No, four, now! He let out a shriek as he felt his hole getting stretched further, further than ever. Even Taj's cock hadn't done this much to him. His ass was burning as his fingers pushed in and out, in and out, each thrust of the digits making it worse for him. He hissed and shook his head, trying, trying so hard to pull his hand back. His thumb was the only part not in his ass anymore, and his fingers were pushing in almost all the way to his palm.

Then, his palm did start pushing forward. His eyes went wide, knowing he was barely a thumb away from fisting his own ass. Malcolm shook his head, gasping for breath, feeling his hand pushing further and further in -

"Please -"

"You're not going to beg for more?"

"No, it's too...too much!"

"Heh, is it?"

The rat wrote something, and suddenly Malcolm's eyes just about bugged out of their sockets. His hole went from burning hot with pain to burning and aching in hunger. His fingers were suddenly both too much and not enough at the same time. His ass begged for mercy...and ached for more.

His cock, formerly completely soft, started rising up and getting harder, and harder. The mouse shook his head, begging for relief and for release, but there was no such thing. All that happened was that his hand pulled back, and he felt his fingers and thumbs pushing together.

"No, please! You're going to break me!"

"That's the point."

His fingers and thumb formed the point of a cone as they started pushing up against his ass. Little by little, they forced his ass open again. One finger, three, four, and then his thumb, all forced inside of his hole. His palm followed after, and he was screaming all the way forward, as his ass swallowed his hand up to the wrist.

The way that the Book forced him to wriggle his fingers around inside, the way that his wrist popped in and out, in and out of his ass, made him scream and moan at the same time. He hated it, knew that it hurt, but on some level, some highly perverted level...some part of him was enjoying it, and it wasn't all the Book's fault.

He was made to fist his ass for a full five minutes before the rat made him take his hand out again. Malcolm gasped for breath, feeling the sheer width of his hole now that it had been broken on his own hand. He wanted to look, and he wanted to never see it again.

Still panting to get his air back, the mouse was forced to stand up, made to walk over to the side of the room. Malcolm was made to stand with his back against the wall, and the rat chuckled.

"Looks like you're already something of a deviant, huh? Let's see how far we can push that. Grab your cock, mouse."

He refused, so the Book was used again. Malcolm glared down at his traitorous arm, watching as it rose up and then came down again, fingers wrapping around his cock and giving it a good squeeze. Despite his anger, he couldn't help but moan softly at the feeling of his own touch.

As his hand stroked him, making him grunt and gasp every so often, the rat made his other hand go down to his balls. Malcolm could feel their weight, sense how huge they'd become over time. And now...now they were getting bigger.

"No, please...don't change me..."

"Why not? You changed others."

He hissed as he felt his balls getting bigger and bigger, swelling in his hands. They were rapidly passing the size of softballs, and getting bigger still. They were soon bigger than cantaloupes, and then...

His legs weren't even able to spread, making his balls swell heavier and heavier between them until one managed to slide out and lay against the front of his thighs rather than between them. When it finally happened, he gasped in happy relief from the pain, even as his hand was forced to keep groping them, squeezing them almost painfully.

"How would it feel to never cum again, Malcolm?"

The rat's question sent a shudder down his spine.

"How would it feel to be so pent up that you never think of anything but sex again? To know that you used to be brilliant, to know that you were the smart one, that you were the planner, but that you'll never have it again? Does it scare you, mouse?"

"...Yes."

"Good, you're learning."

Chuckling, the rat started to lift his pen.

"But it won't save you."

"No. But I will."

The hiss of the door had gone unnoticed with the steady growth of his balls and the constant stimulation, and the rat must have been looking at him and the Book too often. When the Bubblehead turned, the bubble popped, punched through by a rather strong, rather pissed off Rakshasa.

As the rodent hit the ground, unconscious, Taj caught the Book on the way down and carried it over. He tapped it against the mouse's shoulder, and immediately, he was free. Malcolm took it, turning to the open page, and canceled out the ball growth. His sack was already the size of the biggest watermelons he'd ever seen, and they didn't need to get bigger. He panted, almost falling down on them, and barely managed to stop himself.

"Thanks...thank god...you escaped..." he panted.

"I had a modicum of assistance there."

"...How?"

"Two ways. The first, of course, was simple. My new nature requires feeding regularly, and the guards were not informed of this. The first fell victim to my need in short order, and - while tasty - didn't really satisfy."

"...And the other?"

"I do not think Crypto is done with us yet. Let me put it that way."

"..."

Malcolm shook his head. As he shrunk down his balls, he tried to consider their options.

They weren't great. Jonah had just proved that he didn't want to make things better. He just wanted to ensure that the balance continued between the Books of Life and Death until he could find a way to clear the catastrophes away. The Book of Porn was a distraction to that, and it had to go.

Greydrone, on the other hand, had just saved Taj, after killing him. The demon couldn't be trusted for everything...but he wanted ALL of the Books gone, rather than one or two. And with everything that was happening, he could see a case for it. And at least Greydrone had helped them, in an obvious way, while Jonah had only ever been an enemy.

"Looks like we're traveling again."

"After getting Rashii, of course."

"Of course."

He shook his head, still panting, but no longer in arousal. He was sucking in more of the hyper-purified, oxygenated air. A breakout was called for, and he needed to make it a good one if they were going to get out of System a second time.

He just hoped that Greydrone would be watching their backs. If they were going to get to the demon, they needed every bit of help he could offer.

The End