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The Goonitron

Written by: TiranMaster

Image by: Forgewolfhammer

Sagan, Milch, and Flock were all in the process of transporting to another planet to help spread the message of their monastic way of life. All three Snivelakians were in various poses of meditation, enjoying the peace and serenity of traveling through the cosmos. They had been tasked by their leader, Gary, to help bring a greater relief to the universe at large. Some of their people were known to be thugs and bandits, but they all worked towards a greater good. “Brothers, do you feel that?” Sagan asked, his eyes opening slightly as he noticed a disruption in their teleportation.

“Indeed,” Milch said, not bothering to open his eyes, “perhaps it is just the flow of the universe telling us that there is someone in need of our aid.”

“Maybe it could be the location of some righteous drugs,” Flock pitched in, Sagan and Milch were trained enough not to sigh. While MOST of them were in it to bring greater peace, Flock was a self-proclaimed drug aficionado, and was on the hunt for the world’s greatest high. Neither were certain why he’d joined their brotherhood, but he was mostly harmless... save for when he spiked their punch.

All three waited for their teleportation to end, feeling themselves nearing the destination. Though it wasn’t where they’d originally been planning, they believed that it would bring them one step closer to achieving their goal. Sagan and Milch both landed on their feet easily, while Flock stumbled and ended up falling on his muzzle as the three landed in what appeared to be a rather dark room. “Where do you think we have ended up?” Sagan asked, glancing around the room, squinting to try and make out something.

Flock grunted as he picked up his face, licking his lips. “The floor tastes like it was waxed recently.”

His companions both gave him extremely confused glances. “Dare I ask how you know what floor wax tastes like?” Milch asked.

“Dude, there’s some crazy drugs out there,” Flock giggled dumbly, while his companions once again schooled themselves as to not give him a whack on the head. Before the trio had any more time to think through their situation, flooding the darkness with bright neon colors a monitor flicked on, revealing a garish looking logo on the screen.

“[i]Welcome to Goons-4-Less, we’re glad to welcome you three to our forces! We’re always looking for handsome and rugged individuals such as yourselves in our ever expanding enterprise![/i]” The voice was bright, annoying, and sounded like it belonged to a greasy salesman.

Sagan and Milch exchanged concerned expressions before turning back to the monitor. “I think there’s been a mistake,” Sagan said, giving a slightly nervous chuckle as he stepped towards the monitor. “None of us signed on for Goons-4-Less, I’m so sorry for the inconvenience. If you don’t mind, we’ll be leaving as we have a greater purpose in life.”

Flock blinked a few times, his eyes sharpening in the light of the monitor. “Bros, when did you strip off your clothes?” The other two glanced down and their eyes widened as they realized all of their monastic gear had indeed been stripped off, leaving all three very nude.

Apparently the voice could indeed hear them as it responded to Sagan’s words. “[i]Don't worry a little bit, my fine scaled friends! We here at Goons-4-Less are a proud lot of go getters with a variety of purposes in life! With muscled bodies like yours, you will make for great Goons with a fantastic purpose! After all, what better purpose is there then going out and earning money for our company by selling your ethics and morality to the highest bidder?[/i]” The voice’s question did not contain an iota of irony, and that made Sagan and Milch even more anxious, but Flock on the other hand looked somewhat interested.

“What’s the pay like, monitor bra?” the Snivelakian asked, giving a confused look when both of his companions glared at him.

“Alright, I’ve had enough of this,” Sagan said, pointing at the monitor, “let us go now, or else we will tell our leader about this strange scheme of yours. We have no interest in joining Goons-4-Less, now release us, or we will be writing an extremely sternly written letter to your upper management.” He folded his arms, smiling in a rather self-satisfied way.

“[i]It seems like you have made up your mind[/i],” the monitor said, almost sounding dejected. “[i]Very well, then we will rectify this entire situation.[/i]”

Sagan smiled as the sound of something whirring in the room could be heard. “That’s more like it, thank you for your understanding. I’m so sorry for this entire mess.”

“[b]Engaging Goonitron,[/b]” a mechanical voice spoke in the room.

“Gooni-what?” Flock asked, and that’s when the room started to light up as the disco ball hanging from the ceiling started to flash and blair an obnoxiously loud tune.

Slapping his hands to the sides of his head, Milch looked up at the disco ball, squinting against the bright flashing lights. “What is this?!” he shouted, his voice barely audible over the loud music. He recognized the song as some very old retro music, one often associated with drugs and sex.

“Look away from the light!” Sagan shouted back, averting his eyes from the device. “I think it’s some sort of mental reconditioning tool!”

“Dudes, these lights are awesome!” Flock shouted in response, looking up at the disco ball, his eyes wide as he grinned like a fool. “I wonder if these guys have some awesome drugs?!”

Sagan and Milch both covered their ears as best as they could, closing their eyes, though even with that the room was flooded with color and noise. The device blared out the music, filling the room with sexual undertones, a sense of excitement. Flock on the other hand was too stupid to recognize what was really happening, his eyes glossing over as the lights and the music flooded his already drugged up brain, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he started to feel extremely warm. “Whooooa...” he groaned, his thoughts being rattled and shook up... and a new thought started to fill his head. [i]It would be hot to fuck and then go shoot some dudes.[/i]

Flock had always been a drug head, but he’d never really been one for violence... but the idea suddenly sounded pretty hot. He slowly climbed to his feet, starting to sway to the music, his tail bopping in time with the pulsing song. The Snivelakian’s cock starting to slip out from the slit in between his legs, his eyes flooding with the hypnotic colors of the disco ball overhead. His already meager thoughts were being bashed into line with Goons-4-Hire’s philosophy, why have morals when he could have money? More than that, he found himself growing increasingly horny by the moment, the thought of fucking his fellow goons, fuck, he could goon everywhere!

His companions had both taken up mantras, trying to drown out the sound of the Goonitron with their own words, their eyes tightly closed, minds focused on positivity and peace. Milch was unfortunately closer to Flock as he felt another body press up against his own, the scales feeling so warm. “Why’re you blocking out the good music?” Flock shouted, pulling Milch’s hand away from his head.

“Flock, what are you doing?!” Milch yelled, trying to wrench his hand back, but was surprised by his fellow Snivelakian’s strength.

“Dude, open your eyes, can’t you see we could make some serious dough?” Flock asked, rubbing up against Milch’s rear, his cock pressing up against the other monk’s firm ass. Milch could feel the music slamming into his head already, filling it with an overwhelming sense of dullness, a need to conform and obey.

“We’re monks for peace, not mere goons!” Milch growled, trying to keep his eyes closed as tight as possible, but already he felt himself growing... weirdly excited.

Flock ran his tongue up the monk’s cheek, his eyes glittering and pulsing. “But gooning is the best, man! We could fuck and fight all we want! All ya gotta do is open your eyes!” Flock let go of Milch’s hand and pried open his eyes, wrenching his head up to look at the disco ball.

“No!” Milch tried to close his eyes... but found that he didn’t quite want to, the disco ball was very pretty, and it sounded... amazing! His mouth started to droop open as he stared up at the glittering disco ball, his body suddenly filled with warmth. Unbeknownst to the three, the room was generating new clothing on their body, of course leaving room for them to have their fun. Golden leg bands on all of their legs, a new strap across Milch’s chest that hugged his muscles, a new tank tup that hugged Sagan’s own body. “Gotta... gotta close my....” Milch mumbled, but his head was being filled with so much noise, and it was so much easier to listen to the noise than shut it out.

Thoughts filled his head, bombarded the intelligent parts of his brain, practically making his brain physically shrink as new ideas were implanted. Horny ideas, violent ideas, all of his morals being plucked out in exchange for thoughts of money, sex, and guns. Milch’s hips started to sway as he felt the warmth flooding through him, rushing to his cock, his eyes starting to sparkle and pulsate like Flock’s. “Whoa... you’re like... fuckin’ right, man,” he moaned, feeling his cock harden for the first time in ages, his hands reaching up to run over his nipples. “Damn! Why didn’t I think of this sooner? Being a monk is haaaard,” he groaned, his intelligence being sapped by the power of music. “Yo, why is Sagan being such a killjoy?” he moaned.

“Dunno, let’s fix him! Goons gotta stick together!” Flock said, and Milch agreed wholeheartedly. Between the two of them, they were easily able to pin Sagan’s arms down and hold his eyes wide open. He continued to chant his mantras for a while, struggling to fight, trying to drown it out. But the Goonitron was very good at its job, and slowly the mantras died away, Sagan’s brain started to rot under the delicious music and beautiful lights.

Sagan growled in the back of his throat as he started to stroke himself, feeling increasingly horny, his good morals and thoughts of chastity being chased away by the promise of money, sex, and violence. After all, Snivelakians were practically built for violence, with their big bodies, large cocks, and intense hunger for money! He grabbed onto Flock’s hips, starting to hump into his friend’s ass, his eyes pointed up at the disco ball as if to devour every inch of its light. Flock was quick to jump onto Milch’s cock, guzzling it down hungrily, the trio engaging in an orgy of gooning.

In a matter of less than half an hour, the trio of monks were turned into horny violent goons, all three of them creaming several times, fucking each other, hungrily feeling each other up. Sagan didn’t even remember when he’d gotten the piercings, but they felt right, monks were too stuck up. He wiped his mouth clean as the disco ball slid back up into the roof, the lights turning on as Flock pulled his muzzle out from between Milch’s asscheeks. “Bro, done already?” Sagan asked, shivering as he felt Milch’s tongue under his balls.

“[i]You three Goons are on the clock, you can finish up after you’ve finished your first job![/i]” the voice said cheerfully, and all three of them jumped to attention, their eyes glittering once more. “[i]Grab your guns, and get going. You have work to do, and then you can goon all you want.[/i]

“Yes sir!” the three said, falling in line as they ran out the open door, none of them feeling a moment of hesitation. Monks were pussies, they were Goons, and they would do anything for money, sex, and having a fun gun fight!