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Psionic Investigations Unit

Prologue

For DuskCypher

By Draconicon

A thump from below woke the bull from his 'sleep,' and he grunted softly as he felt the world come back into focus. The world, in this case, being a steel seat and wall at his back, as well as restraints mounted to said wall and the legs of the chair. He opened one eye, staring straight ahead just like all the other males that had been captured and stuffed in the back of the moving vehicle.

Captured. Drugged. Yes, definitely drugged...

He could feel the sleepy-time ooze running through his veins, just enough of it to keep the average person from fighting back and ensuring that they would be compliant to the directions of whoever wanted to order them around. The bull would have rolled his neck to one side and then the other, cracking it and releasing some tension, but...

Well, drugs were drugs. Even if you were somewhat prepared for them, they still had at least a mild effect.

Better than the rest of the victims, though, he thought, looking at the various other men out of the corners of his eyes. They were mostly made up of the bigger, bulkier species. Orcas, bulls, horses, that sort of thing. There were a few stronger than average humans there, too, and, of course, one orc.

The dark-skinned tusker was right across the van from him, pinned down in the same way that he was: arms up and at the side of his head, wrists against the back of the van, legs spread ever so slightly by the restraints at the ankle-level of their chair. He was pushed forward by something at the small of the back, forced to show off his crotch in the same way that the bull and everyone else was.

The orc gave him a blink, then a wink. The bull didn't return it. After all, no point in revealing anything that they didn't have to, and if their kidnapper didn't have some kind of camera in the back of the van, he'd be surprised.

Another bump. Either they were going down a road that was pot-hole hell, or -

No, that was more of a parking garage bump. They were probably entering a parking lot or warehouse or something like that. Somewhere that they would either be unloaded or transferred to some other vehicle. It would fit the MO of the people that they had been tracking for a while.

The orc flexed his fingers, and this time the bull had to do something. A little flick of his eyes. Back and forth.

No.

They had to maintain the illusion that they were as helpless as the rest of the men in the van, or this was all for naught. The orc grumbled, and then subsided, going still just like the rest of them. The bull let out a slightly deeper sigh of relief, and then went back to just focusing on the rumbling of the van beneath them. They really did pull the shit jobs, the pair of them, but it shouldn't last much longer.

#

It was a hot summer day when they stepped in the boss's office. Agent K and Agent J. Big bull, big orc, bruisers for the PIU and the sort of guys that most people with half a brain didn't mess with. They were also the ones that had to be the most lusted after pair in the building, when it came to group appeal, though that wasn't something that most of the employees of the unit talked about. At least, not when they were around. Page three of the office newsletter did show them as strong candidates of winning the Sexiest Agent contest for the month, though.

Agent K sat down across from the commissioner, while Agent J stood up, pacing back and forth. The orc had a bad habit of staying in motion all the time; it made most people uncomfortable, feeling like he wasn't taking things seriously, wasn't listening. He was, though. Always. K had trained him well enough for that. He just acted like an asshole to wind people up from time to time.

The commissioner was having none of it.

"Sit down!" the rabbit shouted.

"Hey, hey, I think better on my feet."

"Well, you're not here to think. Sit down."

"I'm just -"

"Sit down, J," K said, shaking his head. "It's a job."

The orc grumbled, finally sitting down as he was told. The pair of them sat in completely different ways. K was relaxed, if a little bit formal in his posture, while J just flopped out in his chair, almost like a kid that didn't want to attend a lesson. Then again, the orc probably would have been out on the streets busting heads again if he could get the pay that he got from the agency to do it.

K waited until J was done sliding around in his chair before turning back to the long-eared commissioner.

"Sorry. He's still got some rough edges."

"He's got sharp edges. I swear, one of these days..."

"You had a job?" K prompted.

"Yeah. Trafficking and Senticide."

The agents sat up a little bit more attentively at that. Trafficking was something that any of the units might be assigned to, but Senticide? That was exclusively their stuff. And dangerous stuff it was.

"Where?" J asked, almost too eagerly.

"Entertainment district," Commissioner Kennedy said, nodding to a map over his shoulder. "Twenty missing-persons reports came in almost simultaneously last week, so they're working in batches."

"Surprised that the regular cops don't notice that," J muttered.

"Half of them were cops."

K winced. That meant that whoever was behind this was doing this smart. Getting rid of those that would come after him first, and then going for the more conventional targets. Intelligent Psions were always the biggest problems.

"We're putting you in the snatch-zone," Commissioner Kennedy said. "Prepped with the best stuff we can give you, but you know how preventatives are."

"Half-shit, half-high," J muttered.

"Crude, but accurate." The rabbit shook his head. "But we need someone to get inside so we can take them down. Shouldn't be more than a Class 3, though."

K nodded. He was certified for something up to a Class 4, with Class 7 being the highest that it would go. That would also be something of a world-ender, though, so nobody was certified for anything like that. Nobody. Not even Agent D.

But still, not something to sneeze at. Psionics fucked with reality to a serious extent, and were pretty crazy to boot. You found someone that got past Class 3, and you were dealing with someone that had looked into the abyss and tossed a good chunk of their sanity over the edge in the process. You couldn't expect them to be rational. Not in the least.

And they were going to be bait for this operation. Well, wasn't the first time.

"Club?" K asked.

"Yep."

"What kind?"

"You're not going to like it."

"That means I will," J said, chuckling.

"Probably."

#

The vehicle came to a sudden stop, and K grunted again. The same sound came from all the other males that were in the back of the truck, which wasn't too surprising. They were jolted pretty hard.

He must have been a little too deep in memory, because the back of the vehicle was rather dark now. Either more time had passed than he thought, or they'd gone from outside to inside. He'd imagine the latter.

The back of the van opened, and flashlights lit them up. He fought the urge to blink and managed it. The rest of the males that had been grabbed from the club just stared stupidly back at the lights, barely aware of what was going on.

"Alright, let's get them outta there. The boss wants to see the merchandise."

The voice was high, tinny. Probably some sort of rodent or shrew, he imagined. Workers stepped inside, most of them wearing leather of some sort. Considering that they had been snatched from a leather club, that didn't really surprise him. Seemed that the 'boss' had a thing for the sort of guys that were already into kinky shit.

The workers moved like drones, working down the line of restrained men and undoing the snaps and bolts that kept them down. One by one, the various 'normals' were pulled out, guided to the edge of the vehicle and made to step out onto the ground. K studied them out of the corner of his eye, making sure to imitate what they were doing when the thugs came to him. No quick movements. Zombie-shuffling, making sure to only move when he was pulled or pushed, nothing to show that he still had any of his own thoughts.

J was right behind him, and they were pushed towards the end of the line of 'merchandise.' It was hard to not stand out, considering that the pair of them were, well, very stand-out men. Not just taller, but thicker in the shoulders, more muscular, and...

Well, even for the leather club that they'd been in, they were dressed more provocatively. He wore a leather harness around his chest, something that came together in an o-ring in the center of his chest, with his bottom half covered in little more than a pair of tight leather pants that pulled even tighter in the crotch, with a zipper that went from just over his dick to just under his tail.

J was even worse, wearing nothing more than a tight leather speedo and cock-pouch in the front, with the back barely able to contain half of his ass cheeks, sliding between them more and more as the night went on like a thong. It was like watching some sort of porno seeing him walk around in that. And he seemed to love it, what was more.

Course, the other guys weren't exactly dressed 'normally,' but most of them had restricted their leather fetish-wear to collars or tight pants, not something that made them look like they were trawling the streets for some action. K would have to have some serious words with the Commissioner about this, all things considered. It was not dignified to have a PIU agent shown off like this, particularly when they had some sort of image to keep up.

Well, kind of. Somewhat. Most of the agents were more than willing to throw that to the wayside, what with the various insane things that the Psionics they were up against would put to use on them.

Don't do something stupid, J. You remember what happened last time, K thought, focusing on staying still and breathing slowly, just like all the others.

They were kept waiting for a while. They were in a parking garage, just like he'd thought, and it was very dark. The lights were out, and the only thing that kept them from being blinded in the dark were the flashlights that the goons were carrying. One, two, three, four, five different vans and cars were around them, forming a steel barrier that would make it impossible for him or J to leap over them and get out of the way before they were taken down. Probably between fifteen and twenty goons too, all told.

Not an easy situation, and no sign of the boss just yet.

They were waiting for nearly twenty minutes before a limo pulled up, and the fact that the goons didn't even react told him that this was the person that they were waiting for. The limo slowed as it came to the only open spot in the ring of cars, pulling in and parallel parking in the narrow gap. As it came to a halt, K had to fight to keep himself from stiffening up. J did the same, both of them surreptitiously tensing up as they felt the familiar...well, it felt like reality cringing, pulling away from something, was the only way that he could explain it.

No surprise there, either. Psions made reality cry.

#

The feeling of reality trying to peel back from someone was always difficult to deal with. It felt like you were watching some sort of horrifying vivisection of existence, and it didn't feel right to the body or the mind to be present for it. K had gotten used to it to some extent, though he never liked to 'indulge' that the way that some of the younger agents did. J, on the other hand...

"What the hell is wrong with that guy?" the orc asked, nodding through the window at the mouse on the other side. "He's...weird."

"He's a Class 2, still sane enough to have some thoughts of morality. Not nearly sane enough to hold back."

"Yeah, but...hell, he can't do anything to us."

"That's because we're Nullifiers," K said, shaking his head and resisting the urge to facepalm. "We're unaffected by a certain amount of this."

"Fucking hell, we are...I can feel him doing something."

"I did say 'a certain amount.'"

The mouse in question was, after all, doing something. Not intentionally, either, from the look on his face. His nervous twitching was peeling apart the very fabric of the table he sat by, pulling it off layer by molecular layer. A very dangerous ability, to rip apart things on that level, but thankfully, a Class 2 didn't have that much power and range. If he'd gotten much stronger, he would have been far more dangerous, and someone that would have needed to be shot on sight.

K sighed.

"I hate this job, sometimes," he muttered.

"Yeah, well, at least we're not going to be bothered by this guy anymore," J said. "Hell, I think we could do a better job if they just let us hunt them down."

"You'd get killed in three days."

"Hey, we're both Nullifiers. We can take it."

"Up to a certain point. And only if we know what we're dealing with."

Psions had started coming out of the woodwork in the last decade, either new ones, or old ones that were waking up. Either way, they were serious threats to the safety of the public, and not something that anyone wanted to deal with if they valued their skin. They could be anything from simple telepaths to telekinetics. There were pyrokinetics, resurrectors, and...well, if there was a way to snap the natural laws of reality, a Psion existed that could do it. The only real hope against that sort of thing was either overwhelming force, or a Nullifier, and as most cities didn't want to deal with sacrificing an entire police department to take down one Psion, Nullifiers were the usual choice of action.

K had dealt with a half-dozen Psions himself, losing one partner in the process, and now...well, J had to learn. He walked the pair of them up to the mirrored window.

"What are you doing?" J asked.

"Just watch."

As soon as they touched the window, that feeling of 'unreality' struck, and the pair of them gasped together. K let out more of a grunt, while J's was a real gasp as the stripping sensation hit their clothes rather than just the room. Layer by layer, it was shredded away, until they were down to nothing. Oh, their backs were still covered, but their suits, fancy and armor-threaded, were gone in the space of half a minute. They were naked in front, their cocks pressed hard against the window.

J squirmed, and K let him go. The orc looked down at himself, then back at the bull.

"What the fuck..."

"You're immune. Your clothes aren't. Your weapon isn't. Only you. And your partner isn't always going to be immune to everything, either." K shook his head. "This is serious business. You need to be on your toes at all times, or you're going to get yourself, or someone else, killed."

"..."

J stomped out of the room, his clothes falling off as he did. K watched him go, and couldn't quite deny the hard-on that he had seen that dark-skinned ass. Shaking his head, he turned back to the mouse, and his shaft throbbed slightly at the idea of being stripped like this out in the field.

K gritted his teeth and shook his head. He needed to be better about this. Everyone had a flaw, and this one was his. Lust, need, risk. Always risk.

#

That same feeling of unreality that had come from the mouse was pouring off that car. Class 3, for sure, possibly even a low-strength Class 4, which made this whole mission that much more dangerous. They would need to be on their toes for this one.

The limo doors opened, five more goons hopping out, and one went to the passenger door in the back. K kept his 'relaxed' posture going, trying to stay observant at the same time as the new guy came out.

The Psion turned out to be a raccoon, and a big one at that, standing nearly six feet tall and with broad shoulders and thick pecs. He had a groomed sort of face-fur, something that was slicked back at the chin and head, and fluffed out at the sides. Stained gray, too, which implied that he was older, but that might have been an effect of the staring into the abyss thing that the Psions all did. He wore a suit, too, something that looked vaguely business-y, and -

Yes, there was an erection. He should have guessed; this man looked the sort to sample his own product.

The raccoon walked up to their line, looking them up and down. He would smile at some of them, gesture and whisper something to his thugs, and the male in question would either be tossed back in the van, or taken over to one of the other cars. He was speaking in some other language, Russian perhaps, with that cadence, but the meaning was clear. Some were being sold in bulk, and some were being given to specific buyers.

In the rare care that one of the males looked up with any sort of understanding in his eyes, the raccoon reached out and pressed his hand to their head. Four fingers around the back, thumb to the forehead, the raccoon's eyes would glow, and the male would gasp, falling to his knees, seed spreading through his pants. He'd be left with nothing but a drooling mouth, empty eyes, and a throbbing dick that refused to stop pumping and pulsing in his pants.

Senticide, alright. They were seeing the death of minds here. Fun death, but still death.

The raccoon finally came to them, and for the first time, he had to look up rather than down. He cocked his head to the side, chuckling as he ran his fingers across their chests.

"Mmmm..."

No words, just a happy-sounding examination noise. The raccoon looked to the thugs, nodding at them. He said something that had the same sort of sound as a boss saying 'good work,' and then he turned back to them.

"Can you understand me?" the raccoon asked in surprisingly understandable English.

K didn't fall for it. He kept staring straight ahead, not showing any sort of understanding in his eyes at all. J was smart enough to do the same, neither of them giving away that they were aware enough of the world to be surprised.

"Heh, good, good."

The raccoon reached down, one hand on each of them. It was harder to stay still when he was getting touched, groped, fondled like this, particularly with those slender digits sliding right into his pants and getting a good grip on his balls. J wasn't even doing that well, letting out grunts and groans as his cock was fondled, even -

Riiiiip.

Their bottoms were pulled open in the crotch, the leather ripped clear. K didn't quite blush, but the urge was there, and it was harder than ever to stare straight ahead, to feel that touch of pleasure and not react. He couldn't even grit his teeth to keep the sounds down. All he could do was hold still and let himself be molested.

"Strong..."

The raccoon's word was a compliment and an observation. Slender fingers wrapped around his cock, pumping it slowly, and J was suffering the same sort of treatment. They were jerked, teased, pushed to get harder and harder where they stood, and it was getting more and more difficult to keep from making sounds.

Nnnngh...go figure...that this guy...is a pervert...

But there was something hot about it. Very hot. Even if they weren't supposed to be going along with this to see where his base was, to see what he knew, K knew he would have been tempted. The risk, the potential of further indulgence, was more of a tantalizing idea than anything that he had done solo.

Hold together...hold together...

Of course, with the rather expert touches of the raccoon, it didn't take long for both him and J to be sporting hard-ons, and less time after that to be oozing with pre-cum. He could feel something going on down there, something warm, something -

Something Psionic. This one dealt with heat, he realized, and the touches to the head had been a way of burning through the mind, collapsing different neural pathways and leaving it scorched, the mind burning away anything that wasn't useful for staying loyal to whoever the raccoon was going to sell them to. Now, he was using that same heat to keep their cocks hot and horny for what was going to happen.

"I will examine you...personally...Strip."

The raccoon's order was something that they did have to follow, and K and J did as they were told, pulling off what was left of their outfits and standing naked before the raccoon. The feeling of embarrassment and arousal didn't die off. If anything, it got that much stronger as they were fully exposed.

The raccoon leaned in, looking them in the eyes. He kept his gaze as dull as possible, even as he allowed himself the soft pants that the other entranced men had had during their milder exams.

"I am Nikolai Ivanov, and I like men like you..."

No response, no response.

"It may be worth keeping the pair of you to myself..."

No response, no response.

"Heh...perhaps the drugs are better than usual..."

They were definitely strong drugs, that was for sure. They'd come through hard and quick at the club, and they were only now starting to wear off. The only reason that he could think clearly through the remaining haze was because of all the countermeasures that they had taken at headquarters before going out to be caught.

But he knew that he had to fake this for a bit longer. Go through a little more humiliation, a little more fondling. Then he could fight back. Once the guns weren't pointed at them, once the boss's guard was down. Just a little more.

"Kneel."

He and J went down, imitating the clumsiness of the others. They were guided to all fours, and then pushed their asses up. One hand on each of them, and they were able to share a glance out of the corners of their eyes as they realized what sort of position they were in. Nothing good, but they could take something like this. Or at least, K could.

And it looked like K would have to, considering that Nikolai leaned over him, first. Those narrow, dainty fingers reached down and around, flicking against his nipples as a hard cock rested between his ass cheeks. Not particularly long, but definitely thick, ready to spread him wide.

Soon...soon...

"You like this, do you?"

"..."

"You like it..."

The heat that had been filling his cock shocked his nipples at that moment, leaving him groaning. He arched his back that little bit more -

"Yes. I knew it."

...Fuck.

Just as Nikolai started to shift his grip, J kicked himself up and over into a spinning roundhouse kick. The orc's heel cracked against the raccoon's shoulder, sending him flipping backwards across the parking lot. K himself rolled forward, leaping into a headbutt into the nearest of the thugs.

"Alright. Plan B," K said.

"Just had to fucking moan, didn't you?" J asked.

"Let's share culpability on this and just get the job done."

He spun the gunman around, letting him take the blast of bullets that rained down on him, stealing the hound's rifle in the process. He threw the shredded body at the nearest gunman as soon as he stopped shooting, knocking him down. The bull ran for it, grabbing the dropped weapon at the same time and leaping over the hood of a car.

J was already there, carrying two rifles of his own. They were armed, at least, which was better than they had been a moment ago.

"So, what's the plan?" J asked.

"Keep shooting until they're dead. And keep Nikolai from leaving."

The revving of a car engine confirmed that the raccoon had already reached his limo. K shook his head.

"Take out the tires. I'll cover you."

"Got it."

The orc kept low, and the bull stayed high. The bullets sprayed like a deadly fountain, peppering cars and shattering windows. The other thugs ran for cover, and he kept his shots low, taking out their legs and sweeping them back.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could just make out J bracing himself against another car, keeping his aim low. He pulled the trigger, one, two, three, four times -

SCREEEE!

And the limo spun out, hitting the wall. No escape for Mr. Ivanov today.

Of course, there was one other little problem. As the raccoon pulled himself from the vehicle, he held out his hand, pointing his fingers at the pair of them. J just grinned, while K hissed under his breath, throwing his rifle away and running for the orc.

"Get down!"

"Heh, I can take it."

"You fucking -"

The raccoon 'pulled the trigger' with his middle finger, and a fireball bullet shot from his finger. K managed to get between it and J at the last second, and even then, it slammed into his chest hard enough to leave a fist-sized burn across his left pec. He groaned, holding one hand to the mark.

"Mmmph...fuck..."

He pulled the orc down, the next bullet melting a hole on the other side of the car. J shook his head.

"What the hell was that? I could have taken it."

"Look at this." He gestured at the burn. "That's at least Class 4 power there. You're barely certified to Class 3; that would have gone right through you."

"But...I'm a Nullifier."

"Up. To. A. Point."

That was the part that he had been trying to drill into J's head for the entire duration of their partnership. Their Nullifying traits allowed them to go toe to toe with the Psions, but only up to a certain point. If you weren't up to that level, then you were still going to take damage, and if you were beneath them, you might as well not be a Nullifier to begin with.

He looked over the car, watching as the raccoon kept marching towards them. The other thugs were gradually moving around the protective line, and he cursed under his breath.

"This is becoming a problem."

"Yeah...well...least we got a whole garage to play with," J muttered.

"I wasn't planning on playing hide-and-seek, but - hold on."

He grabbed J's rifle, pointing it to the right and picking off someone stupid enough to poke their head into view. The rat fell immediately.

"Split up. And don't let him shoot you."

"I'll try."

#

They kept the criminals chasing them for a good half-hour before Kennedy and the rest of the unit showed up. Once reinforcements arrived, Ivanov tried to run, only to find himself unable to get out of the isolated parking garage. Didn't help that the raccoon had melted all the cars to pretty much nothing in the process of hunting down Agents K and J.

In the end, it was a rather satisfied bull that managed to take the raccoon down, body-slamming him into the concrete and holding him there. The fact that he was naked and showing off a boner to the entirety of the rest of the unit didn't make him happy, but then again, it probably helped his chances for the Sexiest Agent in the unit award. If he cared about that, that was.

Dragging the unconscious Mr. Ivanov to his feet and pulling him towards the containment truck, he was met by the Commissioner with a bathrobe in the rabbit's hand. Tossing the raccoon into the truck, he happily took the robe and covered up. J did the same as he arrived.

"Well, that was fun," J muttered.

"We did the job," K agreed. "So, Commissioner. Were there any, ahem, survivors among the victims?"

"Half."

The fact that half of the males were still themselves was...a better than average score for the PIU. Most of the time, a Class 3 or Class 4 would be sufficient to leave barely any sentient survivors, let alone any sane ones. The fact that they had this many still with them was something of an accomplishment.

"And the others?" J asked. "Seriously, we're not abandoning them, are we?"

"No," K said. "They'll be sent to Saint Lucia's."

"And what's that?"

The Commissioner and K shared a look. Every so often, they had a reminder that J was new, that he didn't know most of the stuff that happened. Even the bureaucrat that Kennedy was knew more than J did. The rabbit sighed, rubbing his head.

"It's a medical hospital that's staffed by our people. We send victims there for reasons of secrecy and specialized treatment."

"Yeah? I thought that you didn't come back from Senticide."

"You don't. Not unless you go there," Kennedy said.

"So, you can fix it?"

"Yes, of course."

"About 5% of the time," K corrected.

That was the downside to dealing with Psions. If they got through the Nullifiers, if they actually used their powers with full effect on someone, it was nearly impossible to rebuild the person that used to be there. Sometimes, they could put someone else in the same shell, and sometimes, they could reassemble the pieces into something that bore a passing familiarity to the old person, but when it came to actually recovering the old person properly? Even Saint Lucia's staff were rather helpless.

But that was the job, and someone had to do it.

The End

Summary: The Psionic Investigations Unit is on the case. A series of missing persons has been traced to a club, and two agents have been put out as bait.

Tags: M/M, Raccoon, Bull, Orc, Psionics, Messing with Reality, Nudity, Masturbation, Impending Anal, Public, Exposure, Drugged, Bondage, Series, Prologue, Erection, Arousal,