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Motel Mind-rinse

By Limewah

Commission for DréKozar

18+

CW: One instance of homophobic language

There was still a fair bit of daylight left when Dré first started to feel the familiar ache of exhaustion. There hadn't been much wind for the grey, spiny dragon to coast on today, so his wings had to do a lot of extra work. He was starting to feel the weight of the rucksack, which was slung 'backwards' so it hugged the front of his torso and kept his wingspan free for flight. He didn't grouse over it. He simply knew it was time to find a place to land and crash (in that order) for the night.

This was his preferred method of travel. It wasn't that it was a less fussy option; he had to travel light or ship stuff ahead of him, which was a pain in the ass. But there was something wonderfully mindful and soothing about gliding one's way through the countryside, particularly once you got out of the built up areas and were out in the middle of nowhere. Fields of gold and green spread beneath him, and there was only the odd house or farm pock-marked along the landscape. If not for the asphalt roads for the poor terrestrial saps stuck in their cars, this land would seem to be completely untouched by civilization.

When Dré was in flight, he could really allow himself to switch his mind off. His gaze was soft, not focusing on any one thing and simply taking in the landscape. His mind could wander idly, sorting through whatever detritus his normal life had left in his head. The journey to and from his vacation destination was often just as relaxing as the proper vacation itself. There was no better way to travel in his humble opinion.

Dré had a system for dealing with fatigue. He would stop at every rest stop to stretch, rest and fuel up. It generally worked out to an hour or two of flight before a half-hours rest. By the late afternoon he would be approaching his limit for the day. He was never too far from a motel by then, and could spend the rest of the evening chilling out and zoning out. He tended to sleep a lot while travelling. And sleep sounded like a wonderful prospect at that moment.

He could see a motel about a mile ahead, neighbouring a mechanic's workshop and a gas station with a small store. All of the buildings looked old. Not dilapidated, but certainly not pristine. The motel's roof and signage were a pale rosy pink - they probably used to be a deeper shade of red before decades of sun bleached it to its current hue. It didn't even seem to have a name; all he could make out was 'MOTEL' in bold letters. Clearly they weren't exactly looking to attract tourists. Judging by the empty parking lot and the lack of lit rooms visible from the road, he was pretty sure the place had a lot of vacancies

He allowed himself to dip lower, giving a little bit of lee-way to gravity as he brought his legs down and forward. He flapped faster as he righted himself, pushing back and helping him come to a nice gentle stop. Novice fliers might end up skidding and tumbling all over themselves. But Dré had been doing this sort of cross-country flying for a long time, and could do it in his sleep.

He shrugged off his rucksack and slung it around over his back with a relieved sigh. He resisted the urge to lean on the wall around the parking lot, or one of the poles holding up the walkway on the second floor. He could rest once he'd got his room.

The reception building was less of a lobby and more of a shack, with only just enough room inside to stand in front of the desk. The light was on, and he could see movement inside, so he entered. An old bell tinkled above his head as he dipped in low to get through the door. It wasn't designed for people of his size or span, and he had to shrug off his backpack again just to get through.

As he did so, Dré could see the squat little armadillo behind the counter hastily stuffing something out of sight and buttoning up a white shirt that clearly hadn't been ironed in days. His eyes were wide.

"S-sorry there, sir!" he said. He sounded young, with a slight cracking panic in his voice. "I didn't even notice you driving in!"

"It's okay," Dré said, with a reassuring grin(one that was careful not to show too many teeth). "I flew in!"

"You flew... oh right, of course!" the armadillo stared at Dré's massive wing span. Stares like this weren't uncommon, especially out in the middle of nowhere. Dré didn't mind all that much. What he did mind was...

"It's like that joke, huh?" The armadillo snorted a very awkward laugh. "I just flew in and boy-"

"-Are my arms tired," Dré joined in with a practised, placating smile. That was what he did mind hearing. Though this little guy seemed to be doing it less out of malice and more out of awkwardness. He was looking up at him with nothing short of awe. The dragon half-wondered if he was going to ask for a photo with him or something.

"S-so, you want a room right?" The armadillo said quickly. "I can g-get that set up for y'all right away, it's just you right?"

"Yeah." Dré smiled. "I'm not that strong, heh."

"You look really strong, yeah," the armadillo said. He sounded like he was having a little trouble breathing. He was staring at him rather funnily too. Dré looked back down at him, confused and a little worried.

"Are you ok?" Dré asked. "Long day?"

"Huh?" the armadillo's voice was raising in pitch with each new sentence. He was sounding younger by the second. "Oh, yeah, uh, nothing much, nothing, uh. How about you? What's going on with you, what do you like to, uh, do for fun?"

"Uh..." Dré laughed. "Well, I'm heading to the sea for a few days away. Get a nice sea breeze and all that. It's heaven for a cold-blooded guy like me!"

"Oh, and do you have, like, swim gear n' all that?" the receptionist's gaze was lingering on Dré's torso. He glanced down to check if he had something on his jacket; he couldn't see any stains.

"Yeah, just some swim trunks. Basic stuff."

The armadillo was still staring. There was a moment of silence. Dré cleared his throat.

"So, uh, could I get a room?"

"Yes, we could - I mean," the armadillo choked, "I mean, yes, sorry Sir! Just a moment, Sir!"

He shuffled quickly to the cork board at the back wall of the booth. Almost every nail on the cork board had a key with a fob hanging off it.

"Quiet night, I guess?" Dré asked.

"H-Huh?" he wheeled around, clutching a key between his clawed hands. "Uh, y-yeah, quiet, heh, though there might be more people coming, it's early evening..."

"That makes sense," Dré said, his eyes curiously roving along the old faded posters on the walls. Lots of stuff from the 80s. Action movies, fantasy movies and the like. Most of the posters featured scantily clad, muscular men with bikini clad women clinging onto them.

The armadillo handed him the keys, rather hurriedly.

"You're in luck! The l-luxury suite is available, and w-we're having a deal! You get to have it for no extra charge."

"Oh hey, nice!" Dré's pearly white grin widened, and the armadillo baulked slightly. Everything the dragon did seemed to be making the poor armadillo on edge.

"What's the difference?" Dré asked." Does it have a bigger bed? I could use the space to stretch out..."

"Oh yeah, it's a big bed. You can stretch out, put your feet up!"

"Great, I plan on it. As long as there's room for 'em!"

"Room for them?" the armadillo asked, his voice strained and quiet. Maybe he was coming down with something. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"Oh, my paws are huge." Dré laughed, taking a little step back and gesturing to his massive boots. They were prodigiously large, even for someone of Dré's size and stature. The armadillo leaned over the desk and stared down at them.

"Th-that's what was kicking at the desk, heh..." he said. His eyes had gone wide and his whole body was stiff. He looked like he was resisting the urge to blink. Dré didn't really think anything of it.

"Yeah, wild right? They're a pain to deal with sometimes," Dré said. He left a few dollar bills on the counter to settle up for the evening. "Thanks again, man!"

"C-call me if you need anything!" the armadillo shouted after him, his voice cracking midway through.

That poor kid was super awkward. He was probably new, and he'd probably never seen a dragon before. Life out in the sticks must be quite mundane, Dré mused to himself. He left his stuff just inside the room before heading to the gas station to fuel up on some snacks. He didn't stick around too long, just grabbing some chips and soda while giving the 'hot deli' counter a wide berth. He needed to load up on carbs, but he wasn't about to risk food poisoning.

With all his spoils in hand, he returned to his room. It was on the ground floor, close to the reception booth. Dre gave the kid a little wave as he passed by it, even though he had his nose buried in a screen. If he didn't know any better, Dré might have thought he was avoiding eye contact with him entirely.

Was it something he said, he wondered?

He must have said something to make the young guy uncomfortable. He didn't beat himself over it; he could always leave him a few beers or something to make it up to him.

When Dré got inside, he picked up a subtle, stale aroma of smoke. Whoever had stayed here last must have been a heavy smoker, and the place hadn't been aired out perfectly. He played with the light switch to his right. It didn't seem to be working. Not the best first impression, really, but he was hardly going to be staying up late anyway. Besides, his vision was good enough that he could still make out the room's general layout. It was about what one would expect. The bed took up most of the room, with a couple of bed side tables and a television on the far wall (a big old CRT that'd been wedged into a hole in the wall by the looks of it) and the bathroom was all the way in the back. So far, so typical. The bed looked comfortable, and the sheets looked fresh too. That was all that mattered to him.

Dré kicked off his boots and flopped on the bed with a satisfied sigh before reaching down with a grunt to slip off his socks. He sank pleasingly into it. It was not the comfiest motel bed he'd ever slept in, but definitely in the top 5. He reached up to grasp the cord attached to the wooden ceiling fan, and gave it a tug. The cool air washed over him, dissipating the heat and the smoky scent. The dragon was too tired to take off his clothes. It wouldn't take too long for him to get to sleep. He considered setting an alarm on his phone so he could start bright and early again. He only had a day or so left of travel, and if he started early, he might-

The thought was interrupted by a sharp electric buzz, followed by a high pitched whine; the trademark sound of a CRT. A moment later, the soft hiss of static laid itself over the top of that sound. Dré's first instinct was to shuffle a bit in his bed and see if he could feel anything hard. Had he laid on the remote control, he wondered? He couldn't feel anything. He opened one eye and glanced to the sides. The remote was resting on the table next to him. He picked it up and sat up to look at the snowy flickers on the screen. Some people loved using old tv static to help them sleep, but not Dré. Far from it. He pressed the squishy-feeling off button. It didn't seem to be working. After a few presses he looked at the backside and tried to find the batteries. The remote was suspiciously light, and sure enough there were no batteries in the back.

"What the heck?" Dré groaned, sidling over to the edge of the bed to switch the thing off. As he did so, he couldn't help but look closer at the static screen. He swore he could see something in the static, perhaps a local station. Maybe the television wasn't tuned properly; one more thing he'd have to tell the motel staff about.

The image behind the static didn't have a shape that he could easily discern. Curiosity settled over him, and he leaned in closer for a better look, sitting on the edge of the bed.

The static was changing colour too, the blacks splitting into reds, blues, and greens and spreading apart into an expanse of colourful snow. The big screen's glow bathed the dragon's face as he stared closer still.

The static twisted and turned, swirling inwards like colourful liquid being poured down a drain. Blues, greens, and reds hovered at the edge of the black, curling spiral. It twisted slowly, drawing Dré's gaze towards the centre for a moment before his vision relaxed and he let the spiral wash over him in its entirety. His body felt tingly, like there was static inside his head too. Why was that? Was it something to do with the screen and the spiral? He felt like he had to keep looking to figure it out. It felt like the right thing to do. It made the most sense to him. He couldn't think of anything else to do. He couldn't think of anything he'd rather do. He slouched forward, his shoulders slumped and his jaw slack. As the spiral curled before him, his snout started tracing little circles in the air, following its lazy curvature. He felt very relaxed. Very pleasantly so.

There was another sound in the room, a soft binaural thrum that slipped into the dizzy dragon's head and massaged his brain like dough. He was already too far gone to notice it on a conscious level, but it didn't matter. Those sounds made the spiral prettier to look at. The sounds made the spiral do more lovely tingly things to his mind and his insides. He kept staring. He kept relaxing. Soon his snout was practically pointed towards the floor, his eyes still following the spiralling screen even as his head grew heavier and heavier.

Bold text flashed on the screen every so often. It was just long enough that Dré would have been able to notice it. If he was conscious, that is. He was already falling into a deep trance, though, too sluggish to notice whenever RELAX or SINK or OBEY appeared before him. His subconscious noticed though. It reminded him to relax, and sink, and obey the spiral. The flickering commands stamped themselves on every little synapse, leaving little room for much else. His mind was totally switched off before long, leaving him empty, brainwashed, and all the happier for it.

--

Clyde was already rubbing his rock-hard dick a he watched the dragon sink. There were three camera feeds set up - one overhead, one from a corner of the room close to the floor, and one just nestled at the top of the tv. His focus was primarily focused on the second and third screens, his gaze alternating between the dragon's grey, clawed feet, and his dazed, slack expression.

Fuck, he was so hot.

The 'luxury suite' was actually the secret test site of an old government programme, back in that era where they were obsessed with the possibilities of mind control. It was called Project Mind-Rinse. It all looked and sounded like something out of some cheesy old sci-fi movie, but it worked. It didn't seem to have lead to anything, at least, as far as he knew, and seemed completely abandoned when he first discovered it. Rather than sell his story to a tabloid or post about it online, or even tell his boss about it, he kept it to himself. First he'd used it with some friends of his for fun; staring into that spiral after taking a good bong hit was better than sex.

And, well... he sometimes ended up taking advantage of them, having them show off their feet to him and let him lick - just as a prank. Yeah. Not in a gay way

He'd fantasised about using this on some attractive stranger for a long time. He'd always imagined it being some hot girl with a smoking figure, though, like in his posters. He would touch himself while imagining having a buxom vixen under a spell, getting her to strip for him and let him lick her feet. But the moment that dragon walked in, his whole understanding of his fantasies and his desires was turned on his head completely. He wasn't a fag. He knew that. But... There was something about the dragon. His smile. His body. His eyes. He was so hot.

Rather than have an existential crisis, Clyde ran with the impulse. He'd wanted to use it for so long, and he hadn't had sex in so long. It was now or never. He still needed just a little bit more time to psyche himself up, though. He was feverishly stroking his shaft, focusing in on the slack-jawed, drooling guest and the way his paws shifted and repositioned while he leaned closer to the hypnotic display.

"Okay..." Clyde breathed. "Okay. Here we go..."

He flicked a little hidden switch far beneath the desk, and the Mind-Rinser went quiet again. Dré remained where he was, still staring into space. He barely seemed to have noticed anything had changed.

Clyde took a little microphone that was hidden near the switch, and tugged it towards his lips.

"Lie back on the bed," he murmured. Dré sat there for a moment, before nodding slowly and shifting backwards. Even in the grainy footage, Clyde could notice very clear arousal between his legs. Clyde had also gotten a boner when he got brainwashed too, so that wasn't entirely unexpected. He slithered out from behind the counter and left his booth, but not before hastily draping a sign over the doorway.

Sorry We Missed You, Be Back Soon.

Making sure no one was watching him, Clyde slipped in next door, and ducked into the brainwashing chamber.

Dré laid still on the bed, his paws splayed out over the edge. His eyes were open, and he was staring blankly at the ceiling, with the look of a docile herbivore. Clyde was drooling like a rabid dog. Those paws were bigger than his whole head... how much would he even be able to get into his mouth? That tantalising prospect made him shiver with excitement. There was no hesitation left in his mind now. It was now or never. The night was young. He might never get another opportunity like this.

"Can you hear me?" Clyde asked.

"Yes, Master,"Dré responded, his voice distant but absolutely clear.

"C-cool. Sit up again and raise your legs."

"Yes, Master." As he sat up slowly, as though lifted by a forklift, everything he did was the way Clyde imagined an empty-headed robot would act in one of those old movies. It was ridiculous. But that only made it even more appealing...

Clyde practically dove headfirst into Dré's left foot, pressing his snout right into the sole. It was softer than he was expecting, like a firm pillow. He sank into it, moaning and fondling at himself. Dré seemed to be completely dead to the world, barely reacting at all save for a little snort or gurgle here or there.

Clyde kept looking past the dragon's paws (he could hardly look over them!) to make sure that the dragon was not stirring. The only change was that he was starting to smile. The smile widened when the armadillo dug his fingers into the soles and traced little circles.

"Ticklish, huh," Clyde huffed. He kept tickling, pushing his claws a little bit more firmly into the sole and scratching into it. The dragon giggled and snorted with increasing frequency, particularly when Clyde scratched his claws along the scaly, yet soft arches. Strained grunts punctuated each of Dré's giggles, and his paws started to push back against Clyde's face.

That sensation almost made him cum on the spot.

He managed to resist the urge, keeping his hands well away from his crotch as he moved on to Dré's toes. One by one, he wrapped his lips around each toe. He could only manage one of them at a time. He could just manage to fit one toe at a time in his mouth, and he had to be careful about the sharp talons on the tips. But the sensation and texture was just so sublime. It was totally worth the risk. Clyde would be using the memory of this as masturbation fodder for years to come.

Dré's now-sopping-wet paws would have gleamed in the light, if there was any to speak of. The young attendant's hands were hastily and clumsily fondling at every inch of sole he could get them on.

As he worked the toes, Clyde noticed that the big bulge in Dré's pants was getting... well, bigger. A new hunger descended upon his mind. A hunger that couldn't wait to be satisfied.

"Hhh... take off yer pants," Clyde breathed. The dragon didn't hear him at first, so he repeated the command a little louder this time.

"Yes, Master," Dré finally responded. His movements were perfectly poised, robotic in fact. He shuffled his cargo pants off along with his underwear, letting his dick flop out into the open. It throbbed and pulsed before Clyde's greedy eyes. Clyde sniffed at the air, taking in the musk. It demolished any remaining nerves or trepidation he had until that point. He dove in between the dragon's legs, letting his thighs rest on his shoulders.

"Ok Clyde," he said, his lips just inches from the tip. "S'like jumping twenty feet into the creek. Just don't think, dive..."

He took a deep breath, opened wide, and shoved the dragon dick as far as he could into the back of his throat. He squeezed onto his thumb - his buddy Dean told him that was how you could keep yourself from gagging. As the meat poked the back wall of his throat, Clyde was pleased to discover that it wasn't bullshit. Almost as pleased as he was to learn that having a dick in his mouth felt incredible. It was snug, warm, and the way it pulsed was absolute perfection. He whined and moaned, long and desperate, getting only about halfway down before he started to get into a rhythm. He knelt down on the floor once he got used to the pace, taking his time to lather the dick with his tongue. But it felt a little off. The dragon was giving nothing back. It was like he was sucking off a sex toy.

He wanted more than just that.

He pulled back with a gasp, taking a second to catch his breath and wiping the drool off his lip.

"C-can you..." he groaned... "Can you gimme a footjob? D'you know how to do that?"

"Yes, Master." Dré said. He still stared into space blankly, smiling as he always had, but his feet moved with a dextrous precision that his hypnotist wasn't expecting. One foot slipped up under his shirt and pressed right into his torso, while the other one slid down to sandwich his dick-tip between two massive toes. It was practically a footjob for Clyde's whole body, the full weight of them pressing into him and weighing him down.

"H-Holy shit...!" Clyde gasped as his orgasm hit embarrassingly fast. Barely 10 seconds of touching was all it took to make him squirt his seed all over the guest's legs and feet. Dré didn't relent. He kept pressing his paws in and stroking the armadillo's body, and Clyde didn't even have the opportunity to get soft. He could go for another round...

Clyde had to strain a bit to get his lips around Dré's cock again, but once he did, he was in heaven. He slurped and gulped, trying to burn the taste into his taste buds so he would never forget it. He whined, trying to keep himself from cumming too quickly this time, but it was so hard not to. He squeezed the shaft tighter still in his mouth, feeling Dré's whole body tense and flop back onto the bed. He didn't stop though. He was too focused on the taste, and the touch, and every detail of this moment.

--

Dré was jostled awake. Well, not quite jostled, but he certainly woke up quickly. He took a moment to squirm and shuffle where he was. . Dré yawned widely and smacked his lips. He felt very comfortable. In fact, it felt like he had slept for days. He must have bunched up the covers at the edge of the bed - they were kneading into something soft and warm. Not to mention his crotch, his feet and his ankles felt warm and wet.

That jostled him once again, this time into a far more conscious state. He sat up quickly with a start, looking up to see if there was a leak in the ceiling. When he saw nothing, he looked down, straight into the eyes of that armadillo boy he'd met out front. He had Dré's dick in his mouth, and his eyes had gone wide with terror and humiliation. Dré stared down at him, his brow furrowed for a moment, before things started to click in his mind.

"Wait a minute..." Dré said. "Do you have a crush on me?"

"Mmn-" The armadillo was absolutely still. He was pretty cute. Before he could protest, Dré gave him a squeeze, looking past him to see that his stompers were sopping wet.

"Hey, I don't mind," Dré said with a friendly smile, reaching down to rub the armadillo's head. "Keep it up, if you wanna. I won't tell if you won't."

"Mmnm-'' the kid nodded, closing his eyes and diving back in with the hunger of someone who'd just had the sexual awakening of a life time. Dré settled back and sighed.

"That's the third time this trip," he murmured to himself, curling his toes and biting his lip. "Guess I'm just that irresistible, huh."

He wasn't in any rush. He could spend an extra day or two here.

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