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Trinity - Recruitment Written by Leo_Todrius and Trickster_D Commissioned by Kai-Panda

Stars shone bright in the sky, but as vibrant as they were it felt as if their light could not reach every dark corner of the massive island city of Trinity. The sound of the ocean was distant, muffled by the labyrinth of industrial buildings. Some were empty, ready for conversion to modern use at a later time while others had simply deteriorated. It was an eerie wasteland in a city of sophistication... a perfect breeding ground for poor decisions.

"Are you sure about this?" Nolan's voice, despite being no higher than a whisper, bounced around the empty building and was eerily amplified, so much so that the young punk shivered at the sound of his own words. "This place looks dangerous." His fingers clutched around the tazer nestled in the pocket of his leather jacket, ready to take it off in case of a surprise assault.

"Yeah, man... Come on, relax!" Casey exclaimed back, in his usual laid-back tone. The younger man, no older than nineteen years old - quite literally, since his birthday had been three days prior - looked at his best friend and lover, his bright green eyes shining under the masterfully unkempt bangs and the colorful beanie he was wearing. "They say this new stuff is awesome, completely different from everything else!" Nolan nodded, really slowly.

"I just don't want anything bad happen to the both of us, okay?" he said in a serious tone. "To you especially," he added then, as an afterthought. Casey giggled and turned around to kiss his boyfriend gently on the lips, an innocent and tender gesture that left on the punk's lips the acrid aftertaste of the joint Casey had smoked less than an hour before.

"Don't worry, we'll be fine as always!" he replied. "You know, you should try Cavalry too... They say it's guaranteed to change your perspective on life forever." Nolan frowned, wondering who exactly those 'they' were.

"We'll see," he replied. He was three years older than his boyfriend, and he had always tried to act as the voice of reason, to be strong and mature and intimidating enough to protect Casey from the dangers of Trinity. He was tall, with broad shoulders and quite the impressive physique covered in skulls, thorns, flames and band logos, especially on his arms and back; he always donned combat boots and leather attires, and his favorite jacket - the one that was wearing at the moment - was midnight black and with enough spikes to make a porcupine envious; thick and heavy silver hoops hang from his ears, and a tall, perfectly sculpted teal mohawk crowned his otherwise smooth shaved head. In other words, he was badass and someone not to be messed with, and he wanted the world at large to know at a first glance.

Casey, on the other hand... He was pure, innocent and full of zest, despite the fact that his life hadn't been exactly a joyride. Of course, he wasn't the brightest tool in the shed, probably because of all the drugs he had ingested, smoked, injected and inhaled in the course of the years, since he was barely a teenager... But there was something in him, in his lithe body, in his pale skin with just a hint of freckles, in his shaggy hair and in his slightly pointed ears that made him stand out, as if he was a post-modern Peter Pan ready to take those willing to follow him to a secret Neverland. And Nolan, from the very first time he had seen the young stoner, had felt a need to protect him, to keep him safe as much as he could.

The address Casey had been given was for an old sorting warehouse that hadn't been used since the Department of Defense had pulled out of Trinity. It was a classic brick and mortar building with sturdy architecture and large warehouse doors - one of which had been damaged, a corner bent and pried up to give access to the building within. It was a narrow fit, one that didn't make it easy to come and go but it kept a low profile.

Before Nolan could say anything about how fishy the whole building looked like or that Casey should have at least let him go inside first in case someone was there ready to rob them, the young stoner had already slipped inside the building; the idea of trying a new experimental drug was making him as excitable and happy as a kid, and the punk knew it was next to impossible to restrain Casey in such a state... It would have been like trying to tame a young wild colt.

"Hey!" Nolan still exclaimed, squeezing his much bigger body through the narrow gap. "Wait for me, Casey!" As Nolan stumbled into the warehouse, it wasn't long before more warning bells were ringing. There seemed to be some cursory attempt to make it feel like a fantastic new drug hangout; there were chips and cans of beer laid out on a table and lasers projected a mesmerizing light show across the cement floor... but in the end it was still a warehouse, large and empty and ominous. Nolan walked to his boyfriend, his heavy combat boots strangely silent against the floor of the empty warehouse, his eyes darting around: he moved like a leather-clad predator, bent on defending his partner.

"Shouldn't there be more people here?" the punk asked, but Casey, who had apparently seen something interesting, ignored him and trotted towards a nearby table that had been placed more or less in the center of the large hall.

"Woooooooow..." the stoner murmured in a daze, staring at the strange objects on the table. "Look at these things, Nolan! They are wicked cool!" The objects that had ensnared Casey's attention certainly stood out. Five black latex masks had been set out neatly in a row, each one molded into the vague interpretation of an equine head. The horse eyes were replaced with black lenses and the sides bulged out into air filters. They were sophisticated and streamlined, animal and science, an odd combination that gave no hint as to why they were at the party, except perhaps the obvious.

"Don't you dare touching them, Casey," Nolan growled as he noticed his boyfriend's fingers going dangerously close to one of the five masks. There was something deeply unsettling in them, something that the young punk couldn't properly defined... Except that those horse masks looked really out of place. "Not until we know what they are and who left them here." The stoner pouted a bit.

"Awww, but I want to try one!" he complained. "I mean, look at how awesome they are! And what could be wrong in wearing a mask anyway? It's not like they are weapons or something." Nolan shook his head.

"Who knows? Maybe there's some deadly poison inside the air filters," he replied.

"Oh, come on, now you're just being paranoid for the sake of being paranoid," Casey frowned.

"Didn't you come all this way to try them?" The voice asking the question was deep and resonating, coming from across the room. The voice emanated from the broad chest of a towering figure, one wearing green leathery latex and an impressive black mask. A double set of dog tags hung around his neck, completing the military aesthetic. He was huge, almost inhumanly tall and strong, dripping with power. Nolan, almost instinctively, stepped in front of his boyfriend and stared at the mysterious masked man with open hostility.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked, getting ready to extract his tazer. "Is this stuff yours?" he then added, glancing at the five masks for a moment.

"This stuff is for everyone... It is a pathway to a new life, a life with fewer concerns and more contentment, a path to brotherhood. Is that not what you came for, or at least... your brave friend?" The man in the mask asked. Nolan, despite the fact that the man in front of him was intimidating and bigger than him, didn't divert his gaze.

"You still haven't answered my first question," he growled. "And what do you mean with 'that what you came for'?" Understanding suddenly dawned in his brain as his eyes bulged a bit. "Unless... That's Cavalry?!" The name was appropriate, after all... But how could a drug also be a latex mask? Suddenly the idea that poison had been loaded into the filters didn't seem so crazy.

"C-Cavalry?" Casey murmured behind Nolan. "You mean there's drug in those masks?" He sounded confused and full of doubts, all of a sudden. "Um... I dunno, man, they look cool, but... It sounds a bit too extreme, even for me."

"Too extreme? Is there anything too extreme for the sort of thrills you're seeking?" Mask asked, stepping into the light, seeming even more imposing. Behind the lenses, his eyes were calculating. He knew the punk would protect the kid. Scenarios ran through his head as he considered every possible outcome.

"Don't you dare getting any closer, dude. I'm warning you," Nolan said. "We're leaving, Casey. Right now," he then told his younger companion, who nodded despite trembling. Mask made no move, watching them go, returning toward the crude gap in the bent door. No doubt Nolan would try to push Casey through first, and Mask even allowed that process to start before his hand came up. There was a harsh whistling through the air before something dense hit Nolan's legs and wrapped around them.

The black banding hissed as it sealed, forming a zip tie like restraint that inhibited any movement from the punk's knees. Nolan fell on the ground, air escaping from his lungs.

"F-fuck..." he growled, looking back at the thing restraining his legs. "Casey, run!" he exclaimed. "I'll take care of this shithead, okay?" From the other side of the door, the young stoner looked back at his boyfriend with wide, watery eyes.

"B-but..." he murmured, his hands trembling. "T-this is... this is my fault... I brought you here, and..."

"Who cares?!" Nolan screamed. "If you stay here, you'll be in danger! I can take care of myself!" Before Casey could reply, though, there was another whistling hiss before a band caught the young man's wrist and yanked him all the way back to the metal door where the band adhered, trapping him against the wall. Mask slowly advanced, lowering the restraint gun before it attached to his hip. He eyed the two carefully. There was no way to see what he was feeling. Did he have a predatory grin? Was he grim at what he had to do? Nolan and Casey had only the emotionless stare of the glistening black mask to relate to as their captor advanced.

The punk looked up at the mysterious man with a look of impotence and disgust deforming his face. "Let him go!" he screamed, trying to break the dark zip tie to no avail. "Let him go, you fucker!"

"P-please..." Casey was openly weeping. "W-we just wanted to have some fun, please... We didn't want to do anything wrong... L-let us go, mister..." Their captor reached over and picked up two of the masks, clutching the nape of them in his palm as he moved closer.

"There's something more important than fun... Something more useful that men your age should be doing... You have a duty to serve, and it is time for your recruitment." Mask replied.

Nolan looked at Mask with pure hatred and spit at him, the trail of saliva splattering against the green latex that coated his ankle. "Fuck you!" he growled. "You know where you can shove those fucking masks?"

"Yes, yes I do." The captor replied simply, bringing one down to Nolan's face. He pulled it tight, the rubber sliding over his stubbled cheeks, the edges clutching at the punk's ears as it settled into place. It covered his chin and face and the sides of his head, ruffling against the front of his teal mohawk. There was a strange vibration before straps launched out, one on each side of the mohawk and two more around the back of his head. They slapped together like wet tendrils before melting together.

All at once, the mask started its work, drawing all air out of Nolan's lungs. The vacuum was intense, a pressure weighing down on his chest unlike anything he had ever experienced before. His hand desperately tried to clutch around the hard plastic surface of the tazer in his pocket, but his fingers started trembling wildly and uncontrollably, as if he was suffering from an epileptic stroke; he had no control whatsoever on his limbs anymore, and could only squirm and shake on the ground as the unearthly mask wrapped around his head more tightly.

"N-Nolan...?" Casey murmured behind a veil of tears. "Nolan, p-please... T-talk to me..." He stared at Mask with the same expression of a small mongoose in front of a poisonous snake. "What did you do to him?!"

"He's becoming part of something bigger, but don't worry... We never leave a man behind." Mask replied with a sinewy pleasure in his voice. The vacuum in Nolan's lungs was replaced with precious gas, something to draw in and fill the void... but the gas was not air. It was damp and hot, smelling like a mix between gym socks and fresh latex rubber. It was sickly sweet and almost at once Nolan felt strange... Dirty and fearless, rough and tough and brave, prideful... oddly prideful.

This is... Nolan said to himself, despite the mist enveloping around his brain. Even if this kills us, at least we'll die feeling good. He couldn't help but smile under the mask at that stray thought. The interchange taking place inside of Nolan's body was quick moving. Every cell of his blood was being infused with the GP-60 formula. Veins bulged shortly before muscles started to expand even more, pushing out against the punk's jacket. His already large shoulders broadened and his pectorals filled out, almost to bodybuilder proportions. His stomach hardened and defined. Hairs starts pushing out thicker on his arms as his testosterone mounted.

Nolan's growth was impressive but it was taking a toll. His stomach rumbled and growled hungrily, only able to leach so much from his own natural reserves... but the mask had that under control as well. Concentrated nutrients and minerals filtered into the gas and his body made use of them, filling out his legs. Even his kidneys were working harder to process everything. Nolan's beautiful and magnificent teal mohawk was starting to change, at least at the roots as the dye was negated and the hair slowly returned to its natural black. It matched the equine mask better, looking almost like a horse with his mane.

The transforming punk finally stopped stirring in fear and distress for the mysterious gas invading his very being, and instead wriggled in pure animalistic pleasure. His worries, his anxiety, his well-hidden insecurities were getting obliterated and reconstructed from the ground up as the miraculous substance not only reshaped his body but his attitude, his brain and his mind too. As blood started to pump towards his groin, a moan - muffled by the horse mask but still perfectly audible - escaped from his lips.

"I-is he... liking it?" a murmur came from Casey; he was looking at his boyfriend lying on the ground with large bulgy eyes and tears streaming down his face, his simple, drug-corrupted mind filled with doubt and confusion.

"Oh yes... You have no idea how liberating Cavalry is. It's not just a drug, it's an enhancement... It heals, it fortifies. His doubts and worries are fading away and his body is getting stronger." Mask said with a smile, "Plus, since every good soldier needs R&R... there are other aspects of his physiology that can be heightened as well."

"A-and can I... Still be with him? When it's over?" Casey asked in a tiny voice. "That's the only thing that matters to me... I just want to be with him forever." Casey's concerns were met with a hand on his cheek, a comforting gesture from an otherwise disconcerting figure.

"We value loyalty to our team above all else. You can be with him forever, protecting him as he protects you, working together toward a common good. All you need to do is give in, put on a mask as well, join us." Mask murmured, lifting up the other equine shaped gas mask.

"P-protect him...?" Casey stuttered, as if the concept was almost alien to him. "That... that's what I always wanted..." His lithe hand extended, grabbing the hand that was carrying the latex muzzle. "I guess we have a deal, then," he added, before taking the mask from the stranger's fingers and pressing it against his own face in a sudden gesture.

As the mask settled around Casey's face, it felt claustrophobic and entirely too tight. There was no air coming in at first, and then even more terrifyingly it was going out. Casey was breathless, the air drawn out - but only for a moment. As he felt a tightness spread around the back of his head, the seal was complete and air started to return. The gas spilled into Casey's lungs, bringing an uncomfortable wet slickness to the far corners. It almost seemed to fizzle and bubble, but as it did its work it started to break up the trapped tar and sink into the damaged tissue, forcing it to heal and regenerate. Years of bad treatment was being undone in seconds. Each breath allowed Casey's lungs to take in more and more of the miracle gas, and from there the strength started spreading outward.

The young stoner was still pinned against the wall by Mask's binding, so he couldn't fall on the ground just like his partner; as Cavalry began to work its magic, Casey's body writhed and wriggled like a broken marionette, even though the boy wasn't in discomfort... The gas was taking care of that, ensuring that all his doubts and fears were smoothed over and obliterated, leaving him in a peaceful and warm cocoon of bliss.

Casey's chest expanded with each breath, growing wider and wider. A heat emanated from the marrow in his bones as his ribs started to thicken and lengthen, firming up like carbon fiber armor plates. The burning heat throbbed through his arms as well as they pushed out away from his body. His legs weren't far behind, elongating moment by moment. It was like a sudden second puberty ensnaring his senses, letting him blossom to previously impossible lengths.

In the middle of his personal bubble of ecstasy, Casey - or what was left of him - realized he had never felt that good in his whole life; it was like being high, but in a much more intense way and with no repercussion or negative effects. He tried to smile under his mask, but he didn't have control over his body anymore... Not that he cared about that.

Beneath the mask, Casey's bright green eyes were dulling and the jade tones became drab olive ones. Even the former stoner's beanie became loose as his hair shifted. The hair began shedding, slipping off of the scalp and falling down past the straps that held the mask in place, raining down to the ground like angel feathers. It was a sharp contrast to the more masculine body Casey was now in possession of. His arms and legs were long and muscled and hair blossomed across the manly flesh.

"That's it, coming along nicely..." Mask murmured, reaching up. He ran his finger along the cuff that restrained Casey to the wall and slowly it split out before releasing him. Mask crouched down and did the same to Nolan's leg bindings. As he stood up, Mask stretched a bit, "Sadly I don't have the full suit beds here, but I have a temporary alternative so we can get you two in uniform." Mask said, moving over to a table to lift up a pair of latex harnesses. The shoulder straps seemed to contain repositories for more of the mysterious substance Mask was so prolific with.

The former punk and the ex-stoner raised on their feet: they were now taller, larger, more muscled and imposing than ever before; the change was much more noticeable in Casey, since he had never been big or fit. Now, however, he was maybe a couple of inches shorter than his boyfriend, and just as ripped and impressive.

The two were magnificent specimens. Each stood well over six feet tall, adorned with the latex horse masks that contrasted with their toned, healthy flesh. Mask moved up and completed the process of stripping the two of their garments before he gave each their new harness. As the first was slipped around Casey's shoulders and sealed in the back, a bubbling olive green began spilling out from the straps to fill in the space across his pecs and ribs and shoulders, forming a liquid shirt that was hardening into true rubber.

A slight brush of his hand across the collar of the harness revealed a retracted leash, one mask drew out and took with him as he harnessed Nolan as well. The bubbling, spreading synthetic polymer dribbled down their legs, coating everything in precise detail... leaving nothing to the imagination as the cleft of Casey's ass, the heft of his balls and the slope of his cock were individually coated.

"Shadow system, upload R&R protocols to new Cavalry unit." Mask commented idly. Two tiny red lights began blinking on the masks and both Nolan and Casey got flashes of new ideas, cravings, needs and lusts... Feet were more amazing than they had ever been before, from the slope of the arch to the width of the heel to individual toes and how succulent they seemed... and cocks, their length and girth and heads, they were so appetizing, so much to long for and worship. The thoughts were pervasive, overwriting every previous kink the pair had.

The two new soldiers of Mask's army dropped on their knees almost immediately, right in front of him; Nolan started caressing the rubber that covered his left thigh, while Casey let out soft horny moans as the side of his new muzzle brushed against Mask's ankle. They were trying to show gratitude to their master for having reshaped them, for having given them a new purpose; their toned asses, now clad in thin yet resistant green latex, wiggled in the air, looking juicy and inviting.

With that, Mask grinned and chose his willing recruit first. Casey felt a hard, long shaft probing at his latex covered ass before it started to flex and the cock slid in slowly and with great pressure, pushing his cheeks wide. The stoner's pucker was extremely tight, and pain and pleasure mixed inside his brain creating an irresistible cocktail; Casey left out a long moan of satisfaction as the large mushroom-shaped head of Mask's fick impaled him for the first time, scraping against a prostate that had been enlarged and made extremely more sensitive by Cavalry.

The physical sensation was intense and wonderful, but there was an odd subtext in Casey's brain... This was his general mounting him, the proper chain of command. It was oddly fitting and brought even more waves of pleasure through his now loyal and reshaped mind. Mask grabbed onto Casey's hips to anchor himself as he slammed forward and back. No matter how many times he did it, he always felt great contentment to give Trinity's young men a chance at a better, brighter and more productive future.

In the meantime, Nolan was busy exploring the body of his new master; with cautious, respectful hands he caressed every square centimeter of Mask's latex-covered body, trying to find different ways to please him, to give him happiness and to drive him over the edge. To his new drone mind, attending to the desires of the imposing soldier in front of him was an inescapable directive, and something that he gladly desired to perform. In a corner of his mind, he felt a small pang of sadness when he realized that with the mask firmly in place he couldn't use his tongue to increase the stimulation... But that was irrelevant, after all.

Mask thrust harder and faster and deeper, wriggling and shifting until at last his hard cock found that swollen prostate and struck it again and again, sending waves of pleasure through Casey... but Mask didn't forget the rest of his unit. He reached over to pet Nolan's mohawk before he reached down... and down... and down. His hands wrapped around Nolan's drab green covered cock and started to squeeze and rub it, applying pressure all over with a skilled hand.

Nolan squirmed at the expert touch of Mask's hands, his fingertips pressing exactly the most sensitive points of his cock and ballsack; it was as if his green latex member was nothing but a musical instrument and Mask was a virtuoso, playing a symphony of lust that only Nolan could hear directly from the pleasure centers of his new brain. His back arched slightly as a long deep moan escaped from his lips and his hips started grinding against the masked general's hand.

Mask sped up his pace, fucking Casey deeper and working Nolan off, watching the horses writhe and shiver in pleasure. They'd fit in fine with the rest of the unit and the progress would be swift. Mask tilted his hips, increasing the friction his cock produced in the latex sleeve of Casey's ass. It was an amazing uniform, adaptive and freeing and comfortable. Just one more aspect of an outstanding life.

The former stoner wriggled his shapely butt, as if he was inviting Mask to bury his girthy cock even deeper in the rubbery depths of his anus; the sensations he was feeling were incredibly different and much more intense than when he had been high or even when Nolan had fucked him. There was something more organic, more wholesome and complete in the sex he was having, as if Mask's rubbery shaft inside of him was creating a rightful bond between the two of them... no, the three of them, Casey managed to think when his new drone mind focused on Nolan. His comrade, his partner, his soulmate, his other half... They had been converted together, and together they were going to live. The mere thought made Casey's dick began to dribble clear and copious pre on the floor of the warehouse, through a small seam at the tip of his covering.

Mask grunted, rolling his head back as he too came, his seed escaping his complex utility uniform and entering Casey's ass. His eyes closed inside the mask, getting glimpses of victorious and achievements. Recruitment was always amazing, but these two had been unexpectedly fun. Their connection would serve him well.

The mere smell of Mask's spunk made Casey and Nolan's balls churn violently. With an intense spasm, their new mutated cocks sprayed at once, the punk's semen splattering all over his boyfriend's rubbery ass. Nolan felt an odd sensation of pride in imagining his juice mixing with that of his general, as if their essence were connecting on a deeper, secret level. With trembling fingers, he grabbed Mask's free left hand and brought it to his ass, making him press his index and medium fingertips against the gaping pucker and whimpering in need and unquenchable lust.

Max was somewhat surprised by the audaciousness, but at the same time it intrigued him. Perhaps Nolan was destined for a higher rank, but for now he would indulge the drone. He drove his fingers into that ass, sliding them back and forth, groping and pawing at the hot and intimate depths he found there. The punk-maned horse drone murred, nuzzling his master's meaty pec and enjoying the intimate violation of his pucker; discovering his new body and its awesome perks was wonderful, and Nolan couldn't wait to be fucked in the ass by Mask's virile dick just like Casey had.

The former stoner, of course, wasn't wasting time: he was still wiggling his ass, milking the rubbery member inside him for all its worth, his butt cheeks even vibrating in order to give his master and general the most satisfaction possible. He had lived his own life as a human futilely searching for some temporary pleasure, but now he had finally found a neverending source of ecstasy and bliss.

"Welcome to the unit... The first members of my cavalry shall serve our purpose well, but we can't remain here much longer. There are opponents to our cause that I am not yet ready to confront. Unit, prepare to move out." Mask commanded, giving Nolan a nuzzle before withdrawing his fingers from the rubber clad ass.

The punk let out a disappointed noise, but nonetheless helped Casey get back on his feet, semen still dripping from his anus. The two spent a brief moment caressing and comforting each other, their new rubber muzzles pressed together, before they stand into attention, ready to follow whatever order Mask would give to them. Casey, however, caught the attention of the general and pointed at the three remaining horse masks, as if to ask what they were going to do with them. Mask looked at the masks with consideration.

"Perhaps on the way back to base, you can give me intel on those you knew in your former life..." Mask murmured, moving to pick up the devices from the table, looking into the hollow dark eyes of his future soldiers. The two drones nodded at once, ready to oblige. They had been lost souls in a city that was too big and uncaring for them... But now they had a purpose, a new master to serve... And most of all, they had a mission.