The Agent 99 Project

Reader discretion is adviced, this story contain graphic content depicting violence and rape which may not be suitable to all readers. This is a fictional story and do not portray real events or real persons.

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Agent Diego P. Fidel awoke in a fog. He was groggy and tired and nauseous as he came in the dark narrow alleyway. He was trying to make out his exact location by looking up at the plentiful stars between the two tall buildings, where his solid beefy body was sprawled out next to his recently fired gun.

During one of his many cigar breaks, a few months prior, he stepped out onto the roof and somehow reconnected with his childhood hobbies of looking up at the constellations, wishing on shooting stars and dreaming endless dreams he once had. But, in spite of his many ambitions, it was law enforcement that proved to be his true calling. A calling that ultimately led him to his current post as the appointed new overseer of The Thompsolin Project, one of the greatest and most secretive projects his counterintelligence agency had ever devised, converting the most infamous of supervillians into superb outstanding superheroes.

With that new weight of responsibility, however, came a whole sea of fresh subordinates he never even worked with or never even heard of. One in particular that seemed to catch his wandering eye was Agent Eugenio Dundas, a super geek by day with a dash of bad boy by night, hidden behind his rust-colored eyes that desperately wanted to come out. Much the same, Agent Fidel was intrigued to come out of his clothes and show off his skinny hairless frame.

Agent Fidel knew that he was playing with fire with a work romance, but after giving a good part of his life to the agency he thought he should’ve reaped some of the fruits of his labor, assigning Agent Dundas to all the best tasks—right by his side. And being that Agent Fidel was fifteen years his senior and spent just as many years in counterintelligence, Agent Fidel was an expert in playing mind games to his benefit, oftentimes knowing full well that he had Agent Dundas question whether or not subtle gestures were polite courtesies or mere come-ons.

An overnight road trip ending in a lone motel room left absolutely nothing to the imagination as the senior Agent Fidel made himself comfortable, spending most of his time in the nude playing with his large unruly cock while watching countless hours of hardcore porn as he observed his mortified subordinate out of the corner of his eye. Apparently, the taunting and the torment of the waking hours had finally gotten the best of Agent Dundas tried to be careful in not awaking his boss, Agent Fidel was good at not letting on that he was awake. Instead, Agent Fidel lazily opened his legs wider, letting Agent Dundas take “advantage” of him by devouring it into his mouth. And then, within minutes Agent Fidel leisurely spewed his milkshake into his mouth.

The next morning, Agent Fidel never let on about the night before, only to suggest that his core strangely felt empty. To which, Agent Dundas said nothing, and sheepishly smiled as if he had swallowed a canary—or a quart of manmilk. Agent Fidel continued to keep a strong eye on him, hoping that the young agent would break down and confess to what he had done. He refused. And in a strange twist of things, it was Agent Fidel that broke, forcing Agent Dundas onto his knees and availing himself of that sweet mouth again.

“Is this a different project?” Agent Dundas asked several weeks after their initial encounter, with his face buried in the clean-scented armpit of Agent Diego Fidel as he flipped through the comics while the two of the laid in bed.

“No,” Agent Fidel snapped, agitated the boy wanted to ruin his serene mood by talking about work. “The Agent 99 Project is a subsidiary of The Thompsolin Project overall, dealing specifically with Duratal, a very powerful supervillain that can alter events in the past or in the future, who had finally seen the errors of his wrongdoing ways. He wants to be a help to our side.”

Agent Dundas chuckled.

“What’s so damn funny?” Agent Fidel inquired.

“What kind of power is messing with time…honestly?” Agent Dundas chuckled some more.

“It is one of the greatest, if not the most powerful of all. Going back and altering time is very dangerous. If you come across an event in a person’s life you could very well change the outcome of their whole life and those unknowingly effected by that event.”

“Really?” Agent Dundas asked.

“Really,” Agent Fidel said. “Just think about it. If you never saw the cop that was forced to kill the man that held you hostage, you might not have ever turned your life around. Rather than being the outstanding agent you are today you might still be out there on the streets at the mercy of those pimps.”

Agent Fidel didn’t mean to bring that up about his secretive past, but thought it was a very effective way to drive home his point.

Even so, Agent Fidel felt the lanky junior go limp under his arm, drifting off into yonder.

“I’m sorry.” Agent Fidel said, leaning over and giving him a kiss on the head. “I didn’t mean to bring that up. I’m just simply saying that messing with time like Duratal can, can sometimes take away the many positives that are sometimes born out of the tragedies in our lives. It shapes who we are, that’s all.”

As Agent Eugenio Dundas balanced his tailbone on the top of the white-marbled counter in the empty white bathroom, Agent Fidel rocked steady into him the best way he could with his pants wrapped down around his ankles, constricting his wider stance as he bucked into his subordinate mercilessly and with joyful abandon.

While Agent Fidel had long since grown tired of his subordinate in general, he enjoyed every minute of every willing opportunity to make good use of his eager mouth or mount that quivering tight hole—even at work, from the offices to the empty floors of the building to the abandoned bathrooms nearby, anytime anywhere. Agent Fidel took sadistic joy out of listening to the former call boy wince like he had never felt so full in his life with a big python snaking up and down his loosening ass was like music to his ears.

Like the former slut he was, Agent Dundas gushed and squealed like a born-again virgin, squeezing out every drop of cream from his dripping faucet, bringing Agent Fidel to his own shuddering climax, inflating his magnum rubber with fresh-churned spunk into his twitching anus.

Unlike usual, though, where Agent Fidel would quickly pull out of him and go about his business until he was ready to go again, Agent Fidel was immediately washed over by a weird sense of finality. And while he tried his best to keep his feet off the ground by staying inside of Agent Dundas as long as he could with his hardened sex, eventually it went limp and helplessly slid out of him.

“I think that was one of our hottest scenes to date,” Agent Dundas beamed as he placed his feet up on the floor and pulled up his pants.

A few moments later, Agent Fidel and Agent Dundas were fully clothed and totally removed from their earlier trysts apart from the cooling sensation of dried sweat dancing across their foreheads. The two men were standing before several other agents flanking Duratal, an orange mountain of a man that was as wide as the ocean and as buffed as a lumberjack, wearing nothing more than a thin film of black with lines of green digitalized numbers fox-trotting across his massive groin region and identical armbands.

“Are you ready to go?” Agent Fidel asked Duratal.

The large, grotesquely mean-looking man nodded.

As both Agent Fidel and Agent Dundas led him to the van, they equally explained that they were taking him to a debriefing center before sending him off to another facility for a briefing about his upcoming role in The Thompsolin Project.

Being that Duratal wasn’t a captive or anyone that would cause harm to anyone without immediate provocation, it was often customary for the agency to have one disarmed agent ride with the new recruit, talk with them, while the other agent drove. Because Agent Fidel was a supervisor, he opted to drive, leaving Duratal to take up most of the space in the back transport next to a dwarfed Agent Dundas. Aside from a few mumbles, the ride was pretty much quiet. Much to Agent Fidel’s surprise after he had gotten within five blocks of the debriefing facility, he had heard a loud boom, blowing out the van’s back doors.

“What the fuck!” Agent Diego Fidel screamed, steadying the wheel from the initial shock while keeping an eye on the two fleeting men.

After Agent Fidel got over the initial shock of being stunned, he threw the van back in reverse and began chasing after them.

When their paths began to get a little too tight for the van, Agent Fidel started chasing them by foot down a long alleyway when Agent Dundas began tossing debris in the path of Agent Fidel hot on his trail. And just when Agent Fidel decided to draw his weapon and fire, he saw Agent Dundas reach up into his shoulder holster, pull out his .38 caliber, aimed and shot, knocking Agent Fidel’s gun clean out of his hand. And with the sheer force of knocking it out of his hand, it knocked him to the ground.

When Agent Fidel came to, on his back looking up at the sky, he felt different. Like another moment of déjà vu had come over him, washed over not by finality this time, but like he was in the same place but at a different time.

Agent Fidel tried to retrace his steps back to the van. It was no longer there where he remembered. He looked up and down the street for it. Oddly enough, the street looked enough the same yet it didn’t look like the same street he had been traveling down earlier. Confused and nauseous, Agent Fidel decided to walk to the debriefing center in the far distance.

Once there, Agent Fidel seemed to be invisible to all the people he had known, past and present, within the agencies over the years. He tried everything in his power to get their attention. But it was no good. Soon, he saw why as he saw a younger version of himself leaning against a desk with his coffee mug in hand, talking to his former supervisor and his late boss Abram Kissinger, a decorated assault and strategist officer, to head the S.W.A.T. division combating supervillians terrorizing the city.

“This was barely ten years ago.” Agent Fidel, the current, said amazed at his former youthful self in the face. “Fucking time travel! But how?”

Agent Fidel couldn’t think about the question stirring about in his head. About Agent Dundas and his incessant need for him to have Duratal bring him back to his particular place in time. As Agent Fidel thought about it, his mind was running back to the countless conversations he and his subordinate had shared over the past few weeks between trysts.

“Ten years ago, I was still in counterintelligence meaning that Eugenio would’ve been still hustling off Tyson Street.” Agent Fidel said to himself, and it was then that he remembered about the hostage situation Agent Dundas was involved in, a pinpoint in his life that made him become a detective and later the rising agent in counterintelligence he had become.

“Do you really believe this shit is going to work?” A large man with an incredibly smooth oversized head asked another young man dressed in a raggedy retro spray-painted ensemble.

The larger man was bulging with muscles but had a smooth baby face, making him appear much younger than his overdeveloped body might have suggested.

“Yeah, Viper,” the young man in the spray-painted denim obviously the younger version of Agent Eugenio Dundas, smiled in the small, cramped efficiency. “I’ve been out here selling my ass for my next meal while my bastard of a good-for-nothing father got the pickings of the cherries, living high of the hog off of his millions, millions that my mother helped him earn.”

Viper began to look like cross between sad and serious, and said spacey, pressing his smaller lover between his two massive arms, “Now that you got me, Eugenio, you don’t have to do that anymore.”

“I know.” Eugenio said somberly.

“What I don’t understand, though, how come you just don’t come out and ask him for the money.”

“Because, when my mom was around, I didn’t have to worry about these things. She had the worthless son of a bitch by the balls. She knew if it ever got that she had me while he was still married it would’ve spelt disaster for his career. But now that she’s gone, it’s pretty much my word against his.”

“You could send off for one of those DNA tests like they do on those talk shows to prove that he is the father.”

“He knows he’s my father, and still he hasn’t done anything to save me. Besides, he would do everything in his power to stop me from getting a sample of his DNA. Even if he did fork it over, with all the goons he got on his payroll, I would be dead before the results came out.”

“He seems so good with his other son that I would think that he would welcome another son.”

“It’s because of his other son that he doesn’t recognize me. His mother, my father’s wife, died in childbirth having the “miracle” baby being it was believed the couple was barren, which propelled my father from a mere judge to a Supreme Court magistrate.

If that’s how he’s going to act cut your losses and move on. “Viper offered.

“I need the money.”

“Well, if money is all you need, then I can call my friend Duratal. We can watch the lottery tonight, goo back in time right quick and play the numbers.”

 

Viper was a supervillain, Agent Fidel concluded.

“You’re missing the point, Viper. I want the money to be violently stained with his blood, sweat, and tears. What a better way to get him to cough up the dough by holding his beloved son hostage?”

Agent Fidel scanned the efficiency until he looked over at the closed door over in the corner with a light illuminating through the cracks. At first, he thought it was the bathroom, but saw that it was slightly ajar. As he made his way through it, he saw that it was a very small closet. And in it was a younger, handsome man blinded, bound and gagged to a chair with earplugs stuffed in his ear. A man Agent Fidel suspected to be Harve Scherzinger, the judge’s beloved son.

Agent Fidel steeped out, knowing that he was truly helpless to do anything in his current state, and when he came out he saw Agent Dundas and Duratal standing in the far corner of the room, watching Viper with the younger version of Agent Dundas.

“Is this the part you want to change?” Duratal said in a light masculine voice that almost betrayed his humongous frame.

“No.” Agent Dundas shook his head.

“Why?” Duratal asked.

“Because this was the last time I was with him.”

“But,” Duratal said and then quickly stopped.

“If he stopped it, it won’t be.” Agent Fidel spoke.

Agent Dundas seemed surprised seeing him, but not Duratal, who made an aggressive moved towards Agent Fidel.

“You tried to kill me just like you did him.” Duratal said, pointing over at Viper.

“I apologize.” Agent Fidel said emotionless.

“Apologize?! If it wasn’t for me setting the timer I could have been killed!” Duratal said towering over the calm Agent Fidel.

“You bolted with my agent. How was I supposed to know that he was the one behind all of this, behind the murder of your friend?” Agent Fidel said.

Duratal looked down at him in thought.

“If I knew then what I knew now Viper would have never been killed nor you shot at.” Agent Fidel exhaled.

“I know.” Agent Dundas said. If I hadn’t convinced him to go along with my plan he would still be alive. The only man I had ever loved and loved and loved me back.

By then, Viper was on the floor with his pants down around his ankles ad Eugenio eased his way onto his stout cock. Viper anxiously pushed hard into him as it was obviously written all over Eugenio’s face as he grabbed his waist forcing him to sit on it. The two of them settled into a rhythm quickly, and it was hot, like two mammals mating for the survival of their species. Almost as if Viper knew it was going to be their last fuck. Eugenio was moaning riding him up and down while Viper was sliding in and out of that slippery hole grunting. And then like coming to the end of a mechanical ride it came to a screeching halt with Viper being the one sounding off.

“Damn,” Viper breathed. “You are so convincing when you want to be.”

“Now,” Agent Dundas said to Duratal as he watched his younger self settle in on top of Viper.

Duratal nodded and touch one of his digitalized armbands.

It seemed at first that nothing happened, except somehow Agent Fidel and Agent Dundas felt like they were in the moment. This became even more apparent when both of them saw Viper look over at Duratal.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Duratal?” Viper asked.

“I came to save you.”

The younger Eugenio Dundas, visibly flushed with embarrassment, jumped from Viper’s lap and pulled up his pants nearby, asking, “How did all of you get in here.”

“I’ll take too long to explain,” barked Agent Dundas. “All you need to do is trust me. The two of you got to get out of here before the police come in and kill you.”

“Me?” Viper asked.

“You?”

“And how do you know that?”

“I’m him, ten years from now.”

“How?” The younger Eugenio Dundas asked, beating Viper to the punch and taking a good look at his later self.

“Like I said, no time to explain, in the next couple of minutes S.W.A.T is going to come in and shoot Viper. If we hadn’t have come in when we did, Viper was going to flip you on your back. When they come in and see him on top of you, they’re going to immediately think its Harve he is on top of. He gets killed, and you get mildly wounded.”

Viper looked over at Duratal, nodding in approval.

“Okay,” Viper said in a panic, pulling up his pants and trying to make up his mind as to where to go. “What do we do?”

“We got a small window of time to make it down the hill before they come storming up…after that Duratal said history will rewrite itself a little before this point—like that brief period of time of how you got from Point A to Point B—in which we interfered with it and then it will play itself out naturally.”

Leaving Harve Scherzinger in the closet, the five of them had made it down the final flight of stairs before they were being passed through the S.W.A.T. team, making sure they were out of harm’s way.

“Ever sucked a dick before?” Former Counterintelligence Agent Diego Fidel asked of the skinny little punk assigned to his cell, as he slid off of the top bunk.

“Fuck, no,” he said unconvincingly, sitting on the edge of the bottom bunk.

“You will while you’re living in here. You’ll suck every dick I put in your punk-ass face.”

“No, I won’t.” He muttered.

“What you say?” Diego Fidel growled, showing every line of his five years behind bars.

“Nothing,” he backed down.

“Good. Because as far as it goes, you’ll be my pretty boy from now on—or at least until I get tired of you. Got a name?”

“Harve. Harvey Scherzinger.” Harve said, keeping his rust-colored eyes to the floor.

“How come that name sounds familiar?” Diego asked, standing directly in front of him with his cock bulging in his face.

“I don’t know.”

“I know where I heard of that name before. That bastard Scherzinger is the son of a bitch that put me in here. He had a son named Harvey, held up in a hostage situation back when I was in the department. But I doubt that is you. There is no way that they would put his son in the same cell as the man that he convicted.” Diego said rubbing his hand through Harve’s hair and grabbed a handful of it, snatching it up and forcing Harve to look him the eye. “Ain’t no way…unless it was a belated birthday gift from my friend in the capital.”

Harve was motionless, as tears filled his eyes.

“I guess after your father got caught with his own hand in the cookie jar, they just didn’t give a shit what happened to you.”

Diego let him go, and then slapped him with an opened callused hand, leaving the poor fuck senseless as he maneuvered him onto the bed and snatched his prison jumpsuit off in the process.

“And if it wasn’t implied,” Diego said unzipping his pants and pushing Harve’s face into the pillow. “You’ll take every dick I put up to your puckered slophole.”

Harve tired to fight back, feeling the big head of his meat forcing its way into his ass as the rest of Diego Fidel came across his back. “Come on, baby, take your new man’s dick up that sweet tight ass of yours.”

Without much more protest, Diego felt Harve trying to relax and bringing his butt back to meet his searing thrust. Diego knew Harve was a limp wrist from the second he came into the cell. He felt no remorse at all when he humped away at him.

“Yeah, just give me that shit like you love it.” Diego panted. Pleased at the wincing pain he was causing Harve. “This is your prison superhero dick. Gonna protect you from all those nasty fuckers that want a piece of this.” He sadistically joked, fucking him harder and faster as Harve tensed up his ass muscles.

“I knew you like this shit!” Diego grunted. “About to make me…oh goddamn…ahhh shit!”

Harve felt his hole radiate with pure heat as the mammoth pole inside of his grew larger and spurted off another jet of thick spunk into his tight channel.

Diego then collapsed, resting on top of his new conquest and enjoyed the momentary bliss before another fellow inmate by the name of Viper walked by the opening of his cell still mumbling the same thing he had been mumbling for years, something about taking the wrap for his time-traveling friend Duratal who ran off with his boyfriend Eugenio.

 

If there was such a person, Diego thought, I would tell him to go back in time and get me the fuck out of here!