Chapter 3: The Vanishing
The black van sliced through the inky blackness of the rural roads beyond Westfield University, its engine a low, steady growl that vibrated through the chassis. Inside, the atmosphere was heavy with the metallic scent of restraints and a sterile undertone from the medical supplies tucked away in hidden compartments. Dr Harlan lounged in the front passenger seat, his tablet glowing faintly as he monitored the feeds from the rear cameras. Vital signs were climbing as the sedatives ebbed, and he noted with satisfaction the subtle spikes in heart rates. Victor, his muscular assistant, gripped the wheel with calloused hands, his broad shoulders tense but focused. The operation had gone smoothly: the spiked drinks, the lures, the swift transfers. Now, secured in the cargo hold, lay the five athletes, their peak physiques already showing signs of the enhancements Harlan had administered en route. A quick injection for each, a cocktail of aphrodisiacs and fertility boosters, designed to prime them for the harvest. Their bodies would respond soon enough, whether their minds willed it or not.
In the dimly lit rear section, partitioned off like a mobile cell, the jocks were strapped to padded benches, wrists and ankles bound with padded cuffs that allowed just enough movement to tease without escape. The initial sedatives had worn off, but the new injections were kicking in, a warm flush spreading through their veins. Jake stirred first, his massive six-foot-three frame shifting against the restraints, a deep groan rumbling from his chest. His black T-shirt had bunched up during the loading, revealing the sculpted valleys of his abs, each ridge glistening with a fresh sheen of sweat. His jeans clung to his thighs like a second skin, the fabric straining over the pronounced bulge at his crotch, where his thick cock nestled heavy and unaware. As awareness flooded back, Jake’s blue eyes snapped open, confusion morphing into anger. He yanked at the cuffs, his biceps swelling impressively, veins threading across his arms like lightning. “What the hell is this?” he barked, his voice thick from the drugs. But then, a strange heat bloomed in his groin, his cock twitching involuntarily, beginning to thicken against the denim. “Shit… why am I…?” He trailed off, incredulous, feeling his balls ache with an unnatural fullness, as if they were swelling with pent-up seed. Kidnapped, bound, and now this? His straight mind reeled, the arousal betraying him in the worst possible moment.
Ryan came to next, his lean swimmer’s body arching slightly as the fog lifted. His white polo gaped open at the buttons, exposing the smooth planes of his pecs and the faint trail leading down to his navel. The chinos moulded to his hips, outlining the long girth of his package, which stirred subtly as the injection took hold. Green eyes widening in alarm, he pulled at the restraints, his wide shoulders flexing, the V of his back pressing into the bench. “Guys? Anyone?” His voice echoed, but then he felt it—a insistent throb in his cock, lengthening and hardening without reason, his balls tightening with a heavy, full sensation that made him squirm. “No way… this can’t be happening. Why the fuck am I getting hard now?” Incredulity laced his words, his mind screaming denial while his body responded eagerly, the heat spreading like fire. Straight as they came, Ryan had never felt arousal this misplaced, this forced, his nuts feeling bloated, ready to burst, as if primed for something sinister.
Tyler jolted awake with a savage growl, his compact powerhouse of a body thrashing against the bonds, the grey tank top plastered to his barrel chest with sweat, nipples peaking through the fabric. His shorts had ridden up, baring more of his quads and the meaty swell of his cock, which pulsed to life under the shorts, thickening noticeably. “You motherfuckers! Let me out!” he roared, brown eyes fierce, arms straining until the cuffs bit into his skin. But amid the rage, a wave of unwanted lust crashed over him, his thick shaft stiffening further, balls churning with an exaggerated fullness that made them ache deliciously. “What the… my dick’s… why?” He shook his head, disbelief etching his features, the erotic betrayal humiliating in the face of captivity. His straight conquests flashed through his mind—women writhing under him—but here, bound in a van, his body was turning traitor, cock rigid and balls swollen as if loaded for endless release.
Alex roused more quietly, his lithe track-star frame twisting on the bench, the blue button-up rumpled and open, revealing the lean etchings of his collarbones and chest. Jeans hugged his legs, the curve of his cock becoming evident as it stirred, lengthening along his thigh. Hazel eyes fluttering open, he whispered, “This isn’t real… right?” Panic edged his voice as he tugged at the cuffs, abs contracting sharply. Then the injection’s effects hit full force, his shaft hardening inexplicably, balls feeling heavier, fuller, like they were brimming with seed begging to be spilled. “Oh god, why am I aroused? This is fucked up!” Incredulity widened his eyes, his straight sensibilities clashing with the physical response, the van’s vibrations only teasing the growing erection further, making his nuts throb with unnatural pressure.
Brad, the behemoth, groaned as consciousness returned, his six-foot-seven frame overwhelming the bench, the red hoodie unzipped to show the ladder of his abs, each one taut and defined. Basketball shorts barely contained the massive bulge between his thighs, the veiny outline of his horse cock shifting as it began to swell. Grey eyes opening groggily, he rumbled, “What kind of sick prank…?” He flexed against the restraints, shoulders rolling with power, but then the heat surged, his enormous length thickening, balls aching with a profound fullness that bordered on discomfort. “No… my cock’s getting hard? In a goddamn kidnapping?” Disbelief thundered in his voice, the straight giant’s mind rejecting the arousal while his body embraced it, the injection turning his virility into a weapon against himself, nuts swelling as if preparing for a marathon of extraction.
Voices overlapped in the confined space, a chorus of confusion and outrage. “Feel that? Like someone’s messing with us,” Jake said, his bulge now tenting his jeans obviously, cock fully erect and straining, balls heavy with forced production. Ryan nodded, his own erection pressing insistently against his chinos, the fullness in his sac making him shift uncomfortably. “Yeah, my balls feel… fuller. What did they do to us?” Tyler grunted, his meaty shaft rigid under his shorts, the ache in his nuts intensifying the humiliation. “This ain’t right. Straight up kidnapped and now boners? Bullshit.” Alex panted, his curving length throbbing, balls swollen and sensitive. “It’s like we’re being… primed.” Brad’s massive package tented his shorts dramatically, the weight in his balls undeniable. “Whatever it is, it’s working too well.”
The speaker crackled, Dr Harlan’s voice smooth and amused. “Ah, you’re feeling the effects already. Excellent. Those injections are just a prelude, gentlemen. They enhance arousal and production—your bodies are optimising for the harvest ahead. Struggle all you like; it only heightens the response.” The words sent a collective shiver through them, but their cocks betrayed no fear, only stiffening further, balls churning with increased fullness. Jake’s blue eyes flashed defiance, but his erection pulsed, pre-cum dampening his boxers. “You sick fuck!” Ryan’s lean body arched, the throb in his groin relentless, nuts feeling overloaded. Tyler roared, his thick cock jumping, the fullness excruciatingly erotic. Alex whimpered softly, his shaft aching for touch, balls heavy as lead. Brad flexed, his horse-like length straining the fabric, the swell in his sac promising volumes.
The van bumped along, the vibrations teasing their aroused states, bodies on lewd display—sweat-slicked muscles, heaving chests, rigid bulges. The air thickened with pheromones, the incredulity of their straight minds clashing with the forced lust, balls fuller than ever, hinting at the milking to come. Harlan watched the feeds, zooming on their crotches: Jake’s thick tent, Ryan’s long outline, Tyler’s meaty swell, Alex’s curve, Brad’s massive protrusion. “Their yields will be extraordinary,” he murmured to Victor. The vehicle sped on, carrying the athletes towards the facility, where restraints would tighten, clothes would fall, and machines would claim their essence, over and over. The erotic tension coiled tighter, their bodies awakening to a new reality of submission and endless harvest.
