Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

F-E-V.

Forced Evolutionary Virus. The name was familiar enough: Seth had heard the biochemical research terms talk about it at great length in theoretical terms, after all, the purification of the Wasteland needed some grand agent to carry it out for the Enclave, and it had always seemed appropriate-enough that the failed-panacea virus should be the method by which the Wasteland was re-settled. What he had not expected to hear, however, was that one of their own had been exposed to it. Further, he had doubly not-expected to hear that rather than be immediately culled, or kept in some vat to see what exactly happens to him, but instead he would be... remade, refashioned, reborn. Triply unexpectedly, he would be at the forefront of such efforts.

He was not, neither by skill, trade, nor interest, a man of the biochemical department. He had made his home in the information department, in psychology, in finding ways to manipulate the individual and the masses to serve the Enclave's needs. He had a vague familiarity with the biochemists he shared a level of the oil rig with, after all, the year before had seen the birth of the wasteland's first intelligent deathclaws, who were subjugated with a design Seth had no shortage of investment in. He was always so very fascinated by behavioral modification, alteration, but that was all too simple: what he really desired was the complete obliteration and re-making of someone's identity, their morality, their very notion of self. Vault-Tec had performed similar experiments in the days before and after the Great War, what with their Brain-Computer Interface, but that was much too... graphic. If you pushed the subject too far, too quickly, their chip would overheat from the exertion needed to control someone's mentality and behavior, causing a very bloody, very unfortunate, explosion. Such was the reason why Seth had always gravitated towards an internal methodology for readjustment: the brain was not prone to blow itself up, after all, and the control would be entirely invisible from the outside. Once Seth had heard the offer, really, the command to involve himself in Frank's re-programming, he could scarcely stop the words falling from his lips:

"I'll, of course, serve this great country however you wish me to, Captain. It will be an honor to reclaim this asset."

Seth had never known Frank before his exposure. He knew of him, sure, the entire Enclave did: he was their golden boy, their crowning achievement. Two-hundred-twenty pounds of pure muscle on a six-foot-four frame had made Frank the talk of the oil rig by itself, but his baby blue eyes and sunlight blonde hair made him a true stud ripped from the limelight of a propaganda poster. He had known of Frank's involvement and high-ranking in the United States Secret Service, and had snooped around some files to discover what, exactly, it was that got Frank shipped off to the mainland, but had never spoken to the man before-hand. He lived in a grim dread of what Frank would look like once he had returned to the oil rig, after all, FEV worked quickly. He expected a melting, half-formed mess of something that once might have resembled a human, held together in some liquefaction containment barrel.

He was very pleased to discover that Frank was in... alright-enough condition. Sure, he had lost most of his hair, and seemed much more dazed, distant, and despaired, and was growing muscle at a rapid pace, so much so that his clothes had torn, but he was still recognizably himself. He was asleep, knocked out by no shortage of chemicals pumped into his rapidly changing bloodstream, lines of drool drawing forth from his opened mouth. He had soft lips, a golden complexion even as his form altered, and a severe case of overgrown beef.

I can work with this.

After the soldiers had set him up in a specialized, currently oversized, bed complete with a number of straps, gadgets, and devices all meant to restrain his movement in case he woke up and felt that super mutant rage become him, Seth allowed himself a moment to walk around him. The bed was thirteen feet long and reinforced to withstand a few tons of weight. Frank was contained with the most 'normal' size of restraints, his sleeping form stopped from listlessness only by these containment apparatuses. 

"You are... fascinating," Seth stated as he circled the once-great man. His muscles were growing at a constant rate. The quiet of the laboratory was broken by the occasional stretching, protesting, and eventual ripping of what remained of Frank's service uniform, the tatters falling helplessly to the ground. 

"And so very... large."

Seth's eyes drew themselves to Frank's chest: his pecs were absurdly large, even for a man known for his musculature. From the angle one could take by staring upwards from his feet, Frank's pecs blocked most of his face,  and from a more top-down angle looking below from Frank's head, his pecs entirely blocked the view of his chest, only the tops of his feet visible. His abs were a strange thing, seemingly undecided as to whether they'd remain abs, form a gut, or burst out entirely. Seth placed a gentle hand to them, feeling that growing power within them, his gaze drawn to Frank's crotch. This was a rather... strange area. FEV had a tendency to render its victims sterile, completely smooth and deprived of all primary, and for females, secondary sex characteristics. This had not seemed to take effect yet in Frank, his bulge was still princely, though, seemingly at risk of vanishing if one did not act quickly.

Moving to the computer terminal, Seth made a very simple request for his biochemical colleagues:

"URGENT: Find a way to prevent Frank's penis from being absorbed into the primary trunk of his body. I will require it's presence for complete neural rewiring, and it will serve Frank very nicely as a morale-reminder appendage."

Masturbation and edging. Seth knew very intuitively that the key to a man's mind was in his penis' tip, and that was no-less true for any man he had ever encountered. Considering Frank was a top priority for the Enclave, his colleagues got to work right away on figuring out a way to get the FEV not to render Frank sterile: they would, for the moment, inject his crotch with mutagen-suppressing aspects. The rest of him would grow, sure, but his eight inches would be left behind. For the moment, it was still perfectly acceptable and proportional, but as Frank grew, and grew, even eight inches would seem woefully insufficient. They'd figure out a way to let it safely grow with the rest of him later, but for now, its preservation was key.

Weaning him off the hypnotics, but not his sedatives, Seth waited for a few minutes as Frank's eyes fluttered open, wiping the drool from his mouth with a cloth.

"Hey, Frank. I'm sorry we have to meet like this."

Frank stared at the Latin for a moment, a wistful cry emanating from his broad-barreled chest: "I fucked up, didn't I?"

"You did. I can't fix that, and I'm sorry, but I have to work on you now, Frank. FEV, what you were exposed to, it eats away at the mind, the brain, pretty soon you won't be anything more than some dumbass intent on murdering everyone you see. That serves us well when it's pointed at the stock on the mainland, but, we can't have you killing your friends and comrades. I'll keep what I can of your brain's software intact, even as its hardware changes in ways I can't predict."

The man on the bed nodded solemnly, rage inducing itself, only, directed solely at himself.

"I failed my president. I failed my country. I failed myself. And you still think I can be fixed?"

"Frank, you're one of our strongest members. If I were entirely honest, I'd say you are our strongest member. We are so very limited, as you know, at least at this branch: we will do everything in our power to stop this from... consuming you."

"Whatever it takes, doc. Whatever it takes. Shouldn't have trusted that railing..."

"Trust is a dangerous thing, Frank. It should be reserved for us, the Enclave," Seth stated in an attempt at levity.

It didn't land.

Frank rolled his eyes with all the sorrow of a man who knew he had every right in the world to be mocked, and no strength left to advocate for himself. 

Seth rummaged around for a little while in some back closet, not too far from Frank's bed, the sounds of fabric tattering away quickening. He heard some biochemist walk in, introduce himself with a shout from the primary room, and state his objective. Frank's despair at the prospect of losing his manhood gave the good doctor all the consent she needed to pull down what remained of his pants, his underwear, and jam a needle into his veiny penis. It hurt, of course it did, but his numbed his shaft for the barrage of chemicals about to introduce themselves to it. Once Seth had gotten back, he gave the kindly doctor a nod, and set upon Frank's ears some headphones.

"It'll help you focus while you sleep and dream, big guy. Dreams are a powerful thing: they gave our ancestors hope, and even now, they guide us on our mission to rebuild... everything. This will allow me to guide yours towards beauty, even as your body... well. Let's not think of it."

Solid idea, Frank agreed internally. With pressure on his temples, he felt warmth rush into his arms, and then... that was that.

"I've got to admit, Sharon, I didn't think I'd see a man's cock being... quite so heavily vaccinated."

Sharon Keisler, the biochemist Seth had known on a professional-enough level to be on a first-name basis with, could only chuckle at the absurdity of it all: "if my husband knew what I was capable of doing to a man's penis, he'd never argue with me again."

After some hours talking, and plotting things out for Frank, the two had come to a professional conclusion: Frank was fucked. Entirely, utterly, fucked. If they could manage to make him anything other than a complete monstrosity worthy of perdition, it'd be a win. They'd require entire chunks of the lab sectioned off, resources of an immense caliber dedicated to Frank. It all seemed much too much, and yet, the President himself had ordered it.

It seemed to be nothing short of madness. That's why Seth hadn't voted for President Richardson, he had voted for his opponent, but... one does not question the hierarchy of the Enclave if one wishes to survive. These thoughts plagued him over the few hours it took for him to record all the things he wished to record for Frank's subconscious to dream to, and once he loaded in the holotape to the player, Frank's mind was kissed, caressed, and nourished by words of encouragement, of arousal, of loyalty, of what to focus on holding dearly.

Memories of his family? Irrelevant.

Memories of serving the Enclave? Key priority.

Feelings of loyalty to anything other than his handler, Seth? Irrelevant.

Feelings of zealotry, aggression, and violence? Redirected appropriately.

Somewhere, deep in Frank's brain, his dreams were abstract and strange. He dreamed of hands reaching out and touching his body, groping his pecs, his cock kissed repeatedly as if every kiss softened an injection. He dreamed of his ass being fondled, his body repositioned every-so-often for something more than just preventing bedsores. He dreamed of sentences repeated infinitely, his mind grasping onto them for dear sanity and life, even as the virus began its truest assault on his body, growing it, morphing it, altering it in ways much too obscene for anything. He swore, a few times over his first night, that he nearly awoke, drenched in sweat, feeling strange pressure in his balls, in his pecs, his neck thickening, mind dampening from more than just Seth's guidance.

It was all, he was assured in strange sentences he never remembered hearing, a dream. He would awaken soon enough, all in good time.

Wiping the sweat from his lips, Seth chuckled grimly to himself. While he was being paid and ordered to fix Frank's mind, no one ever forbade him from enjoying Frank's body, and he intended to do a lot of that as Frank's urgent case had seen him kicked off from quite a few projects he was really hoping to make further progress on. He knew whoever took the projects after him would not share his same ideas of how to properly mold a mind, they'd probably rely on technology and not neurology. This was simple payment. FEV could not be spread through sexual fluids, after all, FEV rendered people sterile, and so as Seth took a moment to run his tongue over his lips, savoring the taste of Frank's tip and cum, he could only begin to imagine all the fun they were going to have, even as he had his own ulterior motives in Frank's mind.

Sure, Frank would be loyal to the Enclave, but, only so long as Seth was... but Seth was a good, patriotic, man. So long as the Enclave never questioned why he did what he did, as long as they trusted that he acted for the best interests of the United States, everything would be fine. Tomorrow would be a new day with new experiments, and as Seth turned off the lights to his lab, he left Frank with all the time in the world to listen, to obey, to become something new, something docile.

Chapter Text

Seth’s morning routine was simple. He’d get up out of bed, after jerking off first considering he always had morning wood he preferred to attend to, mosey on over to the bathroom, and do his daily business. He’d brush his teeth, shower, and get ready to greet the day as he always did. He’d often skip breakfast, but he would sometimes go for just a cup of coffee, and today was one of those days. He took his coffee sweet, with plenty of milk and sugar. It was an altogether banal, nearly boring, routine. Most of his daily excitement came from his work assignments, and today was certainly no different. He thought, for a moment, of Frank’s sleeping body, of his mind, and where it all goes when we lose ourselves to death’s cousin.

Seth’s dreams were, for the most part, entirely unremarkable. If he had dreamed, he didn’t remember it. It was no matter, at any rate: he had enough on his conscious mind to keep him more than fully invested in his latest project. He had some good times with Frank yesterday, even with the less-than-ideal circumstances of their meeting, while the giant slept. It was his way of easing Frank into his brand-new life, and quite frankly, he wanted Frank to have something resembling an action that could see him off into some pleasant dreams. His life, he knew very well, was about to become a living hell as the FEV mutated his body, ravaged his organs, and destroyed his mind. Seth was quite certain that there was no way to keep Frank’s mind stable, much less in existence, not if the FEV was allowed to continue its course. He hoped some of his biochemical colleagues had worked through the night, but Frank wasn’t yet at that critical point where his mind was unsalvageable. Frank had never been a particularly bright man, sure, his intelligence had always been more practical: but that was still a level of intelligence the FEV would put far, far out of his reach if it burned through him unattended. 

Seth’s excitement when he got to the laboratory was dampened by the vague idea that Frank might be nothing more than a pool of viscera on the ground by the time he arrived. Luckily, that was not the case. Frank had grown a foot over night, seemingly gained another fifty pounds of muscle, and he seemed… in-between. His skin was no longer its original tone, drawn down from the all-American painfully white it once was to something… cartoonishly green. If he were a cartoon character, he’d be the sickest one around, and yet, this was reality for Seth, for Frank. Frank was still passed out, though, clearly, he had not had the best rest possible. His eyes were darkened, baggy, his body completely hairless, thick pools of drool on his pecs, dribbling down his chin, spreading on the floor. His clothes had nearly completely torn off, the only remnants being what the straps could have held in place, of which, most of which were nearly broken too. It took a few minutes, but the next layer of straps and restraints were administered, more properly holding Frank’s body in place. His cock, now fully exposed at all times, was still its usual eight inches, closer to his original skin tone than the rest of his body. 

“Sweet Jesus, Frank…”

Seth moved to wean Frank off his hypnotics again, but made sure to double his sedative dosage.

“Hey, hey there, big guy. You still… you?”

Genuine concern bled through Seth’s voice. It had been more-than-clear that Frank was on the precipice of his humanity, the very edge of what he once was, and never again will be.

“Can’t… really, uh,” Frank began, before trailing off. His eyes fixed on something in the distance that didn’t exist, and never would. “I can’t- you know. Thinking’s… hard. Weird… dreams. Very. Ah, you… mmh, body’s weird.”

Body’s weird.

“No doubt your body is running at a pretty damn high temperature, trying to fight off the FEV. Here,” Seth stated before rummaging around a drawer for an antipyretic, tripling its recommended dose to try and see if that would have any effect given Frank’s immense stature, “try this. You’re… real big now, so, I may have to double even this.”

Frank swallowed the dry, bitter pills without contest. His fever didn’t inch very much, but then, the very placebic suggestion of it helped him focus enough. Frank was always very good at respecting, at obeying, authority: and right now, after eight hours of Seth’s voice and suggestions in his mind, none were greater in his abstracted mind than the good psychologist.

“Better. Just… weird dreams. Kept feeling my body being… touched. Warm. Changing. Dreamt I was getting real bigger, way bigger, and someone kept touching my muscles and making them feel… good. I, uh, had a wet dream, I think. Guess FEV makes your whole body real hot, right?”

He didn’t know anything about FEV. Neither did Seth, beyond the basics he gleaned from an informational dump from Dr. Keisler.

“Yeah. Your whole body’s trying to fight off the virus, so, I suppose it makes sense that all that effort and exertion, and your muscles literally growing, might be… pleasurable. Your brain has to convert all those sensations into something just so it doesn’t break under all the stimulation, so I guess it chose pleasure. Makes sense: you’re a soldier, an agent. You worked out and lifted tanks for fun to get as beefy as you did, and now, the FEV’s making you even… freakier.”

“Freakier?”

Frank looked down at his body, tinged a deep shade of green, panic suppressed only by the sedatives he had been dosed with, and the tapes suggestion that he was changing, and that was okay, because he would be stronger, and stronger agents are better agents.

“Huh.”

Seth went up to Frank, finally removing the headphones from his head. With a press of a button, the bed tilted upwards, placing Frank at a full 90 degree angle, as if he were standing on his own feet. The restraints groaned in protest, but held. Seth pretended not to be incredibly turned on by the way Frank’s pecs bounced as he adjusted himself.

“You’re… not even done growing. Honestly, none of us know how big you’ll get. All we know is that, when it’s all done… well, hey, we’ll be here for you.” 

Seth reached out, his hand caressing Frank’s.

“I worked on something last night, when I was back in my dorm. It took a while, but, I think you’ll like it, just hang tight here for me, okay?”

“No choice but to,” Frank stated with a strange emptiness to his words. They felt natural, completely correct, and yet… not his. Not yet, at least. But a soldier often said and did things not his own, but the will of his superiors. To the dying mind of Mr. Horrigan, this was no different.

After what had seemed to be fifteen minutes, Frank snapped back to reality as Seth began to speak. Frank wasn’t sure where he had gone in the fifteen minutes between the smaller male’s leaving and return: he didn’t really feel like he went anywhere at all, but he couldn't account for the time passing. He didn’t feel as if anything had happened, in fact, he could only recall just… staring. Emptily. Because there was nothing in his mind, there was nothing to tie him to time. Seth’s words had helped throughout the night, and even now they still circled around his mind and pushed out all other thoughts, just as Seth said they would over the tapes, but everything felt much weirder. He could only really focus on the vague sensation of a changing body, the weight of his body increasing, which just like the tapes said, dragged his mind down and made it all so much simpler. He liked simple things. It’s why he loved his power armor, his guns: you simply got in and removed whatever needed removing. No need to think too hard. He didn’t like thinking, not anymore, it all felt as if it took a disproportional amount of energy.

He lost himself in his thoughts for a moment, and then looked around. He felt something on his head, as if he were wearing some sort of cap, and it seemed the younger, smaller Latino had wheeled a television set in front of him, before loading in something. Seth’s explanations went in one ear and out the other, something about ‘stimulating the visual cortex’ and ‘aligning internal identity and morality with visual stimuli by means of…’ something. Something about stimulating something, maybe? He didn’t know. He could only stare at the images before him, and felt… warmth envelop a part of him. He looked down, realizing that Seth was stroking his cock, his… cock? No, yeah, it was his cock. Frank couldn’t really register anything from it though: normally it’d feel good, but now it just felt warm. 

Was that worth worrying about? Maybe. But Frank couldn’t really fashion the energy to. Seth had told him to stare ahead, and he obeyed, even if now that he attempted to give thought to it, he couldn’t remember that exact order.

The images were pretty, at least. Captivating. Words on a spiral, but none of them really made sense to Frank. He knew what they meant, sure, but they just felt… obvious. ‘Obey,’ ‘serve,’ ‘fight,’ ‘aggressive,’ ‘docile,’ ‘milk,’ ‘edge,’ most of those he already did as a soldier, and the last two he had no context for besides what Seth seemed to be… oh! Seth’s trying to talk to him, but he just can’t take his eyes from the spiral, and, well, his words are reaching his ears…

It’s fine. Don’t give it any thought, Frank, your brain is getting what it needs to get.

He didn’t know how long this had gone on for, only that Seth seemed satisfied with the way things were going. He hadn’t cum, or, he hadn’t felt as if he had cum, and Seth wasn’t covered in white stuff, but then, Frank couldn’t see Seth. His mouth was dropped fully open, his eyes glued to the screen, something warm enveloping his skull from time to time. He knew that everything on the television was absolutely correct, and he was grateful that Seth had taken time out of his day to work on a slideshow for him. That’s what he knew this was: a slideshow of who Frank was, what he needed to cling to when the FEV threatened to erode him.

He was strong.

He was a soldier.

He was loyal.

He was obedient.

He was docile.

He had no free will.

He had no desire to leave.

He had no desire to report Seth.

He had no desire to resist any orders given to him by Seth.

He loved Seth.

He desired Seth.

He craved Seth.

He obsessed over Seth.

He needed Seth’s words, his guidance, his truth, his… everything. 

Everything was perfectly obvious and was in no way anything to give critical thought to. He gained another thirty pounds in the time it took him to stare at the slideshow, the spiral, and realize it all. He gained six inches in height. Seth said something to him, and his subconscious registered it: Seth will be back in thirty minutes, but he only recalled that now that it had been, perhaps, twenty minutes.

Ten minutes went by, and Seth returned with some nameless scientist. Frank felt something hot inject itself into his veins once again, this time, all over his body. His neck, his arms, his penis, his legs. He felt hot, insatiably hot, but then… calm. Dreadfully calm. Parts of his mind snapped back into something resembling a fraction of what they originally were, he felt much more clear in his assertions. He noticed the spiral was turned off by Seth when he entered with the other scientist, and that felt perfectly natural. Anything and everything Seth did was correct. He did not dare question his handler, after all, good soldiers follow orders.

Another six minutes pass, and the injections finally stop. He feels the bed set itself back into its original, horizontal place. His body tinged an even deeper shade of green, his eyes bloodshot to the point of iris occlusion and obscuring, his muscles growing even larger, his frame contorting itself. Nothing felt painful. Everything simply felt like pressure. Pressure, unyielding, unending, and unbending. 

If he had humanity, he might scream out for help. He felt strange emotions, all of them buried by a chemical cocktail designed to keep him very, very docile. His genetic sequences were all being re-formatted, edited, his penis, like the rest of his body, finally changing. It felt bigger, heavier, his balls matching the increase in size and heft. 

Seth checked the time on the wall. He had begun to work on Frank at seven-fifty-two in the morning. It was now noon, time for lunch: he'd bring something back for Frank, after all, the giant needed some fuel for his growing, transforming, body.

Somewhere, in the deepest recesses of his mind, he gathered enough strength to ask a simple question that would never receive an answer: what’s happening to me?

Chapter Text

“No mayo on mine, thanks.”

Seth always took the same burger. He wanted his well-done, with lettuce, tomato, no pickles, no mayonnaise, no mustard, and ketchup. He’d sometimes smoosh some potato chips, whenever they were in supply, to add a little extra crunch to his lunch meal. It always bothered Seth when someone put something he didn’t like on his burger. 

“For his? Yeah. Mayo.”

He didn’t know if Frank liked mayonnaise or not. Frank was in no mental condition to tell him his lunch-time preference, and so, he simply made that choice for him. He felt he’d have to do that a lot. He took two helping for Frank, plus two cups of soda just for the burgeoning behemoth. 

His walk back to his laboratory was the same as it always was: it took him by a railing that exposed him to the ocean. He enjoyed the smell of salt, the sound of the waves, the occasional gasp of what little aerial wildlife remained after the great devastation that occurred so very long ago. It gave him hope for their mission, for the concept of the United States rising from the ashes.

Once he entered back into his laboratory, he saw Frank simply staring at nothing in particular again. His body was even bigger than it was before, but then, that was normal. It wasn’t quite as big as he thought it would have been, thanks to the stabilizing biochemical boost Frank received from Seth’s dear colleagues. 

“I brought you some food. Two burgers, two cups of soda. Thought you might need more than the average person.”

Frank looked at him, really looked at him, for a brief moment. Then, his eyes shifted their focus to something else.

“Thanks.”

Seth set the food down, then reset the bed to have Frank standing again. He undid the restraints for one of his arms, letting him take the burger for himself, watching as he ate it. He took a large bite, chewed it thoroughly, and seemed to have a load taken off of him. It was something simple, a creature comfort, a reminder of his all-American upbringing. The grease that met his tongue as he bit into the slightly-overcooked burger reminded him of a simpler time, a better time.

He continued to eat it, interlacing gulps from his drink whenever he could. It didn’t take him very long to make the burgers and cokes disappear entirely: he still seemed hungry, despite that, but a soldier knew better than to complain of his rations, in either their quantity or quality. 

He once did, of course, soldiers banter like that. But he was better now. A higher quality sort of man.

He ignored the growing rebellion in his body, the way the chemicals he was injected with fought so very valiantly against the inevitable.

He watched as Seth ate his own burger. He noted their differences. Seth was careful as he ate. He took medium-sized bites, chewing very thoroughly, never mixing food and drink at the same time. He seemed to regularly alternate between burger, fry, and drink. Nothing about Seth, he knew, was risky. That’s why he had to protect him with all his might.

He ignored the strange impulses in his mind that spoke of rage, of unspeakable violence, of flexing his might for all to see. It was very easy: the impulses faded as soon as they arose, as did most of his thoughts as of late, however many were actually still ‘his.’ Between the FEV and Seth, Frank’s brain was not his own.

“Did you ever want a wife before all of this, Frank?”

Seth’s question caught the giant off-guard, who turned to face him. The smallest hint of grease remained on Seth’s lip for a moment before he dabbed it away, crumbling the wrapper and discarding it without a second thought.

“Mm… wife? I’m a career man.”

Thoughts flowed easier to him now, even as a losing battle was raging.

“Was, at least. I wanted to have a family, a son, someone else to carry on the Horrigan legacy.”

He saw a vision, an impression, a fantasy of what would never be in his mind. He mourned it.

“There might still be time, Frank. I’m sure we could… find a way to make that happen. At the very least, we could engineer you a son.”

Frank chuckled at that, shaking his head as Seth moved up and towards him, re-doing his arm restraint. Something irritated him about that.

“Don’t want a kid unless it’s done the natural way. ‘Course, with me now being… something new, don’t think there’s much chance of that. But you’re nice to offer that. Just imagine the look on the lab boys’ faces…”

He trailed off for a moment, an impulse striking deeply at his sense of self: this was wrong. He didn’t need to be thinking of a wife, or a family, no, he should think only of duty, of honor, of courage, of Seth.

“Now-a-days, I don’t think about my family. Too busy thinking about… this.”

He moved his head about so as to indicate ‘the freakish mutant I’m transforming into.’

“Frank, it’s all very understandable. You’re grieving the future that’s being ripped from you, but, I had a chance to catch up with Dr. Keisler. She’s the head of the chemical part of your body, the part that, I admit, doesn’t interest me: the corporeal. You’re beefy as fuck, and that’s great, you are the ideal soldier, the pinnacle of physical perfection. But… your mind is what I have the most interest in. It’s what I can fix, what I can keep from going to, well, wherever it is a super mutant’s mind goes. You’ve fought them before, haven’t you? They’re not the brightest around.”

Frank thought for a moment, only a moment. Something slipped, and a pleasant fog rolled over him. Something in his posture must have shifted, which indicated the change in his internal world to Seth.

“You do that a lot now, Frank. Your body is so very tired, so very taxed, and you’ll just flip off a switch that turns your brain’s thinking ability to a much, much lower priority. It’s cute.”

The lesser male stood up, and walked over to Frank. He stood an impressive nine-foot-three, and weighed probably somewhere in the neighborhood of five-hundred pounds of pure muscle. His stomach had settled on being some sort of mixture between abs and a gut: rounded like a gut, but still containing the ridges of abs, as if he were a professional strongman. His pecs were even larger than before, but more rounded, softer. His legs were true tree trunks, his arms equivalently thick, his neck and traps immense in their size, though his head’s size remained fairly proportional to his body, at least for the moment.

How Frank had endured growing this much so fast without shattering his bones into a million pieces was a piece of medical science Seth had neither the faintest inclination towards understanding, he was merely glad for its effect.

Seth took a good gander at Frank, looking up and down his completely naked, exposed body.

“We’re trying hard to keep your cock in existence, you know.”

Frank’s sudden turn of head to Seth was hilarious.

“I know you overheard me talking about it, after all, the FEV should make you completely sterile. It should make your cock wrap back up into your body. But, I couldn’t let that happen to you, Frank. And I won’t. I’ve had some of my friends in biochem work very hard on a way to keep your cock… around. And, well, we found a way to marry the FEV to it: now, ah, sadly you still will lose functional sperm, but, hey! You keep the plumbing.”

“Thanks,” Franks said. He didn’t know what else to say. He feared losing it, and, well, now he’s not. That’s good. He can trust Seth.

“But, of course, it has to be stimulated. Worked. You know, it’s on a ‘use it or lose it’ system for now. The more we keep it engaged, the more your body prioritizes keeping it around, increasing its size. When you first got here, it was a solid eight inches. Now? Ten. Your balls are like, double their size too.”

Seth reached out, and grabbed Frank’s shaft. He pumped it slowly, kissing Frank’s stomach.

“Girthier, too. Thicker. You don’t mind if I do this, right?”

Frank moaned. This felt good. Not the actual physical sensations, no, those still felt like nothing more than pressure, but, knowing that he was desired? That someone was thinking about his wants, his needs, his desires? That felt very good.

“Yeah. I, uh, mean no. No, I don’t mind. Do it. Keep, uh, doin’ it.”

“Good choice, Frank. I like doing this.”

“I like you doing it.”

Harmony. Synthesis. The very core essential of Seth’s work, made manifest. He quickened his pumps, letting some saliva dribble down onto Frank’s cock.

“You’re a good boy, Frank. A good soldier. A good agent. A good… well, everything. You didn’t fail. You just weren’t used correctly, to your full potential.”

Stroke his cock, stroke his ego, control his soul. Seth continued his pumping of Frank’s cock, feeling the immense size, the pressure, the gravity of it. As Frank’s balls began to jump, to bounce, to signal his imminent orgasm… Seth let go. He gave Frank a departing kiss to his chest, then turned the spiral back on, which was now Frank’s favorite TV show, and placed his headphones back on him. He set a timer for one hour, and began to draft a report on Frank’s mind. It was now nearing three in the afternoon, and Seth had a few other things to do to Frank today. He began to think towards tomorrow’s goals, as distant as those were, as close as they felt.

Thirty, then forty-five, then sixty, then one-hundred-and-twenty minutes passed. He paused from his writing every-so-often to edge Frank, to keep him happy, content, sexualized. His body grew another thirty pounds of muscle, another three inches of height. His drool seemed to have drained his body of all its moisture by its sheer volume, and Seth was more than happy to keep feeding Frank water. He’d take a cup, hold it up to Frank’s lips, stepping on a chair to do so, and simply command him to drink, and the giant would. His eyes were glassy, unfocused, dazed, completely attractive to Seth.

He was beautiful like this, and it was all for the greatest good.

At five-o-clock, the work day for most had ended. Frank’s brainwashing session, too, had come to an end: Seth put the TV away, and took the headphones off the green man.

“Frank?”

“Yeah?”

“Drop.”

“Nnh-ohhkhay.”

“Awaken.”

“Yes?”

“You did well.”

“Thanks.”

“And so polite!”

“I respect my superiors.”

Seth moved over to Frank, admiring his still-erect penis.

“We’re going to take some measurements tomorrow for you. We’ll get you some clothing, at least, something that might, potentially, be able to stretch with you as you grow. We’re not quite sure of what material, if anything we even have, would be able to, so we’re discussing a few different options… but, for now? You’ll have to keep going, ah, as nature intended.”

He gave Frank a pat on his chest, noticing how Frank seemed to glare at him for a brief moment, before his gaze reverted back to a harmless daze.

“They’re making big break-throughs on you. FEV-injected rats, with their new breakthrough, don’t significantly grow for ten minutes with their newest serum. Things are moving fast here, Frank, very fast, and all because you’re so worthy of it all. You’re so good, Frank, so very good. I want to give you a reward, while I still can, at least…”

Moving to the door to his laboratory, Seth locked it. He stripped himself down completely, and moved back to Frank, the bed set back into its prone position.

“If I release your restraints, will you obey?”

“Always.”

It was risky, after all, but Frank had shown no signs of FEV aggression yet. Seth chose to ignore that glare earlier, it was probably just from him touching a literal sore spot as Frank’s flesh molded itself into something horrific.

He let out a breath of air he didn’t even realize he had held, and undid Frank’s restraints, one by one. Soon, the giant sat up on the bed, and stood up on his own. His legs felt odd, weaker than ever, even as he was at the pinnacle of superhuman strength. He felt as if he might collapse at any moment, and yet, he knew he wouldn’t.

“Turn around, Frank. Bend over.”

Frank did as he was commanded. Good soldiers follow orders. He felt a twinge of something.

“This might feel weird, but, you know, you don’t need this function anymore. Your body now processes things at one-hundred percent efficiency, or, something like that. You breathe out any waste you make, and even then, your body uses every last bit so that waste doesn’t really exist for you.”

Seth sat down on a chair, gripped Frank’s giant, hideously sweaty, incredibly mind-meltingly musky, green ass, and moved his face in. He kissed Frank’s cheeks, moving inwards, and then began to lap at Frank’s hole. The giant shuddered, and felt, for the first time since he had arrived here, truly pleasant. This was no mere pressure, no, this was true, honest to god, pleasure.

A brief memory in his subconscious from his favorite show: he only feels pleasure now if Seth initiates contact, if he follows an order. Frank felt so odd. He felt so very good, so very right and natural, but at the same time, he felt his mind be clouded by something. Indignation? Fury? Rage? He felt something very deep whenever Seth slapped his ass. This was, in some way, to some past version of him, intimately, deeply, wrong. But that was all in the past, and his mental conditioning exceeded his body’s for the moment: he will obey. Harming Seth is inconceivable. Being angry at him? Impossible.

“N-nnghh, Seth…”

Seth’s tongue worked itself deeper into Frank’s hole, penetrating it, the tight sphincter twitching in response, Horrigan’s legs shuttering. He felt something akin to love as Seth gripped and wobbled his ass as he ate him out, bliss containing the rage he felt at the humiliation of it all, as his past self shrieked and fought and sobbed inside him.

He felt Seth get up, something poking at his hole.

“I love you, Frank. I want you to feel very, very good for me. I don’t know what will happen to you as the FEV continues its rampage, but you'll feel good around me, with me, for me.”

Something in him relaxed, something in him tightened. He felt Seth’s tip work his sphincter, slowly, with a thrust, and a very, very cute moan from Seth as Frank’s impossibly tight ass enveloped his length. Seth had been, and is, smaller than Frank: Frank’s original eight-point-six dwarfed Seth’s seven-point-three, and while Seth had the slight advantage at six inches of girth, as compared to Frank’s five-and-three-quarters, Frank’s FEV growth had ensured he reigned supreme in both.

“DearFUCKyou’resotight,” Seth exasperatedly moaned out in a single fell breath.

“Anything for you,” the monster said through grit teeth.

Seth’s thrusts were necessarily slow. He was going in with only the lube from Frank’s body sweat and his own eating of that giant, musky, green swamp ass. He already felt as if he would cum, Frank was just that tight, and the pleasure of dominating a man so large, who should be so very in-charge, was all simply sublime. For now, though, he held. He pulled out completely, before pushing back in slowly, then repeating the process a few times: from tip-out to balls-deep. 

“So good, so fucking good…”

Frank felt good. He felt very good. His body, however, felt… conditioned. Contained. His mind said he felt good, so he felt good. His programming demanded obedience, and he would obey.

Seth pulled out again entirely, moving the chair out from beside him, and collapsed to his knees. He sloppily licked Frank’s shaft, from balls to tip, and fingered his hole. One finger, then two, the three, doing his best to return the pleasure the immense giant gave him. Frank moaned, groaned, he felt alive in every conceivable sense.

Rage, love, lust… all of it on fire deep within him.

The sounds Seth made were absurd in their grossness. Squealches, gags, sloppy schlicks and sclurrrrps, the sounds of sex, of primordial humanity. He took deep sniffs, relishing Frank’s uniquely masculine scent, happy to get drunk on it. 

Once Frank’s balls began their tell-tale bounce, Seth stood up, and moved to Frank’s front. His face was a mixture of love, enamoration, and dazed confusion.

“Suck, Frank.”

Frank opened his mouth, and Seth took the opportunity to force himself in, balls deep. Frank’s giant mouth, and large throat, easily accommodated his length, and as Seth thrust so fast his balls slapped against Frank’s chin, the giant made his own lurid sounds. 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuuuuuuuck,” Seth panted out. It had only been seven minutes, and already, he felt as if he would cum away his entire capacity to breed.

He pulled out just before he was going to cum, to cross that most beautiful of thresholds. He hurried back to Frank’s back, and in one fell swoop, shoved himself in. He lost himself in the bliss, his balls clenching, shooting his load deep into Frank’s body.

“Take it, take it all, good boy, good soldier…”

Frank didn’t cum. Frank only felt Seth enter, leave his genetics inside him, and his mind clamped down harder than ever on his body: this was good. This was normal. This is natural. This is what he was meant to do, all along.

He smiled, his mind blanking out everything in him to avert the dying rage of his dying old self.

“Nnhggghhh… thank you, Seth.”

Just as soon as Seth had pulled out, kissed both of Frank’s cheeks, then moved around to kiss Frank’s lips, Frank forgot about the encounter. He still felt his sperm, his cum, swimming inside of his stomach, but he couldn’t place why, exactly, he felt so enraged, or at least, would have felt enraged if he could feel anything at all. The only thing he could remember was a strange period of time he had no recollection of after a few snaps and words from Seth.

“Duy Foxtrot-Sierra-Alpha, Romeo Romeo-Juliet.”

He and Seth, in his mind, did not have sex, it was a fantasy he had, a deepening of his craving to submit more fully to Seth, to be wholly, entirely, unforgettably his. That which swam in his stomach was foreign, simply a side-effect of the FEV making him stronger.

The mind obeyed. The body tensed.

“Well, Frank, you’re doing very well. You’re surpassing all expectations of mental and physical stability. Tomorrow, we’ll get you fitted for some special clothing.”

He strapped Frank back into his bed, making sure to also strap the larger restraints, anticipating his overnight growth. He set the headphones back on Frank, kissed his cheek, then his pecs, then his navel, then his shaft, then his tip, and licked from tip to balls.

“Goodnight, Frank. Dream well.”

The lights shut off, and Frank was alone with Seth’s voice, and a building rage.

Chapter Text

Seth had another dreamless sleep. He always felt so odd about these nights, as on the one hand, it was nice to get into the next day immediately, on the other hand, there were times he greatly wished to be able to feel the length of time that he was asleep for, savoring every moment of rest. Luckily, these last few days had been anything but a source of kindling to fuel a desire for the latter: Frank Horrigan took up most of Seth’s attention, effort, and mental space. He had fallen in something resembling love with the beast. He was, after all, just so damn large, and so very obedient. He was the ideal soldier, the ideal American; he had nothing in him but love of country, soon to be entirely replaced with just love of his handler, and a biological imperative to do nothing but grow.

That growth, however, was proving to be inconvenient. By Seth’s estimate, Frank now weighed eight hundred pounds of pure beef, and was on the order of an even ten feet tall. Most super mutants would have ceased their growth here, but Frank was a tall and imposing man before the FEV took hold of him, in truth, he seemed to be the ideal candidate for becoming a Behemoth. Primarily, time and exposure were what made a mutant into a behemoth, and Frank had neither of those on his side. He had only been infected with the FEV for four days, and while he had a pretty large initial dosage, he certainly didn’t have the gigatons of FEV in his bloodstream any behemoth would have. He, also, was being engineered by the Enclave for the purposes of being able to still be of use. Chemical cocktails injected into him aimed to slow the FEV’s mutagenic rate down, to ‘teach’ the virus what a human body should more or less look like, to keep things in a general proportionality and to save Frank’s brain from the very worst effects of things. Yesterday had been a good day for Frank, the day having allowed him to remain mostly lucent in his intelligence, but the third day of Seth’s control, and fourth of his transformation over all, would prove to be something of a challenge. If Seth were not careful, if Dr. Keisler’s efforts faltered, Frank may very well lose all of his humanity in such a way that did not benefit anyone. That, he knew, should never be allowed to come to pass.

Upon entering his laboratory, he noticed Frank in something resembling a peaceful state. His eyes were closed, headphones still secured around his ears, a dim smile on his face as his cock reached towards the sky. He had taken the liberty of adding in a few more erotically intense messages for Frank’s psychic driving program, and they had clearly paid off. Frank had just listened to eight hours of how much he was a slut for Seth, how much his body craved Seth’s touch, his cum, his worship. Frank was being taught all the virtues of bottoming, of using his giant ass instead of his monstrous cock, which by now had reached fourteen inches in length, his balls the size of basketballs.

“There we are, big guy. So good, so very good…”

Seth approached Frank and placed a gentle hand on his arm, adjusting the restraints. His earlier estimations were correct, Frank was now a fully grown super mutant, but he still seemed to be growing. Would he end up as a behemoth? He hoped not, not for wanting to constrain Frank’s potential, but for the logistical possibilities that would create. He let Frank dream a little while more, guided by the sound of his voice, as he sketched out the day’s events in his mind. He took a measuring tape to Frank’s body, writing down what he could, sending it off on his terminal to the uniform department… who promptly all began to hate Seth very much for the impossible order he had just put in for them. With a message to Dr. Keisler, he requested an update on Frank’s mutagenic-stabilization serum. He had been advised that this serum would not be a single injection panacea, instead, it would require continual injections, constant drip-feeds into his veins, something best administered through some packs melded into his flesh. Seth’s superiors had told him that they may require the use of technology to stabilize Frank’s body and mind, and while Seth was confident he could control Frank’s mind with only hypnotic techniques, he became assured that he may very well have to relent on some facets and allow Frank to be turned into a cyborg of some extent.

He didn’t exactly relish the thought of contaminating Frank’s (imperfect) biology with machinery, but the need was clear and evident. It would help keep him from becoming the size of a room, and the shape of it too, so all was well in Seth’s mind.

After what seemed to have felt like a good long while writing reports, and idly rubbing his own bulge through his pants, Seth glanced at the clock. It was now ten in the morning, and Frank was now awake. The Latino hadn’t exactly grasped when, exactly, Frank had awoken, only that he was now being started at with completely red eyes. It was an unfortunate effect of the FEV: as his body adjusted and adapted to the growing vascularity of it all, his eyes would be drenched in blood. It was an altogether unpleasant experience that robbed poor Horrigan of most of his eyesight, but he could still make out red-stained silhouettes and shapes with effort. 

Something in Frank’s expression, as unreadable as it had become, gave Seth the impression that the poor giant was wrestling with something deep inside himself. He noticed Frank’s fingers clench back towards his hand every now and again, the straining of his leather and metal restraints croaking outwards as a warning.

It would be fine. It had to be fine: Seth controlled his mind, and the body always obeyed the mind. 

He resolved to figure out why it was that the FEV even increased aggression at all in the first place, but for the moment, it would be sufficient, in his mind, to know that he controlled Frank’s mind. So long as that fact held true, he knew the body would obey. It had to. It’s the only thing that made sense to the Puerto Rican scientist.

“Hey there, big guy,” Seth started as he moved towards the behemoth restrained by hopes and prayers. He set his hand on the giant’s stomach, which now more closely resembled abs, and laid a gentle kiss on the giant’s arm. He felt it flex beneath him, as if recoiling, before it relaxed.

“Hey,” Frank slurred out, “feelin’ fine.”

Frank did not, in fact, feel fine. For some reason, he felt rage stirring within him. His heart pounded in his chest, he felt beads of sweat form on his head, and while he knew instinctively that Seth was no threat, that Seth was the best thing that ever happened to him, something in his body recoiled at the very notion. His flesh knew that Seth was a threat, was a manipulator, was only here to rape his mind in favor of the Enclave’s own ambitions and goals, and the greatest, most primal, hardest to break habit of biology is it’s own self-preservation. Frank’s self preservation, heightened by the FEV’s need to continue its mutagenic spree unabated, craved his absolute freedom. He craved the ability to change, to transform, to become without any inhibitions.

Seth stood in the way of that. Dr. Keisler stood in the way of that. 

He loved Seth. He tolerated Keisler.

He hated his containment.

He never noticed Seth take off his headphones. Some small part of him, probably, took notice that he no longer heard Seth’s voice droning on and on in his ears endlessly, his head was filled with an empty, and yet so very loud, static. He knew all the right things to say, all the things Seth wanted to hear, all the things he wanted to say with all his heart’s desire, and yet his rage felt endless. He struggled against his restraints for a brief moment, even as he consciously thought only of furthering his submission. 

He felt something get injected into him. His eyes darted to the man with sun-kissed skin.

“Hey now, it looks like you’re finally reaching the rage stage of FEV infection. That’s okay, this’ll fix your right up.”

It did not, in fact, fix him right up. He felt worse, actually. He struggled more against his chains. If he had more awareness, he would have noticed Seth’s eyes quickly scanning the restraints, his limbs, his rapidly changing corporeality.

“Calm,” Seth’s voice intoned.

“I am calm, Seth,” Frank chirped automatically. He said the right thing, he desired the right emotion, and yet, his flesh was tempted only by destruction.

He heard Seth utter something, a curse something, as his right arm felt a lot looser. His left arm soon followed, and his thrashing, which he only just now noticed, shook him into something resembling a void. He heard his favorite words, his trigger words, repeated. Seth realized, very quickly, that his only chance to survive another day was to run. His trigger words elucidated the correct verbal responses, and none of the proper physical ones. Horrigan heard feet scatter as the door to the lab slammed shut, with Seth nowhere to be found. 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,” Seth muttered under his breath as he ran. This made no sense to him, it broke his view of the world: when the mind gave orders, the body obeyed. Everything he had seen in Frank, to this point, confirmed that. What Seth had neglected, of course, was that the FEV infection would significantly complicate things. While Frank’s mind was indeed completely subdued and controlled by him, his body was not. He could manage it with syringes and chemicals, sure, but by Seth’s own admission, that didn’t interest him. He put too much of his faith in the mind, and as he heard his precious equipment break behind him, he knew he had to resort to noxious means. He’d inform Keisler of Frank’s breach, to flood the lab with the strongest aerosolized hypnotic and sedative drugs they had in stock, every last bit of anti-mutagenic agent was to be doused on every surface on the lab until Frank finally got himself back under control.

On Frank’s account, he felt fine. Completely, utterly, fine. He knew he was calm, even as his body screamed and screeched as a dying owl, raging as a bull in a fine china shop. He slammed things around for no other reason than to try, desperately, to feel something. His flesh acted on its own accord, his mind simply desiring to rest, to give in, to follow his handler’s orders.

This break within Frank, the great severance of his conscious and unconscious processes, had finally caught up to him. Now, as he punctured glass into his own flesh and slammed with his full force against the lab’s reinforced door, he could smell something sickly-sweet like almonds as his vision began to obscure itself, his rage intensifying into one final effort as he dented the great door to his freedom. He heard something far off in the distance, what was perhaps a klaxon, and a series of commands given to men he once fought alongside, men he once remembered.

The last thing Frank would ever recollect from this moment, before it was purged entirely, was the sunlight briefly entering his sight before the pink gas dragged him back towards oblivion.

Chapter Text

Seth was under no illusion about it, not any more. It had been, by this time, seventy-two hours since his lab was grievously, severely, damaged. It wounded his pride, his ego, his very notion that he knew everything there was to know about commanding flesh to obey.

He detested Frank for the damage to his lab as much as he detested himself for being so blinded by his own ego and thoughts as to his mastery of anything psychosomatic.

Once he was able to step back into his mostly repaired lab, he could see what little damage remained. There were some chairs, currently haphazardly stacked in a back corner, which he’d have to throw out; there were no shortage of papers which now sat in a ‘to-shred’ box, unceremoniously removed of any of the value of the data they once had on them; he saw where there was once a sink, and now, there was only some duct-tape and a ‘we’ll fix this soon’ assurance sign from janitorial. He pinched the bridge of his nose in pure disgust at what Frank had become, at what he had to authorize in light of this outburst. It pained him to do so, but he allowed Frank to be cybernetically enhanced. He had to admit defeat: his hypnosis, alone, was not enough to contain Frank. He needed internal injection modules to constantly pump a stabilizing anti-mutagen into him, he needed a brain-control chip to help reel in Frank’s mind, he needed cybernetic eyes to help him see better, and on, and on, and on the damnable list went. What was once purely organic, purely sacred in that way, was now ruined, and enhanced, by all those damned pieces of technology.

Seth hated it all so very much, and yet… he couldn’t deny the results. 

Frank looked peaceful as he rested on the re-built table. His body seemed to be mostly containing the cybernetic augmentations well, at least, as well as an FEV-scarred body could contain anything. He was clearly wincing in pain every-now-and-again, only for those grimaces to disappear as soon as they appeared thanks to a steady stream of pain medications in him. 

Seth moved to the side of the contained beast, rubbing his arm idly.

“You destroyed half my lab, Frank,” he muttered under his breath, “still, though, can’t be too mad… all that strength was raw. It had no guidance, no grand purpose to it. No wonder you lashed out,” he cooed.

He cocked his head from side to side, trying to work out some kink he felt in his neck, no-doubt caused by the sheer discomfort of seeing Frank’s augmented body.

“You’re supposed to rest like this for another three days. I would put my earphones on you, but, I don’t see any reason to. You responded correctly, at least psychologically, but biologically? I’ll have to trust in these machines adapting the ‘software’ I put in you. We’ll just have to wait and see about that, when you wake up.”

He rubbed the back of his neck a little, before resting his head on Frank’s pecs. He stole a quick lick of the giant’s nipples.

“Hah, sorry, couldn’t resist… mmh. You know, I hate this, Frank. You’re right where I want you, mostly how I want you, and yet… oh, this’ll be a long three days, won’t it?”

Seth took a few steps back, gazing at Frank. He was now, probably, locked into his current build. He was twelve-feet tall, his cock an impressive eighteen inches in length, and perhaps eight or nine in girth, his chest solidly mixed between abs and a gut, his pecs incalculably large… this was fine. Seth could work with this, even if sex had acquired logistical issues. He could control what was left of Frank, the only issue was, of course, that this was not his Frank. He hoped, desperately, that the programming he put into Frank’s mind would win out over whatever programming the Enclave put into his chip. He hadn’t the slightest clue on how to hack the chip to input his own commands in without slicing Frank’s neck open, a procedure for which he was woefully unprepared.

“Fuck it,” Seth stated as he slid the headphones back onto Frank, double-timing the speed at which his commands played. Frank’s eyes twitched a little, before resuming their slumber. This was familiar, this was comfortable.

“Let’s see how this goes with that…”

He shook his head and wandered back to his desk, finishing the details of his after-action report on Frank’s rampage. He owed Dr. Keisler a few canteen cards for her assistance in securing Frank so quickly, which he’d happily give her some day. For now, though, the work continued idly. 

When Frank finally woke back up, Seth was going to ensure, at all costs, his vision of Horrigan won out.

Chapter Text

Seth was tired.

Frank, if he could feel anything at all, would probably be something resembling tired as well.

It had been no less than two months of this absolute nonsense. Seth had been very eager to molest, grope, suck, and fuck the comatose Horrigan as much as he desired, which, if he were quite honest, was a lot. What he had grown tired of was simply Frank’s morose state. This, combined with Frank still needing the mother of all efforts to maintain his biology, made Seth irritably impatient with the whole affair.

That, however, was fine. It was not great, but it was fine. Seth had had his fill of Frank whenever he desired, and he had many, many more fun ways to grope and get his fun from Frank.

He had to admit: in the weeks since he last spoke to Frank, his mindset had shifted. He no longer saw the mutated body clinically, no, now it was just pure sex to him. He adored it: the size, the beef, the heft. Even now, standing in that room with an idle draft circulating about the air, he couldn’t help but grope at his own bulge. He had turned his AC off, just to get Frank to sweat, just so his super-mutant musk would fill the air, hitting his nose, stimulating his senses… it was all so perfect! 

With a lean down to Frank’s crotch, he took deep whiffs, letting the monstrously sized green shaft rest on his head, precum leaking idly as he stroked it with both hands, licking haphazardly at Frank’s balls. He backed up a little, and with one hand descending down his belly, unbuttoning his pants, and freeing his own length from his briefs, he stroked himself gently. He took his other hand to Frank’s hole, and as was so familiar by now, pushed to pry him open. Frank moaned a little, his body fully responsive: his mind was fully tamed, of course, the Enclave’s cybernetics and Seth’s own programming had made very deep progress on that front. He justified this to himself with the knowledge that the better Frank felt while he was out and under, the more likely it would be that Frank had no sense of the rage left within him.

And, speaking of that terrible rage, he had started to program in a solution. Frank would simply be unable to express rage, to express anything but the cheeriest, sluttiest morale possible for the Enclave, when he was not in combat against the enemies he’d be sicced upon. When he was let loose, when the enemies of the Enclave had made themselves apparent, he’d be a fierce killing machine: unable to do anything but express his rage. He had, for all practical purposes, created a ‘rage silo’ in Frank. It would store itself up naturally, saving itself for his combat routines, before being bled out as he fought. It was the perfect way to incentivize Frank’s continued combat prowess, and the perfect way to maintain his civil composure when he was expected to serve as more of a gentle dog, rather than a biting one, for his handlers.

Moving to try and lift Frank’s legs up, but realizing it was far too physically imposing a task to do so, Seth simply did what he normally did: shift them to the side, climb up on the bed-table, and start inserting his length in. Frank, no matter how often he was fucked, was always so wonderfully tight, so god-damned perfect as a fleshlight, that Seth almost weeped at the idea that Frank would be anything other an Enclave morale unit. He’d be the perfect sex toy: impossibly big ass, tits, cock, effortlessly musky, and with a near-infinite pool of stamina. It’d be easy to program him to have a few modes: slutty, piggy cock-addicted bottom, powerful, daddy-dom top, fishnets-wearing slutted-out sissy-stud, why, the possibilities were only limited by the time it’d take to force all that into his head! 

With every thrust, every point of Frank’s impossibly fat ass, Seth lost more and more of himself into Frank. He let his upper body collapse onto the huge green chest below him, licking with wild abandon the abs and pecs that awaited him. Frank’s nipples were easy little things to suck on, his tits fat enough to act with true neck support for any man lucky enough to pound him like this.

With quickened thrusts, Seth drew closer, and closer, to his orgasm. This was, to be truthful, the state of things: every day, Frank would have his medical needs examined. He’d get new injections of stabilizing drugs, he’d be briefly woken up to assess whatever was left in his head, and Seth would continue to fuck him like the toy he was. This was the new American man: nothing more than a fleshlight for his superiors, a cockdrunk himbo made by circumstances most fortunate for those who would use his body the way it was always meant to be enjoyed.

After a few minutes of pounding Frank, Seth came. His orgasm was as it always was: full-body, blissful, and stabilizing. He had concocted some half-baked theory that by injecting his own genes into Frank, the FEV would generally retain the ability to ‘know’ what was and was not a good form for a human to have. In truth, that was almost certainly not what was happening biochemically, but Seth had no care for that.

The only thing that mattered was Frank being a good little slut for him. If he were more reckless, he’d wake Frank up and let him go hog-wild on his cock, but, not yet: he still needed to be tamed, modifications still had to be done to his body. For now, though, he’d simply resolve to enjoy the hot, depraved, sweaty sex they’d enjoy. Frank had come to be very good at receiving it, his mind so wracked with the bliss he now drew from it that every dream he had was an erotic adventure with Seth, with his master, sucking his cock with his giant mouth, knowing that his monstrous body found new virtue, new sanctity, in serving Seth.

They would be happy this way. Frank would be the perfect soldier for the Enclave, the perfect slut for Seth, and Seth would be the perfect mind-fucker for the President. No one would ever have to know about their little secrets, after all, they were planning on purifying the world anyways: would there, really, be any harm in two all-American studs enjoying each other?

No, none at all. And that’s, precisely, why Seth could indulge this habit so freely, so patriotically.