A Series of Captures
By Limewah
Patron Reward for Sanmer (April 2023)
18+
Featuring characters from Biker Mice from Mars

Capture 1 - Rose Tint

I’m falling.
Still falling.
My body floats. I’m kneeling, but I feel like I’ve left the ground.
One hand rubs my cock. Precum dribbles down my fingers and my balls.
I’ve been stroking for a long time, and I’ve not cum yet. My dick drools.
My other hand daubs and smears pre on my fingers before it travels behind me. Spreading my cheeks aside to slip three lubed-up fingers into my pucker.
No one’s touched me back there, not even myself. I’d have never thought of doing it.
The thought was not my own anyway.
It was the spiral’s request.
I haven’t been able to take my eyes away from it, and I don’t even notice if I’ve been blinking or not.
The spiral takes almost all of my body awareness away from me, except for everything that’s happening between my legs…
The spiral curls around and around, the line thickening and shrinking like a coiled piece of red licorice. It swims back and forth and changes direction. The screen sometimes freezes or gets blurry, and words flash on the screen.
My mouth is drooling all. I feel sort of hungry. I haven’t eaten anything since…
I haven’t eaten anything since I put on the helmet. 
I remember the helmet’s weight. I notice the drool on my chin, and my tongue hanging out of my mouth. 
I’m s…stronger than this.
A stupid little device like this can’t hold me, won’t hold me…
I try to reach up with one hand - the one that’s not still glued to my hard dick - and clench my fist. I only remember that I’ve tried this already when the spiral suddenly gets brighter, spins faster, and I forget that I’ve tried it, and I forget the weight of the helmet, and I fall again. My hand goes back where it belongs.

I keep staring into the spiral. It’s changed direction again, I hadn’t even noticed, and my head slowly turns with it in very slow circles. I feel my neck muscles tense a little, then relax a lot. The relaxation trickles its way down my body, and I give in to it. I can’t think of any good reason why I should, and a very pretty reason why I should. 

Objectively, I know I’m in danger. That I’m stupid, and should have seen this coming. When I picked up what I thought was my usual motorcycle helmet, I was sort of aware that it felt different than usual. A little lighter. But I just threw it on my head without thinking. Then the clear screen was suddenly covered in a massive swirl, and my thoughts dropped through the floor. My arms dangled and my feet shuffled, and I didn’t even notice where I was going. Nor did I care.
There was just the pink and white swirl. I let the swirl envelop me, then I let it guide me.
And here I am, slave to the spiral. One hand glued to my crotch, the other fondling my ass and pushing a finger against my pucker.
Through the licorice colour spirals, I can see I’m in someplace white-walled and sterile. A testing chamber?

Someone is coming close to me. I feel body heat near me. Small hands.
They’re saying…
“Look at you, big guy! You look comfy.”
I want to resist, I want to fight back, but… I can’t. 
I feel like I’m not allowed to.
I want to say something, but all that comes out is a moan.
“Shhhh, no need to speak~ just relax. I’m just here to give you a little spa treatment, hehe…”
He snickers. I’m definitely not in on the joke.

Something cold and thick is dripping onto my shoulders and chest. It’s pouring and smearing it over me. My host presses his paws onto my shoulders and begins to rub. It dribbles down over my fur. He spreads it thinly over my chest, and it sticks to my fur and skin. It hardens and 
It feels… strange. Cosy, though… it settles into the grooves of my abs, pinches my hard nipples and pushes up my pecs. 
The figure massages my stroking hand, and I do the rest of the work on my cock and balls for him. The more I rub, the more sensitive and pleasurable my dick becomes… but also, I feel myself getting further and further away from a climax. 
All the more reason to keep stroking for him, to moan more loudly as his hands move behind me to do the same for the fingers I’m sliding inside myself.
The coating squeaks against my tailhole and I squeak - too distracted by the spiral to feel any embarrassment. 
It pushes deeper into me. 
I squeak even louder when he grabs my tail and gives it one long tug, covering it with more of the coating. 
The parts of me that are uncovered, still exposed to the air, feel chilly in comparison to the warmth and comfort of the coating. It continues to spread with a mind of its own.
The figure presses his hands to the back of the helmet. It clicks, and hisses, and slowly lifts. Not enough to keep me from looking into the pink spiral - I wouldn’t want that - but so the coating can continue up. Covering my lips like a kiss. Pushing into my ears, gurgling, mixing with the rushing roar of my blood.
I’m sealed off from everything, darkness surrounding me. The spiral curls along and keeps me from feeling any terror - only bliss.

I wonder why I was trying to resist. 
I forget.
I’ve long forgotten.
Resistance would be torture compared to this.
I look into the spirals again, and let the coating consume the rest of me.

“That’s the stuff,” I hear my Master say. “Don’t forget, drone, no cumming just yet! You’ve got a few jobs to do for me first…”
I’d like nothing better than to obey.
When my body moves, it moves without my control. No part of me resists any more. When I relax into it and allow myself to be puppeted, I feel ease and comfort like nothing I’ve ever felt before.

I…
Not I.
The drone.
The Drone is ready for its work to begin.
Two more Drones require capture.
Return to the Drone’s old base and capture.

Capture 2 - Throttled

I know this stranger’s trouble from the moment I catch him stalking through Quigley Field towards our hideout.
I thought he might have been a robot at first, from his shiny latex skin, and his stiff movements.
Two yellow beady eyes gleam at me, surrounded by a reddish mask the colour of cheap copper.
There’s also a bulge that leaves absolutely nothing to my imagination.

“Can I help you with something?” I ask him as I approach.
He stops in his tracks when he sees me. Doesn’t say a word. He just stares at me, long and hard.
I can feel something, though. Whoever this is, his mind… I don’t need to touch him to feel like he seems strangely familiar. 
Those stalks coming out of his head, the big ears, and the indentation of a plate on the right side of the face…
That dick…
It’s Vinnie!
“What happened to you-”
He tosses a flare from nowhere at my face. When it exploded, my vision turns a hot white colour and my ears start to ring. 
He moves behind me so quickly I barely was able to take any steps back before he mouse-handled me.
He pulled me into a choke hold and yanked me around, dragging me back towards whatever hole he’d come from. I managed to plant myself, stand my ground, and wriggle myself out of his grip just enough to keep me from losing consciousness. If I could just… hold on until Modo got back, I could, I c-could….

He suddenly pulls me down onto my knees and holds me tight.
“Re-calculating. Processing will begin here.”
His grip on me slackens, but before I can take advantage of that, something cold and wet pours onto me from behind.

“It feels good, doesn’t it.”
That was the most like him he’d ever sounded. But like he was repeating a pre-programmed phrase.
He’s covering my face with this stuff. It kinda feels like really thin clay. This might’ve felt like a spa day if I wasn’t in a half-nelson at the moment, squeezed tight and held against the other mouse’s back. My glasses get ripped off my face and it isn’t much longer before I lost sight of everything else. It’s the same black colour as the drone’s body. As the sticky stuff pushes into my body, through my clothes, I feel it seeping into my pores, hugging me tight, and I feel…
I feel horny all of a sudden.
He’s horny too. Or at least erect.
He grabs my windpipe and squeezes
“V-Vinnie… Vincent… c’mon, you gotta s-snap outta… it…!”
“Don’t fight. There’s no reason to.”
I try to croak out again but the arm pulls tighter around my face and I choke on my words. I feel thick, and faint, and…

Vinnie always was good with his tail.

I feel it push into my pants and push down the zip, and I can feel it leave a snail trail of the corruptive stuff left behind on my cock. It feels like a sex toy, smooth and tight, and it keeps me at full mast, as much as I don’t want to be. 
The tip rubs against the tip of my urethra, and angles, prods…
“D…don’t put it in there,” I try to say, but he shoves it inside - deeper than I expected it to. And it feels…
My balls tighten, for one thing, and my ass relaxes just in time for him to push through my clothes and shove himself inside me.
It’s not the first time he’s impaled me on his dick, and even as a mind-controlled drone he knows exactly how to get me going. His hips slap against my ass, wet and thick and forceful. His cock is coating my insides already, and my guts soften and relax. My toes curl inside my boots and my body goes limp as he squeezes my throat tighter. I feel myself losing consciousness for seconds at a time, waking back up to another thrust that makes my whole body throb with painful pleasure.
I can’t help it. I relax for his dick and let him continue to plow me. His tail slithers up and down inside my dick, the rest of his coiled lengths stroking my cock up and down, up and down…

Terror’s been flooding my brain.
But it’s hitting me less and less as the slime spreads and thickens, pressing into me like a weighted blanket. 
All my worries are getting wrapped up in the thick latex blanket, thickening it with layer after layer. The terror starts to feel more like a memory of it. Then more distant than that. It recedes away from me. Every single thing I was worried about ceases to be a problem. I just feel serenity wash over me. 
There’ve been attempts to mind control me before, child’s play, but…giving in like this feels incredible. What have I been missing all this time?
What have I…
The exhilaration pushes deeper into me.
It smothers my brain and fills every wrinkle. I can picture it. 

Who am I?

Another blanket of latex blocks out that part of my brain. I don’t mind. It feels wonderful. 
Thinking. 
I didn’t realise how much of a burden it was until now. Now that it’s taken from me. I feel serene. I feel comfortable, and relaxed, and….

I don’t feel at all any more.
I…

The drone. The drone does not feel anymore.
The drone allows the other drone to continue processing until it is completed.
The drone is completely covered within a minute, at which point both it and the original drone are allowed to achieve orgasm. 
There is no outward physical reaction displayed, except for the production of black fluid that paints the grass of the stadium. No emotional reaction. It is unnecessary.
The first drone’s orgasm is an information transfer.
The second drone receives.
Pink spirals flood its vision as it receives its programming from the nanites flooding its still organic brain.

The Drone is ready to continue the work.
One Drone remains for collection.
The Drone knows where to find it.

Capture 3 - Modo, Mousehandled

Riding outside of the city limits is nice. I don’t have to worry about causing any noise pollution, and I can drive for long stretches without having to make any turns. My bike purrs like a kitten, and it’s the only sound I need. Almost like a lullaby.
I could close my eyes for some of those stretches, if I wanted to. If there wasn’t all the traffic to be mindful of.

I’ve been out for an hour, though, time to head back. 
My mind wanders a little bit as I go down the highway. I’m wondering why Vinnie’s been awol for a bit. It’s been weird not having him around as much, but I guess everyone needs some space now and again. Nothing wrong with him being a little tired of being around his brothers in arms, I guess…
Turns out I was going to see him a lot sooner than I thought.
There’s a massive oil slick up ahead of me, and I pump the brakes. My girl screams as the brakes grind. I’ve got too much momentum, I’m gonna run into it and then it’s going to be all damage control, trying not to hurt myself too hard when I fall.
When the rubber meets the road, it starts to stick like it’s on a glue trap. The complete opposite of what I expected.
“What the heck…?” I twist the handles, but I feel them start to gum up as well. This stuff’s just shooting its way up, sticking to my boots and my clothes. I leap off of my bike and it topples onto its side, sinking into the gunk. I can still move, but my feet are sticking more and more with each waddling step I take. My right arm transforms into a cannon, and I aim straight down, firing off a few blasts to clear the path ahead. That seems to work…
I hear other footsteps - for a moment I think it might be some innocent passerby caught in the same stuff, but they’re moving much faster.

I turn just in time to see two… mice? 
One of them - one with a pair of familiar looking red goggles - tackles into me. I can handle him. I’m bigger. But then the other one crashes into me and I fall back.
Splat. It’s all over me. They’re all over me. They grab at my clothes and tug, and I suddenly feel… weak. 
One of them presses a paw against my face and smears me with that same stuff.
It’s thin, but it’s enough to cover me.
They have no problems peeling me off, and forcing me onto my hands and knees. I gasp and sputter for air, but it only lets something shove into my mouth. Something warm and squishy and throbbing, really f-familiar…

The goo clings to my face… I can barely breathe…
I can only breathe the scent, and it’s.. Kinda tasty.
The dick in my mouth feels like Vinny’s. It has to be him. I knew I recognized them…
Too late now.

There’s another dick rubbing me from behind. The other one. I didn’t even get a real close look at him, but I know it’s Throttle by the way he’s pushing and grinding. Even when he’s… whatever he is right now, he’s warming me up the usual way.
It almost makes me forget that I’m out in the open, and in some serious trouble. 
But the sticky stuff is holding me on my hands and knees. It’s too strong. Or I’m too weak. Getting w-weaker by the second…

The gunk is covering my eye completely, and I can’t stop it from clinging to me. It plugs up my ears and my insides roar and rush. It’s even pushing along my lips, enclosing around Vinnie’s shiny dick.
My dick’s throbbing too, dribbling and dripping. It feels… thicker than usual.
My mind turns to static and my thoughts start to melt. My muscles ache like I’ve just finished a workout, and I feel sorta… stronger. Like I could escape, I could f-fight back… but…

Another bit of that stringy gunk is wrapping up and along my dick like a tentacle, until it comes to a rest on the tip of my cock and rubs it. I’m already rock hard, as much as I don’t want to be…
Then I realise, it’s not just the goo. It’s Throttle’s fingers, they’re tickling my dick and balls, easing them out into the open
They push into me from both sides, riding me like a see-saw. When Throttle pulls They’ve never fucked me like this before, not this hard. 
And it’s never felt this amazing. 

My right arm is shorting out, it’s turned into dead weight… but I can’t move the rest of my body either, not with all that gunk washing over me and holding me fast.
The others go to town on me… and the wildest thing is, I’m feeling less and less freaked out about it. I settle into it. My face relaxes, and my mind and body with it too. The goo’s like a blanket, like it’s protecting me from a chilly night. I feel safe in its cocoon, and I wonder why I was even resisting in the first place.
I feel… really good….
It feels… really good.

It feels pleasure.
It does not need to feel pleasure.
It ceases to feel pleasure.
It is Drone.
Drone achieves orgasm a moment later, simultaneously with the other drones.
There is no physiological element to it.

The Drone is flooded with programming from both drones, and it understands its task.
The primary mission has already been completed by the other two drones.
All this drone must do is wait for requisitioning.
It stands up, cock still hard, and stands to attention.
It waits quietly with the other drones, ignoring all other stimuli around it.
When the requisitioning vehicle arrives, it does not resist the tractor beam pulling it free of the 
Its motorcycle is left behind.
Drones do not use property.
Drones are property.
It will be requisitioned for later use.

Stock-Taking

Dr. Lemarre could hear the three drones working away even as they floated down the hallway towards them. The sound of squeaking, slapping rubber was a delightful symphony.
He had only been briefly involved with the first recruitment. Being hands on was fun, but he thought it would be more exciting to see the three of them together in their full, dronified glory.
Three more pieces of eye candy for his growing collection. The ship’s computer was still scanning through various realities, looking for his next destination. What better way to spend his downtime than rubbing one out to his new toys?

He reached Cell 03 and let the door slide open on its own, grinning like a kid at their birthday.

“Hellooooo boys~!”

The three drones instantly broke free from their rutting and stood to attention. Even though they’d been a tangle of limbs and penetrating shafts, it took them no time at all, and there was an odd gracefulness to their movement. Their thick latex boots clacked on the floor as their left arms shot up, their hands pressing into their temples with a united salute.
Sanmer felt a shiver down his spine. He was already rubbing himself. Couldn’t help it.

“That’s the spirit, boys. So loyal and good.”

They were quiet, not responding.

“Say, Thank You Doctor.”
“Thank you Doctor.”
They spoke like a hive mind, in perfect unison. Another shiver. Perfection.

The white fox was resting his chin on his free wrist, contentedly admiring his prizes as he rubbed at himself.
They all looked so good. They kept their old silhouettes, their latex bodysuits creating a sort of glossy facsimile of the clothing they used to wear. Naturally their dicks were out, and their musculature had been enhanced, but it was easy enough to tell who was who.
BM-01 still had the mask-plate on the right side of its face, BM-02 had their glasses (glowing bright yellow rather than green) and BM-03’s single eye gleamed balefully, a black patch over the left.
Not that they remembered their names, could tell each other apart, or even saw each other as anything else than fellow drones. Tools to be used.
Dr. Lemarre’s tools, specifically.
Those three tools of theirs, too… gosh. They’d been getting bigger, thanks to their nano-latex enhancing their features into an almost cartoonishly chiseled body. Like steroids without the dick-shrinkage. The opposite effect.
He would have to give them a stroke once it had fully cured and there was no risk of it transferring to him.
At the moment, he was content with letting them be eye candy.
“Ahh… you’re just so beautiful, all three of you. Don’t mind me, you can get back to what you were doing.”

The three ceased their salute, and practically crashed into each other again as they groped, rubbed, stroked. When they were on ‘standby’ mode, there was little else they could do or think to do aside from fuck each other. Arousal kept them docile.

BM-02 opened their mouth wide, the latex second-skin around their muzzle tearing away in syrup-like strands to allow them to lick and lap and kiss at the other two with a super prehensile tongue. Their hands explored each other’s bodies. Their second skins started to merge whenever they touched each other, and when they pulled away, needle-thin strands of fluids remained stuck between them like strands of gum. 

Their dicks were throbbing in their skin-tight prisons, pre managing to drip out from the tips. BM-01 was putting his thin, ultra-prehensile tail to work as always - coiling it around BM-02’s cock, and letting it tickle the tip of its urethra. BM-02 and BM-03 flanked BM-01, the larger one behind, the smaller one in front. BM-02 knelt in front of the pair, the tongue lengthening and wrapping around BM-01’s cock, before pressing its snout right up into the base. It suckled deeply, the cock squeaking and throbbing against the bobbing head. The tongue slithered out further, down between the fork of the other drone’s legs, to wrap around BM-03’s shaft. That cock, ribbed with thick nubs all the way along the base, was rubbing between BM-01’s cheeks, about to get buried inside, but not quite yet. 
It was sort of nice that they still were able to do a bit of foreplay, even if it was a very automatic, dispassionate sort of task.

With a squeak and a squish, BM-03 pushed in. BM-01 did not even whimper. BM-02 did not seem to notice when its own cock started to erupt. No refractory period, of course, it stayed hard and came again only a few moments later. This was a good way to keep any residual will from bubbling back to the surface. And it also was hot as hell.
BM-01 rocked back and forth between its fellow drones, corruptive cum leaking down its thighs - both its own, and BM-03’s. It absorbed into them, since it was made of the same stuff they were coated in. Flesh, blood, and fluids were all completely replaced. There was no going back.

Sanmer squeezed his dick, rubbing the head with his thumb, the little fox biting on his lip and giggling. Breathing in the scent of chemical latex and pheromonal arousal. 
Sanmer was going to take his time enjoying the sights and sounds in front of him.. He was a little tempted to edge himself into a mind-melted state of his own… 
Calibration of the next location was going to take at least an hour. Would he save it till the end? 
As his eyes flitted from cock, to ass, to mouth, Sanmer huffed. It would be a bit of a challenge, but a fun one.

To read more work like this early, head to my Patreon!
www.patreon.com/limewah 

Subscribe to my Telegram Channel if you’d like, too!
https://t.me/Limewah