Letter About the Brain Drain Gun (mm mc)
by mcgarguy
Hello my most dear soldier friend.
I want to thank you again for that late night that you and I spent drinking beer together at the base, that night when you drank much too much lager and told me your delightfully funny story all about the 'silly' Brain Drain Gun. Remember how you wondered aloud about how it must feel to be its target? How amusing of you to wonder about that.
Anyway, that silly old legend has been circulating for quite some time.
And, of course, I had heard of the device before. In fact, I had been looking for one for my very own.
And that was why I was so willing to hear you tell your tale, and even ply you with alcohol, just so you would talk. See, the legend about the gun that can stupefy a man, and drain his brain of all thoughts and memories, is not just some ridiculous modern myth, no.
I think I should tell you... the Brain Drain Gun is quite real.
Yes, that's right, it's absolutely real. It has been in development in some military lab for years and it actually works. Why, I have one right here in my safe keeping. In fact, I'm holding it in my hand right now, and it's fully charged, and it feels hard and heavy and powerful, and oh so very evil. I like it.
Yes, the Gun is real. I promise. I bought this unit off of e-Bay, thanks to you. For though I had heard of the Gun before, I had never been able to locate one, no matter how hard I tried, no matter whom I bribed, until in your conveniently drunken, wonderfully enlightened state, you jokingly suggested that there might be one on e-Bay. It was a brilliant suggestion. Thank you so very much.
I was the only bidder.
Anyway, like I said, I like it, and I cannot wait to use it on someone.
Naturally, I could use it on just anyone, but I'm saving it for you. That's right, you. Just for the pure fun of letting you know in advance, let me warn you yet again: I intend to use it on you.
Well, on you... and your other army buddies.
Oh sure, I tested it first on a couple guys up the street just for the heck of it. You know those two punks who always dress in latex? I invited them down for beer knowing that they'd both say ok, and while they were guzzling their suds and boasting about rugby, I pulled up the Gun and took aim.
I fired it at the one and his face went so totally blank, and then he slowly broke into whimsical smile and slid smoothly off his chair as though liquefied... while his friend gaped, dumbfounded by the sight: "what the fuck did you just do?" he said. And then I turned and took aim at the friend, and he just stared at me confused, with his mouth opened, frozen -
and I pulled the trigger.
The device works just as you said it would; it locks on them and simply strips away all intelligent thoughts. Punk number 2 remained fixated in the beam for a few seconds with eyes wide open while the ray worked its magic and erased all his memories. And then a sappy, bemused look spread across his sweet face and he oozed off his chair, following his friend down to the ground in a heap. They were both crawling on the floor within moments with the most delightfully insipid smiles on their faces.
I swear, those vapid, goo-goo looks were priceless.
And they seemed so very happy. They were giggling and cooing and chewing on their clothes. They were slapping at the floor with innocent delight and grabbing for anything to put in their mouths. Did I mention that they were drooling? Yes, it's true; they were drooling over everything without a care. And they were pretty cute to watch.
You know, this Gun of yours works like a charm; my two victims never stood a chance.
And they began clawing off their shirts and latex pants, eager to be free of the restrictive clothing. Yeah, they were soon so blissfully naked. And having lost all self control, and all inhibitions, the one even peed on himself and didn't seem to mind. He didn't even notice. And the two of them began crawling all over themselves in mindless play. And as I observed, their dicks grew hard from the sensual pleasure, and they played together all night.
And I played with them all night too. I dressed them in rubber, and toyed with them, and I had a very good time with them. It was a lot fun.
Then I hauled them back home under cover of darkness. Their neighbors will discover them tomorrow, and I guess someone will have to volunteer to look after them until the effects wear off some day. They are really quite a mess, those two.
But that was just a quick experiment. See, I intend to use the Gun on you next; yes, you and the rest of your squad. I've kept track of where your squad is doing its training and I have set up a trap. Don't be afraid, it won't hurt a bit.
Some night when you and your buddies are traveling up the road at high speed and unable to get out of your vehicle, the driver will turn, and you'll see that you don't recognize him. He's one of my guys. And with the broadest smile, he'll simply say: "It's Brain Drain Time!" And he'll proceed to aim at you one by one. Yes he will.
Just imagine the scene: a truck full of big, grown, strong soldier men, all in military uniforms, caught off guard and confused as the first and then second victims are stupefied by the beam. And horrified by what they see their comrades reduced to, the remaining men all begin scrambling to evade the aim, only to be caught, one at a time, in its sites, stopped short in the beam, mouths open, and left mindless by the foolproof mechanism.
And soon all will be turned into vapid, blubbering, and giggling idiots.
Yes, the driver will work down the line, and as you watch, your friends will all succumb and slide onto the floor of the truck in a pile, falling over each other, shrieking with glee, acting totally silly and stupid. And then the driver will point the gun directly at you.
Yes, you.
I've told him to save you for last.
And he'll say again, just to you this time, gloating as he does: "Time to drain you brain, boy!" And since you will be held fast by the weight of all your stupefied buddies crawling over you, there will be no escape.
Look up at your assailant helplessly, and watch him as he pulls the trigger on you. Then, and only then, will you finally find out what the gun really feels like, that is, if you ever remember. No, it doesn't exactly knock you over, and no, it doesn't hurt. But the affect is so great and powerful, you'll just love how it makes you feel, I promise. It's going to make you so very, very happy.
And all your fears and worries and responsibilities will immediately fade away. Your thoughts and memories will simply slip slide out of you, and as the driver watches, you will join your friends, all cross eyed and ecstatically stupid, on the floor in a tangled mess of wet slobbering bodies.
Then the driver will drive on, and make a planned detour, and by the time he pulls up in front of my lab, there'll be a whole squad of half clothed, half naked, drooling military men rolling around gleefully, mindlessly fucking about in the back; not a care, not a worry, not a concern in the world.
We may have trouble separating you from the rest of the mess, but it will be worth it. We will give you special treatment. After all, it was you who, perhaps inadvertently, made this all possible in the first place.
And my boys and I will haul all of you big strong muscled naked men... all now reduced to babbling squirming idiots, and all glistening sticky wet... into the lab for further experiments.
You see, we want to make the Gun even better, and you and your friends will be our test subjects. We need more men to experiment on... repeatedly. And we want to know just how totally brainwashed you can be. And we intend to keep you heavily stupefied for a very long time, while we carefully assess your conditioning and meticulously document your total humiliation... all in the name of science, of course.
But don't worry, you'll feel wonderful. I swear. You won't even be aware of the experiments. In fact, you won't know a thing. But you'll be really, really happy. I promise.
And just in case you and your friends are totally un-trainable, we'll keep some extra diapers on hand.
I just thought you should be forewarned, not that I expect you will want to do anything to prevent it.
So, soldier boy, see you real soon.
And thank you so much in advance for making it all possible.
Best wishes,
Your Dearest Friend.
END