Lance Storm and the Invasion of the Nastyons (mm scifi mc asfr)

This story is copyrighted by the author. It contains tons of kinky gay sex stuff, and anyone who is under legal age should not read any farther. Besides, they're probably too busy doing it for real. Thanks to Topaz172 and Omelissokomos for some fun "crowd" ideas Comments welcome at [email protected].

This story is made possible by a grant from Hypnothrill, and by perverts like you.

Dream Cast: Brendan Fraser as Captain Lance Storm, Keanu Reeves as Lieutenant
Eros, Will Friedle as Cadet Timmy, and Judi Dench as Colonel Crabbe.
With Justin Baldoni as Rocco.
Special Appearance by Ian McKellan as the President.
And Introducing Christopher Lloyd as Dr. Zarbovsky.

In our last thrilling episode, the
world was preparing to mourn the death
of Lieutenant Eros, who was thought to have
been lost in space – unaware that he was actually
alive, the petrified captive of a maniacally devoted fan.
Now, rescued and restored to normal by Lance Storm and the
loyal Cadet Timmy, he has returned to Earth, turning the biggest
funeral in history into the biggest party. As the crowd celebrates his
return, they are unaware of a hovering evil that looms nearer...and nearer...

The voice of the President of Earth boomed out from the speakers all around Megalopolis' famed Timewarp Square. "We came here for a day of mourning," said the kindly old patriarch from his podium. "But instead it is a day of joy! What more can I add on such an occasion but - party on, boys!"

A roar of applause and approval rose from thousands of male throats. They had come from everywhere to say farewell to Eros of Orgasmia, the hypnotically sexy being who had changed their lives - only to find him alive, well, and ready to rock! The alien stud looked out across the sea of adoring faces and grinned. Practically every hunk he'd ever enslaved with his hypnotic pheromones, all gathered in one place! Every one of them ready and eager to think, do, or become anything that he commanded! Even for him, this was going to be one hell of a party.

Eros smoothed back his ice-blue hair and, with a teasing smile, pulled open just an inch or two of his skin-tight Rocketeer blues, exposing the golden-bronze chest beneath with its tiny golden hairs. The sighing moan that arose from the crowd was like the sound of an approaching storm. There were a few thudding sounds as men fainted from sheer excitement.

At Eros' side, Lance Storm and Cadet Timmy exchanged happy looks. The pride of the Rocketeers was clad in a pair of ultra-tight, torn jeans and little else, his 6'6" of bulging muscle on display for all; his tall teen sidekick wore an old-fashioned pinafore. It had been Eros' whim to re-enact the scene from Tom Sawyer where Tom crashes his own funeral. Behind them, the President beamed, while tough old Colonel Crabbe stood stiffly in uniform, trying hard to keep from cracking a smile - and almost succeeding.

Eros scanned the eyes of the multitude and saw the same thing in every pair - a desperate desire to feel the bliss of his power. With his shipmates at his heels, he slowly descended the steps into the crowd...


"Wow!" said Timmy several hours later. "I gotta say, Galaxy Pizza really delivers!"

"In ten parsecs or - gasp! - it's free-e-e," moaned Rocco the pizza boy, as Lance, Eros and Timmy licked mushrooms, cheese and pepperoni off his lean, naked body. He had never met them before - he was one of those who had stayed on to provide services for the mourners when much of the World's Largest City was evacuated to make room for the funeral. But when he arrived with their order, he had looked so darned cute that Eros had grabbed him in an impulsive kiss. As his senses reeled, the Orgasmian - having just come minutes before - had stuck a finger coated with his own silver jism into the youth's slack mouth and ordered, "Swallow". Seconds later, the young Italian stallion was happily, permanently enslaved. "It's my party," Eros had told him, "and no one should have to miss it!"

Now they sprawled happily on the lawn in front of Galaxy Towers, their clothing long since abandoned. It was a very large lawn, but there was little of it that was not covered at the moment by the writing nude bodies of men engaged in passionate sex. A brawny construction worker dashed past them, a red hooded cape fluttering behind him, hotly pursued by a man who emitted loud howls as he loped on all fours. "Having fun, boys?" called Eros.

"Oh yes, thank you, Master," piped the workman in a high, girlish voice. "Thank you so much for giving us such a fine game to play!"

"Better keep running," leered his bearded pursuer, "for I intend to catch you and eat all your goodies!"

The hooded man squealed and ran faster, and his friend bounded after, exclaiming, "Everything is so gay here in the forest!"

Rocco's eyes grew even wider as a dozen drop-dead-gorgeous, perfectly-muscled men came literally dancing down the street, their raunchy moves an open invitation to everyone they passed. "Eros! Lance!" cried the man in front. "Remember us?"

"The guys from Chippendale's Pleasure Planet!" cried Lance in delight, remembering his first orgy with Eros. "It's great to see you again!"

Timmy grinned. "Oh man, why'd I have to miss that assignment?"

"Hey fellas," asked Eros mischievously, "like to relive a moment from your past?"

"Any moment you were part of!" they chorused.

The Orgasmian slid one finger down Rocco's muscular chest, causing his body to arch in ecstasy. As every tendon stood out in relief, he ordered, "Rocco, freeze." The Italian's entire body went as rigid as his nine-inch cock, his dreamy dark eyes staring helplessly. "Here ya go," offered Eros, lifting the petrified youth off the grass and tossing him into the arms of the delighted dancers.

"Woo-hoo! Thanks, Eros!" They swarmed over the frozen stud, one wrapping a mouth around his stiff rod, another plunging into his ass, a third tonguing his open mouth fiercely. Rocco's frozen face could not show the slightest response, nor his frozen vocal cords make a sound, but inwardly he was in heaven - partly from the pleasure of sex, but more than anything just because his beloved Eros had put him so totally in his power. He had never been so happy in his life.

"Let's stroll. Gotta walk off those carbs," suggested Eros, and of course his shipmates happily agreed. As they wandered through the streets of the celebrating city, Eros received warm (and lustful) greetings from every happily writhing couple, triple, or multiple they passed, all grateful for the slightest response. He nodded pleasantly, noting some in his mind as guys he wanted to get back to, giving others an instant thrill with some friendly phrase like "Orgasm now, until you pass out" or "You're a clogged sink. And you are a plumber. Get to work." A group of hotties from the Topaz 172 star cluster ran by, engaged in one of the endlessly inventive sex games that dominate their culture. It really was turning into a great party.

"I wonder how Mel, Chip and Rusty are making out?" Lance said idly.

"And who with," smiled Eros. Their fellow Rocketeers were still happily under the influence from their recent adventure together - Chip had been turned into a robot, while Mel and Rusty, zapped by the Puppetron Helmet, were helpless body-slaves. At their request, Eros had given them all the same order - "Obey any erotic command from anyone" - and sent them in search of fun.

As Lance and his friends reached the Avenue of the Planets, a man strode toward them eagerly - a tall, dark-bearded man with square-lensed glasses and a noticeable resemblance to Rasputin. "Captain Lance Storm and Lieutenant Eros!" he cried. "I haff been hopink to see you!"

Lance exchanged a baffled look with his partner. "Have we met, sir?"

"Of course we haff - ten szeconds ago. I, Dr. Oddislav Zarbovsky, am a great admirer of your exploits. And that is why I wish to show you my latest, greatest inwention!"

"Gosh!" said Timmy. "You're an inventor!"

Dr. Zarbovsky eyed him. "Yah. That would follow."

Lance looked at Eros questioningly. "What do you think?"

Eros shrugged. "Why not? Could be fun."

"More than fun!" cried the inventor. "It is szience!" He led the way to a nearby house - a ramshackle old brownstone that must have dated way back to the Twentieth Century - and gestured them through the door. Inside, the entire place seemed to be a huge workshop, with futuristic gadgets of every kind scattered on every surface, even piled on the dining table. Odd parts and components littered the floor, and Lance almost tripped over a helmet-like contraption with multicolored wires attached. "Careful!" cried the scientist. "Please don't shtep on the mind meld helmet!"

Timmy looked at the device with interest. "Mind meld? Is that like the thing you do with your tongue, Eros?"

Eros grinned. "No, Timmy, that's a mind melt. A meld would be a joining of two minds."

Dr. Zarbovsky nodded. "Right! But it is not yet ready. I tried it yesterday, and it sent everyone in the city the same mental message. Four thousand at once. Gotta work on the focus." He marched over to another doorway, kicking a death-ray and an automatic mucilage-remover out of their path. "In here," he announced boldly, "is the greatest inwention of my lifetime!"

In the next room stood a large, gleaming metal sphere on short tripod legs, with a ramp leading up to a hinged door. Through the open door they could see a bewildering array of panels and switches - and several comfortable plush seats. "Gosh! What is it?" Timmy wondered.

Dr. Zarbovsky gestured grandly. "Behold, chentlemen - my time machine!"

The Rocketeers stared, impressed. "Wow!" said Lance. "Have you tested it yet, Doc?"

He shook his head. "That is why I came to you. An adventure like this should be shared with the world's greatest adventurers! Come with me, men - on the first ever voyage through time!"

The three exchanged a look - a look filled with the excitement of being the first to plumb the unknown. This was the kind of chance a Rocketeer dreamed of! "We're with you, Doc!" Lance cried happily. "Lead on!"

Dr. Zarbovsky raised his arm to usher them up the ramp, and they followed him into the silvery sphere. "Make yourselfs comfortable," he invited, "while I power up." Pulling the door shut behind him, he reached into a pocket and pulled out a cloth bag, from which he extracted a small, shining coin. "My power szource," he explained proudly. "One of the world's rarest alloys - only ever used in the early Twenty-First Century, in the memorial series of Jimmy Carter nickels. When this metal touches the coils of the engine - we are off!" With a flourish, he popped the coin into a handy slot.

There was a second of silence in the chamber. Then, with a choking, gasping sound like a strangulated emu, the sphere slowly faded from sight.*

Moments later, a shadow descended over the celebrating city - the shadow of a huge, alien saucer. Gunmetal grey, it resembled nothing so much as an immense pair of pie plates joined together. Evil pie plates from the dark depths of space.

From the bottom of the vast disc, an eerie blue light beamed down upon the city...


Minutes later, there was a rush of displaced air in Dr. Zarbovsky's lab, and the time sphere materialized again. As its door was flung open, Lance was enthusing, "Wow, Doc! That was like nothing I've ever done before!"

"Me neither," agreed Eros, "and that's saying a lot."

"Yah," the scientist nodded happily. "Amazink, lieutenant - those ancient Greeks thought you were a god!"

"Doesn't everybody?" sighed Timmy happily.

"Let's go find the president and tell him about it," urged Lance. "You're going to be famous, Doc!"

The four stepped out into the street - and stopped in surprise.

The streets were still crowded...but there was no movement. It was like a gallery of statues. Just beside the steps of Zarbovsky's house, one man was frozen in the act of giving his friend a blow job; his partner, just on the verge of coming, had stopped still with his eyes shut tight and his mouth in an 'O' of impending ecstasy. A line of muscleboys, clad only in scarves representing the flags of all nations, stood in a rigid conga line, each erect cock plugged into the man in front. A handsome, dark-skinned traffic cop had been immobilized while waving them across the intersection...while a pair of youthful skaters knelt before him in handcuffs, their tongues stiffly glued to his "nightstick". Atop the marble statue on the corner, three gymnasts were poised in a motionless sexual triangle that defied the laws of gravity.

"Gosh!" gasped Timmy, wide-eyed. "The party really does stop when we're not here!"

Lance gave their master a half-smile. "Eros...did you...?"

But the Orgasmian shook his head grimly. "No, Lance. I didn't do this. This looks like the work of the deadliest, most ruthless space menace I've ever encountered. This is the work of...the Nastyons!"

"Oh, no!" exclaimed Lance. "Um...who are the Nastyons?"

"More like 'what' than 'who'," his partner frowned. "They're a race of humanoid machines, single-mindedly dedicated to their evil directive: to invade new planets, immobilize whole populations, and penetrate the helpless victims with their metal dicks."

Timmy scratched his head. "And the bad part is...?"

"Their dicks inject nanoprobes that turn everyone they fuck into a Nastyon - mindlessly screwing everyone in sight, but only once, and without feeling any emotion at all."

"None at all?" echoed Lance.

"Only once?" gasped Timmy.

"That's horrible!" they chorused.

"We must find a way to shtop them!" cried Zarbovsky. "And fast - here they come!" A trio of metallic figures strode stiffly around the corner, sleek muscles glinting with a silver sheen, eyes gleaming redly. At sight of the four unparalyzed humans, they emitted a series of loud beeping sounds and advanced. "WE-ARE-THE-NASTYONS," they spoke in a buzzing monotone. "RESISTANCE-IS-USELESS."

"Run!" cried Lance, leading his friends in a dash down the street. Ducking into an alley, they spotted an open garage door and raced inside. A line of mechanics stood at parade rest, their overalls dropped so that nothing held them up but each man's jutting erection. Their eyes were frozenly fixed on a dangling pocket-watch in the hand of a slim teenager.

"Out the other side!" urged Lance, and they ran through a side door back out into the saucer-shadowed sunlight, where a group of faithful Muslims had been caught while praying to Mecca, their bare butts raised high and ready. From the end of the street, another trio of Nastyons appeared, exchanging beeping signals with the three who pursued the fugitives from behind. "WE-ARE-THE-NASTYONS," they buzzed. "RESISTANCE-IS-USELESS."

"Can we fight them off?" Timmy wondered, as they dashed madly down a side street.

"No chance," Eros shook his head. "They're all metal - they wouldn't even feel it."

"We have to do szomethink!" cried Dr. Zarbovsky.

"Wait!" exclaimed Lance, suddenly spotting movement from the corner of his eye. It was the Rocketeer crew they had just returned to Earth with - Mel, Rusty, and Chip! The Nastyons' blue beam had caught them in the midst of a three-way...but Chip, being a robot, was unaffected. Without any new instructions, he was still mechanically pumping his steel cock into Mel, his naked metal butt pressing against Rusty's face with each motion. The two voyeurs who had ordered their "command performance" stood by with lustful grins frozen onto their faces.

"Chip!" Lance ordered. "Stand up and come with us!"

"U-nit o-beys." The robotized Rocketeer complied, leaving his shipmates lying stiffly on the ground.

"Chip," said Eros, getting Lance's idea at once, "you're the only one here as strong as the Nastyons - and you're immune to their nanoprobes. Fight them off. Give us time to escape."

"U-nit o-beys." Chip wheeled stiffly and faced the oncoming invaders. He raised his hands, and thousand-volt electrical charges sizzled at his fingertips. The Nastyons were in for a fight!

"This way, guys!" Lance panted, leading them back toward where they had started - the home of Dr. Zarbovsky. Seeing their looks of confusion, he added, "Trust me. I know what I'm doing!"

They managed to get back into the scientist's house without further difficulty, barely escaping the glowing eyes of another Nastyon patrol. "Well, Lance?" asked Eros. "What now?"

His captain scooped up the mind meld helmet from the floor. "Remember what the Doc said? When he sent out a telepathic message with this, it reached every single person in the city! So if you were to put it on, Eros..."

The Orgasmian's eyes lit up. "Yes! Lance, you're brilliant!" He grabbed his partner in an impulsive kiss, causing him to come explosively. As Timmy steadied his reeling captain, Eros took the helmet from his trembling hands and clapped it onto his own head, while Dr. Zarbovsky feverishly connected the various wires into the proper configuration. "Ready!" the inventor exclaimed.

"Right." Eros settled down into a squatting position, taking a deep breath. He closed his eyes tight, and focused on what was needed most...

A mental scenario of total erotic pleasure.

And suddenly his mind was everywhere at once.

He was in the minds of two construction workers, frozen as they sixty-nined in the drying concrete. He was each man, and he was also Eros, filling their minds with sheer lust as they saw themselves once again in the throes of passion.

He was in the minds of a pair of brawny firemen, their hard bodies locked together, their eyes raised in surprise to face the fire captain who had just walked in and found them together - and he was in the mind of the fire captain, too. They all felt his hands stroking, his lips kissing every surface of their bodies, sending their senses into overdrive with irresistible Orgasmian pheromones.

He was in the minds of Mel and Rusty, no longer lying alone, but feeling their beloved Eros inside them - fucking them, sucking them, tonguing them, wrapping his hot form around them, all at once!

He was in the minds of Lance and Timmy and Dr. Zarbovsky, and they sank to their knees, senses spinning with the overload of sensations he was channeling... as he telepathically made love to thousands of men at once, every one of them feeling the alien's sheer erotic power exploding through his helpless body... an experience that had overwhelmed each of their minds long ago!

Eros felt every one of them respond, felt the touch of four thousand kisses, the suction of four thousand blow jobs, the impact of four thousand cocks in his golden-bronze ass. When he came, it was like a rocket - And four thousand men came with him - their bodies springing back to life in the biggest shared orgasm of all time!

They rose up, all their manly vigor restored...and they advanced on the Nastyon horde with any weapon that came to hand - brickbats, steel pipes, bulldozers, wrecking balls, steamrollers...

The Nastyons never stood a chance.


The lusty cheer that arose from the city below could actually be heard aboard the Nastyon saucer as it jetted back toward the upper atmosphere, leaving the Earth behind as a lost cause.

Lance and Eros kicked aside the wrecked bodies of the fallen invaders as they strode to a public teleceiver console. "Well," said Eros, "we'll really have something to tell the President now!"

"Oh my gosh!" cried Timmy. "We forgot all about him - and Colonel Crabbe! I hope they're all right!"

"Don't worry, son," Lance said reassuringly. "You know, older folks aren't we are. They probably went home to relax before the trouble even started."

The teleceiver screen lit up as Eros' call was put through. They were pleased to see the President's kindly face appear, evidently no worse for wear. "Boys!" he said proudly. "I've been watching the news reports, and I'm thrilled with your work. You've saved the Earth again, lieutenant - that's twice in one week!"

"It was Lance's inspiration, sir," Eros said truthfully. "Is everything all right with you?"

"Oh, fine, fine. Truth to tell, I had gone home before the attack began."

Lance nodded wisely.

"Well, now that things are under control there," said the President, "I guess I can get back to - "

A second voice was heard from the speaker, coming from somewhere out of range of the screen. "Where's my little doggy?" barked the unmistakable tones of Colonel Crabbe. "He's been a bad, bad little doggy!" The sharp crack that followed sounded remarkably like a bullwhip.

The President blushed. "Um, gotta go now. Bye."

The teleceiver image winked out.

"Well, I'll be!" marveled Lance. "I guess you're only as old as you feel, after all!"

"Then let's get back to the party, my loves!" laughed Eros, wrapping his arms around them both. "I feel - young!"

All contents of this story have been cleared for release by the Allied Space Fleet Rocketeers. Call your ASFR recruiting office today!

Anne Francis Remembers

Q: What are your memories of filming Nastyons' Invasion of Earth 2250 A. D., Around Five on a Tuesday?

AF: The movie was a big, big disappointment. I just assumed they were going to use the stars of the lance Storm television show. How could you not? Buck Wilde and Torvald Ricardo - I would have killed just to be in the same room with them. A lot of women would, even though we had all heard that they were, well, differently inclined. But instead they got different actors, and they were very nice fellows, very pleasant to work with, but there was just nothing there. No oomph. You know, I can't even remember their names now.

Q: It's amazing that they just ignored the television cast.

AF: They actually did plan to have Eddie Nefrem as Timmy. He was the only one they were going to use. But when he found out that the others hadn't even been asked, he refused. They warned him that it would be bad for his career - that he'd get a reputation for being difficult - but he stuck to his guns. He was one gutsy kid.

Q: How did you feel about your own role?

AF: I was so excited when they told me I'd be playing Tabitha Crabbe. I thought, "My gosh, I'm the colonel! I not only get to act with these gorgeous men, I get to boss them around!" Which was something women didn't get to do much in those days. But then I saw the script, and I was just this silly girl who kept screaming, and having to be rescued. And Lance and Eros fighting over me? Please! I hated that, but I had signed the contract, and I had to do it.

You know, I met Thelma Spudge many years later, when I did a spot on Lou Grant, and she was working as Ed Asner's stunt double. And she was just the loveliest, loveliest old lady. I asked her, rather meekly, if she felt I had disgraced her character. And she laughed and said, "Honey, your script may have sucked, but you looked better in that uniform than I ever did!" She was just a lovely, lovely lady, and we had wonderful sex. (Laughs.) But not with each other! Had you going for a moment there, didn't I?


* For the complete story of our heroes' amazing adventure in time, read "Lance Storm - Greek Style!" in the all-new Lance Storm Annual # 1! Rush to your newsstand and demand a copy today!