Hypnovember 2022
Stiffy Lube (CW: ageplay)
by sentientscribble
Tags:
#cw:ageplay
#cw:sexual_assault
#short_story_collection
#ace
#amnesia
#body_control
#cw:death
#cw:pandemic
#dom:car_code_reader
#dom:f
#dom:god
#fae
#fairy_tale
#fantasy
#forced_toppification
#fungus
#horror
#hypnosis
#intelligence_loss
#magic
#masturbation
#mind_control
#mind_reading
#petplay
#pov:bottom
#public_play
#real_world_kink
#sub:f
#sub:m
#switching
#training
#transformation
#werefox?
#werewolf
#wet_dreams
#wishes
#zombies
Cars are like bodies. All these weird... fluids you have to take care of. But at Stiffy Lube, they handle everything for you.
#cw:ageplay #dom:car_code_reader #sub:m #pov:bottom #masturbation #amnesia #mind_reading #mind_control #wet_dreams
“Welcome to Stiffy Lube!”
God, all these companies trying to rebrand. I mean, it’s an old joke, but I never thought I’d hear it from an employee. Next thing Taco Bell would be calling itself Taco Hell.
“Are you here for scheduled maintenance?”
“Yup — light came on about 100 miles ago.”
That light. I was embarrassed by how motivating it was. I’d never been able to make myself get regular oil changes back in the day, but now when they popped the light on every 5,000 miles, I rushed in right away. What a responsible guy, I always imagined the guys at the shop thinking.
“Anything special I should know about?”
“I guess I just got back from a road trip.”
“Great! We’ll give you an extra careful look-over. Lots of stuff can happen when you’re on the road.”
Was I imagining things or did he wink when he said that? Well, he wasn’t entirely wrong. Lately, travel always made me horny. Something about all those miles flying by, and the frustration just built up faster and faster. And I guess some guys would have taken it into their own hands, so to speak. Done some “personal maintenance,” as my old roommate used to call it, waggling her eyebrows. But not me. I’d kind of lost interest in “personal maintenance,” though I’d done my share when I was younger.
Maybe it came with being a responsible adult, the kind of guy who doesn’t jerk off on his lunch break anymore and who takes his car in right away when the light comes on. Or maybe it was random. But whenever the urge came up ̉— and it only came up every few months, lately — I just waited, and sooner or later it faded again. I could just ignore it.
“Let me just check your ID number here. Open your door for me?”
I did, and he read off my vehicle number and typed it into his computer. It’s all computers now. And then he surprised me — put one hair on my shirt collar, flipped up my hair, peeked at the back of my neck, and keyed in a second number.
“Ope, yup, sure enough. Looks like you’re in for some serious maintenance. You want me to go over it with you?”
“Just give me the works.”
Once, the idea would have stressed me out — I mean, the cost, and the worry they might do things I didn’t know about, things I wouldn’t approve of if they asked. Now I kind of liked it. I was a responsible guy. I let professionals take care of things.
The way these places work is, they do it all with hoses and cables. One guy’s down in a pit under your car, and he hooks them up to your oil port or whatever it’s called, and who knows where else. All sorts of places. I don’t concern myself with that anymore. Another one’s full of wires, hooks up to the computer in your car, because cars are all full of computers now, but that’s not my problem.
And I guess I forgot about this one, but lately they put a hose in through your window too, so they can flip up your hair again and plug it in to the port in the back of your skull. I guess that one’s a bit weird. But the point is, you don’t have to worry about it, because the hoses and cables take care of things. Everything’s under control.
Anyway, they hooked it all up, the guy underneath yelled to the guy up top, and the guy up top yelled back, and they flipped the switch.
Good boy, said the voice in my head. I knew without thinking that it was coming from the cable in my neck. You came back so quickly. So eager. I like that…
Not eager, I thought stubbornly. Responsible.
Mmm, she purred. Yes, so responsible. Such a big boy. You like showing us how big and grown up you are, don’t you?
I felt the sulky, stubborn feeling peaking, then melting away.
You know what else big boys get to do?
I hesitated. She couldn’t mean… could she? But my dick didn’t hesitate. It was starting to swell and push at my jeans.
It looks like you’re scheduled for a lot of maintenance. You’ve been away for a loooong time, haven’t you?
I came back as soon as the light changed, I found myself protesting.
Yes, you were so good. You haven’t had anyone else work on it, have you? Or tried to do it yourself?
I shook my head.
Good boy. You’re getting so big and responsible. Remember how much of a mess you made when you used to try to do it yourself?
I nodded.
Now go ahead and put yourself in neutral.
I felt my whole body relax.
As my mind drifted away, I was vaguely aware of the tech hooking up another hose — in through the window and down onto the head of my cock. In my mind I began to protest again, but before I could form the words, the voice was there.
Yes, I know. You’d rather use your hand like you used to, wouldn’t you.
I nodded. The hose was sucking away gently at the head of my cock, like a mouth sucking but refusing to lick or move. I wanted my hand moving tight and fast.
But according to the computer, you used to make a big mess. Don’t you remember?
I shook my head, this time more in disbelief than in disagreement. Fuck, it’s all computers now, isn’t it?
She continued. You don’t? It’s true, you’ve been a big responsible boy for so long now. Let me help you remember.
The hose sucked a little harder, just for a moment, then backed off again. This was torture.
You remember when you used to wake up with the sheets all sticky?
That wasn’t anything. Probably every guy in the world remembered that.
You remember when Bernie Vargas slept over and you had a wet dream allll over both of you?
Fuck. What? My cock was aching.
That’s right, it’s all in the computer now. Allll that history. It’s how we know what maintenance you need.
The hose sucked harder. Despite my frustration I could feel cum collecting in my balls, ready to shoot.
But you couldn’t help it, could you? I found myself shaking my head sadly. Your daddy didn’t teach you how to take care of things, did he? Or your big brother? Or even your best friend?
Were we talking about car maintenance now or masturbation? But no, I knew it was masturbation, and the thought made my stomach lurch, half in disgust and half in pleasure. I pictured another man’s hand wrapped around mine, wrapped around my cock, showing me…
No, just you all alone… and when you finally learned you were soooo irresponsible. Remember all those times on your lunch break? Trying to be quiet? Wondering if anyone could see you through the crack in the stall door?
I blushed so hard it was almost painful. I could feel the tingle run from my face straight down into my balls, swelling the pool of cum that was going to shoot out of me any minute now. It was true — in college, to stop the wet dreams, I’d started draining my balls twice a day. And then I liked it too much to stop, wet dreams or no. I’d skip classes to masturbate. I’d done it in bathrooms and empty stairwells and alleys at night. I’d…
That’s right. But now you’re a big boy and you let the grownups take care of it, don’t you?
I nodded eagerly. God, if I could just get my hand around my cock I would cum in an instant.
You’re going to keep your next appointment? And come in right when the light turns on?
I kept nodding. I’d agree to anything right now.
And you’re not going to use your dirty little hand no matter how much you want to?
God, I wanted to. I kept nodding, hoping if I was good enough…
Good boy.
The suction on my cock hit its peak. I came so hard it hurt, and not just with the pool of cum that my body had prepared — it went on for squirt after squirt, dozens of times, until my balls felt aching and hollow. I could tell I’d have nothing left to shoot for a long time. Not for thousands of miles.
I was vaguely aware of the techs unhooking all the hoses and cables, cleaning me up, tucking me back into my pants. They take care of everything.
It’s funny how your mind just goes blank on boring errands like this. Nothing happens for ten, fifteen, twenty minutes, and you just tune out. Can’t even remember the time passing.
I pulled back out onto Grant Street. Well, that’s sorted for another 5,000 miles. Such a convenient service. I almost couldn’t wait to come back. Well, the miles always fly by. Maybe I’d take another road trip.