Goo-Goo Goggles Beta Test

(Contains Furries, Incontinence, age regression)

“Oh, uh... yeah. That’s me,” a cross legged red fox said, getting up from where he had been sitting in the cheap chair supplied by a cooperate waiting room. The receptionist, who, not looking up from her clipboard, had, one by one, picked from the patiently waiting applicants, and led them into the room behind her desk. The fox, trying not to look stiff and awkward, followed the rabbit in the company uniform around the stylish corner and down a long hallway with doors on both sides. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously as she nonchalantly pointed to a door, then, rolling her eyes, opened it for him. Deadly stepped through the door, tail lowered almost to the point of being between his legs. The transition between the hallway, badly over lit and sporting more white surface than any interior designer would recommend, to the glamour and sophistication of a well tended modern office.
The place was sleek and stylish, as was its occupant. The room was covered in high gloss chrome furniture, and, on the mirror shined metal desk, various small executive toys were moving in perpetual motion. Deadly didn’t too much look at the moving metal objects, or the projected digital clock on the wall, his eyes were much more occupied looking over the man behind the desk. He was a cougar, very tall, and had a rather assertive figure: wide shoulders, strong looking muscles, a very impressive physique indeed. The name plate said Kyle Lyre. The cougar, having clearly struck up Deadly’s interest, waved him to sit in one of the two identical plastic chairs which had been prepared.
“So, Deadly, is it?” Kyle said in a strong baritone, and rose to shake the fox’s hand.
“Uh, yeah. Deadly. Heh...” Deadly trailed off, flushing red in the cheeks. Kyle either didn’t notice, or didn’t mind. They both sat back down.
“So, Deadly,” the big, burly cougar said, rolling his name over on his tongue, “what, exactly do you think makes you qualified for this?” Our company referred to Macrosoft, a recent emergence in the computer hardware industry, and a competitor with growing market momentum. Recently, they had even credited themself with having created the first and best example of functional wearable computers in the industry. There had been various scandals with the new technology: headsets exploding, hackers cracking into retinal implants and projecting porn for hours, etc. but, with the initial kinks ironed out, the Macrosoft corporation was now proudly announcing its intent to mass produce reliable computer headsets for the masses, just as soon as they were properly tested, of course, which brings the narrative back to the present.
Deadly’s purpose in the office building had not, sadly enough, been to stalk attractive executive felines, it had been to be selected as a beta tester, who would, according to the ad, be given a free unit of the wearable computer once the testing had been complete: a two thousand dollar value, all for only an hour of time.
The cougar asked him some more questions. Medical, work history, and a dozen other things. So entrenched had he been in the routine of answering questions, that he almost replied honestly when asked, “Are you in a relationship?”
Deadly perked up, and looked at him, “Err, I’m not sure I feel comfortable answering that...” the red fox flushed even redder in the face, all the worse from Kyle’s cool, smooth demeanor.
“Suit yourself,” Kyle said, and threw up his arms, “Eh, I think you’ll do fine. Here, put this on.” The big feline reached out a grey furred paw, inside it was a pair of what looked like glasses, except with a strap that went around the head, and lenses made of heavy opaque plastic.
“Oh, uh. Really? Thanks. Wait, right now?” Deadly stammered, cautiously taking the goggles from Kyle. He hadn’t really expected to get in... but he had, and now all the strange and wacky stories about these computerized goggles came back to him. Government conspiracies to melt your brain and all that gunk. He pushed it aside and, trying to maintain a casual demeanor, strapped the goggles around his head.
“They take a moment to boot up, just try to get comfortable,” Kyle said, and, standing, gave Deadly a pat on the back, “how do they fit?”
“Errr, they’re kinda loose...” Deadly said, hoping it wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t, and the cougar tightened a side strap, the goggles suddenly coming into focus now that they fit snugly around his face. What he saw, parallel visuals projected onto the cloudy synthetic that made up the lenses, was little more than a pattern of blooming, colourful splotches and random flickering lights.
“Ever had any problems with seizures?” Kyle asked, and Deadly shook his head no, slightly lagging to respond, “what do you see?”
“Lights...” the fox said, before even realizing it, “colors and lights. Is it supposed to do that?”
“That’s a screensaver, don’t worry about it,” Deadly nodded slowly. For a few minutes, the fox only slumped, relaxed, in the chair he had been provided. He felt warm and fuzzy, elated, barely able to blink, so pleasing were the colourful patterns, like watching an audio processor while high on LSD. At first Deadly tried to follow the swirling movement with his eyes, but soon they drooped, simply staring dead ahead, unseeing. “How do you feel?” Kyle asked.
“G-good...” Deadly said, and giggled for no reason, wiggling a bit. He felt so odd...
“That’s good,” the cougar said, and scratched him lightly under the chin. “I’m going to ask you a few questions. Just answer them honestly, and don’t think too much. Okay?” Deadly nodded and, in short order, Kyle had started into a series of straightforward questions that might well have come right off the government census: age, date of birth, full name, and some other, innocent background information. It might have occurred to him that the cougar could easily have gotten all those answers from his application form, but, so relaxed was the fox that it didn’t even cross his mind.
The questions gradually went deeper: parent’s names, hospital of birth, most recent meal. Deadly answered all without thought or quandary, until, eventually, Kyle asked, “Sexuality?”
“Gay,” the fox blurted out before shaking his head back and forth, trying, and failing to snap himself out of the clinging stupor. Why had he told him that? His heartrate doubled in the space of a few seconds, and he tried to take off the goggles, but, to his surprise, he couldn’t move his arm, “W-whasgoinon?” he stammered, tongue thick and heavy... and the lights... so bright and colourful, entrancing...
Kyle had walked over, and scratched Deadly on the head like a dog, “Hush,” he cooed, “just relax. No need to worry. Everything’s fine...”
Any semblance of stress or fear that still lingered in Deadly’s mind slowly drifted away as he leant into the cougar’s paw, scratching with pleasurable intensity.
“I want you to stand, Deadly,” Kyle said, slow and clear, “stand up for me.” Without a word, the fox rose to his feet, slightly wobbly, and turned to face the feline, who smiled back at him. “Very good, Deadly, now I want you to listen very closely, okay?” The fox, nodded mindlessly, and giggled, “I want you to wet your pants. Can you do that for me, foxy?”
The fox, too far gone into the abyss of trance to resist, the command not setting off any alarm bells, relaxed the body further, and started to loosen his bladder. Staring blankly into the bright, mesmerizing dynamo which still swirled and contorted an inch from his eyes, Deadly obeyed his first command, and, within seconds, started to feel the hot, fragrant liquid running down the inside of his legs. It felt terrific. Whatever fears or doubts his conscious mind may have harboured were utterly swept aside as the pleasure, the absolute extasy of obedience struck him. His cheeks flushed red and he giggled awkwardly as the insides of his blue jeans went dark, the denim soaked with urine.
“Well well well, did the poor little foxy wet himself,” Kyle giggled, “I want you to be naked, foxy. Take off all your clothes, right down to the fur. I want to be able to see every part of you. Don’t be shy, now.” Deadly nodded, already having undone his belt before the order had even been fully given. His soaked, musky pants hit the floor around his ankles, and he stepped out of them and his shoes, both. His socks, also partially covered in urine, came off next, leaving his sleek, curveous lower body fully naked, except for his red boxers. Tail neatly swaying between his legs, the fox pulled his T-shirt over his head, and discarded it into the pile along with the rest of his clothing. “And the boxers, too. I said naked, not almost naked,” Kyle said, sitting down in his executive armchair, “don’t hide from me, foxy.”
Abashed, Deadly’s hands went hurriedly to the waistband of his underwear, needy for the next burst of pleasure, and then he hesitated, wait, this isn’t right... his conscious mind thought, trying to wake back up, wait, did I just... Eeeewwww! The fox’s eyes went wide, and, lightly shaking his head, tried to reassert control over his body.
“Uh uh uh, none of that now,” Kyle said with a smile, a small remote in his hand, “I’m in control, remember?” he said, and turned a dial. The patterns and moving subliminal whirls sped up, dazzling his eyes and jerking him back to obedience. Deadly’s boxers shortly came down, revealing his naked foxhood to the cougar, who was watching him with a grin. “Down on your hands and knees, now,” he said, and Deadly helplessly obeyed, bowing his head low and crawling shamelessly, naked to the fur, over to his captor, who had his pants down to his knees, and was carefully stroking his half erect feline member.
N-noo... Deadly’s mind said, his jaw loping open, tongue lolling with expectation of what he was going to do, not like this...
“You want this?” the cougar said, smirking, and sat on the edge of the chair, thick, throbbing member hanging free, “Suck my cock, foxy. Suck it now, and do a good job. Don’t leave me wanting, now.”
Deadly leapt at the chance to obey, and, jaws wide, took the long, meaty cock into his maw, careful to keep his teeth behind his hackles and not nip him. The fox gripped his master’s sides as he sucked, the cock getting harder, stiffer in his mouth. He ran his well textured tongue up and down the cougar’s length, his conscious mind screaming, No! No! Stop, please! He tried to resist, to pull away from the dick in his mouth, but was overpowered completely and utterly.
Kyle put both his hands onto the back of the fox’s head, pushing and pulling him back and forth onto his thrusting dick moaning with a lusty sexual appetite that simply couldn’t be sated with a willing partner. Deadly’s subconscious was happy to oblige him, and used his lips and tongue to great effect. Deadly swiped his tongue back and forth on the red, throbbing cock, and, removing it from his mouth entirely, licked it from base to tip, over and over again while the cougar moaned and purred, hanging on to the chair for dear life.
The cougar gave one final grunt, jerked forward, lobbing his iron-stiff cock right between Deadly’s jaws, and loosed four or five bursts of hot, sticky white liquid against the back of the foxes throat, which he promptly swallowed.
“Good boy,” Kyle said, and slumped back in his chair, panting, “but I’m not done with you, yet. Let’s see that asshole, eh? Get over my desk, and don’t make a mess.” The cougar had recovered himself rather quickly. Only a minute had gone by after his ferocious orgasm and already he was sitting back up straight, and watching Deadly wriggle on the floor in the extasy that the goggles were providing him for his obedience. “Hey, chop chop. I’m horny, here.”
Kyle pulled out the remote again, and turned down the reward systems, watching as Deadly stopped squirming, inwardly disappointed at the pleasure he was being denied. His ears perked unwillingly as the big, burly predator on the office chair gave an order, and, once again, Deadly’s body acted of its own volition, got to its feet, the fox’s conscious mind fighting it every inch, and, heedless of his pitiful resistance, prostrated him over the glass and metal modernity of the great mass that was the cougar’s place of work.
“Hehe, quite the quarry you’ve got there,” Kyle said, and inspected the fox’s exposed asshole, tail eagerly raised for anyone to see, “and so tight. When was the last time you got taken by another man. Eh, Foxy?”
The cougar didn’t wait another second before lining up his still saliva coated member, and thrusting deeply into the fox’s tight tailhole. Deadly screamed inwardly, and tried to resist... to do anything... with all his will and strength and effort exhausted, it was hopeless. The fox, emotionally and physically wasted, only managed to curl his fingers around the table as he was taken up the ass by a champ. In a sad sort of way, being forced to suck the cougar off first made penetrating him afterwards much easier, and less painful on Deadly’s end. Kyle, however, knew his business. He yanked up Deadly’s tail, and plunged his dripping cock deeper and deeper with every regular thrust.
“Come on, moan for me, foxy!” Kyle said, and roughly took him hard with a harsh thrust dead center between his cheeks. Deadly’s body, no longer his own, released all the pent up sexual tension that had built up in one long, craving moan as the cougar reached climax once more, and shoved his dick one last time into the now well used ass, spurting a boiling burst of cumshots right inside of him, which, as the throbbing cock was withdrawn, slowly flowed back out, and ran down the back to Deadly’s thighs.
Deadly, humiliated, sore in the rear, and, as ever, helpless to ignore the bright, flickering colors that danced before his eyes, rose to his feet at Kyle’s beckoning, and watch the well satisfied Cougar get his dress pants back on, a luxury which he denied the fox.
Fully dressed, Kyle left Deadly standing naked and used over his desk while he picked up a phone, saying, “Yeah. I’m done with this one, send in a tech or something to deal with him. I’m spent,” and slumped back into his leather executive chair as, of all things, a blue feline wearing a lab coat entered, and walked over to where Kyle was standing, “Put this one through the ringer. Full processing, further testing, and keep him on site,” he said, “Deadly, you belong to him,” he pointed to the blue cat, “do as he says,” and handed off the remote control to the tech. In the meantime Deadly, who, resistance shattered, was as helpless as a newborn kit, was rewarded for his pointless struggle by having his right thumb habitually lodged in his muzzle. Kyle, memory jogged by the sight of a fully grown fox sucking his thumb like a toddler, gave one last order to the tech as Deadly was led out the door, “Oh, and make sure you get that one a pacifier. He’s got an oral fixation like you wouldn’t believe,” and then the door shut behind him, and Deadly was being led down the dimly lit hallway by the wrist, the tech leading the naked fox at a hurried pace.
At the end of a hallway was a room very reminiscent of a toddler nursery gone horribly askew. It had all the toys, colourful hangings, plastic furniture, and diaper changing stations that might have been expected in such a place. The only thing out of place was the cubs, a dozen or more of them, all in diapers, pacifiers, onesies and sleepers, playing mindlessly with toys, plushies, and many other typically cubby items. Some played together, others, on their own. It was an image of absolute bliss, except for one thing: the cubs weren’t cubs. They were adults, ranging from eighteen to thirty, some of them Deadly even recognised from the waiting room... and, thusly, Deadly caught a glimpse of his fate.
“N-nnnoooo!” he whimpered, the fear, anger, and hopelessness all unleashing itself in a torrent of backed-into-a-corner syndrome, and, for the first time since the goggles had been put on him, Deadly moved of his own free will, for all of a full two minutes. To his credit, in that time he managed to stir up the whole nursery, knock several things over, and get a changing station between the tech and himself, before the blue feline took out the remote, turned the dial, and sent Deadly promptly back to dreamland.
When finally his conscious mind recovered from the trauma, he found himself lying naked on one of the changing stations, all the cum cleaned out of his fur, an unfolded diaper beneath his sore tailhole, and his thumb stuck right back between his jaws. The tech, wielding a bottle of talcum, powdered down his loins thoroughly, and, flipping the rather impressive diaper up between his legs, taped it in place firmly. Next, and with complete nonchalance, the tech walked over, yanked Deadly’s thumb from his maw, and stuck a bright pink pacifier with a cartoon character on the shield into its place. The fox had never felt more relieved in his life, than when he first suckled on the latex nipple.
“Okay, time for some fun,” the tech said in a warm, singsong voice, and, ears perked, Deadly hopped down onto the ground in response, “but first, I need you to relax, buddy, this’ll only take a few minutes.”
Oh no... no, no, please. God, no... Deadly thought, the tech explicitly showing him the button that he was about to press: REPROGRAM.
The feline’s finger went down on the button, and the images on the back of the goggles bursting into furious motion, reds and blues and greens, all swirling together and apart and together again, a brilliant vertigo of abstract volition. The visual suggestions’ effects were as powerful as they were instant. Deadly’s eyes went wide and he slumped down onto his padded behind, his drowning consciousness thrashing minute after minute like a drowning swimmer, before finally going under the surface... down... down... gone.
The tech came back over a few minutes later, and removed the goggles. Blinking frequently, the fox that had once been Deadly looked up, suckling on his pacifier, at the tech, who grinned back down at him, “Hi there, cutie. Have some fun, you’re missing playtime.”