F.E.T.I.S.H. Ray Tales - Lockdown Ch. 01

Disclaimer:

This story is purely fictitious and not suitable for anyone that is below the legal age in their country to view pornographic material. All characters involved in the story are either the age of eighteen or older, and belong to myself. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred. Reader discretion is advised.

Author's Note:

I'd like to give a special thanks to Fidget for allowing me to create a story based on their wonderful 'F.E.T.I.S.H. Ray Tales' universe. The concept behind the 'Raygun' being used in this particular tale was entirely created by them. The characters in the prologue are from my story 'Edward's Laboratory', which has nothing to do with anything, really. I just thought it'd be fun to use a few of them for the unimportant metaplot. (=

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"STOP THE FUCKIN' PRESSES."

... What?

"Fidget gave us the green light to write a 'F.E.T.I.S.H. Ray Tale'!"

Oh, neat... It's not like we don't have any other stories to complete at the moment, but yeah, I suppose we can derail from the course once more.

"Exactly! We'll get to them eventually. Right now, it's time to merge Fidget's universe with our own!

This isn't officially canon, folks. Don't listen to our pushy dialogue here.

"Whatever you say, toots. The readers will decide what's true or not for themselves."

... Toots?

"Well, you are a chick, right?"

I'm-... We're just text. I was unaware gender was relevant, in our case.

"I mean, you're the passive one, so I just assumed."

You know what they say about assuming. It makes an ass out of you an-

"Shut up."

No. Do you identify as anything?

"Is 'attack helicopter' still offensive in today's climate? Because, honestly, that'd be fuckin' rad."

I have no idea, nor do I care. Either way, I'd rather you weren't such a thing. There's no way that you'd use your capabilities for any sort of good.

"Duh. I'd be a goddamn killing machine! Built for murder and mayhem and blood and fire and-!

Welp, our time is up, folks. It's time for the show!

"Rude... All hail Fidget!"

That too!

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Prologue:

The Dangers of Sleep Deprivation

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"Honey, I'm home!" Edward proudly announced as he burst through the front door of the Vett family's household.

Silence was the only thing polite or caring enough to respond, and the tall, grim-faced scientist's shoulders slumped in disappointment. He sighed, then walked down the short opening hallway and past the empty kitchen, straight into the living room. Who, might he add, were a couple of lazy idiots that could've easily entertained his hilarious entrance line.

"Oh, hey Uncle Eddy. I thought you were-... Uh..." Dennis, his eighteen-year-old nephew, began. He was sitting in the center of the couch in just a pair of grey sweatpants, his eyes going wide as soon as they looked up to Edward.

"Duuude! What happened to you?!" Tammy said, layng longways across the couch with her stomach over Dennis' lap. The creamy cleavage of her full, basketball-sized tits was on open display as they pressed into the sofa cushion beside him. When her slender arms pressed down into the sofa next to those bulbous, milky orbs in surprise and lifted her torso up somewhat, they swayed and jiggled under her with unrealistic, jelly-like physics. Edward noted she was wearing one of the two gene-altering bracelets around her wrist that he had gifted to the twins next door.

Well, that answered a few questions about "Tammy" that Edward didn't care enough to ask about.

For a split-second, Dennis made a frustrated, panicked expression and made sure to place a hand on her lower back and keep her midsection forced down over his crotch, as if he were trying to hide something, like his molecularly-supersized erection.

Like Edward gave a shit, which he didn't, he thought to himself with a roll of his eyes, standing in the living room's entryway with his long, white labcoat in tatters, stained with dry blood, and had dark soot covering nearly every inch of his clothes and uncovered flesh... but not the spotless, leather briefcase in his left grip.

"I did a 'Secret Shopper' thing to an old acquaintance of mine at one of their company's new retail stores in Imperial City... Pretty sure I won." He said, a weak smile appearing across his tired face.

The attractive teenagers just stared at him in silence for a few moments with blank, wide-eyed expressions.

"Do you even know what 'Secret Shopper' means, Uncle Eddy?" The tall, shirtless, barrel-chested, and extremely muscular Dennis asked.

"Nope." Edward simply said. "I did manage to buy one of the original models of their raygun before my cover was blown, though. Right before that cheeky retail worker got lippy about my hair." Dennis and Tammy's faces each followed the overly-sensitive, bald-headed Edward as he slowly walked on over towards his brother-in-law's recliner and plopped his dirty self down onto it, a light cloud of smoke poofing outward as a result. "I will admit, having an automated flamethrower ready and waiting behind the counter was unexpected. Kudos to them for at least trying to deal with the competition in style."

"What kind of a store has a flamethrower? That sounds awesome, aha." Tammy lazily said as she glanced back towards her fuck-buddy for a second, her and Dennis' eyes both as red as the Devil's big, floppy dick.

"Sounds like the only kind of store you'd shop at, to be honest." Dennis nodded. "So that's where you've been for the past week."

Edward brought up and set the briefcase in his lap, then turned to meet his nephew's eyes. "Where I've been is not important, and I honestly just decided to stop by there on my way back here from Cuba."

"Cuba?" Zoey, Edward's tall, beautiful, flat-chested, labcoat-wearing, and (clearly) gothic intern asked as she entered from the main hallway with her arms crossed and face scrunched up in frustration. "Last week, all you said before leaving was that you were going to the store for a pack of smokes."

"For a pack of damn good smokes." Edward said, his expression as serious and stoic as ever, but was cut short by Zoey's bizarre sense of newfound impatience. "And for half the price of a-"

"Do you know how many orders have piled up since you've been gone? I've been working my ass off since you left!"

"None! What the hell are you talking about?!"

"The Lab's phone has been ringing constantly!" Zoey screeched.

"I unplugged it, you lying bitch!" Edward roared back in retaliation.

"NO YOU DIDN'T! OR, YOUR STUPID ASS MUST'VE FORGOT, JUST LIKE YOU DO WITH EVERYTHING ELSE IN YOUR WORTHLESS LIFE!"

"OH, BOO-FUCKIN'-HOO! DID I MAKE A SILLY LITTLE MISTAKE?! AT LEAST I DIDN'T WIPE OUT HALF OF CUBA BY UNLEASHING A BRAIN-EATING VIRUS ON THE POPULATION!"

"... Is that what that button did?" Zoey asked, her fearsome, furious, red-face shifting back to its natural paleness in a flash.

"Nah... It got you to calm down though, didn't it?"

Zoey's shoulders slumped in both astonishment, and defeat.

"By the way, where were you when I first came in? That back-and-forth would've been perfect."

"Uh, Uncle Eddy?" Dennis asked, having snatched the briefcase from Edward's lap during the shouting match, now actively sifting through its plain, unimpressive contents of business clothes with his topless, large-breasted, rasta-beanie-wearing friend. "Where's that ray gun you were talking about?"

Edward and Zoey's gaze both snapped towards where Dennis and Tammy were sitting, the two of them covered in a stranger's clothing as they turned the suitcase upside-down to completely empty it.

It took a moment for Edward to realize that the briefcase he had left the store with had also been as dirty and burnt as himself, but he had also been too exhausted to recognize that the pristine one he snatched at the airport's luggage area may not have been his own at the time of leaving the airport.

"... Oh, goddamn it." Edward said, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees while one hand rubbed at the bridge of his nose.

"Let me guess, you grabbed the wrong bag at the airport. Why am I not surprised?"

"WhY aM i NoT sUrPrIsEd?!" Edward mocked his intern in a mentally-ill tone, who was being more of a condescending bitch than usual. Actually, Zoey never acted like this. "What the Hell has gotten into you?"

"It's her time of the month, I think." Tammy giggled, stoned out of her mind and without any consideration for her own well-being. "The crimson tide hits Zoey like a tru-..."

Tammy slumped over onto her giant tits just after a black, short-heeled shoe had been thrown at her, making impact with the short-haired brunette's temple.

Zoey stormed out of the room and back down the hallway with an exasperated growl/sigh, or whatever that disgruntled sound she made technically was.

"Nice shot." Edward called out to her, pulling out his phone from a pocket in his coat. "I guess I should call Trixie for a gadget extraction. She'd better not be busy, these rayguns can potentially cause as much havoc as my stuff can."

"What does it do, exactly?" Dennis asked, slapping an unconscious Tammy's large, wobbly cheeks like a set of bongo drums over the pair of jeans short-shorts she wore.

"Exactly what the name of the company implies. Functional Equipment To Improve Sexual Happiness, or 'F.E.T.I.S.H.' for short. Their iconic ray-gun naturally instills nearly any perversion into an individual's mind without them being aware of it, causing them to think that they've always been a fan of said perversion, and the slight memory-correction transition is virtually seamless. I planned on dissecting it to figure out how the reality-altering algorithm is coded... I also would've called it the 'Kink Kannon', but that's beside the point." Edward grumbled.

"Huh... Where do you think it wound up?"

"Dunno', don't care. Trixie'll figure it out, just like she always does." Edward shrugged, dialing his daughter's phone number. "At least we know it's either in or around town. That's more than she usually has to go on."

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Chapter 1:

Lockdown Blues

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"I'm sooo bored." Connie sighed, laying on her back in the middle of the living room floor. "Ugh."

"Yeah." Jerry agreed, sprawled out longways on the couch. "This lockdown is just as lame as the first one."

The pair of siblings let out audible sighs of frustration, unable to either go out and hang out with their friends or head to someplace like the mall just to kill time. It'd been over a year, and just when things appeared to be getting back to normal, the world was on the brink of completely shutting down again thanks to a mystery virus that wasn't much more deadly than the common cold. Hell, both teens had been vaccinated, twice, but that didn't count for much when more than half of the businesses around town were either closed or simply restricted people from interacting with each other in a fun way.

Connie, who was on the verge of turning twenty-years-old, was having a much harder time with being stuck at home than her younger brother, being the furthest thing away from an introvert as one could imagine.

Jerry, who had just recently become of age, was more than used to sitting around all day playing video games or watching WhoTube videos, but since the first city-wide quarantine had ended, the young man had learned to appreciate being outdoors and in social situations much more than before.

Sadly, it looked as though they were right back to where they started.

At least the two had each other to kill time with, sort of. Connie and Jerry got along pretty well, but neither of them really had much in common with the other. She'd tried to play video games with him in the past, but usually ends up getting frustrated and quitting in less than ten minutes. And Jerry, well, he's made attempts to sit around and gossip with his sister like she and her friends do, but his mind tends to drift off and stop listening not too long into her dramatic meandering.

"That's it!" Jerry said, abruptly jumping up from the couch, startling Connie in the process. "I can't take it anymore!"

"Would you stop yelling? Jeez." Connie groaned, then rolled over onto her stomach.

Jerry caught an eyeful of her braless, C-cup breasts as she did so, and tried his best not to stare for too long at the side-cleavage exposed under her outstretched arms from the cut-out of her loose, orange tank-top, or at the round, perky butt that was now on open display and only covered by a pair of basic, tight, white panties.

"I will, if you put some pants on." Jerry said as his shoulders slumped from pent-up, sexual exasperation while his member twitched and began swelling from within his navy-blue basketball shorts. "It's hard to tell which one of us is the pervert in this story when you're dressed like that."

"Maybe we're both perverts. Ever think of that?" She mumbled, a little too loudly.

"What?"

"What?"

"I'm home!" Called out their father, Victor Jordenson, as he opened the front door of their house and walked inside. In just a few seconds, the man entered the living room where his two offspring were hanging out, dressed in a red polo-shirt and beige, khaki pants. Connie had already been climbing to her feet at the sound of her father's voice, and jumped up onto the tall man to give him a big hug. "Whoa, hey there, sweetie!"

"I'm glad you made it back safe, dad." Connie said just before giving him a peck on the cheek and letting go of his neck. "Did you bring us anything back from Imperial?"

"Yeah!" Jerry blurted, suddenly excited by the reminder of a souvenir from a city full of the richest and most attractive people on the planet. That, and it's the only place in the world that sells super hi-tech equipment that can alter the minds and bodies in certain ways, primarily to either look more attractive and better in bed, from the rumors he's heard floating around the internet. It was unlikely that any of it was true, given that there's never been any direct video evidence of stuff like that actually happening, but Jerry enjoyed the fantasy nonetheless, and remained hopeful. "Was it as crazy as everyone says it is?"

Victor laughed at that. "I guess you could say that. It was definitely a nice change of environment, but I wouldn't say it was much different from LA."

The tall, brown-haired man set the dusty, soot-covered suitcase down in his chair and popped it open, only just then realizing how strange it was that his luggage had gotten so dirty on the flight.

"I did get you two a couple of things from a shop, though, and-..." Victor paused for a moment once the container opened, quickly figuring out that what he had there was, in fact, not his suitcase. "Ah, darn it!"

Connie and Jerry looked at their father with worried, curious expressions on their faces.

"What's wrong, dad?" Connie asked.

"Did you forget your hair-dye?" Jerry snickered.

"No, I- shut up." He said, shooting his son an annoyed glance. "My luggage got switched up at the airport." Victor said with a sigh, slowly untucking his shirt from the waistband of his pants, not bothering to dig further down into the case past the crumpled-up labcoat and numerous pairs of male undergarments. "That sucks... And I was really excited to show you two the shirts I brought home as souvenirs."

Connie and Jerry grimaced, almost thankful they didn't have to pretend to be grateful for such lame presents.

So much for crazy-fun magic sex tech, Jerry though with a frown.

"Do you want me to call the airport for you?" Connie offered, wearing a sympathetic mask on her face as she already began walking towards where her cellphone lay on the floor.

"If you don't mind, that'd be great, honey." Victor said with a yawn. "I could really use a shower and a nap, this jet-lag is killing me."

In just a few moments, Jerry was standing in front of the couch and gazing at his father's suitcase, while Connie had lazily laid back down on the carpet on her stomach and perched up on her elbows, waiting to get ahold of someone from the airlines.

Jerry shrugged, and out of pure boredom, wandered over to the open suitcase and pulled out the labcoat only after a few seconds of hesitation.

The stained, white stretch of clothing went all the way down to his feet, despite the fact he was holding the shoulders of it several inches above his head. Wow, he thought. Jerry was fairly tall, standing at 5'10, but it looked like the owner of the coat had at least four or five inches of height over him.

He chuckled, then folded it up better than it had been when sitting in the case, until he noticed something odd laying there in the center of a mess of dirty socks and underwear.

"Hm?" Jerry set the labcoat down on the arm of the recliner and reached in for the item in question, which turned out to be some kind of plastic, toy raygun, like something you'd see in the bargain bin at a discount store. He held it in front of his face and closely examined it, wondering why it was in this guy's suitcase.

Maybe it was a present for one of his kids, or it could be a-...

Holy shit, he thought, having found the dial located on the cheap-looking device, the one lined with around fifty different symbols that were made up of vaguely sexual images.

He'd heard of this thing before. A highly-advanced piece of hardware designed to overwrite significant portions of a person's thought-process and personality traits, created by a company known as F.E.T.I.S.H.. Jerry always forgot what the acronym stood for when the memory of it resurfaced, but the rumors of that raygun circulating online was his first introduction into the world of mysterious, perverted technology.

The thing he held in his hands certainly fit the description of it.

Was today his lucky day, or was this just another one of God's sick pranks?

There was only one way to find out...

"Alright... Yeah, no, that's pretty much what I expected to hear... Yes ma'am... Uh huh, you have a nice day as-"

Jerry, having set the dial to the symbol representing a pulled-up top revealing a pair of tits, stopped breathing for a short while after having aimed the gun towards Connie and pulled the flimsy trigger.

Her entire body froze for a few seconds and the whole of her figure became wrapped in a magnificent, golden light.

It was real, he thought to himself as a thin trail of drool began to leak from his slightly open mouth.

Once the light faded and she began speaking again, Jerry was blown away that she hadn't noticed that anything had just happened to her, and quickly tucked the gun away in the back of his shorts' waistband.

"-as well." Connie said, then dropped her phone back onto the floor and sighed. "They don't know where dad's stuff is. Apparently, the briefcase he brought home wasn't even registered, so they don't even know who it belongs to." Connie cocked a suspicious eyebrow at her brother, who was just standing by their father's chair and nervously staring at her with an erection.

"What?" She asked, still propped up on her elbows with her stomach and thighs pressed up against the carpet.

"Oh, uh..." Jerry stammered, doing his best to act casual as he slowly turned and walked back over towards the couch. He was careful sitting down, making sure that the raygun wouldn't go off by accident due to him moving in a way that he shouldn't. Just as he plopped down, Connie was climbing back up to her feet. "I was just wondering, can I see your tits?"