In gold.
The second I asked myself that question, the Beast answered in my head. Then it put a kind of orangish rock in my hand.
“Have this tested to see if it will work within your monetary system,” it actually said.
“How?” I asked. “I’m an escaped convict. Death row. Probably already on the FBI’s most wanted list, thanks to you. I can’t go looking for somebody to tell me what kind of rock this is.”
“Dirc, if you whine and make excuses, this will not work for my endeavor, and I will return you.”
“Not eat me?” popped out before I could stop it.
Suddenly, I was flat on the table and the whips and cords were holding me down...and removing my prison clothes. And I do mean removing, not tearing.
The Beast was no longer a pretty man but itself, in cold and vicious meaning despite the beauty of its whispery moves. Sharp pings of color burst through its main body, making it even more alive. Joyous. Terrifying.
By this point, I was completely stripped. Not one thread of material on me. And a cord was fondling my dick and balls as two of the whips caressed my tits and a tentacle slipped into my ass and wiggled its way up my insides. It was so fucking erotic, I felt like I was hallucinating.
It kept up for at least a couple minutes, making me hard as a rock...which was not a good idea. Because when it flipped me over onto my belly so the whips and cords and tentacles could feel me up even more, my dick did not like being pushed down, under me.
Then another tentacle worked its way into my mouth and deep into my throat. Feeling a lot like a dick, but longer and thicker than I’d ever had. What’s insane is, I didn’t choke on it.
Suddenly, everything pulled out of me, and away, and I was left to lie on the table, shivering from all the sensations I’d just been forced to feel. My dick pounding with need. I looked at Stud with what I’m sure was an animalistic level of need and lust and want, because he freaked out when he saw my face.
I want this bitch face down, slammed into my thoughts.
And so he was flipped over. Still fully dressed.
Damn, but his ass looked so fucking glorious, this way, as he twisted and fought. Two round mountains shifting and clenching under the black material. His massive legs trying so hard to find some way of letting him rise. The meaning of inviting.
I got off the table, my dick all but screaming, USE ME, and grabbed both cheeks to massage them through his pants.
Oh, he did not like that. But the tentacles held him in place, and I got to squeeze them and run my thumbs along the seam between them...and work my fingers into his back pockets and tear them down to reveal a pair of lovely gray boxer briefs.
I looked at Cowboy; he was screaming like a little girl and fighting the tentacles. Especially the one in his mouth. The Kid was just watching, frozen in horror.
And looking truly adorable, doing it. I knew, right then, I wanted more than one go at him.
I felt one of the tentacles probe back up my ass, adding to the beauty I was feeling. Because the cords were also groping my cheeks. The whips danced above me then joined in to wrap around and pull at my tits. Toyed with the pierced one. Trailed down the center of my belly and back up, again, with a delicacy that was both depraved and erotic. Son-of-a-bitch, this all got me going so hard, I needed to fuck.
Stud still had a tentacle in his mouth, and it sounded like he was gargling some religious bullshit, asking for forgiveness and pleading he be sent to heaven. What an idiot. Way too late for that bullshit.
I shoved his utility belt up his back, along with his shirt tail, then grasped the boxers and tore them open, leaving the elastic band intact. Ripped at them to reveal his ass. It quivered before me. Soft hair dancing up the elegant cheeks. I mauled them for a moment, even as my own ass was being massaged, then I climbed onto the table, positioned myself between his legs, aimed my dick at his hole, and dropped forward to push it in, trying to slow and easy.
He screamed and tried to clench too tight for me to enter, but that wasn’t gonna happen. Nor could he shift away. I shoved myself in to the hilt. Felt my pubes brush against his skin, almost like I was being tickled, and I started pumping.
Hard and fast.
In and out and in and out.
It didn’t take me long to cum, I was so primed. And when I did, this wave of ecstasy crashed over like the first time I ever did coke. It filled every fiber of my being. Eyes, nose, tits, toes, balls...you name it, they tingled.
I had no thoughts. Can’t even say for certain I was breathing. I just wanted to lie there, on top of him, molded to his back and ass. My dick still in him. But I felt myself float into the air and drift across to my table. And then I was lying there, unable to think, speak, or move in any way.
A picture came together above me...like a movie screen. It focused and revealed it was of the Stud, but like it was being shot from above, in real time. The whips and cords removed his shoes...then his pants...then his utility belt and body cam...then turned him onto his back to yank off his shirt and shred his tee-shirt. Last was tearing off the remains of his boxer briefs, making him as naked as me. His eyes were glassy and his expression blank, as if he was in shock. His amazingly overbuilt body looked impossibly erotic. His full pecs heaving, as was his six-pack. His perfect legs in perfect compliment to the rest of him, with just the right amount of hair on them. And his dick...almost hard and lying to the left.
The tentacle in his mouth slipped away, leaving behind some of its fluid. Like cum dribbling down his cheek. Then it wrapped around his dick and almost seemed to be sucking on it.
It wasn’t. It was stroking it, up and down like my hand might have done. A cord fondled Stud’s balls as a couple of whips massaged his thighs and those beautiful tits of his, and in moments he ejaculated. Still with no change of expression.
Then one tentacle rubbed his cum atop his belly and vanished back into the wall.
The picture went away. By this point I was able to look over at Stud and see him just lying there, motionless, staring at the ceiling. For a moment, I wanted to hold him like you do a lover, he was so gorgeous, like that. His dark skin an elegant contrast to the bright pastels of the walls. His sweat gleaming under the gentle lights.
I noticed Cowboy wasn’t here, anymore. And The Kid...it looked like he had passed out. Probably couldn’t take what he’d seen. And probably knew I was going to do it to him, too, eventually. That thought brought a nice warm feeling to me.
Then the tentacles picked up Stud and carried him to the wall, where he was swallowed whole. I sighed. It looked like he was acceptable sustenance, now, but I would have liked a bit more time with him.
Not possible. Time is too tight, at the moment.
I rose to my elbows and saw Adonis standing at the base of the table. Still naked and fucking gorgeous.
“What was that all about?” I asked. “Raping me while I raped him?”
“It is about us having a clearer understanding of you,” he said, “and the effect you have on the men you use.”
“Fucking with their heads?”
“No. It is your biological and chemical makeup. You have become something other than human.”
I sat upright, feeling stronger than I’d ever felt in my life. “I’ve noticed some changes in me, but non-human?”
“More than. You did not fully die when you were struck by that bullet. I sensed you might be good fuel, so maintained your existence at a minimal level. My plan was to provide you as sustenance to my craft, only. However, it was not enjoying the fuel I provided until I brought you back to life, during which I noticed the difference in your biological makeup. I used you to see if you would enhance the others. And having your semen in them made them acceptable to my craft. As its strength returned to it, we rebuilt and had no further need of humans for sustenance towards the end.”
“Nice of you to let me know. The last two got me caught. If I hadn’t thought you needed—”
“You needed them, Dirc. Not us. You would have taken them or someone else, to continue feeding yourself...”
“What the fuck’re you talkin’ about?”
“Did you not feel the need for satisfaction in prison? Several men were taken by you. In much the same way as here, correct?”
He got me, there. So I shrugged. “What does that mean? Did I turn into some kind of vampire who lives off men’s cum?”
“What a simplistic way of putting it. Can you not maintain some semblance of intelligence with any consistency?
I huffed but also took in a deep breath. I was dealing with something that was probably a thousand times smarter than me so I needed to kick my A game into gear.
“Okay, okay,” I said. “I still eat regular food. In fact, I could really go for a nice prime rib and baked potato, right now. So I don’t live by sucking off a guy. Not physically, anyway. And I don’t think it’s just a psychological or emotional need, because I don’t do it all that often. It's just...it's something that comes over me. I don’t know anything about any philosophies like...like existentialism or...”
“Existentialism is a philosophical movement that stresses the individual's unique position as a self-determining agent responsible for making meaningful, authentic choices in a universe seen as purposeless or irrational.”
Shit, like he’s reading it out of a dictionary.
“You sayin’ that’s me, now? I’m all French and lost in ennui? It’s not just my DNA’s all screwed up? Decoded?”
“No. I merely point out the obvious nonsense of such a thought. Your DNA...as what you call your physiological map...was made stronger, due to my willingness to keep you alive. And the manner in which I did so. As you can see.”
Then I walked out of the translucent wall, naked as I was, right now.
That shook me up, because I knew for a fact I was still sitting on that table.
You are. This is a replica of you. I believe you refer to them as clones. It will take your place at the site of the bus crash.
"Wait, am I a clone of me, too?" And I actually had a hand over my heart in a very melodramatic pose.
Part of your spine and a lung are, nothing more."
Holy shit...maybe I should change my name to Terminator.
I got off the table and went to look at myself. But everything about me was perfect, right down to my pierced nipple and cut dick. Only I did not look back.
I felt myself up, checking the heft of my dick, and asked, “Can he get hard?” I wanted to see how big I looked to someone who was not me.”
“Those mechanisms were not considered essential, and would have added time to the development.”
Without a word, the me who was not me collected my clothes and dressed itself. In moments, he was me being transported to be executed. Then the whips and cords attacked him, tearing his skin and the prison uniform, making him bleed.
I know it wasn’t me they were doing it to, but I still winced and grimaced and gritted my teeth, even though he was taking it without a response. Then he was taken back into the wall and that screen appeared before me to show him lying halfway in the aqueduct, caught in debris, not that far from the truck stop. The chains were back in place, and he was slathered in mud and looked really beat up.
A guy on the other side of the aqueduct saw me and yelled to a nearby crew. The ground was still muddy and the bus still on its side, as were a couple of other cars, so apparently they were there to investigate the accident. They ran over. An ambulance joined them. And I was hauled out of the water.
Then the screen vanished.
“Am I dead?” I asked.
“No,” said Adonis, “you are accounted for. Now shall we discuss your new existence?”
