Even monsters need to follow at least some of the rules of reality. The main one being -- don't draw too much attention to yourself. That would call down a lot of questions that you simply do not want to deal with.
Like the most basic ones -- who was the Beast? Where was it from? Had it done this before? How many men had it taken? Why were there no bodies to be found? Why was I helping it? Crap that I had no solid answers to.
I mean, I could make some guesses. For instance, I don’t it’s been here before, because it had such trouble figuring out how to make a helper and work out the best way to feed.
As for no bodies? I didn’t really know if that would be the case. What if it left the bones behind? Well...that could answer how many men I’d brought to it. Truth was, I’d lost count.
As for why I was helping the Beast? Shit, it brought me back to life after Molinaro killed me. It had removed all the lies I’d been telling myself. Helped me see that the thing I’d been missing with fucking girls was they weren’t guys. Apparently, I was seriously deep in the closet, especially since my pack had been assholes when it came to queers. Even their wives and girls hated faggots, as they loved to put it.
Spitting shit like that was not really acceptable, these days, but leave it to my pack to be stuck in that last century crap. Which is why I’d never said anything to them about my feelings. Just rolled my eyes and kept dealing with girls on a superficial basis.
I sort of wondered if that was the reason I didn’t feel anything when they were killed, but I had to say, No. Because even the guys I’d been capturing, since...the only real emotion I’d felt was pride in the hunt going well.
And hunger.
Wait...was hunger an emotion? I couldn’t be sure.
I mean, it hadn’t been just a need to provide food for both Beast and craft, but also a physical want on my part. The desire to fuck and suck on a man. Didn't care if he didn't want it. That moralistic attitude was no longer part of my psyche.
Besides, for some reason that enhanced the effect of the meal, for them, and when they were happy...for want of a better word...I was happy. If they’d had enough to eat, so had I.
Well, I was bringing them plenty to feast upon, now, and was looking forward to the next meal.
I swung onto the 190, another two-lane piece of shit that really needed repaving, then followed its twisty-turny ways up into the hills. Not pushing too hard; the shocks on this van were getting to be kind of wobbly.
Unfortunately, Greg and Tom still rolled around in the back like rag dolls. I didn’t want them bruised or damaged before the feast, so I made myself pull off the road.
I bound and gagged Tom with the tape...and took a quick peek at his dick. Man, was it so fucking inviting. Long and fat, cut, and with the heaviest balls I’d ever felt. Damn, I was hungrier for him than Greg, now, and wanted to...
Hold it...no...no...
I looked at his left hand and saw it.
A wedding ring! He was fucking married!
That was something I’d been really careful about – no married men. I mean, yeah, Jack and Winn had been married, but it was the Beast that had taken them, and it had gotten their wives, too. All done without my input. Since then, I’d been careful about that. But now Tom had a woman who’d push to find him as well as a witness who’d say he’d been kidnapped. No way to explain that away.
I might as well have called the cops, myself, on me.
Oh, SHIT, was I kicking myself for this blunder.
Maybe I wouldn’t turn him over to the Beast. Just give it Greg. Then I could dump Tom back in town...after I’d had some fun with him, of course. Can’t let beauty like his go unmolested.
That actually might work. And if I could find some peyote, he wouldn’t know what to tell anybody about anything, let alone what had really happened. The guy I used to get pot from once told me he had some. And I still had Charley’s old pickup hidden in the cave. Nobody’d be looking for that.
I caressed Tom’s ass and thighs, loving how the hair on his legs tickled my fingers, then sighed and reminded myself of how little time I had left to get to the cave. I’d have to think about this, later. Right now, I just didn’t want them bouncing around in the back of the van.
So I rolled Greg onto his back against the side of the van. Gave his dick a fondle. Then I laid Tom on top of him. Dick to dick. I wrapped tape around them, together, then tied it to the frame, first at their chests and then their knees, affixing them to the wall. That would cut down on the rolling about.
Then I jumped back behind the wheel and headed on down the 190.
Now I had to figure out how to work this around the Beast.
