In truth, I was making pretty good time. The sun was up but it hadn’t started really heating things up, yet. I figured I could reach the cave before temperatures started to really rise, thus avoid needing the AC. This hunk of junk would get all freaky, if I used that.
Which is what it had done outside the motel, a couple weeks ago. A Latino man and his young helper had stopped to look for some water, only to find the motel’s faucet was rusted solid and the water in the toilet basins had long been evaporated. Guess that happens when you’ve been abandoned for forty years.
The older of the two was in his thirties and a bit chunky, while the younger one was probably fresh from across the border. Lean, nice-looking, big eyes and a trim body. They climbed up the hill behind the motel to see if they could locate a lake or river, but this was next to Death Valley so not happening.
Since I was off hunting, the Beast slipped up on them, from behind, and caught the man with no trouble. They kid pulled a knife and cut at the tentacles holding him, but to no use. The Beast didn’t feel pain like we do, and the last time a tentacle was cut off it merely grew back, like a gecko’s tail.
So the kid was caught, too, and it brought them down to be held in place by the cords as the Beast sent me a message to return.
I’d already caught a guy in Vegas...some kind of show dancer or something, a real side of pumped up beef...and was headed back. I couldn’t go too fast because I was in Charley’s ratty old pickup and the front end was finally threatening to give out if I went over sixty. Still, I made decent time.
The older guy had been handed straight over to the wall in the usual way, and for once I got the sense that the craft was well satiated. The Beast, however, was not completely happy. Or not full or something. Whatever the issue, it was not happy.
Only I noticed every one of the craft's cords had been withdrawn...except for those that were holding the kid in place. And it only reluctantly took on controlling the dancer. It was like it didn’t want to assist in the ritual, anymore, and Beast was arguing with it. I don’t really know because it was only the Beast that ever communicated with me.
So it refused to let me have fun with either of the guys while it had its back and forth with the craft. I mean I could still fondle them both. Through their clothing. Not strip them. Which was difficult to keep from doing. The kid was in just a t-shirt, 501s and boots and looked so sweet...while muscles was in tight gym-wear that would so lovely to shred. I still managed to nibble their tits through the material, and feel them up and jack off next to them...so long as my cum didn’t land on any part of their body or clothes. The Beast was a bit weird about that.
Problem is, doing that made me really, really hungry. Seems the fucking and sucking is what fed my needs at the same time it fed the Beast and the craft. Like swallowing their cum gave me all the sustenance I needed...and I was ready for a meal. Now. Now, now, now!
But the Beast didn’t care; it just sent me to my room. That was a side cave, where I had a bed made up of all the shredding clothing from the men we’d feasted upon. It didn’t exactly look like something out of a home design magazine, but it was comfortable.
There was also an underground waterfall that came from an overhanging rock and splashed away to disappear into a small crevice, close by. I used that to bathe and wash my clothes in. Icy cold but so real. This was also how I got water enough for that van to get me to an auto supply store for coolant. Then I always made sure to have at lead four gallons of both in a bin in the back. It worked.
So off I went, muttering and unhappy. I did my shower and cleaned my clothes, and the moment I lay down, I fell dead asleep. Had a great sleep. And the next day, the Beast brought me back to assist with its next meal.
I saw it force-feed some of the serum to the dancer by shoving a tentacle into his mouth, putting him into a rather lovely trance. Then the cords brought the kid to the platform.
He didn’t struggle, scream or shout like the others had. And all he seemed to know was Spanish, which I’m not good at. He did yelp as I tore away his shirt. And jeans. And boxers. Once he was naked he seemed even younger than I’d initially thought. Like about eighteen or so.
The whips got to work on his dick, helped along by the tentacles caressing his smooth skin and colt-like legs. He wasn’t overly-developed, but he did have these lovely, brown, perfectly-round tits. Just a hint of hair around them. Kissing and licking and pulling at them with my teeth felt so nice. That he also grunted when I got too intense added to the beauty of the moment.
Finally, I shifted down his trim belly and soft treasure trail to work on his dick. He wasn’t fully hard, yet, but I soon got that to change as I continued to pinch his nips and caress his body as my lips and tongue stroked him in ways that could drive any man crazy with need. For some reason, neither the cords nor the tentacles pushed into his mouth.
Even then, he didn’t struggle; he just tensed, in place. And soon he was growing and letting me have complete control of his dick. He wasn’t all that big, just nice-sized and had kept himself clean...and I really did love the feel of him in my mouth. His breathing and his groans began to pace my sucking...and his ass clenched...and soon he let me take him completely over the edge.
He shot a lot more than I expected. I struggled to swallow it all but did, like a greedy little pig, and it had a truly sweet taste. I actually looked forward to the next session with his dick.
The tentacles lifted his legs and he looked even prettier, like that. Made me harder than ever. The whips kept drifting all over me but I was the one who decided when to push into his hole, and that did make him whimper in pain.
God, he was so tight, fucking him was like the first time I’d done it. He was still too scared to move much, and I loved how smooth and neatly formed his legs were. How tight his ass was. How he barely grunted as I fucked him.
Oh my God, the feel of him around me. Clenching despite himself. The occasional jolt when I went too hard. I could have kept on forever. When I finally came in him he only moaned and shook his head in disbelief.
As did I. Because for the first time I’d enjoyed fucking a guy who wasn’t fighting me. Wondered if I might try it, again, sometime...after the Beast was gone.
Sucking him off a second time was also fairly easy. And just as sweet. And without a fight. When he went into the wall, it was almost with resignation...on both his part and mine.
Somehow I’d known the dancer would not be as much fun. Nor was he, when we took him a few days later. Fighting. Cursing. Howling. Doing everything he could to keep me from enjoying myself, not really understanding all he was doing was making it more fun, for me.
What was even better? He’d been muscular enough to make both the Beast and the craft truly happy. No more fighting, and that made me happy.
So the next one I took was from Vegas, as well.
