Foster sat in the back seat, his arms folded across his chest. “I thought we were going to wrestle,” he said, his lower lip thrust out. “I want to wrestle Jack. We still haven’t wrestled since you came back to town.”
“Jesus, Fost, haven’t you been listening to a word we’ve said?” David knocked Foster upside the head. “There’s some sort of monster on the loose.”
Chris twisted around in his seat. “You saw the video.”
Foster sighed. “I want to wrestle. Let’s go to David’s house.”
Jack, who was driving, looked at Chris. “Can we just let him out someplace around here?”
“I wish,” said Chris. “But I wouldn’t hand even him off to that thing. Who knows what it does once you’ve cum?”
“I wanna wrestle…”
“Does he ever stop?” Asked Jack.
“”I wanna WRESTLE!!!”
“Shut the fuck up!” Yelled Chris. Then, more calmly, to Jack, “Apparently not.”
“Is this it?” Jack was pulling up in front of a three-story Victorian just off River Street.
“Yeah, this is Spanky’s place.” Said Chris. “Pull up in the drive and I’ll check on him.”
“I wanna wrestle,” muttered Foster.
David leaned forward across the seat. “His front door is open…”
He was right. The front door stood open and a potted plant on the front porch had been over-turned.
Chris gripped Jack’s arm. “It could be here. Jesus! We…we have to fight it…!”
“Okay, okay, Chris. We will. Let’s all go in together. Stick together. Whatever this thing is, we’ll kill it or capture it or something…” Jack wasn’t really sure what they would do.
Jack put the car in park and he, Chris and David all got out. Foster remained in the backseat, his arms folded across his chest.
“C’mon, Foster, we need to stick together,” said David, leaning into the backseat.
“Are we gonna wrestle?” Asked Foster, looking straight ahead.
“No, Fost. We’re…we’re gonna look for this thing…this monster… So, come on.”
“No. If we’re not gonna wrestle, I’m not coming.”
“You can’t stay out here by yourself, Fost. What if that thing finds you?”
“No wrestling, no Foster.”
David looked back at Jack and Chris who were waiting up the walk. “He won’t come.”
“You hear that Foster? They don’t care if you get eaten or not.”
Foster just sat there.
“Fine. Have it your way, asshole.” David slammed the car door and joined Jack and Chris.
“Is he always a dick like that?” Asked Jack.
“Not, always,” said David. “But sometimes…”
“Come on,” said Chris. “He’ll be fine in the car. Let’s go check on Spanky.”
The three guys walked quietly up the walk and up the short flight of stairs to the front porch. The light from the street did not reach there and the front of the house was cast in gloom. The door was open, and there were scratches in the wood around the doorknob. Jack ran his hand over them, and cast a look back at Chris and David. He was scared, and he didn’t like the fact that the house was dark. If Spanky had been home, why weren’t any lights on?
Slowly, they walked into the front room. Jack’s heart was beating so hard it was difficult for him to settle down and listen to the house. But he tried, holding an arm out to keep Chris and David back.
Nothing. He heard nothing. Just the sound of distant cars on the freeway.
They all three took a step back.
“Where…?” That was all Jack could get out.
“I…I…don’t…” Chris couldn’t quite say.
“The basement,” said David. “That came from below us. How do you get to the basement, Chris?”
“Uh…I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I don’t know! Spanky’s into bondage and stuff. I’ve never been over here. Not inside, anyway.”
David pushed past them into the dark. “It’s got to be here someplace. Someone find a light.”
As David stumbled against an end table, Jack tried to find a light switch or a lamp. He found one, and clicked it on.
“I think the electricity’s been cut off,” he said, and he turned to Chris. Even in the dark they could see each other’s faces. “It turned off the lights? Can it do that?”
Chris nervously shrugged. “I…I…don’t know… I guess…”
“What the hell is this thing, Chris?”
Chris shook his head. “I don’t know, Jack.” Then, “Maybe we should leave. Call the police or something. We’re not the Hardy Boys.”
“More like the Hardly Boys.” Jack had to make a joke, otherwise he would have just run back out the door.
“I found it!” It was David, just down the hall. He was trying to keep his voice down, but he was plenty loud in the silent house. “C’mon you guys!”
Jack and Chris looked at each other and then moved deeper into the house. Entering a hallway, the gloom increased, and it took them a minute for their eyes to adjust. David was standing in front of an opened door. In front of him, a square of blackness marked the stairs that led to the basement.
It took Jack a second to realize that someone was standing behind David. It was Foster. But how’d he get in into the house? Through a backdoor?
“Hey…” Jack started to say something, but then realized, it wasn’t Foster.
David suddenly disappeared into the darkness.
“Jesus!” Yelled Chris.
Jack raced forward and looked into the dark that led downward. “David! David!”
A figure rose up in front to of him, and Jack made a fist, ready to strike.
It was David. A goofy grin on his face.
“David! You scared the shit out of me, man… I was so…”
But it wasn’t David. It was Chris, standing there, naked. The transition was so startling that Jack was frozen in place. “Uh…?”
Behind him, Chris said, “Spanky, you’re okay. Thank God…”
The next few seconds were confused and disorienting. Chris was thrown backwards and the door slammed shut behind Jack. The darkness was so utterly overwhelming that Jack actually thought he saw stars, as though his eyes were closed. But then he realized that something was on him. Something had him.
He was on his butt on the landing of the stairs, and something was above him, leaning over him. And then he saw it. Chris. A younger, unbelievably muscled Chris. He was naked, and his body glistened with oil. Chris’ cock was so hard, Jack smiled, in spite of his terror. Man, he thought, Chris looks so good.
There was a banging on the door behind Jack, and he realized that it was far too dark for him to see anything. Then how could he see Chris?
He wasn’t. It was an image in his mind.
Banging on the door.
His jeans being undone. A warm hand slipping under the waistband of his briefs. Chris—or that thing--had his cock, and he was getting hard.
The voice was David’s and it sounded like it was coming from the bottom of the stairs. The banging was coming from the closed door behind Jack. Suddenly Jack realized what was happening. He kicked out with his foot and caught the thing that was there in front of him in the dark. There was a scream. A high-pitched wail. An insectoid screech that made Jack’s ears ring. Then there was a sound as of something heavy falling down the stairs. Jack got to his feet just as the door behind him hit him in the back. He hadn’t realized it, but he had been holding it closed because he’d fallen against it.
“Jack, what the hell…” Chris was reaching out and caught Jack by the shoulder. “Are you okay?” Then, “Are you…you?”
“Yeah, it’s me. I think it’s down there…” he pointed down the stairs but it was so dark, he doubted Chris could see his hand. “David’s down there…”
“David!” Yelled Chris.
“David!” Added Jack.
“I’m here…” David’s voice was strange. “I think I did something to my ankle…”
“It’s down there with you, Davey…” Said Jack. “If something comes to you and tries to get it on with you, it’s not us. Hit it. Just punch it. Okay?”
There was no answer. Jack’s breath caught in his throat and impulsively he bounded blindly down the stairs. As he hit the bottom, something caught his foot and sent him sprawling, painfully across the floor. Thankfully, it was carpeted. Not concrete as he’d expected. And he climbed to his feet as quickly as he could.
“David! Where are you, David!”
It sounded like Chris was coming down the stairs behind him, but slowly. Almost too slowly. Was it because he was so scared? Jack certainly was.
Jack took a step forward, feeling in front of him as best he could. David had to be here somewhere, but, then again, so did that thing. The darkness was so total in the basement. Even the feeble light from the top of the stairs did not penetrate far past the landing. Jack thought he could see Chris coming toward him, but he couldn’t be sure. Why wasn’t anyone speaking?
“Chris? Is that you? David?”
It took Jack a second to realize that something was on his leg. He brushed at it, but his hand came away wet. Was it blood? He smelled it, but before he could begin to figure out what was on his hand, he was pulled to his knees and his shirt was ripped open. He’d forgotten that his cock was still out from where the thing had unbuckled his jeans at the top of the stairs, and suddenly Jack felt something wrap itself around his cock. He tired to scoot backwards on his butt, but he came up against something. Maybe some furniture. Whatever it was that was on him, it was warm, and moist, and it was messaging his cock with furious intent.
Jack reached for it, but something caught his arm. Another warm, moist, coil of snakelike power that pulled his arm down. In another motion, his pants were pulled down and his briefs ripped off. His legs were pinioned and his chest was being wrapped up in the steely embrace of some sort of tentacled monster. Jack tried to break its hold but it had him, wrapping him up, working his cock, holding his arms in place.
Then, almost imperceptivity, Jack felt another tentacle work its way up the back of his leg and in between his ass cheeks. Jack gritted his teeth and the thing plunged into his rectum, and what had been a thin writhing snake expanded to become a huge, forceful cock that began pounding away at him.
He was caught. Absolutely helpless in this thing’s embrace. It held his arms and legs in place while it worked his cock and fucked him relentlessly in the ass. Worse, it had located that exact spot just behind the prostate. Each thrust of the thing inside Jack reverberated throughout Jack’s groin, making him want to cum. Making him want to shoot an enormous load. He struggled, trying to break free, but it was too powerful, too…in control. He was helpless in its grasp and being fucked and milked against his will.
For a few seconds, Jack gave in. The pressure in his ass was so absolutely amazing. The tentacle wrapped tightly around his cock knew exactly what Jack wanted, working it’s way up and down the shaft and over Jack’s increasingly sensitive tip. Jack had never been worked over like this. Never been forced to take this sort of abuse.
But, he had thought of this before. It was a recurring fantasy of Jack’s, this octopus-like milking/fucking machine that could capture a guy and force him to give up…everything.
And that was it, wasn’t it? Chris had said that the thing worked off your fantasies, your desires. This was one of Jack’s fantasies. He had conceived of it in the deep recesses of his lustful mind. He had lain on his back in bed and thought up this nightmare apparition. In that way, he had brought this on himself.
And that was where he found the resolve to fight back.
“No!” Jack yelled, as he strained against the tight hold. “No! You’re not taking me…you fucking…whatever the hell you are…!!!”
Jack ripped one hand free and then another, and then he swung out into the darkness, madly striking left and right, until he hit the creature--a wet thunk--like striking a side of meat. The coils released Jack, the cock in his ass fell away, and Jack lurched to his feet and kicked, sending the creature across the room, emitting another scream from the depths of hell.
Just then light flooded the room, temporarily blinding Jack. He shielded his eyes and realized that someone had turned on the lights.
“Jack! I found the breaker!” It was Chris…and it was Chris.
There were two of them, both standing a few feet apart. Like mirror images, they assumed the same poses, the same tilt of the head.
But only one of them spoke.
“Jack…?” Chris was addressing the other Chris. And it hit Jack, Chris—the real Chris—was looking at the creature. But instead of seeing what Jack saw—another Chris—he saw Jack.
The whole thing was starting to make Jack’s head hurt.
But then something moved in his peripheral vision to his right. It was Spanky. He was naked and apparently tied to a chair. Only there was no chair. He merely squatted in place as though in a chair, his arms behind his back.
“What the hell…?” But Jack hardly got the words out of his mouth when Chris—the extra Chris—the creature—shoved the real Chris backwards and ran up the stairs, seeming to morph again as it hit the landing into a mass of scrambling black legs.
Jack stood there a moment in stunned silence, unable to internalize everything that he’d seen, everything that he’d experienced.
And then it hit him.
Where was David?