Message from John Carter

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Sunday, March 17, 2013

Middleboro Part 12

Part twelve of Middleboro.  Hope you enjoy.  I sure wish I could find someone to illustrate some of the scenes from this story.  Anyone know the guy who drew Rants Roids Rasslin?  Or who draws Kalabro? 




David opened his eyes.  He wasn’t sure where he was.  The last thing he remembered was Mitchell.  They had been wrestling and Mitchell had jacked David off.  Then, nothing.  



But, Mitchell was missing.  So, how could he have been with him?  And, if it wasn’t Mitchell who’d jacked him off so furiously.  Who…or what had done it?

Slowly, David tried to turn his head.  Something held him in place.  Some sort of strap across his forehead.  He tried to reach up and pull it away, but his hands were tied, too.  In fact, David was bound hand and foot, and only with difficulty was he able to turn his head enough to see that he was tied to what appeared to be a concrete wall.  It was dark, although there was some intermittent light, but everything had a decidedly bluish cast, as though some sort of filter had been laid over what little light there was. 

He heard water dripping.  A splash.  Something was near-by.  Something was moving in the murk, and David knew that he was not alone.



He strained to see what was holding him, and only slowly understood that he was literally plastered to a wall by what looked like sticky, white strands of cum.  They were slightly flexible, but still tough enough that he could not break free.  It was as though he’d been webbed to the wall.

As he struggled to move, he felt a constriction in his groin.  He leaned his head forward, as much as he could, and saw that his balls and cock were tightly webbed up and held in place.  His dick was hard.  So damned hard.  And only then did he realize how sore his cock was—as though he’d been jacking off over and over all day. 

Something moved.  David looked out into the room.  Was it a room?  It looked like a cave, or maybe a sewer.  Whatever, something was there with him.  Something was moving just out of his field of vision, and he couldn’t move his head around enough to get a good look.

Then, David saw them.

Along the wall across from him.  Was that Mitchell?  He was webbed to the far wall along with six of seven other men. All of them were naked and fixed to the wall with numerous strands of thick, white cum.  All of them had enormous hard-ons.  And all of them were out, their heads lolling to one side.



A scratching sound to his left.  David strained to turn his head.  He had to see what it was that had ensnared them.  Had to know what it was that was doing this.  But it was so dark, and the blue tint made it difficult to see clearly.  Still, there was something there, moving to his left, seemingly skittering along the wall. 

His breath came in short, sharp gulps as David broke into a sweat.  His heart pounded.  Something was just to his left.  He could feel its presence.  Almost feel the heat that it gave off.  There was a weird noise.  A sort of wet smacking, and David began to realize that whatever it was, it was only inches away.

He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.  Then, with all his might, he jerked his head around, yanking a strand of the sticky stuff loose. 

Two red eyes.  That was what he saw.  A black bulk squatting on the side of the wall, with two large red eyes that bore into David’s head and made him want to scream.

And he did.  A long, terrified wail that echoed down the chamber and reverberated in his ears. 

It was on him.  Long, black legs with stiff black hairs.  A large open mouth, dripping a viscous liquid.  It was crawling over David.  Smothering him with its bulk.  He wanted to scream again.  Wanted to shout.  But something was in his mouth.  Something soft yet hard.  Expanding.  Warm. 

It was Mitchell.  He was on top of David.  His smooth, muscular body was clearly delineated in the dim light of the sewer.  His crotch was only inches from David’s face, and his hard cock was in David’s mouth.  He was skull-fucking David, holding David’s head in his strong hands, while he thrust his cock deep into David’s mouth. 

David was hard.  So incredibly hard.  And he was touching Mitchell.  Running his hands over Mitchell’s smooth, bare ass.  Mitchell had such hard ass cheeks.  Such incredibly nice muscled ass cheeks, and David let his hands feel the dimples on each.

But how could he be feeling Mitchell when his hands were tied?  How could Mitchell be here when David could tilt his head ever so slightly and see Mitchell, unconscious and bound, against the far wall? 

Mitchell withdrew his cock from David’s mouth, and let the wet tip linger just a moment on David’s lower lip.  Then Mitchell repositioned himself so that his head was down at David’s waist, and he was looking up with that silly grin he had.  David wanted to laugh, but he was so damned hard.  So desperate to cum.  And Mitchell wanted him to cum. He wanted David to give up his spunk.  To ejaculate again and again.  Oh God!  He was going down on David, using his mouth to work David’s poor, sore cock.  But David didn’t even notice the pain.  It felt so great.  So amazing. 

This isn’t Mitchell.

Oh, man….oh…please…don’t stop.  Just…

Isn’t Mitchell.

Sucking his balls.  Licking his shaft.  Working the tip—the oh-so-sensitive tip—and then back again.

Against the other wall, David saw Mitchell’s eyes open.

“David…?”

As David shot his load, he saw the horror in Mitchell’s eyes.

2 comments:

  1. This gets better and better the hot images are great but I agree a graphic novel version would be awesome.
    Can't wait for your wrestling report

    ReplyDelete
  2. I draw wrestling scenes under the name bazotter. I have a yahoo group and just finished drawing a wrestling story. have a look..Barry. below is the link.

    http://groups.yahoo.com/group/bazotterwrestlingpics/

    ReplyDelete