Meanwhile, check out some of the drawings I have posted with this episode. In an earlier post I asked if anyone would be interested in illustrating some of the scenes in Middleboro and a guy who does bazotterwrestlingpics on Yahoo Groups has expressed an interest. I am really happy, because his stuff is totally hot. You really need to check it out if you like erotic wrestling drawings in any way. (I love them.)
Jack had a bit of a time squeezing into the open storm drain. The old, crumbly concrete was rough and left a red scrap across his stomach where he’d slid in. Chris struggled, too, dangling his legs over the edge while Jack tried ineffectually to help him in.
“Wait! Wait! Don’t pull me!” Chris’ voice sounded constricted. “I think I’m stuck. Oh shit…I think I’m really stuck.”
Jack could feel that Chris was starting to panic, and he grasped Chris’ thighs and held him steady, hoping to calm him. But it only made things worse.
“Don’t pull me!”
“I’m not! I’m just holding on to you.”
Chris struggled to control his breathing. “Oh God, Jack. I’m stuck half way in this damned storm drain. Oh shit. Oh shit Oh shit.”
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit…”
“Chris! Stop it! Just calm down. Please, just…calm…down…”
“You’re not stuck. I got through and I’m as wide as you are.”
“No, you’re not. I’m bigger than you. Have you seen my pecs lately? Why did I work on my pecs so much? Oh, Jesus, Jack, I worked on my pecs! I did bench presses like fucking crazy! I’ll never get out!”
“I’ve seen your pecs. Mine are as big as yours.”
“No, they’re not. Why did I work my pecs? My trainer said I should work legs more. Why didn’t I listen?”
Jack had had enough. He caught hold of Chris’ ankles and yanked. Chris scraped through, falling forward. Jack caught him as best he could, but they both ended up in a heap, lying in about a half a foot of water.
Chris pushed himself up on his forearms with a look of relief that quickly turned to anger. “You son-of-a-bitch! You could have killed me! And look at my stomach! I’ve got a scrap across my abs. Damn it, Jack! It’s just about summer and I like to go without a shirt. I look like a cat got me…”
“It stings, too…”
“Chris! Come on, man! Get a hold of yourself! We’re climbing down into a sewer to fight a monster from hell and you’re worried about your fucking tee shirt?’
Chris sat up on his knees and examined his abs a little more. “Ouch.”
Jack got to his feet and patted Chris on the head. “Yeah, I got scratched up, too. But let’s try and concentrate a little here, okay? That thing has Fos and my brother and God knows who else. And…and we don’t even know if there are more than one of it. There could be a whole colony of those things down here…”
Chris got to his feet and steadied himself on Jack’s shoulder. “Colony? I…I…hadn’t thought about that…”
Jack hadn’t really thought about that much either. How did he know that there was only one of those things down there in the sewer? If there was one, didn’t there have to be more? And what would they do when they found it…or them? How could they keep from cumming all over themselves?
Jack ran a hand through his hair and contemplated the narrow tunnel that led off into the dark. It was only about five feet high, so he’d have to stoop to make it through. But it wasn’t so much the height of the tunnel that bothered him. It was the darkness. An inky blackness seemed to condense in the concrete confines of the tunnel, and Jack imagined all sorts of sexual fantasies waiting for him there. Sexual fantasies that would over-come his strength and will-power and force him to ejaculate. And then what? What happened next? He would loose consciousness only to…never awake again? Or would he regain his senses only to find himself a prisoner of that thing, that monster?
A touch on his arm made Jack recoil, but it was just Chris, reaching out. “Don’t…don’t do that! Jesus…!”
“I’m sorry! Sorry! I was just trying to calm you…you know, sympathize.” Chris had a look on his face that Jack had not seen in a very long time. A look of love and concern. “I’m scared, too, Jack.”
Jack nodded. “Yeah.” He suddenly noticed that his mouth was dry. “Man, Chris. What are we doing? Maybe we should go and find someone. Get someone to help us.”
“Yeah. A search party. The police. The army. The National Guard. The Marines. Seal Team Six.”
“I guess in this case they should be Seal Team Sex, huh?”
They both managed a laugh at that, but only barely.
A voice. From deep within the tunnel. Echoing down the long concrete sewer pipe.
Jack looked at Chris. “Was that David? I think that was David?”
Jack stooped over and entered the tunnel, splashing in the half foot or so of water at the bottom. Chris started in after him, and they both rushed down the tunnel as fast as they could, backs bent, feet wet, stumbling over stray rocks and, at one point, a large branch. Then they emerged into a large room. Above them, a small grate exposed a slash of dark sky. Water dripped down from the ceiling somewhere, and they stopped to catch their breath.
“There’s another tunnel over there,” said Jack. “It’s larger than the last one. We won’t have to stoop over.” Jack splashed through the water and entered the tunnel. The darkness was more intense, more complete there, and he hesitated just past the threshold. Looking back, Chris picked his way across the open room toward the tunnel.
“Maybe we should think about this, Jack. It’s so dark in there…”
A rattling clang filled the tunnel and the room and Jack took a step back as a large, heavy metal grate closed him off from Chris. He was trapped inside the tunnel.
“Chris! Chris!” Jack splashed back to the metal grate and shook it violently with both hands. It squeaked and moaned but would not move. “I’m trapped in here.”
“Jack, I think I’m trapped, too,” said Chris. “The exit back through the little tunnel is closed off, too.”
“How is that possible? Who or what could have caused those gates to close like that? It doesn’t…it just doesn’t make sense.” Jack shook the gate again.
Chris hugged himself as though he was suddenly cold. He didn’t have a shirt, so it made sense. But Jack suspected that he wasn’t cold. Just afraid.
“We’ll be alright,” said Jack. “We fought this thing at Spanky’s. We can do it again.”
“Where is Spanky, by-the-way,” said Chris, his voice shaking with fear. “Where did he go? He never followed us into the sewer.”
“Can you blame him?”
Chris shook his head slowly. “N-n-no…”
A voice echoed down the tunnel behind Jack. He frantically turned to face the darkness and it was like a wall before him. No, not a wall. A living, breathing thing, animate and calculating. He knew now. It was waiting on him. Waiting on him to walk down that dark corridor and face his darkest sexual fantasies. If Jack ever wanted to see David again, he would have to face it. He would have to face it, and defeat it.
“I love you, Chris.”
Jack splashed away from the grate into the darkness and disappeared from sight.