Copyright ©1994 1995 David F. Norman
All Rights Reserved
Markie Don Evans was a good-looking boy, although he was not a nice guy. Markie Don was scared and in a hurry, just a step or two ahead of what he had left behind him in the town of Cartmore. This would explain why he was hauling ass across Ol' Man Hanson's back section in the middle of the night, trying to get to the railroad track. It was definitely time to light a shuck out of town.
Little Susie was probably crying in her mama's arms right about now. Served the little cock-teasing bitch right. Did she think she could lead him on and he would send her back home to mama, just like she left? Not hardly. When old Roscoe caught the scent of tender young pussy just waiting for someone to take it, what could a man do? Of course, Markie Don admitted to himself, he might have gotten a little too rough. But, he assuaged his rudimentary conscience, she shouldn't have put up so much of a fight. Oh well, he would deal with it the way he always did-get the fuck out of Dodge!
He could hear a train in the distance now as he neared the track. Hope this one is going East, he thought, they may still be after me for that job I did on the mayor's daughter over in Eddyston. No matter, he concluded the thought, I sure got to get out of here. He kicked his brain into neutral, its usual gear, and began to run all out toward the track.
All at once the night turned light around him. His first panicky thought was that they had a State Police chopper after him. Quickly he decided this was not the case since he couldn't hear any rotors beating the air. All he could hear, if that was the right word, was a buzzing like that you "hear" when you are in water up to your neck and a speed boat goes by. Hoping that whatever it was didn't concern him, but somehow certain it did, Markie Don ran on toward the Eastbound freight he could see topping the rise. He would never get there.
The buzzing got louder and Markie Don was halted in his tracks. He was still running but his feet were no longer quite touching the ground. In utter amazement, Markie Don ceased his futile efforts and began to plan his next move. He searched his slow brain and could not remember any police weapon like the one that had hold of him. Struggling wildly, he tried to pull loose. Then he looked down.
Far below him in the direction he had been running, the freight went slowly by. Looking to the other side, he could see the lights of Cartmore. Now his hands grappled wildly for something to hold onto. These efforts were as fruitless as his attempts to escape. Markie Don subsided into a terrified whimper.
He did not have long to wait. The color of the light around him changed from a brilliant white to a dull red. A whooshing sound beneath him barely had time to attract his attention before he was suddenly released. He dropped several inches to the floor. Immediately, he perceived he was lying on cool metal and he was pretty sure he wasn't in Kansas anymore.
Slowly, Markie Don got to his feet. His hand went to the back pocket of his jeans for the razor-sharp knife he always carried. Feeling a little more in control, he looked around.
The red light seemed brighter as his eyes got used to it. He seemed to be in an odd-shaped room mostly devoid of fixtures. Looking down, Markie Don could make out the outline of the door he had apparently come through. Moving gingerly, he stepped clear of the hatch in the deck and moved to one side of the room. He just got it into his mind to check the place out inch by inch, when a wall slid up to reveal a passage lit by the same red glow. Shrugging, he stepped into the hallway holding his open knife by his side. An even dozen steps brought him to the end of the passageway. He wondered what was next and where the fuck was he anyway.
Another section of wall slid up. As he stepped inside, the wall slid shut behind him. Brute that he was, Markie Don was over his first fear-he ignored the wetness in his jeans-and stepped ahead, determined to figure out where he was. He mentally retraced his route just in case he might need that information. He wondered where he would go next in this weird fucking place. As he stood still trying to get his bearings, the room began to lighten. Shortly, it reminded him of his Grandma's parlor; except he could not see where the light came from-it just WAS!
All around him, a green light flared intensely. Caught in its rays like a rat in a flashlight beam, it was a couple of seconds before Markie Don realized his knife was burning his hand. Steam rose from his pants as his piss-soaked jeans were heated by the coins in his pocket. The chain on his biker's wallet sent a searing pain from his waist to his ass. A brain surgeon, he was not; he still dropped his knife and pants, burning his fingers on the snaps in the process.
As he stood there with his pants around his ankles, he quickly decided his most prudent course was to separate himself from his belongings. Carefully, he pulled his feet from his boots and kicked the whole pile away from him. Shivering in fear, he stood mutely in his shirt and socks as the pile of clothing just kind of melted into the floor. The green glow winked out. The room he was in was about the size of the motel room he had robbed that time.
His jaw dropped as the floor rearranged itself into a rather comfortable table and sofa-like bench. Not knowing what else to do, he sat at one corner of the sofa and tucked his naked genitals out of sight. No sooner had he done so, than he saw a figure entering the room through one of the sliding doors.
He was looking as hard as he could, but somehow the figure seemed hazy in the distance. However, it seemed to be as naked as he was and it seemed to be FEMALE! Feeling much better about things-after all, he could handle any naked cunt-Markie Don watched as the figure approached the table. Both hands were laden with food which smelled delicious. Squinting at the face, which began to look familiar, Markie Don was relieved to see his visitor was really quite pretty. Definitely familiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on where he knew her from.
He decided it really didn't matter as she set the food on the table and sat across from him on a chair that was not there before. Almost too distracted to eat, Markie Don watched the woman pull her small feet up onto the edge of the chair, plainly displaying her luscious sex.
First things first, he decided and eating as delicately as any starved grizzly, Markie Don began to stuff his face. The small bottle included with the fare contained excellent bourbon-better than that Mad Dog 20-20, anyway-and he polished it off. Belching hugely, he was only a little surprised when the table absorbed the remnants of the meal. Markie Don fumbled in his shirt pocket and took out a rumpled pack of smokes and a box of matches.
Holding the girl's eyes with his own, Markie Don lit up with his best Mr. Cool manner. She just sat there smiling, looking more familiar than ever. The whiskey gave a nice glow to Markie Don's thoughts. The girl stood up as the table sank into the floor. Her chair began to reabsorb as soon as she stood and the sofa transformed into a huge bed.
Markie Don took off his shirt and socks as the girl approached him. When she was within reach, Markie Don shot out a hand and grabbed her by the wrist. The room spun crazily as he flew through the air. Unhurt, except in his pride, Markie Don jumped up and charged the bed.
As he touched the girl again, she did something with her hands and he flew across the room into the wall. That did hurt. He got up more slowly this time and approached cautiously. He held his hands placatingly in front of him. The girl smiled-Damn, where have I seen her before?--and patted the bed beside her. He sat.
With soft hands belying the muscles of steel, he knew she had, she began to stroke his body. Slowly, oh so slowly, Markie Don turned her until he was on the bed above her. He must have gotten something in his eye because for a second there he could swear she looked just like Susie. His vision cleared and she looked just as she had when she first entered the room.
First, I'll give her the fucking she's dying for and then while she is still glowing, I'll choke her until she shows me how to get out of here. These romantic thoughts burning his brain, Markie Don began to maneuver into position for Roscoe to do his work. He had the girl by the wrists and began to lower his weight onto her. She opened her legs and he thrust Roscoe home. All hell broke loose!
He had no sooner buried Roscoe to the hilt than she had grabbed him. Her muscles had a literal death grip on his poor Roscoe. He immediately released her wrists and tried to pry himself loose by pushing up with his hands. His efforts were to no avail. As he stared into her eyes, she grinned and her face definitely shifted this time. Without a doubt, Markie Don had his penis buried in the vagina of the most masculine body he had ever seen.
Markie Don's mouth gaped open in pain and horror as the creature rolled on the bed, placing himself above Markie Don. Despite the weirdness of the whole scene, Roscoe began to respond to the rhythmic pulsations. Knowing there was little else he could do, given the size and the strength of the creature with whom he was engaged, Markie Don relaxed and began to enjoy it. Suddenly it stopped being fun.
The creature grasped Markie Don's ankles and without disturbing the penetration of its body, lifted Markie Don's ankles high into the air above the bed. Markie Don began screaming as he felt the creature probing between his cheeks. Certain he was in a nightmare and would soon wake up, Markie Don felt the creature's organ begin to thrust into his tender bottom.
In a frenzy, the creature thrust harder and harder. Suddenly, Markie Don felt a scalding deep in his belly and everything went grey. As he fainted, Markie Don remembered why the girl looked so familiar to him; she was the one he fantasized about when he was jerking off.
The dew on the grass did more to wake him than did the actual impact of being dumped like garbage onto the ground. He pulled his aching body to a sitting position. He looked up just in time to have his belongings strike him in the face. The buzz in his head faded and he was alone.
He sat there alone in his absolute despair for a long time before he could stand and pull his ruined, stinking clothes over his bruised, bloody body. Slowly, he began to trudge back toward Cartmore. Markie Don needed the comfort of his own kind more than he needed flight.
Markie Don was no smarter than he had been when he left Cartmore, but he did possess a few new facts. He wasn't the cock-of-the-walk he thought he was, and he knew the creature, whatever it was, would be back. This horrible, unbidden knowledge filled him with both dread and anticipation. Markie Don knew it would be back to claim its own. Even as he stumbled along, he could fill the life implanted in him by the creature growing. Markie Don wondered most of all how the baby, whatever it was, would get out. Now Markie Don was really scared! Copyright ©1994 1995 David F. Norman