So to the Gods are We

©2010, 2017 Rogue

More people around the world watched footage of the first World Brotherhood Men's Triathlon than any event in broadcast history. The record-breaking viewership came about neither for the panic that ensued nor for the alarming number of dead and missing, but rather for that which had caused both.

The fact that the incident lasted barely ten seconds gave cameramen little time to focus. Even the most steady-handed professionals turned in tumultuous footage that raised more questions than answers. Some angles showed only a riot of black and white markings in which viewers claimed to see everything from secret writing to the face of the Virgin Mary. Others left a hot debate over whether they depicted something with two heads, long ears or a storklike beak. Every video ended the same way: the image finally settling, the focus rolling into clarity on nothing but an empty sky, a sea of stunned faces, or an oblong depression in the pavement filled with countless bodies, crushed beyond all recognition.

With the videos all but useless the world clamored for eyewitness accounts, yet despite the vast number of spectators who had gathered to watch the start of the race, no one was able to give a clear description of what had taken place and many were shocked to the point of being unable to remember anything at all. A reporter who later shot himself to death told of being startled by a thunderclap an instant before something bigger than a city bus materialized from empty air and landed on the people who had crowded beside the starting line. A race official who had been standing on the opposite side of the line described a similar scene and added that he had witnessed stupefied athletes being scooped into the air and dumped into what he thought was a great sack, and what others insisted was a space ship and still others a hole in the fabric of time. There were as many descriptions as there were onlookers, but one thing that everyone could agree upon was that whatever had appeared and just as suddenly disappeared that day was big.



A giant...

Colt floundered on the shifting fabric surface while it swung to and fro, nausatingly, and perhaps a dozen other men floundered upon and around him. The inner surface of the bag was too smooth for a handhold and there was little that the men could do other than to push and kick to keep from being buried under each others' writhing bodies. There was barely enough light inside to see. The air was hot and rang with half a dozen languages' worth of indignation, confusion, and terror. Now and again something enormous bumped against their fabric prison from outside and knocked the men against one another and stirred up fresh struggles and shouts. At one point Colt's arm was seized by a Cuban who spoke no English but made it abundantly clear that he held the United States, and Colt personally, responsible for this outrage. Some of the other men appeared to agree.

Luckily for Colt, before the Cuban and his friends were able to take out their frustration on him, the bag gave a sudden lurch that sent all of the men tumbling into a pile. Landing by chance on top of the rest, Colt saw a sliver of light appear overhead and briefly stretch wider before the bag tilted fully onto its side. He rode the rolling mass of bodies like a surfer as the fabric was shaken violently, bouncing the men along the now horizontal wall toward the bag's opening. Some tried to cling to the rim but were only shaken free. Colt tumbled into the open just ahead of the Cuban and managed to land on his feet while the latter fell on his ass with a painful-sounding thud.

They had fallen onto a vast, flat surface that was lit by brilliant white light from overhead. After the oppressive warmth of the bag, the air was chilly enough to raise goosebumps, but nobody noticed. Free now and in the open, they could all see clearly for the first time the monster that had carried them off. Beneath its harlequin coat of fur it was built as they all were, powerful and lean but colossal beyond belief. The upper half of its body alone stood ten times as high as any of the huddled men, and maybe taller, with towering ears adding ever more to its impossible height. The hands that now carefully folded the bag that had transported the athletes were shaped just like any man's, as was the rest of the creature that they could see, apart from the fur and the head, which was as far from human as any nightmare. Whiskers sprouted from a cleft muzzle beyond which rested two eyes that were as black and featureless as a starless sky.

Those eyes coldly followed one man as he bolted away in panic from the group. The other men quickly joined in but found to their dismay that they had nowhere to run. Smooth, barely visible walls rose on all sides of them, and although they beat their fists wildly against them their hands left no marks, and the impacts on the walls made no sound.

"Look out!" Colt shouted.

The giant was reaching for them.

Some cowered in place; others scrambled away as the mammoth hand descended, fingers splaying wide before they closed around an Islander who howled and kicked and gibbered as he was hoisted into the air. The others watched, stunned, as the giant upended the man, deftly relieved him of his swim trunks with a flick of a clawed finger, and then deposited him naked into the cage with little more than a bump before reaching for the next man. That one fought even harder. Every muscle in him shook with strain as he pushed against the gigantic fingers, but although he twisted and kicked and even bit with all of his might the titan disrobed him just as easily. As soon as his feet hit the tabletop again the man raced for a corner and crouched there, eyes darting about like a wounded animal with his hands clamped tightly over his groin. There he watched while one by one the remaining men were plucked from the enclosure and stripped naked, as casually one might hull a bag of peanuts.

After finishing with them the giant turned away from the table, flashing a short, teardrop tail as it strode off. With a tap on a distant wall a great square doorway appeared and the giant stepped through it while the overhead light faded to a sulky glow. Now the men could see the extent of the room in which their tabletop dungeon was situated. It was a shock to them, not for any thrilling alien features that some were anticipating but for the striking familiarity of its décor. Though vast to the men the room would likely have seemed quite small to their captor. Much of it was occupied by an enormous bed complete with pillows and sheets, no different save for its size than any of them had occupied the evening prior. Their tabletop proved to be little more than a nightstand nestled in the corner.

"Holy shit!" one man blurted in English. "Did you see the dick on that son of a bitch?"

Another, the same Cuban with whom Colt had become briefly acquainted on the trip, waved a fist and began bawling furiously at the man but Colt interceded. "Leave him alone!" he growled. "He's in shock, same as the rest of us."

"Bigger'n I was!" the man shouted giddily. "Bigger'n any of us! God damn, did you see it swinging against his thighs? Bong, bong, bong, bong, bong..."

Colt caught the punch that the Cuban threw and returned one of his own, catching the attacker in the solar plexus and readying another shot. The Cuban looked ready to meet it and start tearing Colt to bits but three of the other men caught him and dragged him back.

"Hijo de puta!" the Cuban spat as he shook the other men off and retreated to sulk by himself in a corner.

Colt glared after him, then turned back to his fellow American. The man's eyes were wide and his grin devoid of any sense.

"Bigger'n my goddamn pickup truck! God damn! I'll bet the thing weighs two tons limp!"

Colt gripped his shoulders and pulled the man around to stare into his face. "That's enough, damn it! Listen, It's Shanahan, right? Listen, you've got to keep it together. Nobody knows what the fuck is going on here but going bananas isn't going to help us escape."

"Escape?" Shanahan blinked at him and then burst out laughing. "There ain't no escape! Ain't you figured out what all this is?"

"No. What are you saying? You know where we are?"

Shanahan giggled and then prodded a finger into Colt's bicep. "We're right here, Man. We're"

Colt frowned. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"All right in here, Man. We're all inside the needle. My stepdad said that those things would fuck up my head -- who'd'a thought that fat asshole would have been right about something?" He shook his head and squeezed his eyes as tightly closed as he could, then popped them open. "Nope. Still here. Heeheehee! I figured it would give me an edge, you know? Leave you all in my dust. Now we're all inside the needle looking out. All of us. Heeheehee!"


The man's voice suddenly dropped down low. "I'm sorry, Mom," he whispered. "I just wanted to bring home the trophy."

Over Shanahan's shoulder Colt saw a dark rectangle appear in the distant wall. Something huge moved within it. "Oh, Fuck."

The giant returned, and this time he was not alone.

"Oh, Baby!" Shanahan breathed while Colt left him to join the others in retreating to the back of the enclosure.

She was as comely as her partner was masculine. Smaller than he, she was nonetheless still enormous, her fur the same crazy-quilt of black and white, her eyes dark and shining as coal. She was also nude, a fact about which Shanahan was crowing excitedly despite the urgent whispers and pleadings of his fellows.

"Oh, yeah, Sweetheart!" he howled, rushing to the front of the pen and jumping excitedly from one foot to the other. "How about some sugar for old Ned here? Your boyfriend ain't gonna mind, are you, Boy?"

"God damn it, Shanahan!" Colt leaped forward, intent on dragging the lunatic away from the wall, but a powerful hand seized his arm and yanked him back.

"Nein!" a voice hissed. Colt turned to see a man who was tapping at his forehead with a finger. "Las ihn," the man whispered, and shook his head grimly.

Shanahan's antics soon caught the giants' attention. Both of them approached the table and stood towering above, the female leaning forward slightly so that she could peer down at the captives past the swell of her breasts. "Lookit that, Boys!" Shanahan squealed.

The female's hand descended toward him.

"I'll keep her warm for you fellows!" were the last coherent words that Shanahan spoke before the female's fingers closed into a fist and lifted him from the box. Both giants turned away and climbed onto the bed.

The German released Colt's arm and shook his head once more.

Although muffled by the distance, Shanahan's laughter could still be heard. The men peered nervously through the transparent walls of their prison while the two giants stretched themselves out on the bed. The male reached forward nd touched a fingertip to the wall, and the dim light faded further to a mere candleglow. Without realizing that they were doing the men pushed forward, all jockeying for a spot from which to watch the spectacle.

The male lay on his side, facing away from the table. His body reminded Colt of a mountain range silhouetted by the setting sun. The female was on the opposite side, out of sight.

"Heehee! Ha ha ha!" Shanahan's voice floated back.

The male's stubby tail dusted cheerfully. The men could see his upper arm moving.

"Ha ha hee hee hee!" they heard, and all at once the laughter stopped. The male's arm continued to work for a few moments, and then stretched forward, reaching as though to drop something onto a table on the far side of the bed.

Dread rose on a hot wave through Colt's belly. "I've got a bad feeling about this," he mumbled. Wheeling to face the rest of the men who were still transfixed by the lurid activity on the bed, Colt raised his voice and barked, "English?"

Most of the men stared at him blankly.

"English? Oh, for Pete's sake, forget it." He jabbed a finger skyward. "Up!" he shouted. "You understand 'up?' We came in that way; maybe we can get out."

Pushing aside a stupefied Islander, Colt placed his palms on the wall and then jumped as high as he could, groping for an edge but finding none. The other men quickly got the idea and began to search likewise, but with no more success. It was the Islander who finally patted Colt's shoulder to get his attention and then crouched with his hands cupped.

"Now you're talking!" Colt grinned. Stepping into the man's interlaced fingers he was hoisted up, his body sliding against the wall, his fingers raking hopefully. Suddenly he felt a violent pull from below and only barely managed to keep from falling when the Cuban clambered up his body like a monkey shimmying up a tree. "What the fuck? Asshole!" Colt growled, but his anger turned to excitement when he saw the Cuban's hands hook forward, and the man hauled himself up and onto an invisible rim.

"Aqui!" the Cuban shouted. "Aqui!"

The faint light suddenly grew brighter. The male's vast body, no longer a mere silhouette, rolled toward them and sat up.

"Shit!" Colt cried out.

The Islander beneath him faltered and Colt slid down, the two collapsing in a flailing heap, while in the distance the male swung his legs over the bedside and stood up. The huge penis that had so captivated Shanahan's imagination was larger than ever and standing now rigidly at attention. It swung ponderously from side to side in the two steps that it took for the giant to reach the table. All of the men cowered as the mammoth organ approached, growing impossibly larger before slowing to a halt directly over their heads. Two tons limp, Shanahan had guessed, and now easily ten times that. Four dark blemishes marred its underside. Colt realized that they were globes attached to two solid bars pierced sidelong through the skin, one just behind the head, the other midway along, At the same moment, the air was shattered by an inhuman wail.

It had come from the Cuban. Fear-crazed at the sight of the colossal erection looming over him he had made a desperate leap into open space. His screech followed him down to the tabletop and ended when he struck, his body landing hard upon the very edge of the table. Followed by the giant's indifferent gaze the Cuban twitched, rolled toward the edge and tumbled out of sight. There was a far-off sound like a raw hamburger being slapped onto a griddle.

The captives held their breath. The giant gave only a second's further attention to the fallen Cuban before the muscles of his right thigh began to flex. The fur made shifting patterns while his leg twisted slowly, first left, then right, all the while accompanied by a different sound, this one wet and grinding and awful.

One man dropped to his knees and vomited. Two others passed out. Colt would have preferred to do both but there was no time. The knobs of the giant's piercings thudded noisily against the top edge of the wall as he leaned downward and then lowered his hand into the enclosure. Men rushed about wildly, Colt along with them, all fighting to escape the groping fingers. Inevitably one man was herded, screaming, into a corner where he was captured. The giant lifted him free of the cage and transferred him to his other hand, then reached for more. A second man was caught within seconds and handed off to join the first. A third had his arm pinched between two fingers and was lifted thirty feet into the air before he managed somehow to twist free and fell with an impact that shattered his spine. The giant prodded him once with a rough finger before abandoning him for a livelier target. Colt noticed that the unconscious men, though surely the easiest to catch, were being ignored; apparently an immobile victim was not satisfactory for whatever the giant had in mind. The observation came none too soon. As the thick fingers began to surround him Colt fell flat and feigned death, and the giant seized instead the Islander that had given Colt the boost up the wall. Colt felt a sting of guilt as he watched the three men writhe and holler together in the giant's fist, but he beat the feeling down down in the simple interest of survival.

While the remaining men cowered against the walls, Colt lay on his back in the center of the enclosure, his eyes slitted, hardly daring to breathe as he watched the giant busily attach shiny metal chains to the limbs of his captives. A cuff at the end of each chain was bent closed with an easy pinch but the frantic clawing of the men against their bonds made it apparent that to open them would require more strength than any human possessed.

The screaming of the terrified victims was continuous as the giant finished his curious handiwork and hoisted them up high for his mate to see. They hung kicking from a long length of chain which was clutched between the male's thumb and forefinger, one man above the other with the Islander on top. Colt was briefly reminded of plastic toy monkeys that he had played with as a child before the male turned away and rejoined his mate upon the bed.

The light faded again to near darkness. There followed a low rumble like an unceasing earthquake along with the rushing of breath through cavernous lungs, and above it all the pathetic screams of the captive men that went on and on and on. Squinting through the wall of their prison, the survivors could barely make outin the dim light that the male was lying on his back, his legs in the air with the female kneeling between them. The screaming continued for several agonizing minutes, three voices raised in a chorus of terror. Abruptly one vanished, leaving only two, and shortly thereafter there were just the lonely, hoarse cries of the Islander, before those too were silenced.

The remaining men sat apart from one another, not daring to speak or even to look one another in the eye. They listened to the sounds of the giants' immense bodies moving about on the bed, and to their deep breathing and their low, thundering groans. An hour passed, or perhaps only what seemed an hour, before one of the men gasped and jumped to his feet and pointed excitedly. All turned to see a pair of tall ears rising over the bed. The light returned, and this time it was the female who approached the enclosure and leaned down to peer at the tiny figures as they scurried and scrambled in her shadow. To Colt she seemed more studious than her mate, her black gaze somehow more attentive.

Some of the men had given up and simply lay on the ground as the female nudged them with a furry finger. They shivered, whimpering in submission as she explored them, tracing her fingertip down their torsos. One wheezed as she pressed experimentally down on his chest but he did not struggle. She pressed harder; there was a gurgle and a sickening crack, and she moved on to the next.

The next happened to be Colt. He felt ice in his veins as she leaned in closer, her finger prodding at his belly and then at his legs. It rose, hovered a mere moment in the air, and then settled on his chest. For a few terrifying seconds it simply rested, then it grew steadily heavier.

Colt glanced over at the body of the previous victim, whose eyes were wide and from whose mouth blood bubbled in streams. That won't be me, he gritted, and then with a cry of fury he began to pummel at the female's finger with both fists. "Fucking bitch!" he roared. "Get the fuck off of me!" He twisted his shoulders and felt his body slip from beneath the weight, whereupon he rolled to his feet and delivered the hardest roundhouse kick in his life to her second knuckle. Panting, he glowered defiantly at her face, expecting to see anger and indignation in those beastly eyes, but to his dismay her face was lit by what could only be delight. He realized at the exact moment that she seized him that he had made a dreadful mistake.

The fist that carried him aloft was surprisingly gentle, the fingers squeezing only enough to quench his wiggling. It was obvious that she wanted him alive, and not just alive but intact. The faces of the survivors as they shrank from view below him reflected the same guilt and pity that he must have shown to the Islander, and with that same sad, unspoken message: Better you than me. Colt fought hard at first but then went limp. He knew that he could not break the female's grip and sensed that she would not be likely to fall for any ruse; better to conserve his strength now and wait for the opportunity to bolt. Besides, if he freed himself now, it was a good hundred foot drop to the floor below.

The male was sprawled on his side, propped up on one elbow, one leg cocked jauntily so that his immense masculinity lay in full display. He followed Colt with his dark eyes as the prisoner was lowered down and held close to the mammoth organ, so close that Colt could feel the heat rising from it. The heady musk of the giant's groin nearly choked him. The male arched his back in a stretch; as he did so his heavy scrotum rolled languidly, allowing Colt to see a familiar length of silver chain trailing up behind the mighty orbs and disappearing into the cleft of the male's buttocks.

Colt gagged. Through a haze of nausea he felt a cold squeeze about his left wrist; when he moved his arm it felt heavy and he heard links clanking. Panic drove away the disgust. "Oh, fuck! No! God, please, no!"

The male helped, gripping Colt's right hand between two fingers and stretching his arm out while the female pinched an icy cuff around Colt's wrist. "Don't do this!" he pleaded. "Can you understand me at all? I'm a person. I'm a civilized being, just like you."

Another chain rattled from his left leg. "Look at me! You're intelligent -- I can see that. Can't you tell that I am too? You can't do this. Please!"

With not a hint of comprehension the female affixed the last chain about his ankle and then lowered him down toward the great meaty length that stretched below him. "God damn it," Colt howled. "I am not a toy!"

The giants apparently disagreed. Colt's voice dissolved into a wail of frustration as his back was pressed firmly to the upper surface of the male's penis. Both arms and legs were stretched behind him and he shuddered at a quick succession of clicks that left him crucified helplessly against the male's gargantuan erection. Desperately he tugged at his bonds, but although the chains rattled and clattered the twin barbells embedded in the flesh on the opposite side did not budge. High overhead the male was peering upside-down at him -- but no, not at him. Past him.

Colt lifted his head in time to see the female's mouth open wide and slowly engulf the male's thick glans. She did not stop there. Her lips gaped wider. Colt screamed as his legs and lower body disappeared into the shadowy interior. The female closed her mouth, the cleft of her upper lip nestling against Colt's belly. He could feel her tongue working over his calves while the male moaned sonorously above him. The mighty organ pulsated against his back, the giant's heartbeat thudding within it like someone trying to beat down a door.

The male tensed suddenly and clenched his jaw once. A pause, then a shudder, a pause, and then a series of tremors before the torturous fellatio ended. Slowly the female withdrew, leaving both Colt and the male's erection glistening with her saliva. Licking her lips, the female sat up and lifted a gleaming something from between the male's legs. Colt caught only a glimpse of three limp, lifeless bodies being tossed aside, landing in a heap on a table atop what had once been Shanahan.

Colt prayed that they were finished with him; to his dismy, they had only just begun.

"Oh, God. You can't be serious," Colt groaned as his body tilted forward. Beyond the flare of the male's glans loomed the enormous cleft of the female's vagina. No amount of straining at his bonds could free Colt from the gruesome sight of the head of the male's penis parting the thick folds and burying itself within them, and no amount of screaming could prevent his legs from riding the thick shaft into the depths. "Stop it!" he shouted. "You can't do this! You can't! Please stop!"

The giants ignored him, too focused on their own desires to heed his pitiful cries, if even they could hear them. The mammoth erection throbbed powerfully against Colt as it crammed itself relentlessly between the fleshy lips, stretching them around its girth and then around Colt's knees as they were carried within. Wet warmth quickly slid over his thighs. The female's gasp of pleasure was like the blast of a hurricane, drowning out Colt's anguished wail as the warmth rode up along his torso. His body was swallowed clear up to the neck before that first thrust came to a halt, leaving Colt gasping from the stench and the unbearable squeeze. A dark red clitoris as big as a basketball quivered over his head, and swelled even larger in the second before he was dragged back out, coughing, his body covered with thick and fragrant juice.

The reprieve lasted no longer than a second. Above him the male's abdominals clenched, leaving Colt barely enough time to gulp in a frantic lungful of air before he was plunged forward and engulfed in smothering darkness. Raw survival instinct made him writhe and twist, thrashings that he knew were only inflaming the crushing spasms around him but which he was helpless to control, and which he knew equally well were precisely what the giants desired of him.

At first the male took his time, deliberately holding Colt within the female and allowing Colt's body to do the work of pleasing her for agonizingly long moments before hauling the prisoner into the open for a merciful gasp of air. Colt was determined with each thrust to defy his giant tormentors, struggling to will his body into unconsciousness or even death, but to no avail. With every plunge into the female's sex her vaginal walls would squeeze him like a brutal fist, driving the breath from his lungs while thick fluids churned in his mouth and nose, sending him into wild convulsions that prompted deafening howls from male and female alike. It was a calculated torture that could not possibly have been invented solely for him. Clearly the giants had been experimenting long before Colt was captured.

The male's heartbeat hammered furiously against Colt's back as the thrusts grew both shorter and more forceful. Labia slurped grotesquely and juices splashed into fur as Colt was pumped in and out in a dizzying and steadily accelerating cycle of dark and light and dark and light and dark and light and dark...

...and dark, quivering, ominous, straining, overpowering...

The throbbing in the mighty penis was like a linebacker crashing into Colt's body from behind. A riptide roar filled his ears and waves crashed over his body. The wet, unseen fist squeezed hard around him. He felt ribs bending alarmingly and consciousness beginning to fade. Yes! Finally...


The clenching subsided and Colt felt himself sliding slowly outward. His head emerged with a vile sucking noise and he gulped gratefully at the cool air. His shoulders followed, and then his chest, heaving. With the male's erection subsiding, Colt realized that his bonds had relaxed and that he could move his arms more freely. A spark of hope glimmered within him, then flared higher when the male rolled lazily onto his back and let out a cavernous yawn. If he's like any other guy, Colt thought eagerly, he'll fall asleep now and I can make a break for it.

Indeed, the male lay motionless for some time, basking in the afterglow while his mate stroked at the fur of his chest. At last he turned to nuzzle at the female's cheek before stretching an arm over his head and touching a fingertip to the wall. Across the room the massive door slid silently open, and Colt cried out in renewed horror at what came bounding in.

It was much like a wolf, but appallingly misshapen, its mouth filled with crocodile fangs and with two raw red eyes glowing like the fires of Hell itself. The male reached forth and patted its head. In response the monster quivered and whined and slathered its tongue worshipfully across the giant's fingers, then sat with perked ears and eager gaze.

It had learned what to expect, and Colt soon learned, too. The male sat up and reached away from the beast, the movement making his spent penis roll to the side and twisting Colt briefly away from the scene. When it rolled back Colt felt his stomach lurch. From a silvery chain held between the giant's fingers dangled three lifeless bodies. As Colt watched in revulsion the male plucked one of the corpses like a grape from the vine and tossed it casually toward the beast. Teeth flashed shockingly white, a snap and a gulp, and the monster was licking its lips and ready to catch the second morsel, then the third, and when the chain was empty the beast begged for and was granted the last shattered tidbit still lying on the nightstand.

Colt was not the only one to witness the hideous disposal. The surviving athletes were gawking and gibbering from within their glass prison. Even at such a distance the horror in their eyes was unmistakable. The female glanced briefly in their direction and then whispered into the male's ear. He listened, nodded, then reached to grip the rim of the cage in his fingers and lift it bodily from the tabletop, captives and all. They stumbled and slid against one wall as the box tilted in the air and then descended toward the beast. Impatient, it roared and reared onto its hind legs before dropping with a thud to all fours. The men screeched and began to scramble in helpless terror.

Colt was thankful that the giant lowered the box below the level of the bed so that he did not have to see what happened next. The beast eagerly thrust its head down and out of sight. The screaming grew to a shrill climax before steadily diminishing amidst a flurry of gulps and crunches and slaps. When the cries were silenced the giant lifted the box, its walls now smeared with wet lickmarks and streaks of red, back to the tabletop.

The beast raised its head, demonic eyes swirling with delight. Gratefully it lapped at its master's fingers, then turned its fiery gaze toward the little man still bound to the giant's malehood. Colt steeled himself. This is it, he said silently. My turn now. He wondered if it would hurt for long.

The giant patted the beast's head fondly, gave its ears a ruffle, and then reached with another wide yawn to touch his finger to the wall. The overhead light faded to a gentle glow, leaving as the only sounds in the room Colt's own heartbeat, the low rush of the giants' breath, and the padding of circling paws on the floor below as the beast laid itself down.

"Hey..." Colt raised his head as far as his bonds would allow with the big penis laying sideways across the top of the giant's thigh. In the feeble light Colt could just barely make out the male's face. His eyes were closed.

"Hey, Asshole!"

There was no response. Colt gave his chains a vicious tug. "Yo! I'm talking to you, Dipshit. Aren't you forgetting something?"


Anger swelled within him. "You listen to me, you big fucker," he growled. "You are not leaving me alive like this." Still no response. "And you are not going to keep me, either. That's a promise."

Alerted by the sound of Colt's voice, the dreadful hound raised its head over the edge of the bed and peered curiously at the source of the noise. "Hey, Puppy!" Colt called out. "Want a snack? Come on, come and get me! Bite this motherfucker's dick off!"

The hound's head disappeared and it settled back to the floor with a lazy sigh. "Not you, too," Colt groaned.

It was too much to bear. The thought of spending another night -- or perhaps even the rest of his life -- as a helpless sex toy for these two heartless titans drove him to the brink of madness. "This ends tonight," he seethed. Sitting up further he tested the slack in the chains. He knew that they were attached to a metal bar that went through the very flesh of the male's penis. Surely that had to be mighty tender, and Colt knew that it was his best chance. "I'll make you kill me, you son of a bitch," he whispered, "And I'm gonna laugh my ass off while you're doing it."

Colt closed his eyes and clenched his fists tight. In his mind he pictured every last drop of his strength flowing to his arms and chest. There was a tingle, almost electric, in his fingertips. "It's your turn to scream now, you bastard." A deep breath, two, three...and then with all of the power he could summon he jerked his arms forward. The chains snapped taut. Beneath him the massive organ shifted, rolling him slightly to the side. He thought he felt the barbell moving and he pulled harder, then began to jerk his arms violently. Sweat from his limbs rose in steamy curls.

The giant stirred. His hand rose and loomed over Colt, descended toward him --

"Do it!" Colt gritted...

-- and then continued past, reaching to scratch at a lazy itch on the massive scrotum before retreating again.

Colt's strength and his defiance both faded away and he collapsed in tears.

Hours passed before with a rumbling groan the giant sat up, his arm sliding gingerly from beneath the female's neck. Pausing a moment to nuzzle her cheek, the male swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The great feet impacted the floor with a thump and Colt was hauled upright. Each jarring step swung and smacked him against a mighty thigh -- bong, bong, bong, he thought crazily, just like Shanahan -- until he was suddenly blinded by a blaring light.

When his eyes cleared he was peering straight downward, past the flare of the giant's glans and into a gleaming silver bowl far below. He felt a rumble against his back as hundreds of gallons of waste coursed through the fleshy tube and poured down, falling to the bowl below in a frothy cascade that roared like a tidal wave.

Colt raised his head and saw the giant staring at him -- no, not at him. Past him. The captor's attention was entirely on the task at hand. His prisoner was beyond notice, not even an afterthought, not even a prisoner.

A tool.

A toy.

The giant gripped both his penis and its unhappy captive between his fingers and gave it a rough shake, leaving Colt so dazed that he barely felt the dizzying sway and the meaty impacts as the giant returned to his mate's side. Once again the room settled into silence stirred only by the breathing of the giants, the hound's sleepy grunts and whimpers, and Colt's own quiet, mindless laughter.

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