The Telemachus Story Archive

Gorm the Galactic Slaver
Part 2 - Fun to Fly
By Wolfpek (Illustrated by Herodotus)
Email: Wolfpek

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It wasn't easy, Gorm nearly triggered more than one deadly trap accessing the hold. He had to admit this Rawlins was almost as crafty as he... almost. Nonetheless, Gorm was impressed. Someone with Rawlnis' skill could be a valuable ally, or formidable opponent. Gorm smiled. Unfortunately for Rawlins, his beauty demanded a different fate. The slaver, had no time to calculate the fortune in contraband as he made a quick tour of the unoccupied ship, but if he succeeded, there was more than one treasure to claim. A quick transmission to transport left instructions to bring a new ship in tow at rendezvous.

He let out a low whistle as he entered the bridge. It was old, and battle scarred but he could see this sucker could perform, and had brought it's skilled owner out of a lot of scrapes. Yeah this baby would be fun to fly. He pulled out his tool kit, and went to work on the captain's chair. His concentration was interrupted by the sound of a gun and a pleading female voice

Gorm's eyes rolled skyward, it seems the barmaid had a husband., a klingon no less He peeked through the window. His prey sped toward the ship in an armored jeep with a box under his arm. Our hero had absconded with more than a woman's virtue. Gorm chuckled, boys will be boys. The hold door banged open and the space cowboy burst in, shot back once and raced toward the controls. The engines roared to life, and the ship shot into the sky. Gorm clutched his stunner, and wondered if this might be easier than he thought, when the barrel or Rawlin's blaster answered that question.

"You best drop your weapon and show yourself, fore I have to clean your brains of the floor"

The threatening drawl was like distant thunder, rough calm, but somehow gentle. Gorm's knees felt like water at the sound. He placed his beloved weapon in the ground, raised his hands and stepped into view. Rawlins hadn't even taken his eyes of the controls, and yet the blaster was aimed directly between Gorm's eyes. Damn, this stud was good. The blaster never left it mark, as the captain's chair swiveled to face the intruder. The very picture of cool.

Gorm's breath stopped in his throat as Rawlins rose, godlike, to tower over him. His eyes rolled over the perfect form. The square jaw, the recess at the base of the thick neck peaking from the top button of the homespun shirt, stretched over the massive pectorals, and biceps. The holster, delicous, hanging oh so low on those thin hips and impossibly tight sand coloured breeches, perfectly outlining his rounded thighs, and long fat manhood.

"Who are you?"

"Please... my name is Gorm. I don't mean any harm. I was running from empire troops. They have my ship surrounded, and I had to hide somewhere. I've lost my cargo.. look I can fly really well.. I can help you"

"Just what kinda cargo you haulin?"

Suddenly the ship rocked with the shake of a blast.. The barmaid's husband was not about to quit.

"Look trust me. I want to live too. How about we get out of this mess, and I'll tell you."

Gorm thought his heart would explode as Rawlins' piercing blue eyes burned into his very core, then the square jawed space cowboy nodded toward the co-pilots chair.

The gun never lowered but Rawlins had no choice but to trust him.

Their pursuer, slow and clumsy, was easily evade by the seasoned outlaws, and the ship slowed to a relaxed pace

Rawlins eyed him with with something like grudging respect .

"Nice flyin'."

"Thanks, not so bad yourself."

"I can drop you at the nearest way station. So what cargo did you say you were haulin?"

Gorm smile was cold petroleum. "You."

Like a pouncing spider, captain's char sprung to life. Oily tentacles burst from the back and arms to wrap tightly around heroic limbs. The buttons on Rawlins' shirt flew across the room, as his overtaxed shirt succumbed to the frantic struggle, exposing his massive writhing torso. Just enough hair nestled into the deep pectoral flesh to outline rather than cover the rippling muscles, already a stain of precum darkeend the the light fabric of his breeches

Gorm's syringe was filled with a powerful paralytic. It left its victims barely conscious but so overwhelmed with sexual need the could not move

Rawlins growled as it plunged into his heaving left tit. His struggling slowly subsided into stillness.

Right on time he felt his ship dock with captured vessel

The tentacles released the limp hunk heavily face down onto the floor. Gorm admired the planes and curves of his vanquished prey. and then kicked the stud face up. He allowed his hands, and lips to explore every inch of rock hard flesh as revealed the perfect form, counting each abdominal ridge with his lips, until he met the resistance of the snug breeches. He reached for the holster.... no.. he would keep this. It looked so good hanging from those hips. The pants disappeared in one hungry rip, but the boots remained as well, somehow these talisman's added to his captive's potency. He ran his hand slowly up the vulnerable inside of the tree trunk thigh and dared to take the stud's cock in his hand. Rawlins' moaned softly, his head rocked from side to side. It was surprisingly heavy, and he could barely circle it with his fingers. This one was worth a fortune.

His eyes ran lovingly and somewhat sadly over the helpless naked form.

Power still radiated from this space cowboy, like heat from the sun. Moments ago he was a godlike warrior, his most formidable opponent, and now, like all the others impriisoned in his tubes, a valuable object, to be bartered, bought and sold by far inferior beings. The thought made his eyes and his loins burn for this precious moment this stud belonged only to him.

He pulled his merchandise up, by a thick veined forearm, and shifted the dead weight onto his shoulders

The powerful outlaw, hung helpless and naked, save for the holster and boots, over the slaver's shoulder.That ass, coveted by so many, finally exposed and raised like the prize it was, carried toward it's new life. It wasn't until Gorm had strapped the mind controller firmly in place that he noticed something was missing from the stud washer...

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