The Telemachus Story Archive

Gorm the Galactic Slaver
Part 6 - The First Rule of Flying
By Wolfpek (Illustrated by Herodotus)
Email: Wolfpek

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Gorm could not believe he was to witness this nightmare twice.

Once again the claw enfolded an unsullied classic torso and carried its prize to the flat stone. One again the parasite inhaled his victim's essence, but this time, all the arms took a slow turn tracing every ripple and curve of the muscular flesh-scape laid out before it. The tongue creature followed along the journey.

Under the influence of the mind controller the heroic outlaw moaned, every rippling muscle undulated with every feathery insect touch.

The second bar came free, allowing Gorm just enough space to slip though. But remained rooted to the spot.

Unlike the creatures he hunted, the slaver was not brave. His audacity in capturing the strongest, most powerful young bucks in the galaxy, was born not of courage, rather simply because he knew exactly how to exploit their weaknesses; vanity, cocky-ness, the youthful belief in invincibility. It was easy for him. But when it came down to the moment of truth, Gorm was essentially a coward. This was clearly his only chance. The bug was distracted and he had the element of surprise, but terror held him still in its grip. Terror and the sight of the naked object of his adoration writhing helpless in the perilous clutches of a lethal reptillian space-insect.

Pasozyt removed the mind controller, but Mal continue to writhe seductively roiling muscles mesmerizing the monster who continued to gently stroke his captive.

Suddenly Rawlins struck, kicking the legs from under the surprised creature and rolling like lightning into a defensive position. Somehow, in spite of the mind controller, he had been aware of his surroundings, and was ready for his chance

Gorm had the rare treat of watching Rawlins in action, a sight almost as thrilling as watching him naked, bound and in peril.

There was a reason he was considered the best. Even unarmed and naked, he had sheared off three of the snapping arms, and gracefully avoided the hail of snapping pincers.

Unthinkably Pasozyt was in trouble. He had lost half of his limbs and facing an opponent like he had never seen.

But there were things Rawlins didn't know. While the outlaw was facing off the remaining pincers, Pasozyt's tail whipped around and injected a paralytic barb into the neck of his adversary.

The rouhneck froze, desperately trying to move or speak. The injured creature draped the fallen beauty back over the flat stone, raised the powerful legs, and placed his monstrous member against the helpless heroic hole. Rawlins moaned in protest.

Gorm finally overcame his cowardice. He could not lose Rawlins, and was willing to risk his life to save him for himself.

He was about to leap into action when he was blinded an explosive flash of light that shook the cave. Stalactites shattered to the floor.

The stench of burning flesh permeated the cave. When the smoke cleared Gorm was stunned to see the twitching carcass of Pasozyt with a smoldering hole burned through his thorax.

Knurek stood at the far end of the cave with a smoking blaster. "Get your filthy paws of my property, you cheating cockroach"

The ruthless pig stepped over the still twitching body and stood over the groaning paralyzed hero. He grabbed the rugged square jaw in his bejeweled cloven hand, leaned in close as if for a kiss, and shouted in between the sensuously parted lips.

"Remember me you shit faced piece of beef???"

Mal could only grunt in response.

"You should. You've stolen a fortune from me over the years, and the ONLY REASON I let you live is because one day, somehow, some way, I was gonna have that big beautiful ass of yours, all to myself."

The the porcine caresses turned without warning into a brutal punch to the same jaw. Blood trickled from Rawlin's nose, two clammy paws hungrily explored chiseled muscle, greedily cupping the rounded pectorals, painfully kneading at the breadbasket abdominal row, and squeezing the ripe round balls. The drugged hero hollered in pain.

Knurek squealed in delight.

"I'm gonna make back every cent you ever stole from me. I'm gonna rent your aching hole to every space slug, and Klingon from here to Antares."

"But not until I've banged it to hell first."

Like Pasozyt before him, he lifted the ankles high and wide and buried his tusked snout deep into Rawlins cleft, snorting as if he were hunting truffle. Satisfied with the lubrication, he pulled out and yet another cock, this one corkscrewed, pressed against the tiny opening.

Knurek threw his jowly head back and squealed like a stuck pig. Not in ecstasy but because he had,in fact, become a stuck pig.

One dying parasitic pincer was protruding from his chest. In one last act of rage, Pasozyt had pierced him right through, even the large gold medallion was split in two.

Blood spurted from his mouth and snout, his he turned slowly with his last ounce of strength, blasted the triangular head, and then he fell.

The bidding war was over.

The adversaries lay in a rotting heap of eternal competition.

Gorm emerged shivering from his mouse hole, taking a careful wide berth of the two carcasses.

Now it was his turn to stand over the fallen idol.

The brushed the soft, sweat slicked hair from the dark brow, and gazed deep into hazel eyes.

Mal's head rolled feverishly from side to side, his sinewy form squirmed and struggled, still trying to fight it's way to freedom. He seemed to be trying to form words. "Yo.. You.. fuc.. n ... bastard."

Gorm soothingly stroked the roiling muscles. "'s alright now, save you strength."

"If ever... see me free."

Gorm patted and hushed as if trying to still a crying child.

"I..I'll ..see .. you.. dead.. you .. son of a"

Gorm stroked the vengeful face. "Shhhh... it's all over now, you're mine."

He closed Mal's protesting mouth with a deep and longing kiss, exploring the landscape of his mouth with a curious tongue.

He took the threat very seriously. It made the conquest all the sweeter. He playfully pinched a pert nipple, and lay flat along his recaptured prize savoring every inch of bare skin, pressing his need into the hero's groin. Images of Mal long ago, swaggering, cocksure and dangerous in the space station bar, those breeches so tight, and then helpless in the deadly embrace of the parasite filled his mind and drove him mad with longing. He nibbled, licked and suckled very uncovered inch of golden flesh. Mal's fat cock was an effort,even for a pro like Gorm, but with minimal gaging and beguiling skill, he robbed the hunky outlaw of his seed.

He stood and rolled the limp stud over on his eight pack, and pulled his ankles so that the muscled ass lay bent and presented up over the flat stone, his toes barely touching the cave floor.

The two perfect spheres arched helplessly finally and forever for his exclusive pleasure.

Fortunes had been wagered, battles fought, and lives lost, all for he right to these two mounds of granite muscle. From this angle, Gorm could see why.

He dove in tongue first remembering the sweet taste, but this time it wasn't enough.

Rawlins growled when he again, felt the threatening pressure, but this time nothing remained to save him.

Gorm was good at conquering stud's asses. He wanted it to hurt, but not too much, he felt the rhythm of the outraged muscles and expertly eased his way in. Mal arched his back in shock but the howl was not entirely one of pain. Herculean arms desperatley clawed and flailed at the unsympathetic stone, until they finally resigned to jig in time with each manic thrust, riding a wild wave between the shores of worship and rape.

The mind blown stud would never know if it was the paralytic barb, or something else that arched his hips up to meet the passionate violation, but it would never again matter. He could only whisper a hoarse "No..."

Gorm began to thrust harder into the sweet virgin chute constricting around his needful cock, and clawed into the massive pectorals for leverage.

For the sake of his rugged, uncontrived beauty, Rawlins had been drugged, bound, auctioned and almost eaten alive, but until this moment, he had never really been taken.

Gorm owned him now, and they both knew it. Rawlins came onto the blood spattered stone, and overcome, fell from consciousness. Gorm exploded into the ravaged hole and stood still or a moment feeling the tight muscles hug his spent member before pulling out.

The slaver removed the barb, replaced the mind controller, and threw his insensate quarry over one shoulder arching those muscles high and tight in the dim fetid haze.It would not be the last time the doomed stud would be transported in this way, the pert curves of his ass bent to the wide world, The thought awoke Gorm's spent loins to a fresh burn. He hurried his dangling prize away from this dark place, impatient to penetrate Mal's dark place once more.

After Gorm's echoing footsteps had long faded, the only sound left to the lonely cave was the steady drip of ooze from the stalactites... until... A tiny scratching sound broke the stillness. Pasozyt's wounded son, stirred and then dragged itself on it's regenerating limbs to he carcass of it's father. It sniffed looking for any sign of life and then began to feed upon the rotting flesh of it's progenitor. It would need it's strength. It had learned much and seen something it wanted, very, very badly.

Lightening bugs danced with the stars winking down over Allatoona lake. Something bright and incredibly fast seemed to shoot across the jeweled star scape.

Trey Watkins looked over a mountain of empty beer cans at his shirtless buddy Beau Morgan and wonder how it was that after consuming so much beer, they could still sport eight pacs.

The two marines were on leave, and had taken an overnight camping trip to escape the constant noise of teenaged wives and squealing children.

Then he remembered his question. "Hey Beau, did you see that?"

Beau stretched like a yawing lion, his muscles splayed and rippled with nonchalant vanity

"See what?'

"That light in the sky."


"You think maybe? nah..You think maybe that coulda been one of 'em UFOs?"

"You dumb drunk hick. You know you're exactly the kinda hillbilly that gets drunk and sees a damn UFO."

"Then what the fuck was that?"

"It was a goddamn shooting star, numb nuts, now toss me another beer... Hey! Who the fuck're y...?"

The beer can rolled, unopened, from the dwindling campfire, to the shoreline.

Gorm installed his two new prizes into the transport tubes carefully. Recent experience had taught him to take every precaution, and then headed back to the bridge.

Mal Rawlin's had been the best pilot in the known universe. There was a secret known only to a few; he still was.

Gorm saw no need to waste talent. He had adjusted the mind controller to interface with the ships controls, and gave himself a sex slave who could also drive.

He had adjusted the pilot's seat too. It forced the hunk forward into a kneeling position, arching his luscious naked ass invitingly up toward a second chair behind it. the bases was on an adjustable spring that could allowed its occupant to be pulled back and forth, or up and down as a jack in the box. Clamps connected his high pert nipples to the chair, and a suction device ensured that his spherical glutes were always pleasing raised, and kept the stud in a constant state of arousal.

Gorm settled happily into the second chair and, as always, into Rawlin's unwilling yet unresisting ass as they sped through the galaxy together, hunting for new treasures. Life was good for Gorm the Galactic Slaver. Yes, he thought, as he pumped his feverish need into his cherished slave, this baby is fun to fly.