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Message-ID: <34353asstr$1009674603@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: cyberczar@despammed.com
Subject: {ASSM} (RP) [9/12] Pact with The Devil (ASFR, MF, MM, cons, mc, nc, scifi)
Date: Sat, 29 Dec 2001 20:10:03 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

                                   Chapter 9
                                  Hitchhiking

   Michael walked around Los Angeles for several days trying to figure out
   what he was going to do next. From Compton to Beverly Hills he traversed
   the county searching for a purpose.

   He was approached on several occasions by men and women looking for a
   quick lay, and narrowly avoided running into the clan from Melrose Place
   when he came up with the idea of heading north to San Francisco.

   Alongside the highway he stood with no bags. Just his jeans and T-Shirt.

   He prominently stuck out his thumb, poinint northward. For several minutes
   cars whizzed by him. One or two honked their horns when a big rig came
   from over the horizon and gradually slowed down.

   The rig pulled off to the side and stopped just in front of him. Michael
   walked over, climbed up, and opened the door.

   ``Where you headed?'' the driver asked. He was big, and burly.

   ``San Francisco.''

   ``Hop in, I'm going to Alameda. I'll take you.'' he said.

   Michael got in the cab of the 18-wheeler and the two sped off down the
   highway.

   ``So why are you going to San Francisco?'' asked the driver.

   ``Looking to start over,'' he said.

   They spent the next hour or so listening to the radio and talking about
   nothing in particular. Things started to go rough for Michael when the
   driver reached from under his seat and pulled out a batton.

   ``What are you doing with that?'' he asked.

   ``This!'' the driver yelled as he swung the batton and hit Michael on his
   head. The force of the blow caused his memory and CPU to crash and Michael
   was rendered unconscious.

   Michael came to several hours later after his circuits reset and found
   himself naked on the ground in a forest. He tried to get up, but couldn't
   and looked down and noticed his limbs were severed.

   ``Help!'' he cried out, as tiny sparks were still coming from his
   shoulders and hips.

   ``Good, you're awake,'' the man said coming from the bushes. He was
   holding Michael's left leg and was pulling on something causing his foot
   to flex up and down. ``Care to tell me what the fuck you are?'' he said
   tossing the leg next to him.

   ``I don't understand,'' Michael said.

   ``BULLSHIT!'' the man yelled. ``You're not human. What are you, some kind
   of alien or something?''

   Michael said nothing, as he saw the man rummaging around.

   The big rig driver got a pole about 3 feet tall, and about 2 inches in
   diameter and stuck it into the ground. He picked Michael up by his hair
   and shoved him down onto the pole, sticking it up into his ass.

   As the rod impaled Michael up the ass, it triggered circuitry in him; the
   electronic version of a male's prostate gland. This caused Michael to
   become aroused and orgasm. Constantly. Michael's dick sprang to attention
   and he began ejaculating all over the place. Pulse after pulse he shot his
   load up and it fell onto the ground.

   ``Motherfucker,'' the man said. ``FREAK!'' and he ran off.

   This went on for several hours, well into the night. Mutilated, he
   couldn't do anything but look down and watch. The only thing causing him
   not to go virtually insane was the he was having too much fun. With each
   shot of his load, Michael orgasmed again, and this pleasure was keeping
   him from feeling the pain.

   Around midnight or so, Michael ran out of cum and his body was pumping
   dry. As the juices trickled and eventually stopped, Michael stopped
   feeling the orgasms which were consuming him for the many hours earlier
   and was starting to feel real pain.

   Pain of the rod stuck in his ass. Pressure.

   Pain of trying to shoot a load where none existed.

   Now, instead of each pulse bringing him joy and pleasure; each pulse
   brought with it excruciating pain.

   He let his mind wander to try not to think about the pain he was suffering
   and didn't notice the sunrise.

   As the birds started to chirp, a flash of light and smoke came from
   nowhere and the devil woman appeared again before him.

   ``Michael,'' she said.

   He didn't respond.

   ``Michael?!''

   Again, nothing.

   She reached down and grabbed his balls. ``Michael!'' she yelled.

   Startled, he opened his eyes. ``You!'' he said angrily. ``Did you do this
   to me?''

   Laughing hysterically she replied, ``Nope, this isn't my work but I'd sure
   like to meet the guy who did this to you.''

   He looked down and away from her.

   ``Don't you know smoking can be bad for your health,'' she said.

   ``What are you talking about, I don't smoke.'' he said.

   ``You are now,'' she replied running her fingers up his shaft. Smoke was
   starting to billow out his pee-hole as the pump inside him which caused
   him to ejaculate burned up from trying to pump air.

   ``Oh my god!'' he yelled. ``Make it stop! Make it stop!''

   ``How long have you been like this,'' she asked.

   ``About 14 hours or so.''

   She stepped around the rather large puddle of robo-cum which had
   completely surrounded him.

   ``What would you do without me?'' she said, leaning over to lick his
   cheek. With a snap of her fingers, Michael's limbs were reattached. He
   stood upright, and pulled himself up, along with the pole which was still
   stuck up his ass, out of the ground.

   ``Dick on a stick!'' the woman cried out. ``I like this!'' She snapped her
   finger again and he was sticking up in the air, the pole firmly in her
   grasp, as if she was holding a torch.

   ``Hey!'' he yelled.

   Again, the devil snapped her fingers. This time Michael was [1/10]th his
   size as the Devil licked him from his balls to his head like a popsicle.

   ``Please!'' he cried out again, his voice many many octaves higher.

   ``You sound like a chipmunk,'' she said giggling.

   With one final snap, Michael was again his normal size and was standing in
   front of her, ankle deep in the puddle of cum.

   ``Yuck!'' he said when he realized where he was standing, and jumped out.

   He ran down to the stream at the bottom of the ravene, and dipped his feet
   in to wash off the glop. When he walked back up the hill, the devil was
   standing, talking on a cell-phone.

   ``Uh huh,'' she said. ``You shoulda been here, it was hysterical.''

   He walked over to his clothes and began putting them on, and placed the
   remote in his back pocket.

   Laughing, the Devil continued her conversation. ``I'm telling you, Dick on
   a Stick! We should patent it.''

   Michael got dressed as she ended her conversation and flipped the phone
   close.

   ``That Lucifer,'' she said outloud. ``What a character.''

   ``I thought you were the Devil.'' he said.

   ``I am.''

   ``Then aren't you Lucifer?''

   ``Hell, No!'' she said with a chuckle. ``Lucifer's my brother.''

   ``Then who are you?''

   ``I'm Christine.'' She squatted down in front of him and took a piss.
   ``So, where were you going?'' she asked him as she got up.

   ``San Francisco.'' he replied; and with a snap of her fingers, he was
   there.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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