Storytime Sam

Alien Ground Zero

Chapter One
Life as we know it

On an average Wednesday, in an average town, located in an average part of the United States, something definitely not average occurred. The people in the town experienced a strange dread, specifically making them wary to approach Emerson elementary school, Washington middle school, and Grant-Thorton high school.

You see, these three schools, catering to children from the kindergarten all the way through twelfth grade, surrounded a rather large field that separated them while making forming them into their own little community. The students from these schools knew each other, frequently saw each other prior to and after school, and would often co-mingle during lunch on the large grassy expanse. In a way, having these three schools virtually in the same place made it easy for busy parents to drop of their children without having to haul little Timmy a great distance to his second grade while his older sister Kelly went to her high school. In fact, the schools were so close, they actually shared one administration, one playground, and one athletic complex large enough to hold all twelve hundred students, or the entire student bodies from all three schools. Yes, things were pretty average in this town, where one hundred kindergarteners would enter Emerson at the beginning of every year and one hundred seniors would graduate Grant-Thorton at the end of every year. Average, that is, until today.

For as second period was just getting started, Mr. Besker had a strange feeling overcome him; a sense that he didn't belong in the science room. No, he knew for sure he was not where he was supposed to be. In fact, as he stood lecturing his seventh graders about protons and neutrons, he began to be afraid. Something was coming. Something was coming very soon. Something was coming now, and it was only a matter of time before his fear would be justified and his terror rewarded with something dreadful. And so, to the surprise of his students, Mr. Besker simply walked out of the classroom, out past the parking lot, into the street, and into the local neighborhood. So did Mrs. Adams, the librarian. So did Ms. Jameson, the third grade teacher. And Mr. Johnson, Mrs. Tanner, Mrs. Demsy, and all of the other adults in all three schools. Every teacher, every aid, every administrator and every janitor.

But that wasn't all. As the male half of the student body watched curiously, each and every girl, from the youngest second grader (for on Wednesdays, both the kindergarten class and the first grade class were sent to a learning center across town to work with specialists in early-childhood educational development) to the oldest senior, proceeded to stop whatever she was doing and follow the adults on their mysterious exodus, feeling the same unease and need to escape that was directing their teachers and administrators. Confused boys watched as their female friends, girlfriends, and classmates simply stop everything they were doing and left. Many of them wondered if a fire alarm had been pulled or maybe the mass departure was some sort of joke. Several boys made to follow their teachers and female classmates but found that, as soon as they decided to leave, they were overcome with the feeling that they shouldn't go anywhere. None did.

In the span of ten minutes, as the boys conversed among themselves about the enigmatic departures, the entire area around and inside of the schools was evacuated by every adult and every female student. Twelve-year-old Tracy Ericson, when later asked by her parents, would only respond "It seemed like I HAD to keep going, I had to get as far away from the school as possible." Indeed, everyone who left that morning echoed her thoughts; the compulsion to leave was overwhelming and demanding.

It was at this point that something even stranger occurred. If one had been tempted to look up above the schools, one would have noticed something that would have shocked and amazed them. An object, fluid but obviously solid, large but with indistinguishable mass, shapeless but with definite form, slowly came to settle on the large grassy area in between the three schools. It was unique. Different from every organism in the world; for indeed it did not come from our world. It had no thoughts, in the same way we humans think, yet it did have some sort of instinct. It knew what it wanted and it knew what it needed. It knew how to project fear to the people throughout the town so as to protect itself from their anger.

For indeed, they would be angry because this creature was about to interact with their male young. It knew that, though no harm would come to the juvenile males through its interaction with them (in the same way someone might try to help a young bird by putting it back in its nest after falling out), after interacting with the young, the humans would be upset and might refuse to accept their offspring back into their nests (in the same way a mother bird might smell humanity on its recently returned fledgling and might drive it from the nest). And this creature, through what we might call compassion or perhaps altruism, had no desire for pain to be brought either to the juvenile males in the schools or the adults in the town. Pain, the creature decided, was to be avoided at all cost. Pleasure, on the other hand 3;

Every living creature exists by extracting from its environment some form of sustenance. Humans eat things grown in the grown and the flesh of beasts. Some creatures only eat flesh. Others only eat vegetation. What's important to note, however, is that Earth creatures represent a sliver of the nourishment patterns found within this universe. The micro-Borgas on Vetta 5 eat pure copper. The Hadissa Kepta on Raigas Prime eat acidic condensation, or acid clouds. The Nuba people eat memories. This creature, the one now sitting on the green grass under a warm springtime sun, eats pleasure. Not every day, mind you. Not once a week nor once a year. Actually, the creature only needs to dine on pleasure one every three hundred thousand years, and the last time it fed was, well, three hundred thousand years ago!

James Hiddleberry, a fifth grader at Emerson, has a saying: "If I don't like broccoli, I won't eat broccoli. I love French fries, so I'm going to eat French fries!" Unfortunately for James, he isn't the only living thing in the universe that ascribes to this type of mentality with regards to mealtime. The creature has a similar type of mantra: "Pleasure tastes sweetest when it is new or only recently discovered. Pleasure from those already acquainted with it is not particularly filling, and rather bland besides. The pleasure from males is delicious and enjoyable while the pleasure from females tends to be sour and off-putting" And unlike James, who may have to eat broccoli every once in a while, the creature, who waits a long time between feedings, will always eat what it wants because, quite frankly, no one is going to stop it. Hence, the lack of female young and adults.

Eventually, as the creature settled into a comfortable position and began to salivate over its upcoming meal, two things occurred. First, it extended its own electrical field around the three schools, acting as a solid barrier and whose purpose was to keep its (for lack of a better term) prey confined. Second, it began to extend its sensory and food retrieval organs.

Of these organs, there were five. First was a basic and simple tentacle that would come to be known as a Prodder. These Prodders come in all shapes and sizes, though a distinguishing characteristic is that they all have a flared head, similar (but not near as pronounced) to a mushroom. Some Prodders are so small around that they cannot be seen. Some are as large around as an oak tree. The skin of these Prodders is slick, secreting evenly a slippery fluid called spooge that reduces friction a considerable amount.

The second organ was called a Sucker. These tentacles are similar to the Prodders, but end in a type of mouth like organ whose depth ranges from mere millimeters to a dozen inches and is filled with thousands of micro-filaments that wiggle and compress with a great deal of dexterity. The Suckers also produce the slippery fluid called spooge and have a small Prodder embedded in their organ which acts, in many ways, like a tongue.

The third organ was later referred to simply as a Feeder; a very special organ that interacts with other organisms in a very unique way. The Feeder, whose end is capped with a small mound of flesh, attaches to the main nerve center of a creature (in a humans case, the back of the head right above the spinal column) and acts as an umbilical cord between the prey and the creature – allowing the creature to send huge quantities of necessary nutrients to the captured prey.

The fourth organ, though never noticed by any of the humans who ended up near it, would best be described as a Spiggot. The Spiggot is a small organ with a nozzle at the tip. Unlike the other organs, which all can grown to near infinite lengths, the Spiggot only grows about three feet [~1 m] out of the organism's body. The Spiggot expels into the air a spray of venom which fills the enclosed space around the organism (thanks to its projected electrical field) and is inhaled by its victims. This spray is designed to interact with the victim's biology to produce two effects.

First, because the organism needs to feed off pleasure, it needs to be able to draw a great deal of pleasure out of its prey. Most creatures can achieve their peak pleasure only once and must then wait a long period of time before being able to do so again. The venom erases this waiting period, making creatures capable of continuously hitting their pleasure peaks without causing any biological or neurological damage to itself. Additionally, the venom makes the creature experience a constant sexual awareness; a major arousal whose purpose is to make it more susceptible to the ministrations of the organism's many appendages.

Second, the venom acts as a very powerful healing agent, boosting the immune system of its victim 1000% and healing the victim of any types of injury. Any diseases of Earth, any birth defect or injury, any looming health problem will be easily corrected by the venom. In fact, this healing also has a calming effect which will help keep the victim's heart rate stable and breathing normal, making it possible to undergo something traumatic (like being caught by the organism in the first place) without dying of fright (as some animals are known to do when captured by a predator).

Finally (and an interesting side-effect), the venom exponentially speeds up the production of semen in males, and has the unique characteristic of causing immature testes to begin production of semen long before they normally would.

The final organ does not require a great deal of explanation and yet is probably the most important organ the organism has. Throughout the course of the day, many of the schoolboys would see these organs roaming the three campuses. Though unsure of their purpose, these organs are best called the Scoopers. Quite simply, at the end of this organ is a large bundle of nerves, about the size of a regular television set. This bundle of nerves acts as data entry points and 'scoops up' the energy in the area surrounding it, feeding that energy back to the organism. Simply put, these Scoopers extend to wherever pleasure is being generated and absorb, in an almost psychic fashion, the energy of the pleasure.

And so, while the boys throughout Emerson, Washington, and Grant-Thorton looked about with confusion that their teachers and female classmates were gone and realized excitedly that they had free reign of the classroom, they were unaware that hundreds of Prodders, Suckers, Feeders, and Scoopers were making their way toward them while hundreds more Spiggots pumped venom into the air. If they had, they would have soon realized that there was nothing they, or their classmates, or the local or national authorities, could do about what was coming next.

***

It had been a rather lackluster day for the sixteen and seventeen year olds sitting in Mrs. Chin's junior English class. Last night, many of them completed their reading of The Grapes of Wrath in time for the pop quiz that Mrs. Chin had sprung on them this morning. They were all bored – waiting mainly for the clock to inch closer to the next period and, hopefully, the end of the day. Several of them had made plans to meet afterschool at Burger King, while a few others had band or swimming or simply wanted to get home and crash. All in all, typical teenagers. When Mrs. Chin and the girls suddenly got up and left though, the boys, the pop quizzes they had been working on forgotten, looked around stupidly. Why would Mrs. Chin leave? Why would the girls? After all, the class was in the middle of a test!

Ten minutes after Mrs. Chin and the girls had left, each boy remained in his seat, chatting quietly with his neighbors about this new turn of events and wondering if this meant that class was dismissed. Several even suggested that someone go look for the missing students and faculty member, but though there was a great deal of agreement that that was the best course of action, none got up. Seventeen-year-old Jerry Rynman, who had continued to work the test and just finished the last question, put his pencil down and looked around, only now realizing what was going on. Hmmm 3; he thought to himself. I wonder where everyone is 3; Well, I'm sure Mrs. Chin will be back. I better put my test on her desk like she likes. So Jerry, being a good student, got up out of his seat in the back of the room, walked over to his teachers desk, and laid his test face side up on her desk. It was at that moment that something embarrassing happened. Jerry got an erection!

Now, Jerry had had plenty of erections while in school. In fact, it always seemed that he boned up right when he was supposed to go to the blackboard or at the very moment when Cynthia Black, the girl he'd been crushing over for two years, wanted to talk to him. Popping wood wasn't unusual. However, this was not a normal erection. Instead of taking a few minutes to chub up while thinking dirty thoughts about Cynthia's tits, Jerry went from 0 to 60 in an instant. Literally, no boner while laying the test on Mrs. Chin's desk, raging boner as he retracted his hand. Embarrassed (and horny all of a sudden), Jerry tried to keep his cool as he rushed back to his seat, feeling like all eyes in the room were on him and the obvious tent in his pants. Yet Jerry didn't need to worry, because every one of the sixteen boys in his class was focused on his own raging hormones and the sudden horniness that washed over him like a tidal wave.

One moment, Roy Tacky was joking with his friend Carlos Hernandez, the next moment he as doing everything he could to suppress a moan. One moment, he was soft; the next moment, he was hard as a rock. In fact, as he tried everything he could to gain control of his body, he heard several other boys let out little groans of sexual frustration. His body flushed. His cock began to dribble pre-cum. And, almost unconsciously, his hand drifted down to his raging erection and he fought with every ounce of willpower not to slip his hand down his pants and play with himself. Instead and with an intense effort, he managed to rearrange his tool so it was more comfortable, the desire to jack-off almost overpowering.

The rest of the class was no better. Just like Jerry and Roy, each boy found that, in the span of moments, they went from conversing with their friends and completely soft to hastily trying to rearrange themselves and leaking copious amounts of pre-cum into their boxers. What's more, just as each adjusted himself so his boner wasn't stuck at an odd angle, each discovered that he wanted nothing more than whip it out and fire off a load of knuckle-babies. Nate Silverman, the stud of the football team, thanks to the load he shot in the shower that morning and the load his girlfriend Angela Mercer had sucked out of him as he drove her to school only an hour ago, was the first to conquer his near overwhelming desire to jerk off and look around at his classmates. Though Nate wasn't the brightest bulb, it was infinitely clear to him as he scanned the room that something wasn't right.

He noticed Derrick Hamper, the asshole goth kid in the corner, pink in the face and panting. He noticed Jason Werner, the nerdy but friendly kid who sits next to him and sometimes lets Nate cheat off of his papers, trying desperately to pull his shirt down enough to cover what was obviously a major hard on attempting to break through his pants. The more he looked around, the more Nate realized that he wasn't the only one in the room who was feeling excessively horny all of a sudden; everyone was. And so, doing the only thing rational, Nate began to ask if anyone knew what was going on. He never completed his sentence. Only a few syllables in, the windows flew open, the door blew off its hinges, and a great deal of something entered the room.

***

Phil was excited. He and his best friend Andy were just putting the finishing touches on their rock crystal formation. Mr. French, the science teacher at Washington Middle School, had assigned this project expecting most of his students to shrug it off as just another boring assignment. That definitely wasn't the case with Phil and Andy. Both boys were smart. Both boys were driven. Both boys were constantly number one and number two in their sixth grade class. Though only eleven, each boy looked forward to the day that they could move on to highschool and would be afforded the opportunity to tackle complex science projects. And after that? College! Wow, Phil thought to himself as he finished writing down a description of the crystals. I know I'm going to ace this test that Mr. French is going to give us on Friday. And then I'll be valedictorian of my high-school class (unless Andy is, in which case I'll be happy for him, though I am NOT going to let him beat me out in gpa!) and then on to Harvard and then on to become a doctor and then become president! With that pleasing thought, Phil chuckled quietly to himself.

"What's so funny Phil?" asked Andy.

"Oh, nothing" responded Phil, "I was just thinking about the test on Friday. We are going to do so well, aren't we?"

"Ya," responded Andy, "I can't wait to see what Mr. French puts on the test. His extra credit questions are always really funny. Speaking of Mr. French, where is he? And where are the girls?"

Unobserved by Phil, Andy, and the rest of the eleven and twelve year old boys who were all busy goofing off with each other and trying to get their rock crystal formations up and running, Mr. French and the girls had slipped out a short time earlier. In fact, at that moment, they, along with many others, were already several blocks over and continuing their compulsive trek into the surrounding community. As the two boys continued to look around and ponder where everyone was, Charlie Hash and Christian Flanders, realizing their teacher and half the class was now absent, decided to make a little mischief. Both left their lab stations and began to approach the white board with the intention of drawing something comical and, perhaps, even lewd. They never made it.

Being eleven and twelve, the sixth grader boys in Mr. French's classroom were boiling over with hormones almost nonstop. In fact, as their bodies began the change into adulthood and their minds began to alter due to the influx of exotic chemicals, most of them could feel that something marvelous and major was happening in their lives. For some, like Charlie Hash, sex was an old friend. Having discovered masturbation at scout camp a year and a half ago, Charlie had been pleasuring himself as part of his nightly ritual every night before he dozed off to sleep. For other, like Shawn Zees, sex was something he had heard about and knew was coming, but he still hadn't discovered the joy of fiddling with his immature pricklett. But, regardless of personal knowledge that their own bodies could produce a euphoric pleasure, each boy in that classroom had noticed that members of the opposite sex (and in some cases, the same sex) were becoming more and more interesting – even attractive.

And yet, despite some having more experience than others, none were prepared for the sudden and powerful sexual urges that hit them with the force of a nuclear blast. Unlike their high-school counterparts, who all had experience with arousal and could control their bodies to some extent, the middle-schoolers were like empty cups suddenly and forcefully brimming over with water. Cocks sprung faster than they had ever sprung before as each boy suddenly became incredibly and overwhelmingly aroused.

Several of the boys, being normal eleven and twelve-year-olds, were already horny before the mass arousal hit. Jacob Sanders, Kevin McDougle, and Kyle Barkley were each finishing up his science project while hoping that his respective boy boner would go down soon. An inconvenience to be sure, each had sprung a woody earlier and was doing his best to avoid being noticed by his peers. When the massive wave of arousal hit, all three were pushed over the edge and climaxed; for Kevin, it was his first orgasm ever.

"Oh! Oh my god! Oh my god, whats.. whats 3; happening to 3; meeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!" screamed Kevin as he shook uncontrollably, his attention firmly focused on the brutally hard 3-inch [7 cm] cocklett in his pants that, though it was not ejecting any liquid from his body, still kept sending signals to his brain that over-loaded his senses. He came. And came. And came some more. "Ahhhhh" he screamed, seeing stars and planets and feeling like a molten core was trying to burst from his body. He had never cum in his entire life and it seemed that his eleven-year-old body was attempting to make up for lost time. As his boygasm hit and with no experience of such, Kevin could only wonder helplessly as his muscles shuddered, he broke out in an intense sweat, and his immature prostate did its best to expel the non-existent fluid his balls had yet to produce.

Also unlike their high-school counterparts, who had the ability to control their urges born from several years of puberty, the sixth grader boys in Mr. French's class had no such self-control. Heads were thrown back in moans. Hands moved from crystalline rock formations to rock hard nipples and began to rub those sensitive and sexy glands. Most of the boys shoved a hand into his pants and grasped his impossibly hard cock. Christian Flanders, halfway to Mr. French's desk and without even realizing what he was doing in front of his classmates, lifted his right leg onto a nearby empty chair, shoved his left hand down the front of his pants to grasp his boycock, and sent his right hand down the back of his pants to force his middle finger right up his ass – a trick he had learned only a few nights ago that would lead to an even better orgasm.

Within moments, the sixth grade boys were engaged with their bodies in a carnal fashion, pleasuring themselves fast and with the vigor that only an eleven or twelve-year-old could muster. And they all still had their clothes on! So focused on the onslaught of bodily feelings, none seemed to notice that the windows and doors had opened and a new onslaught was about to begin!

***

Seven-year-old Billy Fraizer was bored. His second grade teacher, Mrs. Kinsey, had left the classroom right in the middle of story time. One minute, Mrs. Kinsey was reading from My Dog Rufus, a cool chapter book about a magic dog named Rufus McBarker. The next minute, she was gone. This in and of itself wasn't entirely unusual though. Sometimes, Mrs. Kinsey left the room to talk on her cell phone and cry. He'd asked his mom about it one time and she'd said poor Mrs. Kinsey was getting a divorce, meaning she and her husband weren't going to live together any more. Billy felt bad for Mrs. Kinsey because she was so nice and a really good teacher. He just could wrap his head around why her husband wouldn't want to live with her. But his mom had told him not to talk about it and, being a good kid, he had kept his mouth shut.

What had made this time weird, though, was that the girls had left too! Each one of them had gotten up and followed Mrs. Kinsey out the door! Several of the boys, Billy included, had voiced questions at them as they left, but none of the girls or Mrs. Kinsey had answered. Billy thought about following them but, for some reason, couldn't. It was like he didn't want to. Like, he had to stay were he was. None of the other boys left either. Still, even though it was weird, Billy wasn't worried. They would come back because Mrs. Kinsey had promised them that they could do an art project later and there was no way she'd break her promise.

As the minutes ticked by and his classmates and he looked around at each other and waited for Mrs. Kinsey and the girls to come back, he began to daydream about what he was going to do after school. His best friend Peter Patakky and his other best friend Megan Ruints were going over to Peter's house. Peter's mom had agreed to let them come over and play and Billy was excited because Peter just got a new swing set built in his backyard. Megan had said that she could swing the highest on it, but Billy wasn't so sure. After all, Megan was a girl and everyone knew boys were better at that sort of thing.

It was a that moment that JD Daniels got up and, turning to his classmates, asked the question that was on everyone's mind. "Where'd everybody go?"

"I don't know", replied Michael Loverns, "do you think we were supposed to go too?"

"Probably" responded Terry Castro. "But they didn't tell us to."

"Well," interrupted JD, "I want to know what happens to Rufus McBarker!" And with that, the precocious seven year old, in his normal outgoing fashion, marched right up to Mrs. Kinsey seat, picked up the book, sat down, and began trying to puzzle out the words on the page. Despite being eight, JD was a natural leader and, due to taking the lead, his classmates all settled back down and attempted to pay attention. After all, if Mrs. Kinsey wasn't going to read to them, maybe JD could! And if the girls weren't here, too bad!

After picking a random paragraph to start (as JD wasn't sure where Mrs. Kinsey had left off), he began to read. It was tough going, though. Despite being a good reader for his age, JD struggled over some of the larger words. In the end, however, he began to find a bit of a rhythm and his classmates began to let their minds drift as he progressively, and sometimes haltingly, told the story of Rufus McBarker. A short time later, as JD was in the middle of describing Rufus's encounter with the mailman, something strange happened. Billy, who was paying attention to the story in an almost dazed fashion, suddenly felt as if he just jolted awake; as if he'd started to nod off and just as his head began to tilt forward, his mind snapped to attention. Yet, this was a different kind of attention and it most certainly was a different kind of snap. He felt more aware of his surroundings. His skin began to prickle and he got goosebumps. He became aware that his classmates had suddenly started breathing harder and, with that realization, discovered his own breath was much more labored than it had been moments earlier. He began to sweat. He quickly scanned the room, making eye contact with several of the other boys, noting that they too had begun to sweat and look otherwise flustered. Several of them had flushed faces, and each seemed to be imploring him with their eyes to explain why they suddenly felt so strange. Suddenly, the book JD was holding fell to the floor, and the noise of its impact startled the seventeen second graders from their stupor.

"I feel weird" said JD, with echo's of "me too" and "uh huh" coming just after. And with that, each boy seemed to suddenly realize that something was going on in his pants. The reaction was obvious. In a matter of moments, just after the strange feeling swept through the room, each boy became both erect and cognizant of the fact that he was erect. Sure, their wieners had all been hard before, but it never seemed to register to any of them as odd or different. Now, all their thoughts came flooding to that one organ – all their thoughts fleeing one head and into another. And the feelings themselves seemed to be demanding something – their little cockletts seemed to want, nay, need them to do 3; something. Unsure of how to calm their raging hormones, the boys all began to fidget in place and bounce around with unbridled energy. It felt, to them, like they were ready to pop.

The lone boy in the room that had some inkling of what was going on was seven-year-old Brian Catrell. For the past few months, his brother Carl, who was fifteen and in high-school, had been coming into his room at night and doing stuff to him. It started with Carl using his fingers to touch Brian 'down there' and making Brian touch Carl's hard wiener at the same time. A couple of weeks ago, Carl suddenly put his face down to Brian's little dickie and actually sucked on it like a popsicle. It felt kinda nice, Brian thought when Carl was doing it, but also kinda bad because Brian knew his brother shouldn't be doing it. When he had been forced to lick Carl's wiener in return, Brian had thought he was going to cry. It wasn't until Carl began to bob up and down really fast on Brian's little boycock that Brian suddenly started to feel really good down there and that good feeling, coupled with his brothers threats, convinced him to keep the whole thing quiet. Though Brian wasn't entirely sure he really liked the 'sex stuff' as his brother called it, and he sometimes dreaded what was to come when his door would open late at night and Carl would get in bed with him, the feelings now coursing through him reminded him of those many nights with Carl. And instead of feeling sad or yucky at the thought of his brother touching him and making Brian touch him back, Brian suddenly found himself craving those games. He shuddered with pleasure.

It was Billy who noticed something else had happened while he and his classmates were wrestling with their out-of-control and newly discovered urges. The classroom door and the windows had all been opened. As Billy was about to mention it, something unimaginable sprang from the thresholds and into Mrs. Kinsey's second grade classroom.

Memory Interlude #1
Alex Hernshaw

Thirteen-year-old Alex lay in his room unable to fall asleep. It was just after 2:00am and his parents had only left his bedside an hour ago, still considerably more distraught themselves over the events that had occurred throughout the day than was their teenage son. No, what his parents and the authorities continued to refer to as a horror and a nightmare seemed more like an odd, even somewhat pleasant, dream. Of course, Alex remembered the whole ordeal from beginning to end, but as his mind continued to recall the days events, he found that the memory was slightly fuzzy and incorporeal. It seemed to have both happened to him and to have not happened to him, with his mind trying to alternate between what it observed during the many hours he spent at what was quickly becoming known as AGZ or 'alien ground zero' and what it wanted to imagine his experiences looked like from an out of body camera angle.

Still, Alex was certain of two things. First, despite the adults continuing to refer to him and all the students as 'victims', Alex didn't feel victimized. In fact, he didn't feel horrible or guilty or afraid or repulsed at all. He felt like he had contributed to something great and that his contribution was valued by 3; well 3; Alex wasn't sure. But it was valued and it was important. He was important. The second thing Alex was sure of was that his mind's eye, despite showing the events of the day as hazy and ethereal, remembered the beginning of the experience with a great deal more clarity. Though Alex tried to think about many of the things that had occurred that day, many of the things he'd done and had done to him, his mind kept dragging him back to the first hour or so of his experience. And as he started to remember, he started to get erect. Slowly pulling the covers off of his bed and easing his pajama bottoms down, his hand wrapped gently around his hard 3½-inch [9 cm] member 3;

Just as second period was about to begin, Alex Hernshaw realized he had a problem. He had to poop. Not just that, he really had to poop. Like, a major poop. Damn, he thought to himself. I should have taken a shit this morning instead of sleeping in. Stupid alarm waking me up before the stupid sun even comes up! Ugh! Admonishing himself for his failure to take care of his morning necessities, Alex got out of his desk and walked up to Mr. James, his seventh grade science teacher.

"Excuse me sir, but can I 3; I mean may I go to the bathroom?" He asked as politely as he could. Mr. James was a cool guy and Alex figured he wouldn't have a problem. Sure Alex would miss the beginning of the class, but if he hurried, he wouldn't miss enough to make Mr. James mad.

"Go ahead, Alex," Mr. James responded, focused more on his lesson plan than the request presented to him. Alex was a decent kid and Mr. James knew he wouldn't get in to trouble. Plus, Alex got consistently good grades so that entitled him to a bit of leeway.

Alex nodded in thanks and made his way out of the classroom and towards the boys' bathroom. His classroom was on the far side of Washington middle school and the bathroom closest happened to be pretty far from most of the rest of the school. That being the case, it wasn't used much and would afford him a bit of privacy as he took the dump that was now starting to insist that it was ready to go.

Alex was a pretty normal thirteen year old. At 5'1" [1.55 m] and 98 pounds [44 kg], he was neither the tallest nor the shortest kid in his class. A bit on the slim side, much of his baby fat had already melted away but the musculature of adolescence was slow in coming. With his northern European ancestry, Alex sported clear pale skin (his mother kept dreading the development of acne, though none had appeared so far), a cute pug nose, wide blue eyes, and blondish hair kept somewhat short and impossible to tame. A light smattering of freckles graced the bridge of his nose, which some of the girls in has class had started to notice made him particularly interesting.

Still in the early stages of puberty, Alex had nothing under his arms, very fine blond hair on his arms and legs, and only a small patch of curly blond pubic hair above his circumcised 3½ inch [9 cm] cocklet. Though he knew that he had some working knowledge of sex and he knew that at some point he was going to be really interested in the subject, Alex found himself more interested in playing baseball and dirt bikes than he did in the girls whom he caught staring at him more and more frequently. Moreover, while he had heard people talk about jerking-off and basically knew what it was (of course, what kind of boy would he be if he hadn't!), he'd never really tried it himself. It's not that he didn't want to, mind you! It's just that, well, he just wasn't interested, you know? Of course, little did Alex know that within the hour, some part of his rational mind would wonder why he'd never thought to try and achieve orgasm through self manipulations! That's not, of course, to say that Alex had never had an orgasm! In fact, he'd had several over the last year. It's just that these rare occurrences happened in the middle of the night when, under the influence of half-understood and rarely remembered dreams, Alex found his body shaking with joy as his slumbering form humped his body against his bedsheets and his little pricklet signaled to his small balls to release their contents – a futile order as said contents wouldn't develop until just before AGZ.

Alex entered the bathroom quickly. Checking to make sure he was alone and sighing in relief that he'd be able to shit without anyone there to listen to him, he made his way to the second stall (as the first one was a bit, well, shitty) and proceeded to shut and lock the stall door. Making sure that the stall was clean, there was nothing gross on the seat, and there was plenty of toilet paper, Alex dropped his jeans and boxers and sat himself assuredly on the can. Within moments, Alex was pooping like his life depended on it. Ahhhh, he thought to himself as his belly gave a grumble of thanks. The joy of a good crap. For the next few minutes, Alex split his time doing his business and daydreaming as only a child can.

It was just as he was finishing up and beginning to contemplate wiping himself when Alex's world became unhinged. Within the span of a moment, Alex's penis went from soft and feeling normal to hard as a rock and sending a tide of sexual desire through the poor thirteen year olds nerve endings and straight into his brain. Alex threw his head back as he let loose a guttural moan. "Ohhhhhhhhhh!" he squealed, his voice cracking as it seemed to have been doing lately. Fast as lightning, Alex reached his hand toward his aching member hoping to calm his unexplained urge. As his fingers wrapped around the staining flesh, however, all thoughts of calm fled as the electric touch of his palm unlocked the natural instinct all boys have: to wildly and gloriously seek sexual gratification through the timeless art of masturbation. And masturbate he did – pumping his cock, for the first time in his life, with the desire to cum!

Up and down. Up and down. Up and Down. his subconscious screamed at him. Tight and loose. Tight and loose. Tight and loose. As part of him wondered what the hell he was doing, another part of him was relishing in the previously unknown pleasure that his hand and cock were generating. "Aw 3; Oh god 3; Oh my god 3; This is awesome 3;" he groaned as his hand flew around his pulsing flesh. Speeding up, Alex began to feel something coiling within him, something that felt like he was going to pop. Some 3; energy 3; seemed to raced through his body towards his penis and Alex could feel that this unknown energy was related to his actions. All he knew at that point was his hand, his cock, and the energy. Just before the feeling became unbearable and as the stars began to gather outside his field of vision, ready to rain down upon him in bliss, his other hand, as if directed by some magic, slipped along his smooth boy tummy, across his lean chest, and made contact with his taut sensitive nipple.

Alex came. Hard. Rope after rope of semi-translucent cum flew from the head of his cock as his small prostate contracted powerfully. The first jet, indeed, the first semen ever produced by Alex, shot wildly into the air two, almost three feet [90 cm], and landed on his blond hair, his cute face, and his t-shirt. The second, third, fourth, and fifth blasts poured out of him, most hitting him in the face and chest. The sixth, seventh, eighth, and ninth shots dribbled out onto his shirt and covered his fist that was still pumping his throbbing boycock. As he came, Alex rocked back and forth on the toilet, raising his legs into the air as they snapped taut under the intense pleasure. His toes curled. His jaw dropped. And he let out a scream of pure pleasure. "Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!" he squealed loudly, his mind going white and his eyes seeing stars.

Though his orgasm seemed to last eternity, eventually Alex began to come down from his high. Blinking rapidly and slowly putting the pieces of his experience together, Alex realized that he was sitting in the boys bathroom, covered from head to cock in what he remembered was called semen, and had just screamed at the top of his lungs as he had the most intense experience of his life. His face, already flushed and sweaty from his exertion, flushed even more. How embarrassing! I hope know one heard that, Alex thought to himself. Oh man, that was awesome! But jeez, what the hell came over me?

Taking a few deep breaths and readying himself to get cleaned up, Alex paused to ponder this new development in his life. His mind wandered and he began to put the pieces of his limited sexual knowledge into place. With the advent of his self-inflicted boygasm, Alex started to connect the dots within his mind as the wonderful world of sex opened up for him. Losing track of himself and the time, nearly ten minutes passed. However, his mind snapped to attention when Alex began to feel strange. He had just had an orgasm, right? Thinking quickly, he seemed to remember something from his health class about the chemicals in the brain being released after sex. While he knew he didn't just have real sex (like, between a boy and girl), he was pretty sure that doing what he'd just done was kinda sex. Right? And the chemicals, after orgasm, were the things that turned off the sex drive. That's why his friend Kyle's older brother Bobby said you can't just keep having sex – your brain turns you off after you cum. So why was his boycock, which had softened after he creamed himself, suddenly starting to harden again. And why, oh god, why did he suddenly want to start wanking again?

As his cocklett reached rigidity and his hand crept (despite knowing that he really shouldn't) back towards his stiffy, Alex raged a battle with himself. On one hand, he really wanted another wank. On the other, he still hadn't cleaned himself up, was covered in cum, and was missing class. Just as Alex reached the decision to stop and clean up, the door to the bathroom and the windows above the opposite wall all opened loudly and with a great deal of force. Alex couldn't see either of them, but he jumped when they slammed open anyway. Feeling suddenly embarrassed for the state he was in, nervous that whoever had obviously just entered would smell the now pungent aroma of teen boy jizz, oddly wary with a sense of foreboding, and, even stranger, content with the knowledge that everything was going to be alright, Alex froze in place. No footsteps sounded. The bathroom was quiet. Just as Alex was about to continue his task of cleaning up and making up his mind that no one was in the room with him, the bathroom stall door flew off the hinges.

Time stopped. Alex sat on the toilet covered in semen, his pants and boxers around his ankles, his throbbing member pointing straight to the sky, and his mouth desperately trying to articulate the shock that had him frozen in place. Before him, where a door had been was the strangest thing Alex had ever seen in his thirteen years of life. Several appendages floated a couple of feet off of the ground right at the entrance to the stall. They were clearish, somewhat see-through, and had the slightest tinges of rainbow-like color, similar to how a puddle of water with a thin sheet of oil on top looks when the sunlight illuminates it. They looked slick and near incorporeal. Several of the vines, or, better yet tentacles (Alex thought to himself) were incredibly thin with a few being damn near impossible to see. Others appeared thick, ranging from the size of Alex's wrist to as big around as his backpack. As Alex soaked in the sight before him, his gaze couldn't help but follow the long tendrils to their point of origin, with many cascading down the opposite wall after apparently having entered the bathroom through the high up window and with several others turning sharply in front of him and apparently having entered the room through the door to the hall.

Though it seemed an eternity, only a few heartbeats passed before Alex, his mind finally catching up to the events before him, ordered his brain to scream in surprise. Before he could under a sound, however, the tentacles rushed him, wrapping around his arms, legs, and torso while quickly, though gently, pulling the stunned Alex out into the middle of the bathroom and into the air. Before the shock of the sudden movement could wear off, Alex's arms and legs were pulled away from each other (gently but forcefully of course) and Alex, guided by the thick tentacle wrapped firmly around his hips and lower stomach, tilted him backwards so he found himself being held head-up at a forty-five degree angle. Quick as lightning, another couple of tentacles placed themselves behind his back and head so as to support the frail human child and, had Alex been in his right mind, he would have found himself snug, secure, and comfortable – though unable to move his own appendages.

The things wrapped around him felt soft as silk and somewhat fleshy. They also seemed to be covered in some sort of ultra-thin slime or goo whose slickness, Alex's jumbled mind concluded, should have made it impossible for the things to hold him securely. Yet secure, and interestingly enough unafraid, he was. What Alex wasn't aware of at that moment was that the creature, in the process of encountering the human offspring throughout the three schools, was busy collecting information on their biology, psychology, and physical capacities through the use of its conveniently placed Scoopers. Being a very old and very experienced organism, the creature only took a moment to thoroughly understand the human children and the best ways for it to garner pleasure from them. Then it did two things in rapid succession. First, it quickly adjusted the chemical composition of its venom being produced by its Spiggots so as to maximize its positive effects on the children. Almost immediately after, it sent out a message to its Prodders and Suckers: Proceed.

Without warning, small, almost invisible Prodders dove under Alex's clothing, snaking under his shirt and down deep into his socks and shoes. Several wrapped around his boxers and paints, stretched between his ankles, as well. Then, with dexterity and brute force, they scattered in many different directions, utterly tearing to shreds all of Alex's clothing while not causing Alex the slightest discomfort. Literally, he went from mostly clothed (despite his very naked pelvic region) to naked as a newborn. The clothing, the creature surmised, was an unnecessary impediment and needed to go.

Alex yelped as his clothing exploded around him. All of a sudden, several Prodders came out of nowhere and began to caress his captive body. These new appendages, all about the thickness of a number two pencil, found all his sensitive areas. They caressed his feet and hands. They stroked his calves and arms. Several slipped underneath him the much larger tentacle supporting his spine and began to massage his back, hips, and shoulders. Some crossed and re-crossed his delicious tummy, all the while coating Alex in a light layer of slippery spooge. Some of the very small Prodders found his underarms and gently, though vigorously, began to rub circles around his hairless teenage pits. A cluster of Prodders, all incredibly thin, approached his face and split apart, two of the smallest gently entering his ears just a fraction, two more snaking just a tiny bit into his nostrils, and several of the larger ones caressing his forehead, cheeks, neck. Seemingly content that they had all located the areas they wished to pleasure, all the Prodders around Alex's head began to vibrate. Seemingly chaotic, the Prodders worked with a purpose: though they were attacking all over Alex's body, they were conspicuously absent from his taut nipples, his still throbbing boycock, and his tight virgin (though somewhat grungy, as he hadn't started to wipe after relieving himself) asshole.

Despite everything that had happened between the moment when Alex began to feel the need to pleasure himself a second time while on the toilet and the moment when the Prodders around his face began to vibrate, Alex never once lost his erection. In fact, though his mind was taking in and processing the huge amounts of data that his capture had created and he had stopped focusing on his painful arousal, the sexual pressure within his body had continued to grow as the moments passed. With the Prodders on his face feeling wonderful and the Prodders caressing his body feeling just as good, Alex's horniness broke through his minds valiant efforts to make sense of his situation and he found himself engrossed in the waves of pleasure the Prodders were sending to his brain. It was with those realizations that Alex's body was pushed into his second kiddie-cum of the day and he came hard. Rope after rope of cum shot from his stiffy and, thanks to the creatures venom which by this point had totally immersed itself into his body, he came with more force and produced more spunk than he had only ten minutes earlier while pleasuring himself.

"Ohhhhhhhhh!" Alex wailed as his body introduced him to pleasures unknown and he continued to spill his seed in copious amounts. His skin flushed in joy, he broke out into a body-wide sweat, and though this boygasm had caught him off guard and he had not felt the build up to it, it was thanks to the new alien chemicals racing through his body that his peak lasted a great deal longer and his orgasm faded much slower than it normally would for a human male. This being the creature's goal, it gleefully shared in his pleasure.

After a long and satisfying orgasm, Alex's tense body began to calm and the Prodders pleasuring him moved away from his body. Breathing heavily and with a rapid pulse (though in no danger), Alex started to relax. His breath evened out, his heart rate slowed slightly, his pricklett started to soften, his sweat began to cool, and his mind cleared enough for him to think coherently. "Holy shit," he mumbled aloud. "That was 3; That was fuckin' awesome." Chuckling to himself and embracing his somewhat mischievous side, he wiggled his hand enough so as to pat one of the larger tentacles and muttered humorously, "thanks for that buddy. But, your going to have to let me down now, ok?"

There was no response. So, as Alex lay suspended in the air, he began to think on the situation. For ten minutes, thoughts swirled around his head. These things were clearly not from earth or he felt like he would have heard about them. There was something about them that seemed so alien. He wondered if he was the only one caught up like this or if there were more of these things around. In fact, he'd love to get down and figure out what was going on! Oh shit, he realized. My fuckin' clothes! How the hell was he to get out of here if he was totally naked? Should he call for help? What if someone walked in on him like this? What if there was no one around? Aw man, he thought to himself, I think I'm really screwed here. And with that thought, Alex began to feel worried. No wait, he didn't feel worried, per se. Instead, he felt like he should be worried. Yet, he really wasn't. In fact, this whole thing had been kinda fun. With all those things rubbing up on him, cumming had felt great! In fact, he had no idea that his penis could make him feel so great.

Speaking of my little buddy, Alex thought to himself as he all of a sudden felt a wave of horniness pass through him and latch on. I think I'm starting to feel 3; Oh shit 3; What's going on! Confused, Alex knew that after two amazing orgasms, one twenty minutes earlier and one just ten minutes earlier, he should not be ready to go again. Yet his cock seemed to think otherwise. Feeling himself flush with desire and breaking out in perspiration, Alex watched as his cock went from mostly soft to totally hard. Alex couldn't believe that in the span of a half dozen heartbeats, he went from satiated and spent to sexually primed and raring to go. Without warning, all of the Prodders that had previously been manipulating him came rushing back and Alex's thoughts became hazy and indistinct thanks to the onslaught of sexual gratification. Though neither his tits, cock, nor ass were being touched, the combination of feelings from most of the rest of his body made Alex feel wonderful and horny and great. Then, the unexpected happened.

As Alex opened his mouth in a breathy moan, a small Sucker darted past his lips and, opening is flowerlike head, latched onto his tongue. Its tiny filaments, finding themselves pushed up against flesh, began to dance across his taste buds while the Sucker began to apply some small suction to his tongue. At that same moment, several tiny Prodders made their way into his open mouth and began to tickle the roof and his cheeks. Because all of the appendages in his mouth were small, Alex was in no discomfort. Instead, the added oral manipulations felt wonderful! Alex, being played like a musical instrument by the creature, responded by closing his lips around the oral invaders and frenching the tentacles for all it was worth. The creature, delighted, teased and tortured Alex's mouth skillfully while removing all blockages to his nasal air passages so the child could breath without difficulty.

As Alex moaned into this new pleasure, twenty-two more Suckers latched onto his body, ten on his fingers, ten on his toes, and two on his incredibly sensitive nipples. All these new Suckers immediately began to gently suckle, tease, and stroke, sending wonderful feelings right into Alex's brain, especially the ones playing with his nipples. Those two, well aware of their duty and the fact that the nipple is exceptionally sensitive, went to town on poor Alex, sending shockwaves of pleasure through him. His tiny taut nubs were stroked and flicked and pinched in ways that drove him wild. He writhed in place, held aloft by the ever-present tentacles. It was this new torturous joy, the first assault on one of Alex's erogenous zones, which sent him over the edge for a third time.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god 3;" Alex chanted to himself as his boycock erupted with a fountain of dick-snot. Wave after wave rocked his body, the combined feelings melding into the most amazing orgasm yet. Alex squealed. Five shots, six shots, seven shots. His torso, face, and hair were covered in cum. Eleven shots, twelve shots, thirteen shots. The wall was drenched, Alex's little prostate heroically pumping out the baby batter. Finally subsiding at twenty three shots of cum (with a great deal dribbling out and over his pelvis), Alex slumped into the loving embrace of the tentacles as the Prodders and Suckers retreated from his spent body. Just as before, Alex began to calm down while his body expunged the evidence of arousal and orgasm. His heart rate slowed somewhat, his cock went soft, and his breathing became even. His mind, breaking through the clouds of passion that had been overwhelming it moments earlier, idly wondered how it was he could have achieves three amazing orgasms in such a short period of time and, more importantly, how was it he seemed to produce more spunk with each passing peak.

Little did Alex know, but the venom the creature's Spiggot had pumped into the air and Alex had unknowingly absorbed was doing amazing and wonderful things within his body. It was keeping him healthy, safe from the trauma of repeated orgasms, and sane. Interestingly enough, one of the side effects was that his testicles were producing semen and the requisite fluids at an incredible rate. Now that the venom had had a chance to fully absorb into his system, Alex could expect (and indeed would soon realize and accept) to expel his seed between twenty-five and thirty-five times per orgasm, producing nearly a gallon [almost 4 liter] of liquid. Moreover, a Feeder, which had attached itself to the back of Alex's neck without him realizing it, was feeding him a constant stream of nutrients that his body, thanks to the creatures venom, was rapidly breaking down to replace his lost loads.

After another ten minutes of mulling over his escape and testing his restraints and with the cum that coated much of him still somewhat warm, Alex was once again seized with an intense desire for sexual release. As before, his body flushed with passion, his limp cocklett stiffened, and Alex growled out a low moan of need. A moment later, all the previous appendages, which until that moment had been standing by and waiting for him to flush with arousal, attacked the playground that was his vulnerable thirteen year old body. Arms, legs, feet, hands, back, stomach, chest, nipples, ears, face, and mouth were stroked, sucked, teased, rubbed, and generally pleasured so as to raise Alex's libido while causing his mind to fog over with lust. And of course, in keeping with its method of operation, the creature added a new element to Alex's ordeal. Ever so slowly, two small Prodders, like tongues in their soft wetness, crept around his hip bone and began ever so gently to lap at his cum-laden testicles. At the same time his balls were being fondled, a very dexterous Sucker, conveniently the same size and shape of Alex's straining penis, slipped carefully over the head of his boyhood and down his shaft. Had Alex been able to form a coherent thought at that moment, it would have gone something like "HOLY FUCKING SHIT OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD FUCK SHIT SON OF A BITCH" but, alas, Alex was so lost in his pleasure, all he could do in response to the envelopment of his cocklett was to moan unintelligibly around the Sucker currently tonguing his mouth. And when the internal ring of the sucker began to move up and down on his penis, from base to tip and back, and the small filaments began to writhe against him, Alex could do nothing but hold on for dear life.

The pleasure was otherworldly (literally) and Alex saw stars as his boygasm began to build and the Sucker on his boycock and the Prodders fondling his balls sped up their ministrations in response. It wasn't until the Suckers tongue (an ultra thin and slick Prodder built inside of the Suckers 'mouth') slipped quickly and deeply inside his urethra and began to rapidly piston in and out of him, causing immense and immediate pleasure to rise out of the core of his cock, that Alex's fourth orgasm of the day hit. Like a tsunami, the pleasure came with such a force that all Alex could do was to thrash about and to squeal and cry with abandon.

As Alex erupted a fountain of cum, the Sucker's tongue retreated backwards and the Sucker itself sped up its masturbatory motions and contracted and expanded its internal ring that was currently flying up and down Alex's overflowing boyhood. At the same time, the Sucker vacuumed Alex's cum deep into itself, releasing most of it on the ground several feet way while redirecting a little bit of it to the Sucker engaging Alex's mouth. All of a sudden, Alex found himself with a mouthful of his own hot boyspunk and instinctually began to swallow the creamy substance. Its somewhat bitter and salty flavor cut through Alex's befuddled mind and heightened his awareness of his own orgasm.

The creature did this on purpose. Understanding the sexual psychology of the human species, the creature recognized that the arousal of humans could be inflamed when they encountered, during a sexual situation, something that blatantly pointed out that they were, indeed, involved in said sexual situation. This principle was proven by Alex's response – as his mind grasped that he was participating in consuming his own jizz, something taboo and unthinkable to the teen, he felt a new sense of excitement, tinged with a bit of shame, course through his body. Though that extra jolt of pleasure was small compared to the massive amounts radiating from the boy, the creature knew that little pleasures added up to tasty snacks.

Just after the first two creature-induced orgasms, the tentacles caressing Alex receded along with his sexual desire. They did so in order to allow him the ten-minute breaks the creature's venom required before it could prepare Alex's body for an all knew sexual experience. As such, Alex had two opportunities for his mind to clear entirely and for his body to rest before the next onslaught. This time, things were different. Instead of the tentacles retreating halfway through his earth-shattering orgasm, they simply slowed considerably down for about a minute. As his body ejected his cum for the twenty-eighth and final time during his fourth orgasm of the day and before his sexual high was able to drop enough for him to think complex coherent thoughts, the tentacles began their ministrations again. This time, Alex got no breather. Ohhhh Nooooo, Alex hazily thought to himself as he realized that his desire to cum didn't dissipate like it had previously and instead, merely a minute after cumming, he found himself longing to get off again. The desire was there. The need was there. He felt stretched and ready to pop. He knew, he just knew, that he'd be cumming again very soon.

The creature, realizing that the current form of its venom didn't work perfectly and thus needed time between the peaks of pleasure to prepare the children for another round, began early in its assault on the earthlings to alter its chemical composition so as to achieve its desired ends. It was impatient, and the ten earth minutes between the ending of one sexual peak and the start of the journey towards the next one was simply to long for the hungry creature. Therefore, it sought to reduce that waiting period from around ten minutes to just about one. That way, it could force more peaks more rapidly and reap the bountiful harvest of pleasure. Just before Alex's fourth orgasm, the creature perfected the venom and began delivering it to all of its captured prey. As such, with only a minute of rest for Alex, his body began to respond sexually to the greatly slowed Prodders and Suckers. Pleased with its prey's quick response, the creature sped up its loving torture.

Alex floated on clouds of pleasure. For an eternity (fifteen minutes), he experienced countless (five) more orgasms. The creature would suck and stroke him for a short time. He'd cum bucket loads. The creature would slow down and his orgasm would start to subside. Then the creature would start the process over again. His appendages were rubbed. His face and ears and nose were tickled. His nipples were tweaked and his balls were fondled. His cock was sucked continuously and every time he came, some of his jizz would be deposited in his mouth by the Sucker making love to his tongue. Just before orgasm, right as he was on the brink, he'd feel something slip into his pee hole and furiously piston in and out. Instead of being painful, as he would have thought, this quick and intense pleasure pushed him over the edge each time.

The creature was pleased as well. Not only had its venom reduced the time between the peaks of its prey, but it was doing an exceptional job of keeping the prey in top condition and healthy for this vigorous activity. Nerves were re-enforced. Blood composition and oxygen were made optimal. The physical limitations of the prey would normally never have allowed for an assault of this fashion, yet the venom was conditioning their bodies to accept it without any damage being done. After finding the results of the last few minutes pleasing and content in its own ability, the creature decided to move forward by adding new elements to the dance.

As his ninth orgasm of the day started to subside and Alex already found himself hard and horny for the next one to begin, a curious thing began to occur. His legs, held straight out from his body by the tentacles, began to be pulled apart. Slowly, almost as if the things didn't want to hurt him, his legs were then bent at the knees and his knees were cautiously drawn up towards his chest. Within moments, Alex found himself in a position that naturally parted his pert round bottom so as to expose his hidden flower to the world. It was lovely, hairless, and pink as a newborn. Despite having not wiped himself earlier, some of the spooge that had coat his thighs and back, deposited there by the spooge covered Prodders, had dripped down his hidden valley and the spooges' unique characteristics (antibacterial and the like) had cleaned his backside more thoroughly than had he done it himself. Clean and virginal, his tiny boypussy opened and closed slightly as the Suckers on his boycock and nipples sped up. Unable to see himself from this new position and with his head thrown back in a moan due to the pleasure racking his body, Alex didn't see the Prodders approaching his vulnerable hole.

"Yeep!" Alex squeaked unintelligibly, as he felt one of the tentacles touch his tiny quivering asshole ever so lightly. "Oh no! 3; Oh shit! 3; I don't want! 3; Ah! 3; Ah! 3;" Alex though disjointedly as the unwelcome invade began to rub his little hole more and more vigorously, causing spikes of pleasure to surge up his spine and assault his brain. The prodder, sensing that it had left more than enough of the slippery spooge around the end of the child's digestive tract, slowly began to worm its way past the tight ring of muscle desperately trying to bar its passage. Due in part to its slippery nature and in part to its relatively thin shape, there was nothing poor Alex could do to keep out the Prodder as its mushroom-like head finally forced its way past his sphincter and into his rectum. Unable to help himself, Alex emitted a low moan of pleasure. When the thing started to enter him, he was sure it would hurt terribly. Instead, because the creature was so careful and the offending appendage was perfectly sized so as not to tear up his backdoor, the only thing Alex's nerve endings registered was the joy of well-executed sodomy.

And sodomized he was! After the initial penetration, the Prodder began to go to town. It pumped in and out of him, never allowing its flared head to leave his hole and continuing to plunge a little further ahead with each thrust. Faster and faster the Prodder slammed into the thirteen year olds boypussy, exploring more and more of this forbidden wonderland. Alex, his whole body inflamed with lust and the joy of having his cocklett sucked merging with the new pleasure from his first assfuck, squealed and screeched and moaned. His mind seemed to escape his body and his world seemed to exist only of pleasure and need and the continued relentless sucking sucking sucking of his hard straining boycock and the pounding pounding pounding of his tight wonderful boypussy. And then it happened. The thing inside him hit something special – a magical spot that launched Alex into space. He silently screamed in pleasure, unable to make a sound due to the intensity of the feelings inside him. He came, harder than the previous nine times, his cock erupting his massive load and his body quivering in ecstasy. The creature, knowing that the too sensitive prostates would be a good way to force its prey to hit their peaks, began to ruthlessly pound Alex's magic button over and over and over again, forcing the child to cum over and over and over. His tenth, eleventh, and twelfth kiddie-cums ran together as one long unbroken chain while his cocklett spilled gallons of his seed. His little testes, valiantly producing spunk at incredible rates (with the aid of the venom), could not cope with the demand for semen now that there was no rest between orgasms. Towards the end of his twelfth, he stopped firing off any loads and, seeming to revert back to his prepubescent days, his wet orgasm became dry.

The creature, realizing it had become a little too enthusiastic (despite the wonderful pleasure it got from its prey during that specific sequence of peaks) and that a continued assault would result in damage to its young victim (in fact, a few moments more and the child's body would begin a shutdown sequence), slowed down and stopped the sexual assault in time with the subsiding of the child's twelfth peak. For several minutes, the Suckers and Prodders backed off of Alex and allowed the totally spent teen to recover while the venom inside began to repair and revitalize his body. It brought oxygen to limbs, repaired blood vessels, adjusted the chemicals in him so as to keep him healthy, and assisted in the production of new sperm. Unknown to Alex, the venom even repaired the micro-tears in his anus and rectum, soothing and making more elastic the muscles so that he would be able to take, without pain, larger and larger Prodders as the day went on (within reason, of course) while, at the same time, tightening his anal passage so as to make his little pucker seem as if it had never been violated in the first place.

The first coherent thought that glided through Alex's thoroughly exhausted mind. That was amazing. Despite everything that had happened, Alex found himself calm and unconcerned. As the minutes ticked by and he began to feel his strength return, thoughts of escape and the future were cast aside. All that seemed to matter now was that he was not in control and that there was nothing he could do about it. Perhaps it was an epiphany sometime during that last great onslaught of orgasm, but Alex decided that he might as well enjoy what was happening while it lasted. With that final thought and as his body was suddenly overcome with sexual need and desire, Alex's mind began to drift towards bliss as many Suckers and Prodders began to pleasure his body, two Suckers latched onto his puffy sensitive little nipples, a Sucker fastened itself back on to his aching boycock, and a Prodder, slightly thicker than the one before, entered his boypussy and began to fuck him silly 3;

The image of himself being fucked by those tentacles had aroused Alex so much, he had slipped a spit covered finger down his backside and right up his tight boyhole. Lost in his memory and with one hand flying up and down his achingly hard cock while the other fingering his asshole, Alex came. It felt great, and the few ounces of spunk that landed on his belly made Alex proud. Quickly cleaning himself up and snuggling back into his bed, Alex fell asleep contented.

Alex had had quite an ordeal that day. For a long time, his parents would look back on the events that had occurred with anger and shame. However, had they known that the visit by the creature had saved their son's life, they would offer up thanks to the creature that it had chosen Alex's school to dine at. You see, Alex had a rare heart condition that, in the middle of football practice while a senior in high school, would have caused him to suffer a massive heart attack and would end his life. Thanks to the venom and its healing properties, Alex would instead die at a ripe old age of 134, having never suffered from anything so much as a pimple in his long and well-lived life.

For the past minute or so, the fifteen and sixteen-year-old sophomore boys of Ms. Rios's second period Spanish class had been waging an internal war against their libido that, up until only a short time ago, had been lying dormant as they practiced their verb pronunciations. It had all started when Ms. Rios and the girls had left and, as any group of teenager boys would do, the boys began to gossip and chat among themselves until the women returned. Though the boys had no idea where all the women had gone, they were unconcerned and relished these few moments of freedom. All of a sudden, without warning, a massive wave of sexual arousal hit the teen boys en mass and every one of them was overcome with the desire to get himself off as fast as possible. Though a few boys slipped hands down into their pants, most grabbed their desks and tried to white-knuckle will their throbbing desire away. Then, just as each boy began to notice that he was not the only one being drowned in arousal, the door exploded backwards and the windows all slammed open. As the boy's attention briefly redirected itself from their own personal circumstances to the loud noises, they froze in shock at otherworldly apparitions before them.

Hundreds of floating tentacles crowded the door and windows, themselves still but for slight swaying motions as they seemed to survey the room. "What the fuck?" asked Jason Kelly loudly, the tall sixteen-year-old basketball player voicing the question on everyone's mind. For the barest of moments, the teens stared stupidly at the Prodders and Suckers while the creature's appendages seemed to be trying to determine what it was they, too, were looking at. Then Riley Giddyman, whose left hand was slowly rubbing the large tent in his jeans, moaned loudly and the spell was broken.

With incredible speed, the tentacles raced into the room and attempted to seize the sophomores. Desks were overturned. Books flew everywhere. Several of the students yelled, most in surprise and a couple still lost in their own pleasurable feelings. Students leapt from their chairs seeking escape, their instincts of flight overriding their decision making process. None escaped. John Tannerman, the small quiet fifteen year old in the corner, had a surge of courage as he grabbed his Spanish book and tried to defend himself, the only student whose instincts told him to fight off the intruders. With his achingly hard erection tenting out his cargo shorts, John backed himself into the corner and swung his weapon at the Prodders that were lunging at him. For a moment, he kept them at bay. Then, he over-swung the book and, sensing an opening, the tentacles darted under his defenses and seized him tightly.

The chaos only lasted a short time and, within the span of a minute, all seventeen teenagers were bound. Ignoring the cries of "Help!" and "Oh my god!", the tentacles dexterously maneuvered its prey throughout the room so as to maximize its own ability to get at their desirable bodies. Some were held aloft near the ceiling. Some were kept low to the floor. All were positioned in such a way so as to maximize their comfort. After all, they would be staying in the same place for some time! "What the hell is going on!" Robert Kinly yelled to his classmates. The chubby sixteen-year olds' normally jovial personality was gone and, instead, the angry horny boy was desperately struggling against his bonds, though even he wasn't sure whether he was trying to escape or trying to reach his ridged teencock.

Slowly and with great precision, the Prodders began to make their way under their victims clothing, causing the already loud classroom to fill with even more cries of fear and arousal. Then, as they reached their desired destinations, shirts and pants, boxers, socks, shoes, and all other forms of clothing began to be torn away from the flushed and excited teenage boys. Mikey Banks, the nerdy sixteen year old whose acne scared face contributed a great deal to his perpetual virginhood, found himself in a unique position. Lying face up and parallel to the ground by about a foot [30 cm], bound tightly by the tentacles, his head was staring straight up at the pelvic region of Gregory Rex, the tall blond baseball player who sat next to him and whose popularity put him considerably higher than Mikey on the high school social ladder. As both of their clothes were ripped away, Mikey found himself staring at the other boy's hard and dripping cock, only about a foot [30 cm] away from his head. It was at that moment that Gregory, upside down and with his face only a foot [30 cm] from Mikey's now free and erect cock, began to moan as his lust caused him to gush pre-cum rapidly which, thanks to gravity, dribbled right onto Mikey's face and into his open mouth. Startled by the sudden wetness, it took Mikey a milli-second to realize his face was now covered in Gregory's pre-fuck. When he did, Mikey moaned loudly and, though he wasn't gay, came hard. His six-inch [15 cm] cock, hard as a rock, began to shoot load after load of teenage spunk directly upward, hitting Gregory in the face and neck and chest. That shock sent the heterosexual baseball player into his own climax, causing his body to shake uncontrollably and his cock to drench Mikey's flushed face and chest.

With the clothing gone, the prodders began to explore their teenage captives, ignoring for the moment nipples, genitals, and assholes. Legs were stroked. Armpits were played with. Ears were invaded and faces were teased. Stomachs and backs and feet and arms were fondled and rubbed and molested until the demands for help and the cries of surprise were replaced by moans of pleasure and cries of release, the stimulation being to much for the teens to handle. The boys, their freestanding pricks waving in the air as they came, sent teen spunk throughout the room, covering themselves and their neighbors indiscriminately.

As Ms. Rios's class came down from their sexual peaks, embarrassment set in. The boys, despite some attempting to act confidently in front of each other as teen boys do, felt incredibly embarrassed at having been brought to orgasm in front of their peers. It was with this universal embarrassment that none said anything and most tried to avoid eye contact with their neighbors. Finally, after a few minutes had passed, Jacob Zeer, well liked and often looked to as a leader for the sophomore class, cleared his throat. "Ahem 3; Um 3; Is everyone ok?" he asked with a bit of trepidation at breaking the silence. Mumbles of affirmations floated in and everyone, realizing they were in the same predicament as everyone else, relaxed slightly.

"Any idea how to get free?" ventured Martin McNally, after a couple of heartbeats of silence. It seemed, to him, that silence would be terrifying at the moment and he desperately needed to reaffirm that he was not alone.

"I can't" replied John Tannerman from across the room, himself trussed up slightly more tightly than the rest thanks to his efforts to defend himself. Immediately, conversation started up and the class began to communicate, trying to understand what was going on and how they could escape. Ms. Rios would have been proud of them – despite being covered in sex fluids and on complete display to each other, the fifteen and sixteen-year-olds held it together with maturity and poise. Of course, had the venom not been repressing much of their fear, many of them would have been reduced to blubbering masses.

Just as Jim Debois was confident he could reach the pocketknife in his backpack with the help of Max Orello, both boys were overcome with the sudden realization that they were horny again. Soft cocks around the room sprang to attention.

"Oh god" Jacob Zeer exclaimed, realizing that their ordeal was not over. Within a moment, conversations had died and were replaced with moans of lust as the Prodders, which had been dormant for the last few minutes, began their assault again.

"Help! Oh shit, help!" cried Fox Adrossy, as two suckers attached themselves to his slim chest and began to ravage his hard nipples. Little did Fox know, but his classmates were echoing his sentiments in their heads as Suckers began to latched onto nipples throughout the room and the boys began to writhe because of their ministrations. To make matters worse (or, depending on the point of view, better), as mouths were widened to expel curses and cries of joy, Suckers latched onto tongues and Prodders began to tease gums and cheeks. In only a short time, all the teens began to climax, shuddering in their new passions. For Ryan Castenun, only a few feet from John Tannerman, his longtime secret crush, his attention was focused solely on the other boy's throbbing, but as yet untouched, boyhood. And when John began to climax and his tool began to gush blast after blast of cum right onto Ryan's face and chest, Ryan was tipped over the edge and joined him in the magical realm of orgasm, sending his own blasts of cum right back at John.

However, the creatures venom had been able to have its way with the teens by this point and the boys found that, despite having just cum and usually only managing a couple of shots of boyjuice when they normally climaxed, this climax lasted longer and each one of them shot between twenty and twenty five times. Moans seemed to last an eternity and orgasms even longer for the boys. When Ryan and John had finally finished cumming, each had completely drenched the other; Ryan enjoying John's spunk as some of it landed in his mouth and John, despite being totally straight, finding pleasure in the eroticism and bondage that had forced him to accept the other boy's load.

Again, the Prodders and Suckers ceased their stimulations, though each teenager was unknowingly hooked by a Feeder. Again, quiet descended on the classroom. Again, Jacob Zeer, trying his best to keep moral up and act as he thought a leader should, asked if everyone was alright.

"I've never shot a load as big as that before," Robert Kinly responded, turning red as he realized what he had just admitted to and embarrassed beyond belief.

"Me neither," Timothy Sacher echoed, not the least bit embarrassed. Having reasoned that this was a unique situation, he felt that all information was good information. Besides, it was a huge load that he had just shot off all over himself and Anthony Ramerez!

Again, the class erupted in discussion. It wasn't long before they were again talking escape. When the arousal hit en mass again, most were taken off guard, having not suspected that they could be horny yet again, and they desperately increased their struggle for freedom. It was only Connor Yarnello, the geeky boy who spent much of his time reading Japanese manga (and sometimes looking at the 'adult' forms of that genre), who had any inclination of what was going on. To him, these tentacle things looked a great deal like a certain subgenre that involved bound captives raped over and over by suspiciously proportioned wildlife (or aliens, or trees, or monsters, or whatever).

As the Suckers again attached to nipples and tongues and the Prodders began to meticulously rub assorted body parts, the boys were approached by Suckers whose dimensions matched their own equipment. Without warning, Suckers latched onto every staining cock in the room, from fifteen year old Aung Soong's modest four and a half inch [11½ cm] peter to Jason Kelly' massive seven and a quarter inch [18½ cm] prick. Once latched, the internal sleeve of the Sucker began to travel up and down its captive cock, rapidly flying from base to tip. Two more Prodders per boyhood, sensing opportunities, began to casually fondle and play with each boys full testicles. This new stimulation, the first time each boy's cock had been directly touched in quite a while, sent all the boys to the moon. For the next few moments, the room resonated with the howls of pleasure from the boys as they were furiously beat off by the Suckers.

Max Orello, his eyes fogged over in lust as his tongue dueled the invading Sucker in his mouth, threw his head back and groaned as his climax hit like a waterfall, pleasure cascading through his spine and the Sucker that was flying up and down his rigid pole slipping its own tiny tongue-like Prodder right down his urethra, causing him to close his eyes in ecstasy. He was not alone. At that moment, every boy in the room was squirming in pleasure as they felt the Prodders that had slipped deep into their pee-holes retreat and their dicks launch volley after volley of their cum into the Suckers waiting mouth. Shock, of course, registered in all of their minds as the Suckers in their mouths deposited a bit of their seed across their tongues and they were forced to swallow their own sperm; the bitter and tangy and salty substance coating their tonsils on the way down. All the room quivered in shared joy and their moans and howls of pleasure created a cacophony of sound that echoed down the hall, blending with the sounds racing out from all the nearby classrooms.

As their shared climaxes began to die down, Jacob Zeer, one of the first to gain back most of his cognitive ability, began to try to ask if everyone was ok. Concerned for his classmates at the power of this most recent assault, he was prepared to make the inquiry and to lend his support to those overwhelmed. Unfortunately, the Prodders and Suckers continued, albeit at a slower pace, to stimulate his body and he was finding it difficult to vocalize his thoughts with those distractions. Instead of the conversation that had broken out between each round of orgasms, this time the room was filled with low moans and yelps.

Timothy Sacher, one of the brighter sophomores, had had the presence of mind to watch the clock whenever his mind was his own. He expected, therefor, about a ten-minute reprieve between this orgasm and the tentacles starting on his body again. He was shocked, therefor, when after a minute, he was hit with another wave of arousal and the tentacles sped up their work. And work they did! Five times over the next fifteen minutes (though poor Timothy was much too busy and out of his mind to pay attention to the clock), Timothy and all his classmates were brought to amazing climaxes. Nipples were sucked. Cocks were tortured. Balls were rubbed. Mouths were flooded with spunk and juices flowed freely. The moaning was constant. The boys' cum was everywhere. The spooge from the tentacles coated bodies and every surface.

As their climaxes died down again and the teens prepared themselves for the next round, having at this point given up any hope of escape and resigned themselves to their fates, the boys discovered a nasty surprise. Slowly and methodically, the tentacles began to bend their legs and maneuver their now bent knees up towards their chest while at the same time spreading their legs so as to expose their tiny virgin puckers.

Almost as one, the boys realized what was coming and panicked. Boys in general have an incredible aversion, born out of a desire not to appear gay, to having anything near their assholes. That said, as the Prodders began to creep toward their shitters, they went ballistic. All throughout the room, boys thrashed and writhed and fought against their captors in the hopes of preserving their sacred virginity. They cried and yelled and pleaded, but in the end, as the Suckers began to caress their achingly hard cocks and nipples and the Prodders began to, almost sympathetically, rub their full ballsacks, each boy felt the unique pleasure of having a slick perfectly sized Prodder poke, rub, and then force its way up his ass. As the heads of the Prodders at last slipped past their clenched anal rings and began to gently, and then vigorously, fuck them, each boy felt overcome with two feelings. The first was the shame of being defiled in such a nasty homo fashion. The second, and more powerful feeling, was the absolutely amazing bliss that the Prodders were generating at their back door. Several of the boys, lost in the haze of pleasure, began to moan in time with the fucking. Some even began to beg for it.

As the Prodders and Suckers across the room sped up and the moaning increased, all of the students felt the onslaught of pleasure and their own approaching climax. The Prodders fucking assholes sped up considerably, pounding their chosen victim ruthlessly and forcing the boys to writhe and moan and thrash relentlessly. Suddenly, the Prodders vigorously fucking the boys changed angles slightly and began relentlessly hammering each and every boy's prostate. The boys saw God. Within five hard strokes, every one of them exploded in orgasm, harder than any time before, as their prostates were mercilessly ravaged over and over. They came again and again and again – with one orgasm leading to another leading to another. The boys were furiously driven to multiple climaxes with no time in between, their balls expelling so much cum that eventually, all of their wet climaxes became dry and their bodies made preparations to shutdown, being unable to cope despite the creature's best efforts.

Realizing its mistake, the creature slowed down and eventually stopped its assault on the boys. As their bodies began to recover, the class began to settle down. In fact, as the minutes slipped by, many of the boys discovered that their classmates looked healthier than they had that morning. The heavier ones seemed to have lost some weight. The too skinny ones seemed to have filled out. And acne, the bane of every high school student, was gone. Even poor Mickey Bank's skin was smooth and unblemished, making Gregory Rex notice for the first time that his classmate was a good-looking guy. What the students didn't know was that those superficial changes were the tip of the iceberg. Eyes were corrected so as to negate the need for glasses. Hearts were cleaned and tuned up. And the chronic pain in Steven Biggs knee, the result of a hiking accident three years ago, as well as the developing cancer in Austin Woodly's colon, were gone.

Eventually, with no more assault seemingly underway, they again began to discuss escape. Jacob Zeer, honestly believing the ordeal was over thanks to the intensity of that last round and the wait being longer than normal, began to persuade his classmates that all would be well and that, soon, they would figure a way out of there messy situation. He had just about convinced everyone that this otherworldly experience was over when, without warning, each and every student in Ms. Rios's class became instantly and painfully aroused. As Suckers latched on to cocks and nipples and as Prodders slipped up asses, the last thought Jacob had before his mind fogged over with lust was This is going to be a long day 3; Indeed it will be Jacob. Indeed it will be.

Chapter Three
Grade School discovery

Art time is great, thought Matt Arroba. He loved the colors and the paper and the way he had to concentrate really hard to make sure the project he was working on was perfect. Sometimes, when it was really good, Ms. Arnett would give him a gold star and his mom would even put it on the windowsill for the neighbors to see! At first, he didn't think he'd like second-grade because he wouldn't get to do as much art and would have to have more difficult classes. But now that he was an 'old pro' as his dad would say, he found that he enjoyed the reading classes and the mathematics; though he was grateful that Ms. Arnett still let her second graders do lots of fun art projects too.

Speaking of the Ms. Arnett 3; Matt thought to himself. Where is she? Looking around for the first time in quite a while, Matt realized that Ms. Arnett and all the girls were gone. It was weird because he could have sworn they were here a minute ago. Before he could ask the question though, Daniel Parsons stood up and asked loudly "Hey! Where is everybody?"

"I don't know" responded David Burelle, "I think they left."

With that, the class broke into fragmented conversations which all revolved around asking each other where their teacher and female classmates had gone. As everyone had been deeply involved in the art project, none had really paid attention to what was going on in the room. For the seven and eight-year-olds, this was a unique occurrence. Sometimes, they knew, Ms. Arnett would leave the room but she always had one of the nice ladies from the front office come in and watch them when she did. And she never left with all the girls. Now, the boys glanced around nervously, unsure of what was going on.

"Um 3; Should we go look for them?" asked Jonathon Carrol aloud for the third time, hoping that someone would volunteer. He'd go himself, but really didn't want to.

"Geez Johnny, shut up!" hissed Jamie Washington, the boy aggravated that Johnny was so annoying and his own nerves getting the better of him.

"You shut up!" responded Jonathon, now pissed at the other boy.

"No, stop being a whiny baby!" resorted Jamie.

"Only if you quit being a jerk!" responded Jonathon, not one to back down when challenged.

With no teacher to stop the budding argument, the two eight-year-olds prepared themselves for a long match of insults. Before it could get out of hand, however, each boy in the second grade class froze as they were suddenly overcome with strange and powerful feelings. Light headed, the boys spaced out for a moment, completely forgetting their concerns and their arguments. When their minds finally became their own, none felt as nervous about the absences of Ms. Arnett or the girls as they had only a moment before. In fact, they felt excited and twitchy and full of energy. Their skin tingled. They got goosebumps. They started to perspire a little bit.

Suddenly unable to sit still, all the kids hopped up out of their group tables and began to dance in place, hoping that doing so would bring some relief to the new feelings coursing through their bodies. "I don't feel good" Jaylen Smith said as Ryan Malone announced, "I feel funny". Cries of "me neither" and "me too" and "I feel weird" echoed throughout the classroom as the eighteen second-graders looked hopefully at each other for some answer to their current predicament. Then, almost as one, each boy froze as all his attention left his classmates and focused entirely on his genitals. Every single one of the boys found themselves with little woodies as their blood rushed into their immature members. Not an entirely new experience, as many of the boys had experienced erections before, this time felt different. There was some sort of strange heat coming from their tented pants and, as that heat turned into an itch, each boy felt like a spring was coiling tighter and tighter inside himself. For several minutes, the children stayed quietly absorbed in their own bodily functions, bouncing from foot to foot and looking at their pelvic regions like they might understand what was going on if they stared long enough. A lusty haze overcame them, making it harder to think abouot anything but their itchy demanding little cocks. Quite suddenly, the door swung open and the windows all rose – filling the quiet room with a loud and obvious "bang." The seven and eight-year-olds all jumped and immediately turned to the front of the classroom, expecting to see Ms. Arnett standing there like a beacon of hope. For of course, Ms. Arnett could explain what was going on!

Instead, there were these things there. They looked like snakes or, as Grant Freedman thought to himself, the kind of tentacles he'd seen on the jellyfish pictures his dad had shown him last night. For a long moment, the second-graders stood stock-still and starred at the motionless apparitions. Then, without a thought, Matt Arroba, always one to be outgoing, walked slowly and cautiously to the door with his tiny erection throbbing the entire way. As he approached, the tentacles there seemed to focus on him and regard him with curiosity. Reaching his destination, Matt stood up as straight as he could (all of 3'10" [1.17 m]), shifted his shoulders and weight (an imposing fifty-two pounds [23½ kg]), and confidently asked, "What are you?"

Unfortunately for Matt, those words broke the silence and the tentacles entered the room with purpose. Unlike what was going on in most of the rest of the area, the tentacles proceeded slowly and soon had surrounded the boys; unhurriedly wrapping them up and lifting them throughout the room. The creature, aware that these were some of the youngest prey it was going to feast on and that they were years away from their sexual maturation, wanted to be extra careful and extra sensitive with their delicate bodies and undeveloped minds. It didn't want to hurt them and it knew that the feelings they would be experiencing soon, indeed that they were already experiencing but were too young to understand, were going to confuse and frighten them. Therefore, it would be extra cautious with them so as not to do any harm. Oh, it was still going to rape them to peak after peak after peak, fucking their tiny bodies with abandon and relishing in their pleasure, but it would do so sensibly and, the creature affirmed to itself, lovingly.

The children were stupefied. Though used to utilizing their imaginations constantly, what was happening now was well outside their experiences, both real and imaginary. Met with such strange and unique circumstances and with their bodies still emitting strange and wonderful feelings, none of the children had the presence of mind to so much as struggle as the tentacles casually bound them and moved them like marionettes. Then the tentacles began their fun.

Sliding Prodders down pants and up shirts, into socks, shoes, and underwear, the tentacles carefully began to shred the clothing and reveal to the world eighteen naked, horny, cherubic boys. "Hey," whispered Liam Tressalm, hazily aware that his favorite pair of pants had just been torn in half despite the intense feelings between his legs, "that's my favorite. Stop it." Heedless of Liam's half mumbled order, the creature soon completed his task and the seven and eight-year-olds of Ms. Arnett's class found themselves naked as babes, floating in a sea of tentacles and strange funny feelings.

"Sammy," little Marcus Casey announced, shock making him lucid for a moment as he found himself turned face to face with his best friend Sam Johnson. With only two feet [half a meter] between the boys, Marcus's attention was immediately on the fact that his best pal was naked – an occurrence Marcus had never seen before despite knowing the other boy forever. "You're naked!" he stated, a bit of a question in his voice. Sammy flushed red with embarrassment (or somewhat more red as all the children were slightly flushed with their arousal), acutely aware of his nudity and mortified beyond belief. An obsessively modest boy, he despised being seen naked by anyone, his own mom and dad included.

Before poor Sammy could respond, however, the tentacles darted forward and began their pleasurable assault on the boys. Arms, legs, feet, hands, tummies, backs, shoulders, necks, ears, cheeks, chins, and noses were massaged, stroked, fondled, and teased. Moans sprang up around the classroom as the floodgates were opened and the children were subjected to new intense and unexpected pleasure. Though all erogenous zones (genitals, anuses, nipples, and mouths) were avoided, the children felt their need increase tenfold. The little boy-boners that had been hard became achingly ridged. Lost in this new sensation and with no way to comprehend what they were feeling, the boys threw their heads back and began to howl in frustrated bliss.

Carlos Esparanza, his body betraying him, began to feel something, some power, coalescing in his guts. The things rubbing his armpits and legs felt unnaturally wonderful and seemed to be sending some sort of magic through his limbs, feeding the growing ball of power in his lower tummy. Instantly, that ball of power dropped lower, into his private parts, and he felt that all the energy in the universe was traveling through him to destinations unknown. Carlos climaxed. "Ah!" he screamed loudly as his body thrashed and jerked, his little boycock twitching rapidly and his immature prostate screaming in confusion. "Help! Help! Ahhhhh!" he shrieked, the pleasure of orgasm being met for the first time and his seven-year-old mind unable to understand.

Across the room, eight-year-old Grayson Hall was hitting his own climax at the same time. his body lurched and twisted, his face frozen in a silent scream as the pleasure overwhelmed his little pricklett and mind. Several feet from him, Nathan Yorkstern began to cry, not from pain or sadness but because his little woody was sending such powerful feelings through him and crying seemed the only way to express his sheer and unbridled joy.

For what seemed like an eternity, the boys climaxed, their moans and screams and pleadings for help falling on deaf ears. Collectively, it was their first orgasm. As the seconds ticked by, though, and the feelings began to fade, the children, some of whom followed Nathan into tears and some of whom followed Grayson into stunned silence, began to collect themselves. Infants only a few short years earlier, their instincts from that age kicked in and they slowly began to self-sooth. It helped, of course, that the tentacles had retreated for a time.

As the minutes past, the children began to calm down and evaluate their situation.

"What was that?" asked Freddy Corvalas, unable, because of the way the tentacles held him, to look at his tiny woody that had seemed to be the epicenter of the strange feelings moments earlier. Instead and as a substitute, he began to closely scrutinize the cock of the boy next to him, Julian Texmara.

"I don't know," replied Dennis Hopper close by, his little member finally soft. "Something bad?" he questioned, hoping someone in his class could explain what he felt.

"No," replied Jeremiah Lux from across the room, "Something good. It felt funny, but felt good."

That assertion seemed to relax the class further, all worrying to some extent that what they had felt had been something bad.

Soon, the seven and eight-year-olds were talking in groups. Some continued to speculate as to their orgasms, their analysis rudimentary due to their age and inexperience. Yet despite this, several mothers and fathers would have been proud because their second-graders were doing an admirable job of theorizing, reasoning, and articulating their theories. A couple of the boys were giggling at their nude classmates or trying, without success, to cover up their own nakedness. A few more spent the down time trying to untangle themselves from the embrace of the tentacles. None were prepared for the second wave of arousal when it hit.

"Oh no! Oh no!" squealed Tyler Jamison, the little seven-year-old's cocklett becoming ridged again as the familiar but unnamed emotion, years later understood to be lust, swept through his immature body.

"It's happening again!" pleaded Jesse Marano to the crowd, desperate at first for someone to do something and desperate moments later to get off again.

Quickly, the room was filled with cries of confusion and moans of excitement. Without warning, the Prodders attacked again, resuming their previous positions across each body with the addition of three new and strategically placed Suckers; one sliding into the mouth of each child and latching onto their tongue in a perverse imitation of a French kiss while the other two sought out, fastened onto, and began to tease and torture each child's vulnerable nipples. With this new and very sexual pleasure, each child's libido was kicked into overdrive and they immediately found themselves writhing and seizing in the tentacles grasp. Moans became yells. Yells became shrieks. Shrieks became screams as child after child soon climaxed brutally, pushed over the edge by the relentless assault on their bodies and, most especially, on their taunt little titties.

By this point, the creature's venom had done wonders to the little boys' testicles and, as each boy came for the second time in his life, his little prostate contracted and a few small jets of clear semen erupted from his otherwise totally immature genitalia. These weren't the geysers seen across the yard in the high school, but each boy did contain and fire off enough spunk to get some on himself and his neighbors.

Eventually, after the tentacles had retreated and the boys' collective orgasms had subsided, they began to focus on what they perceived to be the two most glaring points of contention that needed to be discussed. First, did thy all just pee on one another? (A debate that lasted several minutes and contained a lot of "Did not" and "did too" type arguments). Second, and surprisingly intuitive, was whether this thing was going to happen again. Indeed, when Matt Arroba first broke through the 'pee' argument and asked "Are we finished, or are we going to go again?", each child paused to let the possibilities sink in. Not having any pre-conceived notions about sex and thus no frame of reference to tell them otherwise, it was soon decided after brief debate that yes, this thing was going to happen again. For several kids, the conclusion was based on the fear that they were trapped. For others, their support came because they kind of enjoyed the strange and overwhelming feelings. For the rest, herd mentality felt comfortable and once some of their classmates began to concede that this business was not finished, they quickly voiced their support for that train of thought.

Just as the class seemed satisfied with their logical assumptions and began to steer the conversation towards the "so what do we do then?" step, their reprieve was over. Arousal and tentacles hit en mass and William Jespin, who was in the middle of a sentence, found himself unable to continue as a rather rude Sucker shoved its way into his mouth and began to suck persistently on his tongue. Not that William was complaining, mind you, because at that moment, his little cocklett had sprung to attention and was alight with passion, causing him to moan loudly. Very soon, puffy nipples were being teased, mouths were being violated, and arms, legs, backs, shoulders, toes, fingers, and tummies were being rubbed and petted. Additionally, the tentacles began to slowly and carefully pry each boy's legs apart so that their sex was obscenely on display.

Tiny Prodders and Suckers coiled around hips of each boy and momentarily appraised virgin cockletts. Then, as one, they began to descend. Boys throughout the room were immediately jerked out of their pleasurable haze by the most intense feelings of their lives. Suckers slipped tightly over the hoods of boycocks and slithered down to the base while Prodders began to fondle each pair of boyballs. Then, without warning, the inside of each Sucker began to slide up and down their tiny poles, stroking them smoothly and quickly.

For eight-year-old Derrick Smith, it was an absolute shock. Sure, he'd felt his legs open slightly while his tongue was wrestling with the thing in his mouth and those delicious things on this chest were torturously teasing his nipples. But at the moment, he'd thought nothing of it. Then, all of a sudden, warmth and tightness and slipperiness enveloped his hard boyhood and began to descend on it. At the same time, warm wet things began to rub vigorously his little scrotum and its precious cargo. When the thing finally seemed to be on his penis entirely, Derrick was jolted by a second shock as something inside it began to move up and down his ridged pole incredibly fast, sending bursts of lighting to his brain and leaving him utterly and totally dumb while living in a world made up completely of pleasure.

Seven-year-old Rory McNamara, his legs stretched apart and his hard boyhood available for the entire world to see, had no idea what was coming. Like Derrick and the rest of his class, he was floating in the pleasure being generated by his sensitive titties. Without warning, one of the things began to touch him down there and, as the pleasure of the Sucker engulfing his rigid sex, the first thought that passed through his head was a memory of his mommy talking about good touches and bad touches. When the sucker finally latched on, Rory's mind screamed Bad Touch! However, a heartbeat later, as the Sucker began to masturbate him furiously, his internal commentary changed to Good Touch! Good Touch! Good Touch! before his mind shut off completely and he swam in a sea of bliss.

Sensing climax approaching in its prey, the creature redoubled the efforts of its Prodders and Suckers. Within seconds, the Prodders gently stroking boyballs began to rub furiously while the Suckers on the tiny boycocks began flying from base to tip and back at near imperceptible speed. Then, just as each child as about to cum for the third time in their lives, the Suckers molesting each boy sent a tiny Prodder deep down into his urethra. This intense shock, combined with the pleasure from emanating in genitals and nipples, sent each boy past the point of no return. Screams were torn from throats as climaxes hit. With the assistance of the Suckers, the boys spunk, now thick and creamy and plentiful thanks to the creature's venom, flooded into all the glassy-eyed children's mouths and they swallowed it as greedily as they had swallowed their mothers milk only a few years earlier. Boys thrashed about in ecstasy, trying desperately to dislodge the offending tentacles but unable to escape the powerful crushing pleasure.

Unfortunately for the worn and weary children, their post-orgasm reprieve was outrageously short. Only a minute after their latest climax seemed to subside and just as some of them began to think coherently, the mass arousal hit again like a tidal wave. For each and every one of them, it had seemed that they had just finished cumming when the tentacles, which had not left their body this time, began to speed up. Cries of anguish quickly became cries of lust as the boys, able, as children are, to adjust to situations better than adults, quickly capitulated to the onslaught of sexual assault and accepted that their tiny bodies desperately needed to be pleasured so as to calm the raging inferno of arousal that seemed their now constant companion.

Shortly after their seventh climax of the day, the boys got the surprise of a lifetime as their legs were spread even further and their tiny boyholes were put on display. Marty Halsom, the eight-year-old's eyes locked on Derrick Smith's backside only a few short feet from him, watched in horror as another one of the things began to creep across his buddy's butt. Though they appeared huge, the Prodders now seeking virgin assholes were in fact very thin and slick so as to cause no discomfort when entering their chosen victim. Feeling one traveling across his own cute tushy, he was about to cry out a warning when the Prodder on his rear found his tiny quivering hole and gave it a quick and friendly 'hello'. Marty squeaked, as did every other boy in the room. Suddenly, all the other Prodders and Suckers, having slowed down their own ministrations while the children rested, began to pick up speed. Marty moaned, his tiny half-hard cocklett springing to life and rigidity. At the same time, the Prodder at his hole gave a solid push and, despite Marty's best efforts, forced its way past his clenched bottom and began to slither up his boypussy. Marty was not alone. Within moments, every boy in the room had a Prodder embedded deep in his ass – his once virgin boypussy now wrapped tightly around the Prodder that was gently beginning to fuck him. And boy did it feel great! The long and graceful strokes of the Prodder sliding in and out of his ass sent waves of joy up each boys' spinal column and deep into his brain. Each boy felt the pleasure in his boycock merge with the new pleasure in his boypussy and mind found bliss.

The room was alive with the near constant moans of arousal and the "slap slap slap" of Prodders fucking assholes vigorously. With the intense pleasure in their genitals, asses, nipples, tongues, and seemingly everything else, the children quickly and efficiently were driven to their eighth orgasm of the day. Right before their loads were released, the tentacles holding the boys all shifted slightly and each boy found the angle of the Prodder relentlessly fucking him had changed so that his immature prostate was directly in its path. Ruthlessly, the Prodders sped up, brutally pounding each boys defenseless prostates. While the boys had all wailed and writhed in pleasure during their previous orgasms, those reactions were was nothing compared to their reactions now.

Every boy in the room screamed loudly, the sound seemingly not human in its intensity and pitch. They twisted and flailed and writhed under the assault, trying desperately to end the devastating pleasure that was drawing each and every one of them toward madness. They climaxed once, twice, three times in a row without recovery as the creature, lost in its own joyous pleasure, sawed its Prodders furiously over the boys' ravaged prostates and its Suckers rapidly flew up and down their abused little boycocks. The helpless boys continuously shot their load, expelling so much cum that their balls were literally milked dry and their final climax looked like it should for a boy their age, completely dry. Sensing distress, the creature's awareness resurfaced and, realizing that the bodies of all its prey were making preparations to shut down, it quickly stopped its offensive.

As the minutes ticked by and all the boys in Ms. Arnett's second-grade class got a well-deserved rest, they began to quietly discuss what was going on. Thanks to the venom being pumped exhaustively into the room, none were terrified and most were only slightly concerned. Still, while there was a certain desire for this experience to be over, the children had started to really enjoy the creature's manipulations and many of them eagerly hoped for another round.

They got their wish. Some time later, as the seven and eight-year-old boys were again overcome with insatiable arousal and the Prodders and Suckers began their work, the second-graders felt contented to submit themselves to this new and wonderful ride. Some, like Matt Arroba, even did so with smiles on their faces.

Chapter Four
Middle School excitement

Two minutes eighteen seconds. That's how long it took for Mrs. Arthur's social studies class to go from having a perfectly normal day, albeit with Mrs. Arthur and their female classmates all MIA, to being tied up by mysterious tentacles and satiated from the most intense lust any of the eleven an twelve-year-olds had ever experienced. When the mass arousal hit the pre-teen boys, who were busy wondering where all the girls and their teacher had gone, each and every one of them became solely focused on their own immediate and desperate need. Like animals in heat and with no thought to being in public, the boys shoved their hands down their pants and began to desperately stroke their aching cockletts. Four of the boys, having already been aroused when the tsunami of lust hit, climaxed dryly into their pants, throwing their head backs and howling with pleasure as they came. The rest, almost all of whom had never touched themselves sexually, found that the mass arousal unlocked in them the carnal knowledge necessary to get off by rapidly abusing their little bodies.

As the seconds ticked by and the four who had already cum began their decent back to earth, quite a few of their classmates, realizing the difficulty in pleasuring one's self while clothed, began to pull up shirts while pulling down jeans and shorts. So focused on themselves, embarrassment registered to none of them as tighty-whities featuring superman, batman, and the classic white unadorned cotton were rapidly thrust down below knees so as to accommodate the flushed and horny children. Within moments, several of the more dexterous boys began to climax, their loud childish moans transforming into screams of adult adulation as their small cocks reacted to their abuse.

Ojukwu Akanni, the twelve year old being one of the original four to cum and having, by this point, cleared the fog of orgasm from his mind, stared dumbly at his classmates as they furiously wanked. He couldn't believe what was happening. Only moments before, he was talking with his neighbors while surreptitiously attempting to rearrange his stiffy (and for the little black boy, who stood just shy of five foot [1½ m] and weighed only ninety pounds [41 kg], his six-inch [15 cm] boycock was difficult to deal with when erect and was certainly obscene looking on such a small child.) Then the most amazing feeling hit him like a ton of bricks and, as his boyhood throbbed and his mind exploded, he lost track of everything around him and was swept up in his very first climax while awake. Now, with twelve-year-old Albert Galston to his left, moaning while jerking-off furiously, and with eleven-year-old Evan Tike on his right, stroking his own cock really fast while chanting "Oh god! Oh god!" over and over, it was all poor Ojukwu could do but stare in disbelief.

By this point, much of the class was in the throes of orgasm and were oblivious to the world. Some, like Terrance Budly, who had cum right as the mass arousal hit, and Brian George, who had been masturbating for months and was thus able to get himself off very quickly, were on their way down from their climax and had started to take notice of the state of the room. Most of them first noticed that a few of their classmates were still busy pleasuring themselves and soon after that, the poor children realized that they, too, had just participated in that dirty deed. Cheeks flushed with embarrassment as the boys began to rapidly get dressed. Without warning, the doors and windows flew open with a resounding 'thunk!' Startled, the children turned believing they had just been caught with their pants down (quite literally) by a teacher. Instead of Mrs. Arthur, though, a strange and awful sight greeted the sixth graders. Frozen at the threshold of the classroom, hundreds of things floated above the ground and seemed to await invitation to enter. When Mitchell Brown, the precocious blond and last sixth grader to climax squealed in delight as his hand flew up and down his little stiffy and he came for the first time in his life, the tentacle-like things seemed to take that as a sign and swarmed the eleven and twelve year olds en mass.

It was like shooting fish in a barrel. Many of its prey were still not in their right mind as they had just experienced their own peaks, most of them for the first time in their young lives. With their clothing still wrapped around their extremities and given the fact that these prey were very small, it took only a short amount of time for all eighteen of them to be surrounded, grasped, lifted off the ground, and re-arraigned for maximum efficiency. Two minutes eighteen seconds. That's how long it took for the boys in Mrs. Arthur's social studies class to go from having a perfectly normal day, albeit having just flogged themselves to climax in front of each other, to being tied up by tentacles and satiated from most intense lust any of the eleven an twelve-year-olds had ever experienced.

***

Oh crap! Oh crap! thought Garret Kilkenny, though only moans escaped his lips. The things were stroking his body so pleasantly; the eleven-year-old just knew he was going to explode like he had when he had vigorously rubbed his wiener earlier. He wiggled and squirmed, but still the things kept teasing his tummy and arms and shoulders. Two of them were tickling his ears but, instead of giggling, the tickling was making him feel like all the energy in the world was rushing toward his penis. His penis! "Ah!!!" he moaned in frustration, trying to grasp his little member despite his arms being restrained. The thing was rubbing him everywhere but where it counted! "Please please please" he begged in his head, "touch my wiener. Touch my wiener! I need 3; I need 3;" With that, the pleasure became too much and Garret reached the point of no return.

He began to climax, his immature prostate, suddenly confronted for the first time with seminal fluid, contracted forcefully and sent his boyjuice exploding out of his three-inch [7 cm] pecker. There wasn't much, his tiny boy-parts having only just started developing fluids in the past few minutes thanks to the creature's venom, but his four forceful ejaculations of creamy baby-batter arced gracefully into the air and landed across the chest of the boy slightly in front of him. "Ohhhhh!!!!" Garret moaned loudly, overcome with his second orgasm and holding on for dear life while his mind screamed "It's happening! It's happening again! Oh! AHHHHH!!!!"

***

Thomas Ringler whimpered. The twelve-year-old was about to climax for the third time in his life and his mind was fuzzy from the tentacles that were gently squeezing and twisting his nipples while the rest roamed and danced across his body. What's more, one of the things had slid into his mouth and was gently sucking on his tongue! He moaned involuntarily.

The break had been a chance to catch his breath and he was thankful because he had no idea what the hell was going on! His parents, to shy to have 'the talk' with him, had left him at the mercy of the school for his sex education. Unfortunately, he had been out that week with a terrible sinus infection and had missed the entire lesson, a fact unrealized by his parents. Sure, he had heard bits and pieces about sex from his friends, but nothing of any real significance. And this! Sex? Is that what was happening? What was that amazing feeling between his legs? What was that goo that came out of his penis?

"Help 3; Oh help 3;" he moaned pitifully around the Sucker in his mouth, the teasing of his small pink titties sending fireworks off in his brain. His nipples, erect from the stimulation, were being stroked lovingly and it was driving him crazy. His boycock, swaying back and forth due to his constant squirming, suddenly became even more rigid and, throwing his head back in a loud throaty moan, Thomas climaxed. Though he had produced a small amount of fluid only ten minutes before, this time his cocklett erupted powerfully, sending jet after jet of pearly-white jizz into the air. By the time he finished, Thomas's prostate had covered himself and his neighbors in his seed, twenty-three volleys' worth of spunk.

***

Jonah Kail was enjoying himself immensely. Not only had the twelve-year-old cum three time's already, he had been able to watch the other boys writhe around as they climaxed as well! Incredibly curious about sex stuff and more than a little knowledgeable about the subject thanks to hours spent online, Jonah was one horny pre-teen! The problem was that he could never convince any of the other boys in his class to drop their panties for him so he could explore. That's not a problem anymore, he thought lustily to himself as he watch the creature spread open the legs of Kyle Hograth and Jeremy Saunders, giving Jonah a perfect view of their stiff peckers. He groaned, first as he watched two Suckers slip down the cocks of the two hapless moaning boys and then as a Sucker latched onto his throbbing boyhood while two Prodders began to caress his ballsack.

For a while, the thing on his shaft flew up and down in time with the Suckers vigorously masturbating his classmates. With the two prodders gently stroking his balls and the sharp spikes of pleasure coming from his tits, it didn't take long for Jonah to reach climax. Just as he did, though, something thrust deep down into his urethra and, screaming in pleasure, Jonah came hard. As he shot blast after blast into the Sucker, which conveniently redirected some of his jizz into his own mouth, Jonah never tore his eyes away from the eleven-year-old boys writhing in their own climax only feet away.

***

Eleven-year-old Brian-James Wittmer, or BJ to his friends, was an old pro when it came to sex. In fact, though he had already cum eight times this morning (once by his own hand and seven times by the creature), it was just a drop in the bucket compared to the many times he had experienced the sweet joys of climax over the past few years. His parents, being radical hippies, believed that the familial unit was stronger when sexual intimacy was shared and encouraged. Thus, when he turned eight, his parents and older siblings introduced him to the joys of family sex. Since he was the youngest child and the family secret was now in the open, the Wittmer house became a regular orgy behind closed doors. Over the past three years, he had been involved in every kind of sex act his family could think of; the exception being that he had never had anything up his ass.

The rest of the family loved anal play. His father had been fucking his older brothers regularly since they were nine. Hell, his dad loved it when one of the boys used a huge strap-on and took him on the living-room couch! But the rule of the family was that no one was forced to do anything they didn't want to and, for whatever reason, BJ had vehemently denied anyone access to his backside. And boy did they try! His brothers in particular regularly tried to slip a finger up his poop-shoot when they were blowing him and his father loved to try to convince him to let him rim BJ. But BJ stood firm. No one touched his pucker!

At least, not until now, BJ thought to himself cynically as he struggled against the tentacles that were slowly bending his knees towards his chest and spreading them apart, exposing his little pink shitter to the world. No dummy, BJ saw the writing on the wall but was fervently hoping he was wrong. As a Prodder began to slowly make its way down his backside and began to slither in between his butt cheeks, BJ began to moan in defiance.

"Fuck! Three years I've kept Mike and Paul from getting to my backside. Three fucking years! And now this 3;" he seethed silently, feeling the Prodder approach his hole. He watched, with a bit of cynical amusement as the eyes of different boys shot wide open and each boy registered something wet and slimy poking his virgin boyhole. "OH shit!" BJ squealed suddenly, feeling his own assailant finally reach its destination and begin to tease his forbidden flower. "Errrgggghhhh" he groaned, tightening his sphincter even as the surprisingly wonderful sensations demanded he capitulate to the invasion. Suddenly, the thing began to push its mushroom head into him and, despite his best efforts, the slickness of the Prodder and its relatively thin nature overcame his denials and slid deeply into him. His long drawn out "AHHHHH!!!!!" immediately became a sharp "Oh! Oh! Oh!" as the Prodder suddenly withdrew quickly and then plunged back in. Within a few moments, the Prodder was fucking BJ furiously while accompanied by his high-pitched "Oh shit! Fuck me! Fuck me! Oh shitfuckfuckfuckmeeeeeeeee! Arggggggghhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!"

Tyler was an absolute mess. I mean, an absolute fucking mess. They were calling it 'AGZ' on the fucking news and everyone was fucking bitching and crying and talking about 'the poor children' and 'this horrible tragedy' and all that shit. Even his fucking parents were crying and hugging him and wanting to (gasp!) talk about it! Fuck! Fuck Fuck Fuck! He was sixteen for fucks sake! Ya, he was there. Ya, those things fucked and sucked him and did to him everything they did to all the other kids. And ya, he did all those things after he left the locker-room. But he wasn't thinking about that. No, he was driving down one of the back roads at fucking 1am, having snuck out of the house and into his car, completely focused on his experiences in the boys' locker room. Fuck!

"AHHH!" screamed Tyler in frustration and rage, hitting his steering wheel several times to emphasize his fury. It couldn't be! There was no way! It was the fucking alien shit that did it to him! He wasn't 3; He couldn't be 3; gay 3; "I'm not a faggot!!!" he yelled with as much conviction as he could muster. "I can't be" he choked out a moment later, his rage dissipating to terror and shame as his eyes began to release the tears that had wanted to flow all night. Tyler cried as he drove. Surely, he had liked girls before today. He'd gone on plenty of dates. He'd fingered Mindy Trullen three fucking weeks ago for fuck's sake! And yet 3;

He couldn't get the boys' locker-room out of his mind. It taunted him, wormed its way into his thoughts and reminded him coldly that, despite what he continued to repeat to himself over and over, he'd 3; enjoyed 3; what had occurred. "Oh god!" he wailed in despair. Focusing on that terrible, and wonderful, event, his mind began to replay his memories from the middle of the day as he sped down the road 3;

At Grant-Thorton high school, physical education was a required course for all four years. Moreover, unlike many schools, which allowed athletes to opt out, Grant-Thorton believed that physical education was an opportunity for the athletically gifted to encourage and set an example for those whose 3; talents 3; lay elsewhere. Moreover, Grant-Thorton, in a desire to encourage stronger ties between the classes, mixed the grades evenly while scheduling PE. This meant that everyone in the school participated in physical education and PE was the only class offered where all four grade levels inter-mingled. Were one to go into the locker room prior to the start of class, one would see forty boys and forty girls, ten from each class, changing into their gym attire and chatting amicably.

Most of the time, Tyler O'Shea plodded grudgingly through his second period physical education classes. He plodded because he was an extremely talented athlete who found it no difficulty to best his classmates in many of the sports chosen. His grudge stemmed from the fact that, as a varsity swimmer and diver, he felt like his time would be better spent doing something else. Additionally, Tyler (and most of the boys) wished that the PE classes were not single-sex. Unfortunately, every-time PE rolled around, the girls went to the other side of the campus to their own locker room and played sports that were suited to the fairer sex – not the rough and tumble sports the boys enjoyed. Many of the boys longed for the opportunity to show off for the girls and chat them up in the casual PE atmosphere. Still, the sixteen-year-old junior found PE a good time to socialize. He was on good terms with the other juniors in his class and was lucky that Peter Goodman and Joshua Uts, his two best friends, were also in the class with him. He liked most of the seniors, with Ken Dumas as the sole exception (though watching the lumbering idiot, one of the school's most feared bullies, try and fail at every sport they played caused him, Josh, and Pete endless bouts of fun). Two of the sophomores, identical twins Kyle and Kaycee (K.C.) Yates, were on the swim team with him and were fun to pal around with. Finally, there was Dustin Hill, a very quiet and shy freshman who tagged along behind him like a puppy most of the time. Dustin was also a diver and earlier that year, somewhat concerned that Dustin appeared too shy to make friends, Tyler kind of adopted the slight fourteen year old and was trying everything he could to get the kid to come out of his shell. Sometimes, when Dustin wasn't around, Josh and Pete would tease him that the boy had a crush on him. They were joking, of course, but it wasn't hard to see that Dustin idolized him. Hell, most of the school idolized him!

Tyler was gorgeous. A bi-racial child, he got his 6'2" [1.88 m] frame, his long powerful arms and legs, his large hands and feet, his high cheekbones, and his massive 8½ inch [21½ cm] cock from his African father. He also scored what he thought was the best last name ever! (His father's parents moved to Ireland before coming to the States and, as the story goes, picked their 'new' last name from a church directory in Donnygal. Hence, through his father, he was an O'Shea). From his Caucasian mother, he inherited his creamy white skin (tanned though, due to his constant swimming), his wavy shoulder length auburn hair, his deep green eyes, and his clear complexion. At 160lbs [72 kg], Tyler was thin but not scrawny, his compact muscles evident that his journey from boyhood to manhood was near completion. When he walked around the pool in his speedo, some folks focused on his beautiful boyish face, some focused on his toned and spectacular body, and some focused on the huge bulge that signified a majestic weapon in his swimsuit. Everyone who saw him knew instantly that there was something exotic about him (and quite a few saw more erotic imagery when they looked at him) and his looks, combined with his fierce intelligence, wonderful personality, and kind heart made him immensely popular and well liked.

Today, Tyler found PE to be rather different than normal. First, they didn't play any sports. Hell, he and the other guys never made it out of the locker room. Second, PE should have been over by now and, according to the clock, he should be halfway through fourth period. Third, and probably most unusual, Tyler found himself in the unexpected position of floating above the room, his back to the ceiling, his body being held in place by tentacles (with one furiously fucking his once virgin asshole, one sucking his engorged cock, several more fondling his nipples and balls, and still others stroking and licking the rest of him, though, thank god, the one that had been in his mouth and sucking on his tongue for so long had finally retreated some time ago), and his massive fuckstick spewing what he hazily thought was his fiftieth 3; sixtieth 3; maybe seventieth load of jizz? For quite some time, Tyler had been in the unique position of being able to view the entire room, watching somewhat glassy-eyed as the other thirty-nine teenage boys (for Coach McGregor had simply walked out at the beginning of class) were mercilessly raped to climax over and over and over again by the unyielding tentacles.

Over in one corner, seventeen-year-old Ken Dumas was still howling in rage, his tongue free to spit curses while he continued, albeit very weakly, to struggle against the tentacles holding him in place. In another area, the fifteen-year-old twins Kyle and K.C. Yates, facing each other and only inches apart, murmured reassurances to each other as they helplessly watched their brother get pounded savagely by the twin of the Prodder vigorously fucking their own ass. Tyler couldn't see sixteen-year-old Pete Goodman at all, but he could hear him yelp loudly every time he came. Seventeen-year-old Josh Uts, Tyler's other best friend, was down toward the other end of the room and Tyler could only see his bottom half and the Prodder that was stuffed up his asshole, his upper body obscured by a locker. As Tyler's eyes continued to scan to room, his next climax building almost to the point of no return has he was sucked and fucked with abandon, he finally settled his gaze on poor fourteen-year-old Dustin Hill, his small nearly-prepubescent body convulsing nearby in another earthshattering orgasm as the poor boy was tormented by the Prodder sawing its way across his abused prostate and the Sucker on his boycock flying incredibly fast up and down his modest four inches [10 cm]. The sight of poor sweet Dustin being milked to climax yet again sent Tyler over the edge.

"Dustin," he said loudly, as his climax began to subside and he was granted the very short reprieve he'd become use to, despite the sucker gently continuing to tease his now softening prick and the Prodder up his ass slowing down considerably. "Hey Dustin!" he voiced again, this time a bit louder.

"Huh?" replied Dustin, his voice cracking as his own orgasm began to fade and the tentacles pleasuring him slowing down as well. Turning to look directly at his hero, Dustin made eye contact with Tyler and immediately dropped his eyes, feeling ashamed at seeing his idol in such a compromising position.

"Are you ok, buddy?" prompted Tyler. At Dustin's nod of affirmation, Tyler continued loudly, hoping everyone could hear, "We are going to get out of this. I promise." Seeing hope flash in Dustin's eyes, he was content to let that hope linger and calmly began to wait for the next round of sex.

He was surprised, then, to hear Ken shout moments later "You stupid Fucker O'Shea! We're not getting out of this shit. We're good as dead. These things are going to kill us!"

"Fuck you!" retorted Tyler, angry as all hell that that stupid mother-fucker opened his god-damned mouth. "You don't know that! Hasn't killed us yet, we're all still here!"

"Ya," echoed the unseen Pete Goodman.

"Shut the fuck up Dume-ass," yelled one of the twins, suddenly aware that he had just called the senior bully by the unflattering mispronunciation of his last name – a standard way to get the big oaf angry.

"Fuck you!" replied Ken, continuing to spew vial insults at those around him. Soon, the room dissolved into an argument as the boys shouted at each other and insulted one another – with most insults flying toward Ken Dumas.

Several minutes passed while the teens argued. As was normal, the arousal hit en mass, causing every semi-soft cock in the room to spring to immediate attention. However, unlike the previous times, the tentacles did not begin an assault on their prey. Instead, Suckers gently disengaged from cocks and nipples, while Prodders gently slipped from well-lubed holes. The boys, immediately recognizing (for the first time in a long time) that their ass was no longer stuffed and that their cocks were free, stopped talking and, moments later, were shocked when they were gently put on the ground and the tentacles retreated to windows and doorways and ceiling ventilation shafts. They stood their dumbly, aware that they were no longer covered in tentacles, sans one that seemed to be attached to the back of their neck, just below their head.

The creature ruminated. Not every sexual pleasure was the same and it liked to sample the many varieties. So far, it had dined on the exquisite pleasure derived from using its dexterous appendages to force its passive and independent prey to peak after peak. Though it was wonderful and tasty and delicious, it was only the first course – a well-constructed appetizer. And, just as an appetizer is supposed to pave the way for the heart of the meal, the creature found that it was already salivating for the main course. Namely, its prey were about to become active participants in their own pleasurable experiences by necessarily relying on each other to achieve mutual satisfaction. The new peaks reached would not be quite as high physically as its own appendages would have induced in the human offspring (though it would still offer a helping hand 3; er 3; tentacle whenever it saw fit), but it would be richer and fuller because of the mental activity of the participants themselves in an effort to bring their classmates to their own peaks. Thus, over the last little while, the creature had been modifying and changing its venom so as to encourage (force) its prey, through mental manipulation, to explore their sexual urges with each other. Perfecting this devious new venom moments ago, the creature decided it couldn't wait any longer and began releasing this new strain; salivating for the upcoming meal.

Within moments, each boy seemed to recognize that, despite his throbbing erection and the desire to get off, he seemed back to normal and autonomous. Though the thing on his neck followed him, Tyler took this opportunity to quickly survey the room. He walked out from the locker area, over to the front door and, seeing a literal wall of tentacles, moved with purpose to the back exit. There, too, was a wall of tentacles barring his way. Moving back to the center of the locker room, a large open space covered in soft practice mat where the boys were going to continue their wrestling progression, Tyler stopped short as he saw two things simultaneously. First, the thing on his neck, which traveled up to the ceiling ventilation shaft, should have become tangled with the thing coming from Mark Denaldi's head and also stretching up to the ventilation shaft. Instead, as the two tentacles came in contact, his seemed to meld with Mark's for a brief second before coming out the other side. For all intended purposes, these things would stay with them regardless of attempts to tangle them together. Second, and not quite so academic, Tyler realized that he had just walked around the entire room naked as a babe, covered in the goo left by the tentacles, with his very un-babe-like erection steadily dripping pre-cum on the floors. Embarrassed, he quickly looked around at his classmates. Seeing that the other thirty-nine boys had all exited the lockers and were now standing on the wrestling mat with him (most naked but a few having grabbed towels and wrapped them around their waists, doing nothing to hide their obvious arousal), looking upon him as if he were the leader and held the secretes to their escape, Tyler shrugged his shoulders and said, "Well, what the fuck do we do now?"

In the silence that followed, each boy gave serious thought to his predicament. However, as the silence began to stretch and even Ken Dumas appeared not to be planning to interrupt, each boy found his attention wavering between thoughts of escape and thoughts of his arousal. Each boy was hard. Painfully hard. As the moments ticked by and they stood there confused, every one of the boys came to the startling and horrifying realization that his own arousal was growing. Whereas each one of the teens was able to ignore his sexual need after he was released from the tentacles, focusing on the problems associated with escape, now that time was passing, his sexual need was becoming more and more demanding. It was Dustin who, to everyone's surprise, voiced this thought aloud. "Um 3; Guys 3; I, um 3; I'm feeling 3; more 3; It's, um 3;"

Before he could finish his though, he was interrupted by a moan from the back. Everyone turned and looked at Milo Dawson, a young fourteen-year-old freshman who was, perhaps, even less sexually developed that Dustin. Milo was shaking as he moaned, his hands at his sides seeming to fight a war with his will. His small pecker, just shy of four inches [10 cm] and with only a light dusting of pubic hair above it, was swaying back and forth, the purple head demanding attention. As everyone watched, Milo's closed eyes shot open and, just as a camel's back will break with that one extra piece of straw, poor Milo's will broke in front of all his classmates. Quick as lightening, Milo grasped his throbbing boycock and began to frantically frisk it. Already slick with a combination of the tentacles spooge and his own pre-cum, it took five desperate strokes to send him over the edge. He climaxed, shot after shot after shot firing into the crowd of boys while his cum landed on arms and legs and chests and even a few faces.

The boys were all shocked. They stood their, facing this tiny fourteen-year-old as he frantically beat his meat and shot his wad all over them. When Michael Ramirez, a gangly senior, suddenly let out his own low moan and began to wank his throbbing erection, the spell immediately broke and each and every boy realized that he needed to get off NOW. The few towels worn were dropped without care on the mat. Hands flew to dicks and pricks and boycocks and fucksticks as each boy began to furiously jerk-off. Within moments, every boy climaxed and, moaning unabashedly and unconcerned about anything else, basked in the glow of self-gratification. For a minute, cum flew everywhere. Gallons and gallons of the stuff poured out of each erupting cock, from the most immature freshman to the most sexually developed senior. Bodies became drenched in spunk, from head to toe and back again. Tyler, his own hand flying up and down his erupting manhood, was at the epicenter of the boys and thus, the epicenter of the torrent of jizz. Cum inundated the floors and walls, much of it making its way onto the ceiling. The mat, several inches off the ground, soon seemed to be a jizz covered island floating in a sea of spunk. Unobserved by the boys, eventually several Suckers snaked down to the floor, which was now hidden by two inches [5 cm] of fuckslop, and began to suck it up and out into the yard. Still the boys erupted. Twenty-five 3; Twenty-six 3; Twenty-seven 3; Twenty-eight 3;

Eventually, as each boy's cock finally finished somewhere around shot thirty-two and they began to soften, the boys, exhausted, collapsed where they stood. Many simply sat down, the soft mat warm and wet from the ocean of semen that was slowly running off of it onto the floor as rivers of cum only to be vacuumed up by the greedy Suckers. Others, especially those around the edge of the mat, plopped themselves onto the benches and folding chairs that lined it.

Breathing hard, Tyler, sitting in a massive puddle of jizz, spoke first. "What the hell was that? Is it just me, or did that feel different?"

"Ya," replied one of the juniors. More agreements and several questions were put forth all at once, the boys all clearly recognizing that something new was happening. They were also tired and nervous and self-conscious. Many of them thought that talking about what was going on as a group would ease their embarrassment. After all, they were all naked. They were all covered in the cum of their classmates. Perhaps, worst of all, they had just jerked off in front of each other and, prior to that, had been forced to countless orgasms throughout the morning. It was embarrassing for a straight teenage boy to be in this kind of situation!

The poor boys only got about a minute of rest before another wave of arousal hit en mass. Within a span of seconds, forty soft and semi-soft teenage cocks became erect and pre-cum began to copiously flow from their now aching members. Groaning that the nightmare continued and moaning with sudden need, Tyler sighed to himself.

"Oh shit," he said aloud to no one in particular, not aroused enough to touch himself in front of his classmates as he had earlier. His arousal was strong, but not overpowering. "I'm fucking horny again!"

"Me too" replied Josh, sitting across from Tyler. "When's this shit going to end do you think, Ty?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly, and with a self-depreciating chuckle added, "but I really wanna jerk off again."

A round of unenthusiastic "ya, me toos" swept through the boys, each embarrassed by his obvious arousal and resigning himself to what was probably inevitable.

"Well," interrupted the ever annoying and somewhat stupid Ken, "I don't know about you pussies but I'm no faggot. I'm not gonna jerk off with all of you here!"

"You already did, stupid," said one of the sophomores, pissed off that his cock was starting to become insistent and tired of the jackass Ken.

"Um, ya," countered Ken unthinkingly, "but that was because I couldn't help it. I'm NOT doing it this time!"

Oddly bolstered by Ken's statement, many of the boys looked around and seemed to silently agree that maybe Ken had a point. Maybe, by force of will, they could keep themselves from masturbating. Tyler had the same thought as well. "Ya. Ok Ken. It's worth a shot. I'm going to try to hold off too." Quickly, the other thirty-three teenage boys agreed.

Thirty seconds after the pact was made and only about a minute after the arousal hit, the boys were barely keeping it together. Whimpers and moans were escaping clenched lips. Hands were twitching, ready to be called upon to service their owners. Several of the teens were shaking their heads and trying desperately to re-enforce their will. And through it all, cocks danced with excitement as arousal continued to build upon itself. Finally, not able to take it another moment, Dustin, who was sitting hip to hip next to his idol Tyler, lost control and, grabbing his hard little wood, began to jack furiously. Nothing happened. Despite his pulling and tugging, despite the slickness of his pre-cum and the speed of his fist, little Dustin could not do anything to satiate his need. "What the fuck!" he moaned desperately, his arousal continuing to increase rapidly. Within moments, other resolves broke as boy after boy followed Dustin's example and began to abuse their peckers, each realizing to late that his own fist offered no release to the maddening and ever building desire to cum. Tyler, heroically, was the last to give in (Ken was the third) and, as he began to stroke himself, it was as if his hand were air for all the good it did him.

As the madness continued to increase, so to did the desperation of the teenage boys. They flogged themselves furiously, each hoping to achieve climax and finding it unreachable. It was as if they made no effort whatsoever. As the seconds marched on, every boy began to think, and then believe, that death and insanity were moments away. For surely, they thought, if they couldn't get of at this most critical moment, they would die or lose their minds. And, as the need surpassed unbearable and each boy began to make peace with himself, Dustin, accepting his own loss, raised his eyes from his malignant penis and looked at his hero, Tyler. Sweating and moaning and on the ledge himself, poor Tyler looked to be in dire straits as both his hands sat hopelessly beside his massive pole and his eyes stared helplessly at his throbbing monster. Dustin, his heart breaking that such a good and wonderful soul would be so destroyed, did the only thing he could think of. He reached out with both his hands, grasped Tyler's incredibly hard cock, and began to pump it. Within three strokes, Tyler came powerfully.

"AHHHHHHHH!" he wailed as his cock erupted in a massive burst of cum which hit the ceiling with enough force to splatter and then rain down upon the teens. Blast after blast after blast continued to erupt as Tyler, amazed that the need that only moments ago was threatening to send him into madness was now receding as his cock was being pumped furiously by his pseudo little brother, Dustin. DUSTIN! his mind shouted, even as his lungs continued to wail in pleasurable relief. The poor kid must be in agony. Quickly looking at the poor freshman, still pumping blasts of baby-batter from his treacherous manhood, he noted immediately that the boy was losing it fast. Though his arms continued to stroke Tyler up and down, his eyes had glazed over and his face was going slack. Acting on instinct, Tyler's hand shot to Dustin's boyhood and, wrapping around the stiff four inches [10 cm], began to pump wildly. Tyler had never jerked another guy off before, but that inexperience was no impediment. Within two strokes, the sixteen-year-old, who was still in the middle of his own incredible climax, pulled the fourteen-year-old back from the edge of oblivion and sent him over a different cliff – one which involved the heights of pleasure. "Ohhhhhhh!!!!!" Dustin sighed as he began to shoot his own load high into the air as his face and eyes snapped back into focus. For several seconds, the two boys stared into each other's eyes and pumped each other's pricks, cumming buckets and moaning all the while.

His mind working a mile a minute, Tyler, who was only twenty-two blasts into a thirty-six blast climax, realized suddenly that, though he and Dustin were alright, the other boys might not be. Quickly breaking eye contact with Dustin (though his fist continued to fly up and down the boy's erupting cock), he scanned the room. All eyes were on he and Dustin. Instead of seeing disgust or recrimination though, each boy looked longingly at the pair in the middle, pulled out of his own fog somewhat by the twin sounds of orgasm and desperate for the same release. So lost, the boys were unable to truly process what they were seeing and, watching the boys stare dumbly at him, Tyler put the pieces together in his head.

"You have to jerk each other off!" he screamed. "Jerk each other off!" His voice, clear and authoritative, broke through the remaining fog of desire and each teen, with what little control he had left and still drowning in a sea of arousal, reach out to the nearest prick.

Hands found unfamiliar cocks. Cocks were grasped by unfamiliar hands. Kyle and K.C., the twin sophomores, grabbed each other's pricks, their hands finding the change easy as their wickedly hard teen poles were just as identical as the rest of them. Three freshmen, whose names Tyler was unable to recall at that moment (Isaac Roman, Gary Masters, and Eric Hudson), formed a chain where the Isaac pumped Gary who pumped Eric who pumped the Isaac. Apart from a couple of exceptions (Isaac, Gary, and Eric being the most notable as the three best friends had been having circle jerks for months), most of the boys had never touched another boy's private parts and, similarly, had never had another boy stroke his. Within seconds of speaking, Tyler found that every boy in the room was now vigorously pumping his neighbor up and down and, within three or four strokes, was sending his neighbor into earth-shattering orgasm. Cries of release filled the room as cock after cock exploded, cum flying everywhere. And still, the boys continued to jerk each other off, instinctually aware that his own pleasure was incumbent on his neighbor's willingness to stroke him and thus willing to pleasure his neighbor in exchange. Even Ken Dumas was avidly stroking the tiny cock of Milo Dawson, who was sitting next to him, while Milo's small hands flew up and down his own quivering six and a half inch [16½ cm] manhood.

Though it seemed to last forever, the boys eventually began to come down from their latest climaxes. Gingerly, hands were withdrawn from their classmates' pulsating cocks as the boy they just jacked-off spilled the last few ounces of his seed. Sitting naked around the large mat, cum covering every surface, the boys, all dripping from head to toe in spunk (much of which wasn't their own), were acutely aware of what they'd just done. They'd just jacked another boy off and, perhaps more importantly, had been jacked-off in return! And came!

Silence and embarrassment swept through the room. Tyler, having recovered from his climax before anyone else, was lost in thought. He'd just jerked Dustin off and, if he was honest with himself, he kind of enjoyed it. Moreover, the kid had actually grabbed his dick first and he definitely enjoyed that! I must be crazy, he thought to himself. Coming to his senses because of the oppressive silence now permeating the room, Tyler looked around. The boys were all flushed and, if Tyler saw what he thought he saw, trying desperately to avoid looking anyone else I the eye. Eyes looked at the mat (or rather, the thick frosting of teen spunk that covered the mat) or towards the ceiling. Many of the boys simple had their eyes closed. Conspicuously, everyone in the room had his hands folded in his own lap as if they had never ventured anywhere. Glancing at last at Dustin, Tyler found himself shocked that his previous observation wasn't entirely accurate – Dustin's eyes were indeed closed and his hands were in his own lap, sitting right next to Tyler's right hand that was still grasping Dustin's now half-hard boycock.

Incredibly embarrassed, Tyler snatched his hand away. "So 3; Um 3;" he began, "Is everyone alright?"

Heads bobbed up and down while a few brave souls muttered "yes"or "Uh huh."

Suddenly, Jonathon Starks, one of the remaining seniors, cleared his throat and, almost apologetically, glanced next to him at Travis Hendricks, the junior who he had gotten off with. "Uh 3; Thanks Travis 3;" he said somewhat wryly in an obvious attempt to hide his own embarrassment. "You kinda saved my life. Don't know what's wrong with me 3; My hand always used to be able to take care of 3; um 3; business."

"Well, um 3; Don't mention it," replied Travis, his embarrassment rising as everyone was now staring at he and Jonathon. "And 3; Uh 3; Thanks for your help too."

Tyler, hoping to spare poor Travis any more humiliation, cleared his own throat. "So, I don't know about any of you, but 3;" taking a deep breath, Tyler decided that leaders like him didn't back down from uncomfortable admissions, "I couldn't get myself off. I mean, I could make myself cum. Anybody else have that problem?"

With that disconcerting admission, the fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, and seventeen-year-olds sagged in relief. Each one of them was currently wondering the same thing and was grateful that Tyler was the first to admit this new embarrassing problem. If he could do it without being mocked, they could as well. Opening up, the crowd began to admit that they, too, couldn't seem to complete the task that they had each done hundreds of times before.

Little did the boys know, this new development was by design. The creature, its adaptive venom interfering with their brains, was literally blocking the 'orgasm' command from being send to their reproductive organs until specific criteria was met. Specifically, none of its prey could reach their much desired peak with the same partner unless no new partner was readily available. As each had previously brought himself to his peak through self-stimulation, this most recent round required the use of a different partner. Moreover, venom was still evolving and would soon introduce other criteria that would need to be met before each prey could reach their peak. Only a few seconds into the speculation as to why they were unable to get themselves off, the boys were again hit with a massive wave of arousal. In moments, every boy was again hard as a rock with a torrent of pre-cum leaking from the head of his prick. Just as before, though incredibly horny, each boy was able to control himself so as not to immediately start jacking off.

"Here we go again" muttered Ken Dumas loud enough for everyone to hear, with those sentiments being shared by the rest of the crowd.

"Alright guys" said Tyler, his voice thick with both authority and lust. "I'm going to try something." Already feeling his arousal building as it had previously, Tyler, self-conscious but steel-willed, grasped his aching cock and began to jerk-off. The rest of the crowed watched, not quite so bold as to start pleasuring themselves before it was absolutely necessary. Within a dozen flicks of the wrist, Tyler, reluctantly, stopped. "Nope" he said resignedly, "I can tell. It's like before. No luck."

The crowed sighed, each boy knowing exactly what Tyler was talking about and the implications therein. Loa Tsu-Yang, a sophomore, was the first to break the uncomfortably horny silence. "So, that means 3;"

"Yep" Tyler responded already desperate to get off and knowing his control was slipping, "I can't get myself to cum."

Leading by example and aware of how incredibly gay he was about to sound, Tyler turned to Dustin. "Um, Dustin? Do you think you could 3;?"

"Ya," responded Dustin, a little more quickly than Tyler would have thought and secretly somewhat pleased by the eagerness in Dustin's voice. "But only if you help me out too," Dustin continued, blushing bashfully.

"Sure," responded Tyler.

The crowed was conflicted. Each boy was, in a small part of his head, appalled at the display of gayness going on. In a much larger and more reasonable part, knew necessity when it bit him in the ass and was glad that Tyler and Dustin were paving the way for him to follow through with what was going to be the most embarrassing request of his life. Quietly and quickly, because the persistent arousal was becoming too much to bear, the boys made eye contact with their previous partners and, with quick nods and shrugs of acceptance, forty boys reached, for the second time that day, toward another boy's junk and, grasping it, began to wank. Within fifteen seconds, all mutual masturbation had ceased.

"What the hell?" several of the boys exclaimed. It wasn't working! The hand on his cock felt like nothing at all and, despite his partner's efforts, was bringing him no relief from the sexual agony. Tyler, confused that Dustin's grasp bought no release, was the first to speculate a possible solution. Shuffling quickly over to Josh Uts, who was sitting closest to him (besides Dustin), Tyler slapped away Chase Walsh's hand and grasped his friend's teenage member. Josh gasped. With a dozen flicks of his wrist, Tyler sent Josh over the edge as the junior began to pump out his copious seed.

The crowed, having watched Tyler's movement and the resulting climax of Josh, got the point immediately. Each boy, in that moment, accepted that there was nothing he could do about his own need for release and that all he could do was worry about the others and their needs. Moments later, new hands were stroking new cocks to new orgasms without any thought to consent or status or appearances. In fact, when junior Bryon Hippee found that sophomore Jeremy Gallson, whose cock he was jerking, was busy pleasuring junior Neil Tack and that it appeared no one would take care of his own powerful need, he almost fell into despair. Then, like an angel of mercy, Quinton Figliani, a senior with whom Bryon had always had an adversarial relationship, noticed the poor boy's plight and, without any thoughts to the contrary, stretched out his left hand (for his right was busy with the small cocklett of the freshman Milo Dawson) and, despite his somewhat awkward position, began to furiously beat-off Bryon.

Very soon, the room was filled with moaning and cumming teenage boys as cock after cock erupted jets of boycum. Gallons of the stuff were being generated and running off the mat. Lucky for the boys, the Suckers were still hard at work transporting the ocean of cum out of the locker room. Still, as each boy came down from his climax, he found himself wallowing in thick pools of jizz and, to tired too fuss, simply embraced the warm goo as part of the mess he was in. Steadily and with only mild difficulty, the boys experienced brief rests coupled with some light conversation, immense arousals hitting suddenly, and periods of time where they were masturbated by a different boy while they, in turn, masturbated a new partner as well. Fourteen minutes and four orgasms later, the boys found themselves a well-oiled machine comfortable (or as comfortable as a group of straight teenage boys covered in each others spunk and being forced to jerk each other off continually could be) in this new routine.

As had become the method of operation for the boys, after their latest orgasm had concluded but before the new arousal hit, the teenagers quickly and efficiently found new partners with which to jerk off. A couple of the boys, utilizing the momentary freedom, walked over to the entrance of the locker room to see if it was possible to get out. Finding the wall of tentacles still bared their way; most of them headed right back to the mat in order to get settled. Ken Dumas, though, thought to try something. Hustling over to his locker, he opened it quickly and, after wiping off his hands, dug into his backpack for his prized Zippo lighter. Thinking himself clever, Ken proceeded back to the entrance and, after creating a flame, placed the lighter right under one of the stationary tentacles. It had no effect.

The crowed, having watched curiously this whole exchange, shrugged it off as an honest but ineffectual attempt to escape. Tyler, particularly, was somewhat impressed that Ken had made the attempt. He almost wished that he had had the presence of mind to do something like that. Maybe there was something in the coach's office, like a knife or something, he could try next? Settling himself next to Loa Tsu-Yang, he pondered the possibilities as the two boys silently agreed to assist each other.

It was then that two things happened simultaneously. First, as expected, the mass arousal hit each boy. Second, and totally unexpected, Ken Dumas, who was on his way back to the group, found himself swarmed with angry Prodders and Suckers. While the boys may have appreciated Ken's attempt, the creature certainly did not. It hadn't been injured, of course, but it did not like its authority being challenged nor did it appreciate any attempt to inflict pain upon itself. Indignant, most especially because it did its best to minimize the pain of its prey and yet one had the audacity to try to harm it, the creature decided to teach the offending prey a lesson.

Stunned by the sudden movement, none of the boys, despite their raging desire, made any attempt to grasp their partner's leaking pole. Instead, the thirty-nine boys sat all around the mat in silence as Ken was maneuvered to the center of the gathering, lifted up several feet into the air, and assaulted by the tentacles. Similar to what had been happening less than half an hour before, Suckers latched onto his tits and cock while Prodders began to massage his balls. One particularly large Prodder, just big enough to cause some discomfort, quickly and forcefully pushed its way up his asshole, the venom having had a chance to tighten it and make it more elastic, as Ken howled both in shock and indignity. Almost immediately, though, his howls became moans of pleasure as he was brutally fucked and sucked in front of all of his classmates. Moreover, the creature, having just completed the second stage of its venom, allowed that venom to introduce a second set of criteria for the prey to meet before they could achieve their peaks.

In a particularly clever move (if the creature did say so itself), the knowledge of the new criteria was imparted via the Feeder on Ken's neck directly into his brain, suddenly making him aware of exactly the situation he found himself in. Basically, in order to cum, each boy below him would need to be on the receiving end of another's oral ministrations and, as a means of punishment, Ken would be unable to cum until all the other boys had done so. Ken wasn't sure of where this knowledge came from, but he was absolutely certain of its accuracy.

"Oh shittttt," Ken wailed, his body being pleasantly abused while his mind suffered real turmoil. He wouldn't cum until the others had blown each other! "No, no no!" he started to repeat to himself, in time with the Prodder striking his prostate.

Their arousal finally getting their attention, the boys below Ken slowly began to tear their eyes away from their unfortunate classmate and started to stroke the boy sitting with them. Within a matter of moments, though, each boy recognized the futility of the action. It was the same as before.

"But 3; But 3;" complained poor Loa, his hands wrapped around Tyler's massive prick while his mind wrestled with the fact that Tyler's hand on his own five inches [12½ cm] was bringing him no relief. "We haven't touched each other yet!"

"I know" Tyler exclaimed loudly, frustrated that he couldn't get off. Quickly, he began to wank himself but abandoned that shortly as it proved ineffective. By this point, all of the boys were complaining to their partner and to the heavens that relief seemed unreachable. As the moments marched on, their panic and arousal continued to build. Soon, they would loose their minds in their lust.

Tyler calmed himself and focused. There had to be a way to solve this new puzzle. He sat motionless, listening to the others complain while trying to find a solution himself. However, while he seemed to be able to tune out much of the ambient noise, he could not get Ken Dumas out of his head. The poor boy's "No, no, no" above him had such an edge of desperate madness to it, that Tyler, so good of nature, couldn't tune out the jackass's pleas. "Ken!" he shouted, trying to get the other boy's attention and, at least for the moment, putting his own problem aside so he could give comfort. "Ken! It'll be all right! We'll figure it out!" His voice, cutting through the din, was able to break through Ken's pleasurable haze and remind the senior of his surroundings.

"Tyler," Ken, snapping out of his fog and shouting loud enough to quiet the whole room, "It's blowjobs! That's the only way to cum! Hurry! I can't cum until you all do and I need to bad! Please! Blowjobs!"

"Huh?" The boys around the room reacted in the same way. Did Ken just say a blowjob was how they would have to get themselves off?

"No fucking way," said Brett Banteer to no one in particular, the junior reasserting his masculinity as the defense mechanism typical of adolescent boys. His classmates, for the most part, agreed with various halfhearted statements. If what Ken said was true 3;

"Please!" cried Ken, his concentration slipping as his need became unbearable and his body tried repeatedly to orgasm, unable to do so because the creature's venom was blocking those orders. "You have to! It's the only way! Ohhhhhh!"

Tyler, listening to his classmates and somehow certain that Ken was telling the truth, pondered their situation. A blowjob, huh? That was how they would get off? He mulled it over for a moment and found that, despite his initial agreement with Brett that blowing another dude was out of the question, he was strangely neutral about the idea. Am I crazy? he thought to himself? No. It's got to be the situation. I mean, pretty soon, we are all going to have to do it just like we've had to jerk off or jerk someone else off. Why do the guys think we will be able to hold out this time? And Ken sounds like he's dying up there. Maybe 3;

Shaking his head at his mind's ramblings and becoming more and more distracted by his aching sex, Tyler decided that enough was enough. He'd go with his gut. "Guys, I really think 3;"

>"Shut the fuck up O'Shea," Brett cut him off quickly, knowing that Tyler would probably advocate this new gay solution and, secretly, fearful that Tyler (as well as his own frustrating arousal) would actually persuade him to put another guy's dick in his mouth! "I'm not doing it. No fucking way!"

Several others, but noticeably fewer than before, echoed his statement.

"Ya, but Brett, I'm not sure we have a choice," Tyler argued, now focusing the majority of his attention on his growing desperation to cum.

"PLEASE!!!!" screamed Ken above them, totally lost in his own harrowing rape and pleading to the universe to let him climax.

Looking around at his classmates and seeing depressed capitulation in many of their eyes, Tyler understood that most of them had already accepted what was to come and were only waiting for someone to make the first move. Gathering all of his courage and with all the eyes in the room (sans Ken) looking on, he turned back to Loa as the fifteen-year-old sophomore, shivering with arousal, stared wide-eyed at him. Surely Tyler wasn't going to 3;

Laying down somewhat so his own prick was accessible should Loa return the favor (of which, Tyler was fervently praying that he would), Tyler shifted his eyes from Loa's face to his hard and dripping five inches [12½ cm]. As Tyler brought his head down and gently wrapped his lips around the head of Loa's cock, the thought that Loa looked kind of cute like this flashed briefly and unbidden across his mind. Quickly, scared somewhat by the thought, Tyler dove forward and sucked all five inches [12½ cm] of Loa into his mouth, his tongue playing across the boy's cock head and his nose buried in the boy's curly black pubes. Loa mewed like a cat upon contact, his whine quickly becoming a loud throaty moan as Tyler began to inexpertly bob up and down on his boyhood. It felt amazing and Loa knew that this stimulation would undoubtedly get him off.

For Tyler, it was a confusing and exhilarating experience. He'd tasted his own cum a great deal that morning as the Suckers had force-fed him his own spunk every time he came. Yet Loa's tasted different, more meaty and tangy. Moreover, the flesh itself tasted salty and not altogether unpleasant. Bringing his hand up to rub Loa's low hanging balls and eliciting a new moan from the excited boy, Tyler admitted to himself that sucking cock was not as bad as he was led to believe. Then, midway through another bob, he felt the most amazing sensation of hot warm lips and a slick tongue latch themselves on his own needy manhood. Loa, having recovered his senses and mustered his own courage, had leaned down and begun to suck him off. The sophomore, having never sucked another boy off, let alone a massive eight and a half inch [21½ cm] prick like Tyler's, could only fit the first four inches [10 cm] or so into his mouth. Despite this limitation and thanks to the pleasure high he was now riding, Loa brought his right hand up and began to pump Tyler's remaining prick while his tongue and lips flew quickly over what remained.

The rest of the class watched in morbid fascination as Tyler and Loa, now lost in their own world of sucking and being sucked, rolled over into a sixty-nine position, with the much smaller Loa on top of the much larger Tyler, and began to wildly slurp each other's poles with abandon. With their own arousals reaching critical mass and this uninhibited display comforting them as to what they were about to do, the thirty-two boys abashedly looked at their partner and, reaching silent agreement, began to maneuver themselves so that each would have access to the others rigid and leaking cocks. One by one, the boys gathered their nerve and, driven by the now inescapable need to get off themselves, descended to their partner's cock and tentatively took it into their mouths. Shocks of pleasure and groans of joy were released throughout the room as boy after boy felt hot wet lips wrap around his horny tool. Moreover, as each boy began to bob his head up and down his partners prick, most realized that sucking cock was not nearly as offensive as they first believed and that the other boy's fuckslop tasted remarkably like their own.

Soon, the room was filled with the moans of teenage boys receiving what, for most of them, was their first blowjob. Sixteen boy-pairs rolled and slurped and sucked and bobbed against each other, inexperience immaterial as lust and need drove each boy to enthusiastically pleasure his partner. Above them all floated Ken Dumas, like a twisted Hierophant, moaning in lust and need himself and awaiting desperately for the release only available once the rest of the room achieved theirs.

The first to cum was Isaac Roman, though not because Neil Tack, the burly junior who was an offensive tackle on the football team, was a particularly good cocksucker. Indeed, Neil had never sucked a cock in his life, despite the fact that he desperately wanted to! Neil, deeply ashamed of his own homosexuality and thus far into the closet, had only watched and read gay pornography and had no live experiences from which to draw. Yet, despite the fact that he was incredibly attracted to large hairy older daddy types, he still couldn't help but be incredibly aroused that he was finally giving his first blowjob, regardless of the fact that the kid he was blowing was a nearly hairless, rail-thin, fourteen year old freshman. It was in the heat of this arousal, and drawing from the many hours he spent online, that, as his head continued to bob on Isaac's four and a half inch [11½ cm] pecker and his lips continued to suckle the kid's tender flesh, his right hand slowly traveled up Isaac's thigh and around to his rear towards the poor freshman's tight pucker.

Isaac, on top of Neil and with his knees outstretched to support him in this awkward sixty-nine, was a sitting duck. Collecting the warm spunk on the kid's lower back and butt cheeks, Neil quickly and efficiently began to trace his finger along Isaac's crack until, having found and teased the small knot of supple boypussy and before Isaac could pull his mouth of the junior's cock to protest, Neil rammed his cum-slickened middle finger hilt-deep into the teen. Isaac screamed in shock and pleasure, erupting a moment later when Neil's finger curled and found his defenseless prostate. As Isaac started to shoot, Neil, highly aroused and suddenly finding his mouth awash with a shuddering and erupting boydick, climaxed as well. Almost immediately, both boys found that their mouths were full of spunk. Isaac immediately pulled off of Neil's gushing prick and, while spitting out the tangy substance, received blast after blast directly into his face. Neil, after unsuccessfully trying to swallow all of Isaac's seed, pulled his head back so only his lips were latched around the head of Isaac's boycock and redoubled his effort to swallow as much of the divine nectar as possible, regardless of the fact that most of it was flowing out of his full mouth.

Soon, the room was flooding again as boy after boy shot his load into his partner mouth. Some of the boys, like Neil, simply continuing to suck their partner and swallowing some of the cum in the process. Others pulled off the erupting cocks, only to receive full cum facials as they continued to jack their partner by hand. As before, each boy ejaculated gallons of semen through dozens of forceful eruptions, covering the mat and their partner with a fresh coat of creamy boyspunk. Brett Banteer was the last to get his partner off, his lack of enthusiasm for the nasty deed a direct contrast with junior Chase Walsh's enthusiastic oral ministrations of his own cock. However, Brett's mouth was eventually flooded with Chase's seed and, as Chase groaned in appreciation while continuing to bob up and down on Brett's still erupting boyhood, the whole room was drowned out in Ken Dumas's unearthly shriek of climax.

Within a minute, all was silent. Each boy lay where he came, with many simply resting their heads against the cock of the boy they had just blown. Ken was gently lowered to the ground with the knowledge that his most recent trial was punishment for attempting to cause pain, something poor Ken decided he was never going to do again! Unlike before, there was no conversation and no attempts at escape. Each boy was lost in his own thoughts, considering and evaluating his actions in light of the circumstances. Most of the teens were not thrilled with the fact that they had just blown another guy, their heterosexuality screaming at them that their actions were unacceptable. A larger, more reasonable portion of the brains, argued that they were not responsible for their actions, as they had been placed in an impossible situation. Tyler, now thankful that Ken, and not he, had been the one to try to burn the tentacles, tried desperately to avoid thinking about the fact that he had kind of enjoyed the whole thing.

After a minute of introspection, each boy was rudely shocked back into reality by the next wave of massive arousal. Groaning, the boys all sat back up and, accepting the inevitable, began to pair off again, knowing that a change of partner was probably necessary. Tyler found himself with Pete and Josh and, as the three best friends settled down, it was unconsciously decided that they would form a daisy chain. Despite the fact that Josh and Tyler had jerked each other off earlier, neither boy thought that that earlier experience would hinder this new round of arousal. They were right. Well before the arousal reached a critical point, all three boys found themselves blowing another male for the second time that day; Tyler sucking Pete, Pete sucking Josh, and Josh sucking Tyler. They weren't the only ones. Several groups, mainly of friends, had also formed chains and begun well before it was necessary to swap blowjobs. Even Ken Dumas, who hadn't yet sucked anyone off, was pulled into the group of the remaining seniors. When Michael Ramirez offered Ken his cock as he prepared to take Jonathon Starks' meat in his mouth and Ken began to protest, Quinton Figliani, who at the same time was preparing to go down on Ken, shut him up with a low "Shut up and suck him, dumbass." Shocked, Ken did was he was told and the daisy chain of seniors was complete. In only a short time, the room was again filled with sucking sounds as the teenagers moaned and writhed in a massive cum-covered pile in the middle of the mat.

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