Swamp Without Pity

by Kooshmeister

The boy ran through the swamp. He was eight years old, skinny with short blonde hair and he was completely naked, having been relieved of his clothing by his captor, the person - no, creature - that he was racing to evade. His bare feet fought against the sucking mud and he scrambled over jagged rocks and rotting logs, sweat pouring down his nude body, which was covered in a mixture of sweat, mud and slimy fetid water, scratched up and a little bloody from all the thorns and tree branches that repeatedly struck his bare skin as he ran, and his wrists and ankles bore the telltale marks of having been tightly bound with ropes very recently. But he tried to ignore the pain and charged ahead as fast as his skinny legs would propel him, his mind set on one thing and one thing only, escape. In spite of his terror, his little cock, only a few inches long, was erect. The excitement of the chase... and the shameful enjoyment of what the monster had done to him. And what further was in store for him if he got caught.

The further he went, the deeper the water of the swamp got, the harder it became to extract his feet from the sucking mud, and behind him, swishing through the branches, nettles and undergrowth, he could hear his pursuer gaining, yelling obscene threats. The boy was sure in spite of everything that he would escape, though, a confidence that came from sheer desperation. After all, he'd grown up around this swamp and hunted for toads, snakes and lizards in it for as long as he could remember. But two things ensured his doom despite his experience with his surroundings. For one, he'd lost his glasses, turning the world around him into a greenish gray blur. Secondly, in his panic he didn't realize he was running the wrong, deeper into the swamp, and straight into the vile place known locally as the "dead hollow." According to local folklore, no one who entered the hollow ever returned. There were rumors that it was haunted. Perhaps, he thought fleetingly, that was where the thing that had taken him from the farmhouse where he lived in the middle of the night came from.

Only when he noticed the ground was sloping gradually downward, hills rising up on either side of him, did the boy realize where he was heading. But he couldn't stop now. He'd rather risk the unknown horrors of the dead hollow than spend another minute with that purple monstrosity with its bulging eyes, multiple limbs and long, prehensile tail. And thus in his desperation he sealed his fate, for as he ran deeper and deeper into the hollow, he made the fatal mistake of glancing back with wide, wild eyes to see if his pursuer was gaining. When he snapped his head back around, he was a mere half a foot or so from the old wooden sign. He had just enough time to process that it read "Danger! Quicksand!" before his sweating, naked body charged through it, splintering the rotten wood and sending it flying every which way, he'd blundered forward right into the bubbling quicksand pool entirely of his own momentum.

He sank in up to his knees in seconds as the viscous, glue-like substance that composed the pool began swallowing him. He gave a startled shriek. He knew you weren't supposed to struggle when you were sinking in quicksand, but alas, he was panicking and not thinking clearly, and his desperate thrashing only served to make him sink ever deeper... and much faster. He whimpered as he felt the cold, slimy grip of the big oozing up over his small balls and his little erect cock and flow into the crack of his ass, arching his back and flailing his arms as he sank in up to the waistline. Behind him, he heard movement. And a voice.

"Looks like you've got yourself stuck real good there, kiddo," said the purple monster. For even facing the other way, the boy knew it was him. He recognized his voice. As well as the shadow that was cast over him. When he boy didn't respond, the thing said, "Tell you what. I'll through you a line and pull you out. But only if you promise to be obedient and never run away again."

The shadow shifted a bit and the boy saw the creature was twirling a rope or a vine around one of the fingers on his upper hand. No! Bemoaning the cruelty of having to make such a sadistic choice at such a young age, the blonde boy decided he'd rather face his doom here than return with his former captor. After all, he'd only end up living a little bit longer. The monster had made that plain enough. And he preferred death on the depths of the sucking bog deep in the dead follow than death in the depths of the reptilian monster's belly.

"No! Never!" he wailed.

"Suit yourself then," said Randall Boggs with a shrug, and made to leave, but decided to stay and watch the escapee's demise.

Slowly, the boy sank down, the oozy mud creeping up over his twisting, bare, sweaty torso until he was in up to his armpits. He tried to raise his arms, but the mud clung like rotten taffy and dragged his arms under. He opened his mouth to scream as the oozing vileness crept up over his neck and chin, but it entered his mouth, stifling his cry to nothing but a choking little gurgle. Reflexively, he breathed in, nostrils flaring, and was strangling on the mud even as the top half of his head remained visible above the surface. Deep below, he orgasmed, eyes rolling back and up as he added his jizz to the goo that was claiming his life. His twitching, bulging eyes sank under, leaving only the very top of his head with his tousled blonde hair visible... and there he stopped sinking. Whether it was because he'd touched the bottom or because he'd strangled to death and stopped struggling and thus stopped sinking, Randall couldn't tell. But though he waited several minutes, the boy didn't sink any further.

Randall grunted with mild disappointment, throwing aside the vine he'd been prepared to toss to the kid. Oh well. As cute as he'd been, as delicious as he probably was, he was just one of many boys he'd abducted and brought to the swamp. And there always more, he thought to himself as he turned and began walking back to his makeshift campsite, from which the now dead boy had escaped, leaving behind the unmoving top of the blonde-haired head sticking up out of the bubbling, slimy pool. Yes, always more. He grinned.

~*~

The school bus pulled away from the curb, empty except for the driver. The two boys left standing on the curb in the late summer heat were the last kids on the bus' route. Wiping their sweaty brows, fraternal twin brothers Taylor and Tyler trudged towards up the front door to their house, which was one of the only inhabited houses in the new housing project being build on the edge of the swamp. The boys' parents had gotten on the ground floor with the ironically-named High Country Investments, which was developing the otherwise uninhabitable swamp area of the region, although it was slow going.

Taylor and Tyler were almost identical save for two distinguishing characteristics the latter had which separated him from his brother; red hair and light freckles on his cheeks. Taylor meanwhile had brown hair. Both boys were wearing T-shirts with shorts and sneakers, but it did nothing to help fight back the humid heat that rolled in from the still undeveloped marshlands baking under the hot sun at the end of the block. To the sounds of power saws, hammers and vehicle engines, the boths trudged along the cobblestone path that weaved in between freshly laid sod.

Little did they suspect that they were being watched by unfriendly eyes from the currently empty, weed-choked lot directly across the street, a property just at the boundary of the swamp. Randall Boggs had been watching the house for some time now since his banishment to the world of humans. His time among them had not been pleasant. His already low opinion of them was worsened by the numerous beatings upside the head with a shovel he'd received upon arriving and ending up in a mobile home, where he was mistaken for an alligator. He still had a scar on the left side of his head and couldn't see properly out of that eye. An alligator, he thought, scoffing as he eyed the boys approaching their front door. How insulting.

Since then, he'd burned with resentment against all humankind. He'd been taking his vengeance, starting with the son of the woman who'd beaten him with the shovel. Over the past year, Randall had stolen away multiple children, all of them male, as that was the purple-skinned, four-armed, four-legged reptilian monster's special preference when it came to his preying upon the young humans, dragging them deep into the wilderness - usually festering swamps or deep, dark woods - where he had his fun with them, ensuring they'd never return. His forked tongue slowly slid out along his bottom lip as he eyed the two boys he'd chosen for tonight, feeling a sexual hunger as well as a more conventional one slowly building up inside of him.

Producing a key, Taylor unlocked the front door, letting himself and his brother in. They were grateful for the air conditioning. But they were still hot. Setting down their backpacks, they stripped off their shirts, exposing their bare, sweaty upper torsos, and went into the kitchen together. Noticing a piece of paper stuck to the fridge with a magnet that hadn't been there that morning, Taylor grabbed it and called his brother's attention to it.

"It's a note from Mom and Dad," he said.

"What's it say?" asked Tyler, getting a bottle of Sunny Delight from the fridge. As he drank it, slowly leaning his head back, his throat bobbed and bulged and loud gulping sounds filled the kitchen.

"They won't be home until late," Taylor said, frowning.

After drinking more than half the Sunny D, Tyler finally came up for air, so to speak, the rim of the bottle making a popping sound as it separated from his thin lips. He licked the orange residue from them daintily with his tongue. "Great!" he exclaimed after a loud gasp of air. "That means we can stay up late!"

"Don't drink so fast," his brother admonished him. Although Tyler was the older one by a few moments, he rarely acted like it, forcing Taylor to be the more mature of the twins.

Grumbling, Tyler walked off, sipping from the bottle. Taylor watched him go. Although he loved staying up late as much as the next guy, he didn't like their dumb parents spending so much time away from home. If they weren't at business meetings, they were at some fancy restaurant or out shopping like lovesick teenagers. Blegh, he thought as he grabbed his own bottle of Sunny D from the fridge, it disgusted him the way they acted so lovey-dovey and "into" one another. It made him feel like he and Tyler didn't matter.

Oh well. While the parents were away, the kids will play. Taylor followed his brother into the living room. Along the way, he paused to glance at the thermostat. Dang. Even with the AC on full blast, the sun beating down on the roof made the house feel like an oven. Even listening to the air conditioner groaning, Taylor had the impression that the unit was struggling to cool the house. So it was that, after turning the air conditioning up quite a bit, figuring he'd just endure his parents' complaints about the electric bill later, Taylor wasn't surprised when he sauntered into the living room to find his brother undressing. The brown-haired twin paused mid drink of his Sunny D to watch the other boy slipping his shorts off. Tyler stood with his back to his brother, a back that glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, and as the baggy cargo shorts were slid down and off, the pert rear end clad in Superman underoos and long legs were gradually revealed to Taylor, who lowered the bottle from his lips, which he licked slowly as he admired the view. Tyler's sneakers and socks were already kicked haphazardly aside, and the red-haired boy was barefoot.

Of course, he'd seen his twin in this state of undress before. Had even seen him naked. And it wasn't like they'd never played around with one another when the grown-ups weren't around. But the heat, the smell of sweat and the cool air blowing from the ceiling vents over his own dripping bare upper torso all combined to make Taylor shiver and awaken something within him. Something hungry. Hungry for what was currently standing there with the Superman logo emblazoned across a lovely butt, tossing empty shorts aside. Taking another long, slow drink from his Sunny D, Taylor walked over, making a point of licking his lips again and smacking them loudly. At the sound, Tyler tensed and turned, his freckled face red and streaming sweat. He swallowed, watching as his brother set the plastic bottle aside and began taking his own shorts off. The front of his briefs bulged with his boyhood, the outline of his little penis twitching and stiffening as he watched his twin undressing.

"You wanna touch each other's weeners before we go play some games...?" Taylor asked as he kicked off his shoes and struggled out of his shorts at the same time, a feat he managed to pull off without losing his balance and falling over, his voice low and husky despite the fact the boys were alone in the house.

"Sure!" cried Tyler, and in an instant his hand was down the front of his brother's underwear. Taylor wore Batman-themed briefs in contrast to his own Superman ones. His nimble little fingers quickly found Taylor's little cock and began playing with it, coaxing it slowly to erection, as an excited, grinning Taylor returned the favor, shoving his own hand into his twin's underwear. Soft little moans of playful pleasure filled the otherwise quiet living room. It was playtime. A special kind of playtime the brothers kept secret from their parents.

Taylor bent slightly and rubbed noses with Tyler, pulling his hand free of the red-haired boy's briefs and looping his arms around him, pressing his crotch against Tyler's, enjoying the sensation of their stiff prepubescent pricks rubbing together through the thin layers of fabric. "Now that we're both in our undies and touching each other's weeners, what kinda stuff do you wanna get up to?"

Tyler blushed. His brother was the more experienced one. "I s-suppose we can just keep playing like this..." he suggested, then brightened visibly. "Maybe if you got your weenie all slicked up."

"Slicked up with what?" asked the brown-haired boy.

It was a genuine question. He of course had quite a few different means of lubing himself up for entry. And Tyler was right. He might require something to slick his member up if he intended on fucking his brother. And he very much intended to. To the hilt, if possible. But first he had a few other things he wanted to do to his twin.

He decided to assert himself. "Well, first we need to get you slicked up, bro," he said.

He gave Tyler a quick lick from his lips to the tip of his nose, and then turned, steering him towards the couch. As he did so, he had one hand on his shoulder, the other at the small of his back, though that hand couldn't resist gliding down over those buttocks as they moved. He slid one thumb into the waistband of the Batman undies. He restrained himself from just yanking them down. The thumb worked deeper and deeper into the underwear, followed by the entire hand.

With his hands pressed against the cushions to brace himself, Tyler bent over as he felt his pert rear end being groped. His heart was racing. Both boys were still a bit young to fully understand their own sexual needs, but Taylor was the more experienced one and his brother trusted him implicitly. He felt tingly in the best way. As Taylor's hand slipped down into his underpants and slid across his naked rump cheeks, a shiver ran up his spine, ending in a throaty little gasp that Taylor had to grin at, loving the way his brother was putty in his hands. Both of their cocks were now fully engorged and stiff, tenting their underwear noticeably. Taylor slowly pulled Tyler's Batman underwear down, exposing the full curve of his backside. Sweat trickled down the redhead's bare back and down into his crack. Taylor licked his lips slowly, feeling a hunger for that butt. It was suppertime.

He made a slow licking of his lips as he studied that pert rear, the briefs bunched up around Tyler's ankles. Tyler was overtaken by a giddy sense of anticipation. He gave his butt a playful wiggle. Taylor made a show of licking his lips as he knelt down behind his twin, directly in front of that lovely caboose. He grabbed ahold of those curvy, delectable cheeks in both hands. He started slow, gently parting them to reveal the depths of the crevice as he kissed and nuzzled along one asscheek, then the other, gently giving them a few licks. Then, as he fully parted the firm asscheeks, his lapping tongue slithered lower into the depths.

Tyler let out an appropriately boyish giggle which swiftly turned into a tender, youthful moan, a sound that drove Taylor wild. That tender moan was music to his ears. Tyler braced himself harder against the couch and bore his hips back ever so slightly. He plunged in between those lovely asscheeks, enjoying the way the buttocks felt so firm and toned in his grip as his hands held onto them and kept them spread apart so he could feast at his leisure. His lips brushed along the wrinkled rear entrance in a delicate kiss, and the other boy could also feel the feel his teeth sliding along the opening as he kissed it.

"Oh, jeez, Taylor..." groaned the redhead.

The brown-haired boy gave forth the gentlest of little groans, a sigh, really, as he kissed that sweet entrance, one of his favorite parts on another boy, especially his brother. Besides all of them, anyway. The kiss turned into a lick, Taylor's tongue slithering out to lick gently along the opening as he nosed further up into the red-haired boy's rectum, before plunging the wet muscle deep inside, kissing and licking over Tyler's puckered, sweaty anus and probing into it with his eager tongue.

This activity had not gone unnoticed by the monster watching the house. As the later afternoon slid into evening, Randall realized that if he was to make his move it would need to be soon. He knew the construction workers' schedule pretty well, but not the parents'. Although the workers were leaving, the boys' parents could return any time, and he didn't want any human adults around. Although he figured he could take them in a fight if he had to, it was a risk he was uncertain about taking, at least if he could avoid it. A cement truck trundled past, one of the last construction vehicles leaving the neighborhood as the workers knocked off for the night. With a slow growl and a flick of his tongue, Randall camouflaged himself and scurried across the road, barely avoiding being run over by a departing dump truck whose driver of course did not see him. Even as he was scurrying across the sod lawn leaning up to the front of his intended victims' house, behind which the sun was already beginning to set, the exhiliration and anticipation of what was to come was arousing him so that his twin purple cocks slid free of their protecting sheath to gently brush along the dewy grass along with his underbelly as he pressed himself down and low, a sensation that only heightened his excitement.

Breathing deeply through his nostrils, he quickly reached the living room window and peered inside. What he saw surprised him, to say the least. He'd expected the boys to already be upstairs, or, if they were in the living room, to be watching TV or perhaps playing video games. He didn't expect to find the red-haired one naked and bent over the couch, with the brown-haired one in nothing but his underwear and eating his brother's ass out. The monster's usually narrowed, squinty eyes widened in surprise as the brown-haired boy finished, licking his lips, and stood, sliding his underpants down and off, his little stiff cock popping up into view. Then the redhead turned and kneeled before his brother, licking along his dick, making a point of slobbering over it so it was positively dripping in spit.

At that, Randall's double cocks only became further engorged. He pressed himself against the glass, staring in bug-eyed amazement at what was happening right in front of him, with the brothers none the wiser that their playtime had an audience of one.

Tyler's head bobbed slowly along his brother's cock. After a moment, Taylor brushed his fingers through his twin's red hair, indicating to him that he was to stop. At that, Tyler stood and turned, preparing to be taken up the butt by his brother. Randall tensed at the window, amazed that he was actually witnessing these boys about to fuck right here and now. Precum oozed from his dual cocks. However, he was to be denied, at least for the moment, for although he was unaware that anyone was watching them, as it got dark outside, making it easier for people to see inside, the possibility of a pervert looking in at them made Taylor suddenly uneasy.

"Hold up a bit, bro," he said.

"Huh?" said Tyler, still bent over the couch.

He watched as Taylor went to the window, covering his nether regions with his hands and peered out. Due to the purple monster's camouflaging abilities, the boy had no idea he was eye to eye with his soon to be kidnapper and devourer. Randall's breath quickened having the boy, his intended prey, so close, and then he noticed that it was fogging the glass a little, so he held his breath while Taylor squinted through the glass, practically right through Randall, scanning the street for anyone. Randall was momentarily afraid that the scar on his head from where he'd been hit with the shovel would give him away, as the camouflaging scales there no longer functioned, leaving the scar as a ghostly gloating jagged bit of tissue, but fortunately Taylor noticed neither it nor the already fading fog on the glass from the eavesdropper's breath. Randall backed up slowly as Taylor moved away from the window, returning to his brother.

Giving Tyler's ass a smack, he said, "Come on. Let's go upstairs. Don't want any sickos looking in an' watching us give 'em a free show."

Smirking, both naked boys bolted from the living room and disappeared around a corner. Randall, having cased the house well in advance of tonight, knew they were likely heading for the stairs. He promptly scurried up the side of the house and onto the roof, remaining camouflaged even though it was unlikely anyone would notice his dark purple color in the gathering darkness of late evening. He didn't want to take any chances. Loving the way his throbbing cocks felt bumping against the roof tiles, hissing and doing his best to hold back the urge to masturbate right there atop the house, the reptilian monster crested the roof and went down to the side facing the backyard. Here, he knew, was the bedroom the boys shared. Here, he figured, they would perform for him before he finally broke in and took them. And as he slowly lowered his head over the edge of the gutter to peer in through the window upside-down, he wasn't disappointed; the two naked boys were already in one of the twin beds, Tyler on his stomach and Taylor atop him, ready for an evening of fun they had no idea was going to end in pain and terror.

Taylor and Tyler's bedroom was typical of boys their age. Rock band and sports car posters on the wall. Shelves crammed to overflowing with books and toys. A TV with a video game system. And various items - dirty clothes and junk - on the floor despite their parents' repeated pleas for them to pick up after themselves. The TV was currently on, Tyler having forgotten to turn it off after an early morning game session before school that day, casting the otherwise darkened bedroom in a cool, bluish white light that made the boys feel as if it were cooler in their room than in the somewhat stuffy hallway, the air conditioning taking a little longer to cool off upstairs than down. Tyler entered first and didn't bother turning on the light. Enjoying the feeling of his brother's drying saliva slathered between his ass cheeks, he went immediately to the closest bed; the brothers had separate beds, twin size, but often opted to share one, especially during their more intimate moments, such as now.

Taylor entered after him and also didn't bother turning the light on. The glow from the TV was enough. He shut the door despite the fact they were home alone, just in case their parents got back early. He stood there, stiff little cock still dripping in Tyler's spit, which made him shiver a little, as he watched his fraternal twin position himself on the bed on all fours, rear end facing towards him, presenting himself to Taylor as though he were some kind of horny animal in heat. It was a great view and Tyler showed his appreciation with a wide grin and a cheesy thumbs up, followed by him running and leaping onto the mattress and once more positioning himself behind his brother, this time without the danger of prying eyes... or so he thought.

Even as he prepared to enter Tyler, the upside-down Randall reached down (up?) with both of his upper arms, bracing one hand against the outside sill, and using the other to try and wrench his bulbous fingers underneath the closed window, praying it wasn't locked. He would shatter the glass if he had to, but would prefer to avoid it; it risked the boys freaking out and running, and he was in no mood to chase them. Double strands of precum dribbled down from above, from his twin cocks dangling down. He grunted and managed to wedge his fingers under the window. Aha! It wasn't locked after all. His heart thudded in his chest and his cocks throbbed in excitement as he slowly began to ease the window up and open, confident that the brothers wouldn't notice the gradual opening of the window as they "busied" themselves on the bed across the room.

Indeed, neither boy noticed as the window gradually slid open. Taylor spread Tyler's buttcheeks apart and spat a thick glob of saliva onto his anus just to ensure he was good and lubed, then, positioning himself behind him, he entered his twin, his small but stiff penis penetrating the red-haired boy's tight rectum, earning a groan from both of them. Tyler hung his head down low, sweat dripping slowly from his perspiring face. Taylor, beads of sweat standing out on not just his own face but on his upper torso, began to rock his hips, well practiced in the art of fucking his brother. Each thrust made Tyler jerk forward, his little cock flying up and slapping his stomach. Time seemed to slow and the minutes crawled by. Suddenly, right as Taylor was about to climax into his twin's ass, he felt a cool breeze across his sweaty body. It felt good but it also startled him. He jerked up in surprise, glancing around. He stopped thrusting and stared at the window, which was halfway open.

"What is it?" asked an annoyed Tyler, panting. "Why'd you stop?"

"The window's open..."

"So what?"

Without replying, Taylor pulled out of his irritated twin with a grunt and walked to the window. Something, he wasn't sure what, for he saw nothing, seemed to stealthily whoosh past him. He froze. Hesitantly, he went to the window. It was indeed open, and there was something warm and sticky on the outside sill. He stuck a finger in it. It was... cum? Behind him, he heard Tyler's moans of needy impatience.

"Come on, bro!" Tyler said. "Maybe you just opened it this morning and forgot!"

Taylor was positive he hadn't. And the slimy substance he was currently squishing between his thumb and forefinger troubled him. As did... whatever it was that had moved past him unseen. He sweated anew, but not it was a cold sweat. He was nervous.

"It bugs me is all..." He frowned. "And something... well... I felt like something moved past me in the dark. But I d-didn't see anything."

Standing nearby, Randall tensed. He'd opened the window only enough for him to slip him. He hadn't counted on the boy noticing so soon. He frowned, cursing himself for having moved so close to him that the displaced air brushed over the brown-haired boy's naked form. But it was either that or remained where he stood and let the boy bump into him. He weighed his options. As much as he wanted to watch the show the boys didn't know they were putting on for him, the brown-haired one's suspicious nature was irritating him and making him uneasy. He didn't like feeling uneasy. He liked feel confident. He slowly began edging over towards his victims, ready to strike suddenly if need be.

"Oooohhhh," said the redhead, mockingly. "Maybe it was a g-g-g-ghoooost. Or the Invisible Man!"

So saying, he grabbed a well-worn paperback copy of the H.G. Wells novel and flung it playfully at Taylor. It whizzed past his head and landed at Randall's feet. The purple monster glanced down. The Invisible Man, huh? Might be interesting reading. He almost bent down and picked it up, but stopped himself, lest the boys get spooked by a floating book.

Taylor shut the window and returned to the bed, trying his best to convince himself that Tyler was right.

"Come on, come on," begged the other boy, wiggling his rear. "Finish up, then I can do you!"

"All right, all right," grumbled Taylor, and got into position again. Though his heart wasn't in it as he resumed fucking Tyler, and the other boy was quick to complain about his brother's lack of enthusiasm. Loudly. Taylor just sighed and kept at it, feeling his climax nearing from the physical sensation of pounding Tyler's butt building within him, regardless of how he felt. The mystery of the window had killed his mood, but he was going to cum anyway. Tyler, for his part, was growing more and more irritated that his brother wasn't fucking him hard enough.

The fact the mood was ruined was not lost on Randall, who decided now was the time to attack. He hissed softly and crept forward. The first either boy knew something was wrong was when a pleasant, hot, wet sensation slid its way up between Taylor's ass cheeks and up his bare back - Randall was licking him. The boy froze and whimpered. Then suddenly he felt his arms seized by invisible hands and hot breath washing over his neck. A mouth was close to the side of his face. Tyler was about to start complaining again when he too felt the unmistakble sensation of being grabbed and held by a second pair of unseen hands. Both boys wriggled, but the grip was strong. Taylor grunted as he felt a weight against his back. Something with scaly, reptilian skin was behind him and leaning over him. And something else, two somethings, was poking at his asshole.

The mouth at the side of his face spoke. "Hello, boys," it said.

"Aaahhh!" yelped Tyler. "It really is the Invisible Man!"

The unseen chuckled. "Something like that. Just consider me your new best friend, you two little cuties. That was quite a little show you put on for me. I've been watching you since you were downstairs." There was a soft hiss and a groan and Taylor felt the two somethings, which were exceptionally bulbous and rigid, pushing more insistently at his backside.

Taylor managed to find his voice after a few moments of opening his closing his mouth like a fish. "Wh-What do you want with us...?" He knew. Deep down he knew. But he wanted to hear the thing say it. Then the terror would begin. He shook uncontrollably.

"Why, to join in on the fun!" said the voice. Something hot and slimy slid along Taylor's cheek. A tongue, he realized. "To play a little game with you. There's just one rule." The voice, until now somewhat pleasant and playful if a little threatening, suddenly became hard, harsh and brittle. "Do whatever I say... or suffer the consequences. Obey me, boys, and I promise you it won't hurt nearly as much as it will if you disobey."

Tyler began to cry. The invisible hands tightened their grip against him.

"All riiiiiight," said the voice, mockingly bright and cheerful again, and the hands suddenly relinquished their holds on the boys, and they felt the unseen presence moving back. "Let's get this party started."

Taylor and Tyler, freed, turned around, the former extracting himself from the latter's asshole, and stared openmouthed as something shimmered in the gloom of the dimly-lit bedroom, and a creature took shape. Not very big, but definitely bigger than them, a long, snakelike purple reptile with bulging eyes, frond-like protrustions on the top of his head, a wide, grinning mouth filled with what looked like hundreds of sharp teeth, and, as he reared up, they beheld not only that he had two sets of arms and two sets of legs, but also, to the boys' increasing unease, two penises; two very large cocks stuck out from somewhere below and between the creature's front set of legs, a dark bluish purple in contrast to the lighter purple of his scales. He gave a hissing chuckle, a slimy forked tongue licking over his lips as his lower hands reaching down to grab and squeeze both cocks.

"My name's Randall," he said. "Some call me Randy," he added, his eyes narrowing, his voice taking on a darker, more menacing tone again, as though he were dredging up unpleasant memories. "But yoooooou," he said, his voice becoming softer, but losing none of its threatening menace, eyes widening again, "can - will - call me Master. 'Cause that's what I am from now until I don't need the two of you little brats anymore. Master. Got it?"

The boys simply sat there, naked and shivering, still processing things as the unbelievable unreality of the situation washed over them like a noxious wave of horrifying anxiety. Tyler sniffled, still crying. Taylor swallowed nervously.

"Got it?!" Randall barked like a drill sergeant.

The boys jumped and nodded. "Yes!" cried Tyler through his sniffling. Snot was dribbling from his nose now as he wept openly.

"Yes..." added his brother.

"Yes what...?" demanded their captor, his eyes narrowing again. His smile faded.

"Yes Master!" both boys managed to blurt out at the same time.

Randall's cheerful demeanor returned again, as thought a switch had been flicked. "Stupendous!" he exclaimed, rubbing his upper hands together with giddy glee, though his eyes remained narrowed. "Now, I'm going to take you two away from here," he began, and at this Tyler only sobbed harder, Taylor hugging him close protectively, "but before I do, I think we should have a little fun to get to know one another better. Roll over on your tummies." He clapped both sets of hands like a dancing instructor. "Let's go! Chop-chop!"

The boys looked at one another, then obeyed, both rolling over onto their stomachs on the bed, bare butts facing Randall. He made a deep, gutteral sound to show his immense appreciation. "Good, gooooood," he said, practically drooling. "Now reach back and pull those cute little butt cheeks apart. I wanna see your assholes."

The boys complied. Taylor was busy wracking his brain trying to think of a means for him and his brother to escape, while Tyler just continued whining uselessly, burying his face into the covers as he bawled, but both twins reached back, grabbed a handful of their butts, and pulled, the cheeks parting, revealing to Randall the object of his desire, their puckered little anuses.

"Splendid," the monster said. They heard him approaching slowly and getting up onto the bed. "Now get ready, boys, I'm gonna take you both for a little ride. At the same time."

At that, the boys become even more worried, but didn't dare trying to escape. Yet. Randall clambered up onto the bed behind them, his weight making the mattress wobble a little. He was practically drooling at the sight of those delicious boy-holes, and although he preferred them virginal, which these two most certainly weren't based on what he'd seen, hunting hadn't been as good for him lately, and with the loss of his last captive in the bog a few days earlier, the former top contender for scare champion of the year at Monsters, Inc. decided he'd have to take what he could get. He'd learned the hard way that despite his ambitious nature, beggars couldn't be choosers.

At the thought of his old job, he threw a suspicious glance at the closet door, which was ajar and had a pair of underwear hanging off the doorknob. What rotten luck it'd be if one of his former co-workers came in right now to try and amuse the boys with jokes. Laugh power. What a joke. He rolled his eyes at the thought, decided that he could handle anyone short of that sentimental overachiever Sullivan, and returned to his task, putting the closet out of his mind. Bracing himself against the mattress with all four legs, he seized Taylor and Tyler by the necks with his upper pair of hands to ensure they wouldn't squirm away, though he was confident they'd obey him for the time being, he used his lower hands to grab his dual dicks, one in each hand, and spread them apart, and began guiding them towards their quivering puckered targets. Those dual bluish purple phalluses had incredibly bulbous, fat, engorged heads, and along both the top of the shafts as well as the undersides were short, spike-like fleshy knobs which would enhance the boys' pleasure when he finally entered them; his one gift to them on this, the last night of their lives.

The fact neither boy would live to see the sunrise filled Randall with an icy pleasure that sent uncontrollable shudders up his spine, making the fronds on the top of his head twitch and his cocks swell in his hands even further, oozing more thick, globby pre from the tips. The thought of the eventual outcome of tonight's adventure, of what he had planned for these two and where they'd end up, was almost more than Randall could bear. In a way, he enjoyed the thought of it more than the act. Drawing it out was going to be almost as delicious as the boys themselves. But back to the task at hand, he reminded himself; making these two boys his very own and teaching them why they'd call him Master for the remainder of their short lives.

With his cocks sufficiently spread apart and guided towards those puckered rear openings, Randall was able to enter both of the twins at the same time. He had some difficulty at first due to the sheer size of his twin cockheads; Randall's dicks were thicker and heavier at the front than at the base, the shaft becoming somewhat thinner as it went down to meet his groin. This made it paradoxically more difficult and more fun to forcibly push himself into the assholes of young boys. Taylor and Tyler moaned and cried, their assholes clenching up as though determined to deny their captor entry, but Randall Boggs would not be denied. Not tonight. With a grunt, he pushed down on the boys' necks, forcing their faces into the covers to stifle their cries and control their wiggling, and, using his now free lower hands to grab their hips - Taylor's right and Tyler's left - he pushed with all his might, tongue doing a slow circuit of his chops as he bucked forward and pushed and pushed... until with an audible, lewd "pop," the enormous cockheads battered their way into the two boys, first one, then the other. Muffled screams came from where Taylor and Tyler's faces were being smushed into the covers, and, grinning, Randall let them up so they wouldn't suffocate. Their pitiful mewling and whimpering was driving him wild.

He groaned aloud at the sensation of plunging his twin members into them. Although neither boy was a virgin, they'd only ever fucked each other, and their tiny little cocks couldn't hope to compare to the beastly phalluses now sinking into them. "Thaaaaat's it, boys," Randall hissed through gritted teeth, leaning his head back, "take 'em. Take 'em deeeep. And stop that pitiful whining," he added, looking back down at them with amused disdain. "I'm gonna make men outta the two of you tonight, and men don't cry. Only little sissy boys. And you don't wanna be sissies, do you...?"

The only answer he got was more whining, and some mumbled words from one of them - Taylor? - that may have been pleas for mercy and gentleness. Randall ignored these and bucked his front legs' hips forward a second time, keeping his rear feet braced firmly against the footboard of the bed, his tail lashing back and forth in a frenzy behind him as his cocks sank into those soon to be well-used assholes bit by bit. As he'd hoped, the boys' tune changed once they felt the first of the spikelike, fleshy nubs; they still cried and moaned in terror at their predicament, but interspersed with those noises were a few whimpers and groans of pleasure, which only increased the deeper the dicks went in, and the more spikes were added to stimulate their insides. Sometimes Randall didn't know what he liked more; a boy in pain and fear, or a boy in pleasure. It didn't matter, of course, since he was getting both tonight.

Once he was hilted inside them completely, the real fucking began in earnest. "Hold on tight, boys. We're goin' for a ride."

The force with which the slinky purple monster hit them was like nothing they'd ever experienced. For as deceptively thin and fragile-looking as Randall Boggs was, he posessed immense physical strength in his long, slender body, mostly due to the fact that, arms and legs aside, he was essentially built like a boa constrictor, and was all muscle to a degree. Thus with each flex of his pelvic region, Randall thrust his thick purple docks into the twins' by now very abused assholes, Taylor and Tyler were practically thrown forwards. It was a wonder they didn't go flying off of their captor's cocks and smack into the headboard. Randall was making it look easy, too; for as he held the boys down with his lower hands, he simply crossed his upper arms across his chest and smirked down at his two playmates smugly, as though he wasn't even trying to exert the power and ferocity they were experiencing. His bulbous eyes closed and rolled back in their sockets behind his eyelids. This felt great! And it was just the beginning. As soon as he got them good and subdued and taken out to the swamp, the real fun would begin. This thought almost drove him over the edge, and indeed his cocks spurted some thick precum into the boys' asses.

Mid-fuck, Taylor, cheeks red and eyes puffy from crying, managed to turn partially onto his back and look up at the monster through tear-filled eyes. Fearing an escape attempt, Randall's eyes flashed open and he moved with lightning quickess, uncrossing his upper arms and grabbing ahold of the boy's head in his right hand. But Taylor wasn't attempting to escape, for upon being grabbed, he didn't struggle. Instead, his lips trembled violently and he began trying to speak. Boredly, Randall decided to hear what he had to say.

"Why?!" screamed the boy. "Why are you doing this?!"

Randall grinned his sharklike grin again, leaned down and, flicking his forked tongue right in the boy's terrified face, said, "Because I want to! Because I like it! Because cute little boys like you in pain and misery at my hands is the greatest joy of all! Now roll back over and take what I give you, you little shit!"

Tightening his grip on Taylor's head, he pushed him back around to lie face-down alongside his sobbing brother. The monster laughed. This was delicious. The boys' terror was almost enough to make him consider letting them go so they could be traumatized and live in fear of him returning for the rest of their lives, even into adulthood. But no. Not these two. Some other boy or boys perhaps, but not Taylor and Tyler. They were his. And he was going to claim them completely. His stomach growled. Easy, easy, he told it, calm down. You'll soon have your filled. Double helpings. This last assurance was made from looking down at the two boys' writhing sweaty bodies. Yes. A double course in the swamp tonight. This thought pleased him even more than the thought of leaving them alive and in fear, and he could feel his orgasm building. Very soon now.

It was like an electrical current ran up through Randall's body from the tip of his tail to the dual bases of his cocks. He shuddered, leaning his head back, mouth open wide, tongue lolling obscenely, eyes bulging towards the ceiling, emitting a sound that was somehow both snarl and hiss as his climax hit. It was doubly pleasurable due to his twin cocks. He forced himself into the boys' assholes all the way to the bases of his cocks and kept bucking fiercely as he came, dumping his hot, thick monster cum into their thoroughly abused rear ends. For their part, the boys could only groan and wriggle as they felt the flood of hot, sticky fluid being pumped into their bowels. They grabbed fistfuls of blanket and hissed through clenched teeth as they fought against the shameful carnal pleasure that overcame them as they were claimed fully by their monstrous Master, but couldn't fight the physical sensations of their bodies; both little boy cocks twitch, spasmed and shot their meager loads to be smeared into the covers by the squirming bodies of the two boys. Randall gasped and kept cumming, so much so that Taylor and Tyler's bellies began to expand slightly, and for a brief instant the two were terrified that their Master would just keep on flooding them with his potent seed until they swelled up and popped like two overfilled water balloons.

Fortunately for the brothers, even Randall didn't have that much to give, and soon his flow tapered off to a trickle, then a few splurts, and finally stopped altogether, though he continued to shudder and thrust for a good several minutes afterwards. Slowly, he lowered his head to look down at his newly acquired boys. In between a few pants and gasps for breath, he said, "That was amazing. The best orgasm I've had in a long time. You two are very lucky to have my seed inside you." So saying, he grunted and wriggled himself backwards, extracting his dicks with two lewd "plops." The boys' assholes gaped for a few moments, oozing monster cum, but slowly closed up again, though their puckered openings remained red and angry from how hard their Master had fucked them.

He slid off the bed. The boys, granted a momentary reprieve, looked at one another. Terror and desperation was in their eyes. Trickles of sweat dribbled down their naked bodies, their faces red, hair plastered to their foreheads. And they stank of sex. They tried to move but everything hurt. Not just their assholes, but their entire bodies, so hard and brutal had Randall been with them. Escape wasn't going to happen, not with them too tired to move. They couldn't even roll over onto their backs. It seemed like a long time before they heard or saw anything of Randall. They first became aware of his prescence one again when he returned from a trip to the garage, dropping several items on the bed; a large laundry sack, a roll of heavy duty duct take, a length of coarse rope and a jump rope. Working quickly, eager to be away from the house before the parents returned, Randall set about preparing his playthings for the journey to their final destination. Duct tape was used to gag them, plastered over their mouths. Then they were hogtied. The regular rope was used on Taylor; Randall, unable to find any more rope of suitable length, was forced to use the jump rope to bind Tyler. That accomplished, Randall grabbed handfuls of their hair and jerked both boys painfully to the feet; using his other set of hands, he opened up the laundry bag. It gaped before the boys like eternity.

"Now, let's get you two all bundled up..."

So saying, he manhandled the squirming boys into the sack as they issued forth muffled cries and moans. Once both of them were inside, he tied the top tightly. Grinning, he slung the back over his shoulder using his upper hands, and, looking like some nightmarish Santa Claus who came to take rather than to give - Krampus crossed his mind, making him chuckle - he made for the window. Along the way, he paused to grab the paperback of The Invisible Man with one of his free, lower hands, using the other to force open the window. He leaped through, not bothering to close it. Landing gracefully despite the bulk of his load, he quickly made his way out of the backyard through a side gate and hurried across the road. He didn't care if he was seen; most people wouldn't even know what they were seeing, and also wouldn't even begin to guess what was inside the sack he was lugging. He scrambled across the street and into the lot next door, through the weeds towards the treeline, and he was soon home free under the forest canopy. Breathing a sigh of relief, he cast one final glance back at the house he'd abducted the boys from, and then leisurely sauntered along through the woods, which gradually gave in to the almost primordial swamp he'd been calling home.

The boys would never be found.

~*~

Taylor slowly swamp back to consciousness. The first thing he was aware of was a nearby grunting and moaning and the sounds of slimy squishing. Next came awareness of the fact he was in a most uncomfortable position. As his eyelids fluttered open, he found himself half standing with his back against a rotten tree somewhere deep in the swamp. His arms were pulled back and behind him by rope which held him bound to the tree. The duct tape had been removed from his mouth. He was still naked. Directly in front of him, in the light of a few lamps with extension cords leading to a generator, Randall Boggs was violating his brother once more. An also naked Tyler was face down in the mud and muck, thrashing weakly, which accounted for the squelching and squishing noises Taylor had heard. The monster was atop him, grunting, holding on to him with all four hands, and it looked to Taylor like their captor had both of his dicks inside his brother's asshole. Randall briefly glanced up from his task, noticed Taylor was awaken, grinned, and then returned to focusing on Tyler. It was evident he meant for him to watch his brother get raped again.

They were in a sort of clearing, a campsite of sorts that Randall had thrown together. There was a ratty tent, a cot with the monster's purloined copy of The Invisible Man lying on it, a generator providing electricity for two lamps - one an articulated desk lamp and the other a dirty old-fashioned lamp with an even dirtier shade - and a gas-lit Coleman lantern sitting beside the remains of a campfire with a big pot suspended over it. All the comforts of home. And in the middle of it all, the campsite's occupant busy stuffing both of his hideous members into the already thoroughly abused rear end of one of the boy's he'd abducted. Tyler could barely fight back. He could do little else but flop around and weakly slap his hands and arms against the muddy ground. He took everything his Master gave him.

Taylor was tied to a tree at the edge of the little campsite. Sweating, he struggled, desperate to get free and help his brother if he could... and escape without him if he must. He'd fallen unconscious during the journey, and although that wasn't the same as sleep, rest was rest, and he was certain he'd recuperated enough strength to get free if he had to. The rope holding him to the tree wasn't as strong as it had seemed at first; it was old and frayed and already Taylor could feel it stretching and tearing. He'd be free in an instant. His desire for freedom increased when Randall, obviously experiencing another mind-blowing orgasm, grabbed the back of Tyler's head and forced him down face-first into the mud and muck. The brown liquid around his partially submerged head bubbled and burbled. Panic filled Taylor's mind as he watched his brother drown.

As the monster came, the force of two cocks pumping their huge loads into Tyler was obviously too much for one boy's asshole to handle. As Taylor watched, his vantage point allowing him to witness the anal penetration in great detail in the light of the lantern despite the distance, his brother moaned muffledly into the mud, causing more bubbles to burble up around his head as he drowned in the slimy foulness, and then, as Randall leaned back, tongue darting in and out of his maw, the pressure was too much and thick gouts of monster cum splurted out of Tyler's obscenely stretched asshole, drenching his buttocks and Randall's legs and belly. As before, the monster, their Master, kept pumping, grunting, looking down, frowning as he tried his best to keep the spurting pressure from forcing his cocks free, wanting to keep as much of them and his cum inside of his slave as possible.

Soon, his thrusting slowed and so did the spurts. With a sigh, Randall closed his eyes in vile pleasure at having violated the young boy with both dicks at once. "Ahhhh," he exclaimed, keeping Tyler's face smushed down into the mud. "Now that's what I call a double penetration, eh, kiddo?"

Then, suddenly, Randall let him up. His cocks popped free of the boy's asshole again and he stepped back, laughing as Tyler pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, spluttering and coughing up a mouthful of disgusting mud, Randall's excessive amounts of cum oozing and dribbling from his gaping anus even as it slowly sealed up again like before. Randall was impressed with how tight boys were at this age. No matter how much you fucked them, their assholes always returned to normal size. A shame he didn't have time to properly break this one in. His brother perhaps, if he behave himself, but not him. His tummy was grumbling to insistently.

Taylor relaxed. He was about to resume trying to get free when something happened that froze him in place in utter disbelief. Reaching down with his lower pair of hands, Randall grabbed his brother's ankles, yanking his legs up, causing the boy to splut face-first into the mud again... and then he gaped his jaws wide, wider, wider still... and shoved the wriggling feet into his mouth!

As the feet slid into his mouth, Randall licked over their soles, the tines of the forked tip of his tongue licking between each individual toe, the monster issuing forth a moan of ecstatic delight, as though he were tasting some kind of expensive dessert delicacy at a high-class restaurant. It took Tyler a moment to realize what was happening. He'd been used up so thoroughly by his captor that his mind swam dizzily and be barely registered the wet, slobbery feeling on his feet, and the heat that poured forth over them as they were shoved deeper into Randall's mouth... and into the waiting throat. It was only with dull, stupid curiosity that the boy finally turned his head to see what in the world his Master was doing... and upon beholding his legs going into that fang-filled maw, he burst into fresh tears and loosed a piercing shriek that seemed to carry forever across the dismal swamp, echoing away into eternity. Randall seemed annoyed by the scream, but did nothing except grab the bare legs and begin cramming them further into his maw.

Tyler's scream shocked Taylor back to his senses. He struggled anew against the ropes, desperate to save his brother... or to escape if Tyler was beyond help once he got free. He also found his voice after opening and closing his mouth wordlessly like a gawking fish stranded on land. "No!" he wailed. "No, no, nooooo!"

He watched in horrified fascination as Randall bent his body down slightly, eating his way down the legs of his prisoner and sex slave turned meal. Tyler's heels made odd bulges in the back of his longish neck before vanishing past his scrawny shoulders; his knees, when he got to them, did the same for the front of his throat, stretching the scaly skin there so thin and tight that Tayloe could see every detail. This was only after they'd been thoroughly licked over and coated in monstrous drool. And once Tyler's knees were in his devourer's throat, his well-lubricated thighs following, this soon brought his pert buttocks and underage genitals into the maw. The watching Taylor was surprised by the gentleness with which Randall was eating his brother. Despite all those sharp teeth, he hadn't so much as grazed the red-haired boy's skin. He was swallowing him whole, the way Taylor had seen some snakes eat eggs in nature documentaries. Whole and alive, he realized with horror. Randall was only being gentle as a means to a horrifying end; he intended for Tyler to end up alive and aware in his stomach! Taylor almost threw up in his mouth at the thought.

Tyler, for his part, had managed to work up the gumption to start struggling, though far too late to slip free of the monstrous maw sucking him in like he was nothing but a delicious snack. He flailed, clawing at the ground for anything to grab ahold of in order to halt his inward progress, but there was nothing, and his fingers only left long grooves in the thick swampy muck. And then, once his lower half was entire inside of Randall, his legs encased in what felt like a tight, hot, wet tube, and his little cock and cute butt were being cradled in that sharp-toothed maw, Randall, annoyed by the boy's struggling, made a calculated move that he was certain would turn his slave from an unwilling meal into a willing one. First, he licked all the cum off of Tyler's perfect boy ass, and then gave the underside of his balls and taint a little teasing lick. Tyler froze and shuddered, his cock stiffening. Randall grinned around his considerable mouthful... and then started licking at the boy's tortured asshole, using his tongue to clean the puffy red pucker of leaking cum before plunging the entire thing up and into that anal opening, making Tyler, by now being lifted off of the ground and dangling upside-down from Randall's mouth, held in place by all four hands, arch his back and moan.

Taylor watched as his brother turned into their captor's willing slut mid-devouring, the other boy thrusting his hips against the inside of that toothy maw, eager to cum one last time. It was clear to Taylor that even though the concept of death was new to him, on some level Tyler knew this was it, the end, and this was his final chance for a good mind-blowing orgasm. Something it seemed Randall, in uncharacteristic mercy, was willing to grant him, so long as Tyler pleased him a final time first. Holding on to Tyler's middle with his upper hands, his lower ones released their hold under the boy's armpits, and the redhead swung down, his face smacking against the monster's belly with a muffled hump. The twin cocks, still hard and oozing pre, were thrust up against his confused face, his eyes glazed over with pleasure. Without thinking, he opened up, and slurped the left one into his mouth and began sucking on it, bobbing his head in time to his Master's thrusts, the right cock sliding up and down along the right side of Tyler's face, leaving hot, sticky trails of precum. Randall was going to have the boy filled with cream from both ends before he finished devouring him.

Tayler renewed his struggles. Then, finally! The frayed old ropes gave with an audible snap. The tree he'd been tied to issued forth a muffled crack of its own and tilted forward slightly, so hollowed out and rotten had it been. So sudden had Taylor's jolt forwards been that he stumbled forward, arms pinwheeling, trailing the now snapped ropes, cock bobbing and flopping this way and that, and his bare feet squished and splatted on the muddy ground dotted with intermittent pools of scummy water. He staggered uncontrollably right towards the monster devouring his brother, helpless to stop himself.

For a brief instant, Randall seemed unaware that his other captive had freed himself, and continued his cruel teasing of the boy halfway down his throat. The forked tongue, finished with the asshole and buttocks, slid over the taint to tease along the small balls once more, eager to coax an orgasm from the redhead. His hatred of humanity notwithstanding, the purple monster enjoyed it when what little pleasure his victims experienced came from him and him alone. Besides, he liked the taste of boy cum, and wanted Tyler to add some more flavoring to the already glorious taste of his sweaty, mud-splattered body.

In his mind's eye, Tayler saw that he'd crash into Randall and knock him down, then grab Tyler's arms and pull his twin free of that ravenous maw, and then they'd escape from this waking nightmare. But as he was about to wildly crash into and disrupt the ongoing feast, Randall's eyes flicked upward, almost imperceptibly. Seeing the naked form seconds away from colliding with him, had the briefest instance of surprise, before recovering. Steadying himself with his rear legs and his left front one, he lifted his right front leg and planted it firmly against Taylor's groin, his sole pressing hard into his little cock and balls. Then his right lower hand, no longer needing to hold on to the dangling, partially devoured Tyler, shot out. It grabbed the boy's face. This actually kept him standing, for the force with which Randall planted his foot into his groin would've surely knocked him backwards. The hand covered his face almost entirely, clenching tightly; so tightly in fact that Taylor was briefly afraid his skull would be crushed. But it wasn't to be. For one, Randall wasn't that strong. Maybe with his tail, but not his hands. And for another, he had a different disciplinary action in mind for his disobedient slave. A rather more blunt one.

His left lower hand balled itself into a fist and flew forwards, sinking into Taylor's flat belly. All the wind was knocked out of him by the blow. The hand around his head released him, and the foot at his crotch gave a most unnecessary little shove, and, wheezing, the brown-haired boy staggered back a foot or two, doubling over, then slid on the slick and slimy ground and lay splayed and dry-heaving on his back where he belonged, at his Master's feet. Randall then planted his foot on the boy's thigh, and, satisfied that he'd dispensed punishment, resumed his feast.

He kept bucking with upward motions, not only thrusting the one cock in and out of Tyler's mouth and the other along the side of his face, which was no slicked with pre, including a large amount of it in his red hair, but also, as a horrified Taylor realized while slowly recovering from Randall's punch, the monster's thrusting had another purpose. One far for deadly for his brother. For as he thrust up, he pushed down with his head, his serpentine body bending, the outline of Tyler's legs becoming more pronounced, doubling in on himself, swallowing the boy past the waistline in one gulp, his buttocks making their own well-defined outline in the stretched scaly skin of his hungry Master. Tayler realized that Randall wasn't merely fucking his brother up... but up and in! Into himself! He was fucking Tyler down his throat! And looking right down at him as he did it! Looking him right in the eyes! He would've screamed if he wasn't struggling to catch his breath. He settled for a croaking little gasp of horror.

The act of being swallowed further coupled with that skilled forked tongue sliding along his balls and then along his underage cock to tease and play sent Tyler over the edge. With a muffled moan around Randall's cock, he came for what would surely be the final time, adding his sticky load to the mixture of flavors his Master was experiencing. It drove Randall wild, and increased his hunger. He ate faster. Thrust his cocks against the boy faster. Slobber rained down in thick droplets and globs to splatter onto the prone Taylor lying beneath. The stretchy mouth inched further and down the upside down torso, which by now dribbled with a heady mixture of the boy's sweat, the slimy swamp muck and much and the monster's drool. The further into Randall's body he went, the more and more of Randall's cock slid free of his mouth, denying the monster of his fully cream-filled snack. It didn't matter. Randall was close, another orgasm building.

By this point, Tyler's mind cleared a little, and, in up to his chest, he realized what was happening, and, finding his voice, spat Randall's cock out and screamed horribly. Right at that instant, Randall closed his eyes and felt his body wracked by his third orgasm of the night. His twin cocks shuddered and shot forth their dual loads, hosing down Tyler's startled and terrified, teary-eyed face good and proper, adding that sticky substance to dribble in rivulets and glops down onto the watching Taylor.

"Noooo!" he yelled, his face framed on either side by the monstrous cocks. His arms reached down for Taylor, fingers crooked, clawing at the air, groping desperately. "Bro! Help me! He's gonna eat me!"

"T-Tyler..." Taylor croaked, reaching up with one hand feebly. His fingers trembled, inches from his brother's.

Randall observed this through slitted eyes and did nothing to stop it. If anything, it amused him. Right as Taylor managed to sit himself up a bit, propping himself on one elbow, and his and Tyler's fingertips touched, their monstrous Master jerked himself up, throwing his head back. With a gutteral shriek that stopped abruptly as the act forced all the air out of his lungs, Tyler's naked form was flung up, flinging ropes of Randall's cum in all directions, and for a brief instant Taylor saw his brother's sweating, squirming form silhouetted against the cloudy, starlit sky, underlit by the lamps of the campsite, and then Randall opened wide and lunged upwards, and in one great swallow took the redhead in to the armpits, and lowered his head down again so Taylor could see his brother's face framed behind those sharp teeth, arms bent out and forwards as an uncomfortable angle, the forked tongue licking along his face, lapping up the cum, lapping up the tears.

"Help me..." Tyler's barely audible voice pleaded. Then the teeth came down, gently closing on the boy's outstretched arms; not enough to cut and draw blood, but enough to elicit a whimper of pain from him, and then the lips closed over them, sealing Tyler entirely from Taylor's view. The lips couldn't close entirely due to the arms, and Taylor was able to see the lamplight glinting briefly off of his twin's terrified eyes for the briefest of instances.

"Mmmmm!" Randall intoned, then threw back his head again. There was a muffled little wail and then a bulge appeared in his throat. A bulge shaped like a little boy's head. In fact, all down the top half of his snakelike body, there was the unmistakable outline of a young boy. Nearly every detail could be made out, from Tyler's terrified expression to his chest to his belly button and, Taylor noted with a shameful blush, his still very erect little cock. This outline of a boy inched down slowly as Randall kept lunging his head up towards the sky, opening and closing his jaws to slurp the arms in. Soon, only Tyler's hands remained outside, hanging limply, the fingers wiggling weakly.

"Nooo..." whined Taylor.

Randall lowered his head a final time and grinned at the brown-haired boy around those wriggling fingers poking free of his mouth... and then with a quick swipe of his tongue snapped them up. He closed his mouth completely and swallowed, sending the last of the boy down his throat. The squirming outline moved down, past what could be considered Randall's "upper belly" and beneath the bases of his cocks, to vanish into an indiscernable lumpy bulge filling out the belly area of the monster's lower half, between the two sets of legs. This lump wriggled nonstop, and from time to time, muffled, whimpery moans came from it. Randall belched and sighed.

"Ahhhhh..." he said, then looked down at Taylor. "One down. One to go. But I'm gonna have some fun with you first, just like I did with your brother."

Whimpering, Taylor wriggled, trying to get out from under that deceptively strong foot. Somehow, he managed. That, or Randall let him. Tears streaming down his cheeks, reduced to inarticulate wailing and screaming at the fate of his brother, the boy scooted backwards on his bare behind, alternating between glancing up at Randall's grinning, insufferably smug face and looking down at the squirming bulge Tyler was making in the beastly kidnapper's belly. He was torn between wanting to kill the purple bastard and wanting to escape if he could. On the one hand, he wanted to avenge his twin; there was no saving him, not unless he managed to kill Randall and cut open his belly, and that seemed beyond his meager abilities, especially naked and afraid as he was in the swamp. With vengeance off the table, that left only escape. He hoped against hope that being so full (of his brother, he thought with a shudder), Randall was likely to be lethargic. From what he knew of snakes, they tended to become slow after swallowing a huge meal.

He glanced around for anything he could use as a weapon. He grasped a small rotten log, barely a tree branch. Seeing what his captive had in mind, Randall, his smug smile vanishing, turning downwards into a hateful grimace of surprise and displeasure, took a few steps towards Taylor, surprisingly numble despite the weight of his Tyler-filled belly dragging along beneath him. He started to say something - a taunt or a threat, something like that, Taylor imagined - but his words devolved into a startled shout as the boy half rose and swung the log. The monster jerked his upper body back, all four arms flying up, but he didn't retreat. Screaming like a savage warrior from some primordial era, Taylor rose to a feral crouch, surprised to discover his cock was still hard, but trying to ignore the feeling of the little erection bobbing in the warm, humid air of the swampy campsite. He hoped and prayed it wasn't because he enjoyed what Randall had done to him... what Randall had done to Tyler... the mere thought that he enjoyed being used like a disposable object for this creature's vile pleasures, that he liked watched his sibling disappearing down that ravenous gullet to bulge out the serpentine body of his devourer in lewd and suggestive ways, was something the boy couldn't face if it were even remotely true. Instead, he concluded that it was simply the adrenaline of his predicament. True, Randall had done things to him that had caused his body to react the appropriate way to physical stimuli, but deep down Taylor was convinced that his current arousal was due to the fact he was fighting back; he was turned on by standing up to this horrid monster that had taken him and his brother and demanded they call him "Master."

"Easy there, hot stuff!" taunted Randall, recovering and standing his ground, refusing to retreat from this little human child who dared to raise a hand - or a log, in any case - against him. The mere thought that Taylor was being rebellious amused him more than it angered him, and his toothy smile quickly returned. His cocks throbbed and drooled their pre. He was going to enjoy putting the boy in his place after this display of disloyalty. "Woo, we got a fiery one here! .... And to think your brother was the ginger!" At that, he laughed cruelly.

Taylor refused to back down either. From his crouch, he shrieked, a high-pitched, shrill sound, rather like some kind of fierce little monkey. Randall's nasty joke about redheads at his doomed brother's expense enraged him further. He moved up and down, holding the log two-handed like a baseball bat, little cock flopping around, balls tensing and shuddering. He bared his teeth, his eyes afire with the reflection of the light coming from the lamps. As Randall took a step towards him, reaching down with one of his lower hands, Taylor screamed again and lunged forward, swinging the log. He missed, but Randall jerked back again, grunting. Sweating, his naked body glistening in the dim light, the boy pressed the attack, swinging again. This time he hit one of the monster's wrists as the grasping hand tried to grab the piece of wood. There was a surprised yelp.

Again the log was flung forwards in a wide arc and its rotten girth broke apart against Randall's upper belly. The purple predator gave another surprised cry, made another grab for the now broken log the boy wielded, missed, and then, wondering why he hadn't thought to do so before now, Taylor swung again, this time targeting his Master's genitals. However, an opponent with multiple hands can be tricky, and Randall was no different. His four hands moved simultaneously and many things happened at once. One hand, one of upper ones, swung down and slapped the boy open-handed. His head was whipped to the side, eyes wide, sweat droplets flying from his skin, some little speckles of saliva from his lips. Below, one of the lower hands guarded the sensitive twin cocks from attack while the other grabbed the log and twisted it out of Taylor's grasp. Recovering from the slap, Taylor avoided the fourth hand... fortunately for him, for Randall had balled it into a fist. But as the nimble boy, his cheek red and stinging from the smack, jerked back into a feral crouch, the monster only punched open air, and in fact had put so much of his weight into the punch that he was momentarily thrown off balance, managing to keep himself from stumbling forwards and falling only due to keeping his four legs spread wide apart.

It was in this split second that Randall was off balance that Taylor ran. He shoved at the purple reptile, kicked for his cocks, missed, then, returning to his simian crouch, propelled himself forwards, to the right and past Randall, mud slinging from his bare feet as he ran. He didn't know where he was going and didn't care. As long as he left his erstwhile "Master" in the dust and ran in a direction away from that grungy little campsite where his brother had satisfied a monster's lustful hunger and was gurgling away in that terrible belly. He ran and ran, pushing himself as hard as he could go, ignoring the stinging weeds and thorny branches whipping at his bare flesh, some of them striking his little cock, earning pained little moans from his lips, though most of them smacked against his thighs, lower legs and buttocks.

Randall recovered quickly, but not quickly enough to prevent Taylor's flight. Keeping ahold of the log he'd taken from him, he whipped around in the direction the boy had gone. Already, his prey was gone from view, but he had ways of finding him. Oh yes he did. He sniffed, then tasted the air with his tongue. Not that he needed to use any of his senses besides sight and hearing to determine where the boy was; even though he was already gone from view in the darkness, he left an obvious trail of swaying branches and blades of grass, still shaking from when he'd passed through them. He grabbed the kerosene lantern with one free hand and then, completely unencumbered by the weight of the boy he'd already eaten making his belly hang heavily and drag along the ground, Randall darted after his escaping captive.

"Run all you want!" Randall yelled, holding the lantern out in front of him as he ran. "I know this place, kid! This is my swamp! You can't hide from me here!"

Inside of him, Tyler, already beginning the slow process of digesting, was jostled violently, completely unaware of what was going outside. He could only imagine what horrors were taking place outside of his fleshy prison.

Much like his nameless predecessor, Taylor ran blindly, and in fact, due to the sloping terrain of the area around the camp, found himself retracing that very same doomed boy's steps without knowing it, although he was very shortly to become acquainted with him. In his haste, he stumbled and staggered down the slick, sloping ground which was taking him straight to the "dead hollow" and its vile quicksand-like bogs. Though unlike his captor's previous victim, he was not to die drowning in the thick muck, for he never quite made it. He was already losing his balance and starting to fly forward uncontrollably when he stepped on one of the broken pieces of wood that had once composed the warning sign that the previous boy had smashed through. He slipped on it and fell face down right on the very edge of the mire. He had the wind knocked out of him.

As he pushed himself up, panting, sweat, mud and other vile muck dripping off of him, he gasped as he saw the blonde-haired head, visible from the eyebrows up, sticking up out of the bubbling slime not even two feet from where he lay. Because he'd slipped and fallen, he'd been saved from stumbling directly into a sucking, slimy grave. Though as the night wore on, he would soon wonder if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

Tentatively, Taylor reached out and took a handful of blonde hair. Rising to one knee, he pulled. There was a lewd, grotesque sucking sound and the head popped free, revealing it was attached to a thin neck and, presumably, an entire body beneath the surface of the stinking bubbly muck. Although the dead boy's hair was still in relatively good shape, thick and lustrous, the rest of him wasn't; below the eyebrows where he'd been immersed in the bog, his skin was shrivelled and pruned and was a ghastly greenish gray color, his eyes glassy and tilted back in their sockets. His mouth hung open, and the muck that he'd swallowed and drowned on oozed slowly out over his limp, protruding tongue. Taylor shivered. He didn't recognize the dead boy, and doubted he would even if he hadn't been a rotting, waterlogged corpse. He released the handful of hair he had in disgust, but the muck didn't reclaim its victim; the boy remained as he was, half pulled out, head leaning back on the stiff neck.

Suddenly, light flowed over him. "Ah," he heard someone say behind him. Randall. He turned over onto his back.

Randall stood over him, smirking smugly down at him. In his upper right hand, he held the lantern. In the lower hand directly below that, he held the broken in half log he'd torn from Taylor's grasp. His upper left hand was at his "hip" - that is, just above the "shoulder" of the arm beneath, affecting a "hand on hip" pose - and the lower left hand was gently playing with those bulbous cocks, the fingers stroking and flicking over those twin drooling monsters. His swollen body filled with the squirming devoured Tyler stretched out behind him, tail slithering limply in the mud. His Master had come for him.

"I see you met the last boy I brought out here," the monster said. He held the lantern a little higher to shine the light on the pruny face of the partially submerged corpse of the blonde boy. He screwed his mouth up in distaste. "Never did get his name. Just grabbed him. What you might call a target of opportunity." He lowered the lantern again so it shined on Taylor, banishing the blonde boy and his swampy grave back to the shadows, his smile returning. It was a smile that was somehow both cruel and paternal at the same time. "Not like you and your tasty brother." At "tasty brother," he groaned, a gurgle and a muffled moan issuing forth from the bloated lower body stretched out behind him. His tail rose and fell, thumping against the ground in pleasure at the feeling of the trapped boy squirming as he digested slowly. "You two," he continued, "I watched for days and days, learning everything about you before I made my move." He chuckled darkly. "The buildup was almost better than the payoff..."

His bravado drained, Taylor sobbed openly. "You ate Tyler..." he whined.

"Yes, I did," replied Randall smugly. "And I'm going to eat you too. But not before I fuck you. That's what's going to happen." His lower left land released his cocks, then moved, palm up, so that his lower right one could raise and lower the log piece, smacking it up and down against the left hand's upturned palm threateningly. "The only thing I haven't decided yet is whether I'm gonna drag you back with me... or just do it all right here."

Taylor tried to stand, slid in the slick mud, and fell to his hands and knees, his body hitching in sobs. He gave up. It was all over. Seeing the blonde boy dead in the bog made him realize there was no escape from the purple monster. He hung his head, his brown hair hanging limply plastered against his forehead. And, much to his confused, angry shame, his stiff little cock refused to soften. If anything, it only throbbed harder. Observing his submission, Randall was pleased, but he still wanted to mete out punishment for the escape attempt.

"But first..." he said, lifting and eyeing the log piece, shifting it from his right lower hand to his left lower one and thence to his upper right one, shifting the lantern to his left, "you need to be taught a lesson, just like all bad boys."

He raised the log. It was brought down. Taylor endured the savage beating until he collapsed and lay limp on the ground at his Master's feet, the throbbing, oozing monster cocks a mere few feet away. Randall didn't let up. His swings were practiced. Each stroke of the log left harsh red marks and made the naked boy's limp body jerk and twitch but didn't draw blood. Again and again the piece of rotten wood rose and fell, bits of it flying off in all directions with each powerful stroke, each merciless strike against Taylor's head, neck, shoulders, back and butt. Randall's forked tongue flicked out in satisfaction. When the log was reduced to just a crumbling nub, he threw it away, then, without any more ceremony, he grabbed the barely conscious boy's wrist and jerked him up into a half standing position.

"Now then," he said, "let's get back, shall we...?"

He dragged the unresisting boy back to camp, to finish his second round of debauched fun and have his second meal. Upon returning, he threw the limp and bruised form to the ground, grunting and setting the lantern aside. He stood for a moment, looking down at his captive, both impressed and annoyed with the human's resolve and fierceness a few moments earlier... but also glad he'd managed to retrieve him. Had Taylor escaped and managed to find his way back to civilization, he'd bring adults back with him. Armed ones. Randall, fierce as he was, couldn't hope to stand up to grown men armed with guns. Hell, he thought as he idly rubbed the scar on his head with his fingertips, he couldn't even stand up to that one boy's mother, and all she'd had was a shovel. The memory of being beaten senseless so cruelly dredged up more anger towards Taylor, and he considered beating him again, just to impress upon him that he belonged to him and would suffer terribly if he tried to escape or fight back again... but decided against it. After all, the boy was going to suffer immeasurably anyway, and although he liked the idea of heaping more cruelty and pain upon him than his little mind and body could handle, Randall was afraid he'd go too far and accidentally kill him too soon. That wouldn't do. Not with what he had in mind now. The plan he'd come up with during the leisurely trek back to the campsite, dragging Taylor along behind him. As penalty for trying to escape and daring to fight back, Randall had decided to doom the boy to being eaten by him in a way far different from his brother.

Both lower hands slid down his front and each one grabbed a cock, squeezing and stroking idly. It was a method of devouring prey he'd discovered quite by accident long ago, but one he rarely did. A full stomach was usually much more satisfying. But for such a disobedient boy as Taylor, Randall was prepared to forgo that pleasure for another one, where the pleasure was in the means and not the end; besides, his stomach was already full, and though he liked the idea of sending Taylor down to squirm and digest alongside Tyler, reunitung the brothers in their slow death, he felt like he absolutely had to do it this way to prove a point, even if Taylor would take his lesson with him into death.

But first, as with Tyler, he wanted to have more fun with his remaining captive. One foot lifted and nudged the unmoving form. "Get up." Taylor didn't respond. "Useless little brat."

After a few more judicious nudges, some of which were really kicks, Taylor stirred and came back to a groggy, confused conscioussness. That was fine with Randall. He grabbed him and hoisted him up by the legs, spreading them using the thumbs of his upper hands to reveal that delightful boy hole he'd already penetrated back in the twins' bedroom. The monster salivated. Boys were delicious and sexy, but he liked nothing better on them than their tight little assholes, except perhaps their little cocks. Even as Taylor, still confused, mumbled "Come on... this is weird... you're weird..." as though he thought he was still asleep and dreaming, Randall's scaly purple lips nestled between those spread apart buttocks, the crack hot and muggy with sweat and boy musk. Delightful, he thought as his tongue slid forth to lick the smelly sweat driplets up and taste the wrinkled pucker. He shuddered. Positively amazing. An ass he was thoroughly going to enjoy dining on, though it'd be the only part of Taylor he intended to consume orally.

"Ahhh, tasty," Randall muttered between licks, his tongue pressing against and then sinuously penetrating the boy's rear entrance, slithering into his deepest recesses. "Gggrrooow... mmghhmmm... mmmgn... mmmmmhmmm..."

"Uughhh..." moaned Taylor, his little cock stiff as Randall's fingers on one of his lower hands played with it.

Deeper and deeper that tongue went. Randall came up for air, slurping his tongue free, gasping, and allowed the boy to slump back down to the ground. A nudge with one foot and Taylor rolled dumbly over onto his back, staring up at his Master with glazed eyes. Grinning, Randall turned 'round and straddled the body's body, with his tail end facing Taylor's head. The tail itself draped heavily over his flushed, hot face, nearly choking him in the musky odor pouring from the reptile's asshole, his twin cocks laying heavily on the boy's chin and drooling their pre onto his neck and shoulders... and, far more heavily, his bloated, bulging belly filled with the digesting form of Tyler smushed down and spread grotesquely over Taylor's chest and stomach, weak struggles still coming from within. Tyler was a fighter, Randall had to admit. He liked fighters. At least ones who waited until they were already inside him to fight, when it was too late to do them any good and benefitted him and him alone.

"Say hi to your brother," he sneered, pushing the bulge that used to be Tyler down harder onto Taylor's front, earning a groan of confused lust and growing horror from the boy, music to Randall's ears. "There's been a change of plans, though," he explained as he bent and licked and kissed along the adorable little cock and equally small balls, using one finger to tease and probe at the wrinkled pucker he'd just gotten done eating out. "You won't be joing him in my tummy. You're going... somewhere else." He giggled. Lubed as it was with his spit and Taylor's sweat, his finger slid in easily, making the naked form beneath his purple body arch his back and smush his face unintentionally right into the monster's own asshole, getting a mouthful of musky monster rectum as he parted his lips in that sweet little moan, all but moaning into his Master's lower bowels. "Oooohhhh, no," Randall chuckled, lest Taylor get the wrong idea. "Not there, either. Somewhere else. Here... let me show you. Come on, it'll be fun. Pleasure me and I'll pleasure you. Some mutual enjoyment before I send you to gurgle and churn, eh, boy?"

So saying, he lifted his backside, pushing up with his front legs, rear olds leaving the ground, allowing his twin fat dicks to slide up and plop against the boy's face. At this, Taylor's eyes widened in dawning realization as he processed what the monster had said. Was Randall really going to... eat him with his dicks? Surely that wasn't possible! But he had little time to contemplate the hows and whys of such a thing before those bulbous members force their way into his whimpering mouth, first one and then the other. Yeah, he was gonna fuck that cute face with both dicks, unlike what he'd done with Tyler. He began undulating his body up and down, thrusting the dual shafts in and out of the beautiful thin lips of the boy, tail lashing in the air slowly, hissing with delight as he swallowed Taylor's own small cock, sucking it powerfully as he kept fingering the tight little asshole. Taylor's confusion, fear, any objections he might have to his captor's plans for him and the feasibility of swallowing someone with one of his cocks, was washed away in a sea of depraved carnal bliss as both of said cocks filled his mouth, making his cheeks bulge like a chipmunk with too many nuts stuffed into his mouth, the bloated heads sliding right down his throat, making him slowly gag and strangle. Randall moaned around his own lovely little mouthful, making sure to use his bloated boy-filled belly to keep Taylor pinned, enjoying using the weight of the already by now mostly digested redhead to keep his brother from going anywhere.

Taylor gagged around those twin cocks, but accepted them, feeling his mind beginning to break, his failed escape attempt and the lost of Tyler having made him give up hope and begin to despair. His head was also still swimming from the savage beating he'd been give with the log earlier. Between that and the revelation of just what fate Randall had in store for him when they were done soon essentially made Taylor just give up and submit without further complaint. There'd be no more escape attempts. He was Randall's. He gulped greedily around his captor's cocks as the big, thick-tailed rear end rose and fell, his thin body squirming and continuously shooting load after load of his sticky cum to splatter against Randall's belly and be smeared between their writing bodies the deeper the monster's tongue went into his asshole, teasing and deliciously tormenting him in ways he hadn't thought possible. He'd never even considered that it might be possible for a tongue, or anything else, to go that deep into his or anyone else's bowels. More than the aggressive fucking of his mouth, Randall's tongue penetrating that deeply into his asshole turned the boy into his. Taylor submitted completely and would be obedient for the rest of his life... which could be measured in minutes.

The slurping sounds echoed across the swamp, and then, finally, Randall hit his climax. He pulled his tongue free of Taylor's ass, gritting his teeth and hissing through them, squeezing his eyes shut, arching his back and burying his dual cocks in the hot mouth of the boy to the bases, his body shuddering with torturously orgasmic glee as he came, pumping load after load into Taylor's mouth. Most of it went right down his throat, but there was so much of it that he couldn't swallow it all, not that much that quickly, and he soon began to audibly strangle on it, eyes bulging as cum shot out around the bases of the cocks and splurted through his nose. Randall opened his eyes a bit and laughed at the sounds of gurgly gagging coming from behind and under him, enjoying the idea that Taylor was choking on his huge load... and part of him was content to just let him die that way, but he'd already made up his mind and, besies, he'd already been deprived of one boy that should've gone inside of him, so he knew he couldn't condemn Taylor to such a fate... not when he had a much better one in mind for him. Before the boy could choke to death, Randall lifted his hindquarters up enough to let his still spurting cocks pop free from his mouth, sending the last of their sticky loads onto Taylor's already thoroughly drenched face. He sighed happily, then got off of him, and, turning, watched for a moment as the boy flailed on his back pathetically, before reaching down with one of his lower hands, grabbing a handful of the cum, mud and sweat soaked hair, and viciously jerking him into an abrupt sitting position. The hand released Taylor's hair and was raised to slap him on the back, but Randall didn't need to; the combination of the internal pressure plus the abrupt shift to a sitting position caused the boy to violently projectile vomit; cum shot out of his mouth in quite a display, in a brief but powerful spray that Randall estimated went at least two feet if not more.

As the boy shifted, trying to rise, failing and falling to his hands and knees, coughing and spitting up more cum, his belly audibly sloshing like a full wineskin, Randall snickered cruelly at his distress. "Come on," he said, "surely a big boy like you can take what meager gifts I've got to give you. But there's still more to come." Standing over him, Randall observed the noticeable change in his captive's demanor, the way Taylor hung his head low, the way he shivered in fear. He'd beaten the defiance out of him, all right, but he hadn't yet made him totally his. And he wanted to be sure. And since his dicks were still hard, he decided he might as well fuck any remaining defiance out of the kid.

"Now then, before you go, it's time for one final bit of fun. We already did this back at your house with your brother joining in on the fun, but this time it'll be just us. Although, of course, he's still here, heh, though fading fast, I imagine." He gave his bloated lower stomach a big slap, the sound of which made Taylor jump and cringe. Then Randall waddled over and positioned himself behind him, upper legs beside Taylor's chest, knees in his armpits, lower ones firmly between the boy's own legs, using his ankles to spread them apart. "Hope you enjoyed the workout I gave your jaws... now let's get back to that cute little butt of yours. Now beg."

"H-Huh...?" Taylor managed, feeling his Master's cockheads sliding and grinding against his little butt.

"I said beg, boy!" growled Randall, pushing insistently at that rear opening. "Beg me to fuck you one last time!"

"Fuck me, sir!" whimpered the boy, shuddering, his cock still shamefully stiff. "Fuck your little boy meal and then eat him all up! W-With your dick!"

Randall grinned. He hadn't asked for that last little bit. My, my, this boy was learning. "Atta boy! Thaaaat's what I like to hear." And with that, he humped forwards, and his righthand cock promptly battered its way into Taylor's tight anal entrance. He gritted his teeth and squeezed one eye shut in carnal delight as the pulsing, knobby erection invaded the boy's lower intestinal tract, already squirting precum inside of him. "Ooooh," he moaned, "even after the assramming I gave you and your brother earlier, you are fucking tight!" Though the ferocity of his thrusts ensured that Taylor was loosening up the more he humped him.

Taylor took it like a champ. He'd ensured what his captor and soon to be devourer had given him back at the house and he could endure this. He didn't need to do much bue lie there with the heavy bulge of his digesting twin pressing down hard against his bare back and let Randall pound his tight little ass, issuing forth slutty little moans, both to express his own shameful pleasure and, he hoped, to please Randall; knowing that he had so little time left to live, a dark prospect for one so young to have to contemplate, Taylor was determined to at least do his very best to please his Master. He'd failed to save Tyler and he'd failed to escape, himself, but he would not fail to be the best plaything Randall Boggs could ask for. It was much appreciated. Randall could tell the boy was giving it his all, and was impressed, but, as Taylor very well knew, it wasn't going to save him from his eventual gooey fate.

The fucking continued for he knew not how long. Time in the swamp, in Randall's clutches, seemed to pass differently, as if in a dream. The monster himself was already once again close to orgasm, and would've nutted in the boy's ass then and there had he not realized that his lefthand dick was all by its lonesome on the outside, merely rubbing viorously against Taylor's left buttock, while the righthand cock had all the fun.

"My other cock is a bit lonely..." he gasped, panting, tongue flicking. "What say we let it in on the fun?"

At "fun," he wriggled his lower body, maneuvering it so that the huge cockhead would press against, and through, Taylor's already stretched asshole. It was a bit of a struggle, but soon it slid in right alongside its partner, earning a groan of satisfaction from Randall and a high-pitched, short little squeal from the boy beneath him. The boy was now being fucked so hard that he was being pushed down into the mud, and there was a very real possibility that Taylor would wind up being fucked right down into the earth. To avoid this, Randall maneuvered himself onto his back in a kind of sitting position, pulling Taylor up with him, gathering him up in all four arms and holding him tightly against the stomach bulge containing his by now thoroughly digested brother. With his right lower hand, he grabbed hold of the boy's little dick, squeezing and twisting it mercilessly, as well as giving it a few jerks. He wanted to watch that cute little cock spew one last time. He wasn't disappointed. The human's little cock twitched and shot forth its final meager load for the night - and Taylor's life - to splatter all over his belly. Randall wasn't far behind. A final upwards thrust of his twin dicks and he once more hilted in the boy, and his body shuddered as his own orgasm pulsed through him, sending more of his hot, sticky load up inside of Taylor's bowels to join the earlier deposits in sloshing and gurgling.

Groaning, Randall wriggled his hips and the twin cocks popped free, leaving Taylor's asshole gaping. The cum just oozed out in one big mess to splattered all over the very cocks that had deposited them. Taylor whimpered and tried to clench, to prevent the cum from oozing free. Though his asshole still gaped, it was already slowly beginning to close again. Randall, for his part, lay back, panting, though he was far from exhausted. At least completely. He had enough energy left to do the final thing he intended to do to Taylor for the night, and then he could rest. And what a well-earned rest it would be!

"That was fun..." he said, gasping, "but as I've said many times before... all good things must come to an end."

"It is it time...?" Taylor asked, his voice nervous and shaky.

Randall opened one eye and looked down at him. "Time?"

"For me to... for me to go," the boy said.

"Indeed it is, my delicious little one. And I'll even let you pick which cock you get to feed."

A truly sadistic choice. As excited as Taylor was to be pleasing his Master, he couldn't help but cry, fresh years rolling down his face as he contemplated the only choice left open to him. Left or right? Which could would he feed? On some level, he realized the importance of the decision. This was it. The end. The moment he chose, he was going into Randall Boggs' body like his brother had, though in through a different way. He was having a difficult time picking. He both did and didn't want to end up churned in his Master's balls, and yet he'd long since resigned himself to his fate, and he was not about to let Randall take this, his only remaining say in the matter, away from him. And so he resorted to that old standby of "eenie meenie minie mo." His finger went back and forth between the two cocks and "mo" ended up being the righthand one. His trembling finger pointed at it.

"...this one," was all he said. "I want to feed this one, sir. I mean Randall. I m-mean Master." He shivered and blushed.

Randall was amused by the boy's mixture of horror and enthusiasm. "You want this, don't you...?"

"Yes sir. Please. I want to be your cockfood. This cock's food." Again he pointed at the right one. "Feed me to it, as I deserve to be. I'm n-nothing but your plaything for you to use up and dispose as you see fit."

They were to be his final words.

Randall's heart swelled with pride at the boy's obedience. "Words to live by." He grinned darkly. "Or die by, in this case."

Now it was time for the final feasting. Using one of his lower hands, Randall stroked his right cock in a specific way he'd learned a while ago, which would ultimately make it swell larger than normal. And swell it did. Slowly, over the next few minutes, it grew out to gargantuan proportions, nearly three feet in length and as thick around as Taylor's body. Randall gasped, feeling lightheaded; making his cock grow this big took a lot out of him. But he knew that it would be worth it in the end, once he had the final boy tucked away. As the cock swelled and bobbed hungrily, Taylor, glancing up, met his Master's eyes. He felt small and pitiful beneath that heavily-lidded yet piercing gaze. He knew that now it was time to truly prove his loyalty. And like any good slave, he was ready to do so. His entire body shaking nervously, he knelt in the slime and mud and cupped his hands to reverently catch the drooling precum that was dribbling down from the bloated head of the huge cock, allowing it to fill them. When it began seeping and oozing between his fingers from overflowing, he earned a deep, pleased rumble from the monster by slurping the thick mixture from his cupped hands. He degraded himself and forever cemented his place as this beastly reptile's property.

He was rewarded accordingly. Though Randall seemed determined to have the boy prove his eagerness by having him feed himself to his cock directly. Less work for him, anyway. The thick tail slithered around and nudged at Taylor's skinny legs, probing under his butt, indicating that he rise. He did so. Communication between Master and slave was easy at this point, so easy that no more words would pass between them for the remainder of Taylor's life. As he rose, the tip of Randall's tail kept prodding at his rear end, urging him forward and up. With some difficulty, Taylor climbed up and over the cock and laid back against Randall's front, balancing his feet against the base of the cock. And at his Master's direction, he began using one of his feet to tease over the huge cockhead below. The other was used on the left cock, so that it didn't feel left out, though it wasn't the one being fed tonight.

Taylor's feet proved extremely dexterous, toes groping and sliding over the knobbed surface of the shaft and the oozing and spurting cockhead, even gently pinching at the flesh and tugging on it. Randall's body rumbled with a groan of pleasure. He was so pleased. But as much as he enjoyed the footjob the boy was giving him, all good things had to come to an end, and his greed to feed his cock won over his desire to continue being pleasure, and so Randall granted Taylor's newfound desire to be consumed by concentrating his mind on manipulating his cock. He had a tremendous amount of control over both of his members, and was able to make the swollen right one move however he wanted if he tried hard enough. During one of Taylor's more vigorous rubbings over the bulbous head, the slit suddenly widened, stretching out enormously, like a great, yawning mouth. Taylor's feet slid right in. He gasped and shuddered and was afraid for a moment, but only for a moment. Then he remembered that the dark, yawning abyss was the path to being inside of his Master, and gave himself up to it completely. Wriggling, he slid right in, feet-first, and was in up to his waist in no time. He came as he went, the act of feeding himself to this beastly cock being enough to send him over the edge, adding his cum to the monster's deep inside his shaft as he went down, throwing back his head and letting loose a slutty moan of delight.

As he sank in, Taylor found himself stuck about halfway up when the urethral opening clamped tightly around him suddenly. He was in up to his armpits. Randall licked his lips. As much as he enjoyed its slave's enthusiasm, he wanted to control the rate of descent from his point forward. Nothing like dragging things out just a little bit longer to remind the boy who was Master here. He, not Taylor, would decide how long it would take him to go down. And although Taylor grabbed at the urethra and pulled, stretching it a bit, he couldn't make the cock swallow him faster. He whined and begged, but got no reply from the monster save a few disorienting bucks of the cock that threw him up and down and made his head spin. Something like a laugh grumbled up from Randall's throat. The human's neediness amused him. The more he wanted it, the less Randall seemed willing to grant him his slimy demise. For a minute, he kept him like that, before he began using a combination of rolling gulps and upward lunges of the shaft to swallow him, making sure to go extra slow. Fortunately for Taylor, being in up to his armpits meant he didn't have far to go before he was at least fully encased in the cock, though it'd be a while yet before he reached his truly desired destination..

Buck, gulp, slide. Taylor sank in with excruciating slowness, his moans occasionally peppered with fevered, mindless praises for the great Master above him, into whom he was now sinking. He was now completely out of his mind, but where he was going, it didn't matter. If anything, it would enhance his experience. His arms were forced up over his head and he squeezed his eyes shut, moaning and getting a mouthful of thick, slimy monster cum as his head sank into the slit. Now only his weakly twitching arms, fingers clenching and unclenching in the air, sticking up out of the cock. Because he was so thin, he didn't make much of a bulging outline in the underside of the shaft, though he made one nevertheless, with his raging hard-on quite visible, and noticeably throbbing through the flesh.

Randall licked over Taylor's fingers before deciding to end his miserable anticipation and sending him where he wanted to go, because it was where he wanted him to go too; his greed and impulsiveness had again won out over its desire to draw things out. With one powerful clench combined with an upward thrust of the ravenous member, he sent Taylor hurtling down the deep shaft, his wriggling fingers vanishing with a slurp. The urethra closed, though it pulsed and quivered like the mouth of a satisfied monster, Taylor's vanishing fingers giving the effect of it licking its "lips" a final time in satisfaction. And speaking of satisfaction, Randall positively quivered with it as his second slave was sent down to his fate in its balls. Or what counted as his balls. Lacking external testicle due to his reptilian nature, Randall instead had sacs, semen reservoirs you might call them, located in his groin behind and below the base of each of his cocks when they were extended in arousal. It was into one of these - the right one, of course - that Taylor was deposited, landing in the thick nut batter with an oozy splash. On the outside, the boy's body made a bulge beneath the twin cocks where Randall's balls would be if he were a more mammalian monster.

Something began happening to him that at first Taylor didn't quite understand. He knew that the monster ate with his cock and that the prey ended up deep in the recesses of what could be considered its balls, and that this was in some way final, the end of him, but beyond that his frazzled mind couldn't quite comprehend what was going to happen to him. So when his body began to soften and large portions began sloughing off in drippy rivulets to mix with the cum he was all but completely immersed in, it took him a moment to realize exactly what was happening. But even when he was confused, he wasn't panicked; as long as he was close to his Master, it didn't matter what happened. And what was happening, he realized, was that he was melting.

Whether because of the intense heat, some transformative property of the monster's cum, a strange digestive process he couldn't even begin to fathom, or a combination of all of them, Taylor realized that he was melting, or, perhaps more accurately, being turned into cum. Particularly potent cum, at that. It was an odd sensation, and an odd thing to comprehend, but as with everything else unusual he'd endured that since first encountering Randall and being abducted by him, he just gave himself to him and went with it. Besides, it was too late to escape now, and had been for some time. Why not just enjoy the ride? His body finally collapsed in on itself. His eyes rolled back in their sockets, he gave a final, gurgling moan of confused but delighted passion, and then he was suddenly not Taylor anymore, just a vaguely boy-shaped construct made of monster cum, and he simply degenerated into formless goo, sinking down and mixing with the rest of the jizz bubbling and sloshing around him.

Randall reared back and roared triumphantly. He had completed his total domination over his two new slaves and reveled in his master. His body rocked back and forth, still swollen right cock, and the normal-sized one beside it, flopping back and forth, up and down. Taylor's twin brother Tyler had already long digested inside his stomach. His tail curled jealously around his cocks, the tip teasing the base of the right one's shaft, which was already shrinking back down to normal size after having finished swallowing Taylor. It didn't take long. His orgasm was more psychological and emotional than physical, as the sheer thought of how he had taken the two young males and made them into his servants before devouring them and completely breaking their bodies down, drove him wild, as he enjoyed completely dominating the prey, making them want it. Especially young boys, children, as it helped satisfy his burning lust for vengeance against the human race. The thick tip of the tail teasing at the shaft finally sent him over the edge. His mind was flooded with a pleasure few beings could ever knew, and the beastly cocks shuddered and fountained forth thick twin geysers of cum with the force of a thousand firehoses.

It splattered over the the muddy ground, completely obliterating. The cocks kept spasming and spewing forth their thick bounty for a full five minutes, the monster knowing nothing but pleasure which threatened to ascend his mind to a higher plane of existence almost, before, finally, it stopped as suddenly as it began, leaving Randall panting and satisfied. He yawned. He had had a full day. Later, he would go find more slaves. More delicious little boys. Though first he would need to rest. With another yawn, the monster lay down on his cot, grabbing the paperback copy of The Invisible Man, reading through it a bit, and about halfway through, he went to sleep, his dreams filled with naked males submitting to him, serving him and becoming him food. Males like Taylor and Tyler, who had served him well and earned their gooey reward.

The End.