Date: Mon, 20 May 2013 21:32:59 -0700 (PDT)
From: Topseed
Subject: Planet of the Rapes

Planet of the Rapes

This is a work of fiction and in no way intends to suggest the sexuality of
the real actors and actresses. Characters are property of Twentieth Century
Fox. If you are offended by scenes of non-consensual sex, homosexual male
sex, bondage, or faux-bestiality (inter-species among intelligent beings),
then navigate away from this page immediately.

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Part I


John Brent, who was the most organized, rational, practical person that
anyone in his 20th century life on Earth had ever known, was conflicted and
confused as never before in the 40th century on this strange world of
talking apes. He was at once trying to focus on survival and at the same
time unable to escape the throbbing sensation in his groin, the warm
electrical feeling in his gut, and the image of the unbelievably beautiful
young "maiden in undress", the loincloth-clad beauty named Nova, who had
her arms wrapped tightly around his midsection, her hands occasionally
probing - innocently? - his ripped stomach muscles and pecs, as their
crotches were rhythmically massaged by the warm flesh of the galloping
horse they rode together in search of Taylor.

Taylor. George Taylor. He certainly complicated things. While Brent was
desperate to get away from this insane land of apes, to leave the planet
entirely if possible, this gorgeous young creature behind him certainly
would have in normal circumstances made him think twice about being so
quick to get away. But she seemed to have been Taylor's girl. Sure, Taylor
was married - but that was 2000 years in the past and on planet Earth,
however many light years that might be from this weird planet of talking
apes, and it was likely Taylor believed he would never be returning
there. The hell with that, thought Brent. I'm getting back home one way or
another. And I always had dozens of women as hot as this one waiting for
me, or waiting on me. Hell, this chick can't even talk.

But... thought Brent. This gorgeous? Really? Women this beautiful were one
in a million. And that body! Narrow waist, perfectly sized honest-to-God
natural tits of uncanny firmness, smooth perfect legs...

Still, even if she were worth staying for, Brent reminded himself that she
seemed to be Taylor's girl, and the first rule among military men - and
astronauts - like Brent and Taylor was: you never messed with a fellow
soldier's woman. Even if your buddy was a bastard or a cheat. Even if his
woman came on to you when you were vulnerable.

And Nova had come on to him constantly since they teamed up. While he was
dressing into this stinking loincloth, he'd noticed her observing his naked
torso, then his cock and balls, and then... she had smiled a big cavegirl
smile. He'd had to turn away to finish dressing, even though that meant
flashing his bare ass at her. She probably smiled at that too. He'd had to
turn away from her for her own protection, from his own lust, and because
she was another man's girl, but he'd sure love to let her look at his cock
and balls again. And let her touch them as well.

Right now, for instance. Because he was hard as a steel pipe and this
loincloth didn't really accommodate erections. He considered stopping to
"urinate" - so he could quickly relieve himself and focus on what should be
his main goal - staying alive - but figured that as long as they were near
the human-murdering gorillas of Ape City he'd best keep moving with all due
haste. Toward "The Forbidden Zone." Where Taylor had last been
sighted. Finding Taylor was the main goal right now - well, after staying
alive, of course. Although part of him almost wished that Taylor hadn't
made it, so that he could have this girl all to himself. Goddamnit! He
snapped out of his reverie. What the hell is wrong with you, Brent?, he
asked himself. He's your brother, a member of your team, and she's his
girl. Wishing him ill and lusting after his girl were both unbecoming an
American officer and astronaut...

Then the sound of gunfire rang out, and Brent had more immediate
concerns. The horse, shot in the chest, fell immediately, with Brent and
Nova flying into the air and tumbling onto the grassy ground. Miraculously,
they both landed safely. Brent crouched, looking for the shooter. Suddenly,
having a painfully swollen erection was the least of his problems. In fact,
it was no longer a problem at all. Fear was better than cold water for
putting a man's swollen lust in its place.

He spotted a small band of armed apes in a grove of oak trees. He grabbed
Nova's arm and, pulling her up, ran in the opposite direction.

Brent was in near-perfect physical condition for a man in his mid thirties,
and Nova was at least five years younger and obviously in great shape
too. Those beautiful legs got their shapeliness from being toned and fit,
that narrow waist was a product of an active life, those big, firm
breasts... Focus, Brent! They were both long, lean, and in great
shape. They could easily outrun the bulky, clumsy apes chasing them.

And they were doing a great job of it too, until they hit the net that a
second group of apes, lying in wait for them, had set up in their
path. Despite struggling, the dozens of powerful apes quickly had Brent and
Nova collared and hauled off in a wheeled cage, an Ape World paddy wagon
for human "animals". Within hours they were in what looked like a giant
land-based birdcage, with over a dozen other human "animals". These humans
were depressing and annoying - they stunk, they grunted, they acted like
animals all right - and from the menacing way they surrounded Brent and
leered at Nova, he could tell it was going to be a long, brutal night. And
he was fine with that. He was frustrated and angry and very good with his
fists. Just let these cavemen try to lay one hairy paw on Nova!

Part II

After one or two attempts at separating Brent and Nova had failed with a
broken nose or some smashed teeth - accompanied by laughter and hooting
from the other humans and attendant apes - everyone in the human birdcage
settled down for the night and Brent and Nova were able to get a little
sleep. Brent slept lightly, part of him vigilant against a sneak attack,
and so he was constantly aware of Nova snuggling up against him for warmth,
one arm around his waist, the other resting on his thigh. It seemed like
his erection didn't subside all night.

The next morning they were again hauled off in the cage-on-wheels. Brent
watched in horror as they passed military camps full of armed apes
performing practice drills using live humans. Apparently humans were so
feared, so despised, that the apes could not even find a practical use for
them - they were simply practice dummies for the ape warriors to kill. To
prepare for killing even more humans. He had never seen such a waste of
intelligent - or, even if you took the apes' perspective, unintelligent -
life. Even from humans, who themselves were not bad at wanton killing.

Their journey ended abruptly when they were leashed and pulled from their
cage-cart into a cavernous but well-lit structure, where another giant
birdcage awaited them. But before the sergeant manhandling his human
charges could force Brent and Nova into it, a familiar voice called out. It
was Zira, the ape woman scientist they had met the previous day, the one
who had given Brent his loincloth and told him about looking for Taylor in
the Forbidden Zone.

'Sergeant, hold on there!" she cried, seeing Brent and Nova. She walked
quickly over to Brent and began pawing his head and ears. "This is an
interesting specimen. Almost albino, but the hair is yellow and not
white. And the eyes are blue and not pink. And look at the skin color -
dark brown, not pale white. Certainly not albino. I've never seen anything
like it." (Which was untrue of course, as Taylor was, like Brent, fair
haired and blue eyed - and probably as browned by this scorching sun as
Brent was.)

Zira continued: "And yet his odd coloring has not deterred him from
obtaining a mate - indeed, he seems to have obtained a very prized mate, an
exceedingly well formed, robust and healthy one, a beautiful specimen!"
Zira was now pawing Nova as she had done Brent. "How very unusual. Perhaps
he is of a different breed or maybe he is an alpha animal in a pack that
conquered hers. Maybe the odd eye and hair coloring are evolutionary
advantages, like peacock feathers or large antlers. I simply MUST have
these specimens for my study! Bring them in here, please."

Zira was putting on an excellent show, and she seemed more than up to the
task of fooling the baffled sergeant. Brent thought they had dodged another
bullet, until a deep voice bellowed out.

"No! No, you can't have them." It was the military gorilla who had given
the speech about killing humans back in Ape City, the one Zira called
"Ursus". "We are going to use them for target practice. Take them out of
here."

The sergeant began tugging on Brent's and Nova's leashes, struggling as
Brent resisted, when Zira spoke up again. He could see the other friendly
chimp, her mate Cornelius, groan and cover his eyes. Apparently Zira was
about to do something he seemed to consider stupidly risky.

"General! I just recalled! I HAVE seen a straw haired specimen like this
before - we called him "Taylor" but you have always called him 'The One
that Got Away.' Didn't you determine that he was a real trophy buck?"

Ursus raised his hand to his sergeant, implicitly commanding him to
stop. The lower ranking military ape complied immediately.

"Go on," Ursus said, not fully trusting the female ape he was speaking
to. Females - and scientists - were trouble. A female scientist was certain
to be a real pain in the buttocks. Still, he was intrigued. The brighteyed
one who got away! Yeah, that was a trophy buck alright.

"Well, perhaps the bright eyes and light hair correlates with a large
rack. What was the brighteyed one? 6 x 7? It's worth a look, isn't it?"

Rack, golden hair, brighteyed one, 6 by 7? What were they going on about?
Brent wondered to himself, frantic to decipher the code that seemed to mean
the difference between life and death for him and Nova.

"Be my guest. But if it's not exceptional, then I will personally use these
two for may own target practice!"

Zira looked at General Ursus for a brief moment, perhaps just long enough
to determine that he was entirely serious, or maybe to ponder how she could
be even distantly related to such an odious creature, but without delay she
reached over to Brent's loincloth and ripped it off.

Brent wanted to yell out "Hey" but kept quiet. His immediate thought was to
cover himself up with his hands, but he glanced at Nova just to see if she
had a pleased look on her face (she did) and then, scanning the other
faces, realized they were staring at him in mute amazement.

"Great Lawgiver!" the gorilla general growled. "That thing must be six
inches long! And it's as soft as mud!"

"Yes," said Zira, "It's very long indeed, even for a human, and the humans,
as we all know, have by far the largest penises among all the primates. It
has long been thought that that is the source of their violent, beastly
natures." She gave Brent a long knowing look, hoping she was providing
enough information for him to reach the conclusions she deemed it important
for him to achieve.

"The erect adult male human has an average penis length of a staggering 4
and one half inches," she went on, "whereas the mighty gorilla is lucky to
have one that is not even two inches, and the average is just over one
inch. Er... sorry general."

"Hmmph," the general grunted, "I have no worries in that department, as my
harem will attest."

"Er, yes," Zira said, as agreeably as she could.

Four and a half inches? Brent thought. He recalled reading that the average
adult man was 6 inches erect. It seemed that, along with civilization,
penis size had declined among humans too. De-evolution wasn't limited to
culture, it seemed, or maybe civilization was made by big dicks, as crazy
philosophers like Nietzsche argued, albeit in a figurative sense. Well,
then, if these apes valued human penises as they seemed to, then no wonder
Taylor had impressed them. Astronauts were all alpha males. There probably
wasn't an average sized cock in the entire ANSA space corps. And the
contemporary crop of humans were all penis-pygmies. Still, like all males,
even the most "cocky", he was anxious that he would measure up. Their lives
depended on it, it seemed.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" the general was now barking at
Zira. "Let's see it full blown."

"General," Zira counseled, "I know these are just animals but their sexual
mechanisms are not that entirely different from out own. A male
needs... encouragement... to achieve his full... extension."

"Well, that's easy enough to fix," the general said, and with speed that
belied his size, he roughly seized Nova and tore her loincloth off so that
she was now more naked than Brent, whose torso was at least still covered.

Brent started to charge the general for his rough treatment of the young
woman, but was quickly grabbed and held immobile by the group of soldier
gorillas that had gathered around their leader. Ursus backhanded Brent
across the face, a blow that momentarily stunned him, and said "Be still,
human, or I'll gut the both of you now and be done with you. I have a war
to plan." Brent complied and the hold on him relaxed.

Zira had in the meantime moved to ensure that the general didn't lose
interest and return his focus to his imminent war. She gently pulled Nova
forward so that she and Brent were facing each other not 3 feet apart and
gestured for the others to back up and give the human couple some
space. The soldiers did as directed, but didn't release Brent's
wrists. Zira then stood behind Nova and lifted the young woman's hands to
her breasts and guided her fingers over her large aureoles until her
nipples hardened. Looking down she realized that Brent's penis was quickly
following suit. It had swollen such that the head was starting to peek out
of the foreskin and was noticeably thicker. It was about eight inches long
and not even erect. This gamble seemed to be paying off.

Brent for his part felt completely humiliated but knew that his ability to
achieve an erection was more important now than it had ever been before,
because this time his life and not just his ego was on the line. But he'd
"performed" under adverse conditions before and he could do so now, if only
because of Nova. If he concentrated on her and blocked everything else
there was no way her beauty could not make him as hard as the skulls of
these damned idiot apes. After all, she'd been making him hard for hours at
a time ever since he met her.

Zira then directed Nova's right hand down to her crotch and assisted her in
rubbing her pussy lips, which Zira knew were soaking wet now. She could
smell the pungent female lubrication and she was sure Brent could as
well. She could feel Nova's heartbeat quicken and her breathing grow
erratic. She was close to having an orgasm just looking at Brent's naked
body.

Brent watched Nova's firm nipples as they tightened into erection, he
smelled the rich perfume of her pussy juice, he could see her body tensing
with pleasure. He could feel the same tension in his own body and, looking
down, saw that he was now fully erect. His glans had pulled out of his
foreskin and his long penis stood out proudly at a 45 degree angle from his
firm body, the exact angle that the American flag had stood out from his
gut when he served as color guard in the Air Force.

"Oh my," said Zira, looking down at Brent's erect cock. "We may have a new
record specimen here."

Even General Ursus seemed impressed - and nonplussed. But he just smiled as
Zira scampered off, returning momentarily carrying a tape measure.

She put one end of the tape at the base of his penis, pushing deep into his
pubic nest to establish her endpoint accurately. She then drew it out
slowly to the very end of his glans, building dramatic tension among her
audience. "Nine and one quarter inches!" She exclaimed happily. She then
measured the swollen, bulbous head. "The glans alone is 2 inches long!" she
cried out. Next she measured the circumference of the penis at the base. "A
hair more than five inches! Oh my, it seems that we now have a 9 x 5 to
replace your 6 x 7 that got away!"

Brent was startled to find himself elated over having been stripped naked
and measured like an animal, but he had saved their lives it seemed,
although to what end a gorilla put human cockmeat Brent was not sure he
wanted to know. He also felt a little competitive thrill at having perhaps
beaten out the legendary Taylor in some contest of manhood. Even among
astronauts, Taylor was a man among men. Well, apparently so was Brent. At
least in dick size. Among gorilla judges.

"That is," Ursus was now proclaiming in his deep stentorian ape voice, "the
largest horn I have ever seen! It will look splendid on my den wall! And
maybe those testicles too - they seem to be right plump little hen's eggs!
I may even mount the heads of these two separately above my fireplace -
you're right, they're unusually attractive specimens, and the golden hair
and the dark brown hair go well together! Take them to my compound - and
prepare the male for the hunt and the female as bait! He really stands at
attention for her! I should have time in a few days for sport. And tell
Havok the taxidermist to prepare for a field job. I want this one at the
absolute maximum size he can reach when we stuff that sausage. I might have
a new world record rack here."

For some crazy reason Zira seemed happy with this news but Brent started
thrashing, trying to escape his captors. She hadn't saved his life - she'd
set him up to be castrated for his "horn"! But strangely she just winked at
him as she helped the sergeant lead them to another cage-cart. "Here,
sergeant, let me give them their loinskins. You know how funny these
animals are about appearing naked! Now I think you have seen why. They'd
walk around all the day with their outrageous horns stiff and clumsy and
bothering their stupid cow females!" As Zira stuffed the ragged animal
skins into his hands, Brent felt something long and hard. A key. By having
them shipped off to the general's compound while he was busy planning a
war, she had bought them both time and a means of escape. He nodded slowly
at her, trying to say Thank You with just his unusually colored eyes.

Part III

Brent wasn't sure he'd done the smartest thing, but as soon as the
cage-cart was out of sight of the human "animal processing facility" and
the military camps, he'd pulled out the key, opened the cart door, and
quietly climbed to the top of the moving cage. It had been touch-and-go
there for a while, as the powerful ape driving the cart almost overwhelmed
him, but Brent had maneuvered the creature into position to be knocked off
the cart by a low-hanging branch. He'd then unmounted the horses and he and
Nova escaped toward the Forbidden Zone riding them bareback. Before long
however, they'd been pursued by ape warriors stationed near the Forbidden
Zone and, dismounting, had disappeared into a cavern in the side of a stone
cliff. Their pursuers were afraid to follow them down into this underground
cavern, because whatever menaced the Forbidden Zone was thought to be
active down there. Brent had only a vague knowledge of this superstition,
and what apes believed or not really didn't mean much to him.

But now he wondered if he shouldn't have been a little warier. There was
something down here in these tunnels, alright - strange human
telepaths. And they seemed to regard Brent with the same animosity with
which they would regard an ape. They were as nasty and brutal in their own
way as the apes - they gave new meaning to the term "passive aggressive"
with their telepathic mind-beatings and sluggish physical movements. They
had tried to make Brent drown Nova, and in trying to save her by fleeing
from her, he had been caught by these mindfuckers. They had done their
worst with him, and he had survived their brutal treatment, however. He
didn't want them to find out about the apes planning to attack them. He was
counting on that surprise attack as a way for him and Nova to escape from
both apes and mutant mindfuckers alike.

But now they brought in Nova. They couldn't read minds precisely, but they
could intuit desires and emotions accurately, and knew what buttons to
push. They could also control minds completely, making one see things, hear
things, feel things, and believe things. And they could simply force a man
to do something utterly contrary to his will, such as their attempts to get
him to kill Nova. It was ironic, really, that they had so much telepathic
power to basically "write over" a man's will and personality and yet
couldn't do something so simple as read from his mind anything other than
vague emotional states and animal desires.

"Oh no," he said when he saw them dragging in the beautiful cavegirl, "not
her. She's done nothing wrong. Leave her alone. Torture me, but leave her
alone."

"We don't torture anyone, Mr. Brent. We get our enemies to torture one
another."

"But I'm not your enemy! I don't know the first thing about you."

"We think otherwise. But in any case, we know a lot about you. And we can
use it to find out what you are hiding from us."

At that moment a torrent of images and imperatives flooded Brent's mind. He
saw false memories of Nova teasing him, taunting him mutely for failing to
seize her, to satisfy her, as a real man would have done, as Taylor had
done. She was miming the smallness of his manhood, both literally and
figuratively, mocking him in comparison to her other lovers, not merely
Taylor but other humans she had had sex with. It was as if he could read
her mind and she was full of nothing but contempt for him. At the same time
he saw images of her lasciviously seducing him, of her coming on to him
like an insatiable nymphomaniac. His erect cock was straining at his
loincloth. He ripped it off and tossed it aside. His cock protruded
grotesquely from his body, so engorged it looked purple. It demanded
satisfaction. It demanded sacrifice.

Nova was frozen in place, unable to move, pretending to be afraid of
him. But he knew that she wanted this, she had begged the telepaths for
this, and they were ordering him now, Fuck her! Rape her! Show her you
really are a man! She thinks you aren't a real man! She thinks you aren't
attracted to women! Show her what you're really like!

"Yeah, I'll show her," Brent muttered out loud as he moved slowly and
menacingly toward the cowering cavegirl. "I'll show her what I'm really
like, all right." And he thought to himself: The apes said I had a record
trophy horn and this bitch laughed at it! I'll see if she's laughing when I
stretch her pussy lips so tightly I drag her clit into her cunt and out
again with each poke!"

Brent tore off her loincloth. Nova screamed but Brent knew it was all an
act. She had been wanting this for days. Staring at his large pecker while
he dressed. Caressing his taut abdomen as they rode. Cuddling with
him. Almost having an orgasm just looking at his stiff boner. He tossed the
smelly animalskin rag aside. "I know what this bitch really wants," he said
aloud.

Nova was both terrified and sexually excited, the telepaths knew, and they
had not had to interfere in her mental state at all. This was going to be
wonderful, they whispered to one another telepathically. Lacking sex organs
themselves, the telepaths could only experience orgasm vicariously, through
the minds of other, intellectually lesser beings. The apes were horrible
subjects for this live action telepathic porn, as their sex was, as the
saying goes, nasty, poor, brutal, and short. Some of the humans were
capable of greater grace and endurance in their lovemaking, but attractive
specimens were rare. Taylor had been a real find, as he was somewhat
intelligent and very imaginative, something neither apes nor contemporary
humans were, but he was older and less attractive than they preferred,
although it was obvious he had been quite a specimen in his day. And his
penis seemed positively huge, although anything was huge for the mutants,
who lacked them entirely.

But this couple were something else altogether. Like Taylor they were
intelligent - by current human or ape standards and not their own of course
- but they were also younger, had beautifully shaped bodies, and even more
beautiful faces. The mutants wished now they had taken the time to shave
Brent as they had Taylor, as the beard was unruly and reminded them of the
brutish human animals they despised as much as the apes did, but otherwise
he was the most handsome man any of them had ever seen. And of even greater
beauty of course was the stunning Nova. They had glimpsed images of her
from Taylor's mind but in the flesh she was infinitely more gorgeous. And
that was the central tragedy of the lives of the mutant telepaths. They
could see into a man's mind, read his emotions, but what they glimpsed was
as insubstantial as the phantoms they created. The flesh easily trumped the
imagination for them. And yet for them the joyous physical contact of naked
human sex was as impossible as it would be for Brent or Nova to have sex
with one of their illusions. Even less so, for at least these humans could
be made to believe they were having sex with their mind-phantoms.

Brent seized Nova by the elbows and kissed her. She kept her mouth shut
tightly and tried to resist him but he grabbed her under the chin and
squeezed her jaw open and rammed his long tongue deep into her mouth as if
trying to choke her with it. She resisted, then relented and passionately
joined him, but he repelled her attempts to turn this sex into sentimental
reciprocal "lovemaking" by jamming his tongue into her mouth even harder
while twisting her beautiful brown aureoles painfully with his other
hand. She squirmed and tried to push him away, but he tossed her to the
ground and leaped onto her, holding her by the wrists as he maneuvered his
throbbing cock toward her slick, tight hole. She struggled and fought and
tried to bite him but he held her still, and just laughed at her.

Then he thrust his cockhead into her tight pussy. It was obvious that while
she was no virgin, she was no slut either. Her pussy was young and tight
and relatively inviolate. If Taylor had fucked this bitch he hadn't used
her up. Just a few inches in and already she was screaming. This was going
to be fun. He'd never fucked a woman in anger before. He'd been tempted,
but had always refrained out of some antiquated and artificial notion of
being a gentleman. But the apes, and the animal humans, and even the
mindfuckers - especially the mindfuckers - had convinced him that the
gorilla general Ursus was right - power was all that mattered. And he had
that power over this bitch now, and he was going to use it. And she would
love it.

He pulled his large cockhead out of her warm, tight, dripping cunt and then
thrust it back in hard, about four inches into her this time. Then twisting
his hips in an oval motion, his entrenched cock stretched her pussy lips in
every direction, massaging her clit indirectly as her labia were yanked and
twisted. She moaned with pain and pleasure simultaneously. The mutant
mindfuckers were ordering him to rape her, but for him that didn't mean
just to brutalize her - it meant to fuck her against her will but make her
enjoy it. Mock his manhood, would she? He planned to make her beg for it
instead!

He started thrusting deeper and deeper into her, twisting his hips as he
did to tug on her labia and cunthole, rubbing her clit with each downward
thrust and upward withdrawal, all the while supporting himself on one arm
while squeezing her tits with his free hand. Nova still struggled but now
only half-heartedly. Her pussy was tightening and yet slicker than ever as
her juices flooded her hole and pussy lips and the smell of her shot up
Brent's nostrils like the wildest drug a man had ever snorted. In response
he thrust his cock in to the hilt, until his thick straw-colored pubic
forest mashed into her own small nut-brown bush and the hairs became
entwined.

She screamed and trembled both with pain and with the pleasure of a
mind-ripping orgasm. The mindfucker mutants experienced her orgasm like a
rush of pure pleasure, purer than her own because they were as turned on by
her pain as by her pleasure, whereas her pleasure was tempered by physical
pain and betrayal. She had felt tenderness toward Brent akin to the love
she felt for Taylor, she had desired him even more, but now she hated him
as much as any ape. And yet lusted for him more than ever. Unable to
articulate or analyze her feelings, she could not act on them, and just lay
there tossed between agony and ecstasy as this brutal man thrust his long
meat-club into her.

Brent too felt himself on the verge of orgasm but held back. Unlike Nova,
he was very experienced in the sex act, and he had mastered self control in
the sack as well as he ever had on the football field or the battleground,
or in a "spam can" orbiting the earth. He would come when he was good and
ready. This bitch thought he wasn't man enough for her? He was going to
prove to be too much man for her when he was done. First he'd have her
begging him (mutely of course) for more; then he was going to have her
begging him to stop. She'd already come half a dozen times and he intended
it to be a full dozen at least.

The mutant mindfuckers, meanwhile, were on an orgasmic telepathic roller
coaster the likes of which they had not known was even possible. Not only
were they experiencing the emotional and raw carnal sensory explosions of
painful pleasure that Nova was feeling, but they also were indulging in
Brent's controlled escalations of pleasure right up to the threshold of
orgasm, at which point he abruptly pulled back and restrained himself from
experiencing release, as if he were teasing the mutants when in fact he was
just trying to prolong his own pleasure for as long as he could hold
out. The mutants were not accustomed to this level of pleasure, however,
and were growing increasingly agitated. They flooded his mind with images
of women from his life in the throes of orgasmic pleasure, trying to get
him to come and release them from this thrill ride, but nothing could
compete with the real flesh and blood Nova he saw in a real orgasmic state
under him now.

Pull out! the mutants commanded him. Pull out and perform the final
humiliation on her her!

Brent wanted to prolong this indefinitely but couldn't fight a direct
mental order from the mutants. With one final, deepest thrust Brent sent
Nova into a howling convulsion of pleasure, then he withdrew his throbbing
rod from her. Pinning her arms against her body with his knees, the hair on
his asscheeks tickled by her hard nipples, he jerked his foreskin back and
forth rapidly, aiming his penis at Nova's beautiful but fearful face. He
shot load after load of jism full force into that gorgeous face, until it
was so covered with thick pools of cum that her beautiful mug looked like
that of a wax doll that had melted into white paraffin in the face of an
intense heat. Brent stood up and pushed her over with his foot, looking at
his handiwork and laughing at Nova. He squeezed a final spasm of cum out so
that it landed perfectly in her gaping mouth.

Nova sputtered and coughed and spit out the salty seed and turned her face
away in shame as Brent laughed even louder. The mutants, mentally and
emotionally spent from their unprecedented remote control orgasm, released
Brent from mental bondage. Realizing what he had just done, he dropped to
his knees and tried to apologize to Nova, but she just turned away from
him, repulsed. His chin fell to his chest and he closed his eyes as his
world turned into a black cinder of shame.

He rolled over onto his bare ass, his massive cock now lying like a limp
wet snake on his thigh and his balls resting on the cold stone floor. He
looked up at the hated mutants. They'd won. They could have their precious
nugget of information, damn them. And he was now only too happy to give it
to them.

"The apes are marching on your city, you sick bastards. Now. And they plan
to wipe you out."

Part IV

Brent was still caught between states of semi-shock and angry nihilism two
hours later as one of the mutant pricks, the one called Ongaro, led him
down a long hallway decorated with busts of what were apparently famous
mutant human leaders from the past. He was saying that contrary to their
promises, Brent knew far too many mutant "secrets" - "like your friend" -
to be let go now. What the hell? Hadn't they figured out that Nova couldn't
possibly communicate any mutant "secrets" to the apes even if she wanted
to? And with the apes about to invade their hidey-hole, how long did they
think those secrets would matter anyway?

But he had come to expect nothing but paranoid lies from these mutant
creeps anyway. The idiots worshipped a goddamn bomb, for crying out loud!
They'd made him and Nova wear white gowns like they were priests or virgin
sacrifices or something, and made them sit there and watch as they
worshipped a goddamn nuclear bomb. And then... they took off their lifelike
masks and "revealed their inner selves" - hideous faces with flesh like
molten wax. Why did they preserve their human appearance? Were they so
ashamed of what they had become? Their telepathic powers made them think of
themselves as possessing radically superior intelligence, but that all
seemed to be a defense mechanism to cope with their own hideousness. In
truth, they didn't have the engineering skills of a college sophomore nor
the imagination of a comic strip writer. As far as Brent was concerned they
were as stupid and brutal as the apes.

The jail cells he saw now confirmed him in this belief. The bars were
punctuated with large, deadly spikes. The hatred toward flesh was manifest
in those spikes.

Now he was being admitted into one of these cells, but... there was someone
else in here, a large human... another mutant to mind-torture him? No, no
it was...

"Taylor!"

"I... I know you. You're... Brent! "

For a split second, Brent thought, well of course you know me - I was
second alternate on your flight. We trained together for years, although I
was just a young pup to you and the other WWII-era guys...

"Taylor!"

"Brent!"

The two men grasped each other by the shoulders and biceps in an awkward
American male version of a hug.

"How in God's name did you get here?" Taylor asked.

"The same way you did - spaceship, time warp, Ape City, underground
tunnels..." said Brent.

"How did you know where to start looking?"

"Nova led me to the apes, then we escaped here."

"Nova! Where is she? Is she with you?" Taylor was almost as excited by this
news as he was by the sight of Brent.

"I don't know," said Brent, suddenly reluctant to discuss the woman he'd
raped just a few hours earlier. Taylor's woman. But he determined that full
disclosure was the only honorable course of action. "I don't know where she
is now. They separated us after making us watch this worship ceremony for a
bomb. Taylor," he said now, his voice cracking with emotion, "they made
me... do things to her. First they tried to make me kill her... then
they... they made me violate her... I... I..."

But the look on Taylor's face stopped him, for which he was both relieved
and yet anxious. Taylor was looking at the tall mutant who had placed Brent
in their cell. He was watching them... listening to them... and the look on
Taylor's face told Brent that he had said something that was as bad as an
open invitation to punishment to a mutant.

"Mr. Brent. Mr Taylor." he said. "We are a people of peace. We do not kill
our enemies. We get our enemies to kill one another. We don't violate our
enemies. We get our enemies to violate each other."

Brent looked quizzically at Taylor, who for some reason had a look of
horror on his face. Taylor slowly backed away from Brent, and then Brent
shared Taylor's horror, for he now came to realize what Taylor knew
immediately from many long and painful interactions with this "people of
peace". Ongaro was about to force them to do violence to one another, just
as they had forced him to violate Nova. They were about to be mind-raped by
the mutant.

Taylor leaned up against a wall and braced himself to resist; Brent took
his cue from Taylor and did the same. But it didn't matter. Ongaro was one
of the most powerful of the mutant mindfuckers, and when he sent out his
telepathic streams, both men paid for their resistance with the
gutwrenching pain of being kicked repeatedly in the balls.

Images flooded Taylor's consciousness: fresh, vivid images of Brent fucking
"his woman", Nova. Causing her intense pain, and much worse, intense
pleasure. Nova came again and again as Brent thrust into her with his
young, virile body. Even worse, Taylor perceived that there was nothing at
all concocted about these images; there was no disbelief to suspend. These
were as fresh as if they'd been captured with a movie camera. Feelings of
rage at the treatment of Nova, at his own humiliating cuckolding, burned in
Taylor and his anger started to erupt to the surface.

But surprisingly, there was something else, Ongaro found. Taylor was also
intensely excited sexually. Curious, thought Ongaro. Taylor was certainly
aroused by the rough sex, but even then, there was something else. Playing
back the images in his mind, he focused on Brent's large, thrusting penis
and noticed Taylor's sexual agitation increase. Then he let the images
focus on the athletic contortions of the handsome, muscular Brent as he
grunted with each pelvic thrust, sweat sliding down his face and
torso. Then he focused on the images of Nova as her face watched Brent's,
her mouth uttering wailing sounds of intense erotic fulfillment. Ongaro
smiled, as excited as a mutant could get. He'd discovered a streak of
latent homosexuality in Taylor. The big, gruff, thoroughly masculine human
was as excited by the images of Brent as by those of Nova. He realized now
that they'd never uncovered this before because it was unknown even to
Taylor himself, and more importantly, the human men in this time and place
were all too ugly to interest Taylor sexually, and as far as Ongaro could
tell, only one human woman was good looking enough to warrant the interest
of a being from a time when humans had not been scarred by mutation and
de-evolution. Brent's coming had changed this. He was as handsome as Nova
was beautiful, and Taylor's response was attraction to both. As he played
back the images of Taylor and Brent's meeting, he realized that he had
missed the look of lustful appreciation as Taylor's eyes met Brent's, or
the way the larger man had pulled Brent closer and fondled his biceps
affectionately. It wasn't just excitement at seeing someone from his own
time and place; it was excitement at seeing a good looking human
male. Ongaro cheered to himself; the prospect of even more orgasms today!
In addition to his original command - "Brent raped your woman; avenge her
with his death" - he added, "Rape Brent! Avenge your woman by making him
learn how it feels to be violated too!" He smiled to himself as he felt
Taylor grow hot with excitement at this command. Revenge mixed with
forbidden sexual pleasure - what could be better?

The images Ongaro broadcast to Brent's mind were similar to those he had
initially implanted in Taylor's, and yet in a way almost the exact opposite
- they were of Taylor and Nova having gentle, loving sex; of Taylor talking
wistfully of running away and having a family with Nova; of Nova looking up
at Taylor longingly. All the things that the traditional, loyal Brent would
want that the renegade Taylor would take for granted and disdain. But the
message Ongaro broadcast carried the same appeal to greed, lust,
possessiveness, paranoia: "Nova should be your woman. You give her greater
sexual pleasure. You're younger, more virile than the flabby, graying
Taylor. You would make a better mate. She should bear your offspring, not
his." Then Ongaro played upon a vague sense of resentment he'd detected
upon Taylor's belated recognition of Brent - it seemed that Brent felt that
Taylor had risen through political connections and natural affability to
command the mission for which Brent had had to work tremendously long and
hard just to become an alternate, a substitute; that Taylor was so
self-centered and egotistical he didn't even notice the men under his
command. Ongaro jumped on this resentment and placed in Brent's mind images
of Taylor and Nova betraying him to the apes, selling him off for a
hunt. Ongaro was well aware of the price well-endowed human males brought
to ape sport hunters. Even as he suggested this possibility, Ongaro felt a
sharp spike of fear and paranoia rise in Brent; seemingly he had touched a
nerve. Was Brent aware of how apes proudly killed for human "horns"?
Apparently so. He continued to send images of Brent castrated and killed -
in that order - by hunter apes, and of Taylor and Nova enjoying the
proceeds from the sale of the hapless Brent.

As for Taylor, he now also flooded the older man's mind with images of the
helpless Brent forced to act as Taylor's sexual slave. Taylor's bloodlust
and sexual lust were now completely commingled. Ahhh, thought Ongaro. Let
the violence begin! Taylor had 4 inches and at least 50 pounds on Brent, so
Ongaro looked forward to some delicious sexual violence against Brent
followed by his death or, with luck, the deaths of both of these odd
humans.

Brent was the first to break. Taylor was more experienced at resisting the
mutants' mind control, and he was larger and was well-rested from endless
days of captivity. Brent was physically and mentally exhausted from his
recent ordeals and quickly gave in to the urges forced upon him by Ongaro,
urges that simply required the lowering of his own artificial civilized
defenses and the indulging of his own primitive urges.

Brent rushed Taylor like a madman, but Taylor ducked at the last
minute. Brent swung around and quickly aimed a punch at Taylor and barely
missed, but when Taylor tried to punch back, Brent grabbed his wrist in a
judo move, twisting the large man over painfully, and then kicked Taylor in
the gut. Ongaro was surprised. He assumed the larger man would dominate
easily, but Brent was younger, faster, and more muscular than the tall but
paunchy Taylor. He also seemed to be a very well trained fighter, as if he
had studied martial arts of some sort. Ongaro would let it play out for a
while, but if things were not going Taylor's way, he might have to
interfere. At this point Ongaro would not be denied another chance at
sexual gratification. These delicious opportunities were too rare.

Brent now sank his fingers into Taylor's throat, trying to choke him to
death. Taylor responded by forcing Brent's face away and tripping him over
his outstretched leg. Brent was slammed hard to the ground, the wind
knocked out of him. Taylor then kicked Brent in the gut with such force
that he was lifted off the ground and thrown into one of the walls of the
cell, narrowly missing a set of spiked bars. Taylor had deliberately aimed
the human football of Brent into the wall and not the spiked bars; he
didn't want his victim to be hurt or killed before he had his way with
him. If Brent was going to be impaled, it would be by Taylor's own big
"spike".

Taylor descended on Brent, trying to choke him into unconsciousness or
otherwise weaken him enough to render him helpless, but Brent was able to
twist his leg upward so that he could plant his foot in Taylor's face and
kick him away. Taylor landed on his back but the big man sprang up more
quickly than the onrushing Brent anticipated, and so was able to place a
leaping kick in Brent's stomach. Brent again landed on his back but this
time was able to move out of the way of Taylor's kick to his side, throwing
Taylor off balance. Brent leaped up and out of the way but as he did so
Taylor reached out to grab him. Missing Brent, Taylor only snagged his
loincloth, which was torn off as Brent fled in the opposite
direction. Brent whipped around, furious at his inadvertent disrobing, his
cock and balls flopping from thigh to thigh.

Taylor looked at the loincloth, then at Brent, and laughed. "No wonder Nova
was so afraid of you! She didn't know what that little worm between your
legs was! You're a little man in every way, Brent," Taylor mocked, although
secretly he was both jealous of the length of Brent's manhood and turned on
by it. (And those fat, low-hanging balls - why was it skinny guys always
had such big balls?) Like Brent himself in comparison to the beefy Taylor,
the smaller man's dick was slender in comparison to Taylor's own, however -
a point Taylor couldn't wait to drive home. In every way.

"From what I've been told, she was probably scared because she wasn't used
to a man - since she'd been getting laid by a boy with a little 6-incher,"
Brent fired back.

"You'll see how little it is when you take my beercan cock up your skinny
little ass, bitch," Taylor shot back.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, you faggot? Well, then, let's see it,
Taylor. Let's see whether you really are a big man after all or - or if
you're just a fat old fairy."

Brent charged Taylor, hoping to use his speed to turn the larger man over,
but Taylor was ready for him. He grabbed Brent around the throat again and
bashed his head against a wall. Brent was momentarily stunned, but quickly
recovered and pulled Taylor's astronaut flight jacket halfway down his
arms, pinning Taylor's arms to his side. Brent used Taylor's momentary
"disarmament' to land a haymaker in Taylor's bare, hairy gut.

Surprisingly, for all the fact that Taylor was somewhat flabby, Brent's
fist was met with more resistant muscle than he expected, and Taylor was
not taken out by the gut punch. He moaned "Oof" and bent over a bit but
quickly whipped off his jacket and tossed it aside. He was now stripped to
the waist, and, arms out in front of him, he charged Brent again. But this
time the speedy Brent stepped out of the way and, as, Taylor passed him, he
yanked the older astronaut's pants down to his knees, exposing the white
boxer shorts that were a part of the regulation astronaut uniform. The
charging Taylor, moving quickly, missing his target, and suddenly losing
the flexibility in his knees and the use of both legs, flopped to the
ground face first, with Brent immediately behind him, pouncing on the small
of his back. Brent had grabbed Taylor's right arm and had wrenched it up
his back, and had now grabbed the left arm and had twisted it by the thumb
to pull it alongside his right. Taylor, his legs wrapped up in his pants,
and his arms pinned behind his back, had no choice but to quickly work off
the pants with his bare feet, kicking the pants across the room as they
slid off his ankles. Brent, focused on holding Taylor immobile by his big,
burly forearms, was thus unprepared as Taylor raised his right leg up to
the small of Brent's back to push him forward even as Taylor slammed his
head back, hitting Brent square in the forehead and dazing him. Brent,
momentarily stunned, released his grip on Taylor's arms and Taylor took
advantage of the situation to rip his arms free and toss Brent off his
back.

Taylor then pounced on Brent, forcing him facedown into the floor of the
cell so that their roles were reversed, with Taylor sitting in the small of
Brent's back, wrenching one of Brent's arms behind him. Brent fought back
better than Taylor had, and almost rocked him off his back. Taylor, in no
mood to lose his prey now, grabbed Brent's scrotum in a chokehold and
yanked the stretched sac up into Brent's asscrack so that his balls looked
like they were a massive bulbous growth on his blond-haired bubble
butt. "Let go of my balls, you homo!" Brent howled at Taylor, but Taylor
just laughed and said, "Is that what you call them, little boy?" He then
spanked Brent's hard ass with the palm of his hand three times - first the
left cheek, then the right cheek, then the trapped balls. With the slap to
his balls, Brent howled like a wounded bull with pain and the steel in his
muscular arms went slack. Taylor ripped an arm off his flight jacket and
quickly bound Brent's limp arms behind his back, wrist to elbow. Brent was
now helpless before Taylor.

Taylor then jumped up as the dazed and dizzy Brent rolled onto his side in
a fetal position until the pain in his nuts subsided, and then worked
himself onto his knees, trying to free his trapped balls, which fell from
his asscrack and flopped against his dangling cock. He tried to get up on
his feet but was too weakened to do so without the aid of his arms, which
were now securely bound. Giving up, he finally raised his head to look up
at the big, hairy man looming over him. He was shocked to see that Taylor's
underwear were tented out by a large erection. Taylor just smiled
menacingly at the prostrate Brent, and then peeled his underwear off to
reveal his engorged penis, somewhat short but seemingly as fat around as a
coke bottle. The head was short but broad, and his penis was circumcised.

"My God," Brent said, "you really are a homo! You really do want to screw
me! Get away from me, you, you goddamn fairy!"

Taylor just smiled and said, "No Brent, I'm not a homo, it's just that
you're a pussy and not a bad looking one at that. You fight like a woman,
you act like a woman, you've got a pretty little face like a woman, and you
even have sweet little puffy nipples like a woman! Well, more like a
teenage girl, I'd say. And I need a blond to go with my brunette. You know,
here the gorillas all have harems. Well, I'm going native."

Brent groaned, and in a defiant drawl said, "For the love of God, Taylor,
don't even think about it. Just kill me and be done with it."

Taylor walked over to the prostrate Brent and, grabbing him by the hair in
the back of his head with one hand, used the other hand to slap him across
the face with his rigid, turgid cock. Brent turned his head away in
disgust, grunting "NO!" through clenched teeth, but Taylor forced his face
back around to confront the gleaming glob of precum building up on the tip
of the fat, flat mushroom shaped head of his obscenely wide and thick cock.

Brent closed his eyes and pushed his head back away from the looming
member, but Taylor just laughed and forced his cock toward Brent as he
forced Brent's head toward his cock, until he poked Brent's closed left eye
with the glans and smeared his dribbling precum across Brent's nostrils and
lips. Brent jerked his head out of Taylor's grasp and turned his face to
the side and downward, spitting what he could from his lips and shaking his
head as if he could shake the other man's juices from him like he shook off
his own sweat.

Taylor laughed and cupped Brent's rugged square jaw in his large hand. With
his thumb he traced over Brent's lips tenderly, smearing the precum onto
his thumb, and then he poked his thumb into Brent's mouth unexpectedly,
forcing it around the inside of his mouth, along his tongue, and toward the
back of his mouth toward his throat. Brent shook his head violently,
pulling away from Taylor's thumb. Facing down and away from Taylor, he spit
out repeatedly, then turned to face Taylor, snarling, "The next time you
stick a body part in my mouth, you son of a bitch, I'm gonna bite it off!"

Taylor just laughed and placed his large, bare right foot between Brent's
knees, under Brent's plump dangling balls. With his big toe Taylor poked
and prodded the hanging orbs. Brent braced for an assault on his balls, but
unexpectedly, Taylor proceeded to kick Brent's knees farther apart, then
walked behind the puzzled, helpless astronaut. When Brent was unable to see
him, Taylor placed his large hands on Brent's shoulders and forced him
down, so that his bare asscheeks landed on the cold stone ground behind him
and his balls plopped to the ground in front of him. Taylor then walked
around in front of Brent and, putting his large right foot on top of both
Brent's balls at once, stepped on them with enough force to send a jolt of
pain - and fear - through Brent's mind, but not enough to do permanent
damage. He then rolled them around on the ground, again with not enough
force to ruin Brent's manhood but forcefully enough to let Brent know that
he could in fact do so with ease if he wished.

Then, once again grasping Brent's jaw with one hand and his own big cock
with the other, he said, "You're a tough guy, Brent. You're fighting me off
pretty good. It would be a lot easier for me to deal with you if you
weren't a man. Well I can make that come true very quickly if you don't do
as I say right now. Do you understand?"

"Go to hell, you faggot bastard!"

Smirking, Taylor began to mash and twist his foot against Brent's balls as
if he were grinding out a lit cigarette. Brent howled and moaned with the
pain. Taylor had no intention of castrating Brent just then - after all, it
was Brent's manhood that he desired. But he needed to break this stud, and
this was the way to do it. Unbeknownst to Taylor, Ongaro was in any case
ready to force him to quit if he did go too far, but he perceived that
Taylor merely wanted to frighten the smaller man into submission.

"If I apply just a little more pressure, we're going to be calling you
Brenda," Taylor sneered. "Now, I'm going to stick my pecker in your mouth
and if I feel so much as a molar, I'm going to make an omelet out of your
little pink eggs. Understand?"

Brent looked up at Taylor, enraged but also, he knew, impotent. For a
second their eyes met and a short contest of wills took place as their
stares engaged in a Mexican standoff, Brent gritting his teeth defiantly
and Taylor smirking contemptuously. But Brent blinked first, nodding and
lowering his head in shame. Taylor just lifted his jaw and commanded, "Face
me, bitch!" Brent lifted his eyes and met Taylor's again, but this time
Taylor saw in those bright blue orbs submission, the acknowledgement of
Taylor's mastery of him, at least for the moment. Taylor squeezed Brent's
jaw open and Brent did not resist, and when Taylor placed the tip of his
cock inside Brent's mouth, Brent didn't jerk his head away or try to bite
as he had threatened. Instead Taylor found Brent's hot, wet mouth as tight
and delicious as any pussy he'd ever had. Brent instinctively knew to relax
his throat muscles so that he wouldn't gag as Taylor pushed more and more
of his fat slab into Brent's mouth. His dick wasn't long, as Brent knew,
but it was so thick it could barely fit into his mouth. Brent felt like he
was trying to put his lips around a rubber-coated beer bottle.

Ongaro was tingling with excitement. Although the mutants had no sex
organs, their libidos were still intact, a vestige of their "primitive"
genetic heritage, and it took all their religion could dish out for them to
sublimate their sex drives. Some of their more reflective members, in
moments shielded from the thoughts of others, wondered if perhaps their
repressed sexuality found perverted expression in the worship of a phallic
bomb-god, and in their delight in the control and torment of
others. Ongaro, however, was not one of these reflective types. He was a
true believer, in his own righteousness and in the righteousness of the
Holy Weapon. And right now, that righteousness and his libido were
perfectly in sync. This torture was delicious - and just.

Taylor was now starting to slowly grind his massively swollen penis in and
out of Brent's mouth. The younger man's lips and cheeks were drawn as tight
as a drum by the sheer thickness of Taylor's meaty dick. Brent closed his
eyes and tried to imagine himself in another place, but Ongaro taunted him
with images of Taylor mouth-fucking him that were as vivid as if he were
watching a movie of his own degradation. His own penis had shriveled up in
shame, a fact that amused Ongaro. Taylor had figuratively emasculated his
sexual rival; there was no need for the real thing. Let the apes engage in
such physical savagery.

Watching Brent helpless below him, his rugged, masculine, but very
beautiful face; his wiry, muscular body; his soft, convex, almost feminine
nipples; his big cock and balls -- Taylor felt a profound sense of sexual
satisfaction. Finally his full sexual nature was revealed to him. Taylor
appreciated the beauty of both sexes, and loved dominating both, especially
males. Conquest of a male was so much more difficult - and rewarding. Women
you could caress and dominate lovingly, possessively, protectively; they
were smaller and weaker and soft. Men were hard, all gristle and sharp
angles and wiry hair and bone. They were a real contest. And Brent was
quite a contestant - and a hell of a trophy. Taylor knew now why he'd
always ignored Brent when they were in the ANSA academy and training
programs together, why he'd snubbed him and excluded him from his little
clique, why he'd avoided him in the locker room and refrained from looking
at him in the showers entirely. He was the hottest man in a program
stinking with nothing but alpha - hell alpha-plus - males. To think about
Brent for ten seconds straight would have forced Taylor to acknowledge his
attraction to him, and that would have forced him to come to grips with his
bisexuality, something he'd hidden well from everyone, even himself. He now
realized that in the back of his mind he'd always wanted to be able to
stare at Brent, to drink in his attractive male form the way he allowed
himself to indulge himself in leering at equally gorgeous women.

Taylor was now starting to face-fuck Brent faster and harder, grabbing him
by the ears and slamming his dick into the blond man's mouth with such
force that he jammed pubes up Brent's nostrils with each thrust. He felt
himself on the verge of coming when a command shot through his brain like a
live wire: "You cannot ejaculate in his mouth - you must first breach
Brent's virgin anus. I will not let your mind come, and your mind will not
let your body come."

That was all Taylor needed to "hear" to know what he needed to do. He
pulled his fat dick out of Brent's slobbering mouth. Brent lowered his face
in shame and coughed and drooled, then looked up at Taylor with a look of
bewildered hurt. "Cough! Cough! Arggh, Taylor, please stop this. For pity's
sake, I can't.... a man can't..." Brent was babbling, but Taylor just
laughed at him and, lifting his foot off Brent's balls, placed it on the
back of his neck and pushed his face down to the floor, his ass forced up
in the air. He placed his foot across Brent's face and ground it slowly
into the stone floor, as he had Brent's balls, and laughed at his
domination of this fellow stud.

Bending down, Taylor now wiped the slobber from Brent's lips and beard with
his right middle finger and then reached across to the more heavily furred
crack between Brent's lightly furred asscheeks, rubbing his wet finger up
and down this crack, teasingly in Taylor's mind, menacingly in
Brent's. Ongaro was filled with ecstasy at the contrast in their reactions
to the event. Taylor then reached back up to Brent's lips and, holding
Brent's head by a rough grip on his beard so that he couldn't pull away, he
ran his finger back over Brent's lips, at once moistening his finger and
forcing Brent to smell and taste his own virgin asshole. Then he slid the
finger into Brent's resistant mouth, but encountered, of course, no
teeth. The dull pain in his balls reminded Brent of the dangerous futility
of that course of action. In effect, Taylor was forcing Brent to lick his
own asshole.

"Get it good and wet, boy, because that's all the lube your socket's gonna
get."

Brent grunted in disgust but kept slobbering on the fat middle finger all
the same, until Taylor pulled it from his mouth and then bent over Brent's
prostrate form again. He slid the finger up and down the bare hairy
asscrack, and this time teased the tiny pink rim of his asshole with a
gentle circling motion. He brought the finger back up to Brent's lips and
again rubbed them, and separated them, and forced his finger into Brent's
mouth again, and Brent slobbered over it again. Taylor pulled the finger
out again and once more worked over Brent's asscrack, this time focusing on
lubing up the asshole as much as he could from the outside. Then Taylor
slid the first knuckle of his finger into Brent's tight asshole. Brent
clenched reflexively, but Taylor ordered him to relax and he did. Then he
slid his finger in just a little farther and worked it around, neither
gently nor roughly.

Brent gritted his teeth and bore this new indignity as stoically as he
could, but Ongaro was again showing him this scene as it was viewed from
his own eyes. As a former college athlete, then an Air Force pilot, and
then an astronaut, he'd been poked and prodded in physicals all his adult
life. Even though still years away from concerns about enlarged prostate,
he'd had fingers shoved up his butt for as long as he'd been in government
service. And unless the doctor had unusually big digits, it was never
actually painful. It just felt uncomfortable. And it was extremely
humiliating.

Taylor's prodding was similar but worse. It was not actually painful,
despite Taylor's having the dreaded large fingers. It was
just... uncomfortable. It felt horribly wrong to have another man poking
his most private place. And... it dawned on him that what made him most
uncomfortable was that at times it actually felt good.

Brent knew that both a man's sphincter and his prostate could feel
downright pleasurable if carefully massaged. He once had a doctor tell him
not to be embarrassed if he had an erection when being probed. Brent had
laughed and said that was awful damn unlikely, but then the doctor had gone
on to give him a rectal exam that... well he'd be damned if it didn't feel
downright soothing. He hadn't obtained an erection - his dick actually
shrunk a bit in the cold - and the doctor looked a little
disappointed. (Brent didn't think the doc was queer, only that he liked
making guys get hard and embarrassing them over it, his own little
amusement.) But damn if that doctor didn't make getting a prostate exam
feel as good as getting a back rub! And this he realized was what made it
so uncomfortable: not so much the feeling that it might hurt, or just feel
odd, but the fear that a man might actually enjoy it.

Brent was not enjoying it now. Taylor had none of the ass doctor's
gentleness, or his interest in tricking his victim into arousal. Taylor, he
knew, was just trying to loosen him up.

Just then the door swung open and Ongaro stood there holding something
brought to him by another of the mutants. He tossed it to Taylor, who
caught it and, examining it, smiled. It was a vial of some sort. Taylor
opened it and scooped out handful of some kind of thick, translucent gel
from it. It smelled vaguely medicinal. He then bent over Brent again and
started working it up and down Brent's asscrack, and then into his
asshole. It was soothing and arousing at the same time. But contrary to
Ongaro's apparent intent and expectations, neither it nor the images of
himself being fingered like a helpless woman did anything to arouse Brent
sexually. Quite the opposite in fact. He felt as if he were being dressed
like a Thanksgiving turkey, and about to be stuffed with sausage.

That was the case. Taylor smeared the ointment all over his fat schlong
now, and moaned with pleasure as the warmth of it soaked into the swollen
rod. "Okay, Brent, kiss your manhood goodbye," Taylor said, half snarling,
half chuckling. "In a minute you're going to be my bitch." He stood behind
Brent and lowered himself to assault Brent's virgin asshole.

"Please Taylor, fight their mind control!" Brent begged in a desperate,
last minute plea. "Don't do this, for God's sake, Taylor! Be a man!
Don't..."

But it was too late. Taylor had put the tip of his thick cock right up
against Brent's tiny, clenched, thoroughly greased asshole and had rubbed
it around, as if this would somehow tease and arouse Brent, who had simply
taken it as a sign that violation was imminent and had braced himself for
the assault. And then it came.

Taylor pushed the wide, flat head of his enormously fat cock into Brent's
tight virgin asshole until the glans passed the ring of sphincter muscle
and seemed to pop into place. Brent let out a loud, low guttural wail as
the pain and humiliation of his violation had broken past his stoic
defenses. "Arrrghhhawwaaawwwgawdstop!" he cried
out. "Gawwddammnnstopjeezusstop!" he moaned. But the helpless, pained
begging only spurred Taylor on. He slowly pushed his rod in all the way,
ramming it in hard to the last inch. Brent howled with the pain. Taylor
pulled back, all the way back to where the base of his glans was hugging
the tight ring of sphincter muscle, and then slammed his fat prick in all
the way to the hilt again, as hard as he could, mashing his thick, rough
pubes against the lighter blond fur of Brent's firm butt muscles. Brent
howled again, dropping his head and moaning in agony like a wounded bear.

Something was wrong. Ongaro was not enjoying this as he should. Brent's
suffering, his pain both physical and psychic, was interfering with his
enjoyment of Taylor's artificially prolonged sexual ecstasy. He wanted
Brent to feel pain of course, and even more to feel humiliated, but this
pain wasn't the kind that bled over to pleasure, nor was this the pain of a
man who was truly beaten and unmanned. This was the pain and humiliation of
a man who even now in the back of his mind was plotting revenge. Ongaro had
to do something or his fun would be ruined. But he was utterly confused
about what to do. Then it came to him. Of course. How obvious. The ultimate
humiliation for Brent, his ultimate domination and unmanning would be if he
were raped by Taylor - and enjoyed it!

This would be very easy for Ongaro to make a reality. After all, Brent's
own consciousness had given him all the clues he needed. These human males
had pleasurable nerve endings in their assholes and prostates, evolutionary
devices that the mutants no longer had. By amplifying the pleasure from his
sphincter and prostate and the rest of his rectal wall in the same way the
mutants amplified sound and other stimuli to increase pain, Ongaro could
make Brent's sphincter more sensitive than female labia, his rectum more
pleasurable when touched than vaginal walls, his prostate a giant
clitoris. With very little modifications to certain sensory processing
faculties of Brent's brain, he could turn Brent's asshole into a male
pussy. Better yet, a super pussy, more sensitive than the sex organs of any
woman.

For good measure, he would also make Brent's already sensitive, somewhat
feminine convex nipples several times more sensitive than they already
were, more sensitive than a woman's, so that in the hands of a skilled
lover he could be forced to orgasm on simple nipple play alone.

Ongaro concentrated hard for a few seconds and... then he smiled. He could
tell from a slight change in Brent's consciousness that the deed was done.

Brent could tell too. Bracing himself for another thrust from Taylor, he
was startled to find that it... didn't hurt a lot. He didn't feel like he
was being ripped in two, or torn up like an old sack. It didn't even feel
uncomfortable. It felt... good. Hell, it felt great! It had to be a fluke,
Brent thought, some weird defense his mind set up to spare him. But the
next thrust felt even better. And then... the next thrust touched his
prostate and Brent had a shot of raw erotic pleasure unlike anything he'd
ever felt before, and he could feel his penis swelling with hot
blood. Ongaro filled his mind with images of the naked Nova being fucked by
Brent, and his cock was instantly hard in response. Each thrust of Taylor's
fat cock was matched by an image of Brent's own cock thrusting into
Nova. It was like he were being fucked by an image of himself and he was
Nova. His macho personality was now forced to deal with his knowledge of
what it felt like to be fucked like a bitch - and enjoy it.

Then images of himself being raped by Taylor were intercut with images of
his rape of Nova. He was being trained (he knew but could do nothing about
it) to be turned on by mental images of himself being fucked like a
bitch. But he was helpless. The feeling of the cucumber-sized flesh prod
assaulting his man-pussy was as if his dick had been turned inside out and
fucked. And when Taylor crashed into his prostate, it was as if a giant
ecstasy button were being pushed deep inside him by a giant magical
finger. Again and again Taylor smashed into Brent, but now in addition to
the agonizing pain of having his asshole assaulted he felt a huge surge of
pleasure overriding it and transforming it. He wished he could masturbate
and relieve himself, but his bound arms kept him from even this simple act
of independence. And yet oddly there was something thrilling in his
helplessness too. Brent realized, to his horror, that his humiliation was
now complete. His manhood had been stripped from him. He was being fucked
like a passive fairy whore, and enjoying it.

For both Taylor and Brent, their cocks now felt as hard as steel and about
to burst apart. Their nuts were churning with dammed up seed. Both men were
in the throes of sexual ecstasy and unable to do anything about it, Taylor
because Ongaro prevented him from doing so mentally, Brent because he was
unable to relieve himself through masturbation.

But now that both men were dizzy with the seething psychic turmoil of
multiple semi-orgasms, even Ongaro had finally reached his limit. The
combined pleasure of his two sex slaves had pushed his libido to the edge,
and his very consciousness to the brink of sanity. He had to have them
experience release soon or it would be too much for him.

With all the concentration Ongaro could muster, he commanded Taylor to turn
Brent onto his back so that he could jerk him off as he fucked him. "When
Brent comes, you will come too. Like you have never come before."

Taylor pulled out of Brent and roughly turned him onto his back, so that
the spinal curve at the small of his back rested on his bound arms. "Enough
fucking you like a dog," Taylor growled. "You're my bitch now, and I'm
gonna fuck you like a woman!' For all his abusive and violent language,
however, Taylor ran his forefinger over Brent's lips tenderly and stared
into his soulful blue eyes. He hesitated, as despite the damned need for
release he felt he was also now feeling a twinge of remorse at what he'd
been made to do. And at how enthusiastically he had followed those
orders. But he couldn't help himself - Brent looked so damned delicious. He
looked over the helpless stud below him, from the handsome agonized face to
the firm, sculpted pecs and abs, to the muscular hairy legs and ass, and
thought the pressure in his nuts was going to cause his entire body to
explode with pleasure. He reached down to grab this stud he possessed, to
manipulate him like a toy, and grabbed the soft pointed nipples that rested
incongruously in Brent's firm, rock-hard pecs like rubber buttons on a
fighter jet's control panel. Control knobs, thought Taylor, yeah... I
control this bitch like a machine, like a toy, a boy-toy. He tugged and
twisted the almost-girlish nipples with extravagant gestures meant to feign
brutality, but with a soft touch that was designed to control his unwitting
sex-slave, and to exert that control through irresistible pleasure and not
intimidating pain. Brent's nipples, newly supersensitized by Ongaro's
mindfuck, were as pleasure-inducing as twin chest-clits. The once-proud
blond stud was unable to do anything but writhe and shudder and moan
helplessly as waves of conquering pleasure smashed into his consciousness
and his big balls swelled to bursting with the need for relief.

Taylor smiled at the effect he was having on his man-bitch. Brent was
moaning now, but he was no longer begging Taylor to spare him. "Taylor,
please... I need... release... please...." He looked Taylor in the eye,
then down at his own swollen dick - and Taylor's.  Or maybe it was toward
his own asshole.

Taylor laughed wickedly, possessed again by Ongaro's imperatives and the
imperatives of his own lust. He grabbed Brent's long bulging rod firmly and
pulled it back and forth painfully, occasionally sliding the foreskin up
and down teasingly - but just a little. "Oh you want... release? Well
you're gonna have to beg for it, bitch!" He dropped Brent's cock and cupped
his fist around Brent's huge swollen nuts, his ring finger gliding along
the underside of the tender, bloated genitals. "Beg me to fuck you!"

Brent swallowed hard and then, dropping his voice into a baritone whisper,
moaned, "Please Taylor, jack me off!"

Taylor squeezed Brent's nuts gently, not enough to hurt, but enough to
remind him that his commands should be obeyed. "No, bitch! Beg me to fuck
you."

Brent paused a second. Gulped.

"Taylor, please fuck me," he whispered, even lower.

"Louder, bitch."

"Taylor, please fuck me," Brent said, in a low but more audible voice.

"Louder!" Taylor said, again squeezing Brent's balls forcefully, but at the
same time dragging his fingertips along the undersides teasingly.

"Oh God Taylor fuck me!" Brent finally shouted.

"Where, bitch? In your mouth?"

"In... in my ass. Fuck me in my ass."

"You mean your pussy? Your cunt?"

Brent paused for a second and then said loudly, "Fuck me in my pussy,
Taylor! Fuck my man-pussy hard! And.. and rub my clit.. please rub my big
clit..."

"Beg!"

"Please Taylor, please, I'm begging you! Put your big fat man dick in my
little pussy! Rub my little clit. I'm your boy! I'm your bitch! Just fuck
me NOW! Fuck me, stud! Fuck me!!!"

"Okay, bitch! You asked for it!" Taylor had never been so sexually excited
in his life. He roughly picked up Brent's hairy, muscular legs by the
ankles and pushed Brent's bubblebutt up into the air, then expertly guided
his throbbing love rocket into Brent's tight black hole, and drove it in.

Brent and Taylor together groaned loudly with the throbbing pleasure that
joined them, and even Ongaro was now quietly moaning to himself in his
speaking voice, something the telepathic mutants never did. Taylor let
Brent's furry legs rest against his own furry chest and shoulders, propped
himself on one hand, and grabbed Brent's massive pulsing cock with his
other. Then he began to pump fist and hips together, fucking Brent hard in
his tight ass as jacked off Brent's big dick, matching stroke for thrust.

The two men were moaning and wailing in unison now, Brent's mind a torrent
of received images of Nova getting fucked by Taylor, of himself getting
fucked by Taylor, of himself fucking Nova, of Nova sucking him off, of Nova
masturbating herself while watching Taylor fuck him. Taylor's mind on the
other hand was focused only on his domination of Brent, but that was
enough. Brent in ecstasy, Brent in agony, either way the man was gorgeous
in the throes of pain/pleasure and watching him writhe helplessly under his
touch pushed Taylor to the brink of sexual madness. He thought he could
read Brent's mind, that he knew Brent was about to come...

"Brent," he moaned, "Goddamn gorgeous Brent, you stud Oh God you stud..."

Brent was likewise out of his mind, moaning, groaning, and howling, begging
Taylor to fuck him harder, to jack him harder, "Taylor! Fuck my cunt!
Harder! Oh gawd, harder, Taylor! Taylor! You're too much man for me! Oh
gawd Tayyyy-loorrrrr!" he shouted.

Then all hell broke loose on several fronts. Now in perfect sync, aided
only slightly by Ongaro's telepathic mind link connecting the libidos of
the three humans, he and Taylor both shot huge fountains of cum, Taylor's
warm seed rushing into Brent's tight rectum like a hot water hose, Brent's
shooting high into the air and landing on his stomach, his chest, and all
over his face and beard. The two men continued to thrash as they came in
wave upon wave of orgasm until Taylor fell onto him, exhausted, and they
huddled together in a sweaty, hairy heap of manly muscle, Taylor's cock
still swollen inside Brent, and Brent's cock still twitching in a large
pool of cum in a deep crevice between his abdominal muscles.

At the same time, Ongaro's erotic pleasure-torment had sent the mutant
interrogator into a state of uncontrollable libidinal ecstasy, and, unable
to control his mental powers any longer, he had unwittingly broadcast his
state of mind to all the mutants. No adult mutant was immune from the surge
of pure libidinal pleasure force, and they were all stunned as they
experienced the equivalent of a year of orgasm in a single spasm of mere
moments. Even the nonmutant humans felt this surge of psychic sex energy;
even the apes, about to descend on the underground city, felt it.

Meanwhile, Nova had been in transit to a prison cell far away from Taylor
and Brent when she heard Brent shouting "Taylor! Taylor!" She struggled
with the guard, but was unable to break his grip until, incomprehensibly,
his hold went almost limp and his eyes glazed over and he started to drool
through his rubber mask. She pulled away and ran to the place where she had
heard Brent's voice. There, in cell on the ground, were Taylor and Brent,
and they were naked and looked like they had been fighting, or fucking, or
both. Since (unknown to the golden haired men who talked to apes) it was
common for the alpha males of warring human tribes to fight as champions
with the loser being the sexual bitch of the winner, she wasn't sure. But
she was happy beyond measure to see them both.

"Tay-lor!" she shouted, the first time she had ever spoken.

This startled Ongaro out of his orgasmic coma, but he was so bewildered at
what had just happened that Nova just pushed him aside and ran to the two
men she loved. Released suddenly from Ongaro's spell, Brent and Taylor were
as bewildered as the mutant mindfucker, and were mumbling "Oh
Gawd... Gawd... Brent I'm so sorry..." and "Taylor, it's okay, I begged for
it. The bastard forced me to beg for it!" But when they saw Nova, their
concern for her snapped them back to the situation at hand. Brent was still
bound but Taylor jumped up and rushed the dazed Ongaro, forcing him into
the giant spikes on the cell bars behind him. Then he slammed the cell
door, also replete with spikes, backward onto Ongaro's front, creating a
makeshift Iron Maiden. The spikes impaled in Ongaro's mutant flesh held the
door to their freedom open.

Taylor then rushed over to Brent. Nova was already busy untying him, and
when Taylor joined in they had him freed in less than a minute. His ass was
bleeding a little, as was the corner of his mouth, and it hurt him to
stand, much less to walk. But Taylor helped him up to his feet and in a few
minutes he was able to walk well enough for them to plan their escape.

It was then that Brent noticed Nova studying his and Taylor's genitals. The
two men laughed and Taylor said, "Oh no you don't - we've blown our wads
for today." Brent - after all he'd been through - still blushed a little,
but Taylor seemed like a new man, as confident as ever but now... happy as
well. Now that he thought about it, Brent realized that Taylor had never
seemed happy to him before. Taylor retrieved his undershorts, pants, and
what remained of his shirt, and Brent's loincloth as well. "Here," he said,
handing the smelly animal skin to Brent, "you better cover up until you've
recovered enough to service Nova, or she won't give you a moment's
peace. I'm speaking," he said, winking, "from extensive experience."

"The apes are coming in the entrance Nova and I came in at what used to be
the Queensborough Plaza subway station." Brent said. "The mutants displayed
the scene as large as a movie screen for us to see... when they were done
torturing the information out of me."

"Well that's definitely not the direction we want to be going anyway," said
Taylor, "We need to get out of here by heading north. Some of the pacifist
chimps talk about the north as being still forested and sparsely
populated."

"But Taylor, they have a bomb. An atomic bomb!"

"Yeah, you mentioned it earlier... did you see the series numbers?"

"No, no numbers... just two Greek letters... Alpha and Omega. No wonder
they confused it with God. It was like something out of a Catholic mass."

"Oh no," Taylor said, "The bastards did it. The Doomsday Bomb."

"Doomsday?"

"Yeah, it's a cobalt bomb. Worse than a hydrogen bomb. We've got to get out
of here."

"But they'll wipe out all life on the planet," Brent argued. "We've got to
stop them!"

"No, it's just one bomb and it's limited to about a fifty mile
radius. Still hellish, but... we can get out of here... You lived in New
York when you were ANSA's liaison to the US ambassador to the U.N., didn't
you? Know the subways? I know there's now a small mountain range where
Manhattan seems to have been smashed into the Bronx by plate shifts. With
luck and a favorable wind, the mountains will protect us and we'll get away
from ape and mutant slavery altogether."

Brent was torn. As a US fighter pilot and astronaut he had been trained to
feel an obligation to stand and fight "the forces of darkness", to "fight
for life", and other vague grade school concepts. And ape and mutant alike
were as evil as anything he'd ever been taught to believe about communists,
or Nazis, or for that matter the Southern white racists of his
childhood. But here, in this time and place, he was conflicted about who to
fight and how. In the end, one look at Nova reminded him of who and what he
was really fighting for, and he realized that for the first time in his
life, fight meant flight.

"Yeah, if it's still there we can take the Lexington Ave line until it ends
up in the Bronx - from there, we'll have to head up through what used to be
Westchester County. Let's get the hell out of here then! But please
Taylor... don't tell me we're gonna be on horseback any time soon!"


Part V

It had been over a week since the trio escaped from the underground
city. They had in fact had amazing luck, escaping through the Lexington
Avenue subway train tunnel that now ran under a mountain range the size of
the Catskills. In various places the tunnel was so filled with debris that
they could barely squeeze through to the other side, but for this they were
thankful; the piles of fallen granite would help shield them from radiation
if the mutants - or apes - managed to detonate the bomb.

The battle for the underground city had raged on for days. No doubt the
mutants managed to hold out by tricking the apes into mistakenly killing
one another, but in the end, the apes' "thick skulls" - as the mutants
described the ape ability to resist their illusions and mind control - must
have won out, because the bomb was detonated, either by desperate mutants
seeking "salvation" or by blundering, power hungry apes. Even separated by
90 or so miles and several mountains, the trio heard the explosion, and saw
the flash of blinding light and the huge cloud of dust that rose in the air
and was borne away from them by the fortunate wind they had hoped for.

The trio made good progress. Brent and Nova were in excellent shape and
could run half the day, despite Brent's sore anus. Taylor had become
somewhat flabby and atrophied in prison, but it was actually his enthusiasm
brought about by his release - whether physical or sexual or both no one
was certain - that sustained them. His long legs helped him keep up with
his younger, fitter companions, and within a few days they were covering 30
to 40 miles in a day, having covered 90 miles the first two and one half
days before all collapsing in exhaustion for a rest day once they felt they
were clear of the threat of annihilation. It was on the end of this day of
rest that they saw the bomb's detonation, and once again started moving as
quickly as they could in the opposite direction.

After a few days the arid desert they had left behind became grassy plains,
and now they were entering a heavily forested area. Based on their path and
mileage, Brent guessed they were in far upstate New York or maybe Vermont,
close to what had once been the Canadian border. Here the devastation of
whatever ancient catastrophe had taken place in the past had somehow not
had as much impact. The forests seemed to be ancient now, with 2000 years
of growth interrupted only by the migrations of deer and elk, or so it
appeared from the trails they saw everywhere.

They came at last to what seemed to be a huge lake or inland sea, but when
Brent and Taylor determined that the water was moving steadily in a single
direction, and that that direction was northeast, they decided it was the
body of water they had once known as the St. Lawrence River. The three
journeyed southwest; Brent knew that if the river had been fundamentally
unchanged since he had lived in New York then it would narrow to a very
navigable width of a few hundred feet. Before long they could see land on
the far side of the river, and when they were at a point where the men felt
they could swim across, they spent a day helping Nova overcome her fear of
the water, taught her to float and then to swim, and together they made it
across. Brent and Taylor were both exceptionally strong swimmers and were
able to help Nova across without a great deal of difficulty. They then
proceeded to work their way inland until they came to a comfortable meadow
in the middle of an old-growth forest.

Exhausted from their flight, the trio set up camp, intending to rest for a
few days or even weeks before deciding what to do next, where to go. Aside
from the small animals they'd caught and eaten - it helped greatly that
Taylor had been a very enthusiastic hunter, although he bemoaned that he
was denied his gun collection, and Brent an avid fisherman - their only
sustenance came from the nuts, berries, and grasses that Nova collected for
them. Close to the water and forest wildlife, they would be able to hunt
and fish their way back to balanced meals. With their survival training,
Brent and Taylor set up an excellent shelter that would have made the Swiss
Family Robinson proud.

But now that their safety and survival was seemingly assured, the trio
turned their thoughts inward and the events of their captivity came rushing
back to haunt them. Nova was still somewhat afraid of Brent and yet at the
same time enormously attracted to him, but she felt a huge loyalty to
Taylor, to whom she was also still attracted, especially now that he'd lost
a few pounds and was smiling a lot. Her conflict over Brent was due to the
fact that although he had tried to kill her and had successfully forced sex
on her, she had eventually enjoyed having him ravish her, and he had
previously protected her and saved her life on multiple
occasions. Moreover, she believed he was not the perpetrator of her
attempted murder and subsequent violation, but a puppet used by the
two-faced ones. She had intuited that beings who hid behind masks could not
be trusted. And Brent had also somehow stopped himself from killing her and
fled her to save her from himself, and he seemed horribly saddened and
remorseful to this day for what he'd done.

Brent was likewise confused about his loyalties to Taylor - he feared a
repeat of the incidents in the underground city. There was no law to
protect him from a sexual predator here, and he'd already seen that despite
his martial arts training and his own strength and athletic ability, he
would likely lose again in a rematch with the larger Taylor, especially now
that Taylor had toned up during the previous week's ordeal. Brent was also
no longer merely attracted to Nova but head over heels in love with her,
and so he was again conflicted with regard to Taylor, since bisexual or
not, Taylor had first claim to Nova as his girl. At any rate, Nova seemed
to be as wary of him as he was of Taylor, and who could blame her? He'd
raped her, a fact that sent him into a gut-wrenching torment of guilt that
caused him to look shamefully away from her when all he wanted to do was
stare at her beautiful face and form for hours. Brent was, after all,
Catholic, and guilt came easily to him, even guilt for a crime he was
forced against his will to commit.

Taylor was in some ways both the most and least troubled. On the one hand,
he had to deal with the revelation that he was not what he had always
believed himself to be, a 100% heterosexual All American male. He now
questioned his judgment, his honesty with others as well as himself, even
his gender - back in the mid-20th century in which he'd been raised, a man
who was attracted to other men was not a real man but somehow something
else, part woman even. And yet, this traditional belief was at odds with
his newfound sense of honesty and the clarity that came from it: he felt as
masculine as ever, in fact more so, because he could now be frank and
honest with everyone including himself. That old-fashioned George
Washington-style honesty had a lot more to do with being a man, Taylor
thought, than how many women a guy slept with. Or for that matter how many
men.

Still, Taylor felt tremendously confused about what to do about Brent and
Nova. Brent would be the better husband to her, and Nova deserved not to be
conflicted about her men. But... Taylor thought to himself, you're starting
to be dishonest with yourself again. Those are only some of the reasons -
and possibly even minor ones - for his confusion about Brent and Nova. He
looked over at them now, lovingly. Brent had cooked a rabbit for them and
he was offering Nova a taste. She tasted it and the flavor was so good she
had a look of delighted shock on her face. Brent laughed, and then Nova
laughed and made signs about how sweet the meat was, and then Taylor
laughed too, and Brent looked up and smiled at him and so did Nova. No, the
truth was that Brent was in love. And Taylor was in love as well.

Later that evening, Brent came to Taylor while Nova was down at a nearby
creek washing. His stomach was churning with anticipation, worse than it
had been on his first date, worse than it had been when he went to ask the
famous politician for his daughter's hand in marriage (and she had then
gone and turned him down, something he had been utterly unprepared
for). But he had to do it.

"Taylor, you know, we've been through a lot the last few weeks," he
started.

Taylor laughed. He had a good idea what was coming and was amused by it,
and Brent's understatement amused him even more.

"You could say that," the older man smiled.

"Well, it's taken a lot of doing, but I think I have got back to where Nova
trusts me again."

"You always sell yourself short, you know that Brent? You always have. She
doesn't just trust you; she's in love with you."

Brent was not prepared for this. "You think so?" he asked in such a way as
to make it obvious that he didn't see how anyone could believe this. Taylor
smiled. How could a tough guy who'd been through so much still be so
innocent?

"Brent, what the mutants showed wasn't a lie - well parts of it anyway. You
could tell with them after a while - they could make good illusions but
they were damn poor storytellers. And what they showed me of your "raping"
Nova - well, Brent, that was no rape. Those mutant monsters certainly
intended it that way, but she had wanted you too badly for it to end that
way. She was scared of you because of the irrationality of your actions,
because you were controlled by them and she knew it, but the sex was
apparently just fine with her!"

"But, I..."

"She's been confused. We all have. She's not confused now. And I'm not her
father and I'm not her husband. You don't have to ask me for her hand. I'm
honored that you did, but let's face it - she deserves a heterosexual man
closer to her own age, not a confused bisexual guy who's old enough to be
her dad. Or at least her young uncle."

Brent laughed and looked up thankfully and admiringly at his friend. He had
come from a large family but had always been the eldest, the one who worked
to support his eight brothers and sisters after their father died (far too
young and far too stupidly). The one who had to excel, who had to be the
best, who worked harder and saved every dime and kept everything going
smoothly. He'd never had an older brother, or a father really. Taylor felt
like a little of both, and yet different. Maybe just a really good
friend. Something else he'd always been too busy and ambitious for.

"You know what, Taylor? What that sick mutant made you do to me? That was
the most evil thing that twisted monster could think of making you do to
me. He saw it as a way to destroy us both psychically. But when it was all
said and done - that was no rape either."

Taylor looked at him long and hard and tears began to well up in his
eyes. Tears of gratitude for Brent's forgiveness and expression of
friendship, of love. Taylor grabbed him and hugged him and Brent hugged him
back.

Nova came upon this scene and stood looking quizzically. Were these two
fighting again? Or were they preparing to make love again? The two best men
in the world, from her experience, and here they were all concerned with
themselves and not with her. Did no one care that it had been ages since
she had had sex? These two woke with huge erections every morning - did
they cuddle up with her to relieve themselves? No, they snuck off into the
woods and masturbated! What was wrong with them? What was wrong with her?
And Taylor is crying? Like a woman? Has Brent hurt him?

As she stood there looking at them, Taylor saw her over his shoulder and
laughed. Brent turned around and saw her and laughed as well. Taylor nudged
him and said, "Take the hut tonight. I'll stay in the lookout," referring
to the two structures they had built for their current bivouac. "You have
my blessing." Brent looked at him again and smiled and said, "Thanks" over
the lump in his throat.

Part VII

Brent's one indulgence in his disciplined, ambitious life had been
women. Once he had been turned down by Ann Myers he'd turned his attention
to dating and, if he was lucky, bedding, as many beauties as he
could. Unlike Taylor or his own brothers, he'd never settled down. What was
the point? He'd raised a family already. He'd been turned down by the only
woman he'd wanted to marry. He might as well give Hugh Hefner a run for his
money, and Hugh had more money and a big head start, so he had to "work"
that much harder...

So when he undressed Nova and made love to her that night, he planned and
executed his "campaign" as if invading a foreign country, or landing his
starship on a distant world. He brought to the mission all his experience
and expertise. He was determined to let her know how much he loved her by
treating her to sex worthy of a goddess.

First, he worked all day at creating a mattress for her hammock from the
skins he'd been saving from every animal they'd caught and eaten, stuffed
with the cotton-like balls of fiber that grew on plants resembling cattails
down by a nearby stream. He'd stitched the skins together with gut-string
he'd made from the intestines of the same animals. Then he had prepared her
hammock so that the two of them could have sex in a variety of positions on
it by stringing it from the four corners of the hut instead of only from
two.

Brent groomed himself as best he could for the occasion. He borrowed the
self-sharpening safety razor that Taylor had kept clean-shaven with - the
mutants were agreeable to his staying clean-shaven, as a talking human
should, so as to distinguish himself from the apes (although none of the
mutants had this concern, as they had no body hair), and the safety razor
was no weapon since the blade was sheathed and could not be extracted. (And
in any case the mutants had issued a command that it never be used as a
weapon, so Taylor couldn't weaponize it if he wanted to.) Brent also had
Taylor trim his hair military-short and combed it back with a fish bone. He
bathed and dressed in a new, cleanly processed loinskin of his own
making. Finally he filled the room with beakers of water - no wine
available - for when their mouths ran dry from kissing and oral sex, and
gathered dozens of pungent wild roses and dropped them in bunches around
the room until it smelled like a giant box of potpourri.

Nova had of course been delighted. No man before Taylor or Brent had ever
shown the least intelligence or creativity in any endeavor. These two men
were like gods in comparison. But this was entirely different - this was
one of the men expending his enormous creative powers not simply on
confounding stupid apes or escaping death or taming horses but on pleasing
her and nothing else. The concept of luxury, especially used as gift to
express affection, had been as unknown to her as human speech had been
before Taylor.

Although unaware of the occasion, Nova too had bathed and used native
depilatory flower buds and a pumice stone to remove the light hairs from
her legs and underarms, as she did every day. You could feel the softness
and smoothness of her perfectly tanned legs from 20 feet away.

As she stepped into the hut, Brent waited for her to come to him. He stood
there expectantly, wanting her to choose to be with him, as anxious as a
boy on his first date. But Nova didn't hesitate. She had sensed that Taylor
had blessed their union - Taylor had nodded for her to ascend the ladder
when she looked at him with this question in her eyes - and now walked
slowly over to Brent, looking him up and down as she went and feeling her
love-lips moistening with desire. She pulled off her top and let it drop,
her full, round, firm tits standing out in front of her, the aureoles two
inches across and the nipples as large as tiny fingertips. Brent didn't
reach for them, however; instead he gently cradled her jaw in his hands and
stared lovingly at her face, the sexiest, most beautiful part of her sexy,
perfect body. He stared into her big brown eyes and smiled, then lowered
his mouth to hers. She met his open mouth with her own, and their tongues
met and wrestled in mid-air before their lips ever met. Then their lips
touched and each closed upon the other.

As they kissed, Brent lowered his hands to Nova's plump, firm
breasts. Given his state of mind at the time that he last touched them, it
was as if he were caressing them for the first time, because he was like a
different man from the violent rapist those bastard mutants had turned him
into. He gently squeezed those gorgeous breasts together and let his thumbs
expertly tease the nipples, then added his forefingers to lightly pinch,
twist, and pull. Her nipples went hard and erect.

Nova pulled off her bottom and then removed Brent's. He was already hard as
a rock and she was soaking wet. She rubbed her soft wet cunt against his
hairy muscular thigh, the underside of his rigid cock pressing up against
her belly, the front of his cock pressed against his own crotch and stomach
as the two pulled each other even closer together. He could feel first the
warmth and then gradual coolness of her bodily fluids on his leg and his
own on his abdomen as the juices leaked from their bodies into the cool
night air.

Nova now gripped his round ass muscles and kneaded them, digging into them
with her deceptively strong fingers even though they were as firm as
sandbags. Brent lowered his lips to her nipples and teased and sucked them
until she moaned with pleasure. He squeezed her firm buttcheeks now and
then lifted her up by them, and gently placed her on the fur mattress on
the hammock that he had prepared for their lovemaking, her butt resting on
the inside edge, her legs already raised high in the air invitingly. He
stood in front of her, his throbbing dick in position to enter.

She grabbed his cock and pulled him even closer, until her butt touched his
thighs and his cock slid up over her cuntlips, past her clit, past her
pubes, almost touching her navel. She peeled his foreskin back, revealing
his large knob, and used the underside of his dick to massage her labia and
clit, his foreskin rubbing up and down his shaft as she did so. Brent
willed himself not to come on the spot, but Nova was unable to do so, and
she came, moaning and howling with pleasure until Brent's warm mouth
absorbed her passionate cries and calmed her down. But as soon as she had
sunk into warm post-orgasmic bliss, Brent began teasing her clit and labia
with his rigid shaft again, this time barely entering her pussy with his
large knob, stretching her tight hole and then withdrawing, only to prod a
little more, probe a little deeper, before withdrawing again. Soon Nova was
moaning and writhing with pleasure again, and then Brent sank his throbbing
dick all the way into her, causing her to scream with delight. He began
rhythmic, writhing thrusts, twisting his hips and waist as he pounded in
and out, and ramming harder and faster. He grabbed her breasts and kneaded
and twisted and sucked her nipples and then clamped his mouth on her lips
and thrust his tongue deep into her mouth. She responded by clawing his
hard, round pecs and massaging his nipples. When she touched his nipples,
which Ongaro had made ultra-sensitive in his attempt to turn Brent's
masculine body into a feminine receptacle for Taylor, the torrents of
pleasure overcame Brent and his cock swelled to bursting and exploded,
sending cups of steaming seed pouring into Nova, whose contracting labia
and swollen clit were likewise sending currents of orgasmic electricity to
her brain. Brent was so overcome with his orgasm he almost fainted, but he
could hear Nova's childlike voice screaming "Brent! Brent! Brent!" and he
was hard again, and he came again, and she too came again and howled his
name loud and long again.

Outside the hut, camped out in the lookout about a dozen yards from the
camp, Taylor couldn't help hearing the entire lovemaking session. He found
himself hard and then before he knew it he was masturbating. He couldn't
help himself; the two most beautiful people he'd ever known, two people he
was madly in love with, were having a world class fuck session just a few
yards away, and he could hear everything and pretty much visualize
everything too. He came just as Brent did, feeling almost as if he had
joined in on their lovemaking. But then he heard Nova shouting Brent's name
and he suddenly felt lonely again. That his girl was no longer his
exclusively he of course had accepted and even encouraged; that she was no
longer even his primarily he now seemed sadly forced to accept. But he knew
that soon - maybe already - she was no longer his in any way at all. And
the saddest part was, that this was not even the thing about this odd love
triangle that upset him the most. The love lost didn't weigh on him half as
heavily as the love he would never have.

The hut quieted down for a few hours, but when he heard Brent and Nova
fucking again in the middle of the night and then again in the early hours
of the morning, his sadness hardened into a final acceptance of his
situation and he knew that there was only one thing for him to do. And he
would do it the next day.

Part VIII

Late the next morning Brent and Taylor took off to the riverbank to fish
for the day's noon meal. Brent had struggled from the hut naked to piss in
the woods early in the morning; Taylor watched through half closed eyes as
the blond man's long cock and balls slapped against his thighs as he
stumbled through the brush. He'd then returned to the hut, some giggling
had ensued, and the couple had fallen asleep again. Taylor had risen, made
the fire, caught and prepared breakfast by the time the two emerged from
the hut sleepy eyed and grinning. To his surprise, Nova had run over to him
and kissed him, saying "Tay - lor, Tay -lor" as if she hadn't seen him in
years, but Taylor took her affection as a sign that Nova was thanking him
for the wonderful sex machine she had been given the previous night. Or
maybe she now felt the affection for him that a young girl feels for a
family patriarch. He was both touched and saddened by the gesture. The same
was true when Brent slapped him on the back and asked how he'd slept. Brent
regarded him as a buddy, at best as a brother; Taylor regarded him as a
lover. The same way he regarded Nova as a lover.

Once they had caught enough fish to ensure a hearty noon meal, the two men
relaxed and lay back in the cool grass. "That was some party you had last
night," Taylor chuckled, and looked at Brent. He felt a rush of affection
for the younger man when Brent blushed. Through all he'd been through, he
was still the All American gentleman, the aww-shucks boy next door.. "You
heard that, huh?" Brent responded sheepishly. Taylor laughed. "Heard it?
Hell yeah, I heard it. The whole damn continent probably heard it. I was
afraid you were going to wake Ursus and Ongaro from the dead!"

Brent laughed with him and then became quiet. After a few minutes, he drew
in a deep breath and started: "Taylor..."

"Brent, listen," Taylor cut him off. "I've been giving this a lot of
thought, and I think we need to go our separate ways. I'm a third wheel and
you and Nova belong together. I don't want to come between you..."

"Taylor, no," Brent said. "Nova isn't monogamous like that. Hell, these
humans just aren't. She loves you, too. We can both..."

"Brent, it's not Nova that I'm worried about. And really, it's not Nova
that I want. It's you."

This shut Brent up. He just looked at Taylor and smiled that sheepish
blushing smile again. Taylor continued: "It's not fair to you and not fair
to Nova. You too are young, in love, you'll have beautiful babies. And it's
not fair to me - wanting you both, but unable to have one of you at all and
probably not welcome with the other and always having to listen to..."

"Taylor..."

"... your lovemaking and wanting to be part of it but not..."

"Taylor...."

'able to be part of your lives, like an unwelcome shadow...

"TAYLOR!"

Taylor stopped talking and looked at Brent, who said, "It doesn't have to
be like that. Nova loves you; we can share her. Together."

Taylor just looked skeptically and said, "Yeah, and you can sit in the
woods and listen to me fuck her on odd days and I'll do it on even days
and..."

"Taylor, shut up and listen to me. I said: together. We can make love as a
trio. All together."

"Forget it Brent. You forget - I'm at least as attracted to you as I am to
her. What if I can't control myself again and..."

Brent laughed. "Okay, now just shut up and listen to me. What that damn
mutant did to you, we'll never know for sure, but he left you that way
because he died before he could release you from his mindrape spell. Maybe
you had just a little bit of homo in you that he amplified, and that's why
you think you're so in love with me. Hell, I don't know."

Taylor smiled, but shook his head. "No, Brent, I realized it's always been
a lot more, a lot deeper than that. I think I fell in love with you the
first time I ever saw you. And my snubbing you was the only way I could
deny that to myself."

"Well, it doesn't matter," Brent said matter of factly.

"The hell it doesn't," Taylor responded.

"No, Taylor, it doesn't, because that damn mindfucker left me in a state
too. My ass is as sensitive as a pussy, my prostate is like a giant clit
that can't hardly be touched. If I'm thinking of a hot chick when I take a
crap I have an orgasm. And my nipples are probably more sensitive than any
woman's who ever lived. Last night I had the greatest sex of my life and
yet I knew it could have been even better. Here I was being the stud of the
century with the most beautiful woman on the planet and I still knew that I
could have had twice the pleasure if I'd been getting my ass fucked like a
bitch at the same time.

"What I'm saying Taylor, is that Nova would love to have you in our
lovemaking sessions, and I would too. If you screwed me while I screwed
her, you'd be getting off, she'd be getting off, and I'd be getting it from
both of you. Maybe I'm just greedy, but it seems like not only the solution
to our little love triangle, but also to our survival. We all three need
each other, Taylor - to survive physically, yes, but also to survive
emotionally and sexually."

Taylor said nothing. Brent was always the optimist, always the problem
solver. Taylor was more realistic. But there was nothing to lose by trying.

He laughed and ruffled Brent's hair affectionately and said, "You're
something else, buddy. You really want to keep our little family together."
And then he bent forward and kissed Brent on the lips, trying to thrust his
thick tongue into Brent's mouth. Brent pushed him away and said, "Taylor,
one thing I'm not going to do is kiss a man. I'll get screwed by one,
sure. But I don't kiss men," he laughed. Taylor was a little taken aback,
but laughed weakly too. "Not on the lips," Brent continued. "I'm not your
girlfriend. If you want to kiss me, you can just kiss my ass," he said,
still laughing. And he peeled off his loincloth and lifted his knees to his
chest. Taylor just laughed and said, "Yes sir, right away sir" and began
tonguing Brent's asshole in mock-obedience, sending Brent into spasms of
orgasmic pleasure as he shut his eyes and envisioned Nova getting her cunt
eaten out by Brent himself. Taylor then drove his massive engorged prick
into Brent and played with Brent's own swollen cock until both men came all
over one another.

Afterward, lying on the grass, Brent said, "John." Taylor said, "Hmmm?"

"John, my name is John. John Christopher."

"I had a younger brother named John. My favorite brother, in fact. Call me
George."

"Nice to know you, George."

"Likewise, John. Johnny."

"Poor Nova, now she has to learn two more names. She's still trying to get
a handle on Taylor and Brent."

"Well, these names will just be between us then. For moments like this."
Taylor liked the idea of having something special with Brent, something
just between them. As, truth be told, he knew he still had with Nova in a
way.

"It's a deal. So you're willing to try to make this work?"

"If you're willing to have an old man in your twisted love triangle, I'm
willing to put up with you two puppy lovers."

Brent chuckled and clapped Taylor on the back and the two men rose and took
their catch back to camp. Brent was almost as happy as he had been the
previous night. He would have to give up his feeling of possessiveness
toward Nova, but he would be increasing her happiness by including Taylor
completely in their lives, and making her happy was the second most
important thing in the world to Brent now, just after making her safe and
secure. And Taylor was important for that as well.

Part IX

That night they began their great experiment. The irony of the situation
amused Taylor; he was the laid-back social rebel, the astronaut who'd
smoked dope with the war protestors, the skeptic and smartass. Brent was
the straight-laced All-American, ambitious but obedient and responsible and
dependable and guilt-ridden and traditional to his core. But it was Brent
who was determined to make a loving family out of a bisexual love triangle,
whereas Taylor was certain the idea was crazy, doomed to failure, and
morally questionable even. Life is a crazy bitch, he concluded.

They'd eaten a hearty dinner and then bathed right after the meal. Despite
being carnally familiar with both men, Nova preferred to bathe alone,
grooming herself in her own time, so the two men bathed a little ways down
the river from her and shaved one another. Brent had had to shave his dying
father in the hospital when he was very young and Taylor had done the same
for his own father much more recently, so both men were very good at the
procedure although neither had had it done to himself before. Brent found
it relaxing but Taylor found it incredibly stimulating. He really had to
work hard at not wanting to sexually dominate Brent when shaving him; he
also enjoyed having Brent service him. He had to get those feelings under
control if this triangle was going to work.

Back in the hut, the three paced around each other, enjoying the sight of
one another's bodies before disrobing and then really enjoying ogling one
another. Brent initiated the proceedings by lifting Nova onto their
fur-lined mattress beside Taylor in such a way that her mouth ended up
inches from Taylor's soft dick and her pussy inches from his own hungry
mouth. He climbed onto the fur-covered hammock with her and started licking
her soft warm pussy lips gently, working his tongue under her clit and
teasing it gently as he slid his forefinger in her wet hole. Nova at the
same time took Taylor's fat cock into her mouth and, taking her cues from
Brent's assault on her clit, tongued the underside of his shaft until it
was rigid. Meanwhile, Taylor, seeing Brent's swollen but still somewhat
flaccid cock inches from his own face took the opportunity to suck his
first dick. Holding the younger man's cock in one hand, he took the head
into his mouth and lightly chewed at the foreskin, then worked his tongue
as far as it could go into the foreskin, while at the same time working his
hand up and down the shaft to expose the glans. The shiny knob popped out
of its sleeve in no time, red and swollen under Taylor's manipulation,
looking like a small but elongated plum.

Meanwhile, Nova had no trouble working over Taylor's fat dick. Unlike
Brent, she had had plenty of experience with providing oral sex to men,
although Taylor and Brent were unusually large for human males of that
era. She had Taylor writhing with pleasure even as he grew ever more
excited with his male lover's precious cock in his own mouth.

Brent had become more and more aroused as his nose dipped into Nova's pussy
lips while his tongue shot up her slick, salty hole. The smell of her
feminine juices was driving him wild. But Taylor had pushed him over the
edge, making it hard to control himself. He had to fuck Nova and if he
didn't stop it now he would come in buckets in Taylor's mouth before he had
the opportunity to do so.

He stood up and began to tease her clit and cunthole with the tip of his
cock. Taylor meanwhile withdrew his fat dick from Nova's mouth and now
walked around behind Brent. He pulled out a small container and opened
it. It was the lubricant that the mutant had given him before he fucked
Brent the first time. He smiled at Brent and smeared it all over his dick,
then took his lubricated finger and prodded Brent's tight asshole with it,
exactly as Brent was now prodding Nova's cunthole. Taylor gave him a look
that asked, "Ready?" and Brent nodded. Brent put the head of his cock at
the entrance to Nova's tight twat, and Taylor did the same to Brent's even
tighter man-twat. As Brent slowly pushed his long dick into Nova, Taylor
pushed his thick cock into Brent. The two cocks, one long and somewhat
slender and the other short but remarkably fat reminded Brent of Laurel and
Hardy and he had to laugh a little. Nova and Taylor both laughed with him,
and then as Taylor and Brent both pushed their cocks in all the way, the
laughs turned to sighs and moans of pleasure.

And then the two men started fucking in earnest.

To an uninvolved bystander, it might appear that Taylor was in the lead,
fucking Brent who then fucked Nova a fraction of a second later, as if the
shock of the first thrust was absorbed by the action of the second. But in
fact Brent's thrusts into Nova also pulled Taylor along, and when he
retracted from Nova he was fucking Taylor's cock by impaling himself on
it. Both men were doing the fucking and were simply so in sync that it was
impossible to say where the action of one ended and the other began.

And Nova was as much an active participant as either of the two men. She
met Brent thrust for thrust and so helped set the rhythm of the fuck
session. Brent's pleasure was amplified by hers, and Taylor's amplified by
Brent's, so as they fucked faster and harder they could all feel the other
on the verge of orgasm. "Hold on Brent!" Taylor kept urging him, even as he
rammed his pole against Brent's prostate, driving the younger man wild with
pleasure. He conveyed this pleasure to Nova by means of his own grinding
motions against her clit and deep into her pussy with his slimmer but very
long cock. They writhed against and poked into each other's bodies while
trying to hold back the inevitable orgasms, but finally the trio couldn't
stand it any longer and they all came, Nova first in a series of howling,
writhing orgasms, then Brent as his cock inside of Nova and Taylor's cock
inside of him made him feel like the meat in an orgasm sandwich. Then
finally Taylor came and came, dumping what seemed like a quart of warm seed
into Brent's hot tight man-pussy.

They collapsed in a sweaty pile on the fur mattress-covered hammock,
stroking and hugging each other before all rolling over onto their backs to
catch their breaths.

It was in doing so that they looked out the windows of the hut only to see
dozens of ape faces staring in at them.

Part X

"Apes!" Taylor barked.

Brent and Nova had already taken stock of the situation as well.

"I think it's OK, Taylor. They're chimps, like the ones that saved me and
Nova from the gorillas."

"Yeah, well chimps think nothing of experimenting on humans. They think
we're animals, too - they just think they're more 'humane' about how they
treat us."

The group of apes laughed, and their apparent leader, who was not only not
larger but actually considerably smaller than most of his fellows, said "Oh
no, my dear fellow. You are mistaken. We're not chimps - we're bonobos. I
suppose to you all we all look alike."

The apes laughed again.

"Well," said Brent, chuckling " - actually you do. We haven't ever met up
with bonobos." He didn't bother to add that in his and Taylor's time both
chimps and bonobos were non-speaking animals.

"Bonobos?" asked Taylor. "What the hell is a bonobo?"

Brent laughed. "You fighter jocks never did bother with basic science
courses, did you?" Brent faced the bonobos and sized them up. "Bonobos are
like chimps - they share common descent, but evolved on the southern side
of the Congo River. They are pacifistic and sexually omni-... well, let's
just say they might be described as unusually adventurous."

The bonobo leader clapped and laughed and his fellows joined him. "Why
that's amazing! Not only do you speak, but you know things about our
evolutionary history that we have only in the last few decades worked out
for ourselves. We'll want to know more about who you are, where you come
from, how you learned to speak... but first, we must insist upon the
greeting ritual. It is after all, the foundation of our peaceful ways."

"Greeting ritual?" Taylor asked.

Brent gulped. Uh oh, he thought. Quickly he pulled Taylor aside to explain.

"Uhhh, Taylor, I don't know how to tell you this, after all we've been
through recently... sexually... but..."

"Oh, no," Taylor said, "You don't mean... no, you can't be serious..."

"Just follow my lead."

"Brent, no... we..."

Brent turned to Taylor and gave him a weary look. "Taylor," he said,
speaking so softly only the two men could hear, "after all we've been
through, I just can't fight any more. They outnumber us, and... I have
something to really live for now. Nova. You. Our future together. Please
let me try to make this work."

Brent then turned and stepped forward to face the apparent bonobo leader
man to ape. "I would be honored to share the ritual with you."

The bonobo leader smiled but shook his head. "It is our prerogative, since
this is our territory that you have invaded, to choose our greeting
partner. You are well informed to realize that this is a ritual between
males only, but you must excuse us for being somewhat intimidated by your
large size. Both you and your comrade are far larger than the largest
apes. But whereas we have wide mouths, we have short throats. I choose your
partner, he who has the very wide but shorter penis. You would simply choke
me to death, and that would not lead to a happy result for our greeting
ceremony."

"Please, you don't understand..." Brent pleaded.

"It's okay, John." Taylor had silently risen and walked forward to stand
behind Brent. "I'll do this for you. Hell, I'd do anything for you and
Nova. Thanks for making me realize that. Just do me a favor."

Brent turned to face Taylor, and smiled appreciatively at his offer and his
kind manner, his big blue eyes saying more than words ever
could. "Anything, buddy. Anything."

"Just stand behind this guy and, uh, let me look at you. It will make the
whole thing go faster."

Brent smiled and nodded. "Okay, I think I can do that. In fact, I'll spice
it up for you a little."

As Brent went to stand behind the bonobo leader where he could be clearly
seen by Taylor, the bonobo dropped to his knees and with inhuman speed
sucked Taylor's massively fat penis into his wide mouth. Taylor was
startled by the bonobo's oral prowess, and resolved to put the thought of
himself being sexually serviced by an oversized chimpanzee out of his mind
in order to just enjoy the pleasurable sensations. He looked over at Brent
and Brent was doing a credible job of playing a sexual tease. He stared at
Taylor with his big seductive blue eyes and pulled and cupped his muscular
pecs as if they were tits, pressing them together and squeezing them. Then
he started toying with his nipples, stroking them, pinching them, pulling
and twisting them, before moving his hands slowly down his torso, tracing
the deep clefts of his chiseled abs, and working his fingers through the
thick blond thatch of his pubes down to his swelling dick and low-hanging
balls.

As Taylor felt himself swelling to steely firmness in the bonobo's soft,
warm, experienced mouth, Brent wrapped his thumb and forefinger, pointing
down, around his scrotum just above his balls, and pulled the big
egg-shaped orbs up and away from his body, offering them, as it were, to
Taylor, who felt his body lurch forward as if desperate to nibble on
them. At the same time he pinched and pulled on his left nipple
seductively, then ran his left hand teasingly over his pecs and abs again,
moving his hand down to his pubic thatch, where he grabbed his long cock
and began tugging the foreskin, stretching out his cock to the left as he
pulled his ballsac taut to the right.

Brent could hear Nova breathing heavily a few paces to his side. She was
apparently enjoying this a a great deal. The bonobos seemed to be
enthralled, too - there was a quiet, appreciative murmur throughout the
room

But no one was enjoying it like Taylor. He gulped and watched as the
rugged, manly object of his lust degraded himself like a cheap bitch in
order to ensure that the ritual was a success, that the trio's safety would
be ensured. Now that was what a man did - protected his family. Taylor felt
a rush of love for Brent the man, but it was subtle compared to the rush he
was feeling watching Brent the bitch. Taylor's cock was as thick and hard
as a salami in the mouth of the ape leader, who continued to handle the
oversized human penis with aplomb. In a lifetime of rowdy sex, Taylor had
never experienced such a great blowjob.

Taylor raised his own hands to his chest and ran his fingers through the
rough mat of hair on his pecs. It was thick and coarse and curly, not like
the fine, straight, blond hairs on Brent's sternum. He looked over at Brent
now. The handsome astronaut was now stroking his long cock with both hands,
pulling the foreskin back and forth, revealing and then concealing the
plump 2-inch plum that crowned the blond man's slender pink cucumber. It
was at its full length and close to its full girth, though only
half-erect. Taylor felt a wave of lust come over him, and like a warm
repressed spring rising in his nether regions, it suddenly surged out of
him with the force of a geyser, pumping a cup or two of warm cum in four
separate spasms into the receptive bonobo leader's mouth. Taylor let loose
with a howl of ecstatic pleasure. The bonobo leader didn't miss a beat but
hungrily swallowed the seed of this member of the alien human species as
the assembled apes cheered and clapped wildly.

When he had milked the last drop from the trembling, sweating, exhausted
Taylor, he stood up and removed his clothing, revealing a fully erect, but
tiny, penis. "Now," he said to Taylor, "it is time for you to seal our
compact of peace, as I have with you." Taylor looked aghast. Brent, who had
expected this, stepped forward and said, "Sir, I humbly implore you to
consider an innovation." Then he turned his back on the bonobo leader and,
massaging his muscular, blond-furred asscheeks as seductively as he could,
slowly spread them open, revealing his tiny pink asshole. "Consider, sir",
Brent said over his shoulder, "my offering of something a little different
from the usual oral ritual."

The bonobo leader looked shocked, but pleasantly so. "You would offer up
your most vulnerable orifice to me as part of the peace ritual? That is
almost unheard of! It is the supreme sacrifice for us! We humbly accept!"
he added lustily. As if reading his mind, Taylor helped maneuver the naked
Nova into Brent's line of site. If he had to be butt-fucked, he should
appear to enjoy it. With Nova to ponder, he could.

Bent over and clutching the hammock to make himself available to the bonobo
leader, Brent studied Nova's firm breasts, capped by her hardened nipples,
and her wet, swollen vulva before looking at her gorgeous face, flush with
lust for her men. He could feel his cock swelling to join her when the
small bonobo penis pierced him. No more than three inches long at most,
having anything shoved up his ass was still a somewhat surprising
experience. The little cock could barely reach his clit-sensitive prostate,
but his mutant-modified man-pussy still surged with electrical pleasure at
the stimulation. He held onto the hammock with his left hand and grabbed
his cock in the other and quickly stroked himself to an erection. The
bonobos, seeing this, started clapping and chanting rhythmically in an
attempt to get Brent and their leader's thrusts in sync. It worked. As the
bonobo stabbed his cock as deep as he could into Brent's man-twat, Brent
stroked his long, meaty shaft. When one sensed the other about to come, he
pulled back a bit, wishing to prolong the fuck. They played this game of
attack and retreat for a full ten minutes, with the entire room rocking
with the sounds of clapping and chanting, and with many of the observers
engaged in sex as they looked on. Eventually, Brent had to shut his eyes to
block out the image of Nova, who had been playing with her clit and having
several orgasms, to prevent himself from coming first. But excited by the
proceedings, his fat juicy cock again swollen as hard as a steel pipe,
Taylor dropped to his knees and started eating Nova's pussy while massaging
her beautiful firm breasts. Brent opened his eyes and saw his two lovers in
this position and lost control, his dick spewing huge blobs of cum six feet
from his body. The bonobo leader, seeing this, also lost control and
started pumping his ape-seed into Brent's sore bottom, his large testicles
slamming into Brent's larger ones. Ape and man collapsed into the hammock,
where they lay on their backs like conquering gladiators to the applause of
the assembled apes and humans as Nova came wailing and Taylor spurted out
his second large pool of cum in 20 minutes.

The leader shakily extracted himself from the hammock, as did Brent. He
turned to face Brent and said, "I am Cassius, the current elected
representative of the Tandowa tribe of the Bonobo Nation. As you have
explained, we evolved in the Congo in Africa and were brought here as
slaves by the Gorillas, but we won our independence in war from them and in
so doing also liberated our brothers the Chimps, who nevertheless have many
differences with us. They are aggressive and warlike and sexually
repressed, although they have learned to sublimate their more violent
natures in intellectual pursuits. Nevertheless, we felt that putting a
river between us and them as well as the gorillas had helped us evolve in
the past and would allow to continue to evolve in our own way and on our
own terms. Which is why we live here."

"We have observed you for several nights and we realize that you are, like
us, sexually liberated and loving. We have never before seen humans who
were so free and loving with their sexuality. We determined that you would
be good allies and companions for us."

"I am Brent. My partners are Nova, the female, and Taylor, the other
male. As you can see, Taylor and I can speak. I can explain our unique
personal history at a later time, as it is a long and complex story. Please
let it suffice to say that we come in peace and wish to dwell apart from
the gorillas and chimps and mutant humans as well."

At the mention of "mutant humans" many eyebrows were arched, but the polite
bonobos decided to defer questions about what could be meant by that term
until later, when Brent and Taylor could explain their own origins. Little
did most of the bonobos present realize that their own leaders, who
normally shared all, would in future counsel Brent and Taylor to remain
vague about their personal histories. Some stories were simply too bizarre
for any population, no matter how intelligent and liberal, to deal with.

"Then," said Cassius, "let us let this joining of our bodies in the
ultimate pleasure be a symbol of the fertile bonds that will forever join
out tribe with your smaller one. We have already made peace with a nearby
tribe of reasonably intelligent humans - they cannot speak, but they are
otherwise more evolved in the use of tools and housing than the humans of
the South - and perhaps they can join your tribe to allow your children to
have companionship outside their immediate families. To prevent inbreeding
in future as well."

"We would greatly appreciate your help in meeting and integrating
our... family, such as it is... within this tribe. But I'm not sure our
unusual sexual practices would be welcome there."

"They have learned a good deal of sexual liberality from us over the
years. But more important, they have no intellectual leadership such as you
and your mates could provide. And based on penis size alone, which is how
they determine their leaders, you and Taylor would instantly become their
kings."

Taylor just laughed at the absurdity of that statement, and Brent joined
him. Soon the entire bonobo contingent was laughing too and even Nova
joined them. Brent and Taylor smiled at one another. They were going to
start not only a family, or even a colony, but with luck an entirely new
branch of their species, and at the least a new chapter in human history.

Part XI

Taylor looked out from the porch of the multi-level treehouse that he
sometimes shared with Brent and Nova. Brent had surprised him; when he knew
the younger man in his ANSA days he'd been quite the ladies' man, while
Taylor had been the monogamous family man. Now it seemed their roles had
switched to better suit their personalities. Except for their ménage and
the occasional solo fling with Taylor himself, Brent was entirely
monogamous, totally devoted to Nova. She likewise was exclusively dedicated
to Brent (with again the exception of Taylor in their trio). Taylor on the
other hand had maintained his own bachelor love pad in a remote tree, where
he bedded other females - and more frequently these days, males - from the
tribe that the trio had started six years prior with the help of Cassius
and his bonobo tribe.

Their village was close to the small city of Simiana, the home of the
bonobos who had discovered and befriended them that night years ago when
Brent, Nova, and Taylor had more or less committed themselves to and
consummated a "marriage a trois". The bonobos and humans interacted
constantly to further their mutual commercial, security, and cultural
interests, which, thanks to Taylor and Brent, were many. Before the two
"golden haired ones" as the bonobos called them, the local humans had been
more like pack animals, treated humanely by the bonobos but only because
the bonobos treated all primate life with respect. But Taylor and Brent
represented a level of intelligence and scientific knowledge previously
unknown to any of the ape cultures, and in no time the two men had started
the rudiments of a human town all built in trees, safe from the local
wolves and bears and mountain lions that still bedeviled even the bonobos
in their hive like dwellings so reminiscent of Ape City. It amused Taylor
that he and Brent had led the humans back into trees whereas the apes were
living in what looked like Gaudi-inspired condos made out of baked mud.

Taylor and Brent had had a few successes teaching the other humans to
speak, especially with the children. Nova remained the most capable adult,
having mastered rudimentary English, but she was obviously gifted with
extraordinary intelligence. She could communicate very well with the men
now, as could their eldest children.

Yes, their children, mused Taylor. The first child had come like clockwork,
almost nine months to the day of their escape from the underground city of
the mutants. In honor of their eldest member, their default patriarch, the
three had named him George (to this day their first names were a secret
Taylor and Brent kept to themselves and only used when they were intimate
alone, so it seemed like a good idea to pass these on to their sons). The
second came almost nine months to the day after that, and he was named
John. That George was a dead ringer for Brent and John for Taylor was an
irony that the two men enjoyed privately.

They resolved to name the next child after Nova in some way that would not
be confusing to the humans just learning to deal with the subtleties of
speech, so they decided it would be a girl and they would name her
Avon. Nature didn't exactly comply when Nova delivered twins, a boy and a
girl, so they named the girl Avon as planned and the boy they named Novak,
after a favorite high school teacher of Brent's. The last child, born just
four months previous, was the first one that was not blond-haired and blue
eyed; this boy had Nova's black hair and dark brown eyes. They named him
Ben, a name that Taylor had always liked.

As he watched them playing now with the other children in their village, he
realized how much he had changed since that fateful day of their escape
from the underground city. He had been desperate then, literally a man in
despair; if given the chance he might have set off the nuke himself, to rid
the world of apes, mutants, and humans alike. Now he was hopeful for the
future. The bonobos, like the trio themselves, had none of the racism and
sexism that plagued both human and ape civilizations. They lacked the crazy
religion of the mutants; they worshipped nothing in particular and
everything in their lives. And sexually there were no barriers if the
participants were all willing. Side by side with the bonobos, Taylor
foresaw a world where intelligent beings could live as they should, as they
deserved to.

As he sat there contentedly, he felt a hand rest on each shoulder. On his
left was a large, strong, callused hand - Brent. On his right, a softer,
smaller hand with a gentle touch: Nova. He crossed his arms and grabbed
Brent's paw with one hand and Nova's hand in the other, and tugged them
down to his level, so they sprawled in each other's laps, laughing, and
then the three faces joined in a hot, wet, sloppy kiss. It was nice to see
Brent had gotten over that hangup, at last.

Epilogue

The former desert was even more desolate than it had been. Where before
scrub trees and ragged bushes and dead-looking grasses had been, there was
now only rock and dirt. There was almost no life here except for the
occasional weirdly shaped insect; certainly no intelligent life. So there
was no one to hear the noises coming from underground, or watch the rocks
falling away from what looked like a crack in a cliff wall, or see the
strange figure that emerged from this fissure. It was tall and broad and
hairless, with skin shiny and dark. It looked vaguely like a hairless
gorilla upholstered in black leather.

It called itself Ursus, but that was a name from a previous life; it was
much more than that now. Its DNA had somehow bonded with that of one of the
underground mutants, and now it could communicate telepathically with its
followers, mutant gorillas like himself but lacking the full range of his
new abilities. And he could force any of them to do his bidding, for like
the mutants who formerly occupied the underground city he and his followers
had clawed their way up from, he could read minds, and force illusions and
commands upon them.

And before killing the last surviving mutants in their bomb shelters in
tunnels deep deep into the earth, where they had been saved from the
initial blast of the cobalt bomb, he had pulled from their minds all that
they had known. Most of it was worthless, religious nonsense. But one set
of facts was of interest: the talking humans. There had been talking humans
from a past civilization more advanced than that of the apes or, despite
their arrogance, the mutants themselves. These people had created the bomb
the mutants worshipped. They had traveled to this world through space and -
if the mutants' memories were to be believed - time -- in a flying ship.
Such men must be sought out and made to do the bidding of Ursus. For the
new, more powerful Ursus remembered one thing of value from the old, weaker
Ursus: that the most important thing of all is power. Raw, unmitigated
power.

His mission was to find and enslave these golden haired, blue eyed men from
the past. And one of the voices in his head - Ongaro is it? Well speak up
then! - kept telling him how enjoyable it could be to make these humans
perform deviant sexual acts. He felt an odd tingling in his loins at the
thought, something he found extremely odd. What should a gorilla care for
the sexual acts of humans? But then he realized that part of him was now
human too. So be it. He could have a little fun, nothing wrong with that.

But first things first. He had to find these humans. And his instincts told
him they had headed north.

(To be continued...)