Daemon Way

The Herd

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"GSO ETA 1435," announced the ship's computer perfunctorily.

"GSO ETA 1435," repeated Justin Kao in a somewhat more animated voice. "All audio and visual hails to the planet Bertram Herschel have had no response." The twenty-five-year-old Communications Officer's voice cracked like an adolescent boy's with the emotion of the moment. He had every reason to be emotional. This was the young officer's very first deep space mission, which was reason enough in itself. Added to that was that this mission had been double red-flagged, indicating extreme danger. The crew of the original exploration ship to the planet had disappeared without so much as a distress call, as had the two search and rescue ships sent to find out why. This was the third attempt, and as the ship's Communications Officer it was his responsibility to ensure full and complete communication with Earth. That was no small responsibility.

As he thought about the announcement by the ship computer, he had to smile. They had the technology to send man hundreds of light years into space and to send probes that could report back to Earth from the edge of the galaxy, but they still had not perfected an automated voice that could reflect the emotion connected to the message. The ship's computer sounded like the android named Data from the old Star Trek movies seven hundred years ago.

"Captain's Log, Standard Terran Date 2678.10.21.1434. Geosynchronous Orbit Estimated Time of Arrival 1435. All systems of Terran Space Ship Armstrong operating at peak efficiency." One hour. Captain William Wilkie inhaled deeply with more than the usual apprehension as he studied the array of ship's data displayed before him, alert to the slightest indication of something wrong. The original exploration ship and the two search and rescue ships had landed on the planet without any indication of trouble, most likely meaning the reason for their disappearance had nothing to do with the functioning of the ship they had arrived in, but one could never be sure.

He glanced at the crew on the bridge. Everyone was intently studying the display in front of him or her. He had a topnotch crew and was confident of their capabilities, even their youngest member, Communications Officer Justin Kao. He had noticed the young man's smile and knew what had to be going through his mind. He had been the same age on his first deep space mission, thirty-four years ago, and he still remembered the excitement and the pride he had being part of the bridge crew and having the trust of the Captain that he would fulfill his responsibilities. He had to smile as he thought back to that day and as he thought about young Justin Kao. It was a brief smile as thoughts of another young man crossed his mind, a young twenty-one-year-old, James Wilkie, his son, a member of the crew of the exploration ship TSS Gulliver, the first ship to land on this cursed planet.

"GSO ETA 1435," recorded Mission Commander Gordon Mackay. "All data the ship's sensors are picking up on Planet Bertram Herschel are consistent with previous background data and unremarkable." He studied the long-range scan of their destination with the thoroughness that he was known for, but like Captain Wilkie, with more than the usual apprehension also. Planet Bertram Herschel, named after the Dutchman who had discovered it, had become known by another name, Planet Black Hole. Three ships had landed on the planet, and their crews suddenly disappeared without any warning of danger or trouble. He was determined this would not be the fourth. The success of this mission depended on the crew the Terran Space Agency had selected, and the crew depended on him. He had seen young Kao's smile, which had not come as a surprise. A natural nervous reaction. He had seen the Captain smile also, which had been a surprise. He and William Wilkie had been boyhood friends ever since primary school. They had double-dated in high school, they had graduated together, they had both enrolled in the Terran Space Academy, William in the Flight Program, he in the Strategic Planning Program, each had been the best man at the other's wedding, and they had celebrated the births of each other's children together. He knew about William's son, and he knew the man was not nervous. The smile had been out of character.

Major Malcolm Oshama had seen the reaction by the two men also, and had made a mental note to himself to keep an eye on the two men. At the age of fifty-nine, the two were the oldest members of the crew, and approaching that age where most men retired or transferred to a less physically demanding position. Nothing escaped the forty-year-old military man's notice, and he left nothing to chance, two reasons he had been selected for this mission. Strict and disciplined, he knew the only man he could trust to save his black ass was himself. "GSO ETA 1435. Air corps division TSS squad deployed and at their stations, air corps division shuttle squad on standby, ground corps division standing down," he recorded tersely.

An hour later TSS Armstrong achieved geosynchronous orbit around Bertram Herschel and after forty-eight hours surveillance and continued attempts to contact intelligent life on the planet, the first ground crew, an engineering team lead by Commander Mackay and accompanied by Communications Officer Kao and with a security squad under Major Oshama, shuttled down to the planet's surface. TSS Gulliver and the first search and rescue ship were side by side and their primary interest. The Gulliver had landed in 2660 and the first search and rescue eight years later in 2668. The area in which they had landed was flat and had been open. It still was though the surrounding jungle had invaded from the south. The engineering team went to work immediately while the military secured the area and by the end of the day reported that other than the natural ravages of time and disuse, they could find nothing wrong with the two ships and no reason why they could not have left the planet. Nor could they nor the miliary personnel find any evidence of what had happened to the crew.

The shuttle returned to the TSS Armstrong and the next morning brought down a second ground crew consisting of a forensic team, a team of biological experts, and a second military platoon under Lieutenant Kevin Stenway. Dividing the ground crew into four sections, each a mix of military and nonmilitary personnel, they spread out from the two ships in search of evidence and on the alert for attack. The area they were in was subtropical and the weather, flora and fauna were not unlike that of Earth. The heat and the humidity were oppressive and they began sweating despite the conditioned uniforms they were wearing having had advance knowledge of the habitat they would be working in. It was soon evident that there were two likely directions the crew had headed, south along a well-defined animal trail that lead out of the jungle and across a luxuriant savanna, connecting several watering holes, or west along the same trail through the jungle to a wide river. The four sections recombined into two platoons, one under Major Oshama heading south and the other under Lieutenant Stenway heading toward the river.

It was the latter team that encountered the first attack by the planet's inhabitants, a tribe of simians that were similar in appearance, size and behaviour to chimpanzees back on Earth. They had been aware of the creatures for some time, following them from high in the trees and at a distance, curious but timid. It was not until they had emerged from the tangle of jungle and began to cross the open expanse between jungle and river that the beasts became agitated, hooting and screeching and banging sticks against the trees, and then tossing sticks and a coconut-like fruit at the team. A few rifle shots into the air chased them away, but they soon returned. The closer to the stream they got the more violent and agitated the simians became.

At first it was assumed the behaviour was aggressive, the beasts taking advantage of the protection of the surrounding jungle while the team was exposed in the open. When they did not attack in mass, it was assumed that perhaps the behaviour was territorial instead and the river was seen as their property. When several of the beasts left the confines of the jungle and approached close enough to succeed in striking members of the team, Lieutenant Stenway shot in the air and chased them away again, but ordered his men to fire on the creatures instead of in the air with their next attack, which he was sure would occur. He was correct, and as the simians approached once again, their intention clear, the military prepared to shoot and would have had Paul Kleery, one of the young biologists, not intervened.

Following his suggestion, the team slowly backed away from the river, and as he had predicted, the simians calmed down and backed off too. He alone began to head toward the river, and immediately several of the tribe advanced, again becoming highly agitated and jumping up and down and gesturing violently with their hands, and several tossing stones and sticks, not at him directly, but in front of him in an attempt to stop his advance. The further he went the more agitated they became, but always they aimed their throws in front of him although they could have easily hit him. It was intentional and not because they had terrible aim as one of the soldiers had initially observed. For some reason they did not want the team to reach the river, but the beasts had no desire to harm them. The young Lieutenant was grateful for the intervention of the young biologist for he was very much aware of the history of destruction of other life forms by the military and he had no desire to add to that reputation. He praised Paul for his astute observation, which greatly pleased the young, secretly gay biologist. Not only did he have a bias against harming other creatures, he had an infatuation for the handsome young Lieutenant, having a thing for men in uniform.

Reporting their progress and discovery to Major Oshama, Commander Mackay and Captain Wilkie, they were given permission to continue. Inflating collapsable boats at the water's edge, they pushed off into the river. The simians quickly raced forward and continued trying to discourage them, throwing stones and sticks head of them until they were out of reach. Was it because the simians had something on the other side of the river they did not want them to see, like perhaps the missing crew or their remains, or was it because the ground beyond the river had a special meaning to them, perhaps sacred ground, or, as unlikely as it seemed, were they trying to warn them of something hazardous in the river or on the other side?

If there was a hazard in the water, nothing happened and they were soon on the far bank. There were no other simians on that side and they continued along the clear trail, eventually emerging from the jungle to where the second search and rescue ship had landed four years ago in 2674. Again a search of the ship and surrounding area provided no clues, and again, the ship was found to be fully functional. Figuring that they would conduct their search more thoroughly and faster with both platoons working together, Major Oshama and his platoon along with Mission Commander Mackay joined them and they continued their search.

Two days later they discovered their first evidence of the former expeditions to the planet, several buttons, zippers and metal buckles and a few scraps of tattered cloth which the forensic team analysed and announced were stained with human blood. The crew remaining with the TSS Armstrong was notified and the ship was moved to near the site where the buttons, zippers and buckles had been found in case they had to make a hurried escape from the planet. The search resumed and the next day they came across eight large dome-like structures of clay and straw and a dozen smaller cone-shaped structures, the latter having small entries of six inches [15 cm] in diameter. To Paul Kleery they resembled the termite nests of Africa which can tower up to twenty feet [6 m] in height, except these were only of about half that height and the eight domes were much longer and wider. It was a logical assumption, the creatures they had encountered so far, birds, lizards, and snakes, were all typical of a tropical habitat and similar to beasts back on Earth. There being a large open area nearby and in that it was getting late and they were hot, sweaty and tired, they set up camp for the night. At dawn they were attacked.

Their attackers were like beasts out of a grade B horror movie, about a foot [30 cm] in length with a fiery red chitinous exoskeleton, six legs, a body with an oval-shaped head and a thorax and abdomen connected by a narrow pedicel, and huge, sharp mandibles. They were remarkably similar in appearance to ants except for their size, the creatures standing a little more than halfway to the men's knees when they stood on their skinny back legs. The attackers had several advantages over the humans. One was surprise. Being dawn, the humans were for the most part still half asleep and so their senses and reflexes were numbed. Considering their comparative size to the humans and their annoying but largely harmless behaviour on earth, their threat was greatly underestimated, which was the second surprise. Even those on guard who had spotted them had dismissed their sudden appearance as an irritating inconvenience, much as one views the appearance of ants at a picnic. Third, viewing them as insects and insects not being ranked with animals of high intelligence, their well-organized and systematic attack was unexpected. The fourth and biggest surprise of all was their strength. Ants on Earth were known for their ability to carry many times their weight, and these 'ants' were of no exception.

Their second big advantage over the humans was their numbers. The total number of humans on this mission was two hundred, seventy-five nonmilitary and a hundred and twenty-five military. Of the nonmilitary, there were twenty crew members, half of which were back inside the space ship, fifteen engineers, most of whom were also in the ship, and forty scientists, most of them biologists. Selected for their knowledge and analytical skills, the crew, engineers and scientists did have combat and defensive training as part of a search and rescue mission, but that was not their area of expertise. Although that was the expertise of the military, hand-to-hand combat when one had two hands and the opponent six hands was not high on the list in the training program, and besides, each human found himself facing ten opponents.

The fight was brief but brutal. The attackers found themselves sliced in half between thorax and abdomen by knife or gunfire or shot point-blank in the head, their exoskeletons providing little protection. Their casualties would have been much higher had the invaders of their planet been able to bring to bear their larger and more destructive weapons, but machine guns and rocket launchers cannot be deployed when the enemy is on top of you. The humans, on the other hand, found themselves swarmed by the enemy ten on one. Grasped by the ankles, their legs were pulled out of their sockets with a sickening popping sound, and as they were toppled, four or more of the enemy tackled them and pulled their arms out of their sockets, rendering their limbs useless. Weapons were snatched up and passed from one to another to the periphery of the battlefield where they were encircled by the smallest of the fighters. Those who attempted to flee in the direction of the space ship found themselves cut off by row upon row of the six-legged enemy who had evidently anticipated their escape route and had massed between them and the ship. Meanwhile those back at the ship had been similarly surprised and overwhelmed by another separate swarm before they could secure the ship never mind respond to the distress call by Communications Officer Kao before his arms were popped and his communicator tossed with the weapons.

Having immobilized and disarmed the enemy, the captors began to rip off their captives' clothing with their mandibles, ensuring there were no concealed weapons it was assumed at first but the purpose became clear as they began to randomly select a naked enemy and to rip off huge chucks of their captive's flesh which were immediately carted off the battlefield. The fortunate had their throats chewed through and died quickly. The others lay there helplessly and screaming as their bodies were ripped into pieces. Those not being butchered were bound with vines and dragged or carried off the battlefield by their captors and over to the nearby huge mounds. There another group of ants, smaller and a duller shade of red with shovel-shaped mandibles, had opened up the side of one of these domes and the captives were dragged or carried inside and down a narrow tunnel just wide and tall enough to accommodate a human body and dully illuminated by some form of luminous green fungus.

Emerging into a large underground chamber, their captors continued down its centre. To their surprise and bewilderment, the captives found the chamber lined on both sides with young, naked children, all boys they gradually realized, and from their appearance, all between the ages of eleven and thirteen and having recently reached puberty. They were hung in a squatting position, their legs spread and their arms and legs at impossible angles suggesting they also had been dislocated. The first thought that crossed the minds of Commander Mackay and Major Oshama was that these were offspring of the crew of the TSS Gulliver. It was possible, eighteen years having passed, except that for the number of children being held captive the original crew had to have been exceedingly prolific. The possibility that the 'ants' had been breeding the original crew crossed their minds, and chillingly the only reason they could think of for doing so was to provide a constant food source, and that thought was reinforced by the way the boys were hung like so many carcasses. Captain Wilkie could not think of a worse fate than being forced to have children knowing that your children were going to be raised as food. Of course that was what humans did with domestic stock, but cattle and pigs did not have the intelligence to know their fate.

"Grampa? Grampa Bert?" inquired one of the children in the front row.

His heart leaping, Captain Wilkie squirmed around to look at the speaker. He knew that voice! It was the voice of his son, the voice he had when he was a child, and Grampa Bert was what they called his father Albert. Managing to twist over on his side, he found himself staring into the face of his son, but the speaker was not as his son should have looked like at age thirty-nine but as he had looked at the age of twelve.

"Jimmy W?" he asked, using the name his father used for his grandson, having also another grandson by the name of Jimmy, Jimmy Dean, on his sister's side of the family whom he referred to as Jimmy D. The boy's eyes widened with a look of surprise and recognition and then perplexity of the name. And then William was carried further into the room and out of sight and contact was lost. His mind raced. Could that have been his son's son? By age it was feasible, and he did look a lot like his son. James could have shared with him the names he and his grandfather had used for each other and told him what his grandfather Albert looked like. William had a strong resemblance to his father when his father was his age, so it was logical for the boy to have mistaken him for his father. But why would James have shared any such information with his son and why would he have described his grandfather in such detail that the boy would see the resemblance? Besides, if he had, the boy should have called him Great-grampa Bert, not Grampa. It was all too unlikely to be possible and was more likely wishful thinking that he'd find his son still alive.

They continued single file down another narrow corridor to another large chamber also lit by the luminescent green fungus, this one vacant and evidently newly excavated. Here they were lined up in rows and suspended in slings much like the boys in the previous room. They drifted in and out of consciousness, their bodies wracked with pain from their dislocated limbs and their minds wracked with the horrors of the battle. Sometime later they were vaguely aware of their colleagues from the TSS Armstrong being carried in and hung from the ceiling also. As they gradually recovered from the shock of being captured and the horror of seeing their colleagues slaughtered and hearing their screams as they were torn into pieces alive, they began to take stock. They slowly realized that the slaughter of their companions had not been as random as it had seemed. Those who had been torn into pieces had all been female. Not a single female had remained alive, and it appeared that not a single male had been killed. That meant there were a hundred and forty-five of them in this chamber and a number call by Major Oshama proved that to be correct. Why the males had been kept alive and the females not they had no idea. It did throw out the hypothesis that the former crews had been bred, which made the mystery boy all the more mysterious to Captain Wilkie.

Another group of 'ants', a separate caste from the warriors and the excavators Paul Kleery surmised in that they were more of a brownish red and their mandibles were smaller than the sizes of the other two casts they had seen, hand-fed them what they came to realize was their only source of nourishment, a bland, white fungus they had seen growing on the walls of some of the chambers they had passed through, and a thick, brownish, cloyingly sweet nectar of unknown origin in bowls that resembled melon rinds. A fourth caste, the smallest and dullest red, entered the dome periodically to remove the soiled straw on the floor, the captives having no choice but to defecate and urinate where they hung, and to replace it with fresh, sweet-smelling straw. The biologist Paul Kleery proposed that this latter group could actually be another species of ant captured and used as slaves. That ants back on earth had such a sophisticated society most of them had not known and over the following days Paul shared all he knew about ants, not just to pass the time which passed by slowly when all you do is hang there and eat and defecate, but to better inform everyone of the possible nature of their captors. They all developed a new appreciation for the ants back home, and for those who had captured them. As the days went by, they continued drifting in and out of consciousness. Their dislocated limbs healed, calcifying in whatever position they were bound and their muscles softened and weakened from the lack of use. Their minds would have weakened also out of disuse and sheer boredom had they not communicated with each other, realizing if they didn't exercise their minds senility would certainly set in.

They had plenty of time to think and talk about what had happened and they were not pleasant thoughts nor conversations. They realized there was a very strong likelihood that no messages had been sent back to Earth regarding the attack, and that what had happened to them had most likely happened to the previous crews. Where those crews were now and who the room of naked children they had encountered that first day were, were subject of much speculation but remained mysteries.

When every day is the same as the last and each day is filled with monotony, it is difficult to keep track of time. Several months had to have passed. Gradually they realized that those around them were changing in appearance. They were beginning to look younger. Grey hair was disappearing and being replaced by hair of the original colour and bald spots and receding hairlines were growing over. The change was most evident with the younger members, men like Justin Kao, Paul Kleery and Lieutenant Kevin Stenway. Scruffy beards that had developed during their first days of captivity disappeared and acne developed and they began looking more like teenagers than like men, and then muscle definition became less distinct, complexions cleared, and they began to shrink in height and loose weight until they began looking more like children than teenagers. There was one exception. Although their dicks had grown smaller, each ball had swollen to the size of a baseball.

It was not just their physical appearance that was changing. So were their minds. One by one they realized their memories were slowly fading. At first they forgot Paul Kleery's lectures on ants and then they began forgetting details of the battle above ground until they could not recall anything about it, not even the screams of their female colleagues as they were ripped apart, which in many ways was a blessing. Next to go was any memory of their flight to planet BH, and the names and positions of their fellow crew members, and then memories of their earlier missions and other details of their lives. Captain Wilkie forgot one by one the birth of his children, his eldest daughter, his son, and his youngest daughter, and then his marriage, his days at the Terran Space Academy, and his life as a high school student. He could recall nothing of his life as an adult, and could not even recall having been an adult. As these changes took place they were gradually removed one by one until there were only William Wilkie and Cameron Mackay and two others who had been near their age in the beginning and then one day they were cut down and carried out of the chamber also. Fearing the worst they said their goodbyes and prepared for the end, certain they were about to become food. To their surprise they were carried into a room nearby where they were hung once again along with several hundred other pubescent boys, some of them being their former crew but none of which they could remember ever meeting.

"You two look enough alike to be twins," observed Cameron, looking at his childhood friend William and the boy hanging beside him.

The two glanced at each other and realized he was right. "Name's Jimmy Wilkie," said the boy who had been there first.

"Yeah? My name's William Wilkie," William said in surprise. He didn't know of any relative by the name of Jimmy, especially one his age.

"Where did you come from?"

"I dunno. Another chamber."

"I mean before this place. Like, where you used to live, you know, with your parents."

"Oh. Denver, Colorado." It was not an unusual question for a thirteen-year-old to ask. "You?"

"Orlando, Florida. My dad's name was William. He grew up in Denver." The boy looked at him curiously.

"Yeah? Really. That's strange."

"When you were in the other room, did you see an older man, a man called Bert? He'd be about fifty-five."

"No. Actually I don't really remember much of anything while we were there." William of course did not recall his arrival at the domes and their first meeting, all memories shortly beyond his thirteenth birthday having disappeared. "My father's name was Bert. Albert actually."

"Yeah? That was my grandfather's name." Jimmy remembered everything up to sometime after his twelfth birthday, and everything that happened to him as a preteen hanging in the dome, including the brief encounter with a man who looked remarkably like his grandfather.

"Strange coincidences."

"Or are they coincidences?" asked Gordon.

"What do you mean Mackey?"

"Did you call him Mackey?" Jimmy asked, nodding over to Gordon.

"Yeah."

"That is weird. My dad had a friend he called Mackey. His name was… Mackay. Gordon Mackay."

"And what did his friend call your father?" Gordon asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Wee Willie Wilkie," Jimmy said with a smile. "Except Dad wasn't wee. It was after some poem or rhyme or something about a boy in a nightgown."

"Wee Willie Winkie runs through the town, upstairs and downstairs in his nightgown, knocking on the window, calling through the lock, are your children in bed, for now it's nine o'clock."

"Yeah. That's it!" Jimmy looked at the two new arrivals curiously. How could these two guys know about his father and his father's friend? He'd never seen either before in his life. William and Gordon looked at Jimmy with the same wonder. How could this twelve-year-old kid have a dad who had a friend with the same name and nicknames as theirs, and a grandfather with the same name as William's father? Someone had to be messing with their minds. If only they could recall where they were and how they had gotten there.

They were still puzzling over this new information and trying to recall things that were beyond their ability to recall when a group of ants entered the room, a caste familiar to Jimmy and his group but new to William and his. They were slightly longer than the others, of a deeper shade of red, and had smaller, more delicate looking mandibles. Lining up before their captives, each stood and then stepped up between their outspread legs. Their heads were almost level with their captives' crotches. Bowing their heads, their soft, feathery antennae brushed against their captive's genitals. As they nodded and gyrated their heads it became evident the touch had not been accidental.

"Hey, watch it!" called out William as he tried to twist away. Two pairs of legs reached out and held his hips stationary with an amazing strength. The antennae continued to brush against his cock and balls and along the inside of his thighs, causing his dick to begin to swell.

"Don't fight it," advised Jimmy. "Enjoy it. It's the only pleasure you'll ever get in this place." The boy was quickly becoming erect, as was William and Gordon and every other boy within their sight, each being stroked by an 'ant' standing before him.

Young Willie Wilkie was very much aware of what was happening and what the boy Jimmy meant about pleasure. He had been introduced to the unique pleasure a boy could bring himself only three months ago, the day after his thirteenth birthday, by an older cousin. It was a secret and something guys were not supposed to do, not good guys, but once discovering it he could not resist it. He glanced over at his best buddy Gordon. Ever since he had learned about this pleasure he had wondered if Gordon knew about it and if he did it. He'd wanted to ask but had been afraid to, afraid what Gordon might think of him. His cousin had told him some boys did it to each other and he suspected his cousin had wanted them to do it together, but his aunt and uncle had left before they had a chance. He'd lain on his back in bed doing it and imagining him and Gordon doing it to each other since that day. It felt good, and Gordon was his best friend and he would have loved to have shared this pleasure with him, except it was a secret, and good boys didn't do it.

His cock quickly became stiff and began to throb pleasantly. It was gross being touched there by this creature, and embarrassing getting hard there in front of Gordon and the other boys, but it was arousing too, and every boy he could see was sporting a boner. He glanced over at this new boy he had just met, this Jimmy with the same last name as his. It was like looking in a mirror. Even their cocks looked alike, and they both had a huge set of balls, much larger than he had ever remembered his being, and a curly patch of hairs that had only begun to grow a few months ago. Unlike himself, the boy didn't seem at all embarrassed and was openly enjoying it.

It was difficult not to enjoy. The creature stroking his dick was doing it even better than he. It had pulled his foreskin back to expose his bulb and was brushing its antennae along the sensitive rim and sending piercing shocks of stimulation through his swollen bulb and up the core of his swollen cock. It then stroked the fleshy, less sensitive part of his bulb and his shaft, but as the tingling along the rim and the ache in the core of his boner subsided it stroked the rim again as if it knew his desire was subsiding. Once in a while it stroked his peehole, sending a ripple of stimulation down the core of his dick. It stroked his balls too, and the sensitive inner side of his thighs, causing his stiff cock to jerk and wag with the pleasure it was creating. It was in some ways similar to how it felt when he rubbed his stiff cock with his thumb and first two fingers as his cousin had shown him, but different also, gross in that it was being done by an overgrown insect, but also more tantalizing and making his cock ache more. It was taking him much, much longer to come, making the itch around the rim of his bulb that much more intense.

Gordon could not keep his eyes off his best buddy's cock as the two of them were being stroked by their captors. He had learned about arousing himself with his hand from an older boy just two months ago, two months after his thirteenth birthday, and he had been eager to share his knowledge with his best buddy except that guys called those who did it wankers and said they were nerds and pervs who used their hands instead of doing it with girls. Not wanting his best buddy to think ill of him, he'd kept quiet. Of course he'd seen Wee Willie naked when they showered after gym or before going swimming at the local pool and he knew that down there he was not so wee. He couldn't remember his nuts being so big, but then he couldn't remember his being so huge either. He had wondered how big Willie's was when it was hard, and now he knew, and seeing his best buddy squatting there with his four-inch [10 cm] boner jutting up between his legs made his own bone ache to squirt his stuff, even more than usual. It was weird being stroked by this overgrown 'ant', disgusting in a way, but pleasant, and it felt even more pleasant with his best buddy having the same thing done to him at the same time. It was embarrassing too, being boned up in front of Willie. It sometimes happened to guys at school, which everyone thought was a big joke except the guy it happened to and the guys all said they knew what the guy who'd boned up had been thinking about, but he knew that was not always the case from personal experience. Sometimes it just happened to a guy. Having a bone on right there in front of Willie because it was being played with was super embarrassing, and he was embarrassed for Willie too also being in that position. It was also erotic though, seeing his best buddy boned up and his best buddy seeing his boner, the two of them knowing how the other was feeling, and being surrounded by what looked like at least a hundred guys all in the same condition.

Again the two best friends wondered if the other had ever aroused himself and if he could squirt, and if he'd been doing this in secret or if this was his first time. That their best buddy was feeling the same burning itch and the same desire to squirt his stuff as he was arousing, and made the pleasure pulsating through their swollen flesh even more powerful. They could not help but steal glances at each other as the throbbing of their swollen cocks became stronger and they began to open and close their peeholes in anticipation of squirting. The burning itch around the rim of their bulbs was becoming unbearably painful, and yet tantalizingly pleasant and greatly desired. And they were not alone. Every boy in the room was boned up and feeling the same thing. Now that was super hot!

Actually, it was hot. A hundred boys all sexually aroused and about to pop had raised the temperature in the underground chamber considerably and their armpits and their balls were damp and the musky odour added to their arousal. Finally it happened. Try as desperately as they could to stop it they could not. Something seemed to twang somewhere in their swollen balls or in their groins. Their swollen cocks went numb and tingly, like your arm or leg feels when it goes to sleep, and then the rims of their bulbs seemed to be on fire and they could feel their stuff racing up the core of their boners with a burning sensation and though they clamped their peeholes closed to stop it, the force of their cum was too great and their stuff spurted out of the tips of their swollen cocks, spurt after spurt and their groins felt hot and numbed. The 'ants' had held a bowl-shaped object made by somehow weaving leaves together in front of their cocks and were collecting their stuff, and they spurted and spurted with a delightful burning pleasure. Their balls were way larger than they remembered them ever being and they spurted for double the amount of time, their thin, watery, milky-white juice filling the leaf bowls the ants had fashioned to collect their stuff.

William and Gordon inhaled deeply with the intense pleasure of their ejaculation and as they threw their heads back in ecstasy they caught each other's eye. They were immediately embarrassed and flushed red as they were caught enjoying their ejaculation and as they saw their buddy spurting, and then realizing that the other was tensed up in immense pleasure, the same immense pleasure as they were feeling, caused them to smile even more and for them to spurt all the harder. It was far greater sharing this experience with another, and especially with a best friend. Gordon had made that stuff that he was told made a baby and from the glazed look in his eyes and the stunned look on his face, he was thoroughly enjoying it, and William knew exactly why because he was feeling the same thing. Neither boy had ever spurted half as much back home nor for half as long as they did that afternoon, and when they were done they felt completely satisfied and completely drained.

The 'ants' quickly backed away, taking their leaf-bowls of fresh adolescent spunk with them and leaving behind the row upon row of young boys hanging there with stunned looks on their faces, their eyes glazed over and their ruby lips parted in a smile of pleasure. For most, their cocks still jutted up stiffly, their peeholes glistening with the juice they had spurted. Ever so slowly their cocks began to droop and the pounding of their blood through their flaccid flesh subsided and they regained their composure. As they inhaled deeply, the musky fragrance of spilt cum and adolescent sweat filled their nostrils and accented the pleasure they were feeling. They hung there for a long time, enjoying the rush of pleasure that had swept through their bodies and the warm flush that followed. As they slowly recovered from their ejaculation, they began to grow embarrassed again.

"That the first time for you guys, or have you squirted before?" asked Jimmy.

Willie and Gordon glanced at each other. "No, it wasn't the first time," admitted William, glancing over at Gordon.

Looking at William, Gordon answered, much to William's relief, "Me neither, but it was the first time being brought off by an… what are they, ants?"

"Yeah, that's what we call them. It's gross at first, but you'll get used to it, and no matter how it's done, squirting is fucking awesome."

"It fucking is," William agreed.

"Fucking right," agreed Gordon.

None of the boys was the type that used vulgarity, but using the dirtiest swear word there was seemed appropriate under the circumstances and the three boys smiled at each other knowingly. They hung there in silence, each thinking about the experience they'd just had, each wondering when the other's first time had been, and with whom. Five hours later, exactly on time, the caste of brownish-red ants arrived with their daily ration of white fungus, which they consumed with a sense of relish though it was the same bland substance as they had been fed in the other room. This time though, there was a difference. After hand-feeding them the fungus, the ants climbed up into their laps and turning around, thrust their backsides at them.

To William and Gordon's surprise, Jimmy and many of the others lowered their heads and slipping their lips over the tube-like posteriors of their captors, began to suck! The ants in their laps became agitated when they did not.

"Go ahead, suck," Jimmy urged, pausing from doing so himself.

"You gotta be kidding?"

"If you don't, you'll die."

"You are kidding!"

"I've seen it." Jimmy paused and added, "a long, long time ago. A few guys wouldn't do it. They wrinkled all up and died. You don't forget something like that, or joke about it."

"That's right. I've seen it too," observed another boy nearby. "It's not like you're thinking. Try it and you'll see."

William and Gordon glanced at each other and as the 'ants' in their laps vigorously thrust their backsides at them, they reluctantly bowed their heads and opened their mouths and fastened them to the tube-like ends and tentatively sucked. They were rewarded by a cloyingly sweet brownish nectar that they were familiar with. Focussing on the enjoyment they had gotten from that sweet treat before and trying their best not to think about what it was, they continued sucking. They were not totally successful, but the taste was pleasant and neither wanted to die.

"Nurse ant shit isn't that bad, is it?" asked Jimmy after the ants had left, his lips smeared with the thick, sticky, brown nectar. William and Gordon looked at him. "That's what we call them, nurse ants. They come and feed us that fungus and their shit, like we're babies and they're nursing us, you know, and then the wankers come and jack us off. Not a bad trade."

Shortly afterwards, the wankers did return. Knowing what to expect, the new boys greeted their arrival more receptively. One of them was Paul Kleery. He sighed with pleasure as the 'ant' stroked his swollen cock with its antennae and he glanced over first at Kevin Stenway on his right and then Justin Kao on his left. The two thirteen-year-old boys were exceptionally handsome and young Paul, thirteen himself, was in seventh heaven. He had no idea how it was that he had ended up in the company of these two boys whom he had only recently met, but he was glad that he had even if the three of them were trussed up and had broken arms and legs and were in this strange place held captive by a swarm of 'ants'. He just knew that back in Kentucky, the last place he could remember prior to this place, if he so much as had looked at another boy wrong they would have given him such a beating it would likely have left him with two broken arms. For all he could recall, that could be how he'd broken his arms and legs.

Only in his wildest fantasies, which he'd often had, had he jacked off along with two such handsome, naked boys, and then he had done himself or they had done each other. That it was being done by these disgusting giant 'ants' was an unfortunate reality that he now temporarily blocked out. He focussed on the eyes of the other two boys. You could tell what a guy was thinking from the look in his eyes, and right now the two boys were thinking how great it felt to have a boner and to have it played with. Eventually that look of pleasure would turn to a look of desperation as the ache to shoot off a load became unbearable, and then when they began to squirt their eyes would glaze over with delight.

Paul knew those looks long before he had been captured and trussed up in this place. He had been eleven when he realized he was different from most boys, that he liked boys a lot more than he liked girls, and not just to be with, and that good-looking boys in particular turned him on. Other boys, older boys, had realized that about him too, and had joined him secretly and encouraged him to satisfy them, with his hands, or his mouth, or by bending over. They of course made him swear to secrecy, and he readily agreed for the opportunity to do things with them. He remembered those furtive sessions, and now, in this place, he thought back to those sessions and imagined it wasn't some gross overgrown insect that was stroking his prickhead but was one of these two handsome strangers. He imagined them stroking him, causing his cock to throb and ache with desire, and as he looked down at their naked bodies he concentrated on their nipples and abs and groins and imagined it was them stroking his cock. As he felt himself about to cum, he looked at their cocks, ignoring the presence of the insects, and as he watched them spurting their stuff into the leaf-bowls he spurted his own, and as he looked back up into their eyes he spurted all the harder, delighting in their look of wonder and ecstasy. This is how it should be among boys and if that meant he had to be trussed up by a bunch of 'ants' so be it.

Not all of the boys found the experience pleasurable. Malcolm Oshama shuddered when the 'ants' arrived for the third time in the past eighteen hours. He had matured earlier than most boys, having reached puberty somewhere between his eleventh and twelfth birthdays, and had lost his virginity with a fifteen-year-old girl in the neighbourhood who had introduced half of the neighbourhood boys to the joys of sex. Now, somehow he had been captured and strung up along with all these other boys, none of whom he knew, and was being beaten off by an overgrown insect along with everyone else. Those nearby had their eyes glued on him. Actually, on his cock. For even though he was only eleven, his cock was bigger than most of the white boys surrounding him, four inches [10 cm] limp and five [13 cm] stiff. Black boys, he'd been told by older black boys, were better hung than white boys, which made them envious and jealous. That had been his experience back in the 'hood' and it was his experience now. They were all losers and being openly beat off in their presence was disgusting and humiliating. Doing his best to ignore their stares, the throbbing of his swollen member and the ache in his loins to shoot off a load, and the eventual pleasure of ejaculation, he stared straight ahead and imagined his revenge on these overgrown 'ants' as those around him similarly shot their loads into the leaf-bowls.

How they all had ended up in this cave or whatever it was they were being held in and where these giant 'ants' or whatever had come from and how they had captured them nobody had any idea. If anyone knew was the first question asked when the boys were moved around and they met up with different boys, and it was one of their major topics of discussion as each tried to remember when and how and where they had been captured and their limbs dislocated. The other topic was about the search for them that was inevitably going on by their fathers and their rescue which they were sure would be happening at any moment.

The third most frequent topic was sex. They were all of that age where sex was still largely a mystery and a novelty. They would have normally wondered about it and talked about it, furtively and secretly and with leers sharing and seeking information about this forbidden, adult practice. Here, where it was the only activity besides eating and defecating and in the absence of adults or girls, it was natural for boys having just arrived at puberty to discuss the mystery and the wonder of it. Close to half had jerked off before being captured, a few had experimented mutually jerking off with a friend, a few, like Paul Kleery had engaged in other forms of sex with boys, a smaller number like Malcolm Oshama had lost their virginity to a girl, and the rest had no experience until having been captured. Some found the experience arousing and pleasureful and others found it filthy and disgusting, some found it embarrassing and others delighted in sharing it with other boys. Some fought it, most welcomed it for the pleasure it was, and all accepted it as inevitable.

As the wankers entered the chamber for the fourth time in what would become a twenty-four-hour cycle, William, Gordon and Jimmy glanced at each other. They'd had plenty of time to talk, and that talk had largely been about what Jimmy could remember of his first twelve years and what he could remember about his father, his grandparents, and his father's friend Gordon Mackay. The similarities in names, personalities and experiences was too great. Jimmy's grandfather Bert loved to flyfish and made his own flies. So did Willie's father Albert. Jimmy's grandmother was Clara. Willie's mother was Clara. Jimmy's dad had a boyhood friend named Gordon Mackay and they both were working in the Terran Space Agency. William and Gordon were boyhood friends and only thirteen, but their primary interest was in space exploration and astronomy. Jimmy's dad had a scar on his right side where he'd broken a rib from a fall from a horse while at summer camp at the age of eleven. William had a scar on his right side where' he'd broken a rib from a fall while at summer camp at the age of eleven. As impossible as it sounded, there could only be one conclusion. Thirteen-year-old William Wilkie was the father of twelve-year-old James Wilkie and Gordon Mackay was the same boyhood friend as Willie Wilkie and Jimmy Wilkie's father.

That was their conclusion as the wankers approached them that fourth time. As the 'ant' pulled back his foreskin and began to caress Jimmy's knob with its antennae, it was far different from any other time. He was acutely aware that he was very likely being jacked off in front of his father, and not only that, his father was right there beside him and also being jacked off. Even though the boy beside him looked like a typical thirteen-year-old boy, talked like a typical thirteen-year-old boy, and acted like a typical thirteen-year-old boy, he was still his father, and it was embarrassing to be hanging there beside your father with a boner, and for your father to be hanging there with a boner also.

It was totally different from the previous three times for Willie also. It was still difficult getting used to being jacked off by an oversized 'ant', but on top of it was the likelihood that the boy hanging beside him, although only a year younger, was his son. How that could be he still could not understand, but if it was, that meant his son was hanging there with a boner and he'd seen him shoot his load three times so far, and his son had watched and was watching him getting off a load too. He thought of his own father, and how totally embarrassed he would be if it was his father hanging beside him seeing him with a boner and having a boner himself, and how embarrassed his father would be.

As his stiff little cock throbbed with pleasure and he felt himself approaching that still novel and delightful peak once again, Gordon Mackay glanced at his lifelong friend and the boy who could be his twin beside him. Assuming he and Willie really had once been adults and somehow had turned thirteen again, and that this really was Willie's son, it was weird seeing a father and son side by side about to squirt. He imagined Willie and his father Albert hanging side by side and getting their pricks stroked while he watched them, and he imagined he and his father in such a situation, the two of them with boners and their cocks throbbing with pleasure as they were stroked and his best buddy hanging beside them in the same condition and watching them. That would totally freak him out, and he was sure that was how his best buddy and this boy called Jimmy were feeling at that moment. It was with that thought that he tensed and began to shoot into the leaf-bowl held before his spurting cock and he gasped and quivered with pleasure as he watched his best buddy and his best buddy's son spurting their stuff into the bowls held before them.

***

Their chore done, the nurse ants filed out of the room with their fresh buckets of cream, their captives slack and dazed from being milked, panting and deeply inhaling the musky, cum-and-adolescent-sweat-scented air, some groaning with what they had come to learn was this creature's expression of pleasure. They were strange, primitive beasts these beasts that had been sent to them from out of the sky by their creator God as His gift to them as loyal subjects. They were among the most primitive of beasts, much like the hairy beasts across the great river that occasionally dared to enter their territory, communicating by the most primitive way of communicating, by voice, instead of the more sophisticated chemical means of taste and smell such as they and all intelligent creatures did, but then, they were primitive beasts with little intelligence so really needed no other way to express themselves.

From the glazed look in their eyes and the curl of their strange, mandibleless mouths and the murmuring among them, they were contented, and a contented herd meant more milk. They were a marvellous gift from a truly marvellous God. They were easy to take care of once they were immobilized so they could not run away, and keeping them together underground protected from other beasts who would devour their flesh and they didn't seem to mind. The white fungus, useless otherwise, was easy to grow in their underground gardens out of the sun and not only did the herd like to eat it, it increased their production of milk a hundredfold. In fact they had learned that if the beasts were not milked four times a cycle of the sun above ground the milk containers hanging between their legs would swell to such a size they would become painful and in danger of bursting.

They had also learned that occasionally switching the creatures around kept them more alert, as long as they didn't separate certain groupings. They had also learned giving them massive amounts of honeydew upon their arrival rejuvenated the beasts to the point where they were at their maximum capacity of producing milk, and by regulating the dosage to once a day after that kept them at that peak capacity. Arriving at the central hall, they set their precious buckets filled with fresh cream down and their comrades, in order of caste and position, filed forward to drink of the cream of the gods while not far away the herd slumbered contentedly for a quarter of a cycle before their morning milking.

The End