Queer Horror
The Hungry Mint-Green Jelly
by Felix Lance Falkon

Author's Note:
Usual warnings apply: no one under age admitted without parent
or guardian, shake well before using, slippery when wet, watch
out for fallen rocks, beware of the dog, not responsible for
unattended coats, no swimming unless a lifeguard is on duty.

Copyright© 2004 by Felix Lance Falkon; you may save or make
paper copies for your own use; do not post, repost, publish,
or archive elsewhere without the author's express permission.

That's the last time I'm going to ship myself by a cut-rate carrier. The delivery man -- a nicely built hunk -- tossed me in the air a couple of times as he strolled to the front door, along a path long enough so that someone on the street couldn't see what was going on at the door, especially at dark.

So much for "guaranteed morning delivery, I told myself as the delivery man reached the door. He tossed me into the air again, missed, tried to catch my fall with his foot, and managed to kick me onto the lawn.

Enough is enough and then some, I decided as I melted from my traveling form -- a cube about twelve inches on a side -- into a puddle of mint-green jelly.

The delivery man stumbled after me. He spotted the shipping label lying on the grass, strode over to it, and put his right foot, then his left, onto me.

Naturally, I made his shoes stick to me. He fell forward onto his knees. I promptly soaked through his trousers, touched his bare lower legs -- and I had him!

Without quite knowing what he was doing, he ripped off his jacket and shirt, baring a nicely muscled chest and arms, pushed his trousers down to his knees, letting his stiffening cock spring erect, then paused, looking down at himself. "What the fuck am I doing?" he asked.

I formed speaking equipment and replied, "You're taking off your clothes."

"But --"

"Relax -- I made you do it. Just pile them to one side; I'll eat them while I'm working on you. It wouldn't do to leave any evidence behind, would it?"

"I suppose not," he said thoughtfully. He carefully folded shirt and jacket, put them down. "But still --" He looked down at his trousers, now bunched around his knees and fast disappearing as I devoured them. "My legs? It's like -- I don't know what. Are you…?"

"Eating you from the knees on down? Of course! Eating someone alive is -- well, I can't describe it, but I can --"

"-- show me?" He took a deep breath. "Yeah, I imagine you can at that. Uh -- by the way, I'm Pete. You are--?"

"I do not have a name, Pete." I paused. "Shall we get on with it?"

"On with -- getting eaten? Yeah, but--" He stroked his stiffening prong with his right hand, cupped his balls with his left.

"Not to worry," I said. "Eating them is the most fun of all."

"For you or for me?"

"Both. But even if it wasn't--"

"Yeah, yeah. 'When rape is inevitable, just relax and enjoy it'? I might as well -- whatcha want me to do, then?"

"Just lean forward and stretch out on the grass -- and on me. I'll go to work on your thighs and abs -- nice definition, by the way--"

"Uh -- thanks."

"And leave your chest and arms till later--"

"So I'll last longer?"

I managed a quiet chuckle. "And of course--"

"Yeah. That too." Pete leaned forward, catching his weight on his hands and arms, and cautiously lowered his thighs and torso onto the ground -- and onto me. His stiff prong touched, then sank into me. I engulfed it, held it close. He began to thrust, pull back, thrust again, fucking hard and harder while I slowly ate him alive.

Pete had just reached his first climax and was working on his second when I heard footsteps on the path. Evidently he did too: he stopped humping and looked back over his shoulder. I formed an eye and looked too. A sturdy teenager stood at the door, one hand raised to push the doorbell. He was staring in our direction.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Danny?" Pete demanded.

"Collecting for my paper route," said Danny. "What the bloody -- uh -- what are you doing, man?"

"I decided to take a few minutes off from delivering stuff so I could try humping the lawn," said Pete. "What the fuck's it look like I'm doing, Danny?"

"It sure looks like you're humping up a storm and enjoying the freak out of it," said Danny. He started to unbutton his shirt. "You wanta make it a two-way?"

"It'd be a three-way," I said, "but -- how old are you, Danny?"

"Seventeen. Why?" He stripped off his shirt, opened his belt-buckle.

"Eating children causes us mint-green jelly creatures no end of trouble," I explained regretfully. "You look like a tasty chunk of meat, but--"

"Eating?" Danny stopped stripping.

Pete slowly resumed his stroke. "Eating," he said firmly. "This mint-jelly thing is eating me alive while I'm lying here on top of it.

"And you're still…"

"Sure am. It's eating me -- from the waist down, so far -- but it's sure the fuck worth it. I have never, ever, had a fuck like this. I have never even heard of a fuck this good, so--"

"So you're just letting it -- eat you? Even your -- your balls and your -- dong?"

"Man, that's the best part," Pete growled. "Feeling this jelly-thing work on me, eating my balls -- yeah!"

Danny took a deep breath, dropped his trousers, and kicked off his shoes. "Hey, jelly-thing; don't you have t' keep things quiet about eating dudes like Pete here? Besides, I'll be eighteen, day after tomorrow, and -- and I've never seen him up hard, but I'm pretty well equipped myself. So -- how 'bout it?" He pumped his shaft for a couple of strokes, then displayed a magnificent erection.

"Wow, kid," Pete sighed. "You got me beat by two inches easy -- maybe two and a half. Getting pronged with a weapon like that would be --" He turned away from Danny, looked down at me. "Come on, thing; let the kid have some fun too."

"Well --" I hesitated. The kid was a splendid specimen indeed, and… "--okay. Just a minute--" I extruded a tentacle, slid it up between Pete's thighs, found his ass-hole, and squirted in a gob of lubricant. "--there. Climb on."

Danny lowered his sturdy body onto Pete's back, speared his target with the first thrust, and slid himself in all the way to the hilt. Danny locked his arms around Pete's chest, settled his bare legs alongside Pete's, dug in his toes, and began to fuck. Pete resumed his stroke; after a couple of thrusts, their rhythms merged into a powerful, synchronized beat.

And they kept on fucking while I slowly devoured their legs and bored my way through Pete's abs and eviscerated him, then I ate his semen-spurting genitalia. Next, I gutted Danny and then went to work on the sturdy teenager's balls and splendid shaft.

When there was nothing left of my prey below their waists, Pete suddenly asked, "Hey, Kid -- you glad I talked you into getting eaten like this?"

Danny obliging shifted his arms so I could get at Pete's chest muscles. "If ya gotta go, this is the way to do it, that's for freaking sure." He glanced back over his shoulder. "I just realized -- you're eating our bones too."

And your clothes -- I was telling Pete we don't want to leave any evidence behind, do we?"

"I s'pose," said Danny. "How ya doing now, Pete?"

"Getting my pecs eaten -- that's kind of a turn on, too. Not as much as when it was eating my cock, but -- what surprises the fuck out of me -- is how we lasted this fucking long."

"I just take it slow and easy," I said. "Eventually, though…"

"Yeah. Not much left, and…" Pete's voice trailed off as I took his heart and lungs.

"My turn?" asked Danny.

"Yes. As soon as I finish off his back muscles -- there. Feel that?"

"Yeah -- you're eating my pecs now. I've got pretty good ones -- well, I did have -- and like Pete said -- but remembering the way it felt when you were eating my prong… that's what makes getting eaten worth while."

As I ate into his chest, Danny gasped, gasped again, then relaxed with a long sigh.

Finished, I turned my attention to the house, shifted to a more liquid form, and flowed up the front step, under the door, and along the hall. To the right, bedroom noises: two guys, making out hot and heavy. To the left, the quiet hum of a home computer. I turned left, oozed in that direction, found myself in a dimly lit room with two top-of-the-line computers. Both were on; neither was more than three months old.

Success! I had tracked the elusive hacker to his lair. But to make sure…

I flowed part of myself up onto the desk, then onto and in to the waiting keyboard, and began searching the files.

After a few moments, success again. I had indeed found the hacker -- only which of the pair in the bedroom was the sneaky culprit?

Bedroom noises rose to an erotic climax, then faded into a few minutes of heavy breathing, followed by bathroom noises. Things were still going on in the bathroom when the door to the computer room squeaked open and I saw a naked young man enter. He was built better than the delivery man and better hung than the teenage newsboy I had eaten alive a few minutes ago.

The hunky stud seated himself at the desk, flexed his fingers, and began keypunching. Was this well-buffed hunk the elusive hacker? I asked myself as I flowed part of myself up the chair he was sitting in. I prepared to pounce, but held back when I realized he was searching the two linked computers for the same files I had discovered. And -- almost as rapidly as I had -- he found them.

The door squeaked open again and another naked man entered. Not bad looking, I decided, but definitely not in the same class as the kid I had just eaten. Younger-looking too, but the rules about stray newsboys -- even well-hung ones -- don't apply to hackers.

"Hey, Ben," said the latest arrival, "I didn't know you're a computer expert too."

"What do you mean, `too,' Chester?" asked the bodybuilder at the keyboard. "What I don't understand is how in the name of Turing and Babbage you ever managed to make so much trouble with such ineptly-compiled software. And as for spoofing your identity, it took us less than 10 hours to find you."

"Us? But--"

"Getting you to use our call service was easy too -- look, Kiddo, you're up against experts now. Deleting your files'll be easy enough, now that I'm here; as for what we'll do with you -- that's going to be a problem. Unless…"

"Unless what?" squeaked the hacker. "I've got all my files backed up on floppies--"

"Well, you have that much sense, I have to grant you that."

"-- and my dad'll replace my computers if you do anything to them, so--"

"-- so I'll have to do something about you," I said from the floor as I fastened myself to Chester's bare feet. The young hacker tried to step back, fell back, and landed on his butt with a splat. The young hacker tried to squirm free, but I don't let go easily. He was still struggling when I began to feed on him, but he relaxed as soon as I flowed up on to his balls and his shaft began to stiffen.

"Aha," said Ben, swiveling the chair for a good look at what was happening to Chester. "So you're what -- or who -- has been helping us out. Our secret anti-hacker group have been wondering -- and here you are."

"You've discovered me at last," I said.

"And it -- it looks like you're eating him--"

"-- alive and raw? Indeed yes."

"Even his--" Ben asked as I flowed some of myself up to envelop the no-longer-strugging hacker's prong.

“Especially that," I said, as Chester began to squirm again, this time with an approaching climax. "It's by far the tastiest part, and once I start eating that, there's no more nonsense about trying to escape or calling for help."

"That's for effing sure," panted Chester. "I have never, ever -- like wow, man, like."

"He certainly looks like he's enjoying getting eaten," said Ben, stroking his own stiffening prong. "While you're taking care of our little hacker, I'll finish cleaning out his files on his computers. And after that, I suppose you'll want to--"

"-- eat you too? I'd be delighted to, but I already ate two well-built studs before I started on Chester here, and it'll be quite a spell before I get hungry again. So, while I'm finishing him off, you can look for those back-up disks he was talking about."

When Ben turned away from the keyboard again, I had finished eating Chester's legs and was working on his butt. Chester was working on his third orgasm -- I had finished assimilating his balls and was still eating his shaft, but slowly. Ben asked, "I wish there was some way we could persuade our inept little hacker to tell us where those disks are, but since you're already eating him--"

"There is that," I said.

"-- and if getting eaten alive is that much fun, we could threaten to--"

"Don't stop eating me now," Chester gasped. "I'll tell -- I'll tell. In my bedroom closet, behind the hats on the top shelf -- ah, I'm shooting again! -- there's a box of disks."

Ben put both computers to work reformatting their hard drives, then trotted off. He returned a few minutes later. "They're baking in the oven now," he reported. "You're sure you don't want to--"

"-- eat you too? Some other time, perhaps."

"But -- damnit all, Jelly-Thing, just watching you eat Chester alive is a real turn-on."

"It should be," growled the half-eaten hacker. “Being eaten alive like this is a real effing turn-on too."

"Anyway, if you two don't mind, I'll going to give myself a hand job while I watch."

"Go right ahead," panted Chester.

I said, "Just be sure you shoot your cream where I can get at it -- at least I can eat that much of you."

And he did. More than once, too.


Copyright© 2004 by Felix Lance Falkon; you may save or make paper copies for your own use; do not post, repost, publish, or archive elsewhere without the author's express permission.

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