The door to our cage swings wide. Hemsworth, Clooney, Gosling, and me are kicked roughly out by a pair of Gestapo-esque spec-ops style goons; their faces are covered by cybertech masks with glowing red optics, as well as a grated mouthpiece that would make Bane or Vader soil themselves in envy. We stumble into the jungle dressed in nothing but cheetah-fur loin cloths, and as the steel container doors slam shut behind us, we exchange wild looks and frightened whimpers.
Hemsworth: “Last thing I remember was getting in the limo for a red-carpet premier…”
Clooney: “Same.” He turns to Gosling. “You?”
“I was about to table-read for a Netflix Marvel series.”
I chime in: “I was jerking off into my favorite sock.”
The three actors turn toward me, give me a disgusted once-over, then turn back to each other. Clooney grabs their shoulders and leans in, drawing their attention with an intense look.
“We need to figure out who’s behind this and—”
POONK! From the corner of my eye, I see a harpoon-dildo sail out from the underbrush and rocket straight into Clooney’s asshole. As he’s yanked off his feet and dragged into the jungle, he claws at the earth and voices a long, wordless howl.
“Oh SHIT!” Gosling blurts, “Peace, mofos—y’all are on your own!” He makes it about ten yards before he steps on a pressure plate, triggering a pair of log-sized dildos that swing down from the trees. At the bottom of their arc their heads connect, smashing Gosling’s skull into a pulped, bony mess.
He freezes in place, drops to his knees, then crumples onto his side.
Hemsworth spins around in a half-crouch, hands extended out to his sides. “Game over, man! GAME OVER! WHAT’REWEGONNADO!!!”
Thin whistling slices through the air, and a rabbit-vibrator flies directly into Hemsworth’s right ear, burying itself up to the hilt. He staggers sideways, but before he can scream, a mold of John Holmes’s penis streaks into his other ear. Peter North’s and Mandingo’s giant members follow shortly after, fucking him in both eyes with their enormous, mushroom-tipped glans.
Hemsworth drops to his knees, his quivering fingers clutching the air while his mouth yaws open in silent agony. Streaks of blood run down both his cheeks. A moment later he falls onto his face, driving the cocks all the way through the back of his skull.
My gorge rises, my cheeks bulge, and I slap a hand across my mouth, striving to hold back an ear-piercing scream.
All around me, figures emerge from the brush, clutching various forms of penile weaponry. I back slowly away, but it’s no use; they’re hemming me in from all directions.
Their leader chuckles. “The infamous Kent Wayne. These other heartthrobs have been stealing our wives attention, but you’re far worse: you’ve managed to have sexual intercourse with most of our spouses. And to add insult to insult, your giant member has left their genitals looking like the aftermath of a humanitarian disaster. I’m talking NCIS crime scene.”
Oh my God. “You’re…you’re…”
A knowing nod. “That’s right; we’re the tiny-peened beta-males that soccer moms marry, due to the fact we project a robotically predictable level of financial security that never surpasses mid-level management.” He levels his dildo-launcher right at my face. “We’re gonna take our time with you, buddy ol’ pal.”
No options left. I open my eReader to Echo, activating its reality distortion powers. Magic flash.
I hear the clarion call of a war-trumpet, followed by a strong, defiant voice:
Latex-clad soccer moms descend on their husbands like an army of Batmans. Using a cutting-edge mix of Greco-Roman, jiu-jitsu, and Atlantean-derived mind-to-mind combat, the alpha superwomen dismantle their cubicle-dwelling hubbies in myriad ways. In a matter of seconds, the jungle is coated with the prone bodies of thin-dicked beta-males.
The soccer mom leader bends me over her knee and mashes her face onto mine, thrusting her tongue deep in my mouth. Then she slings me over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and as a unified troop, the soccer moms rush into the trees, intent on molesting me as if I was a triple-parked SUV with every bell and whistle you could possibly imagine. Sweet Christmas—I’ve hit the jackpot! 😀
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