Kidnapped by a Caveman

I was on assignment in the forest in the dead of winter taking pictures of trees. The snow was really coming down as I tinkered with my camera on its tripod until I thought I heard something. I look around, the falling snow really obstructing my vision, I couldn't make anything out.

Then I saw him, over by my supplies. It looked like a huge, wild beast at first. He was dressed in nothing but a loincloth. A caveman in modern times. It had to be a man, but you could have been fooled into thinking it was a real live yeti in this snow. He was huge and hairy all over except for his balding head. He looked old, mid-sixties maybe, 6-foot-5 and easily 400 pounds.

I realized the big bastard was going to steal my food and leave me stranded out here if I didn't stop him.

"Hey, you, get away from there!" I shouted.

He grunted at me and started to rifle more roughly through my things. Upon a burst of adrenaline I ran over to the fat old ogre and tried to stop what he was doing and collect me things. "Get away I said!" I shouted angrily and shoved the big, smelly son of a bitch.

He shoved me back much harder. I ended up with my face buried in the snow. My body was freezing but I was warm with anger on the inside. I rushed him with the intention of giving him a good punch in the gut and hoping that would scare him away. We scuffled and he gave me a brutal beating. His huge hands cracking against my skull was the worst pain I'd ever experienced in my life. The fight which left me beaten nearly to death lasted maybe fifteen seconds.

I crumpled into the snow. My body was sore, swollen and throbbing all over. I knew some ribs were broken and it felt like at least one of my legs was as well. I watched, one of my eyes nearly swollen shut, the giant bastard gathering up my supplies for himself. I thought for sure he would leave me to die. At last he came over to me and threw me over his shoulder, leaving only my camera and tripod behind. My ears buzzing and head dazed, I imagined what uncertain future lay in store for me. It crossed my mind that he might be taking me along to become his new jungle wife.

The greasy old caveman brought me to a stinky cave. It was obvious that he lived there. He put my bruised body down in a corner next to chewed up old animal bones. He stripped me of most of the clothing at which point I was sure he was going to kill me and added it all to his bedding area. He ate all my food, over three days worth, in about fifteen minutes. I was hungry, too, having not eaten since breakfast, but I was too weak to speak or plead, and too worried if I did so that that would be the final straw which led him to hold my nose shut or snap my neck.

The massive caveman went to sleep about ten feet from me on the other side of the cave in his makeshift bed. He snored loudly as I cried to myself silently.

The next thing I remember is not being sure if he had woken me up or if the stinging in my skull had done that. Judging by how hungry I was I must have been asleep two days, which would have made it almost three without food or water. I turned my head slightly, my neck killing me. I startled as I saw the greasy old oaf just a few feet from me. He was hunched over, sweating, his huge hands in constant motion as he furiously masturbated. I couldn't believe how enormous his penis was. It had to be twelve inches long, fat, covered in knobby veins. His other hand squeezed and twisted at his giant, mango-sized testicles. His gigantic, swollen tip was aimed at the rind of a melon hollowed into a bowl.

The old bastard let out a loud, tortured grunt as he began to ejaculate, unloading into the melon bowl. Spurt after spurt of sticky, thick, milky sperm filled the cavity in the melon. He seemed to cum forever, coating the inside of that melon with his seed longer than our entire fight had lasted the night prior. The big bowl was filled to the brim before he'd finished. The huge bastard set the bowl down a foot or two from me and then left the cave, I didn't know to where or for how long, or why he'd filled the bowl with his semen.

My stomach wouldn't stop growling and I was so thirsty. I didn't know how much longer I could last like this. I needed some form of sustenance, something, anything. My eyes wandered over to the melon bowl, the sticky, milky cream glistening inside it. If I wanted to survive I realized I would have to drink that filthy old sasquatch's sperm. It wasn't even about survival, I was so damn hungry, so damn thirsty, I actually found the appearance of his thick, buttery splooge appetizing.

I tried to move and found that yes, at least one or maybe even both of my legs were broken. Everything hurt. Two feet looked like I mile. I dragged myself utilizing every ounce of strength I had, millimeter by millimeter, using that disgusting bowl of semen as motivation. I could almost taste it, quenching my thirst, filling my empty stomach. I couldn't wait to feel that dirty old yeti's thick, sticky seed rolling down my stomach. The last few inches were horribly painful but it was worth it as I dunked my face into the bowl of potent sasquatch milk.

It was still warm I told myself gleefully as I sucked down thick, syrupy mouthfuls. The smell was overpowering; a masculine, virile scent. The taste was just as strong; a heady, dark flavor, salty, but also sweet. Under any other circumstances I'm sure I would have found the scents and tastes utterly revolting, but not today. It was the best, the tastiest meal I'd ever had. I licked the bowl clean when I'd finished, its heavy bulk and flavor filling my stomach so nicely. I must have had about a quart of the caveman's sticky baby batter and I still wanted more.

I felt overwhelmingly tired and fell asleep where I laid, the empty melon bowl next to me, my lips still shiny with sperm. The big, old bastard returned sometime later. I awoke to finding him standing over me in his loincloth. I must have looked pretty guilty laying there with the empty bowl next to me and his baby butter dried and caked on my lips.

All I could think was that I was still so hungry. I pushed up and somehow managed to get up into a sitting position. I reached my hands into his loincloth and pulled free his huge cock, hanging there like a fat salami. I stroked his hardening prick in my little hands as I began placing kisses on the rough, appetizing veins lining the sides of his shaft.

"Please, please... I need your splooge," I told him softly.

The big old son of a bitch got down on the floor of the cave which allowed me to lay down partway in his lap as I took his huge, flared helmet between my lips. His eyes closed as I ran my tongue along his fat tip. I just kept imagining that sweet, warm baby batter, I'd do whatever it took to get that, to be swallowing it down by the mouthful again. My lips stretched wide as I took the first couple inches of his thick, pulsing shaft into my hot mouth. I noticed he kept his eyes closed throughout practically the entire blow job, a look of twisted pleasure upon his ugly face.

The humiliating irony wasn't lost on me that I was orally pleasuring the fat old bastard that had just last night beaten me to the brink of death. It didn't matter, I needed his sticky seed inside me. I could picture myself guzzling it down, his warm cream sliding down my throat in thick streams.

The ugly sasquatch began to stretch and rub his massive testicles while I sucked him. I let his fat cock slip from my lips and went straight to the big, ancient orbs between his thighs. I kissed them passionately, over and over again. I didn't even think of it as the ultimate capitulation to him, I was being truly thankful to them. I wanted nothing more than for them to fill my stomach with their virile, potent splooge. I was conscious only of the thought that they brought me dinner and for that I was eternally thankful.

I wrapped my full lips tightly around one of the fat, ugly mangos and sucked hard, my hands stroking his massive shaft. He groaned as my hot tongue feathered across his huge, ancient-looking testes. I found I was beginning to love even their greasy, salty taste. I shoved my face into the sleazy old yeti's enormous gonads and shook it as though I were motorboating a stripper's tits. I could certainly get used to this I thought as I chewed gently at the loose skin of his scrotum and ran my teeth down both of his large, bulky testicles.

I realized that from the injuries I'd suffered at the over-sized monster's powerful hands, my lips had swollen up. It was like he was getting a blow job from a porn star, not that the hairy old caveman would have any idea what that was. The contorted, pleasure-filled look on his face made it clear he was happy with the overwhelming fullness and softness of my lips at present.

I kissed and licked from his testicles up his beefy shaft and back to the fat, throbbing tip of his monstrous cock. I took his huge helmet into my swollen lips again and sucked hard. My little hands massaged his massive gonads as I rolled my tongue along his tip. He grunted out his approval as I took more of his knobby length into my mouth.

Pre-cum leaked from his over-sized tip down my throat. It was the sweetest nectar I'd ever tasted. I swirled my tongue around the flared, crown-like spongy underside of his rock hard helmet, finding that earned me more drips of pre-cum. His shaft was so stiff now, like it had been chiseled from stone. The veins adorning it like a vivid blue spiderweb were so gnarled and angry-looking.

The dirty old oaf's moans became more frequent. I looked up and saw how tightly his eyes were shut. His huge hands came to rest on the top of my head, pushing my face lower on his cock. I tried not to gag as I realized how close he was to cumming. To blowing his load inside my mouth and coating my stomach in his DNA. I wanted it so badly, that dark, manly flavor filling my stomach, I was delirious with desire, my tongue swirling frantically around his enormous appendage.

"HUR... HUR.... HURRAAAHHG!" he roared like a wild beast as his prehistoric-looking woolly mammoth-like penis exploded in my mouth. Steaming hot streams of jizz blasted down my throat as if shot by a cannon. He coated my esophagus and filled my stomach with his sticky, creamy DNA. I found the strong, masculine flavor even more delicious straight from the source. Its creamy, buttery goodness seemed to take my physical pain away and removed my hunger.

The sasquatch continued ejaculating for nearly a minute, grunting and groaning, my head locked between his huge hands, and my lips stretched wide, tightly sealed around his massive girth. I was desperate to swallow every last drop of the fat old sasquatch's splooge but there was too much and some escaped from the corners of my mouth. When he was finished shooting I cleaned his cock from root to head.

The big bastard was sweating and breathing heavily. I watched him lean against the side of the cave and soon fall off to sleep. I continued on laying in his lap and gently nursing his fat tip. Every couple minutes I was rewarded by a fresh pearl of sticky pre-cum. I joined him in sleep before too much time had passed.

I had the wildest, most vivid dreams. The sasquatch's huge, old, sperm-laden testicles were rolling around on my face. I loved it, it was like I was literally worshiping them. I couldn't get enough. All I could feel was this deep sense of gratitude, devotion, and even sexual attraction, to them. They were providing for me, producing the sustenance I needed to survive. I loved them. I reached up and licked the sweet, milky nectar dripping from his fat, spongy tip. I moaned, my eyes closing.

I awoke groggily the next morning. There was a certain smell filling my nostrils, like that of dirty gym clothes. I lazily opened my eyes and there lying right in front of me on the ground where the sasquatch's two ancient, mango-sized testicles. I'd fallen asleep right there between his thick legs. I pushed forward on the ground only about an inch and began to kiss his musky, enormous scrotum.

The big ogre awoke even more slowly than I had. I'd been kissing and sucking his big, smelly orbs for five minutes before he yawned and began to move around. The old bastard seemed perfectly content to leave me to my work. He hardly moved as I worked his testes with my tongue until they were dripping with saliva. I squeezed my lips around one of his fat, ugly testicles and sucked deeply before rapidly swiping it back and forth with my tongue.

It must have been a pleasant way to wake up for him. I got the feeling he didn't receive many visitors. Ejaculating down my throat instead of into a dirty bowl was a big step up. I wondered if he'd left that for me intentionally to drink. His huge sausage, which had gone from lying flat against his stomach to standing straight up in the air while I tended to his testicles, caught my eye. My stomach rumbled. It was breakfast time.

I abandoned the savage's big sperm sack for the time being and crawled further up his body. He moaned softly as I caught his fat tip between my lips and began to nurse on it. My small hands squeezed and rubbed down his long, knobby shaft. I took another inch of hard, spongy sasquatch meat into my mouth and teased it with my tongue before turning the suction back on.

His eyes slowly opened as I was in the midst of a deep, hungry swallow around his girth. There was a small smile on his big, ugly face. We made eye contact, my lips tightening around his thick pole and my hands working his shaft. The hairy, old sasquatch had kept his eyes shut throughout most of the blow job I'd given him the night prior. I found it was a new experience to pleasure him like this while staring into his eyes. It made me feel a strong sense of subjugation, which strangely I didn't really mind, since all I was really looking forward to was the creamy dessert that I knew was rapidly coming my way.

My dainty, little hands now went back to his testicles. They were hot and huge, swelling with the thick, sticky breakfast. His massive penis had graciously provided with a few strands of its rich, manly discharge while I sucked on it, enough to whet my appetite. It elated me that I'd soon have a stomach full of his bubbling, creamy splooge.

The memories of my old life faded away. The sasquatch's buttery load was all that mattered to me. He grunted loudly and my mouth flooded with his rich, creamy offering. A perfect meal if ever there was one.