The Society Pt. 04

Finals had stretched much further through the day, and by the time I got home, it was the evening. I swung my rickety apartment door open, and to my undeniable relief, found Jason fast asleep on my couch. I walked over to the living room, silently placing my car keys on the kitchen counter, looking absentmindedly at my asleep guest. He looked big on my small and unsavory couch.

He had no blanket, wearing jeans and t-shirt I had bought him, his thick, meaty arms placed behind head. When out of that strange suit, he looked astonishingly normal, other than his potent masculinity. His face was filled, suiting a husky-handsome that cleaned up nicely, though he kept his close shaven beard.

Realizing I was staring, I quickly make my way to my room, feeling weariness heavy in my head, and collapse onto my bed. Before I knew it, I was drifting off into a peaceful and dreamless sleep.

. . .

The morning of the arrival of Jason in my apartment began perfectly normally.

I was making coffee and cereal when Jason finally wakes up.

"Mornin'."

I say to the man, as he sat up on the couch, running his fingers through his matted brown hair, and looks up to me with brown eyes sporting thick shadows beneath them.

"Morning."

He said groggily, his deep voice hoarse. Getting to his feet, he stumbled slightly, as if to adjust himself to his balance.

"You feeling better?"

I say, peering at him over my coffee cup as I take a sip.

He nods, stepping over to the counter.

"Fundamentally."

He said simply.

A newspaper on the counter captures his interest, and he takes it under his arm.

He heads towards the hall, calling as he went:

"Off to the shower."

The deep cut along his arm was mostly faded and healed, along with the cuts and bruises on his face.

I noticed he no longer walked with a limp.

How is that possible? It's been a day.

I decidedly put it off to the side.

I take my cereal, coffee and cell phone and plop down on the sofa, next to Jason's Walmart bag of clothes.

After a few minutes, I hear the shower turn off, and the door opens.

Without thinking anything of it, I listen as I hear the heavy padding of bare feet walk up the hallway.

And then I look up.

Jason walks lazily towards the couch, completely naked, water droplets still smoothing over his bare skin.

I gasp, making Jason stop in his tracks.

"Why the hell are you naked, man?"

I exclaim.

He folds the newspaper he was still reading, and tossed it onto the kitchen counter.

Unable to resist, I look down to his body.

Hair lays flat and damp over his burly and broad chest. A solid six pack was bricked impressively on his stomach along with his thickly muscled obliques, the hair narrowing as it smooths over the abdominals. Veins protrude hulking biceps and triceps, his deltoids and back muscles a broad mass, along with his legs. His quads were bulked, each muscle group visible, and strong.

Following a deeply set V on his lower abdominals and a bush of pubic hair, a thick cock hung between his legs, its veiny shaft leading to a bulbous head, the two mounds of his testicles dangling heavily.

It had to be four to five inches long flaccid, at least.

I was getting steadily hot in the face.

"What?"

He said innocently, putting his hands on his hips, curiously eyeing my petrified expression.

I rip my eyes away from his body.

"Don't you know not to walk around someone's house in the buff?"

I snap.

Although I was resisting, I felt my own cock begin to thicken to chub in my pants.

My face burned.

Jason looked down to himself briefly, and back up to me, his expression genuinely confused.

"Oh- sorry- my kind-"

He stopped himself abruptly.

"My family-"

He corrected.

"Are used to being open with our bodies."

I try to keep my gaze on his eyes.

"I'm not your family man! Get some clothes on!"

I snap.

He strided over, (I accidentally let a glance slip at his bouncing cock, and my cock engorged further towards an erection, my heart racing) and he stood close, right to my side and scooped up his clothes, but in that time his impressive package had been nearly in my face.

As he straightened and began to walk away, he paused, still only a couple of inches from me.

He looked at me curiously once more, and said with a smile:

"You getting a stiffy, man?"

My heartbeat bolted in my throat.

"No!"

I Immediately deny it.

How the hell could he possibly know that?

He just smiled coolly at me, as if him knowing that without even seeing my cock was perfectly normal.

"I can sense it, your horniness is practically radiating off of ya', it's alright bud,"

He said, turning back to me.

"Wanna pull it out?"

I hear my heart pounding in my ears.

Glancing down, I notice his cock begin to thicken to a massive chub, which already easily matches the size of my fully erect cock. My erection strained in my pants.

"Put some damn clothes on."

I say, a bit shakily.

Jason shrugs, with an innocent grin, and turns.

Unable to resist, I watch his round ass as he goes, until he disappears into the bathroom, with the solid click of the door.

I take a deep breath, my heart still erratic. With Jason out of the room, my cock softens just slightly. Forgetting my coffee and cereal, I head over to the counter, grab my keys, and head out for work, the after image of Jason's genitals burned into my head.

. . .

"Liz O'Ryan, right? It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

A cold voice jutted sharply through the darkness that I was wrapped in. My eyes stiffly open, and I'm greeted by a single pale light that burned on lamp a few feet away.

Before me, a tall man with a narrow, bearded face slouched, studying me.

I attempted to move from my seated position, but my arms were shackled tightly to my armrests, by thick and electronic cuffs.

I was in a dark cemented room, the strong aroma of moisture and mold suggesting I was someplace beneath the earth.

Pale eyes look out from the shadows of the man's features, as he glares at me, in a form of sinister curiosity.

"Incredible,"

The man breathed, his voice icy in my ears, and I cringed at the sound.

"In this form, you look utterly human. Not a single thing out of place. No one could possibly know the monster you really are."

I say nothing, only straining against the restraints on my wrists and ankles.

"Oh,"

The man said,

"Don't try to transform darling. If those cuffs detects an abnormal heart rate or bodily changes, it will deliver a shock."

He pats a tray of tools on an aluminum cart. Knives, syringes, plyers-

I close my eyes painfully, unable to continue looking at it.

"Now, let's get to the point, shall we?"

The man said, pulling at his sleeves on his dark Night Blade suit.

"Where are the Therians hiding?"

I open my eyes, and I'm met immediately by those pale eyes, glaring expectantly.

"How did you know our routes to Washington. How did you know to ambush us."

That resulted in a chuckle from the man. He took a step away, looking rather content with himself.

Knowing he wouldn't respond, I put in:

"There's a spy among my kind. Isn't there."

It wasn't a question, and he ignores it as swiftly as he had ignored the last.

"Do I look like I'm sitting in that chair?"

He asked coldly.

"You aren't asking the questions here."

He lifts a slim knife from the tray, and thrusts it firmly into one of my quads.

Stars burst before my eyes. I scream, my throat rattling, pain burning like coals beneath the blade.

I gasp as he pulls it from my leg, looking at the blood collected on it with morbid fascination.

"I know how you freaks work. You heal quickly. So we can hurt you. Wait for you to heal, and hurt you again."

I flinch as he runs a finger along the open wound, which would be bleeding profusely if I had been a human.

"Over, and over, and over, and over."

Tears blur my vision, and spill down my cheeks.

This man can't be a human being.

I look into the man's icy eyes that burned in their sockets. He grips the knife maniacally, ready to sear my flesh at any wrong word.

"So tell me, young lady,"

He mutters.

"Where are your people?"