Date: Sat, 16 Sep 2017 02:23:11 -0400
From: Milford Slabaugh <tommyhawk1@aol.com>
Subject: Dash Hogan and the Aborignes of Ganymede

		 DASH HOGAN AND THE ABORIGINES OF GANYMEDE
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     Beyond radio contact! Hip, hip, horray! Dash no longer had the General
calling him at all hours of the day and night and demanding immediate
answers to his every suspicion. Now that he was well past the asteroid belt
and approaching Jupiter, the speed-of-light law (which also applied to
radio signals) had made two-way conversation a practical impossibility. At
his current position, his response to a question from the General took
twenty-five minutes to get to Earth and another twenty-five minutes to get
back to him after the General had figured out what to say. His power
wouldn't let him leave the radio on that long of a time (even if he hadn't
starved to death sitting by the radio), so the General had given up. From
now on, he'd send Dash a single message each day, and Dash was to listen to
it and respond within twelve hours' time. Giving him plenty of time to
figure out exactly how to not-answer the questions the General kept asking.
     Given he hadn't arrived at Jupiter yet wasn't the issue, the General
was still ripping on him for his handling of the Asteroid Civilization on
Vesta. Like having sex with the entire male members of a single family was
some kind of crime! If he hadn't, those men would have all died!
     But while the General still had some kind of bone up his ass about
Vesta, he was now limited to a single tirade a day...heavenly! And
meanwhile, Jupiter's moons beckoned.
     As any proud gay man would, he chose Ganymede, named after one of
Zeus' little adventures with a young Greek prince, which he'd liked so
much, he'd carried him up to heaven to keep serving him forever after. All
the women, he'd just knocked up and forgot about!
     Jupiter put out quite a bit of heat itself, what with all the sunlight
it was reflecting off an enormous amount of clouds. He stepped out into a
jungle what would have done credit to the Amazon River Basin. That is, how
it used to be before it got deforested to let more cows graze. That had
cost the old Earth dearly a hundred years ago, but the forests were coming
back now that Mankind was planting trees instead of cutting them down.
     He stepped onto the fetid soil and declared, "I come from Earth and I
come in peace!" He lifted his hand to continue. "Let these first steps be
the path which all Mankind can follow!"
     His only applause was the loud crackle of a bird of some sort in a
tree overhead. No centers of population had been visible, Dash was
beginning to wonder if he'd finally found a planet unpopulated by an
intelligent species. If so, Mankind would be moving in here in force in no
time.
     Well, best look around before reporting such back to the General. With
any mistake taking a full day to correct, he'd better get his facts
straight before he said word one. He set out to explore the immediate
area. If he could spot a mountain, or even a fair-sized hill, he'd scale
it, otherwise, he'd get back into the ship and raise up high enough to
scout the area.
     Trouble was, in this place, it was hard to see the ground for all the
undergrowth about. He was stepping without really being able to see where
he was.... Whoop!
     His foot slipped on a root and Dash fell backwards onto the
ground. Hard! It knocked the wind out of him and he lay for a few seconds
to recover before trying to get up. That was where he made his big mistake!
     The roots he had tripped over where busily crawling over him. Wherever
they touched his jumpsuit, it fell into ribbons and disintegrated. He tried
to move, but found himself either paralyzed or held down (he couldn't tell
which, he didn't see anything but couldn't move enough to investigate
well), and being alone and out of touch with Earth didn't sound so damned
swell as it had a half hour ago. Oh, if he didn't report in, Earth would
send out a rescue team in a couple of weeks, and it'd take them about
another month to get here. In other words, they'd arrive in time to find
his bones after the carnivores on this planet were done with him.
     He was naked now, he looked to see that the roots had grown over and
anchored his body in several parts. He wasn't covered by them, but he was
effectively hogtied. And these roots weren't moving. Maybe the plant
figured that if it waited, he'd grow another jumpsuit for them to eat!
Well, that was going to be a joke on it. Maybe the roots would give up and
let him go.
     Days on Ganymede were a bit more than a week long, same as its
"J-year," for the moon (though a respectable size) was tidally locked like
Earth's own Moon, and kept the same face toward Jupiter, he'd have to wait
for another three days to have darkness to sleep. Not to mention a night in
the jungle didn't sound healthy. Dash felt groggy anyhow. He slept.
     He heard voices some unknown time later (he might have marked time by
looking at Jupiter to see what phase it was in, but he hadn't noticed which
phase Jupiter was in when he'd been caught, so that didn't help), and tried
to rise (same wasted effort, he didn't move enough to matter) and he tried
to call out. Tried, that is, all he got out was a gutteral sort of
"Gruhhhhhh!"
     The voices grew closer and their tones were excited. Dash tried again
and again to say something anything. "Gruhhhh, GRUH, GRUH, GRUH-GRUHHHHH!"
Dash moved and realized that he had a thundering erection as well, what a
hell of a time for a piece of morning wood!
     The voices began a rhythmic chanting and Dash, with a great effort,
turned his head and saw the natives. Oh, God! While humanoid enough in
appearance, they were only about four inches high! Could they understand
his predicament, would they cut the roots that bound him and set him free?
     He moved the only way he could, he thrust his hips up into the air and
that slapped his cock back and forth so that it hit his stomach over and
over, and he groaned/spoke his urgency. "GRUH-UH-UH-GRUH-HUHHH!"
     The natives were dancing around in some sort of ceremony, one of them
was decorative enough to be either a chieftain or a shaman or both, he was
in charge and he was telling the other men (only men were present in the
assembly) what to do.
     At some point, the chieftain/witch doctor made a selection among the
men. Whatever he was being chosen for, it wasn't an honor, for the chosen
one showed signs of panic and was grabbed by his comrades and dragged
forcibly toward Dash.
     Dash realized that this young miniature man (if he'd been life-sized,
he'd have been a major hunk) was to be a sacrifice...to Dash! Good grief,
they'd heard his moans and thought he was an evil demon or something, a
evil god to be sacrificed to! Would they stuff the hapless stud down his
throat...and him unable to do much about it! He tried to protest, "GRUH!
GRUH! GRUH-UHHHHH!"
     The aborigines made a miniature expedition and crawled up a thick root
and onto Dash's chest. From this vantage, he finally got a decent look at
them. Humanoid indeed! Visualize a native of Hawaii before all the white
men moved in, tall, strong, brown-skinned and handsome, with a broad chest,
slim waist rippled with six-pack abs and strong legs. These aborigines wore
only a sort of T-shaped jockstrap that covered the natives' asses but did
nothing to cover their penises in front. The one they'd chosen for his
sacrifice was very well hung, Dash noticed. Now, if they just sat this
native down in front of his mouth, he'd show that he was far from
unfriendly by giving that aborigine the best hummer you can give a penis
about the size and shape of the business-end half of a broken matchstick.
     But the aborigines didn't approach Dash's mouth after all, instead
they ferried him toward the tower of Dash's raging boner. He hadn't gotten
soft as he squirmed, he'd gotten hornier! Too horny for comfort, even. His
cock would no longer move when he squirmed, and the agile-footed natives
barely broke stride to keep their footing on his stomach as he
struggled. "Gruh, gruh, gruh-guh!" Dash protested.
     Heedless of Dash's strangled sounds, the aborigines bound their
captive stud to Dash's cock like it was a sacrificial post, the aborigine
was stripped of his butt-strap (it didn't function anything like a
jockstrap, after all) and left naked and hugging Dash's prick whether he
wanted to or not.
     The other natives then began another dance near Dash, the drums they
were beating (they'd brought those in to complement their chanting while
the aborigine was being lashed to Dash's cock) and the pounding drums
seemed to be stimulating the captive now hugging Dash's pud.
     The captive began to squirm, struggling to be free. He moaned and
ground against Dash's cock to try to get loose.
     Shit, this was working Dash's cock! The native didn't mean to push up
and down on Dash's cockskin, but that's what he was doing. His panic was
palpable, but his movements were frenetic and that was driving Dash to
rapid orgasm.
     And all he could do was groan about it. "GRUH-GUH, GRUH-UH-UH, GRUH!"
He snarled out. What he had tried to say was, "Oh, yeah, pump it for me,
stud!"
     Somewhere in there, the captive realized what he was doing. Now,
instead of struggled to get loose, the native (Dash decided to give him an
interim name of "Cap," short for "Captive") began to deliberately move his
body up and down, moving Dash's shaft-cover to work his prod up and down.
     A stream of precome reached down to flow onto Cap's head. Cap felt the
heat of the fluid and looked up at the crystalline globule reaching for him
and he reached his face up and to Dash's astonishment, slurped the blob (it
would have made a good cupful for a full-sized human) down.
     Licking his lips (Cap liked it!), Dash's personal native playtoy began
to work him faster and faster. He still licked at the precome still
dribbling down, cleaning Dash's prick as he worked it harder and milking
more out, and Dash was groaning and moaning, now, really moaning and
groaning! "Uh-uh, uh-huh, uh, gruh-gruhuh gruh GRUH!" he said, which was
moan-speak for "I'm going to come!"
     The aborigine was rubbing him and must have felt the heat for he
worked Dash's cock even faster, and Dash moaned and squirted his jizz out
into the skies.
     Cap was in position to be splattered the most and he was, but other
globs landed on Dash's lower chest and stomach. Cap's face was raised up to
let the spunk splash his face as it fell, a huge wad landed on his face and
practically covered it entirely, another smaller one landed on Cap's left
shoulder and ran a thick streak down his back.
     Dash finished coming, slumped back and his cock deflated, which freed
the native. The bonds which had held him were tied to themselves but to
Cap, he merely stepped out of the loops that now ringed Dash's cock's base.
     Cap turned and looked at Dash through come-smeared eyelashes, and gave
Dash a definite grin. He then reached up and to Dash's astonished eyes, Cap
began to use Dash's spunk to wash his body, pulling it off his face and
down onto his body, smearing the white goo all over his chest and stomach,
then he reached down and grasped his little match-stick pud and began to
whomp it. A few jerks was all Cap required, and then he came, as well,
splattering Dash with his microscopic measure of come, and aimed it so it
landed right in Dash's navel!
     Other aborigines came up then and as Dash watched, they first sampled,
then began to greedily lap up Dash's jizz. More began to lick Cap clean and
he stood, grinning and Dash realized that Cap knew he would be treated this
way. Cap was now the anointed high-priest of the bound god Dash!
     The natives moved over to clean the squibs off of Dash's cockhead and
the licking and touching caused his erection to slowly rise up again. No
question of a victim this time, three of them immediately began to use
their hands to stroke Dash up and down. Dash was helpless, unable to talk
and unable to protest as his cock was again pumped by the aborigines to a
second orgasm, and this time, the natives fought among themselves to get
the juice as it flowed out in a much-weaker stream.
     Dash realized that now these aborigines had him as a personal source
of god-milk, they were not going to want to let him go. Not that the roots
holding him made that likely....  * * * * *
     "And yet I did get free." Dash reported back at the ship nearly a week
later. "What saved me was simply the natives' entrepreneurial spirit. They
realized that they didn't have to hang around in the middle of the jungle
to service me, they could cut me free and take me back with them to their
village where I'd be more comfortably available to milk of my sperm. I
played along and let them introduce me to their society, I spent three days
sitting comfortably in a lean-to they put together for my temple, fed by
their best produce and spoils of their hunts roasted over tiny fires, and I
had four warriors busily working my dick every time I got a half-hardon for
them to work with. Once I felt sure they trusted me, I slipped out and made
it back to the ship. If you want to send an expedition to this moon to
examine the flora and fauna, all I can say is bring some young college
hunks for the aborigines to milk and you'll have no problems setting up
camp anywhere you want to."
     Dash hung up the radio and turned it off. It would turn on
automatically again in about three hours for the General's daily
message. The General would have had just enough time to compose a long
diatribe to lambaste him with.
     Dash was almost looking forward to it.
     Next stop...Callisto! He'd be there in only a couple of hours, maybe
he'd better get a good night's sleep before he took off.

                             THE END
               Comments, complaints or suggestions?
             E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
                  WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM