Date: Mon, 3 Sep 2012 14:53:49 -0400 (EDT) From: Milford Slabaugh Subject: Penis-Snakes on a Plane, Conclusion PENIS-SNAKES ON A PLANE Conclusion: Approaching the Landing Strip By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM Charles Fogarth rested breathlessly after he had concluded his second assault. All he had to do after infecting the first few was to thrust his prongs into the general vicinity of a victim and the infected men would find their own cocks joining in the fray. Would these fools figure this out before they were all infected or not? Oh, well, a rest and then a third sally ought to finish off any surviving uninfected males. After that, if they caught him, it really wouldn't matter, things would be as complete as any one man could complete them, the American authorities couldn't possibly keep such a thorough contagion contained... And the influx of light suddenly from overhead caught him by surprise, blinding him after his long confinement in the darkened and cold compartment. Hands reached for him and he struggled, no, no, not yet, not yet! He squirmed and tried to will his body to reach out again, he had to finish, he couldn't be stopped yet, he couldn't, he couldn't! All he could do was scream incoherently as he was hauled up through the hatch into the passenger compartment! He hadn't known there was one! * * * * * Mark Hardesty grunted in satisfaction as the Marines helped haul the terrorist out of the baggage compartment. "Lock him in business with the other infected victims. We're only an hour out of Atlanta now. We've got to get to his hiding hole. He can't have come aboard this flight already infected, he must have injected himself shortly before the first assault." The Marines were dragging the struggling man toward the back of the plane. After the second assault, there was more than enough room in first class for the eight men who had escaped the invasions of the penis-snakes. Not counting the three man flight crew, of course. They had been innocent and protected throughout, the cockpit had its own air supply and the vents to it didn't connect to the rest of the airplane. Eleven men still unaffected of the two hundred who had boarded the plane! Well, now they had the source, and with any luck, these eleven at least could be ferried to safety in Atlanta. Now for the terrorist hidey-hole.... He found it easily enough, most boxes in this compartment were far too small to have held a human being; he assumed the terrorist had slipped aboard as freight. Sure enough, the solitary large box was opened at one side, the inside of it holding an empty canteen of water, empty food wrappers, a container that stank (for good reason given its purpose) and a sleeping bag that had cushioned the owner's body throughout who-knew-what. The man must be a mass of bruises underneath his clothes, such as were left on his body after those cocks had erupted out of his crotch. "Aha!" he grunted in satisfaction as he found the vial. Hoping the container label contained the chemical formula was too much, but at least he could give the vial to the scientists and hope they could figure out some sort of antidote. It had been a nightmare, but the worst of it was finally over. He hoped. * * * * * The "Seatbelt" light coming on was a blessing. The lone infection-free steward, Brad, was checking the fastenings and generally behaving like an overprotective hen. He couldn't be blamed, he was young and fresh out of stewards training, and really overwhelmed. There was a single Marine, Joe, a single sailor, Kevin, a couple of businessmen who had survived the second assault by hiding out in the restrooms (the same one, a case of avoiding sex by having sex), a young man named Lee who'd been in the back of coach, and a couple of college-aged football players traveling to a tryout with the Miami Dolphins. And Hardesty, of course. The voice of the captain came over the intercom. "We have been cleared for immediate landing. However, please do not attempt to disembark until the emergency personnel have cleared the business and coach classes. This is the opposite of our normal procedure for disembarking, of course, but the circumstances here are anything but normal. You will be met by doctors to check you over and must expect a period of quarantine." The sailor, Kevin, moaned when he heard that. "Shit! I get two weeks' leave and am going to spend the whole fucking time locked up in medical quarantine. I'd've been better off if I'd gotten fucked by the penis-snakes, at least I'd've gotten some." His seat-mate, Lee, chuckled. "I know what you mean. I fell asleep and wake up hours later to find everyone else on the plane has been gang-fucked by a swarm of horny pricks!" "At least we're safe here." Kevin stretched back in the luxurious first-class seat. "And first-class seating, too." He stretched his broad body and put his muscled arms behind his head. "I could get to enjoy this." "Me, too." Lee said and unobtrusively unbuckled his pants. From the fly, out snaked a single penis-snake. As it reached up and out, it spit into two, the two reached further and became four, the four reached further and became eight. These eight penis-snakes sidled around Kevin without touching him until he was completely surrounded and then all plunged to ensnare him at once. His exclamation was stifled before it was born as one cock was waiting for his mouth, it plunged in and snuffed out the sound at its base. His upper appendages were pinned by four more at both upper and lower arms. This left two more free which sidled up his pants legs. One balled about his crotch, capturing his cock in a python's coil-like grip, the other was seeking to bury itself into his ass. Kevin was worming about but his arms were unable to break loose and unfasten the seatbelt. He was held down as the plane began its downward spiral toward the landing pad. Lee's cock broke into Kevin's virgin ass and he moaned and writhed. Lee's response was to drive it in deeper and he promptly orgasmed in both Kevin's ass and mouth. Kevin choked, gulped on the hot, white flood and to his mortification, his own prick decided that sex was sex and burst hot sailor's jizwads out into his jockstrap, soaking it utterly and turning his white pants semi-transparent. Inside the interior after he had splattered himself, the cock-snake inside could be plainly seen and the wet material broke and the penis-snake within reared its head up and sprayed white goo up and over the hapless sailor's chest. The prick in Kevin's mouth left it and was replaced with a fully-charged one that resumed face-fucking him. Drained, Kevin quit struggling, and of the eight prongs, six relinquished him and reached for the two businessmen in front of them. The two men, Michael and Richard, found themselves attacked by three prongs each, one on each arm and the third stuffing itself into their mouths. This was the scene that caught Mark Hardesty's attention, the squirming of the men as they were held in place and mouth-fucked by the penis-snakes. "What the hell is this?" he demanded as he reached for his seatbelt. "Sir, your seatbelt!" Brad called. "You need to stay strapped down, the plane is going to land and you'll fall!" "No time for that!" Hardesty snapped. "We've still got infected passengers in first class!" Joe, the Marine, also unstrapped and they ran for the struggling businessmen. Hardesty grabbed two of the cocks and wrested them free, from Michael's mouth and right arm. Too late, the prick in his mouth was dripping come from a recently-discharged ejaculation. "Shit!" Hardesty growled. "It got them!" Joe was pulling at the pricks attacking Richard, he got the arms free and Richard reached for the one fucking his mouth, and then both he and Joe were attacked by more penis-snakes. From Kevin. His crotch had sprouted more of the dangerous dongs and they involved themselves in the fray. "You have to stop the descent!" Brad was calling into his intercom to the cockpit. "You have to stop the descent, we're under attack back here in first class! Pull back up, don't attempt to land!" And the plane tilted, not heavily, as the flight path adjusted, and Hardesty and Joe both went tumbling, the penis-snakes coming after them. Behind them, the pants of both Michael and Richard were beginning to stir, soon they, too, would be part of the attack on the few remaining passengers. The plane leveled off and went back to circle the field once again. Beneath them in the darkness, the flashing lights of the emergency vehicles flashed in reds, yellows and blues, an ineffectual light display. * * * * * Up in the cockpit, the flight crew were in contact with the ground. "Roger that." the co-pilot Stuart replied. The other co-pilot Mason and Captain Rogers was busy with the plane controls of course, so close to a city. "New orders, from Homeland Security. We aren't landing at Atlanta any longer. Instead, we divert for Robbins Air Force Base. We're ordered to assume that everyone on board the plane is infected save for the flight crew." "So we're the only three left." Mason said, smiled. "How about that?" "Lucky for us the cockpit has the independent air supply." Rogers clarified. "No place for those man-snakes to slither in here." * * * * * Outside, in first class, Hardesty was fighting for his very life! Joe had been overcome by the penis-snakes, who had wrapped him up and were now almost leisurely fucking his mouth and ass as he whimpered until the sound was cut off by the cock in his mouth filling it full of come. Poor guy, he'd fought the good fight. As for Hardesty, he had been forced to fight a defensive battle against the five cocks aimed at him. He had trapped two of them between his legs and clamped on tight. The cocks had retaliated by beginning their fuck-thrusts, but Hardesty didn't care, he was counting on that. Catching another two cocks, one under each arm, he was able to clamp the final one in his hands and hold it away from his face. If any more came his way, he'd be totally vulnerable. The other cocks, though were busily raping the rest of the remaining virgins in first class. Every man now was being penetrated by the dick-snakes...except for Hardesty, damn it! The cock between his hands squirted jizz and he crowed in triumph as it blasted harmlessly to one side. "Yeah, that's it, come on, you damned fuck tools, squirt that jizz, squirt it all, I don't fucking care, long as it don't get inside me!" The cocks sprayed, Hardesty's clothes were soaked by the splatter, but he didn't care. He'd won another round, by God! When these pricks were done squirting, he let them go, and they shriveled back towards their owners, Michael and Richard. Those two worthies were understandably wiped out by their own pricks' actions, nobody has over two dozen orgasms over the course of a few minutes without ending up only semi-conscious. By that same measuring stick, Hardesty saw that he was the sole surviving non-infected person. If they didn't land soon, his ass was going to be rammed royally by (pause to calculate, eight by seven) fifty-six hard dongs. He didn't want to think what that many dicks would do to his still unplucked virgin asshole! Well, they'd be down soon and... It was the first time he'd had the chance to notice. They weren't landing! They were climbing, gaining altitude! What the fuck? A look out the nearest porthole confirmed they were no longer over Atlanta. And for the love of God, the penis-snakes were beginning to stir again! So soon! Hardesty gulped, hard. He had to get to the cockpit. Now! * * * * * There came a call on the intercom. Stuart took it, and listened, then said, "Captain, Agent Mark Hardesty wants to enter the cockpit." "Is he joking?" Captain Rogers replied. "We were ordered to assume everyone on board was infected!" "He claims that he was able to fight off the third attack and needs to reach safety before the penis-snakes rise again. The cockpit is all we have left." Being captain involves taking risks. "I see." Captain Rogers nodded. "It's another hour to Robbins. Very well, let him in." Hardesty darted inside when Stuart opened the door. Beyond, Stuart could see that the first class section was rampant chaos. Those poor bastards, the penis-snakes now seemed to be in constant action. He shook his head and then closed the door as a penis-snake wormed its way toward the fresh male meat. "Four of us left." Hardesty said as he looked around and the plane flew on in the darkness. "Only four of us left." "They'll take good care of us at Robbins." Mason assured him. "Is that where we're going?" Hardesty asked. Mason nodded. "Robbins Air Force base." Hardesty sank into a fourth chair, used for trainee pilots, supervisors, or just plain guests in the cockpit. He was dog tired. Good to be safe at last, by God! Good to be safe at last! * * * * * An hour later, the plane approached Robbins Air Force Base. This time, the landing strip was surrounded by men, lots of men. They were armed with every kind of weapon ever heard of and a few most hadn't. Not that it mattered at this point. Stuart radioed for landing and was given the go-ahead. "All clear for landing." he told the captain. "We'll let them unload the passengers and carry them off to quarantine before we attempt to disembark." Rogers responded. "After all, there's no hurry to unload us. We're not infected." "You got that right." Mason agreed, and Rogers looked back at him and Hardesty. Hardesty was still in the fourth chair, but he wasn't alone any longer. Four cocks, two of Rogers' and two of Stuart's, were holding him in place, while Mason gave him all eight of his. Hardesty was sucking them one at a time, sucking and draining them each in turn; by the time the eighth would be sucked dry, the first one would be ready to go again. For Mason, it was a constant and unending source of pleasure, orgasm after orgasm after orgasm. Rogers brought the plane into position at the docking bay. When it was done, and the noises of unsealing came over the intercom, he locked the board and settled back. "Well, nothing to do until they get everything clear." he announced. What are we going to do while we wait?" Stuart said. "I suggest we give Mason a rest." "Sounds good to me." "I could use a break." Mason admitted. He pulled away as the other two flight officers brought their other cocks into play. Two for holding, six for pleasure. Hardesty squirmed as they pulled his pants down and groaned as his ass was now, finally, fully penetrated by one of Rogers' cocks. "I'll take his ass. You can have his mouth." Rogers informed Stuart. Rank has its privileges. Hardesty moaned again, this time in a sound of despair. "Oh, don't fret about it, Agent Hardesty." Stuart told him as he slid his cock into Hardesty's mouth. "We won't tell on you. You can get out of here and out into the wide, wide world with a bit of luck. You just have to hold onto your urges for a short time and after the first few hours, the effects are entirely at your command, you only sprout penis-snakes when you want to. Only you'll find you want to do it every chance you get. I know I do." Hardesty moaned again, in a different note, and this time Rogers recognized it for what it was. He released one of Hardesty's arms and Hardesty used his freed hand to grab and pump the cock which had held him hostage. Stuart freed his other arm and Hardesty grabbed him with the other hand. "I figured you'd come around." Rogers smiled. "We get enough men on our side..." "And what better place to start than an Air Force base?" Mason chipped in. "...we can spread our special brand of joy to the entire world." Hardesty moaned again, which was choked off as spunk hit his ass, mouth and both sides as the four busy cocks sprayed him nearly all at once. Hardesty's own cock stirred, rose and began to branch out. And outside, diligent men in the course of their duty, were busily and unknowingly unloading the seeds of their own destruction. THE END Comments, complaints or suggestions? E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM