WARNING: If it is illegal for you to be reading these stories or you find them disgusting or immoral, please refrain from reading further. Must be 18+ to read! Any characters, places, or people depicted in this story is entirely in the fantasy and imagination of the writer and in no way reflects his/her personal morals or beliefs when relating to relationships between minors and adults. Any people, places, or actions depicted in this story that reflect real life events or situations is entirely by accident or coincidence.

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Chapter Fourteen

 

The faint blue-green floating clock on the terminal read 5:50AM when I finally opened my eyes. Damn, I was off schedule for me, at least. The red dot in the upper left corner indicated there were messages. I untangled myself from Travis and dragged myself out of bed and began my daily routine. Once my coffee was ready, I sat down in front of the screen and pulled up the messenger app.

One message from Rene Laurent: "I hope you and your `chosen one' enjoy your new home. RL" Nice of him, I suppose.

The second message was from Robert, which cryptically just said: "Come up before 7am. I have something you might be interested in."

That was intriguing, so I pulled on my shorts and went out to see what he was on about. It was getting close to bedtime for the raccoons, so I wasn't surprised to see a very tired-looking Reggie come out to the desk. I waved at him and continued on to Robert's work space. Robert looked up when I came in and motioned for me to come over and take a seat. After a bit of typing, he pulled up scans of some hand-written documents, all in Cyrillic.

"My Russian is poor at best, but I was intrigued just by the illustrations" he said.

I leaned in for a closer look. The illustrations he spoke of were a complete crude layout of the compound; what was more intriguing to me were the captions. "Открыт 1866 г." one said – discovered in 1866.

"What the hell?" I said.

"What does that word mean?" Robert asked, "my Russian vocabulary is shit."

"It translates as discovered" I said.

"Discovered? Then this place wasn't actually built by the Cabal?" he said rhetorically.

"Who could have built something this sophisticated prior to 1866? That's the question" I said.

"The illustrations start to get really interesting around page 10" he said.

Robert reached in a drawer and pulled out a flash drive and downloaded the documents onto it for me to look at later.

"Run the blackout program when you pull these up on your terminal" he said. He had programmed a routine that simulated a person working to the overseers, allowing what we were really doing to be hidden.

"Sweet dreams, Robert" I said, and headed back to my quarters.

 

Travis was still in bed when I came back. I undressed and slipped back in beside him. I slid my hand down his front and it bumped into a very hard dick. Travis woke up and said, "Sorry, this one is a piss hard-on" as he jumped out of bed and went to the toilet. After the flush, he came walking back with his hard dick bouncing.

"Now, this one...this one is for you" he said, walking up and `booping' me on the nose with his erection. I grabbed it and pulled back the skin and ran my tongue around the head several times, then slowly swallowed the entire length. He crawled across me to his side of the bed and turned around into the 69 position. I wasn't hard yet; so much on my mind. He very gently came near me and sniffed the area, taking in my scent. His tongue delicately danced around the end of my puckered foreskin until my hardening cock started pulling it back. As soon as the skin cleared the head, his mouth replaced it. Taking that as my cue, I swallowed him again and let my throat muscles squeeze on his shaft.

"Come up here" he whispered "I want to kiss."

I turned around and we lay side by side for a while, kissing and staring into each other's eyes. I felt him reach between us and take both cocks in his hand and begin jacking us off together. Reluctantly, I broke off our kisses and rolled on top of him, sitting up and taking over the masturbation. I could fell the cum rising in me and abruptly, all I wanted was for him to be inside me. I spit in my hand and wet my ass and then his dick; then positioned him at my back door and started pushing downward. I flinched a little when the head popped in, but kept going until he was buried inside me. I stopped moving for a minute to adjust, and leaned down to kiss him again. Wrapping his arms around me, he rolled us into the missionary position and began pumping me like a piston in a motor. This, however, was not the rapid `teenager-in-the-back-seat' fucking; this was slow, methodical, adult love-making. I was rubbing my hands over his chest and stomach feeling the action of the muscles underneath the skin. I felt him tighten up, close to orgasm; he stopped cold and leaned in to kiss me again. After regaining composure, he started the slow movements again until he was on the edge a second time; then stopped and kissed me some more. The third time, even though he tried to keep up the slow pace, his need to cum was so urgent he couldn't stop again. He let out a half groan, half scream when he came, shoving himself as deep in me as he could get. Afterwards he collapsed on top of me, into the pool of hot jism he'd just forced out of me. He continued to kiss and caress me for another long while, probably fifteen minutes or more. I couldn't help but compare the experience to my frantic trysts with Michael. I quickly sniffed the air, searching for traces of the metallic gas. There were none I could detect. This had been all us, and all real and natural.

"My God, I love you" I said, looking into his half-closed eyes.

"If you need to hear the words, I love you too" he said quietly.

Although I was loath to release his manhood from its resting place; I knew we had to get up and start our day. We made our way into the bathroom and I emptied out, then joined him in the shower where we washed each other all over.

 

 

The dogs had called a conference today, so he would be spending the day on that level. I had strong suspicions that the meeting would be about him choosing to leave his `clan' and move in with me, but after what just took place, I wasn't too worried about it. My off time was used up, so I had to go back to work today. I realized I had not even checked on my new workspace. I started to leave the room, when I remembered the flash drive. I went back and took the drive out of my dirty shorts and pocketed it, then made my way down the hall to the work room.

The first three hours I continued the work that I knew was nonsense; but I made it look like I was really trying. Hour four, I started Robert's app and entered my code. On the screen-in-screen I could see what was being monitored; it appeared I was still working on the meaningless project. On the real-time screen I opened the flash drive.

Robert has neglected to mention that 1866 was a relatively recent date, compared to some in the illustrations. One crude map of the upper three levels appeared to be on parchment and was said to carbon date to around the early 1600s. Page 10 was indeed interesting, as it was a cross section drawing of the complex comprising the otter's artificial river/lake complex and the bear's forest above. Apparently, the entire thing was in the shape of a flattened hourglass. The water was being pumped up one side of the cylinder, slowly made its way across the very slight downward slant to the other side where it came back to the otter level as a trickling waterfall on down one wall; then the whole process began again. Considering that a decent volume of water would be lost feeding the forest; I magnified the drawing looking for a replenishment water source. In the center, where Tarka's island would be, the drawing showed an open trap door with an `X' on it. I started to click close on the illustration when I noticed the decorations on the border. I dragged the magnification cursor over it, and I found it wasn't just random scribbling, but some kind of lettering. I made a mental note to ask if Robert has noticed it, then closed the drawing ejected the flash drive, and ended the fake-work program so I could sign out.

I decided that a visit to Tarka was in order. I was getting ready to leave when Travis came in for his lunch break.

"How's the conference going?" I asked.

"Four hours of psychoanalysis explaining to me why I would want to go here with you. Primarily Simon, who doesn't believe in the concept of `love', so he is trying to find a `real reason' behind my `acting out' behavior" he said.

"And has he found it yet?" I asked.

"I told him, if I came back up there, it would be to work on company projects. Not to be lectured to or studied" he said.

"I thought it was supposed to be an all-day thing" I said.

"At the end of hour two Whit and Rod bowed out. Those two actually do believe love exists, they told Simon they'd experienced it quite intimately" he said.

"Good, that means you're free to go for a swim" I said.

"Afraid not, love. What it means is since Simon wasted the half of the day I would have been working; I'll be working now till the end of the day" he said, "but you go ahead, you don't have to sit with me."

"If you can, finish up early and come join us" I said, kissing him on his forehead, "Love you."

"Love you, too" he said as he walked toward the work room.

 

 

I was so happy to see Tarka had brought lunch out again. I was starving since I didn't eat breakfast and just skipped lunch. Tarka, Noah, Colin and Sean were all seated at the picnic table eating sandwiches and drinking beer. I looked at the spread and saw Tarka had brought a big bowl of chicken salad. I pulled that bowl to me and Colin handed me a couple of slices of bread and a beer.

Between bites I said "I had an early morning visit with Robert."

"Early morning?" Tarka said, "that must mean they found the archived files."

"He gave me a copy of the folder they already decrypted. After lunch, we need to go exploring on your island" I said. "There was a map of sorts, complete with the old `X' marking the spot."

"Your `X' would be the place Johnny calls the fallout shelter" Noah said.

"Gruesome" Tarka said, "I prefer the term foyer. It's a small room with one locked door and the carved doorways in the other three walls."

"I wonder what's behind the regular door" I asked nobody in particular.

"Nobody knows, there is no sign of a handle or even a locking mechanism" Tarka said.

"Who could have built a place like this hundreds of years ago?" I said.

"Hundreds of years?" Colin repeated my words.

"Yes. The newest of the illustrations have captions indicating parts of this place were discovered in 1866; that's the most recent drawing" I emphasized. "Who had the technology to design and build this place prior to the 1600s; that's when the earliest drawings were made" I replied. I explained the drawing showing the connection between the otter's environment and the forest above.

We all stripped off and swam over to the island. Tarka and Noah led the way to the `foyer' (I preferred the implications of a foyer to those of a fallout shelter). There was about 60cm between the surface and the point at which I could make out the hinge of the now permanently open door. The first ladder rung was roughly another 30cm inside the hole.

"Hold on" Tarka said, pulling out a box he'd stashed in the bushes nearby. He came over with a battery powered lantern; one of the kind they issued us for use if the power went down. He climbed down first, I followed. The room was absolutely perfect; smooth as glass, perfect 90º angles, and perfectly squared engravings of doors. The one physical door appeared to be some sort of metal; it was black and stood approximately 215cm tall by 90cm wide. As Tarka said there was no handle, no lock, nothing. The fit was so tight against the jamb, it almost looked carved like the other `doors'. I held the lantern up and examined the area. To the left of the black door I thought I saw something but quickly lost focus in the near darkness. I turned toward the ladder when I heard Tarka draw in his breath, "Look Henry!" he said. When I turned back around some kind of lettering appeared to be glowing from the wall where I'd held the light; it only showed a minute, then disappeared.

"We need a more powerful light source and an anthropologist/historian/linguist" I said.

"I can help you with the light source" Sean said.

"That'll be a start" I said, "same time, same place tomorrow gentlemen?"

We all agreed to meet back tomorrow.

"Henry, have you briefed Travis on any of this?" Tarka asked.

"As strongly as I feel for Travis, I'm erring on the side of caution at this point" I said. "He was part of the dog group. I'll feed him some insignificant information and see if it goes anywhere it shouldn't first."

 

Lambodara 10/24/20

lambodara@protonmail.com

As always, comments and feedback are welcome!