Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Science Fiction, Post Apocalypse, Aliens, Violent, .
Desc: Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Doug Jones was helping his friend with a simple surveying job when he fell into a hole. When he came to the bottom, he was in another universe where demons had moved in to take over the world. Doug Jones was a Ranger, and he was not going to put up with this shit, so he led a rebellion by the humans against their demonic oppressors. This is the story of how that rebellion went. 11 chapters.
Dammit, how did I let myself get involved in this stupid job? Oh, I know how it happened, but maybe a better question would be why. Here I was on furlough from my 75th Ranger Battalion unit after a rough tour in Syria, and I should be relaxing with some babe in her bed with a cold beer on the bedside table within easy reach. Instead, I’m out here on some bit of Godforsaken real estate helping an old college buddy survey a bit of Nowhere, Georgia, USA.
Last night, we had been in a honky tonk bar pissing and moaning about the lack of female talent presently in the bar. Suddenly, a true babe walked in, and I kind of woke up. I said something to the effect that I was going to get a piece of that tail that just walked in, and put my drink down on the bar in preparation. My buddy said that I didn’t stand a chance, so, the next thing that I knew, I had bet him that I would accomplish my plan.
He said, “Want to bet?”
“Sure, you name it, and I’ll do it if I don’t fuck her tonight.”
“Okay, I don’t have anything in mind for the bet right now, so I’ll hold a raincheck on the bet.”
By that time, I’d had enough to drink that I was certain that I couldn’t lose. I agreed, and went after the babe. I had not quite reached her when this big bruiser came out of the office and grabbed her for a knock-down-drag-out kiss that lit up the whole bar. Oh, shit! Okay, I knew that I was shot down, so I stumbled back to my buddy and said, “You win. What do you want from me?”
“I don’t know right now, but I’ll let you know when something comes up.”
Okay, I could live with that. I knew that my buddy was not going to screw me, so I didn’t worry about it. Well, that was last night, but this morning about 6 AM I got a phone call from my so-called buddy. “Good morning, Doug. I now know what I want you to do for me to pay off that bet you lost last night.”
“Okay, fine, but couldn’t it have waited until after my first cup of coffee?”
“No way, good buddy. I need you right now. My usual helper slipped and broke his leg on the way to his car this morning, and now I don’t have a helper on a surveying job that’s worth a hell of a lot of money to me. I was up shit creek until I remembered our bet and how you never welshed on a bet in your life. Well, I hate to do it to you, old friend, but I have to call in that bet this morning.”
“Oh, God, what do I have to do? I don’t know one damned thing about surveying.”
“That’s okay. Mostly you’ll be my gofer to fetch what I might need out of the pickup. Other than that, you’ll be chopping some weeds and vines out of the way so that I can shoot my line. I’ll pick you up in 30 minutes and we can grab a quick breakfast with coffee while I explain in detail what I need you for.”
“Okay, Hank, but only because you have always been such a good buddy.”
Hank picked me up as promised, and we had breakfast while he told me more about what he wanted me to do. It was no big deal, and I couldn’t refuse when he told me how much was riding on this job. We rode out to the site, and Hank handed me a machete that was razor sharp.
“Doug, you see those vines and weeds running up that hill. Well, I have to be able to see the rod you are going to hold for me while you stand on that hill. I need for you to chop those vines and weeds out of the way so that I can shoot the line from this marker put in by the US Geodetic Survey back in the Depression. Once that line is established, I’ll be able to get the rest of my shots pretty easily. Go ahead and start while I get set up here. If everything goes well, we’ll be finished before noon, and I’ll pay for the beer for the rest of the day.”
Hell, I couldn’t argue with an offer like that, so I took the machete and started hacking. What I didn’t realize was that most of my chopping would be over my head, and that is as tiring as all get-out. Well, this was South Georgia in the summer time, and I was sweating like I was under a water hose within half an hour. Dammit, I was a Ranger, and I was not going to let a little thing like a temperature of 105°F and 90% relative humidity stop me from completing a mission! Okay, so I did take my shirt off, but that was a given.
I had been chopping for about half an hour, and I was starting to complain when it happened. I was looking up where I was chopping and not down where I was stepping, and I suddenly stepped off into nothing. There was a large diameter hole right under where I stepped. The hole was masked by the long weeds down near the ground, and I never saw the hole I stepped into.
Man, that was some hole! I fell and I fell and I fell! I have no idea how long I fell, but I felt it getting hotter and hotter as I fell. My introduction to the hole had also been an introduction to very cold air, but I never thought about it because my of main interest in the fact that I was falling. It was only later that I remembered the cold air.
Anyway, it seemed like I fell for hours before I started to slow down. I stopped falling as I landed on my feet as gently as a feather. My first thought was that I had fallen into Hell because I saw standing about 35’ away from me, a big guy with horns and a trident. He yelled to a couple of beasts standing next to him, “KILL THE INTERLOPER!”
For a moment, I didn’t know that it was me he was talking about, but the two beasts that looked like a cross between a lion and a dog charged at me. Thank God I still had hold of my sharp machete. The near lion-dog jumped at me and I was able to sidestep him as he passed. I had no time to think, I just reacted and brought the sharp edge of the machete down across the creature’s back. That was enough to put that creature out of the fight, but there was another similar beast almost within reach.
This time, I did not wait for the lion-dog to leap at me; instead, I jumped at him and poked him in its open mouth and down its throat with the machete. Shit! That was a mistake that I hoped that I never made again. The beast was dead, but the machete was stuck in his throat. On top of that, the man-like creature with the horns ran at me as if to poke me in the gut with his trident.
I was now unarmed, and they had never trained us to fight a man with a pitchfork: we were just supposed to shoot him. The problem was that I did not have a gun, but I was an instructor in “unarmed combat,” so I should be able to take care of myself.
I grabbed up a little stool that was on the floor beside me and threw that in the creature’s face. The fool ducked, and that was the distraction that I needed. Before he could regain his equilibrium, I rushed him and grabbed the business end of the trident. Son of a Bitch! That thing was hot! Nevertheless, I was able to hang on and jerk the weapon toward me. The creature with the horns automatically tried to pull back, and I let him. I did not release my hold on the trident, but I let the creature fall backwards off balance.
That was when I rushed even closer and kicked him in what I assumed were his balls. To my amazement, I got no reaction of the kind I expected. However, the creature did gasp as if I had hit his solar plexus, so I guess that the result was just as good from my point of view. My next kick was aimed at the creature’s neck, and that produced the result I wanted and expected. He clawed at his throat and tried to force his windpipe back into operation, but he was not successful.
While that was going on, I recovered my machete from the dead lion-dog and used it to cut the creature’s pants off. I wanted to see why I had no luck when I kicked him where I did. The answer was simple: he had a penis, but no balls! He did not appear to be castrated, so I had no idea what was going on, but I knew not to expect much from my next kick placed there.
I wiped the blood off my machete and picked up the trident. I didn’t think much of the trident as a weapon, but it did have a longer reach than my machete. I searched for other weapons, but I did not find anything that I thought that I could use.
I wondered where the hell I was. My first guess was Hell, but it did not seem hot enough for that. On the other hand, it did have some of the outer signs of being Hell, so I left the question in limbo for a while. I couldn’t figure out what was the reason for that long tube from the surface to wherever this was. As far as I was concerned, it was the drain for the privy of the gods. It certainly was long enough for dumping a big load of shit!
Well, one of the first things that I noticed was that I was thirsty. It had been hot enough on the surface for me to be about ready for a drink of water, and my latest exercise called that need to my attention. I looked around for something to drink. Hell, I could drink my own piss if I had to, but I sure did not want to.
Some searching did produce a bottle of a clear, but not colorless liquid. I pulled the cork and sniffed. It smelled like a very weak wine, so I decided to take a chance on it. Ever the cautious one, I tipped the bottle enough to get a little bit on my finger. If the liquid did not burn me, I was willing to try it in my mouth.
My finger survived the touch test, so I tipped the bottle just enough to get a few drops into my mouth. Wow, that stuff tasted like the best wine I had ever encountered! I did not drink any more just in case it was poison, and I wanted to see what effect it had on me after an hour or so. After that, I would drink some if I were still thirsty.
The next question was food, but I did not see anything that looked like that to me. I slipped the bottle in my pocket, the machete in my belt, and the trident in my left hand. I wanted my right hand free on a just-in-case basis. Besides, when it came to fighting, the trident was a two-handed weapon, and I could grab it with my right hand as the situation developed.
One damned thing for sure, I was not going to bull my way through this place until I found out more about it. Was I really in Hell, or was I someplace that just resembled it? If I were in Hell, then did I die when I fell down that long tube or did I get here by some other means? If I’m not in Hell, then where am I? If I am not in Hell, then I must be on another planet. I’m pretty damned sure that I did not time travel to get here, wherever here is. Shit, I can worry these questions in circles forever and never come up with an answer. I had better drop it before I go crazy over the whole stupid thing!
Hey, that looked like daylight farther down the tunnel. Maybe I have found a way out of here. I hope so because I was starting to get hungry. Uh-oh, where did that damned thing come from? I was looking at the back end of one of those lion-dogs, and it looked like I was going to have to kill it in order to get out of this tunnel. It kept staring intently at the outside, so maybe it was a guard to keep people out of this tunnel.
If it was a conscientious guard, maybe I could sneak up behind it and goose it real hard with this trident. On the other hand, it would be more of a sure thing if I could get close enough to chop it with my machete. I killed both of those other lion-dogs with my machete, so maybe I should stick with what I know? Well, now that I have some daylight to see by, I can see that the trident spikes were made of bronze, and the machete was made of steel. I think that I should go with the machete just to be on the safe side.
I laid down the trident and kept my machete in my right hand. I sneaked as close to the lion-dog as I could manage and made a power leap at the creature. Man, it looked like all of that training paid off because I landed right beside the lion-dog and took a strong swipe at it with the machete. The blade caught the creature in the back of the neck and lopped its head off before the creature could react. Its head fell to the floor of the tunnel, and its body dropped right beside it. What more could I ask for?
I wiped my machete clean on the beast’s fur and picked up the trident. I decided to carry the machete in my right hand and the trident in my left. That way, I had instant access to the weapon that would be the most useful at the moment of need.
I looked out the opening of the cave and saw a disgusting sight. One of the creature’s with the horns was beating a human man with a whip while another one of the creatures was holding off a small crowd of about 10 people with his trident. Well that was more than I could stand! The man being beaten was sure to die pretty soon if the beating continued, and I saw no sign of it tapering off.
There were some bushes between me and the site of the beating, and I could use them to mask my approach. I ran as swiftly as I could to stop the beating, but I kept the bushes between me and everybody else for as long as possible. I was only about 15 feet away from the man being beaten when I finally had to shed the shelter of the bushes.
By this time, I was moving at my full speed and I caused some consternation within the guard. Obviously, he could not fathom why a human would run toward a creature like him. Well, I answered that question in a matter of moments. I swung as hard as I could with my machete in a chopping motion against the neck of the creature with the whip. To be honest, I was amazed at how easily the machete cleaved the neck of that creature.
The guard yelled something at me; I am not even sure that it was a word or a sentence. Whatever it was, he ran toward me and extended his trident toward my gut. I parried his stroke and sort of rolled in toward him so that I could keep my trident pointed toward his. When I got close enough, I thrust my machete into the bowels of the guard, and he went down like a falling sack of potatoes!
There was a collective gasp from the small crowd, and all but one of them fell to their knees. The sole exception, an elderly man, came toward me and bowed. He said, “Thank you for trying to save us from the pit. Are you the Chosen One?”
I was so amazed that I could understand him that I was dumbfounded for a moment. I opened and closed my mouth a few times before words would finally come out. “Please forgive me for seeming to ignore your courtesy and your question. I am amazed that I can understand you. You are welcome, but I need several questions answered. First of all, who is the Chosen One?”
“Yes, I can see from your dress that you are a foreigner. I am glad that you can understand me. That could make an awkward situation much simpler. The Chosen One is the magical individual who is to rescue us from the invaders from Hell.”
“Okay, I doubt that is I, but I will do what I can for you. My second question is what is this pit that I have saved you from?”
“The pit is the common name for the holding area where humans are held before they are sacrificed and eaten. The nearest pit is about five miles that way.” He pointed to what I guessed to be the northwest and the way this road seemed to be heading.
In the process of looking where the man had pointed, I saw that the man being beaten was now unconscious and looked to me to be close to death. “Can something be done for that unfortunate man?”
“Ah, no, I am afraid that Peter is about to join our ancestors. We have no medicines, and he looks to me that he needs the Water of Life to recover from that beating.”
“Well, I don’t have any of that, but maybe some of the liquid that I do have could help him.” I took out the bottle and poured a few drops into his mouth. I am not quite sure why I did that, but it seemed like the thing to do.
A few seconds later, Peter opened his eyes, and we could see the welts on his back healing themselves! Not much later, Peter stood up and said, “Johnathon, who was it that fed me the Water of Life?”