The Missile 4
Copyright© 2026 by Zen Master
Chapter 10: Goo and Loot
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 10: Goo and Loot - The fourth in a continuing series about how the Missile came to be the man we all know.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft mt/Fa GameLit
We took off with Eric in front as usual, and Margie right behind him to provide artillery support. Then Cindy, George, Matt, and me in the back.
It didn’t work. We weren’t following a trail, and I was calling up from the back that “We need to veer a little more to the left”.
None of us were trackers and we were mostly following my vague feeling that we were headed towards our goal. Every so often one of us would notice something scraped up on the ground, but whether that was an important clue or not none of us could tell. Was ‘tracking’ a skill here? Maybe we needed some lessons from the real hunters back on Earth, the ones that tracked a wounded deer.
Maybe my Goal skill needed the adds it got from the ‘Bless’ spell. “Eric! Let’s stop and talk for a second!”
He stopped, and we all stopped when we got to him. “What’s up?”
“This isn’t working. I don’t want to be the party leader, but I think I need to be in front for this. If Cindy ‘Blesses’ us, my Goal skill is a lot better and we can move faster. Someone else can be looking ahead and saying ‘Go right around that group of trees, it’s more clear’. If we get ambushed I’ve got my shield.”
“How about I stay in front with you right behind me? Or, yeah, having your shield out front would be nice. How about you in front with me right behind you? Then Margie, Cindy, Matt, and George to protect our backs?”
“Either one would work. The one in front looking directly in front of him for problems, the next guy looking up ahead some to pick the best path.”
“Okay, what’s your Health? Mine’s 43 out of 47, I got splashed some with venom during that first fight.”
I had to check. “It’s still 21 of 21.”
“21 is good. I’ve heard of better, but anything above 15 or so is good for a first-level. I was 18. Still, even injured some I’ve got more than twice your Health. If it wasn’t for your shield, I’d insist I’ve gotta be in front. I guess I can support it either way. George, what’s your health?”
“18 of 23. I got splashed bad, but I didn’t want to complain.”
“Is it still going down?”
“No, it stopped going down when I rinsed it off.”
“Right. Okay, yeah, you’re our rear guard, but your shield is good, too. If we call for help we’ll need it pretty fast.”
“That’s fine. Just, if you call for help and Cindy’s in trouble, I’m saving her first. Nothing personal.”
“No sweat.” He laughed. “I’d choose her over you, too. She’s a LOT better looking than you are. Nothing personal!”
Then, to me, “Okay, me first, to pick our exact path and kill ambushers. You second, to keep us on track and tell us when to go around something. Margie to provide close air support, then Cindy in the middle, and Matt and then George to cover our backs. Got it?”
I answered “Yep” followed by “Yes”, “Got it”, and three more acknowledgements. Eric asked for a ‘Blessing’.
“Oh, hell, she’s only a couple hundred yards ahead of us. We gotta go right some.”
“Alright, let’s go get this DONE! George, keep looking around, but we’ll want you up front for the fight.”
“Just let me know.”
The ground wasn’t really broken like north Alabama, but it wasn’t really flat either. There were rises, drops, and roots to climb over and fallen trees to go around. We picked up the speed as much as we could, though. The sooner we caught up with them the shorter the chase would be.
Humans and wolves were persistence hunters. We could walk, run, or trot farther than anything else on Earth. Could injured giant magical alien spiders fleeing for their lives out-grit a tribe of humans following them?
No. They weren’t moving very fast when we caught up with them. I was minded of the saying I’d heard about Army and Marine snipers. “There’s no point in running, you’ll only die tired.”
None of them were looking back, either. When we saw them, there were eight or ten big ones, several smaller ones, and a huge one with at least one broken leg. They were all struggling up the small rise on the other side of a little gully.
Eric stopped us, saying “We’re going to get as close as we need to, then I want Margie and Matt to give them everything you can while they are all bunched up together. Save one for self-defense. Then, me and Sam and George are gonna hafta deal with whatever’s left. Drop your packs here and we’ll go. Matt, you tell us when we’re close enough.”
I don’t know if they heard us, or maybe they felt the vibrations of our footsteps through the ground, or what, but before we got very close they all stopped and turned around. Then, all of them except the queen and a couple of the little ones charged at us.
We’d stopped again. Eric said “Matt...”
Matt said “Not yet. Sorry!” Then “Okay, now!”
He and Margie both threw fire at them a couple of times. Some of them didn’t get hit at first, but both Mages threw fire in front of the ones that were still coming, and only one big one and a couple of small ones actually made it to us. Eric took the big one and I got one of the small ones.
I learned something interesting that day. When you smash something soft and squishy from above, most of the splash goes sideways. When you smash something soft and squishy from the side, though, most of the splash goes up and down. Now, down isn’t a problem, it just hits the ground and that’s okay.
Up, though, lands on me. Some of it ran down my arm, I guess, and onto my wrist. GODDAM THAT HURT! I didn’t scream. I did get to yell ‘Fuck!’ pretty loudly, though.
Lesson learned: I want to ALWAYS have a water bottle handy. Not safely stored in my pack, safely dropped in a pile well away from the fight. I want it in one of my pockets. Or maybe in a pouch hanging from my belt.
Goddam that hurt! If my hand hadn’t clenched my mace so hard I probably would have dropped it. If George got splashed with this stuff in our first fight, no wonder he screamed when another spider dropped down on top of him. Or even within ten feet of him. That venom was no joke!
And if it had been injected inside me? Whether it killed me or not may not matter, if I was in so much pain I couldn’t move. Didn’t spiders try to paralyze their victims and then eat them alive? I was beginning to understand why Eric hated spiders so much. I’d have to get that story out of him, too, someday.
Cindy asked if I was okay. No. I’m not.
“I want to wash this off my hand, but we can’t right now. We gotta go get the rest of them before they get away. Everybody else okay?”
Yes, everyone else was okay. Apparently, sharp blades that slice don’t make splashes as well as blunt baseball bats that smash.
Eric asked how bad I was hurt.
I checked. I mean, I knew how much my wrist hurt, but how badly was I injured? My status said I was at “21/21”. Crap.
“I’m not even down one point. It just hurts. Let’s go get the rest before they get away.”
Cindy said “I can heal you.”
“And if, in three minutes, there are four of us with critical wounds? No, save it. George and Eric are both already hurt worse than me. I mean, yes, do it, but not until everyone who needs it worse than me is done. Now, let’s go kill Big Mama.”
I talked to a doctor about that, the next time I saw one. He walked me through understanding what had happened. What is ‘pain’? It’s a sensory nerve telling the rest of the body that sump’n ain’t right here.
And, where are our sensory nerves concentrated? Almost all of them are in our sensory organs where they’ll do the most good. Our eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, for sight, hearing, smell, and taste.
And, our biggest sensory organ, our skin. We don’t have many pain nerves inside our body. Some, but not many. Mostly, our sensory nerves monitor the protective layer around the important stuff. Our skin lets us know when we’re getting cut, smashed, burned, or frozen.
Every injury, no matter how small, gets reported. It has to be that way, because a cut only affects a small area, but if it goes in deeper than the skin that complains, it can kill us. Either by cutting an artery so we bleed to death, or by disabling us because of cut muscles, torn ligaments, or broken bones, or by slicing open the vital organs deeper inside. Even a small cut hurts a lot. It’s SUPPOSED to!
A minor injury that’s spread over a large area of our skin will get complaints from thousands or millions of nerves, and our body interprets that as a critical injury that is going to kill us soon when it’s really just a minor sunburn or chemical burn.
Maybe I should have used a machete against those things?
Anyway, my wrist felt like it was on fire, but I could still fight. And I really, REALLY wanted to go kill the rest of the spiders. We crossed over the little gully and trudged up the slope to where Mama and her last two remaining babies had turned to face us.
Eric stopped us not too far away, maybe ten yards or so. “Margie? Matt? Y’all got anything left?”
Margie had two, with more soon. Matt had one, and it would be awhile for any more.
“Margie first. If you take out Big Mama the little ones won’t be hard.”
She threw fire and it hit right before them, splashing Mama and one baby. She said that she’d intended to hit the queen, but it being uphill probably threw her aim off. The uninjured baby skittered off to the side, away from the fire.
Eric had Matt go next. Maybe he was listening to what Margie said, because he hit the queen directly on the big part of her body. I don’t know what there is about spiders that can burn, but she was definitely on fire for a few seconds.
Eric told Margie to do the same thing again, for the last baby. The splash had a better chance of hitting it than directly. That worked, she got mostly ground and leaves and clutter, but part of it hit the baby.
Eric nodded and said “Okay, that’s it for the air strike. Now us grunts gotta go in and finish the job. Staffers, keep looking around for more trouble.”
We had to trudge up the rest of the incline to finish them off. Eric took the queen and left the two babies for me and George. I took the one that had evaded the fire at first, as it was on my side. It wasn’t dead, but only a couple of its legs still worked. He waved them at me.