Slowly, the hands holding his ankles began to move apart, spreading his legs, and he began to panic that if they continued, some part of him would split. Erotic fires shot through his tortured body, reviving the forgotten erection completely, and he moaned with sudden lust. The hands on his buns nuzzled between his legs, brushing the underside of his ball-sack with soft fur.
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It was no use shouting - his bedroom was on a separate floor from the others, and the door at the top of the stairs was closed.įutilely, he struggled some more, but was quite unable to break free from them.
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His body still held firmly in four places, more furry hands began to stroke the backs of his legs and buttocks, his ears, and both nipples - all at the same time! There must be a whole group of these things, he guessed, and wondered how to escape. His cock (now much less erect) and balls were hanging down over his face, though he couldn't see them, and he relaxed slightly, trying to find enough space in his constricted chest to breathe. It occurred to him then that there must be more than one of these creatures, and sleep had cleared sufficiently from his mind for him to wonder what these monsters were, and why they had attacked him like this. Two more sets of furry fingers clamped themselves round his ankles, holding him in this extremely uncomfortable doubled-up position.
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Summoning up some long-forgotten gymnastic skill, he suddenly raised both legs until his feet were behind his head, but still no solid flesh met his powerful kicks. His feet and knees met no resistance, and he realised that its body must be behind his head. Malcolm whimpered and thrashed his body about to shake off his captor, kicking out at the end and the sides of the bed to reach the body of this creature. Automatically, he tried to lift his left arm over to release the vice-like grip, but a second furry hand was already there, holding his left wrist. Horror! Thin, strong, furry fingers gripped his right wrist, pinning it to the bed. There's nothing better than a middle-of-the-night wank to send you to sleep again, he decided, and went to move his right hand into a suitable position for doing that very thing. Starting from a perfectly ordinary (though very handsome) cock in its soft state, his lovers would begin to stir the beast into life - which happened very quickly - and after half a minute or so of gentle stimulation would find themselves with a veritable hosepipe on (or in) their hands, surmounted by a length of foreskin even when fully hard.
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Very proud of that erection, was Malcolm. Taking stock of his situation, he realised that he was lying on his back, having thrown off all the covers, and smiled to himself as he noticed that, as usual when he awoke, he had an enormous erection. It was so black he could almost feel the atmosphere round him, and wondered for a moment if that could have woken him. All around him was blackness - the deep impenetrable blackness of a moonless, starless night in a room with its heavy opaque curtains drawn.
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Malcolm woke with a terrible start, convinced that something had touched him.