This choice: Sprint down the stairs and get to the car. • Go Back...Chapter #6Escaping by the skin of his teeth by: RoyalJelly   Dave flung open the door and scrambled into the dismal, dimly-lit hallway, hurling himself down the stairs nearly a flight at a time. He had no idea what was going on in Lara's head, but Libby's corruption had clearly wormed its way into her mind. He bypassed the empty reception desk and ran out into the open air. He scanned the parking lot before finding his car, a gray Honda sedan. He jogged to the driver's side door and fumbled around, looking for his keys. Oh god, did he leave them in the room? He didn't have time to go back, Lara must be a minute out by this point. He slapped at his back pockets, and felt a metallic lump. Sighing with relief, he grabbed the key and shoved it into the lock.
It was then he could see a cloud of dust on the horizon. Dave squinted at it, his mind not quite grasping what it was until it had grown dangerously close. In the center of the cloud, he began to make out Lara's form as it sprinted towards the hotel, her arms and legs moving almost inhumanly fast. A small, suicidally-idiotic portion of his brain wasted precious seconds wondering how she could run that fast without her colossal tits bouncing up into her face and knocking her out cold. By all accounts, he couldn't see so much as a jiggle from them. Libby must have--oh shit.
Dave hopped into the car, locking the door behind him, before jamming the key into the ignition. As he put the car in gear, he saw Lara skidding to a halt outside the motel parking lot's entrance. He could see the look of exultation on her face even from across the lot. He careened out of his space, taking his car straight through the dead grass separating the motel from the road. The car's tires screeched as Dave pulled onto the frontage road, his car's engine roaring into life as he slammed the accelerator, begging for whatever god of the road could exist to give him a jolt of nitrous, a speed booster, anything. He cursed himself for picking out a car based on its gas mileage and price; why couldn't he have guessed that he would need to race away from his magic, sex-crazed wife and her new elder-goddess friend? Hindsight was a bi--
Dave glanced down at the dash. He had just passed the 60 miles per hour mark on the odometer. Lara could have caught up with him easily at this point, but she hadn't. Was she on the roof? Did she somehow worm her way into the trunk? Oh god what if she could turn herself invisible somehow? Shaking, Dave glanced into the rear view mirror. Lara was standing in the middle of the road, hands on her hips. Dave sighed in relief, trying to suppress the trace of fear that was eating at his innards. He had gotten away. He could win this.
---
You let him get away, said Libby's voice in Lara's head, a tinge of irritation in her tone. You could have had him! You could still have him! He hasn't gotten up to speed yet! Why aren't you--
"I didn't let him get away," said Lara, reaching to the ray gun in the holster she had purchased this morning. "I'm making a point."
The hell are you talking about? He must be a half a mile away by now!
"How's your aim?" asked Lara, leveling the ray gun at the fleeing car.
What?
"Well, seeing as how you're an actual goddess, I'm guessing that you must have some decent aim. Don't male octopi mate by throwing their dicks at a female or something? I'm guessing you need pretty good aim for that."
Well, yes, but--
"He's getting away, Libby. Am I on target?"
I-- began Libby, before comprehension dawned in her mind. Oh. No, aim up a little bit--a bit more, okay, now a smidge down and to the left--There!
Lara pulled the trigger on the ray gun, a thin pulse of pink light shooting from the remote-control-like LED on the end. She smiled, knowing that on some level Dave'd enjoy this as much as she did.
"I didn't let him go," said Lara, her voice diminishing to a dramatically-hushed tones. "I made a point. It's all about the hunt, not the kill. I know I'm gonna win in the end, but I want to take my time. Relish the process. Give it an hour, and he'll know that all too well."
I think I like this new you.
"Keep it your pants, babe. I'm gonna hit up a bar and keep an eye on our bank account. He's gonna need to withdraw money sooner or later."
---
As Dave looked up into the mirror, he saw Lara leveling an arm outwards and pause. He stared in confusion. His wife hadn't so much as touched a gun before today, and she was carrying a glorified pistol. How did she think she was gonna--
A little pink beam of light ricocheted off the mirror and struck him between the eyes. A little tingle ran down his body, settled in his balls, and vanished. Dave's eyes locked back on the road, his body frozen in fear. Oh god, what did she do? Was his dick gonna grow until it smashed through the windshield? Was he gonna shrink down until he was too small to lift a paperclip, much less fire the gun? He glanced into a side-mirror as he pulled onto the freeway. Could he drive in whatever his new condition was? What if he lost control of the car and died in a wreck, and would that be better or worse than getting caught by his wife?
Mercifully, for a little while Dave couldn't tell any difference in his body or mind. He still could drive fine, he seemed to have his faculties, and he hadn't dropped below 80 miles per hour for the past hour or so. Aside from the rock-hard erection and the weird swelling feeling in his balls, he was doing pretty alright.
Dave lost focus, his eyes slipping into the vacant stare. Oh wait. That little qualification was probably a problem. Dave chewed his tongue. Come to think of it, he was feeling really horny. His breath quickened and deepened as he tried to maintain his concentration. Somewhere within him, some heinous demon that he hadn't battled since high school roared out of its slumber.
Oh hey, it said, its voice dripping with a familiar smugness, Looks like she actually made the shot. What a boss, I didn't think she had it in her.
"Get thee behind me, Libby," muttered Dave as he scanned the signage ahead, begging the Nevada desert to give him something.
Oh come on, whined Libby, I spent the last two billion years locked in a collective unconsciousness. Yeah, the collective unconsciousness of some primitive prokaryotes. Think about it. Then I spent a few months locked in a computer, and now that I'm free you're giving me the cold shoulder?
Dave set his jaw. Truck stop, ten miles out. He hoped he could make it that long. An image of him pulling off to the side of the road and waiting for Lara to catch up drifted through his head. A sizable portion of him didn't object to the thought.
"What do you want?"
Just some quality time. If I'm gonna referee this little game I may as well see how my the players are doing.
"I'm. Fine."
She really does love you, you know.
"What."
Your wife loves you. She's not gonna hurt you, Dave. You doused her with enough magic cum to turn a nun into some kind of monster, but even then she wouldn't let me at you.
"Yeah, about that. I'm not really happy with the whole 'you-tried-to-fuck-me-while-I-was-unconscious' thing."
Yeah, that's why I'm hoping that with that new little upgrade, you can get her to the point where she's on board with some tandem riding.
"So that first curse is still working?"
Yup, laughed Libby. For a guy who's under this amount of pressure, you're actually on the ball! Oops, sorry, poor choice of words.
Rest stop five minutes out, thought Dave. His testis were starting to graze the denim of his pants. What would happen if they got much bigger didn't merit consideration. He floored it.
"I had to sit through a SAT proctored by Ms. Daniels," he muttered as he saw the exit ramp in the distance. "Dealing with a magic spell for an hour and a half is bush league."
Oooh, the plot thickens! I'll have to ask Lara for some old photos of Ms. Daniels. Dave ignored her as he tore into the empty truck stop parking lot. He screeched into a space, put the car in park, turned off the ignition, and got out, an arm cradling his heavy, swollen junk as he did. He waddled into the mens' room, walked into the first stall, desperately trying to ignore the smell and obvious glory hole. He closed the door behind him and dropped trou to inspect the damage.
In some ways, it could have been worse. Yes, he had a set of family jewels worthy of a king. Yes, his scrotum had swollen to the size where he had to actually use an arm to hold it up, and yes, it felt like he was carrying two lead cannonballs between his legs. But, as he found out within a few strokes, pressure was on his side. He stared in exhausted contemplation at the firehose of cum spraying out of him, coating the wall. He didn't care anymore. Hell, this probably wasn't the first time that this happened in this stall. On the plus side, his genitals had shrunk back down to their original size. He zipped up and left the stop.
Dave hopped into the car, started the engine, and glanced at the clock. Five minutes had passed. Against his better judgment, he chuckled. Lara was still 15 minutes out, and even if she had caught up with him, with that kind of speed she'd be in for a disappointment. He peeled out of the lot and headed towards the horizon.
So. How're you doing, champ?
"Better, no thanks to you."
Hey, no need to be snippy with me! I'm not here to undermine you. Hell, I won't even tell Lara where you are! Not that she needs the help, I mean.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Oh, never mind. You might want to have a plan, though.
"I figured that much out, thanks."
So what's it gonna be? You have the following choices: 1. Get cash at the next ATM, get a prepaid card, hide out in Vegas, get to scheming 2. Hit up a motel, blow off some steam, get some gas, drive as far as possible. 3. Find another road, loop back, wait at the first motel, get back to the cabin4. Wait, is that cop car trying to pull me over?  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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