Joyride
A mechanic gets stolen this time around.
Short story I've been kicking around. I just want to post something and get it out of the way. Maybe it will inspire me to finish the... six other drafts I have queued. Ugh. Well anyway, enjoy the smut and let me know what you think!
P.S. Sorry I have such a furious penchant for commas. I hope it doesn't kill your boner (or lady boner).
It was twilight on a lonely stretch of country road, somewhere in the deserts of Nevada. The oasis of Las Vegas began to glow on the horizon as the sun set in the opposite direction. The red, streaking glare of a pair of taillights shot down the road, as a '69 Pontiac GTO kicked dust and tumbleweeds up in its wake.
In the driver's seat sat a lion, mid-thirties, muscular but not overly so. His mane back in a ponytail under a wide Stetson, one paw on the wheel as the other brought a fragrant cigar to his muzzle. Steely eyes and a mischievous smirk graced the strikingly handsome fur's face as his foot paw held the accelerator firmly to the floor. There was something exceptional about him, aside from his chiseled form and reckless abandon...
He was no mortal.
The corporeal form of his being had seen many faces, this was just the latest one stolen from his most recent quarry. Unknown to science, inexplicable to mortals, some have called him a demon, a spirit, and even Jinn, although none were particularly accurate. He had no master or such simple definitions of good and evil, he simply 'was', and he liked to have fun as he roamed aimlessly across the world. Lately he took to calling himself "Marcus" this time around- the name once held by his body's original master. The real Marcus wasn't responsible for his possession, no Ouija boards or summoning circles, he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Some weeks ago, Marcus found himself at his garage late one night, working on the car. Nothing could have prepared him for the turn his life was about to make. As he leaned under the hood, his waist on a fender, he got a chill. The doors were locked and the other mechanics had since gone home, but suddenly Marc had the overwhelming sensation he wasn't alone. Rising from the car he looked around the shop. Nothing. He checked the doors, peered into the office, even turned the light on in the bathroom, but no one was there. Uncomfortably, Marcus returned to the car in attempts to finish his work. He took another look under the hood, but something was different... Oil. The engine was leaking oil from virtually every seam and hose onto the concrete below. At least, it LOOKED like oil... Marcus' eyes narrowed, just a moment ago the engine bay was pristine, and now in addition to his unsettling gut feeling, his car was bleeding thick gooey blobs of black fluid into an ever-increasing puddle. It wasn't just the motor, either... coolant hoses, vents, even the battery dripped an ever-increasing black mess. Gallons and gallons seeped at a steady pace. It began to appear that it was more fluid than the whole system could conceivably hold. He stepped back with a look of disgust, unsure of what to make of his car's paranormal behavior. Then, unbeknownst to the lion the puddle of black goo slowly began to run across the floor, creeping away from the car, towards the male.
He pulled out his phone, took a few pictures of the engine bay. He thought maybe he should tell someone... a friend? The police? And tell them what? It was late at night, and who would want to hear about an inexplicable oil spill in a spooky garage?
He put his phone away. Looking down, he noticed the sludge had made its way over to him and started pooling around his boots. The fur scowled at the mess on his shoes, and squatted down to examine it more closely. He dipped a claw in the substance and brought it to his face... it wasn't motor oil, it was... viscous, and musky.
Just then, the fluid began to creep faster from its source. The puddle began crawling up his boots and legs, as the drop on his digit began to expand and spread across his paw. Shaken, Marcus tried to run to the shop sink, but his foot paws disobeyed him, as tendrils of black oozed under his clothes and up his legs. His powerful leg muscles flexed firmly at their touch, seizing him in place. Some feet away the larger puddle near the car began to bubble and twitch as it grew larger. A form began to rise, first of a paw, then an arm, and finally a whole upper body could be seen "climbing" out of the slurry. Marcus watched in stunned silence as the form of an oily feline manifested before him, still unable to move most of his body as the ooze reached his torso. The other cat grinned wickedly as it stood from the pool and approached him. Soon they stood face to face, merely a foot apart, all the while the oil crept under his clothes and across the chest of the paralyzed lion. The stuff on his finger now spreading up to his bicep. The dripping creature came nose to nose with him. Marcus, unable to rationalize the situation, nervously tried to speak...
"W.. wha... Who... what are you?" came out in nothing more than a shaky whisper.
The creature smiled again and without a word embraced Marcus, its ooze seeping further onto his body. Now nose to nose, the creature's grinning visage locked eyes with him and finally spoke...
"I'm you." it said... in his voice.
Marcus' eyes widened in horror, and in less than a second, the creature kissed Marcus deeply. Its slick, snake like tongue quickly and continuously filling his mouth. Marcus couldn't move his body, only watch and feel as the warm liquid soaked his fur. Invasive and pulsing sensations arousing him against his will, the ooze slithering around and down his manhood, still more creeping into his tailhole. His cheeks began to swell as the creature pushed more and more of itself into his mouth, its tongue in seemingly inexhaustible supply. He began to cough and gag. His body's defenses of no use, black fluid shot from his nose with each convulsion. Soon the tears he shed as he gagged began to run black and viscous as the creature filled him. The slippery creature's dripping arms added to the liquid already climbing his body, and Marcus was soon covered up to his neck.
The creature stopped. Marcus' eyes were blurry with the ooze, he could barely make out the other cat. It pulled away, its tongue still deep inside him. It looked smugly at him for a moment, then its form regressed to an amorphous blob. In an instant, the black fluid forcefully shot itself into him, forcing itself into his mouth and holes.
As the last bit of goo slithered into the lion's orifices he stumbled back, his form wobbling slightly trying to maintain balance. A few drops of black ran from his nose and eyes, and some fell as drool, his stomach was distended, yet already beginning to deflate as the creature fused with him.
The lion then awkwardly staggered to the bathroom and leaned on the sink. The occasional cough and gag launching thick black splatter across the porcelain. Arms shaking, he lifted his face to the mirror. Haggard and mouth agape he panted, looking himself in the eyes.
His reflection smiled.
Back on the dusty highway "Marcus" was enjoying his joyride, in both the car and the lion's body. Each time he took someone it was a bit different, but followed the same basic pattern: Find a body, merge with it, use the person's memories and resources to effectively replace them. Then the fun would begin... Sometimes "Marcus" would use the creatures to yiff and breed, sometimes taking over two or more at once in a depraved orgy of his new body's friends and lovers. At some point he'd venture off to experience other earthly pleasures, drugs and alcohol, gambling, theft, whatever could elicit a rush of pleasure in his stolen flesh.
This would continue indefinitely until the body was destroyed, or he simply tired of it. Sometimes all that sin caught up to him and he got his body executed for toying with mortal law. Sometimes he'd steal someone else mid-yiff to see the expression on their face. One time he even put a gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. Just to see what it was like. It was a shame for the man he possessed.
The black ooze the creature consisted of didn't always manifest itself in the same way, either. As if playing some kind of joke, it saw fit to drip "oil" out of Marcus' beloved car this time. The initial possession was often half the fun, and the more creative the better. The "early" days of its primordial being countless eons ago may have seen such simple invasions of its hosts as hiding in food, or posing as a "tar pit" to ensnare hapless travelers, but as the centuries passed it enjoyed increasingly complicated and perverse schemes... Several years ago it materialized in the plumbing of a locker room. As a team of meaty college football players entered the showers together, it sprung from the fixtures and swiftly began puppeteering an orgy of them, as it allowed their intact consciousness' to helplessly witness their shared depravity. A decade earlier its essence bode its time stalking a young gay couple around their apartment until they were in the throws of passion, then it physically manifested itself inside the balls of one of the lovers. As he climaxed in his lover his package swelled and spasmed uncontrollably, pumping gallons of black goo into the other male. He could only watch helplessly as he filled his mate with the creature, until the possession was complete. Then menacingly grinning with his stolen mouth at the body's horrified mate, it'd let the real fun begin. Its stay in a body could last years, other times as little as a few hours, to the benefit or peril of its host. After the whole ordeal they might walk away with a bigger cock and statuesque musculature... other times they ended up dead. Surely most would argue it was better to have the creature purge itself from them out their cock in a powerful orgasm, rather than seeping out bullet holes or the like. For whatever reason though, this goo seemed to strongly prefer the males.
Most of the time though, the entity left of its own volition, simply tired of the same face. The same nerves, the same equipment. Even the most dramatic of changes to the same host could grow dull... even changing their age or species completely could get old if "he" hadn't had the experience of assimilation in a while. Eventually he'd jump ship, oozing out of them the same way he came in, leaving the un-aged body stranded far from home, and maybe even decades or centuries out of their time.
But he was just getting started inside this lion, there was much fun to be had.
Barreling past a billboard, blue lights began following him in the mirror. Looks like he was going to have some fun sooner rather than later.
Pulling the car to the side of the road, Marcus flicked his cigar out the window, and another paw drew the zipper down on his pants. With a smirk he lifted out the lion's sizable tool, twice the size it was before, after his improvements, of course.
A human male stepped out of the cruiser and began walking up to the Pontiac. Marcus watched him stride closer in the mirror, clutching the ever-swelling member and licking his maw.
He murmured under his breath, "Let's see if we can go for a third joyride today..."