Message-ID: <48723asstr$1091779805@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
;; send ERROR(192.168.3.254): Operation not permitted
;; send ERROR(192.168.3.254): Operation not permitted
;; send ERROR(192.168.3.254): Operation not permitted
;; send ERROR(192.168.3.254): Operation not permitted
;; send ERROR(192.168.3.254): Operation not permitted
;; send ERROR(192.168.3.254): Operation not permitted
;; send ERROR(192.168.3.254): Operation not permitted
;; send ERROR(192.168.3.254): Operation not permitted
;; send ERROR(192.168.3.254): Operation not permitted
;; send ERROR(192.168.3.254): Operation not permitted
;; send ERROR(192.168.3.254): Operation not permitted
X-Mail-Format-Warning: No previous line for continuation: Wed Aug 14 16:30:23 2002Return-Path: <lzalezac@yahoo.com>
X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com
Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com
X-Original-Message-ID: <20040806051253.87301.qmail@web60404.mail.yahoo.com>
From: Lazlo Zalezac <lzalezac@yahoo.com>
X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Thu, 5 Aug 2004 22:12:53 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: {ASSM} JC:Oscar Meyers I-01 (mf mm)
Lines: 732
Date: Fri, 6 Aug 2004 04:10:05 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2004/48723>
X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Moderator-ID: IceAltar, dennyw
=====
Lazlo Zalezac
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Lazlo_Zalezac
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Lazlo_Zalezac
__________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around
http://mail.yahoo.com
<1st attachment, "Desert 01.txt" begin>
Oscar Meyers
Part 1: Foo Fighter
By
Lazlo Zalezac
Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezac, 2004
Chapter 1
A common fallacy is that anyone can be anything they desire; that
if they work hard enough they can achieve their dream. This is
patently false. The man locked in a wheel chair will never be an
Olympic long jump gold medallist. Not everyone has the mental
capacity to be a rocket scientist. Some people are so ugly that no
matter how much plastic surgery they have they will never be Miss
America.
People are held back by natural limitations of all kinds. Some
limitations are physical while others are mental. Some people are
not emotionally stable enough to bear the stress that some activities
require. It is important that people recognize those limitations and
not waste their time trying to do something of which they are
incapable.
Natural limitations are not as severe as one may believe. The
limitations that one puts on oneself are far more destructive and
limiting. These are artificial barriers and their existence makes
people chose to not pursue those things in which they may actually
excel. The loss is theirs and the world at large suffers.
Occasionally, something happens that is so amazing, frightening,
and strange that it changes the lives of those involved. The result is
a sudden elimination of many of the self-imposed limitations. The
people appear to change direction in their life, becoming new
people energized and capable of anything. An example is the near
death experience that changes a shy person into a charismatic
preacher.
When artificial barriers are destroyed, it is as though a whole new
world opens for the person. Simple things that were once
impossible now become easy. They possess great energy. That
energy is contagious and affects all that come within their sphere
of influence. Overnight, they become leaders in their chosen field
of endeavor.
When a natural limitation is removed by a supernatural means, the
result is miraculous. Impossible things become possible and the
effects can rock the entire world. They are driven by a force that is
impossible to conquer.
***********
Every branch of the military has one. There is the one soldier that
never breaks the rules but is never successful in carrying out his
orders. He's the one that repeats boot camp and ends up performing
worse the second time. He's the one that drops the live grenade in
the throwing area during training. He's the one that drops his rifle
during the close order drill demonstration during the graduation
parade at the conclusion of boot camp. He's the one that spills his
food tray on the base commander the first day he arrives at his
post. This is the guy that, after completing his full tour, is still a
single stripe and actually wishes to reenlist. His desire to please
and the energy that he puts into each task only exasperate the
problem.
The one in the army was the one and only son of Mr. and Mrs.
Jacob Meyers. Jacob Meyers, in a slightly inebriated state on the
day his son was born, had given the poor lad the name, Oscar.
That's right, the great army screw-up was named Oscar Meyers.
Almost everyone that met poor Oscar was initially tempted to call
him hot dog. Usually after ten minutes of experiencing the clumsy
young man, they would give him the nickname Bologna. Girls
liked him, but none had ever considered dating him. He was
viewed as mostly harmless by women.
His early life had been filled with bullies that took advantage of his
small stature and clumsiness. He had been the butt of jokes for as
long as he could remember. While he was physically clumsy,
Oscar was not stupid and had made very good grades through
school. That also had been a factor in being treated poorly.
Unfortunately, he was too clumsy to even be considered a nerd.
Oddly, he understood the attitudes of other people towards him.
Oscar had harmed more than one individual through his
clumsiness. He had lost jobs because of accidents that were his
fault. It wasn't fun being around an accident-prone person; it was
downright dangerous. He felt guilty about the number of people
that he had harmed although it wasn't intentional.
Joining the army had been more difficult than he had expected. He
assumed that the army accepted anyone. He just barely met the
physical requirements in terms of height. The recruiter had even
tried to talk him out of joining after Oscar had tripped over the
brochure stand causing it to crash over, landing full force on the
recruiter's foot. Oscar had been desperate and forced the issue.
Unemployed and effectively unemployable, he had no real future
except the military.
Oscar had joined the army for several reasons. There was the hope
that the discipline imposed on him would translate into more
control over his body and give him greater self-confidence. He
hoped that his fellow soldiers would treat him as an equal. Also, he
couldn't afford college and planned to use the benefits that the
army provided to pay his way through school.
Despite his expectations to the contrary, life in the military was
rather lonely for Oscar. His fellow soldiers did their best to stay
away from him. He had caused several of them to be injured in the
past; each time had been an accident, but that didn't relieve the
pain he had caused. His fellow soldiers didn't want to stand in front
of him when he carried a gun because they were afraid of being
shot in the back. They didn't want to stand next to him out of fear
that he would drop a live grenade. They didn't want to be behind
him, because God only knew what Oscar would do to screw things
up and get one of them killed. It was often joked, in the grim
manner of hardened soldiers, that in a battle he would be
responsible for the majority of purple hearts his unit would receive.
He had gone through several nicknames by now. It started with
hotdog. After his first accident, they started calling him Wiener.
After several more screw-ups, they changed it to Bologna. This
was followed by the nickname, Fuck Up, which was shortened to
F-U. Even F-U was too much so they shortened it to Foo. He did
his best not to answer to it, but the frequent use of the term
demanded him to reply; even his Sargent called him Foo.
It was a fine summer morning when Oscar found himself driving
an empty Hummer through the Afghani desert. Even though it was
morning, the temperature was rising towards triple digits. The
Hummer was empty because no one wanted to ride with him. His
rifle was in the back seat, placed there by his fellow soldiers,
where it could do no harm. He was several miles behind the
convoy and driving fast in the hope of catching up with it. He had
stopped a half an hour earlier to go to the bathroom and they had
continued on their way.
It was important to note that they had waited for him during his
first two stops, but he was single-handedly holding back the entire
convey. When he had pulled over the last time, they went on
without him. It wasn't that they did anything wrong. After the last
stop they had told him to return to the base on the assumption that
the route was safe, but he had decided that he could continue in the
hope of catching up with them. If something happened to him, they
would probably get in trouble. If they stayed with him, they would
definitely arrive at their destination late and be in trouble.
Before he could catch up to them, his stomach cramped again. He
pulled off the road and parked by some rocks. Grabbing the roll of
toilet paper from the seat next to him, he raced into the rocks while
undoing his belt. He only tripped once causing him to drop the roll
of toilet paper. Miraculously it was the only incident that marred
his dash to his temporary toilet. Dropping his pants, he sighed as
his bowels emptied themselves for the fourth time that morning.
As he squatted, he looked over the desert appreciating the harsh
beauty of it. To his surprise, a convoy of white trucks headed
towards the road that his convey had taken. He watched as they
met up with the road and turned down it to follow the route taken
by his fellow soldiers. He was about to wipe himself, when his
bowels boiled again. He put the convoy out of his mind while his
ass burned from going one time too many.
The sad thing about this situation was that he had done it to
himself. He had drunk the laxative thinking it was Malox and
would calm his upset stomach. Even worse, he had dosed himself
twice trying to alleviate his stomachache. The discovery of its true
nature occurred much too late to do anything about it. While he
groaned, the laxative took effect again. He wiped the dirt off the
roll of toilet paper; bemoaning his fate as a klutz. After ten
minutes, his intestines calmed down. He wiped himself off and
pulled up his pants.
He went back to the Hummer and put the roll of toilet paper on the
front seat. Returning to his makeshift toilet with a shovel, he
covered it with a light layer of dirt. He looked up at the sky, where
he believed the Gods and Goddesses resided, as he said, "Sorry
about that, at least the toilet paper is biodegradable."
He returned to the Hummer, only dropping the shovel twice on his
way there, and put away the shovel. Pulling back from the rocks,
he returned to the road. He floored it in the hope of catching up to
his convoy. The dark cloud of dust on the horizon placed the
convey well ahead of him. Of course, he thought it was odd that
the cloud of dust was almost black in color. The soil in this region
was a dirty reddish-gray.
The nature of the terrain changed from flat to hilly. Ahead the
terrain would become mountainous and that was where his unit
was being deployed. The unit would be spending the next few
months searching for terrorists hidden in the mountains along the
border between Afghanistan and Pakistan. This was an assignment
that he did not want. He was not afraid of the terrorists, but of
hurting his fellow soldiers. Oscar was sure that his clumsiness
would create a disaster.
Twenty minutes later, he came around a bend in the road. Half of
the convoy of white trucks he had observed earlier was headed in
his direction. He knew things were bad when bullet holes appeared
in his windshield. He turned the Hummer in a huge circle and
headed back the way he had come. An RPG flew past him and
exploded harmlessly beside the road. His stomach clenched, only
this time it was out of fear.
He drove like a maniac trying to get away from them. Half of the
time, he was looking over his shoulder trying to watch what was
occurring behind him. Each time he looked over his shoulder the
Hummer swerved all over the area. It was only on the road half the
time, but that was actually to his benefit since it gave his driving an
unpredictability that prevented the terrorists from targeting him.
His efforts to outrun the white trucks were not successful. They
slowly gained on him while the rear of the Hummer rang as bullets
struck it. Unable to return fire while driving; he knew he needed to
stop and defend himself.
Finally, he spotted a pile of rocks and decided that he could take
cover among them. He drove the car up to the rocks and parked the
Hummer. In his haste, he stopped far too short of the rocks. He
reached into the back seat for his gun, firing a round through the
door as he did so. Unfazed, he leapt out of the vehicle and took off
towards the rocks. Without tripping, he made it to the rocks and
threw himself behind one of them. The dampness seeping into
pants where his knee touched the ground made him realize where
he was. He had just knelt in the middle of his former toilet. In an
irony that he didn't notice at the time, he swore, "Shit!"
He readied his gun as the six white trucks stopped. Two of them
had machine guns mounted on the roof of the cab. He started
firing, miraculously hitting a couple of the people in the trucks. He
ducked as they returned fire. He rose and fired a few more rounds
in the general direction of the trucks. The sounds from the next
volley of shots in his direction informed him that he was being
surrounded.
Oscar knew he was about to be trapped in his current position. His
stomach clenched in fear as he looked around for a way to escape.
The only way out required him to pass through a huge dust devil
moving towards his position from the rear. Things were pretty
hopeless and there was no one to rescue him. He had no idea what
had happened to his convey, but he was sure that it wasn't good.
By now, Oscar was more scared than he had ever been. This was
the kind of fear in which the whole body reacts; belly churns,
asshole clenches, the skin sweats, and limbs tremble. All he
wanted to do was to get out of there. He rose and, in panic, fired
the rest of his clip in the direction where he thought the enemy was
hiding. When he knelt down, he realized that he was out of
ammunition and almost surrounded. The Hummer was too far
away for him to return to it for ammunition without getting killed.
His situation was hopeless and he knew it. He was basically
unarmed except for his knife while they were fully armed and
more than happy to kill him. There was no doubt in his mind that it
would likely be a long slow painful death. Everyone stationed in
the area had heard stories of people being tortured to death. He
remembered the stories about the news reporter that had been
skinned alive. His hands trembled from the fear.
He turned to examine his only avenue of escape and looked at the
dust devil as it moved closer to him. He would never be able to
explain why he did what he did next. It may have been his fear that
drove him to it or it might have been his curiosity about what
would happen to him. He did know that he had nothing left to
loose and that there was a chance that he would be shot to death
rather than captured. He stood up and ran as fast as he could into
the dust devil.
The dust devil was huge, about fifty feet across at the base. The
wind wasn't that strong, but it was loaded with dirt and debris. He
was nearly blinded by the dust when he stepped into it, but that
didn't stop him from continuing into the eye. When he reached the
calm center, there was a naked man standing there with his arms
crossed. Oscar froze and stared at the man. This was the last thing
that he had expected to see. Remembering a myth that Djinni lived
in dust devils, he asked, "Do I get three wishes or something?"
The naked man looked at the pitiful figure in front of him. The
knees of his pants were stained brown from kneeling in shit. He
was sure that if the man had not been to the bathroom so many
times before that his pants would have been filled with it. The
naked man laughed before he answered, "Sure, why not? What do
you wish for?"
Oscar stood there for a minute and then thinking aloud said, "I
wish I was wise and intelligent enough to make good use of these
wishes."
"Okay," acknowledged the naked man as he raised his arms and
nodded his head in a fashion that Oscar expected of a Djinni. He
asked, "Your second wish?"
Oscar thought about where he had been and declared, "I wish I had
the strength, grace, and fortitude to do what needs to be done."
"Interesting. Granted." The naked man looked at Oscar for a
minute before he asked, "What is your third wish?"
Oscar shrugged his shoulders as he tried to think of a good third
wish. In a flash of insight, he said, "I wish to use these gifts to
serve the Gods and Goddesses to the best of my ability."
The man nodded his head and Oscar suddenly found himself in a
meadow facing the naked man. The meadow was eerie; the colors
were too bright, the sounds too loud, and scents that would
normally be unnoticed stood out demanding attention. The naked
man was taller and sporting an extremely large erection. Oscar
stared at it for a minute, incredulous that a male body could
support anything that huge. For a moment, he was glad that he
hadn't asked for the biggest dick on the planet.
Oscar came to a realization as he stared at the man. In an awed
voice, he said, "You're not a Djinni, you're the God."
The naked man smiled as he looked upon Oscar and replied, "Yes,
I am."
Before Oscar had a chance to react, the man reached out and
grabbed him. The clothes fell off Oscar as if they were leaves on
an oak in autumn. Strong hands on his shoulders forced him to his
knees. His scream of surprise was cut off as the huge cock was
shoved into his mouth. His eyes opened wide at the situation in
which he found himself.
Despite his first impulse to fight the invasion of his mouth, Oscar
chose to accept it. After all, this was a God and they lived by their
own rules. A mortal man could not hope to fight off a God.
The situation was complicated by the fact that Oscar was a virgin.
He had never been with a woman in any kind of sexual situation;
he had never even held hands. He had no real idea what a blowjob
was supposed to be like. Oscar tried to remember what he had read
about getting a blowjob, but the stories read while masturbating
did not cover the details about how to give a blowjob. Even if they
had, he wouldn't have paid them any attention since he expected to
be on the receiving end rather than giving one. He put his hands up
and started to stroke the base of the monster cock. The effort
seemed to spur the man on to more vigorous thrusting.
Oscar's cock became erect and started leaking pre-cum almost
immediately. It pooled on the ground around his knees. His sexual
excitement in these circumstances surprised him making him
question if secretly he was gay, but years of jacking off to pictures
of naked women argued to the contrary. As his erection continued
to demand attention, he took one of his hands off the God's cock
and placed it on his own.
Oscar tried to lick the cock in his mouth while his hand stroked the
base of the cock. The cock was so large that his efforts were
ineffective and it was so far into his mouth that he was licking
insensitive shaft. After what seemed like an hour, the naked man
came. He shoved his cock deep into the Oscar's throat and emptied
himself. Oscar forced himself not to vomit as his stomach was
filled with come.
Oscar came at the same time with an orgasm that was far more
intense than any of his previous experiences during masturbation.
It was more intense than any of his masturbation fantasies had
conceived. His hand and cock were quickly covered with a thick
coat of come. The amount of ejaculate was impossible. He knew a
man only ejaculated a teaspoon of come, but this felt like a gallon.
Even while Oscar was recovering from his orgasm, the man
pushed him onto his back and grabbed his ankles. He parted
Oscar's legs and pulled his ass off the ground exposing Oscar's
asshole to easy access. With a single thrust, he shoved his cock
into Oscar's ass. At least the cock had been coated with saliva so it
wasn't exactly dry. Oscar couldn't help thinking that at least the
laxative had emptied his bowels.
Oscar groaned at the painful sensation as the invading cock
stretched his asshole beyond what nature had intended. The cock
was huge and his ass was too small. He did his best to relax and
not fight the intrusion. He felt stretched as tears in his rectum
produced considerable pain. His cock was hard, so he began to
stroke it. His previous orgasm had coated it with his come so his
hand slid easily along its length; like when he used hand cream
when masturbating.
The cock continued to thrust into and out of his ass. As Oscar
absorbed the punishment to his ass, he realized that his first sexual
contact was with a God. How many people could make the same
claim? The thought made him come, but his ejaculation wasn't
nearly as copious as his first.
The God continued to ravage Oscar's ass. By now, the reaming was
becoming too painful to bear. Oscar tensed the muscles in his ass
in the hope that it would cause the god to come quicker. His anus
was so stretched that the effort was pitiful. After an hour or more,
the naked man came. He slowly pulled out much to Oscar's relief
and released his hold on Oscar. Oscar's legs and ass hit the ground
in an undignified manner as he lay there catching his breath.
Oscar stood on legs that shook. It wasn't clear if it was from the
orgasm or from the conflicting emotions that roared through him.
He didn't want to go through that again, but he wanted to know if
this was just the first round. He took a breath and then asked, "Is
there more?"
"No more sex, the magic is complete." The naked man pointed to a
small camp that was in a desert area below the meadow as he
ordered, "Inside the terrorist camp is a medallion. Get it for me."
Oscar looked at the desert area that started ten feet from thick
green woodland. He tried to make sense of the proximity between
desert and woodland. He decided this was a mystery and that it
was not intended for him to understand. After a glance at the God,
he headed towards the edge of the woods. He would use the cover
of the trees to observe the terrorists. He looked up and saw that the
sun was directly overhead. It would be a long time before it got
dark.
As he moved, crouching to avoid being observed, he wondered
how he was to deal with the terrorists. He was naked and had no
weapons. As he neared the edge of the woods, he noticed a large
trash dump a good distance away from the camp. Apparently, the
terrorists had been here for a long time and had generated a
significant amount of refuse.
He reached the edge of the woods and knelt down beside a tree.
From there, he planned his course of action. He would go to the
dump to see what he could find. There was a small ravine on the
other side of camp. He would make a large circle around the camp
to the ravine. He would enter the ravine and edge closer to camp.
Once there, he would have to decide how to approach the camp
more directly.
He left the protective covering of the woods making his way by
crawling on the ground to keep from being seen. The rocks and
scrub brush irritated his cock, the thorns cutting it. It took him
close to an hour to reach the dump. Once there, he dug through the
rotten food and various pieces of trash in the dump. Amongst the
trash, were several empty rice sacks made of a burlap-like material.
According to the writing on the sacks, the rice had originated from
a UN food program. He grabbed them thinking that he could make
some clothes out of them. He stopped for a moment and wondered
how the terrorists had received the food.
He continued to dig through the trash pile finding a stick about
three feet long and two inches in diameter. One end was forked
and the other looked like it had broken. The stick looked like it
could have been used as a crutch at one time. He picked it up
thinking that he could use it as a weapon. He also located a tin can
with the lid attached. He removed the lid recognizing that it could
be used to cut things. He folded the lid in half so that he would
have a smooth side to hold. He kept the can, there was no guessing
how it could be used. He dug further and found a very large pair of
boots that were worn down to nothing with the soles separating
from the upper parts. The boots were useless, but the frayed
shoelaces could be used. He removed the laces and added them to
the pile of junk he was taking with him. He continued to search,
but found nothing else useful.
It was a paltry set of stuff that he had taken out of the trash pile. He
took a minute to fill one of the rice bags with all of the items he
had collected knowing that it would be much easier to carry
everything that way. He used shoelaces to tie the bag closed and to
tie it to his ankle. That would allow him to crawl and use his hands
if necessary.
He made a large detour around the camp to reach the ravine. He
crawled the entire time in order to keep as low of a profile as
possible, stopping when he spotted someone moving around the
edge of the camp. It took him more than an hour to reach the
shallow ravine that ran along the far end of the camp. He untied the
rice bag and lowered himself into the ravine, relaxing once his feet
touched the ground. He pulled his sack of goods after him.
He froze when he felt something rub against his foot. Looking
down, he was shocked to find several snakes on the ground around
him. As he looked around, he saw that there were more snakes
further along the ravine. He examined them carefully before
recognizing them as Cobras. He froze, trying to blend into the
environment hoping that the snakes would not react to his presence
among them.
An idea slowly formed in his mind. He unpacked his rice sack,
removing the walking stick and the other sacks. He used the stick
to pin down the head of one of the snakes. He picked up the snake
and put it into one of the rice sacks. He repeated the process,
putting two or three snakes into each sack. When the floor of the
ravine was clear of snakes, he was left with six sacks filled with
snakes clutched in his left hand.
He moved along the ravine towards the camp. It was slow going
since he feared walking into another nest of snakes or being
noticed by the terrorists. He finally made it to the point closest to
the camp. He looked up at the sun and realized that it was still
straight overhead. Apparently, he was not going to be able to count
on it getting dark here.
He went to the edge of the ravine and examined the camp very
carefully. Several men, extremely hard and callous looking,
walked around the perimeter of the camp carrying automatic rifles.
He watched their actions seeking some sort of pattern that he could
use to his advantage. After a while, one of the terrorists pointed to
the sky, an action that was followed by all of the men moving
quickly to the tents. He remembered a movie where terrorists
would get under cover when spy satellites were scheduled to cross
overhead and wondered if that was what they were doing.
Oscar nervously licked his lips and began to climb out of the
ravine making sure that he held the bags closed. Once out of the
ravine, he ran towards the camp. The movement excited the snakes
in the bags, making them extremely dangerous. As he ran past a
tent, he threw a bag of snakes into it. Snakes, hoods puffed and
heads raised to strike, literally flew out of the bag when it hit the
ground. They struck at everything that moved, eliciting screams
from those who were bit.
When he had completed his run through the camp, he noticed a
pole in the center with a medallion hanging on it. He turned to pass
by the pole and grabbed the medallion as he ran past it. It was
awkward running with a sack in one hand and the medallion in the
other. He wondered what to do with the last bag of snakes and
decided to get rid of it. He threw the bag over his shoulder as he
ran away.
The whole camp was in turmoil as men shot at the snakes in their
tents or ran out of it. The presence of a naked man running through
the camp distracted some of them sufficiently that they were slow
to fire in his direction. He ran in a serpentine fashion hoping to
avoid being shot. Those that followed him found themselves facing
very angry snakes released from the last bag that he had thrown.
There was no pursuit as a more real threat was closer at hand.
When he reached the edge of the meadow, he threw himself down
on the ground breathing heavily clutching his side from a stitch in
his side created by running. He glanced at the medallion held in his
closed fist. He opened his hand to examine it. Before he had a
chance to even look at it, it was lifted out of his hand by the naked
man. Oscar looked up at him and said, "I got it for you."
The God placed the medallion around Oscar's neck as he said,
"You have done well, Oscar Meyers. It is time for you to rest."
Oscar woke a short distance from an isolated hut in the desert.
Looking down at himself, he was surprised to be alive, but even
better was that he felt healthy. His stomach and intestines were
calm since the laxatives appeared to have worn off. His clothes
were clean and looked like new. His eyesight was sharper and his
hearing better than ever. He sat up slowly taking in his
surroundings.
A local man squatted next to him and watched him with an intense
look. Oscar looked over at the man and noticed a chain around his
neck. Feeling the heavy weight of the medallion around his neck,
he reached in and pulled it out to show to the man. The man stared
at it in disbelief. He frowned and looked down at Oscar as he said,
"I am Omar."
It took Oscar a moment to realize that the man was speaking to
him in Arabic. He was surprised to learn that understood the
language now. In perfect Arabic, he answered, "I am Oscar."
Omar gestured for him to rise as he said, "Come with me. I have
something for you."
Oscar stood up and followed Omar to a hut that he entered behind
his host. The Arab sat down on a cushion and gestured for Oscar to
do the same. Following the example of his host, Oscar sat down
and took a minute to look around the inside of the hut. It was plain
room with a small stove and a bed. The dirt floor was covered with
carpets and cushions. A small table supported a hookah.
Omar reached over to a small pot and poured a very small cup of
coffee, which he handed to Oscar before pouring one for himself.
They raised the cups in a salute and then each man took a sip. The
coffee was very strong and very sweet, forcing Oscar to take his
time drinking it. He found that he really enjoyed the exotic flavor
and decided this was not going to be the last time that he would
drink that beverage. The bottom half of the cup was filled with
finely ground coffee, a fact that he discovered when he drank more
than intended; receiving a mouthful of grounds for his effort.
The men set the cups down at the same time. With the social
business completed, Omar nodded and then stood up to go over to
a small trunk on the floor. It was with very deliberate movements
that he opened it. From within the trunk, he pulled out something
before closing the lid. He turned to Oscar and held out a gray
bundle. He said, "This is for you."
Oscar accepted the bundle and opened it, discovering that it was a
hooded cloak. He put it on and realized that it would blend
perfectly into the desert outside. Wearing this cloak would make
him virtually invisible in the desert. He said, "Thank you very
much. This is amazing."
Omar shrugged and then replied, "Thank you for the praise. It is
my service to the God."
Oscar adjusted the cloak, appreciating the fit and feel of the cloth.
It was perfect for his small stature. He noticed that there were
pockets at the bottom of the cloak and then realized that if he put
his feet in the pockets when lying on the ground, that he could
make sure that his entire body was covered. There were small
loops inside the cloak. He could use them for the same purpose
with his hands. He looked at Omar and said, "You have done great
work in your service to the God."
Omar nodded his appreciation for the complement and then
replied, "You must go now before we are caught. Servants of the
Gods and Goddesses are not appreciated in this region of the
world. Do not let others see your medallion; they will kill you on
sight."
Oscar walked to the door and turned around. Taking a moment to
look at the other man, he said, "Thank you for the cloak and your
words of warning. I shall not put you at any further risk.
Goodbye."
The Arab rose and bowed slightly as he called out to Oscar. "May
the Gods and Goddesses keep you safe, Oscar. I wish I could do
more for you."
Oscar left the hut and walked off into the desert. It was the middle
of summer and the air was hot and getting hotter. In light of that,
he would only be able to walk in the morning and late afternoon.
Long term survival would require him to rest during the middle of
the day, but for now he needed to find cover and that wasn't here.
He paused and looked around with no real idea where he was.
He thought back to his escape earlier. He had been heading west to
catch up with the convoy and then turned back to head east to
avoid the white trucks. The rocks that he had hidden in were south
of the road and then he had run south into the dust devil. If he
wanted to meet up with his unit, he would have to head towards the
northeast. He headed in a generally northern direction towards an
outcropping of rocks on the horizon.
He was alone in the desert without food, water, or weapon. Despite
this, he felt for the first time in his life that he was capable of
handling the situation. In the past, he would have been unable to
act. Once he thought about it, he realized that he hadn't tripped
once since waking up outside the hut. His visit with Omar had not
been interrupted by any kind of accident.
Walking slowly to conserve his energy, he covered a surprising
distance. After an hour of walking, he noticed a small trail that lead
to an outcropping of rocks in the far distance. The trail had been
made by generations of people walking along it and years of trucks
following it. He turned to follow the trail, walking with a constant
pace, but taking frequent breaks since hurrying here would be a
disaster.
When he reached the outcropping of rocks, he took a quick look
around to see if he recognized the place. It was with a little relief
and much disappointment that he discovered he had never been
here before. He had hoped it was the site where he had fought the
terrorists. He was relieved that it wasn't because of the bad
memories associated with the place. He was disappointed because
it meant that he was still lost.
He explored the area around the base of the outcropping. In one
little ravine, he was surprised to find a small pile of rocks in a
circle with a larger rock laid across it. Curious, he removed the
larger rock and found a hole in the ground. There was a rope that
was fixed to one of the rocks with the other end in the hole. He
pulled the rope up and was relieved to find that there was a small
bucket on the end filled with water. He had heard about wells like
this being located across the desert. After taking a sip of the
refreshing water, he turned to watch the horizon making sure that
there was nothing threatening coming his way.
He took a moment to inventory his possessions. In addition to the
cloak, he had his knife, wallet, belt, watch, and clothes. It wasn't
much and he knew that his next few days would be a time of
marginal survival and that it was time for him to adopt a survival
attitude. Now that he had found water, it was necessary for him to
devise a way to take it with him. He cut off the bottoms of his
pants and fashioned a container to hold water from the pant legs. It
wasn't perfect, but it was better than trying to brave the desert
without water. He filled his handmade canteens and then covered
the well again.
He looked inside his wallet and found a condom. He laughed as he
thought back to his experience earlier as he wondered what would
have happened if he had tried to force the God to use a condom. Of
course, it would have broken while being stretched over that
monster cock. Not having an immediate use for it, he put it back in
his wallet. His money and credit cards could actually come in
handy if and when he reached a town.
Leaning against the rocks, Oscar pulled out the medallion and
examined it. He tried to remove it, but it slipped out of his hands.
He tried several more times and then decided that he would just
have to examine it while wearing it. There was a phallic symbol on
both sides of it. On one side were the words, "Protect the weak
from the strong." On the other side were the words, "Stop evil from
destroying the good." Oscar smiled to himself and called out to the
sky, "Those are orders I will gladly obey."
He considered his near-term situation. It was rapidly beginning to
approach dark and he needed cover. Lost and alone in enemy
territory, he would have to be careful. There weren't many choices,
so he chose to spend the night deeper in the rocks where he would
be less visible to any that might come to the well. Standing, he
headed into the rocks, taking his time and watching his step.
Spotting a snake before it had a chance to strike him, he picked up
a rock and killed it. He was left with about a quarter pound of meat
after cutting off the head, removing the skin, and cleaning out the
internal organs.
He found an area that he felt safe and sat down while pulling the
hood of the cloak over his head. Nibbling on the raw snake, he sat
there watching the horizon. At least he had food and water, even if
the food was raw and tasted like chicken. The lack of shelter was
not a critical problem that had to be solved immediately. He leaned
against the rocks and waited for the sun to set, thinking that it had
been a long day.
<1st attachment end>
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
Notice: This post has been modified from its original
format. The post was sent as an email attachment and
has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software.
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+