The Way Out is Through...
By: Lostwolfe

[title:the way out is through]
[version:1.00/unbastardized]
[author:greywolfe]
[date:3 july 2000]
[email:greywolfe@new.co.za]
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[contents]:
[about this story]
[foreward]
[the way out is through]
[somewhat damaged]
[into the void]
[i'm looking forward to joining you, finally]
[afterward]
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[about this story]
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[some technical stuff...]

this story is to *remain* within the four walls of
alt.fan.vore.

for now, the denizens of that group and i are trying a
vague sort of experiment to see if we can draw a little
bit more of a crowd than we have at present. this will
[eventually] get released into the public domain [big-gulp/
the voretex and so on...] but until then, i'd appreciate
it very much if you *did not* repost this.
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[foreword]
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this is one of the weakest ones i've written in a long
time...not only has it got no depth, but i couldn't really
decide on an ending...there might be scope for something
more...if anyone has any ideas [and i'm fresh out. i'll
have to go to the seven-eleven to buy some tomorrow] please
pass them along to me...

greywolfe
8 july 2000
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[the way out is through]
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[verse one]:[somewhat damaged]
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my head ached and my fingers bled.
it wasn't going to be long before they found me again and
when they did...they'd continue to club me into submission.
like...the seals from so long ago.

they wanted no part of me. on almost every count i was
deformed. wrong from without and wrong from within. their
priest had stirred them up and now i was paying for their
fear of what was different. if only i'd kept my head and
my loins in he same place things might be different now,
but i'd *had* to go and crawl into the farmers bed. i
*had* to put my arms around his ample, furry belly...and i
had to be there when he woke up, shocked, to find me
staring straight into his eyes.
that was the sin from within.

my less heinous crime was that i couldn't see very well...
what some of the old guard might have called genetics and
what some of the new guard called god's punishment.

hoping there was no-one nearby to hear, i tore a piece of
my shirt off to build a torniquet for my hand, wincing as
the pain was covered with the new skin of cloth. i didn't
remember what it was that had made that mark, only that it
was big and blunt and that the man behind the piece of iron
had been enraged.

panting in the moonlight, i realized that i could see my
breath as it exited my body...not a good sign. it was
cold and i wasn't wearing much beyond a shirt and some
makeshift pants. no shoes. no provisions. i hadn't had
time when the beautiful farmer had shot straight up in bed
and glared at me, accusingly. i'd heard the priest
shouting after me...saying that i was a filthy, unclean pig
and that god would punish me if the people wouldn't.

tip for next time this situation comes up, widowed does not
equal homosexual...but he'd been giving me such glances...
oh well. no time to worry about that now.
i can hear them coming and from underneath the scrap metal
overhang of my hiding-place i can see the torches. there
hasn't been any electricity in this world for...more than
twenty years? so the majority of the light is firelight,
but still. they're coming and i'm starting to get cold,
now that the initial rush of adrenaline has left my body.
gods, i'm nineteen years old. i do *not* need to die out
here...so...which way now?

the asphalt of the ruined city would probably leave fewer
tracks, but there were *far* too many hollowed spaces back
there. if you got caught in a building, there was usually
only one other way out - and my knowledge of old texas
really isn't that good. i can't hide in the guts of this
ruined car for much longer. besides, metal attracts cold
like the plague.

the hollering is louder now.
ferreting through the pile of old scrap i find a heavy bar
and test it. as a weapon, it's just going to have to do.
they're not far off. time to go.
slipping through the half-open back door of the car, i
melt into the shadows of the nearest building. i *had* to
go and make this mistake on a night with a near-full moon.
christ, i am screwed.

running away from the jeering catcalls that are entirely
too close for comfort, i start randomly choosing my path,
being careful to keep my location in my head - i need to
double-back on myself about as much as i need to jump off
the empire state building. an intersection. turn left,
an alleyway, fine, i'll go down it. i can see a wall that
should be scaleable. a house that looks like it offers a
way right through it...

until i finally hit a cul-de-sac.
they must have dogs, or something, because they're still
there, calling to me. if i listen closely i can even make
out one or two of the insults. if they've got hounds,
there's almost no point in trying to hide and the city is
making it *considerably* easier to be a target. let the
hounds sniff a piece of clothing, discard all the other
smells and voila. clubbed human-seal. to them this must
seem like some sort of obscene hunt, which is probably the
only reason why the hounds aren't tearing me apart right
now. i am not a man. i am prey and therefore they're
toying with me, letting me think i can get away when they
know i have about as much hope of losing them as i have a
hope of hell freezing over.
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[verse two:into the void]
[7 july 2000]
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the voice that reaches across the cul-de-sac is deep and
very texan. *old* texan.
'br'er rabbit.'
i blink and swivel in the near-darkness.
'naw, here, boy.'
he's not where i expect his voice to have placed him.
in fact he's almost standing right in front of me.
or...in front of where i started off. i'd been looking
at him all the time.
he grinned at me as i found him in the moonlight.
'are you talking to me?' i ask, stupidly, knowing that
there's no-one else here.
he nods. 'yer runnin' from the foxes, ain't ya, br'er
rabbit?'
i blink and nod.
in the moonlight it's difficult to make out details, but
i get some idea of what he looks like and he's *much* older
than most of the other men and women i've seen around.
maybe fifty. maybe older.
he's also more expansive than anyone i've seen, a neat
white beard frames a smiling, almost gentle face, as if
he's laughing at everything he sees. it's difficult to
get a sense for what he really looks like - he's clothes
are hiding that, but i can tell he's tall. i know that if
he comes closer i'll be looking up at him.
he grins and beckons me over. i hesitate - most of my
instincts say to run, but...where to would be the question.
his deep basso voice rumbles over me as i stand close to
him, turning now to await the men that i know are coming.
'i think i know a place where you'll be safe.'
'from hounds?'
he nods.
'from hounds.'
'where?'
and with that, at a speed faster than i would have thought
possible he was behind me, large arms holding me tight, big
gut pressing into my back.
'yer gonna have to trust me, boy. can you trust me?'
i didn't see what choice i had, besides, i was too small
and weak to fight against his iron-like grip. i nodded.
my nod of assent started soemthing i could never have
imagined, quite suddenly he'd torn my clothes from my body
in rough, practised gestures. the cold bit into me on
every side except where his warm, large body was against
mine.
it was a windless night, my clothes dropped to the floor
and then he was pushing me down a little. one large hand
pressing my shoulders down so that his mouth was in line
with my head. there's a warm sensation as his mouth opens
wide, wider, as wide as it can and then engulfs most of
the top of my head. understanding dawns in that instant
and i struggle. he's right. where i'm going the hounds
won't find me. he's having none of me fighting, his large
arms hold me tight as his mouth works down over my eyes
and nose and lips. i can feel his moustache run over my
features and there's an acutely strange sensation of warmth
and cold as he slowly pulls me into him and i disappear
from the cul-de-sac. in a perverse way it's payback for
not having had the beautiful farmer...my penis stands at
attnetion and he finds a way to distract me.
a large, furry paw wraps itself around my penis and he
pumps back and forth as he carries on swallowing my body
into his. in his jeans i feel his own tented penis
pressing into my back and then my buttocks and then against
one of my legs as he ingests me. he is efficient. i can
sense that he'd want to take more time over this devouring,
but the men that are following me aren't giving him enough
time. as odd as i know it must look, while he's stroking
my fear away it feels...wonderful. despite his gruff
exterior and his iron-like control at the beginning of this
adventure he's being considerate and gentle. out in the
cold world, my penis bobs up against his moustache and
nose and he opens wide to encase it and my balls...
inside his mouth and now down his thraot it's *very* dark.
there's absolutely no light here, but i don't know how i
expected there would be. i can't hear the others following
me, but he must, because his big hands are pressing me ever
downard, faster and faster until he sucks my feet into his
mouth and closes his lips.
he grunts as i pass from his throat and on into his
stomach. i don't want to imagine how low it must be
hanging now, but i'm safe, i think.
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[verse three:i'm looking forward to joining you, finally]
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the young man squirming inside me feels...very good. i
know i can't keep him. i promised him that much, but for
now i relish the feel of his weight adding to my weight as
i watch the men approach. i've hidden him just in time and
i hope that my reputation preceeds me. if they see and if
they understand, they'll go away and leave the boy and i
alone...otherwise there's going to be more of a fight than
i want there to be.

i don't have to wait long before they come. there's six
of them...either it was a small villiage or the rest didn't
care to join in tonights hunt.
'howdy,' i greet them, as they walk up the cul-de-sac,
their dogs confused. i watch one of them take halting
steps towards me and then watch him sniff my hands and
my shins and my stomach. i grin and wonder if the dog
can smell my heat as well as the heat of the boy. i
suppose it must do, because it sits down on it's haunches,
leans back it's shaggy head and howls.
it's partner, the slightly less mentally agile of the
pair is sniffing amongst the clothes.
a burly farmer-type looks me over as i stroke my large
stomach and then he asks, haltingly...
'did...uh...a young man come by here at all...?'
i grin and pat my stomach.
'he won't be a problem to you anymore, my friend.'
i see surprise and shock on his face as he understands
what just occurred, why my stomach is so huge and why
the clothes that he must have undoubtedly *seen* on the
boy are strewn around the asphalt like the wrappings of
a gift.
i grin, bend painfully and retrieve the clothes.
'now...if you don't mind, i have a dinner guest to attend
to,' and with that i walk away and into one of the houses.
i hope they're too confused...or too *afraid* to follow.
as i sit down on the time-weathered sofa and stroke my
stomch, i listen for the voices. there's a rumble of
quarrel between them, but evidently the oldest - the
farmer - settles the dispute - that...someone who
swallows young men for dinner is certainly not someone to
mess with. he may have other magic...or something...and
so they take their leave. i grimace and thank the almighty
that i haven't fallen asleep waiting. it's pleasant to be
sitting here with the young man still squirming inside me.
relucantly opening my mouth wide, i cough and bring him
back...watching, sadly, as the mound of my stomach shrinks
back to it's regular size

i wait, as he kneels at my feet, coughing and spluttering,
getting his breath back...and then watching, tenderly as
he begins shivering in the cold.
'w-what happened?'
'i convinced them that you'd gone away.'
he nods and sneezes. he's a sweet young pup.

[8 july 2000]
'you wait there, boy, i'll go get something to dry you off
with.'
i take my leave into the next room, which is my bedroom. i
always keep a clean towel and i bring it out to him. it's
big enough that it wraps around him a few times, almost
like a blanket and he sits there, shivering and looking up
at me in awe.
'i-i should thank you, i guess, but...i have nothing t-t-
to give you, sir.'
i grin and shrug.
'it was entertaining. if nothing else...you're welcome to
stay the night if you'd like. i doubt very much that those
men will bother you any more...'
he nods, pensively.
'well...i'd really *like* to be able to give you something
in return for you saving me...'
'if i asked for anything, it'd be to have you back inside
of me...and i know it isn't your time,' i reply.
he nods. i can see he's uncomfortable about what happened,
but curious too. smiling, i stand, scoop him up into my
arms, take him to bed and let him sleep. i know he's erect
and i know he has questions, but i will not answer them.
the way out is through...
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[afterword]
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not much to say here. it's weak, it has no plot and the
characters kind of suck. the best ting about it is the
myriad of nine inch nails:the_fragile references.

all of the headings [and indeed, the title of the story]
are all song-titles from the new album. get it now, it's
certainly more entertaining listening than this story is...

[this is the first time in a *long* while that i've been
this harsh on any piece of mine, but...it sucks. did i
say that already? ;)]
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[this text copyright (c) 2000 nicodemus caine, greywolfe
and lostwolfe]

[commentry and witticism [or commentry and criticism] can be
left at:greywolfe@new.co.za personal attacks to the author
can be sent there too. be warned that most of those wind
up either in dev/null/ [yes, i really *am* a unix freak ;)]
or...on a bad day i'll just mail your root back with copies
of your witty dialogue.]

thankyou for reading this text file.
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