Housesitter
Part Five
Midsummer
by The Preve
Inspired, in part, by "Shower", by A-L-E-X-X
Midsummer
Gavin Peters lay, bronzing in the Caribbean sun. On his left lounged Cassie Long, famous supermodel. To his right, basked Amyra, internationally famous R&B superstar.
All three were nude, oiled, and basking in the glow of wealth, power, and fame. This, after fucking each other into near oblivion, in a threesome blowout for the ages.
"Mmmm, the rewards," Gavin thought. He glanced left and right at the two nude beauties wondering,
What deals did these two make to get where they are now?
The deal Gavin made never troubled him. He'd learned, then, that the best way to get through the "business negotiation" was to rid himself of some inconveniences, the biggest being his soul.
The profits surpassed the cost: wealth beyond much of the world's population, a body and looks well past middle age, yet fit and trim as a thirty-year-old, and all the pussy and cock at his asking.
The only price was an investment of currency every seven years. Speaking of which,
It's midsummer. It starts tonight. Poor kid.
Not that Gavin felt any remorse. "Poor kid," was just an expression.
He might get through it.
If he did, Gavin would honor his end. Except in one notable instance, he never cheated. Gavin honored his deals, but only if someone was left.
****
The preceding week had been the same as the other two, and it was beginning to wear on Finn.
No stress, as Finn found, was just as trying as major stress. Finn was bored.
He'd had no dreams of Ryan or Christine since last week. No strange or disturbing sights, since the herd of goats.
The routine: exercise, swimming, jogging, inspecting, logging, was what kept him going. One slight difference was he took up sunbathing, using the body oil from the cupboards. Outside the light tan he acquired, nothing much happened with his appearance.
Per the requirements, he kept his hair cut short. The repetition of the past three weeks became near mechanical. He felt like a drone.
So when he returned from his usual morning jog, Finn didn't notice the slight change in the house, not until after his shower.
It's a little warm in here.
The date was June 20, the eve of the official start of summer.
Or midsummer.
The weather turned hot and muggy several days prior. The Weather Channel predicted a lingering heatwave in the northwest for a week or two.
Finn decided to jog earlier before the heat set in.
The subtle difference in the house, a stillness in the air, went unnoticed, initially.
"The climate control is off," he realized.
The console, which controlled the air conditioning, was located in the kitchen, near the refrigerators.
He opened a panel on the wall to view the display screen.
"Climate control temporarily paused for maintenance and adjustment." Restart was listed at 6:00am, June 21. "Which means the day and night are going to be tropical, fuck."
No portable fans were in the house.
Something to be broached with Gavin, next time I see him. So, I guess it's swimming and showering for the rest of the day, if I want to keep cool. I hope the tech can handle the humidity.
The cosmetician at the spa had given Finn pointers on keeping his skin moisturized, so he made sure to use lotion between swims and showers.
Such minor, mundane details explained why Finn Aiden Duffy was in the shower, at 11:55pm, June 20, on a hot, humid night, rinsing off in the cool spray.
Gavin had mentioned a message on midsummer, but the enervating day, in spite the light duties, made Finn decide it could wait until morning.
Meanwhile, he could do a little shampooing, and rinsing, before turning in.
As such, Finn stood in the shower, shampooing his hair, while in the library, the laptop opened, and the screen counted down.
00:00:00:15... 00:00:00:10... 00: 00:00:05... 4... 3... 2... 1...
Midsummer.
****
There were goblins in the shower.
At least, that's how Finn thought at first.
He couldn't think of any other word to describe them, except maybe that elf from
Harry Potter,
whom the "goblins" vaguely resembled, or the
mogwai
from
Gremlins
. The goblins had some resemblance there as well.
Goblins
was the only thought going through Finn's mind at the moment. He was too shocked to feel anything else, including fear.
He'd been startled, certainly, at the sound. A bubbly gurgle, like a series of cackles and giggles, mischievous, with some unsettling malevolence in its tone.
He'd just finished rinsing off the shampoo. He gasped and turned.
Now he was staring, water running down his nude body, at goblins; green, big-nosed, big-earred, goblins, with fiery red eyes, black slits in the middle; large, near oversized hands, elongated fingers capped by black, razor sharp nails; giant, broad, grinning mouths, teeth gleaming white.
Finally, cocks; big, long, thick, veiny cocks.
Almost one-third as big as their diminutive stature.
Finn's surprise ebbed, transforming into disbelief, and then fear. It wasn't so much the presence of goblins, but the numbers.
The shower was large. He remembered ten, perhaps, could fit in it. Except there were more than ten goblins.
Except there was supposed to be a mirrored wall behind them.
Except there was supposed to be his reflection.
Except there was no wall.
Instead, there were goblins, lots and lots of goblins, coming towards him.
Fear turned to terror and then, for a brief moment, relief.
Of course, Finn. You're dreaming. You fell asleep, probably on the couch, and now you're dreaming of three-foot-tall red-eyed goblins with giant cocks. You're going to wake up with a hard on, just like the last two.
Albeit, big-cocked goblins were way weirder than closeted gay interns and giant-bellied pregnant CFOs.
Nor, when the goblins hissed and rushed forward, did he wake with a hard on.
"Oh fuck!" Relief became terror, and immediately after, panic.
Finn made a run for the shower entrance. The impossibility of goblins coming through a mirror, would be looked at later. Escape, and a place to barricade himself, were the priorities. He didn't make it.
The entrance was only close, so long as there weren't swarms of goblins attacking him. Tonight, it may as well have been on the other side of the continent.
"Aw shit!" Finn nearly wept as goblins blocked the shower entrance. They swarmed his body seconds later.
"Get off me man!"
Finn fought. He fought hard, hitting out, striking surprisingly firm bodies. Tittering giggles, cackles, and gibberings answered him.
Goblin bodies piled upon his. Finn's panicked, terrified struggles prevented him from noticing, however hard he hit, the creatures didn't hit back.
Nor did they stab him with their obsidian sharp nails, albeit he received more than a few scratches.
The goblins weren't interested in breaking Finn. They had other plans.
Finn was forced to the tiles, on his back. Goblin arms grabbed his arms and legs, and held him fast in a tight grip, in spite his water-slick body.
Finn continued to struggle, his naked body gyrated in the goblins' arms.
What the fuck's happening?! Where did these things come from?! What happened to the wall?!
Some goblins left the shower. They returned a short time later, carrying bottles of,
Body oil?! What the fuck?!
The goblins tittered, giggled, and leered at him. Many licked their black lips, with impossibly long tongues. Their cocks, already long and fat, grew frighteningly hard.
Oh fuck! Are they going to...?!
The goblins spread his arms and legs, until his body lay splayed. Bottles of oil were opened and poured on his skin, with special emphasis on his groin.
Finn watched, helpless, as goblin hands grasped his oil-drenched cock, and stroked.
Fuck! Goblins are stroking me! Oh fuck! I'm getting hard!
Finn's rod, before his shocked blue eyes, stiffened to hard, throbbing flesh. A tittering goblin opened its mouth, to unspool a long, serpentine tongue.
The tongue wrapped around his flesh, slithering, slobbering, and licking, and the goblin took him into his mouth.
Finn's struggles continued. His writhing body assumed near sensual gyrations.
The goblin's mouth was warm and wet. Its teeth were hard, but gentle, brushing against the thin flesh of his cock. Its tongue licked down to his bare groin, slobbering even to his taint and balls.
Finn's cock reacted. Helpless in the grip of creatures out of nightmare fairy tales, who performed acts of intimate carnality on his person.
The others lowered their heads and slathered tongues across his rippling torso.
A goblin straddled his chest, like the
Nightmare
from the famous painting, and used its strong hands to force back his head, exposing his throat. It sat, with hard cock, waiting.
Finn looked up at it, with its balls hovering just above him; grunts, gasps hissed from his mouth.
What is it doing?
The question receded to the back of his thoughts, replaced by the realization,
Fuck! Oh fuck! I'm gonna cum!
His orgasm slammed into him in waves, and his body arched upwards. A warm, liquid bloom burst in the goblin's mouth, and white cream squirted outward, and flowed down Finn's shaft.
His mouth opened for an orgasmic gasp, and the goblin on his chest struck.
"Aaaa... ulp?! Mmff!"
The young man's mouth filled with salty, musty, hard flesh.
