Free Sample
Preview from chapter one
What Fresh Hell...
12.20.21
Whatever this vicious bastard was, I felt like it was killing me.
I'd been stabbed once, and judging by the pain of that one, I was goaded into quick action to prevent the probable next strike.
I knew it was coming, and ripped the front of my trousers open in a desperate bid to stop what I was sure would be the end of me, literally and figuratively...
But not fast enough.
When the second jab landed, so did I, in a heap of scrabbling desperation, knowing only two things for certain.
One, was that I was currently experiencing the absolute worst agony of my thirty-two years and had no idea how to make it stop.
Two, was, I'd just been stung on the right side of the head of my cock and whatever got me, came from the god forsaken jungles of Costa Rica, so all bets were off as to it being deadly or just fucking painful as all hell.
"OH CHRIST!"
I'll admit it, I screamed like a little school girl when the damn thing hit my dick a second time, but by God, you would have too.
Being from Florida, I was no stranger to being bitten, stung and slashed by all manner of creatures that had looked at me as being a threat or part of the food chain.
But this was a whole new level of shit I was in, and the two stings on my poor cock head was my limit.
After an eternity of terror, I managed to shuck my pants, kicking them away from me as they dropped, praying whatever was inside wouldn't get me again.
Hoping for a chance at taking my revenge on the hateful creature.
Dreading what I might see, I made myself look down, not wanting to know the extent of the damage to my manhood, certain I was ruined forever, but glad that at least the worst was, at last, over.
What greeted my tremulous gaze was the fuel of nightmares.
Possibly for the rest of my life.
Poised atop my cock, like an angry child's fist and fastened in place with numerous clawed legs, was tityus pachyurus, the largest and arguably, the most pain inducing scorpion in Central America.
Flat out, it was the size of my hand, not slender like Americans are used to seeing, but beefy looking for lack of a better word, muscled up rampage, always on the lookout for its next victim.