Sinbad The Shy

As Spencer Warren and Randy Carter zoomed through Interstate 10 in San Antonio a voice roared over the stereo speakers of Carter's six wheeled diesel Dodge Ram:

"I am the god of fuck!

I am the god of fuck!"

Marilyn Manson's "Everlasting Cocksucker" - a remix of the original song "Cake and Sodomy" from a playlist Spencer had prepared on his iPod. Other songs on this recently created list included Korn's "A.D.I.D.A.S.", Nine Inch Nails's "Closer", and the Pantera rendition of "Cat Scratch Fever."

Spencer was quite jittery as he rode shotgun to his Army buddy Carter in his truck on their way to a Motel 6 just off of the mighty I-10. After all, this was going to be nineteen year old Spencer's first date with a MILF/Cougar waiting for him there at the No-tell-motel. Soldier medic training in AIT was now non-existent in Spencer's mind as they drew ever closer to the destination. Thank goodness for weekend passes!

Overhead, a bluish glow hovered in the sky almost as if it were following them. Preoccupied with what was about to come, Spencer quickly dismissed the light as a plane….

"I'm telling ya, dawg, this bitch has to be married if you met her on Fort Sam and she wants you to do the deed at a motel!" Carter threw out. "She probably lives on Fort Sam and is married to an officer and has kids. You better watch it or you might get your ass whooped or shot or dishonorably discharged!"

"I don't know player," Spencer brooded. "This is a weird chick. But it looks like she wants it bad, and I'll be the one to give it to her!" Spencer's confidence did not match up to what his bravado suggested.

Carter, a twenty-two year old PFC from Wyoming, shrugged. Spencer was glad to have befriended him. Carter had a laid back brother who lived in San Antonio that had no problem loaning Carter one of his trucks over the weekend. Otherwise Spencer would have had to waste money on endless cabs to get around during weekend passes.

"You better be careful," Carter added. "Maybe she's bipolar or something. She could be some crazy ho who'll try to cut your prick off if you piss her off!"

Spencer noticed a Chrysler 300 with a personalized license plate which read "Aza" whiz by.

"Fuck all that," Spencer erupted, "then her hubby would have a lot more to worry about than me!"

"You're fuckin' crazy, dude!" Carter spat, laughed, and drove on.

"Hey, look," Spencer started, "if this turns out to be some lame ass date I'll call you ASAP. Shit, from this motel I could walk over to the Riverwalk and meet up with the rest of you guys."

"Sounds like a plan," Carter muttered.

At last they found the target motel. Carter pulled up to the front area and teased, "Easy and sleazy. Sneaky and freaky. Foxtrot Company kicks ass! Warrior spirit!"

"Hooah!" Spencer barked back. "Let's see if she really is a fox hot to trot!"

"Call me, ya little fuck!" Carter beamed. "I'll come pick you up tomorrow."

And then Spencer set foot into the parking lot when Carter rolled out. He adjusted his backpack and gazed up at the rooms. In all honesty, Spencer was unnerved. An older woman. He certainly didn't want to seem like some bumbling "quick-draw McGraw" who couldn't make a good first impression. From somewhere across the parking lot Spencer recognized Liz Phair's song "H.W.C." sailing through the air from an unseen vehicle's stereo. Spencer sighed and mounted a stairwell that would lead him to the room number he had been instructed to go to for the rendezvous. After creeping up with his head on a swivel he stood in front of the designated door and knocked firmly, trying his best to still appear calm and cool.

With absolutely no pause the door opened.

"Paige" - if that was her real name - emerged. Pale, pasty white skin, jet black hair, only wearing tight fitting yoga pants and a sports bra. Immediately Spencer noticed how ridiculously made up she was. Emerald glittery eye shadow and crimson lipstick. This looked kinda cheesy for a woman her age, almost as if she was going to a Halloween party, but Spencer admitted to himself that Paige's juvenile makeup turned him on and put him at ease.

"Are you coming in or not?" Paige invited.

"Of course," Spencer said dumbly. She then shut the door with her bare foot. Toenail polish as black as her hair.

He set down his backpack on the floor and sat up next to her in the bed against the headboard. The t.v. was playing a news recast which further relaxed him. The room was nice enough. One bed, a nightstand, and a dresser with a bottle of bubbly on ice. Spencer noticed Paige didn't seem to have any baggage or belongings - at least none in plain view.

"Would you like some champagne?" Paige asked.

"Not yet," Spencer replied. "Maybe a little later."

"Suit yourself," Paige whispered with a shrug. "How's the Army, Sinbad?"

He shot her a bewildered look. "My name's Spencer. I'm not a sailor. That's the Navy." Spencer chuckled.

"I think Sinbad suits you better," Paige said with a strange wink and placed her hand on his arm.

Just from that slight physical touch Spencer could feel an erection swelling up. He smiled and placed his arm around her shoulder. Why had he been worried in the first place? This was going to be so easy and so fun. "Fine, fine, call me Sinbad if you want to."

Not hesitating, Paige took him into her arms and smothered him, filling his mouth with her tongue. Spencer sank into the bed without resistance. Engulfed with warmth Spencer felt as if he was being embraced by many arms. His hard-on now felt as massive as the Tower of the Americas.

He ripped off her yoga pants and the two wrestled and groped each other for a second until they were both bare naked, their tender flesh open to the air. Spencer's brain blacked out as they went into it. Before he knew it, his ego had been spent.

Gasping for breath Spencer moaned, "I'm sorry." So ashamed of his premature ejaculation.

"What are you sorry about?" Paige asked with a sanguine look of approval. "We have plenty of time for more!"

Paige invited him back into her, afterward doing every explicit act that a couple could do. Finally, Spencer collapsed onto the bed feeling so satisfied yet drained at the same time. His memories became blurry after that.

They must have just sat up in the bed and talked for a while after that. Then he must have fallen asleep. Spencer dreamed he was soaring through the cosmos in interstellar space like Superman. A potent surge of sexual arousal accompanied this flight. Then, it was as if Spencer could hear snippets of a conversation. A conversation about him. But the words were not English; they were more like electromagnetic impulses, yet he could still somehow interpret their meaning.

I have no doubt about this one…he'll die with a smile on his face…we need to feed on more like him…so vital!…he's enjoying this…no, let's make him one of….

Spencer was having an orgasm all the while. He felt like his seed was spreading throughout the galaxy. He picked up on the "sound" of a name as he eavesdropped on the "conversation". The first half of the name sounded something like "Snub" or "Smug" whereas the second part sounded a bit like the "n word". Spencer sensed this name was associated with whatever brought him into the void.

A tentacle was wrapped tightly around him. Spencer suddenly realized he was being held by an enormous octopus thing in the abyss of space. This horrific monstrosity was still clutching other husks of humans in its many long arms. He abruptly lost all sexual pleasure and let out a long shriek. Other unspeakable squid-like creatures were leering and closing in.

Still screaming, little "Sinbad" found himself back in the motel bed. Worse feeling he ever had - exhausted, drained, dehydrated, starved, and terribly disoriented all simultaneously. On the large mirror over the dresser a sticky note had been placed. It simply read:

Thanks, Sinbad

'Till next weekend?

Spencer crawled out of bed, still naked, and drank water from the bathroom sink using his cupped hands. Paige was nowhere to be found. He checked the time. 9:11. Spencer sighed with small relief. Checkouts were usually at 11 am. He wouldn't need to rush. Since this had been Paige's room anyway he could just call Carter to pick him up and then slip out and get something to eat. Damn, he was so fuckin' hungry.

Carter soon arrived at the motel in the big-ass truck. "What did you do, marry that girl over the weekend? Where the shit you been?" he demanded as soon as Spencer climbed in.

"We screwed our brains out all night, that's all," Spencer muttered. "I'm hungry as hell. Stop anywhere. I don't care where."

"You look like shit," Carter balked. "You could have at least called me back yesterday. I left you at least two or three messages."

"Yesterday? What are you talking about? It's Saturday morning."

"Yeah right, you wish," Carter came back. "It's Sunday morning and we have formation back at Sam Houston for 1600."

Spencer dry heaved and clutched his chest, feeling his heart about to pound out of his ribcage.

"Hey, are you okay?" Carter probed with genuine concern.

"You're fuckin' around, aren't you?" Spencer pleaded. "It's really Saturday morning, right?"

"Seriously, dude?" Carter asked, amazed. "Were you two freaks doing ecstasy or something? You better hope we don't get a random piss test!"

Shocked and scared Spencer finally accepted that it really was Sunday morning and that a whole day had somehow vanished. Out of pity Carter agreed to stop at a Jack in the Box for Spencer and then bring him back to Fort Sam so he could just lie in his bunk until it was time for formation. Spencer was never so happy to be back in the barracks and slumped in his bunk. Finally feeling things were "normal" again, he drank water from his canteen and mentally recaptured how he had first met Paige….

That night Spencer, Carter, and some other guys had went to the mini-mall on Fort Sam on a week evening to hang out after the day's classes and duties. Spencer had stole away alone to stroll outside and look longingly up into the sky. After all this was one of the nights Jacques Vallee had predicted increases in UFO sightings based on a pattern he had formulated based on Earth's proximity to Mars. Valle suddenly ceased speaking about these dates of increased sightings after he was hired to assist in Project Blue Book. Spencer loved astronomy and the inquiry into UFOs. He considered one day even switching over to the Air Force, applying for Officer Training School, and perhaps pursuing a career as an astronaut. He enjoyed staring up at the stars and pondering the infinite possibilities. Gazing into the past. All the light from those hot balls of gas could be thousands of years old!

An "electric crackling" sound suddenly destroyed Spencer's daydream followed by a pleasant odor of perfume. There had been an unusual buzzing sound too, like a strong surge of voltage.

"Hi," a soft feminine voice greeted from the darkness of a grass field just outside the mini-mall.

At first Spencer was star-struck. Initially he thought the porn actress Belladonna was walking up to him with an inviting, adolescent smile. Belladonna in her early days as a late teen. But then he blinked and thought again. Although still very appealing to him this woman was of an indeterminate age in the darkness. Maybe thirty-six or thirty-seven. She was dressed in a skimpy cut off tank-top tee shirt and running shorts as if she had just come from the gym. Her legs were long, flawless, and appeared to gleam in the night.

"Didn't mean to startle you," the woman began. "I saw you looking up into the sky and just thought you might like some company."

Spencer smiled and told her his entire "Jacques Valle" reason for being out there, feeling a little nerdy after doing so. All this was very strange, yet Spencer went along with it. She was cute, but, for the life of him, he could not pinpoint her age. For a moment he perceived her at about twenty-eight, then no, definitely in her mid to late thirties.

"Would you like to continue our conversation at Starbucks?" the woman urged.

"Can't" Spencer stated. "I'm still in AIT. Bed check is at 2100. I'd like to but I'll get in trouble if I'm not back in my barracks."

"Too bad," the lady groaned. "Would you like to see me again some other time?"

By now Spencer caught on that she wanted him…or something from him. They exchanged phone numbers like two high school kids and agreed to meet up for the weekend. "What's your name?" Spencer asked.

"You can call me Paige," she answered with a smile accentuating her moist lips. "What's yours?"

"Spencer."

With that she nodded and strode toward the mini-mall. For an instant Spencer thought she shimmered in the dark field and then faded away. He attributed this to Paige blending into the shadows of the wide grassy field.

For almost every night up until he was able to meet up with Paige at the motel he had nocturnal emissions about her. So embarrassing. What if this was discovered?! Abruptly during the day of that first Friday he received a blunt text from Paige asking him if he wanted to meet her at the Motel 6, already supplying a room number. With as much curiosity as lust Spencer readily surrendered.

During the week days after that disquieting "lost Saturday" Spencer felt overly anxious and paranoid - especially on his free time. Going to evening chow at the dfac became stressful. Was he being watched? Faces seemed to scowl at him with contempt. Every vehicle that passed by him on the street was a mystery on its own. What if Paige was married to a Lieutenant Colonel and he was somewhere out there ready to pounce on him? Or what if she really was a basket case and was stalking him, would kidnap him, drug him, and leave him stranded someplace days later? He'd be marked AWOL and his military career would be in shambles. Maybe this was some cruel test or prank the Army was playing on him. Drill Sergeants sitting back laughing their asses off while he sweated. Spencer began to second guess whether if the Army was right for him.

Nightmares plagued him as well. Terrifying dreams of being constantly followed by hideous entities with deformed features. Spencer began losing sleep and feeling more run down during the day. His morning PT suffered, and he had to stand up during classes to avoid being chastised for nodding off.

When Carter and the guys decided to go to the mini-mall or the bowling alley after dinner during these days Spencer elected to just go back to the barracks. This only inspired ribbing from his battle-buddies. Was Spencer sick? Or in love? Or both? Spencer just shrugged all this off, saying he wanted to study up for the NREMT exam.

Thursday Spencer randomly shot Paige a phone call. The automated voice droned that the number was no longer in service or could not be reached. This actually relieved Spencer. It had all been just one night of wild fun but was now over. Paige had certainly either shut down or changed that number. Perhaps she was married with kids after all. Spencer, for the first time in days, began to breathe more easily.

His peace of mind was short lived. No sooner had Spencer's platoon been released for the weekend late Friday afternoon when Paige called, "Same motel, same room number at eight. Will you come?" Her voice sounded garbled, like static. Almost like a radio station coming in clear, then fuzzy.

"Not sure…I don't know," Spencer uttered, feeling that exaggerated primordial fear once again.

"I won't be in the area much longer," her voice almost rasped. "Hope to see you there."

Spencer started to speak but the line was already dead. Instinctual fear assailed him, yet at the same time a kind of gravitational pull compelled him to want to see her once more.

It was almost 1800. If he got his backpack ready for another overnight escapade and then either got Carter to give him a lift or hailed a cab outside he could make it to Paige's room for another booty call. Walking through the barracks Spencer passed by a battle-buddy reading a tablet in his bunk.

"Hey, Spence," his fellow soldier medic grunted. "Heading out again for the weekend?"

"Yeah, I gotta meet up with this crazy chick."

"Cool. Have fun."

"Staying in?" Spencer asked. "Whatcha reading?"

"The Third Voyage of Sinbad the Sailor," he smiled without looking up from his tablet.

Spencer gasped and held his chest. He stammered something and then went silent.

"You alright, Spence? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

"I'm good. I just lost my equilibrium for a second." With that Spencer waved and then scurried out of the barracks.

After maybe five minutes Spencer convinced himself that it was just an eerie coincidence and no cause for alarm. He found Carter and the boys loitering around just outside of their building. After much teasing and jeering Carter agreed to drive Spencer back to the motel. My poor pussy whipped friend, Carter kept taunting.

The ride to the motel was uneventful except for an antiques truck Spencer spotted with the name Thoth Antiques advertised on its side. An intimidating Egyptian god stood menacingly with his arms outstretched. The sky was gloriously clear. More stars than usual could be seen beginning to twinkle on the dusk celestial sphere. Was there something moving up in the sky again?

Carter clowned Spencer up when he dropped him off, telling him to call him when he finished letting Paige slap him around like the bitch boy he really was. This time Spencer moved straight to the room and knocked firmly. Like last time the door opened automatically, revealing a grinning Paige in Victoria Secret lingerie. Silky smooth legs. Cleopatra night black hair. Spencer hesitated but then entered the chamber.

On the t.v. the movie Lifeforce was on at the exact time where Mathilda May was walking her famous nude scene as the space girl. Spencer's pupils became dilated upon seeing the screen and even more so at Paige.

"You're not afraid of me, are you?" Paige questioned, patting the side next to her on the bed.

"What happened last time?" Spencer inquired. "Time got lost. A whole day disintegrated."

"Nothing," Paige cajoled, batting her long eyelashes. "We fell asleep after we…well, you know. You weren't exactly complaining about what we did!"

Spencer cleared his throat but said nothing.

"Come here, Sinbad," Paige whispered ever so sweetly. "My feet hurt. Would you please massage my aching feet?"

Spencer joined her in the bed and then took her left foot in his hands, enjoying how baby soft and delightful it was to fondle. As he squeezed the smooth warm flesh he realized an irresistible urge to bring her feet up to his face and kiss them. When he did the subtle scent of her feet aroused him beyond belief. He buried his nose in her moist soles and sniffed arduously. He licked her heels lovingly and then suckled her toes. Spencer whimpered, admitting to himself how horny he was and once again helplessly under her control.

"There, that's it," Paige coaxed. "Feel better?"

Somewhere from the reptilian, primal part of Spencer's brain he was reminded of the "Sinbad" synchronicity.

"Don't worry, Sinbad," Paige almost meowed. "I'm just going to give you what you want."

At this point Spencer suspected she was reading his mind. "Does it matter?" Paige blurted out, answering his silent question.

She straddled him and filled herself with him. He caressed her, now recalling their first "date". She bounced on him and spun her hips in a circle. He kneaded her bosom more savagely as she dug her fingernails into his thighs.

Exploding into her in another mind shattering orgasm, Spencer saw a whirlwind of stars swirling around him as if he had been bumped in the head. Paige glared down at him with an affectionate but mysterious smirk. She leaned down and kissed him. He could feel her abysmal black hair spilling down onto his shoulders. Spencer's vision suddenly began to flicker…between the reality of being there in the room with her…and something else. As if he kept waking up from and then falling back into a dream. A dream his conscious mind didn't want to acknowledge.

"Do you still want me?" Paige whispered smoothly and ran her warm hands over his chest.

A thought struck Spencer. "You're leaving soon, though, aren't you? You said you wouldn't be around much longer."

"Correct," Paige droned in an unfamiliar tone.

"Then I won't be able to see you anymore," Spencer mumbled to himself. His eyes closed unintentionally accompanied by a feeling of sleep paralysis.

"We've already left," a voice articulated.

When Spencer forced his eyes open he wished he never did. Silently and solemnly he thanked the Army for all the rigorous exercise it had forced upon him, giving him a strong heart - otherwise he feared he would have died of a heart attack A swarm of tendrils, wings, and suction cups flurried around him somewhere high up in a black vacuum. To his horror Spencer now understood that some of those tentacles were not clutching him. They were his own appendages!

"Let's go, Sinbad," something communicated non-verbally.

Drill Sergeants in Foxtrot Company were the first to interrogate Carter when Spencer was out of ranks for Sunday's afternoon formation. Carter testified that he had dropped Specialist Spencer Warren off at the motel the previous Friday night to meet a strange girl and that something "funny" had happened to him during that first weekend. Carter also relayed that Warren never called him back during that second weekend and that his iPhone number was now "non-existent" when Carter attempted to call it.

In its entirety Foxtrot Company was locked down after Warren's disappearance. No one was permitted to leave Fort Sam Houston on weekend pass. Carter was issued an Article 15 and demoted to an E1 for being negligent and abandoning a "fallen comrade". All soldiers in training in Foxtrot Company lost the privilege of using privately owned vehicles.

When the Company Commander and the First Sergeant visited the motel the manager insisted that the room number Carter had claimed Spencer went to did not even exist. The clerk on duty during those weekends submitted that no woman matching the description of how Spencer Warren had supposedly depicted her ever checked into a room during those times. Furthermore, no one at the motel had seen Warren or had any idea of what could have happened to him.

San Antonio police consequently got involved in the search for the MIA Spencer Warren.

One uncanny thing was that on that last Friday night Carter saw Spencer Warren after allegedly dropping him off at the motel, there were some unearthly sightings above Lackland Air Force Base. Two bluish glowing lights were sighted spinning around in the sky, orbiting each other, almost as if dancing….