THUNDER BOYS: THE STORM THAT COMES, AT LAST By Matt (THE STORM) Lucas Beckett CHAPTER ONE: THE THUNDER BOYS BEGIN 80%, he was closing on John, but not quite there yet. Mark wasn't sure why it was so important to him to equal his boy-friend's 84% of the width of his face nasal apparatus, what John called the absolute minimum for what could be called a snout, but it was. The ringing doorbell roused him from his musings. He glanced at the clock. "7:30," he cried. "How did that happen?" "Well," said his younger sister, Hillary. "Half an hour ago it was 7:00 and. . ." "It was a rhetorical question,"snapped Mark, as he quickly finished getting ready and then ran to the door and flung it open. "Anxious to go, Mark?" John teased. "No need to be in quite such a rush." "Sorry," said Mark. "I was distracted and not as ready as I had intended at 7:30, so I rushed the rest and rushed to the door." "The party doesn't even start until 9," John reminded him. "And it won't take us twenty minutes to get there, even if traffic is terrible. I have to say, I'm also not looking forward to my thirtieth birthday party as much as you, the spring chicken, apparently are." "I'm only two years younger than you," Mark reminded him. "So it's not like I won't be there pretty soon myself." "True," John agreed. "But since we're all here and apparently ready, and we don't need to leave for at least an hour, shall we have a drink?" "You and Hillary can," Mark replied, then rattled the car keys and John nodded. * * * An hour later, Mark sat in the driver's seat, his boy-friend beside him and Hillary and her boy-friend Sam in the back seat, making out. "There will be private rooms at the hotel," Mark called teasingly over his shoulder. "As long as you're there for the singing and the cake, the evening is everyone's to do as they wish. No need to make love in my back seat." “We're not making love, just making ou. . ." Hillary started defensively, until she saw that her elder brother was laughing. "OK," she said grumpily. "You got me that time, Mark." For the rest of the ride, no one spoke, and nothing else of note happened. * * * "Great party you put together for John, Mark," said David as he took a break from dancing with Pauline to grab a drink. "How did you get a conservative joint like this to agree to host one half of a gay couple's birthday party put on by the other half?" "Well," said Mark sheepishly. "John and Joan don't sound that different." David nodded, then took his drink to the table where Ralph sat waiting. "Being bisexual must be EXTREMELY complicated," Mark reflected, looking at his best friend besides John. "So," said John, surprising him from behind. "What were you so absorbed with just before I got there, Mark?" Mark hesitated a moment, then plunged ahead. "The fact that I've still only reached eighty percent while your. . ." "THat again," said John. "I don't know why you get so worked up about that. I love you for who you are, not how you look. Not that there is anything wrong with the latter either, in my eyes." Mark started to answer, when they heard the siren. "Morality police," shouted their friend Angela from the window. "Lights out, duck, and run." The first two were easy, but running in the dark, while ducked, was not, particularly in the raging thunder storm that greeted them when they reached the back door. Suddenly, Mark stumbled and fell. John started to help him up, when there was a click followed by a very nasty voice. "Got you," he got out his radio. "I've caught the primary offenders, sir. What should I do?" There was a moment of silence, and then a voice crackled over the communication device. "Shoot them. We don't want their filth clogging the jails or the courts, so make it quick." Knowing there was no escape, John and Mark held each other as close as possible, wanting to at least be together at the end. Suddenly, though, as the vigilante of what he called morality and justice pointed his gun at them and cocked it, a huge bolt of lightning struck right where they were, engulfing them both, and the thunder clap that followed was deafening. But when it was over, Mark discovered, to his astonishment, which he saw reflected in John's eyes, that they were both totally unharmed. The man's eyes went wide, then narrowed. "Well, if nature can not do it, I still can." He pulled the trigger and Mark felt John stiffen in the same dreadful anticipation that he felt. Six inches from their bodies, however, the bullet flicked and vanished. "what the hell," cried the man, and shot again, but again the bullet dissolved six inches from their bodies. The same thing happened with his four remaining bullets. He started to reload. "Why don't you take that as a hint and leave us alone," said Mark, waving a hand as if to shoo the man away like a pesky fly. As he waved his hand in this manner, however, he felt a jolt in it immediately followed by a clap of thunder that had nothing to do with the sky, and instantly the man's gun vanished. Looking shocked, the man produced a knife and threw it, but a flick of John's hand brought forth another thunder bolt that dissolved it as well. "What the hell are you?" the man cried. "Freaks from the netherworld?" "No," said Mark, beginning to understand and instantly deciding on a name. "We are the first of the Thunder Boys. No weapon can touch us unless we allow it, and. . ." he raised a hand with a clenched fist, then opened it and suddenly there were two separate and equally violent thunder storms raging in the same place. "You can see how we can effect the whether." The man gulped, then ran. "Do you think this is only for us, or could any gay couple use this to defend themselves from people like him?" asked John. Mark thought about it a bit. "My sense is that this could not have happened to me when my nose was any smaller than it now is because it could not have held the lightning, so to speak. I guess that's why I was so obsessed with that. I also feel that its only for males, why else would I have come up with the name 'Thunder Boys', and only strictly gay couples. It is 'boys' after all, not 'boy' and also boys not boys and girls. With 'boys' it also feels like there must be an age cap." "Ys," said John. "Both ways, I sense. I feel you're almost too young and I'm not that far from too old." "It must be no younger than twenty-five and no older than thirty-five," said Mark. "So, shall we try and get some of our friends to find this path to freedom of sorts?" asked John. Mark raised a quizzical eyebrow. "You mean encourage them to get struck by lightning?" "Fair point," John admitted. "But at least the two of us can do some good for our cause with these new powers, now that we have become the first Thunder Boys." "Agreed, said Mark, and he raised both fists into the air. John placed his fists against Mark's and together they shouted: "LET IT BE KNOWN, THIS IS THE DAY THAT THE THUNDER BOYS BEGIN!" CHAPTER TWO: THE STORM GROWS "Matt," cried Luke. "Come ON. Stop obsessing over the size of your nostrils and trying to cover it up. We'll be late, AGAIN." "Angela and Greg don't like seeing my full snout," Matt called from the bathroom. "I'll be along as soon as I am done with covering the outer edges up." "Who cares what your stupid sister and her stupid boy-friend think. I'm YOUR boy-friend, and I like seeing your full snout covering the entire width of your face." Of course, Luke's nasal apparatus, as he thought of it in general terms, was not that far behind. It was almost a full snout, almost the width of his face, but not quite as big and so as gorgeous as Matt's FULL snout. Five minutes later, Matt emerged from the bathroom, his nostrils appearing to end below his pupils rather than covering the entirety of his cheeks. "Fine," Luke sighed. "But next week at my thirtieth birthday party, you wear your full and enormous snout." "Agreed," said Matt, giving a smile that extended what looked like merely the outer edges of his cheeks past the outer edges of his face, almost causing Luke to ejaculate in his undershorts and making him very glad that he had masturbated himself dry that afternoon. "Now, let's go." "That's what I've been saying for half an hour," Luke grumbled as they headed towards the car. * * * "I see you finally had at least a bit of nasal reduction surgery, Matthew," said Greg. "Looks much better." It was all Luke could do to keep from smearing Matt's make-up to show Greg that he was wrong. But Matt pleaded with a sideways look for him not to do so, so he held his hands and his tongue. Greg's nose wasn't much smaller than his WAS and Matt's now appeared to be, so Luke didn't think the matter would be pressed any further. "So?" he asked lightly, trying to keep the conversation friendly. "What are your plans for Thanksgi. . ." "Nobody move!" came a sudden shout from the door. Looking up, he saw four men all in black, even the masks that covered their faces, and wielding assault rifles bursting through the door. "Wallets, keys, cell phones, guns, on the floor, NOW," shouted a different robber. "No texting 911," shouted another as Matt started to punch something into his phone. He quickly dropped it, but seeing him seemed to draw the crooks' attention to their table, which Luke could tell at once had made things ten times worse. "Three boys, one girl, I'm guessing two of you are queers, and that it's the two of you," said a female voice behind another black mask, pointing at Matt and him. Luke gulped. "No queers leave this building alive. . ." she began, when. . . Suddenly the entire restaurant went pitch black. Moments later, there was the loudest and closest rumble of thunder Luke had ever heard. It sounded like it was actually right inside the room. Then there was a flash of lightning, and two men appeared. Both had EXTREMELY big noses, although neither quite equalled his almost snout. They looked very calm and collected, all things considered, Luke also observed. Then he wondered for a moment if he had just imagined everything, as the lights came back on. But then he saw that the two men were still there. 'Who the hell are you and what are you doing here, interrupting our stick up?" demanded the female robber. "I'm Mark," said the sightly smaller, in nose and in build, one. He pointed at the other. "This is John. We're The Thunder Boys. And we're here in the middle of your stick up to put a stop to it." "Impressive pyrotechnics and grandiose but silly name, but it won't save these two." One of the robbers cocked his gun and pointed it at Matt and him, as they held close to each other, trembling. "Maybe not," said John. "But this will." At the same moment the robber's gun released a bullet towards them, John waved his left hand and there was a huge clap of thunder, and suddenly a ball of lightning engulfed Luke and his boy-friend, yet he did not feel it burning him or harming him in any way. When the ball of lightning cleared, the bullet was still flying at them, but suddenly it just vanished. Luke couldn't decide who in the restaurant looked more shocked by this, the robbers, Matt, or the other customers. But John and Mark did not look at all surprised. "You're Thunder Boys now too," Mark told Matt and Luke. "You're both male, both have more than big enough noses. . ." "Snouts," Luke interrupted. "Fine," aid Mark. "You both have snouts, which more than fulfill the minimum required eighty percent, you're both older than twenty-five and younger than thirty five, and you're obviously a committed strictly gay couple, so John and I have now made you the second pair of Thunder Boys, and no firearm's projectiles can make it closer than six inches to any Thunder Boys' bodies." Mark raised a hand and shot a single thunder bolt from it as one of the robbers threw a knife towards him, and it too vanished. John made a sweeping motion with both hands, causing rolls of thunder to surround the room, and all of the robbers' weapons vanished. "I suggest you leave," Mark told the robbers. "Before we summon a thunder storm to destroy you as well. And don't think we can't or won't, as what you have already seen should convince you of." The crooks didn't need telling twice, and soon the normal hubbub of conversation had returned to the room. "Join us, won't you?" said Matt, whom Luke saw to his delight had somehow had his make-up washed away by all that had happened, revealing his full and enormous snout, although to Luke's delight, his sister and Greg no longer looked on it with displeasure. "Then you can tell Luke and I everything we need to know about being Thunder Boys." "Thank you," said John, puling two chairs over to the table. "Although, truth be told, since as far as we know, we're the first, Mark and I are pretty much making it up as we go along. But we'll tell you what we can, if you'll settle for that." He looked at Matt for a moment. "This much I can tell you, Matthew. Yes, I know you're name. I'm not psychic, I just overheard someone. Anyway, with that amazing snout, you will be the most powerful of the Thunder Boys, no matter how many of us there eventually are." Luke wasn't sure Matt liked the sound of that, from his expression, but after a moment he and Matt nodded eagerly, wanting to know more regardless. "Well," said Mark. "The first thing. . ." THE END. CHAPTER THREE: THE THUNDER STRIKES That year,for the first time, The Nut Case Rebellious Anarchists and The Gays Are The Scourge That God Hates Above Alls held their Annual Conventions together. "Well, why not?" said Fredrick Homophobe. "After all, we're both really playing for the same team." "True enough," echoed Wayne Moses Colt the Forty-Fifth. All was set to begin, as the two leaders of the two movements took to the stage to thunderous applause from all of the Conservative Crowd gathered inside, drowning out the voices of the unexpectedly sparse number of protesters outside. "I guess they have finally realized the pointlessness of fighting the inevitable," said Homophobe. "It would seem so," agreed Colt. Then he turned to the mic. "Friends and Allies in Arms against the Liberal Agenda of taking our guns and allowing fags and queers to practice their vile arts against the Order of Nature and Nature's God, welcome. We are gathered here today to. . ." Suddenly, the entire stadium went dark. When each tried to tell the crowd not to panic, that it was just a short in the lights, they found their mics were dead too. "How did those silly protesters knock out all of our electricity?" asked Homophobe. "How did they find a way around our internal back-up. . ?" "Gun Nuts and Gay Haters, your attention please," said a voice like thunder from the shadows, it seemed like from every direction at once. "This convention is CANCELLED, as are all future activities of this nature. The Thunder Boys are here in force to end such activities." Suddenly, there were roars of thunder and bolts of lightning from every direction, and in each bolt of lightning a new pair of young men with incredibly big noses appeared. Colt shouted "Fire," but without the mic, his voice only carried a short distance. His followers, however, already had the idea, for a volley of bullets rained down on all of the invaders. However, they all seemed to have some kind of invisible force field around them, for every bullet vanished no less than what Colt guessed to be about six inches before it hit their bodies. "Nice try," said a different voice, again seeming to come from every direction. "But bullets can not harm Thunder Boys. They automatically dissolve six inches from our bodies." "How about this," said someone, and a knife flew at one of the newcomers. However, the strange being merely gave a casual wave of his left hand, the sound of a thunder bolt issued from it, and the knife also vanished. "We can do that to any weapon," said one of the self proclaimed "Thunder Boys", then he turned to his partner. "I thunk it's time we make our point a bit clearer, don't you, John?" The sightly older looking Thunder Boy nodded. "I think so, Mark." "Matt and I will help," said the younger boy of another pair. "Good, Luke," said John. "The more the better." Before anyone could say or do anything, all four "boys" swept their arms in wide arcs, throwing Thunderbolts in all directions, and suddenly every firearm and any other weapon in the place dissolved right in its owner's hands. "Now," said a still different 'boy'. "The killing ends now, at least by everyone here. No more gun runs with every lunatic criminal being able to buy any gun they want as long as they have money, and no more hate action or even hate speech against those of us who are gay. Anyone who can live with those terms has two minutes to leave this convention center. And make no mistake, as the door guards, Paul and I will know if you are lying. Not all Thunder Boys can read minds, but we can." "Right, Jeremiah," said his partner. There was a pause, and then a few people walked towards the door, and Paul and Jeremiah let all but two of them pass. "What are you going to do to the rest of us, or what do you think you're going to do, I should say?" said a husky voice as an eight feet tall man who looked to weigh four hundred pounds approached and took a swing at them. However, Matthew threw a thunder bolt before it hit Paul's face and the hand disappeared. "Any weapon," All of The Thunder Boys repeated as the man cried out, cradling what remained of his arm. "Kill them," cried Colt and Homophobe together. "Wrong answer," said Luke. Suddenly, before anyone else could act, all of The Thunder Boys made wide arcs with both arms. Instantly, a tremendous thunder storm erupted in the hall. Not just A thunder storm, a countless number of thunder storms. "It's a Thunder War!" cried one of the conventioneers as bolts of lightning clashed and struck at each other, setting fire to everything and everyone in between. The man went ablaze three seconds later, and screamed as his body was reduced to dust and ash. Several tried to flee, but Paul and Jeremiah still blocked the door. "You chose this," they told people as they started to cry and plead fir their lives. Suddenly, there was a great boom as a canon ball was shot at John and Mark from somewhere. "They'll never learn," said John to Mark in a bored tone. The other nodded, and sure enough, the cannon ball also dissolved six inches from their bodies. "How did we miss that earlier, though?" he asked. "We only set out to destroy what we could see," said Matthew. "That must be it." The other two nodded. Suddenly, though, Matthew cried out and dropped to the floor, dead. "How?" asked Mark. "Nothing struck him." "The bond," said John. "Luke must have somehow been killed, and since no one can be A Thunder Boy, as we already knew, I guess when one part of a pair dies, both die." Across the room, they saw some of their comrades cradling Luke's dead body, a knife that looked like it could have been concealed in a boot stuck through his chest, blade in front, hilt in his back. "They can be killed," shouted Colt. "Men. . ." But that was as far as he got. The death of two of their own caused all of the remaining Thunder Boys to erupt with such an explosion of Thunderbolts and lightning strikes that in seconds, not one conventioneer remaining in the tent was anything more than a pile of smoldering ashes. Moments later, twin bolts of lightning engulfed the still bodies of Luke and Matthew, and when the lightning faded, not even ashes remained. of their dead companions "I guess that's what happens when Thunder Boys die," said Mark, weeping openly. "When we brought them into this. . ." "It could just as easily have been us, Mark," said John. "There are always risks when you fight for what is right, not that this does not upset me too, it certainly does." All present grieved the dead in their own way, but all silently vowed that Matthew and Luke would not have died for nothing. "Now," said Mark. "I think we've made our point here." All nodded, then waved both hands and a bolt of lightning engulfed each pair and when it cleared, they were gone. Moments after the last pair departed, there was the loudest clap of thunder yet and the convention center itself exploded and moments later was nothing but a smoldering pile of ashes. CHAPTER FOUR: OF GUNS AND GAYS "Jacob!," cried Lauren. "Stop looking at me that way. I"M NOT GAY!" Jacob sighed. He knew this, of course, but his best friend was just SO HOT, he couldn't help it. "I'm going out on a date with Francine, my GIRL-friend," said Lauren. "We'll talk later." Before Jacob could say a word, Lauren stood and the door slammed. "Not that there is anything to talk about," Jacob sighed. "I've got a crush on my best friend that he's incapable of returning." This had been going on for a year now, even though Jacob had only mentioned it to Lauren four months or so back. 'What am I supposed to do?" he shouted at the world in general. "He makes my stomach do cartwheels and my hormones go into overdrive, but he's incapable of returning any of those feelings." 'If you can not control your unnatural urges', the voice of his Priest echoed in his head. 'You should kill yourself. You'll burn in Hell either way.' Jacob sighed again. The time had come. This burden was too much to bare. He typed his parents a note and set it to go to them on a delayed email, when it would be too late to stop him. Then he pulled his revolver out of its drawer, got in his car and drove to the park. It was a night of lights and noise from all over the skies, as if God or the gods were setting the mood for the Final Act before his curtain fell. He walked to the edge of the cliff. Even if the bullet missed something vital, the impact would send him tumbling down the thousand foot drop, and he wanted to be sure. He lifted the gun towards his temple, saying a prayer begging forgiveness for everything, he wasn't even sure who he believed to, as he did so. His finger touched the trigger.. . Suddenly, there was a clap of thunder right in front of him, and a moment later the gun was gone, seeming to have dissolved into thin air. Looking around in surprise and he wasn't sure if it was relief or regret, he saw two young men with by far the biggest noses that he had ever seen, each less than an inch less than the width of their faces, standing there. "That was not a very smart or moral thing which you were about to do, boy," said one of the men. "It was not your decision to make for me!" shouted Jacob, suddenly angry. "I've had a crush on my best friend for a year, he's straight and our friendship is about to end. My priest said that I should kill myself if I couldn't control my unnatural urges. I've tried, and I CAN NOT CONTROL THEM. So this is my only option. My only way out." "What if we offered you another way out," said the slightly older seeming young man. "A place, in this life, where you will never be judged for who or what you can not help being." “I'd say you were completely delusional," said Jacob. "Who are you, anyway?" "I'm Samuel," said the older looking boy. He pointed at the other. "This is David-Jesse. We're members of a group of people known as The Thunder Boys, and our mission is to wipe out gun violence and homophobia. As you saw, firearms are of no consequence to us." "We'll see about that," shouted a familiar female voice from behind. Looking up, Jacob saw Lauren's girl-friend, Francine, pointing an assault rifle at all three of them. He screamed and dropped to the ground, but Samuel and David-Jesse just looked bored and sighed. Francine fired, but nothing happened, neither of the so-called Thunder Boys reacted at all, and Jacob could not figure out what had happened to the bullets. "Thunder Boys can not be harmed by bullets," said David-Jesse, turning to face Lauren and Francine. "And. . ." he gave a casual wave of one hand, there was a great clap of thunder, and the gun dissolved right in her hands. "You can see of how much consequence to us firearms themselves are as well. I suggest you stop troubling this poor boy, before we show you what else we are capable of." Lauren and Francine didn't need telling twice. Jacob heard their retreating feet moments later, having closed his eyes with the last flash of lightning. Then he opened his eyes and gaped at the two. "That was amazing," he said. "I guess life is worth living, after all. And maybe there is such a place as you described earlier." A sudden flash of excitement raced through him. "Can you make me a Thunder Boy too." His heart sank at their very looks. "Unfortunately not," said Samuel. "You are a male, your nose is eighty percent of the width of your face, and you are strictly gay. But you are under twenty-five, and you are not part of a committed gay couple, essential because no one can be A Thunder Boy, people can only be Thunder Boys." "I see," said Jacob in a dejected tone. "Then. . ." Samuel seized Jacob's chin and lifted it up. "But we can take you to a place you will never be judged. Our headquarters, The Fortress of Thunder." "What about my family?" asked Jacob. "It's not a prison," said David-Jesse. "You can come and go as you wish. But it is a place where people like us can at least get a rest from people like those two." Jacob only needed a moment's thought, then his face creased with the biggest smile it had had in four years, since he had figured out that he was gay. "You're on," he said. "How do we get there?" "Like this," said both of the older "Boys" together. They high fived each other with both hands, there was a clap of thunder and then the cliff was empty. TUNE IN NEXT TIME TO LEARN MORE ABOUT THE FORTRESS OF THUNDER. CHAPTER FIVE: THE FORTRESS OF THUNDER, A SHORT REST With a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder so bright and so loud for a moment Jacob thought he had gone blind and deaf, he, David-Jesse and Samuel stepped out of the three lightning bolts into a vast cavernous room with lightning bolts painted in what seemed like light itself all around. The older boys laughed at Jacob's open-mouthed and wide-eyed appraisal of his new surroundings. "Impressive, isn't it?" said David-Jesse. "How did you pay for all of this?" asked the younger boy in wonder. Samuel and David-Jesse exchanged an awkward glance. "This doesn't exactly work like that," David-Jesse finally said. "This is not a place that can be reached or even seen from the outside by anyone other than Thunder Boys and those we choose to invite, and it is not even possible for a heterosexual to enter even under those circumstances. Bisexuals CAN, but it's a bit tricky. . ." "David-Jesse, Samuel," said a welcoming voice. "Welcome back. A new member?" Jacob looked up to see another young man approaching, and when he got a good look at the other's nasal apparatus, he did a double take. "I see you like my snout," said the newcomer. "It and the rest of me are spoken for, of course, though." He looked at Samuel and David-Jesse. "Where's the other?" "Jacob isn't exactly a new member, Nathaniel," said David-Jesse. "He does have the required nasal size, he is obviously male and he is strictly gay, but he's under twenty-five and the only guy he looks at on a regular basis is his heterosexual best friend. Since the same was about to waste him for it, though, we brought him here for some rest from homophobia." Nathaniel looked uncertain for a moment, then smiled and bowed in greeting. "Well then, welcome Jacob. I assure you, no one here will judge you for who you are. We have food, beds, anything you could wish. You can stay as long as you like, and even when you leave, just say one of our names and then The Thunder Boy, and we'll bring you back here in a heart beat." "Thank you," said Jacob, finally finding his voice again. "So, um. . . maybe some dinner with people who will only stare at me because they like what they see, a hot shower and then a bed under a roof with no homophobes?" "That can be arranged," said a new voice. Jacob looked up and this time did a quadruple take. This "Boy"'s, he couldn't call it anything smaller than a snout, was one-hundred percent of the width of his face, giving Jacob such a strong erection he thought he might need to find a bathroom before dinner. There was something not quite right about the young man's appearance, however, although he couldn't quite put his finger on what. Judging by the way the others looked at him, though, Jacob felt he was not the only one who had this impression. "Matthew!" all three of the others cried with a mix of surprise and joy. "We thought you were dead." "I am," replied Matthew. "Outside of these walls, but Luke and I are still alive within them. We're not exactly ghosts, but beyond that is unclear even to us, at least as yet. The Fortress of Thunder could only come into existence after the first pair of Thunder Boys to die had in fact died." Matthew glanced at Jacob. "Just go ahead and pull down your pants and undershorts and masturbate right here. I understand the hormonal response my enormous snout generates. These walls will absorb all of the mess. The bathrooms are just for other business." Jacob barely needed to touch his penis to start ejaculating, so great was the erection Matthew's "Enormous Snout" as Matthew himself had named it, generated within him. He ejaculated for a solid three whole minutes, maybe more, but when he was done, instantly the mess on his penis was gone, and all of the semen had vanished the moment it broke contact with his penis. "I wouldn't mention this to Luke, if I were you," whispered Matthew in his ear. "He tends to be the jealous type, and absolutely NEVER call me Matt, because that is something that he is quite insistent that only he calls me." "So?" asked Jacob, nodding in acknowledgement. "So this place. . .?" he trailed off, clearly uncertain how to proceed. "It's a refuge," said Matthew. "Live people can enter and leave as they wish. When the time comes to take stronger action against the gun nuts and the homophobes, the training will be done here. But for now it is just a place of rest for people like us, gun reasonables and gays. The time for action is soon, although of course Luke and I will only be able to work from within these walls. But for now, in The Fortress of Thunder, we can all have a short rest." Then Matthew gestured and a huge dining room full of other "Boys" with friendly smiles appeared at the far end of the room, luxurious bathrooms to the left and luxurious bedrooms to the right. "Yes," said Jacob. "I will stay here for a while, maybe forever." After the best really hot shower he had ever had, he got dressed in totally fresh clothes, enjoyed a wonderful meal, food and conversation wise, then lay down in a bed that he was certain for the first time in a long time no one had a problem with him being in. "Yes," he said as he drifted off. "In The Fortress of Thunder, I will at least have a short rest." CHAPTER SIX: HEAR THE THUNDER The Fortress of Thunder was full of activity that night and for many other nights following. Finally, they settled on a plan. "We'll monitor the mission from here," said Matthew with a laugh. "As if we had a choice," Luke finished with a mirthful but a hint of bitterness laugh. Mark nodded. "I am sorry about. . ." Both waved aside his apologies. "If we hadn't died, we wouldn't have this headquarters," Matthew pointed out. The others all nodded, then each pair joined hands and gave a wave of their free hands, causing a lightning bolt to engulf them and when each was gone, so were they. "Well Matt," said Luke, turning to his beloved. "It is nice to have living company, but it is also nice to be alone again at last." "Except for the actual "boy"" Matt pointed out, since he was staying there in safety for a long time, he had hinted probably permanently, since no one judged him there for being who he was made to be but he was too young to be an actual Thunder Boy and single besides. "Yes," said Luke. "But he said he was going to sleep a while, and his bedroom is at the far end of the fortress." "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting, Luke?" asked Matt. "Only what you already were, Matt," Luke pointed out. Matt smiled, then unbuckled Luke's belt and pants as Luke unbuckled his. "Stick it up my snout, Luke," said Matt. "My nostrils are big enough even for yours, even erect." The moment Luke's very large penis started ejaculating up Matt's even larger right nostril, having started spraying even before he got there, but as they had told their guest, the walls absorbed it all, there was a tremendous clap of thunder, four times louder than either had ever heard before. * * * "What was that?" asked David-Jesse upon hearing it even from where he and Samuel were, halfway across the. . well, who knew really, how far from the fortress they were, since it was not exactly a geographic and physical place, that could be reached by ordinary means. "Matthew and Luke must be making love," said Samuel. "That is the only way that we could 'hear The Thunder' like that." "A sickening thought that," said a mean voice behind them. They both turned to see Michel Fredric, the most ultra right wing preacher there was, standing right there. "Your time of reckoning is at hand," he declared., pulling out a rifle and a whip. "No," said Paul and Tim behind him, riding in on their own Bolts of Thunder. "Your time of reckoning has come." Michel whirled, shooting at Samuel and David-Jesse and cracking his whip at Paul and Tim. The bullets dissolved before they even neared David-Jesse and Samuel, and Thunder Bolts from all four corners made quick work of the gun and the whip as well. "Hear THE THUNDER!" cried all four Thunder Boys. "Your time is over!" "God will punish. . .Michel began. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning that none of them had thrown, but which came from far above, from a completely blue sky, struck right where he stood, killing him and incinerating his body instantly, but leaving everything else green and intact. "I guess that's The Almighty saying that no one should presume to speak with God's actual voice," said David-Jesse. "I guess so," said Paul. "Next stop, The Republican National Convention." All four nodded, threw their bolts of Thunder after each couple joined hands, and vanished. * * * "Luke," said Matt. "You're going to have to move to my mouth, even my snout's enormous nostrils have had all they can take, both of them." Luke nodded and moved his exceptionally large penis, the ejaculation increasing as Matt's nostrils widened even more, growing to nearly twice the width of his face. 'How much do you have?" Matt asked wide eyed and mouth agape. "I ran out an hour ago." Luke smiled, said nothing, and intensified his ejaculation fourfold. STAY TUNED FOR THE CATACLYSM AT CONSERVATIVE CENTRAL, COMING SOON TO A THUNDER BOYS BLOG NEAR YOU. CHAPTER SEVEN: THE BOYS AND THE BULLETS 'Oh, yes!" cried Matt as Luke shot a huge ball of semen up his even more huge left nostril. The Thunder Bolt that followed was deafening. * * * "There's the signal," said Joshua. "Let's go!" Daniel nodded. "A kiss for luck first," he said, with which Joshua willingly obliged. Then they turned to face the GUNS, GUNS, GUNS AND MORE GUNS traveling show's tent displays. They raised their hands as if to high five and created their own clap of thunder, not nearly as loud as Matthew and Luke's, but loud enough to do the job. Instantly, six other pairs of Thunder Boys appeared. "Proceed as planned," Daniel told his companions. "Where are Thomas and Peter?" A moment later, two much smaller thunder bolts came and the two youngest Thunder Boys stepped from them. "Sorry," said Peter. "Tom and I each had some family business to take care of, so our powers weren't at full strength, being apart, so the summons took a moment to answer." The two 'Boys' joined hands for a moment and a ball of lightning formed between their palms. "There we are," said Thomas. "Back at full strength. Let's go." * * * "What kind of gun would you like, ma'am," said the dealer to the wild eyed woman who was looking shiftily around everywhere as if some all encompassing force were after her, saliva dripping from her mouth and making noises that sounded more like an elephant and sometimes a tiger's growl than anything that should be coming from a human mouth. "Something big and powerful," she said. "THEY'RE after me." "Who?" asked the dealer. She shrugged. "The government. The aliens. The wild beasts. My brothers children." "Why are your nieces and nephews after you?" he asked. "You know how two year olds can be,"she said. "Once they decide you need to die, they never give up." "Well," said the dealer, thinking a moment, but then deciding that it was none of his business. "If you'd like an M. . ." Suddenly, the clear blue high noon sky went pitch black. There were screams from all over, but then came a huge clap of thunder that turned into a voice. "Your attention please, Gun Lunatics. This death show has been permanently cancelled. The Thunder Boys are here to rid this place of those who think gun rights should trump life rights. Anyone who wishes to abide by this new reality has exactly one minute to vacate this location. Then the storm will break." * * * Many people did flee, although not as many as Joshua, Daniel and their companions had hoped. A moment after it was clear that all who were going to had fled, Thunder Rolled and lightning flashed all around, and The Thunder Boys appeared in a wide circle surrounding the encampment. "Fire," shouted one of the main organizers of the show. Daniel tuned to Joshua with a bored sigh. "They never learn, do they?" Joshua shook his head. "It seems not, Daniel. Although maybe they have not heard of us yet. Too bad for them." As they were talking, bullets and shrapnel flew at them and their companions from every direction inside their circle, but it all dissolved no less than six inches from anyone's body, and with the thunder bolts they all threw back much of it even farther away than that. "Bring the cannons," shouted someone else. Daniel and Joshua looked at each other. "Let's let them see what we have." The others nodded their agreement and all stood stock still as canons were pulled out, pointed in all directions, and loaded. "Blow them away," shouted several people from the show. Twelve canons were fired at once, but all twelve canon balls dissolved just like the bullets had. Then several pairs of Thunder Boys threw Thunder Bolts at the canons themselves, and they also dissolved, as did the guns people started to reload when the thunder bolts hit them. "Has anyone here seen enough?" asked Daniel. "If so, you are free to leave. For those who do not, this "show" is about to get a lot more interesting and frightening. You have thirty seconds to start walking for the door, and if you reach it, we'll know you mean it and will let you leave." A large portion of those who remained started running for the door. "Traitors and cowards!" cried the head of The Gun Nuts Board. He drew a knife and was clearly about to throw it at the back of one of his companions, but a quick Thunder Bolt from Thomas dissolved it too. Everyone remaining paled. "What is it you want?" someone finally asked. "An end to the thought that gun rights count more than life rights," said Peter. "To stop seeing events where people like that woman can get a fire arm. Let's have an NRA that teaches gun safety and is a shooting club again, like it was when it was founded, so I've heard. I'm only twenty-five, so I wasn't there. But let's have it stop being a hub for gun nuts. Let's. . ." Suddenly, he stopped as Thomas cried out as a fist struck his wind pipe. "That does it," said Joshua. "These walls are coming down." With that, all arms were raised and brought down, and the whole field exploded in flooding rain, roaring winds, lighting across the sky from and in all directions, and Thunder so loud it seemed to explode from all directions at once. Over the roar of destruction, Daniel shouted, "Let's get Thomas and Peter back to The Fortress of Thunder. The magic of the walls will heal them. Then next stop, The Republican National Convention." All couples joined hands, Daniel and Joshua also holding Thomas and Peter's hands together, all waved their conjoined hands to summon a bolt of thunder and shaft of lightning, and a moment later there was no sign of life at all left on the field. LOOK FOR, -WARRIORS OF THE STORM, THE CATASTROPHE AT CONSERVATIVE CENTRAL-, COMING SOON TO A BLOG NEAR YOU. CHAPTER EIGHT: POP GOES THE WEEZAL "And with that vote," said the reporter. "Open carry becomes the law of the land in all but three states." Matthew groaned. "As if there wasn't enough violence already." "Well," Luke pointed out. "Our agents are still working this thing." Matthew and their young guest Jacob nodded. * * * "Ah, you looked at my girl-friend the wrong way, buddy," shouted Clyde, the burly man with the smallest penis ever but a gun big enough to compensate for it and then some. "Now you're gonna die, Buddy. You should have seen the rocket launcher on my hip." "Actually Sir," said Samson. "I was looking at you." The man's face went from red to purple. "You're a fag. Well, now you're really gonna die. You should have seen the. . ." Suddenly, the man broke off and screamed as a bullet from another gun hit him. "There we go," said a woman. "You see, more guns do make us safer. I shot him before he shot you." "You shot my husband!" cried the woman who the man had thought Samson was looking at, reaching for his gun. "If you shoot her, I'll shoot you," cried another woman from somewhere nearby. "Then I'll shoot you," cried another voice. Suddenly, the sky grew dark, and then all around there were jagged lances of light and roars as loud as gun fire, but slower and far more rumbling. "NO one is going to shoot anyone more this day," rumbled an incredibly deep and incredibly loud voice within the continuing rumbles from the sky. "This ridiculous open carry from the Republican obsession with being anti Democrat even when the actions it prompts are INSANE ends now." "The Thunder Boys," whispered Samson in awe. "I'd heard rumors, but I thought that was all they were." "Fortunately for you, Samson," said the voice. "But unfortunately for most others here, you were wrong. We are real." Then, beams of lightning struck the ground itself, each accompanied by a deafening clap of Thunder, and out of each of the jagged flashes stepped a pair of young men with nostrils so large Samson felt his already rock solid penis start to ejaculate, right in his undershorts. "Well," said one of the two "Boys" from the first pair to emerge from the beams of light from the clouds. "It seems we have quite a mess to clean up here, Jonah." "Yes, Timothy, it certainly does." "Fire!" shouted someone from the crowd. "Oh come on," said another Thunder Boy in a bored tone. "Surely our legend has told you that much by now." "It would seem not," said his partner as the bullets began to fly. Samson watched in amazement and awe as every bullet, shrapnel and even, to his utter confusion, six or seven canon balls, all dissolved six inches from the bodies of all of The Thunder Boys and then they all made sweeping motions with both hands, he thought he would go deaf with the Thunder this roused, and every weapon in anyone's hands dissolved just as the "bullets" had. "Open carry is over," declared a "Boy" with nostrils that's width were One-Hundred Percent of the width of his face. "We will let one of you go, to spread that word. Samson, you will be protected. The rest of you must reap what you have sown; violence, suffering, and death." Samson suddenly found himself encased in a ball of lightning and saw the woman whose husband had thought he was looking at her flee the circle. Then, all of The Thunder Boys spread their hands towards each other. "Samson we send to The Fortress of Thunder. Next stop for the rest of us, The Republican National Convention." Samson saw the whole area explode in Thunder and lightning amidst screams of pain and cries for mercy as he flickered and felt his substance being drawn away. The last thing he saw before he was whisked away was all of The Thunder Boys swinging their hands down and then there was a great "pop" as they vanished and everyone within the storm was consumed by the lightning's fire and thunder's roar. "They were weasels," he muttered, thinking on the gun nuts that he had escaped. "And pop goes the weasel." * * * The next thing he knew, he was laying on a stone floor with three he assumed Thunder Boys, one with nostrils that slightly exceeded the width of his face, staring down at him. The two older ones, though, did not seem exactly solid. STAY TUNED FOR WARRIORS OF TH STORM: THE CATACLYSM AT CONSERVATIVE CENTRAL, AND TUNE IN NEXT WEEK FOR ANOTHER INTERMEDIATE ADVENTURE. CHAPTER NINE: THE DAY THE LIGHTNING STRUCK "'This is not about intolerance, it is about tolerance,'" echoed in Isaiah's mind as he approached the alter. "Funny," he said under his breath. "Sure doesn't feel like that, with my church about to behead me and Zach for being gay." He glanced at Zach, his boy-friend of three years, his face just as sorrowful but defiant as he himself felt. "The condemned will step forward," shouted the High Priest and executioner. "And place their heads on the blocks, since even the Prescription of Pain has failed to cast out the vile demons of the gay disease." Neither of the young men moved. They both knew that they could not stop what was about to happen, but they had agreed that they would NOT play along with it. "Drag them then," shouted the red faced man. Chains were thrown around both of their necks and they were dragged forward, resisting all that they could, but in vain. Isaiah saw Zach's head placed on one block and felt his own being placed on another. "Any last words of repentance before your executions," sneered The High Priest/Executioner. "Not that it will spare your lives at this point, but it could spare your souls." Both remained silent, having agreed to be defiant to the bitter end. He heard the ax swish up and. . . Then, suddenly, everything went black and then light exploded everywhere. Thunder and lighting roared and flashed within the room, and he felt the ax that had just begun to touch his skin suddenly gone. "They may not, but we have something to say," came a voice that seemed to be part of the Thunder. "I declare this sentence, this conviction and even this so-called court's authority null and void. This practice ends, NOW." "And who are you to make that call," shouted the High Priest and Executioner. "I serve The GOD of all creation. Are you greater than He?" "Of course not," came the instant reply. "But you seem to have forgotten that the greatest Commandments are to love Him and to love one another, not to kill one another because some are different." "Then who are you?" shouted a member of the Congregation, gathered to watch the event like the Citizens of Rome gathered to watch Christians being fed to lions at the arena. "The Thunder Boys," cried Zach. "They've come to rescue us." "And more, if you wish," said a different voice which belonged to a 'Boy' who stepped out of a lightning bolt just in front of them. "You both meet all of the requirements, so. . ." "I told you your nose was not too big, Zach," Isaiah teased. Then both nodded and joined hands and the new comer threw a bolt of lightning at them. "Now just a moment, here," said the High Priest. "You can not just come in here and interfere with our ritual." "That's funny," said the first voice. "I thought we just did, didn't you, Daniel?" "Yes, David," replied the Thunder Boy standing before them. "I certainly thought so. But maybe it's time for a little more persuasive actions." Suddenly, there were Thunder and Lightning Bolts all around, and out of each stepped a pair of Thunder Boys. "God hates gays," shouted the High Priest, and many in his congregation echoed him. "God is love, not hate," came David's voice as he finally materialized before them. When he did, all gasped. His nostrils extended to at least three times the width of his face which itself was not thin, and his immaculately clear skin seemed to glow slightly. David nodded, seeming satisfied with everyone's reaction to his appearance, and then all of The Thunder Boys, even Isaiah and Zach, raised both hands and brought them down, and the storm that exploded within the building was both blinding and deafening. Screams and cries for mercy rang out from all sides. Then David's Thunder Bolt voice came once more, "All who truly repent of this court's actions, touch my trunk and you will be able to leave unharmed. Everyone else, and this building, are beyond sparing." Many did come to touch David's trunk, and all of them vanished instantly, except for one other closeted gay couple who met all of the other requirements, who asked and were permitted to join the ranks of the Thunder Boys. But the High Priest and many others, along with the building itself, were consumed by the storm. When ti was all over, Isaiah and Zach looked around at everyone, and everyone looked around at each other and at them, and ten they all gave a great sigh. Then Isaiah felt a smile creasing his face, and then he started to laugh. Zach and some of the other younger looking 'Boys" joined him, and for a while they could not atop. Finally, though, David held up a hand and silence fell. "Yes, today has been a great victory, but the greater battle still lies ahead. Everyone touch some part of my trunk so that we all stick together in the tremendous Thunder Bolt we're about to summon. I can make it larger if necessary." After several minutes of wresting each other and a couple of slight increases in size, which David seemed able to do with no more than a wink, all of them were touching some part of his trunk, Isaiah and Zach having been allowed to be the closest, in fact David had insisted on it, and then each raised their free hand. "Next stop, The Republican National Convention," shouted David, and they all echoed him. Then he gave a great trumpet from his trunk, they all brought their hands down, a huge wall of Thunder and lightning engulfed them and then Isaiah could feel his body being whisked off the ground and into the wind, lightning and Thunder themselves. MEET THESE PEOPLE AGAIN IN 'WARRIORS OF THE STORM, THE CATACLYSM AT CONSERVATIVE CENTRAL', COMING SOON. CHAPTER TEN: ADAM AND STEVE I had waited a long time for this day. Steve and I had been together for ten years, but Gay Marriage had only become legal in Texas a few months earlier. Two minutes after the court ruling had come down, Steve had been on one knee before me. "Adam, will you marry me?" "Do you even need to ask?" I had replied, and then neither of us could stop laughing for an hour. His nose gets even bigger when he laughs, which turns me on even more than usual, and he has said that he feels the same about me and mine. The three intervening months of planning are a complete whirl in my mind as I stand at the back of the Sanctuary, with him at the front, preparing to walk down the isle. The decision as to whom would do which was made easy by the fact that my mother and father said that they would walk me down the isle while Steve's parents had said that they would have nothing to do with any of this, and I will not here repeat the language they used, so obviously they were not going to be a part of our lives "Until and unless they grow up," as my mom had put it. I could hear the protesters outside the church even as I stood, weak-kneed with joy but also a bit of dread mixed in, knowing that this will have a cost, my mom holding my left arm and my dad my right. I hear the music start to what we're calling "Here Comes The Groom." "It's time, Adam," my mom whispers. My dad and I nod and we start down the isle. My eyes are trained on Steve and his on me as our faces draw steadily nearer to each other until we all stand before the minister, Pastor Andrew. "Dearly Beloved," he begins. "We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of. . ." "You are gathered here together today to die!" screams a loud voice. Looking to the back of the church, I see a group of men in black clothes and black masks, carrying assault rifles trained on the five of us up front, but more of them on Steve and I than on Pastor Andrew or my parents. "Sir," says Pastor Andrew. "This is a church and a celebration of love and life. There is no place for hate or instruments of death. Please leave, NOW!" The tone of his "NOW" leaves no doubt that there will not be a please if he has to ask a second time. The gun people merely laugh and cock their triggers. But then . . . Suddenly, all the lights go out and the windows go dark. "What the hell," I hear the same voice say. "It's God's punishment coming down on this abomination," another shouts. "But why on us too, we're not. . ." He is cut off by a clap of Thunder so loud I hear it shatter several of the stained glass windows. "This is a judgement from above," says a voice like Thunder. "But not one rewarding your hate. One punishing it. This wedding will proceed and be completed. The only question is who will be alive for the 'I dos" and who will not." Suddenly, I hear a volley of gun fire, but all of the bullets sound like they stop in mid air and I do not hear a single scream. Then, lightning flashes all around the room and in each bolt I perceive a pair of young men, each with even bigger noses than Steve and I, all standing between the gun men and the rest of us, and all of the bullets dissolve before they come close to their bodies. "Are you finished?" says the voice that we heard before but I now see the face that goes with it and ejaculate right in my undershorts in a bored tone. His nostrils are a little wider than his whole face, which is not small, and all have a glow to them that makes it hard to look at directly. "Because," he continues, "as I said, this wedding is GOING to be completed, the only question is, will you all be alive to see it? And I warn you, The Patience of The Thunder Boys IS getting thin." We all gasp. Of course, I've heard the rumors, who hasn't? But rumors and reality are two very different things. Most of the gunmen give a dejected sigh, drop their weapons and either leave or sit down, although the leader pulls out another pistol and points it. "Really?" says the Thunder Boys' leader, sounding bored. All of the remaining gun men follow their leader, and the lead Thunder Boy turns to his partner. "Do you want to do the honors, Micah, or should I?" "I'll do them, Zacharia," he replies. Then Micah raises his left hand and brings it down in a single, swift, simple motion. Instantly, a powerful thunder storm erupts just around the remaining gun men, and they scream as they are incinerated by the lightning, and then it ends, with not even smoldering ash remaining. "Now," says Zacharia. "We came here to see a wedding, so let's get on with it. When it's done, if you like, Adam and Steve, we'll make you two Thunder Boys." I see in Steve's eyes that he is just as anxious for this as I, so after the vows and rings have been exchanged, we stand holding each other , and Zacharia and Micah shoot us with a combined Thunder Bolt that engulfs us both. When it clears, while neither of us look any different, I can feel it inside and can see in Steve's eyes that he can as well. "Now for the reception," says my dad. All of The Thunder Boys and every other guest nod. "Once the celebrating is concluded," says a different Thunder Boy, whose name I have not caught but whose nostrils are just shy of the size of Zachariah's, stopping at the outer edges of his face. "Next stop, The Republican National Convention." All of The Thunder Boys, including Steve and I, the newest Thunder Boys, nod, jitters rising up strongly in me at the prospect of traveling the way they travel. * * * At The Fortress of Thunder, Matthew roared as Luke shot buckets of semen up both nostrils of his trunk and he began doing the same up Luke's snout. "We're close," said Matthew, and Luke nodded. "Soon" he said. "With a wedding completed and other recent events, it is very soon." Then they went on with their love making and spoke no more for some time. LOOK FOR 'WARRIORS OF THE STORM, THE CATACLYSM AT CONSERVATIVE CENTRAL' COMING SOON TO A THUNDER BOYS BLOG NEAR YOU. CHAPTER ELEVEN: THE SHCOK-ING TRUTH The screams from the darkened house could be heard for miles. They had started out sounding human, but now they were not even almost human, they were like the cries of a wild animal caught in a hunter's snare. * * * "Not an entirely inaccurate comparison," thought Joseph as he crouched, buck naked and chained by both hands and both feet to the floor, staring at Abraham. He knew he would pay for it, but gazing at his lover's perfect nose, eyes, cheeks, mouth and beard, he could not stop the erection from starting to form. Sure enough, five hundred volts of electricity shot into his penis and from there through his body. "That's what you get, Dog," cried Noah Hamalton. "Stop these evil urges, and this will end. Another. . ." Joseph saw the agony in Abraham's eyes, but since they had started the torture by shocking his tongue after they caught him sucking Joseph's penis when they came to 'arrest' them, he was not able to speak at the moment, and would very likely never speak again. 'Especially if they kill us,' Joseph thought darkly under his breath. This did seem a very real possibility to him at this point. "No looking away, dogs," shouted Noah. "You will keep staring at each other, night and day, and keep getting shocked each time you start to get an erection, until you stop getting erections from each other's faces." Both young men gave a howl like a wounded wolf, and received a shock for this too. “Just kill us already," Abraham begged, and Joseph found that he could no longer disagree. But Noah merely laughed, a mean, cruel, hateful and mirthless laugh. "No, no, no. You can not be killed until you have been purified, and that can only happen when you renounce your evil choice." "It is NOT a choice, you, stupid, ignorant man," I say, drawing another shock, but determined to say what I have to say anyway, this time. "If it was a choice, do you think either of us would CHOOSE this? Why can't you people just live and let live? I thought that is what Conservatism was all about, each person deciding what was right for them. So, how come with sexual orientation it is different?" I can see in his eyes that the shock he wants to give me now, I would not survive, but he is trying to decide if that serves his larger purpose. * * * Suddenly, the sky goes pitch black. Moments later, Thunder erupts near us and out of the lightning bolts that follow step seven pairs of really gorgeous guys, although obviously nothing on Abraham. One raises his hand at Noah and Thunder flies from it followed by a scream from Noah and a shock of electricity from his hand flies back at him, causing him to cry out, die and then explode. One of The Thunder Boys turns towards me. "I take it you know who we are?" he says, smiling so that his nostrils, already the width of his face, slightly exceed it, sending my hormones into all kinds of flips and other athletic events. I nod. "The Thunder Boys," I say at once. He nods. "Correct. My name is Daniel. Dan, to most people. My partner is Joel. We will take you to The Fortress of Thunder to be cured of all of this nonsense. And then. . ." "Can we join your ranks?" Abraham beats me to the impulsive question. Dan turns to his printer. "I don't know Joel. Do you think their noses are big enough?" I am shocked, since Abraham's nostrils are the width of his face and mine slightly exceed the width of my face. "We have both got. . ." I start, then I see that Dan is laughing. "I was only joking. You obviously both far exceed the eighty percent minimum, and your obviously a committed gay couple. How old are you both?" "Both twenty-five, as of four and five days ago." "Then yes," says Dan. "You both made the minimum age cut by a few days. Once you're healed, Matthew and Luke, we'll explain when we're in a more secure location, will send you to where we are. But now, get ready." Abraham and I grab each other as the Thunderbolt from Dan's left hand flies towards us. It engulfs us, and instantly I feel power flowing through me. Then they all make Thunder Bolts and suddenly I feel my body projecting forward until I start to see the walls of a tower materializing on each side and watch and listen. Suddenly, we fall face first onto a hard stone floor, painfully scraping my face, but instantly feel it and everything else start to heal. There is a loud scream of pleasure from somewhere else "Matthew and Luke" says Dan, and then he and the other Thunder Boys ride away on bolts of Thunder, while Abraham and I start to explore this fortress, particularly interested in finding Matthew and Luke and the other dead ones Dan told us about and seeing about all of that. "I've been waiting a long time to be in a safe place and from now on," Abraham says as we explore the fortress and choose our one safe place. I nod as we come to our bed chamber, strip, get in bed and then prepare to finish what we stated a short time ago. LEARN MORE ABOIUT THE OTHER THUNDER BOYS IN -WARRIORS OF THE STORM, THE CATACLYSM AT CONSERVATIVE CENTRAL-, COMING SOON. CHAPTER TWELVE: THE GREAT STORM NEARS At The Fortress of Thunder, Matthew roared as Luke shot semen canon balls up both nostrils of his trunk, almost simultaneously, and he shot semen all around the room, occasionally hitting Luke's face, but of course when it missed Luke's face, it all dissolved before staining the walls. "The time draws near, Luke" said Matt, and Luke nodded. "Indeed it does, Matt. Let The Thunder Roll as the next fight begins." Both roared as they continued to shoot semen at, into and around each other, and The Thunder Clap that started in their room but emanated from there to the outside walls and then exploded from The Fortress Of Thunder was louder than any other that there had yet been. * * * The mood was tense that year at The Texas Republican State Convention. "Do not push this item forward," pleaded dozens of gay members and their supporters. "We can not help being who and what God made us to be. Besides, you know the rumors. . ." "Rumors, nothing more," said Patricia Daniels. "And HOW DARE you suggest that God would make something as corrupt and vile as you. Now, if you are finished with your whining, I will call the roll on this matter, and we shall see." "The Trenton county delegation votes aye," their representative said. "The Travis county delegation votes nay. . ." And so it went, as predicted. The delegations from districts which typically trended blue went nay, and the delegations from districts which trended red, which was the majority, went aye. "The motion is adopted," proclaimed Daniels. "The Official Texas Republican Party Platform endorses the use of Corrective, Conversion Therapy, including, but not limited to, shock therapy, food and even water deprivation, and even torture, to convert or, to use a better and more accurate term, correct queers and fags, crookeds in short, into straights, which is, by the way, what God created and intended everyone to be. Your choices must be corrected, or punished. Those that refuse to change will be shot." Even some that had voted for the measure gasped in surprise at this, but the majority did not. "Now, with other business. . ." "Wait just a minute here," said someone from the group of gays. "Even if you're going to refuse to see reason about the just being gay matter, murder is murder, PERIOD." "Maybe so," shouted Ferdinand Philipie. "But you are the ones who are devoted to murdering your own souls, not to mention the innocence of young, impressionable teenagers, particularly teenage boys. . ." That was more than one of these could take. "I'm a teenage boy, you stupid, backwards. . ." he struggled for words to express his impression, then gave up and went on. "No one influenced me into being gay, I just happen to be turned on by other teenage boys and not by teenage girls. No one influenced my penis into having erections with other boys and not with girls, it just does. . ." "Enough," said Patricia Daniels, turning off all microphones but her own. "The motion has been adopted. Accept it and be quiet, or leave." They all sat down, for while this action had turned their blood into fire, they did not want to miss any other horrible thing that was about to happen. "The next item on the agenda is to allow convicted felons, including those convicted of very violent crimes, even murder, if they are legitimately released from prison, to carry firearms. Accompanying this, if anyone shoots a fag with such weapons, even fatally, there shall be no punishment at all, not even an arrest." She cast a warning glance at those who started to stand and open their mouths at this, and they sat back down and closed their mouths. "Any discussion, other than from tHe Peanut Gallery, I mean." She waited a few minutes, then went on. "Hearing none, I now call the roll. . ." Predictably, this motion carried along the same lines as the other. "The motion is adopt.. ." Just then, her mic went dead, and all the lights in the hall went out. Then came a clap of Thunder and a voice rode in on the Thunder. "You were warned." Then, Thunder erupted all around the hall, accompanied by "Boys" riding in on bolts of lightning. "I think we can just start with the show, right off the bat, don't you, Thomas?" said one of The Thunder Boys to his partner. "I think so, Phillip," Thomas nodded. "They have already had fair warning, including this morning." Then he shouted. "OK, Boys, Storm Protocol Two, Right now." Before anyone there could do anything further than lay their hand on their holster,all of the Boys raised their hands and brought them down with a great thrust, and claps of Thunder hit every section of the hall, and after each clap of Thunder, the people in that section gasped as their firearms dissolved before their eyes. Nor was it limited to firearms. All weapons, even the pebble someone had picked up intending to throw at Thomas and Philip, did the same. "Any further. . . discussion?" said a different Thunder Boy. He looked around, his slightly wider than his face nostrils inhaling sharply, as if to sniff out any further trouble. "Hearing none, both of these motions are abolished, and I would strongly recommend against taking either of them up again. Any gay couples here who want to get on the right side of history and join our fight, we'll be outside for a few minutes. Otherwise, we'll see some of you in August, although I would suggest you not pursue these items there either, and encourage others to follow suit. Next stop, The Republican National Convention." They started to summon the The Thunder, when one of the convention attenders called out, "You're not going to kill any of us?" "No," said Thomas. "You are more useful to our causes as witnesses to what just happened, and dead people do not make very good witnesses. But remember what happened here today. At the National Convention, if you are still endorsing these policies, we might not be in such a forgiving mood." Then, they all brought their hands down, there were claps of Thunder everywhere, and they were gone. A few moments later, so were the majority of the gay people who had been in the gallery. ** * * At The Fortress of Thunder, Matt and Luke roared as canon balls of semen erupted from both of their penises in all directions, including up Matt's trunk and Luke's enormous snout, but all over the rest of each other and everywhere else in the room as well. From the other room, they heard their younger friends, who had not been able to be cured of their wounds at the Fortress before succumbing to them and so now shared this place and this job with them, occupied in a similar manner. "I'm sorry they couldn't be saved," said Matt. "But two THUNDER GENERATORS does make those who are still alive even stronger." Luke nodded, but his only verbal communication, besides his continued roaring, was a single word. "SOON!" * * * WARRIORS OF THE STORM, THE CATACLYSM AT CONSERVATIVE CENTRAL, is not far off. CHAPTER THIRTEEN: THUNDER BOYS ARE LOOSE Matt roared as Luke shot even larger canon balls of semen up his trunk and Luke did the same as Matt shot semen up each of his large nostrils. Thomas and Peter were similarly occupied, as were the still living Joshua and Abraham. Samson sat masturbating near by. Suddenly, a roar like never before escaped all seven at once, and the Thunder Clap that then issued from The Fortress of Thunder echoed around the entire planet. * * * John and Mark heard the clap of Thunder, along with all of their team. "That's the semi final signal," said John. Mark and the rest of their group nodded. "We know what to do now then," said Mark. They all called down their Thunder Bolts and rode them towards their next to last stop. * * * The security that year at the Canons For The Common Man show was the tightest that it had e ever been. "Well, with these vigilantes that seem to somehow be able to control even the weather out there, it has to be," said The President of The I'll Blow Your Brains Out If You Cross Me" club. His fellow gun nuts nodded. "Our first speaker," announced the MC, Nuton Case. "Will be from the paramilitary group Bombs Are For Everyone. Welcome, Mr. Braidy." "Thank you, Nuton. But it is just Jimmy," said the man, taking the stage. "My fellow fire arm freedom lovers, our nation faces many problems, but if everyone could just have their own personal canons, they would al be solved. Therefore. . ..oh, no, not here, not now. I thought security. . ." Everyone knew at once what he was talking about, for claps of Thunder so loud they seemed to be inside the building itself had begun. Then, his mic went dead and all of the lights went out. "You fools," boomed a voice within a long clap of Thunder. "Did you really think mere rifle armed guards could stop us. Go ahead," the voice said as one person reached for the canon trigger near her. "You'll learn what many already have. Firearms can not harm us." In spite of the warning, however, in the next moment, canons were firing and canon balls flying in all directions. Guards came in with machine guns blazing, and everyone not near a canon pulled out their personal firearms and began firing. The only screams, however, were from fellow gun nuts who got caught in the cross fire. Then, when everyone had shot themselves empty and were reloading, the lightning bolts came and with them The Thunder Boys became visible. "Kill them all, gun sissies and faggots, the lot of them," shouted someone from the crowd. "Bullets are no good, but knives and stones can. . ." suddenly, the man stopped and cried out as a Thunder Bolt hit him and he burst into flame. "Wrong move," said another. "He was our leader." Suddenly, knives and rocks were out and flying everywhere, although most The Thunder Boys destroyed with the Thunder Bolts thrown from their hands before they could do harm. The Thunder Boys fought back with their own weapons, and for awhile the battle was evenly matched. But, of course, the supply of knives and even rocks was not unlimited, while the Thunder Bolts were. Eventually, the advance began in earnest, pushing the gun nuts and homophobes until their backs were right up against the wall. "Let the word go forth from this day forward," shouted John. "The Thunder Boys are loose, and the gun nuts and homophobes will. . ." Suddenly, he stopped and screamed as a flying stone took Mark's head clean off. An instant later, the remains of both vanished in a clap of Thunder and lightning. That was the end of the battle for all of the gun nuts there, though,for all of the remaining Thunder Boys exploded in such fits of rage that every bone and every stone in the place caught fire. "We are definitely ready now," said Job. All nodded. "Next stop, tomorrow's opening of The Republican National Convention!" they all shouted, then vanished in The Thunder Bolts they then called down as the building exploded and then collapsed in a pile of rubble. * * * "Welcome home," said Matthew as John and Mark appeared in the chamber within The Fortress of THunder. "Thank you," said John. "We always kind of knew this was where we would be for The Final Battle," said Mark. "Since we were the first and founding members of this order." All nodded as John and Mark began their love making, Matthew and Luke as well as Thomas and Peter went back to theirs, and Sampson went back to his masturbating. NEXT TIME, -WARRIORS OF THE STORM, THE CATACLYSM AT CONSERVATIVE CENTRAL-. CHAPTER FOURTEEN: When THE BOY Smiles Matthew felt Luke's canon balls, bombs and missiles of semen flying up his ever expanding nostrils, even as the same sperm projectiles flew from his penis up both nostrils of Luke's enormous snout which was rapidly moving towards a trunk, although nowhere near the size of his trunk. By now, Matthew's nostrils were practically folded halfway around the side walls of the chamber they were in. But even as John and Mark and Paul and David and Joshua and Peter and Adam and Steve and the rest of the "dead" Thunder Boys made love to each other and the true 'boy' Samson masturbated like there was no tomorrow ('which', he reflected, 'perhaps there was not'), semen flying up nostrils, into mouths and everywhere else and Samson's all around the room, all eyes were fixed, expectantly, on him. John and Mark had told him that since his trunk was by far the largest nasal apparatus that any of them possessed, The Law of The Thunder Bolt said that he must be the leader of all of The Thunder Boys, inside The Fortress of Thunder, in other words dead, and outside The Fortress of Thunder, in other words still alive. Samson was of course still alive, but since he lacked both the nasal width and the minimum age to be a Thunder Boy, plus he had no one to pair with, he was staying there for protection from homophobes but was not one who could be in the field, although he was also doing what he could to help from within The Fortress of Thunder, since the more semen flew inside it, the stronger those outside it became. John and Mark had also said that this Law of The Thunder Bolt dictated that the leader of The Thunder Boys be known simply as The Boy. Matthew had at first been reluctant to accept this calling, but when he could see that ALL of his fellow Thunder Boys embraced it and seemed quite set upon it, he at last did the same, albeit still with some trepidation and reluctance. "Matt," said Luke, seeming to read his thoughts, as he so often had since long before they became the second pair of Thunder Boys as the storm had grown. "I know this is not all as you or we had planned, even once we became Thunder Boys, but this is your destiny, and I at least certainly believe in you." Matt nodded. "Thank you, Luke. And you are correct, whether I like it or not, this is clearly the role that I was always meant to play." He hesitated a long time then, hating what he knew he must say next, but knowing that it must be said nevertheless. Finally he took a very deep breath. "That being said, at least while we are among our fellows, you had better start simply calling me The Boy, although if we are ever alone together again, I would certainly then still prefer Matt." Luke nodded. "You're right, The Boy. So, The Boy, all eyes are on us, mostly you. So. . ." The Boy nodded. "Yes, and the time is near, but all of our army is not yet quite in place, so it is not quite time." Samson, semen flying from his penis in all directions as he alternately squeezed its tube and its tip, piped in. "You are the only one who will know, The Boy, so we'll await your signal." "Yes," interjected John. "Only the Trunk of The Boy can smell when all is ready. I apologize, I know both Mark and I have already said that at least a dozen times each, The Boy." "You just want to say 'The Boy' as many times as you can," laughed The Boy, his nostrils briefly almost reaching the far corners of both side walls. John blushed. "There could be some truth to that, The Boy." His face went even more scarlet. "All right, a lot of truth." The Thunder rolled and roared inside and outside the chamber and the rest of the fortress as the ejaculations from every penis intensified and increased to the size of small asteroids and the speed of shooting stars. Suddenly, Samson cried out in shock and pain, and all could see and feel why at once. What had just shot from his penis was not semen of any shape or size. It was a bolt of lightning. The same had shot from The Boy's penis into Luke's now smallish trunk and up his right and then left nostril, and he was certain from the gasps and cries that had followed Samson's almost instantly that everyone else had experienced the same. The Boy smiled so broadly that the nostrils of his trunk folded all the way along the side walls, across the back wall and met, touching each other, in the middle of it. "I guess we shall all know after all," said The Boy. "Let The Great Assault begin." He felt The Fortress of Thunder starting to move beneath him, and gave a mighty trumpet from his trunk and roar from his mouth, hearing his comrades snort with their snouts or at least exceptionally large noses and roar with their mouths. Luke's trunk also gave mighty trumpets, even as his mouth roared. Suddenly, though, Luke's and The Boy's trumpeting and their snorting and all of their roaring became mighty claps and tremendous rolls of Thunder. "Soon cleared shall be, all Republican Isles," Luke suddenly began to chant, as if in a trance. "When all can see, that at last, The Boy Smiles." "Yes," said The Boy, smiling even more broadly, causing the tips of his nostrils to cross, as Semen Lightning Bolts exploded not only in their chamber, but throughout The Fortress of Thunder, from The actual Thunder Boys and even from the walls. "And soon they must all face the full strength of all of us, all of The. . ." CHAPTER FIFTEEN: WARRIORS OF THE STORM, PART ONE: THE CATACLYSM AT CONSERVATIVE CENTRAL. Security at The Republican National Convention that year was the tightest that it had ever been. There were military and private security all around the grounds, flying fortresses in the air and even some measures taken underground. All to ensure that. . . “Those vigilantes will not be able to disrupt this meeting,” said Kane Lucifer Judas, Chair Person of The Republican National Committee. “Yes, Sir,” said his closet aid, Pilot Kyofus. “No one will disturb this gathering of good, Christian, family values, gun rights etc. . . .” He broke off as his boss held up a hand. “Everyone knows what we stand for. No need to recite the whole thing right now. The Official Speeches will begin soon enough.” As if on cue, there was a whoosh accompanying a huge jet of pure red flame leaping into the air. “It is time,” he said, stepping up to the microphone. “My friends and Comrades in Arms,” he began. “Our nation is at a crossroads, and Dark Forces threaten to take us down the wrong path, whether we wish it or not. I'm sure you are all aware of the seemingly super human group of extremists and vigilantes who call themselves The Thunder Boys, disrupting gatherings of those of us concerned with our Second Amendment, God Given 'Right' to Keep and Bare Arms and of those of us who still respect the laws of God and Nature regarding Romantic/Sexual Relationships. They may have won SOME small battles, but I assure you, we shall still win the war. And they shill not get in here, no matter what some may have heard them say at the end of their insignificant attacks. Our first Speaker, MRS. Jezibel. . .” Suddenly, everything went dark, and the mic died. “NO,” Kane cursed under his breath. “Not here. Not today. Our security. . .” Then came a roar of Thunder that spread around the entire planet and then returned and came together with a boom right above the top most spire of the dome of the convention center. “Your Security is nothing to us, The Thunder Boys,” came a deep voice that seemed to be words and a slow and low rumble of Thunder at the same time. “Our Powers can penetrate any of your silly machines and ordinary people. The Conservative Philosophy and The Republican Party, end today. You have hurt enough people with your gun and homophobic obsessions. But all of that is forever at an end. I, the leader of The Still Living Thunder Boys by virtue of my trunk, David-Jesse Son of Jacob declare it so!” “Guns away,” shouted Kane Lucifer Judas. “We know about that. Knives, spears, swords, rocks, fists, etc. out.” In the next instant, physical objects of all sorts were flying in all directions. But then, Bolts of Lightning flashed and claps of Thunder roared from all directions, as countless pairs of Thunder Boys came riding in on The Storm. “The Warriors of The Storm have all come together to end your way of thinking and political party once and for all,” announced the owner of the voice whom they had already heard, whose nostrils they now saw far exceeded the outer edges of his face, making it the largest nasal apparatus of any there, although Chairman Judas noticed that all of them had exceptionally large nostrils. His musings ended as a lightning bolt shot straight at him. “Fight!” he screamed at a group of young looking women running for the exit. “We didn't sign up to die,” one shouted back. “Well, then” said a different Thunder Boy materializing in front of them. “You should not have come to this gathering, because none of you are leaving this building alive.” “Right you are, Boaz,” said his partner. Both of them had VERY big noses, but neither's spanned the entire width of their face. “Let's do it, Andrew.” Suddenly, both Boys joined hands, raised them and then brought them down with unbelievable speed. Kane Lucifer Judas had no chance to consider more, for when the four hands finished their descent, a tremendous Thunder Storm erupted right around him and the fleeing women, and when the Thunder struck and the lightning flashed, he was dead even before his body began its incineration, as were the others. * * * David-Jesse trumpeted in triumph upon seeing the demise of The Republican Party Chair Person, then turned his attention back to his own battle against a group of canon firing and catapult shooting very large and burly men and women. “Your kind will never decisively defeat us,” cried one of the women. “Freaks of nature like you will burn in. . .where did you get such a ridiculously large nose, anyway.” “Being Thunder Boys has its benefits,” replied his partner, Samuel. “Among them, the ability to change our physiology as we see fit.” “Does it also help this!” said a nasty voice from the side. Suddenly, David-Jesse felt a large blade tear through the entire end of his left nostril. He turned and threw a huge Thunder Bolt at the attacker, incinerating him before he could even cry out, but he could tell that the blood loss from the left side of his trunk was too great to survive. He and Samuel gazed into each others eyes. Neither shed any tears, for both knew what was coming. Simultaneously, both cried out and fell to the ground. * * * Paul and Mathew saw their comrades fall and then their bodies be consumed by lightning and Thunder, and a mix of anger and anticipation filled Matthew's heart. “I guess your the leader now, Matt,” said Paul. “Your amazing snout is the biggest thing left. But we all know that now they will add to our strength.” Matt nodded. “You are right, Paul.” He threw a Thunder Bolt down his mouth to make his voice loud enough to lead. “All right, Boys,” he shouted. “Let's make them pay for that.” Suddenly, there was an explosion like a bomb across the room. Matt and Paul looked across to see several of the enemy lying dead but all of their comrades totally unscathed and looking bored. “They're never going to learn, are they, Matt?” asked Paul. “Well, it's too late for them to learn now. . .” Matt began when. . . “Matthew, Paul, duck,” cried Noah from across the room. Both ducked just in time to avoid a huge brick, which Moses, fighting back to back with James, made quick work of with a Thunderbolt from a one-handed wave. “Thanks Noah,” called Paul. “Phase Two,” called Mathew, and a roar of Thunder came up from the mouths of all of The Thunder Boys. * * * Within The Fortress of Thunder, David-Jesse and Samuel appeared in the chamber where The Boy and Luke, John and Mark and Peter and Thomas made love with such force that it had amazed them while they were still alive and the true boys, Samson and the younger Samuel, masturbated with similar vigger. “You know what to do,” ordered The Boy. “So start doing it. The more semen we put out, the more power they take in. You can stare at my trunk wrapped around the width of the room when Samuel is ejaculating up your somewhat smaller trunk David-Jesse and you are ejaculating up his snout.” “Large Snout,” Samuel said, as they both did as their leader had ordered. David-Jesse nodded. “Yes, Samuel, but now is not the time for injured pride.” His boy-friend nodded, and soon they were also sending semen flying up each other's nostrils, although David-Jesse continued to stare at The Boys's trunk every time his eyes left Samuel's face, which was not that often. As one f the “dead” Thunder Boys, the amount of semen the others could put out no longer amazed him, although what the two living boys were managing to shoot out did still seem impossible. As all of their semen flew up each others nostrils and the two younger boys' in all directions, Adam and Steve suddenly appeared in the room as well, and of course instantly began adding their own strength to the fight the still living Thunder Boys waged in the convention center. * * * “Why couldn't you have just let us be?” cried a woman whose name tag read Jezabel Satan, swinging a flaming torch at Abel and Jonah. “Let you be?” Jonah laughed, making his nose so big that Abel started ejaculating in his undershorts. “Who has been saying for decades that we should be thrown out of our churches, our homes, our families and either killed as who we are through corrective therapy or physically killed simply for being who nature made us to be?” “Abominations like you do not come from Nature or Nature's God,” screamed Jezabel. “What is Phase Two, anyway?” “This,” cried Jonah, and he sucked a huge breath into his mouth and then blew out of his enlarged snout, only it wasn't air that came out, it was Thunder and lightning. Jezabel screamed as Jonah's Thunder cracked her eardrums and lightning engulfed her body and as Abel pulled down his pants and ejaculated all over her. “Let me die,” she cried. “I'd rather be incinerated than feel a fag's seed all over my skin.” Moments later, her wish was granted, and soon all that remained was a pile of ash with some sperm flakes mixed in. Looking around, Jonah saw that the other pairs had done the same to those they had been battling, but still there were thousands of Republicans in the Convention Center, and all seemed determined to fight to the death. “Well,” said Abel, reading his mind. “We did say that none of them are leaving this place alive, so why wouldn't they fight to their dying breath? I'm sorry, I know you don't like me actually reading your mind, but under the circumstances. . .” Jonah silenced Abel with a quick kiss on the lips, then ducked as Jeremiah called out a warning and just missed getting hit by a huge spear. But it did penetrate Isaiah's left breast, and then he and Joshua cried out and moments later, Jonah knew, were at The Fortress of Thunder. He could even feel the increase in his own and Abel's power, and then they turned towards a man and woman attacking them together with swords, clubs and fire. “This flame will send you to the eternal flame where all of your kind will eventually go,” cried the woman. “Then you will stop destroying families and robbing this country of its founding family values.” “That tired old line again,” Jonah began, when he heard Matthew shouting new orders. * * * “Loose the True Thunder!” cried Matthew. Then all pulled down their pants and simultaneously squeezed their penises, blew outward through their mouths and blew outward through both nostrils. Only it was not semen or mucus or spit or ordinary air that escaped from the holes. Lightning shot from every penis and Thunder and Lightning from every exceptionally large nostril and every mouth. At that moment, a huge building surrounded by Thunder and ringed with Lightning began to flicker in some of the brightest flashes of lightning. “It's almost finished, Matt,” whispered Paul. “Now that The Fortress of Thunder itself has started to come into the physical realm.” Matthew smiled, but it did not feel whole-hearted. “Yes,” he said. “That is the signal of the beginning of the Final Phase, but remember what The Boy told us, the final phase will be the most difficult, the longest, not even finished in a single day, and the most costly in lives, albeit any who die make those of us who are left stronger. I feel that I do now have the strength to fight on as long as it takes, but let us not declare victory until the enemy is no more.” Suddenly, Matthew felt his nostrils starting to grow, and knew that the next sign that The Boy had given them was beginning to occur. “'Only for the current living leader,'” he remembered The Boy saying. Well, he knew that that was him, now. “What next, Matt?” Paul asked, knowing what this sign meant but also knowing that only the one to whom this sign happened held the knowledge of what came next. “Next,” said Matt, smiling as he felt his nostrils exceed the width of his face and the storm brewing inside him. “We release The Storm.” * * * HERE ENDS WARRIORS OF THE STORM, PART ONE: THE CATACLYSM AT CONSERVATIVE CENTRAL. PART TWO WILL CONTINUE THE STORY. CHAPTER SIXTEEN: WARRIORS OF THE STORM, PART TWO: THE STORM RELEASED. “Now what are they going to do?” groaned Goliath Jericho. “This,” shouted Matthew, his nostrils now so wide that Paul could not see both ends of his trunk at once. With a smile he stuck both hands up his left nostril while Paul ejaculated up his right and pulled out a flashing and lightning colored stone. Then he held it up towards the sky and gave it a great squeeze. Suddenly, the sound of Thunder erupted from every inch of every single Thunder Boys' body. The ball flashed of lightning of every color in the rainbow and more, and the ground began to shake. “You won't get in from below as well,” sneered Philistine Pharaoh. “Our security down there is something not even you could anticipate or fight.” “Oh really?” said Matthew, raising a quizzical eyebrow. “You still think anything you do can stop us?” “Not what we do,” said Pharaoh. “But what we are. What those stationed there have become, I should say.” Matthew felt unconcerned. Everything these people tried would fail. Suddenly, though, he heard screams from below and the roar of some huge animal. “Our beasts will be harder to deal with than us. You are bullet proof, but you're not claw, fang and fire proof.” “You're basing your hopes for survival on myths and legends like dragons?” said Matthew, his nostrils so wide they were starting to turn in on themselves, seeming bored as he raised an eyebrow again. “No,” said Pharaoh. “We used science to turn some of our colleagues into real creatures of myths and legends “ “You turned your colleagues into monsters?” said Matthew, sounding horrified. “That's right,” said Pharaoh. “And even people like you are no match for that.” “Sorry to disappoint you,” said Matthew. “Well, no, actually I'm not. But in any case, it is time for you all to learn what releasing The Storm truly means.” He spread his arms as wide as they would go and caught the outer edges of each nostril in the corresponding hand, and all of his comrades took similar action. Then the still living Joshua waved his hand, a trumpet appeared in it and he set it to his lips as they all inhaled as much as they could and then. . . * * * Within The Fortress of Thunder, The Boy shot missiles of Semen up Luke's trunk width nostrils and Luke shot bombs of semen up his. . . was even 'trunk' an adequate word. Suddenly, he felt the sensation of lightning flying up his left nostril and saw Luke's shock at what he could feel had just emerged from his own penis. “They are about to truly release The Storm, then?” asked Mark. The Boy nodded. “It would seem so,” he said. “Matthew's trunk approaches the width of mine, and he has just absorbed The Storm into it.” He considered. “Is there any way we can give them even more power?” he asked. All were silent for a long time. Finally, Peter answered. “Not unless more of them die,” he said. “We're already all ejaculating as much, hard and fast as we can.” The Boy considered another moment. “Very well,” he said. “Then I will do the one thing that I and I alone can still do.” He saw the uncertainty in everyone's faces, even Luke's, gave them all a reassuring smile, then sucked all of the air he could into his super-sized trunk. He waited a moment, then gave such a trumpet from his trunk that were it not for the magic of The Fortress of Thunder, all of their eardrums would have been shattered. “There,” said The Boy. “That will be of aid to them.” * * * Matthew heard the trumpet from within the steadily increasing in solidity fortress as he finished inhaling, knowing that this would give them all the strength they needed for their actions ahead, and then heard Joshua's trumpet sound as he started to exhale. . . Suddenly, lighting flashed and Thunder rolled from every body, and then all of their bodies exploded in Thunder and lighting. Thunder Bolts struck the ground where each had stood, and lighting balls formed there for just a moment. While the convention attendees who were still alive wondered what had happened, Thunder suddenly rolled and lightning suddenly flashed right around many Republicans' bodies, and some even felt it coming awake within them. Matt's voice came from everywhere at once, although it sounded like words set to Thunder. “That is what truly releasing The Storm means. It means we free The Storm/ourselves from the restraints of physical bodies and become just The Storm itself. Now we are Truly Warriors of The Storm.” “Have mercy!” screamed a very burly man, starting to cry. “Did you have mercy on us?” asked Matt's voice. “Moments before we arrived, you were talking about rounding up Gays and shooting us like fish in a barrel. That is of course what actually was done to us for many years. Also, you have made certain for years that anyone who wanted a gun could get a gun, even people with extensive criminal and or mental health records. Yes, they could not at gun stores, but since they could at gun shows, that made no difference. Manipulating such people into shooting gays, once they had guns, was of course easy enough for those with your mind control skills, and if they said you made them do it, you could always just say that they are crazy and so why should anyone listen to them, because they obviously do not and indeed COULD not know what they are talking about? I ask you, if we, The Thunder Boys, did not exist and had not just appeared, would not this Convention have adopted the proposal to have all Gays shot, in pins or on sight, that was already under review by your National Committee?” “That is the second item on today's agenda,” said a very small man, dressed in devil red. “So?” said Matthew's Thunder Bolt from every direction voice. “You ask us to show you mercy, even as you are preparing to have our brothers and sisters of the Gay variety put to death?” “Show yourselves and you can join them,” shouted a woman with Bathsheba on her name tag. Moments later she screamed as The Thunder struck her from above, below and all around. “No mercy, NO PRISONERS!” shouted Matthew's voice. “You would have given us none, so you shall receive none from us.” The next time the lightning flashed, The Fortress of Thunder had ceased to appear as a hazy apparition, and instead had become a solid structure blocking the main exit. “The Fortress of Thunder is here,” came Matthew's voice. “It is time to . . . !” * * * Within The Fortress of Thunder, the younger Samuel and Sampson's masturbating increased in intensity and fierceness, as did the love making of every couple. “Harder, Faster, MORE!” shouted The Boy. “The Storm is released, and now The Thunder is about to Strike the ground and more. They need all of the strength we can give them, and since they now ARE The Storm, there shall be no more of them added to our numbers, for without physical bodies they can not be killed by physical weapons.” He felt Luke's penis pumping up the inner most part of his left nostril and pushing out missiles, canon balls and bombs of semen, and saw his fellow Thunder Boys doing the best they could, pumping as hard as they could, up each others' exceptionally large noses, snouts and one or two other trunks. He worked as hard as he could up Luke's now trunk, but still he sensed that the other Matthew, who now led the still living Thunder Boys, and all who followed him, needed more. He thought a moment, then gave Luke an inquisitive look, knowing what must happen, but still wanting his Boy-Friend's stamp of approval. HERE BACKWARDS Without hesitation, Luke nodded, not even needing The Boy to speak the words, so strong was their connection, as it had been since long before The Storm began. “Hey, Samson, Samuel,” called The Boy. Both looked up. “Yes, The Boy?” asked Samson. “Come over here and ejaculate up my right nostril,” said The Boy. “That's the only way we can give the others the power and strength they need to finish this.” Without hesitation, both true boys rose, continuing to ejaculate like mad, walked over and stuck both of their penises up his right nostril. As he felt equal amounts of semen flying up both nostrils, for Luke's ejaculations had as much power as the younger Samuel's and Samson's combined, The Boy smiled even more broadly. He felt his trunk folding in on itself even more and the ejaculations of all three up it intensify. All around, the ejaculations of everyone else did the same, as did his up Luke's smaller trunk. “The time to end this has come,” said The Boy. “Years, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes and even seconds of preparation have brought us to this point. All time that this needs to take has been taken. The time has come to. . .” HERE ENDS PART TWO OF WARRIORS OF THE STORM, THE STORM RELEASED. PART THREE, WHICH WILL CONCLUDE THIS STORY AND THIS SERIES, WILL BE COMING SOON. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: WARRIORS OF THE STORM, PART THREE LET THE THUNDER STRIKE! The Boy's trunk stretched even more as Luke's ejaculation doubled in intensity up his left nostril and Samson's and the younger Samuel's did the same up his right, and it trumpeted even more as he gave a roar with his mouth and both echoed throughout The Fortress of Thunder as he shot mountains of semen up Luke's trunk and all of the other couples did as close as their partners' nostrils could take up each other's. Roars and trumpets erupted from every mouth and every trunk, and snouts and extremely big noses did the best they could to imitate their companions' larger nostrils' sounds. “Let The Thunder Strike!” roared The Boy. “Let The Thunder strike!” Luke and the rest of them all echoed. The roars and trumpets and smaller nostrils' noises flew throughout The Fortress of Thunder, filling every room with its deafening boom and roar. Then it all flew through the huge double doors of The Fortress of Thunder and out into the convention center where the battle still raged between the still living Thunder Boys and the remaining forces of hate and violence. * * * “LET THE THUNDER STRIKE!” cried Matt's voice. “Joshua,blow your trumpet!” Suddenly, at the same moment, a huge trumpet blast emanated from the exact opposite side of the convention center as Matthew's voice, and Thunder roared louder than ever from all directions. Then the walls of the Convention Center named Jericho began to crumble and collapse inward. “ONE MORE TIME!” came the voice of The Boy from within The Fortress of Thunder and Matthew's voice from without simultaneously. People were trying to flee, but The Fortress of Thunder blocked the main exit and walls of lightning blocked all of the others. Gun shots and canon fire rang out, but to no avail. People threw rocks, spears, fists, and anything else they could find, but all in vain. Suddenly, the Thunder flew from The Fortress of Thunder and the hands of all of the still living Thunder Boys who suddenly reappeared totally surrounding the inside of the convention center. Then, all of The Thunder Bolts, roars, trumpets, snorts and other noises from within and without of The Fortress of Thunder came together and merged into a tremendous ball of Thunder right over the center of the arena and then flew straight downward. * * * The ball of Thunder struck the ground right at the center of the arena and then expanded outward, spreading over the whole of the ground and then up into the stands. All of The Thunder Boys raised both hands, gave the loudest exhalation they could with whatever size nasal apparatus they possessed, then vanished as a great boom rocked the whole of the arena and expanded outward far in every direction as blinding blasts of lightning flashed all around and the sound of a tremendous explosion rocked the land for miles in every direction. * * * When the light faded enough to see by, The Fortress of Thunder and all who had spent any time within it, living or dead, had vanished. Only a dark, huge in circumference and seemingly bottomless hole remained where the entire convention center of the 2016 Republican National Convention had stood.