NOTE:  This and all preceding and subsequent chapters
are copyright 1993 by Milford Ray Slabaugh.  All rights
reserved.  Permission is hereby granted to post this story
to other BBS'es, provided it bears this language.
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                      PLANET OF DESIRE

                          Chapter 6
                       "The Crazy Man"

     Ivan groaned, looked up with eyes strangely sticky, to
see a pink blob in front of him.  A white triangle appeared
on the pink oval, and Ivan realized it was a face.
     "Easy, there, fellow." came a voice.  "Take it slow.
You've been sick."
     A wet dampness, filled with the tingle of passion,
stroked his eyes, followed by a dry cloth feel that was as
strong.  Ivan could see again.
     The face was wild, but the eyes were mild.  Black hair
streaked with silver jutted at strange angles to the face,
hair and beard, and a badly trimmed mustache across its
center.  The nose was wide, the teeth were jagged, yellowed,
and missing.  But the eyes were kind and the smile gentle
and caring.
     "Where am I?" Ivan asked.
     "My home." the face replied.
     "Where is your home?"
     "On a hillside.  Not in a village.  There's a village a
few miles away.  I'm their healer, so they brought you to
me."
     "Where's David?" Ivan asked.  How long had he been
attached to that plant!?
     "Your friend?" The man laughed, and Ivan recognized the
laughter.  It was gentle now, but it had been wild, when it
mocked him and David at the melon patch.
     "Where is he?" Ivan reached for the face, but dizziness
overcame him, and he nearly swooned from the effort.
     "Easy, fellow.  You don't throw off the milkstump
plant's effects that easy."
     Ivan blinked, grimaced, could see and think again.
     The hands washed his body gently, and Ivan knew the
water was from the river, and the passion it held, in less
measure than the air, but it was there.  Had he been
stronger, his cock would have risen.  As it was, his body
treated it as the caresses of his mother.
     "How long?  Well, young fellow, it was two weeks ago
that I saw you and your friend in the melon patch.  I left
the notebook for you to read, so's you'd understand this
place.  Where is it?"
     "Lost.  A patch of carnivorous grass got it."
     "No matter.  It was a copy, so don't worry about it."
the hands crept down his chest and arms, and the man was
scrubbing his stomach in circular motions.  From the top to
the bottom was how Ivan was being washed.
     "How long was I on that plant?"
     "When you didn't show up in three days after I saw you
at the river, I sent some villagers to check on you.  They
cut you loose from the milkstump and brought you to me.
You've been lying here for a week.  Does that answer all
your questions?"
     "Where's David?"
     "The young man with you?  I don't know.  He never got
here, either."
     "I have to go find him."  Ivan tried to sit up, and
dizziness assailed him again.
     "Steady, young fellow.  We searched for him.  He's not
dead.  More likely the angels got him."
     Ivan would have asked about the angels, but his mind
was reeling.  He was still sick, he had to admit.
     The washing resumed, and the man finished with his
stomach, was now at Ivan's crotch.  Around his thighs, and
down around his balls and cock.  Dizzy as he was, Ivan found
the water and the washing working on him; he had an
erection.
     The man washed it as though it were an ordinary thing
to see, which perhaps it was.  The man washed and washed on
it, and Ivan groaned.  Slowly, the washing turned into
stroking, and Ivan's cock was being jerked inside the wet
cloth.  Slowly, then faster.
     "Nnnngh!" Ivan groaned.
     "Hold on, fellow.  A doctor gets a fee, don't he?" the
man moved, and Ivan realized that the man was as nude as
himself.  A single lithe motion, and the man was astraddle
of him, resting his hands on Ivan's breasts, kneaded them
with gentle motions, while the man's body squirmed atop him,
and Ivan felt his wet cock slide into the man's ass.
     "This is my fee." the man explained.  And he moved atop
his patient.
     Ivan tried to help with the lovemaking--the man
deserved something for saving his life, after all--but he
was too weak.
     "Just lie still, fellow." the doctor (Ivan thought of
him as the "doctor", for want of a better name)  "You're too
weak to help me.  I'll be fine just as I am."
     Ivan raised a hand and forearm, to grab the doctor's
cock, but the doctor grabbed his arm and held it down,
grabbed the other.  Ivan realized that with his weakness, he
couldn't fight off the doctor, and from the doctor's adroit
movements, didn't want to.  He settled for this mode of
lovemaking (is it rape? he wondered vaguely.  Surely not, he
hadn't protested), and lay still while the doctor hunched up
and down harder and more furiously.
     Ivan groaned with the pleasure, and tried to speed up
his cock which was bobbing in and out of the doctor's ass.
The man's hair was waving slowly as he moved, as if they
were under water.  Static electricity?  No matter, Ivan
enjoyed watching the hair and beard move as it was.
     The doctor was hunching at his cock intensely now, and
Ivan felt his orgasm assault him.  He moaned, exploded, and
as his come flew into the doctor's ass, Ivan slid from
orgasm into unconsciousness.
     It continued for days, the doctor hand-feeding him, the
food that aroused him, and ended each meal by straddling him
again while his hands held Ivan helpless.  It never changed,
their lovemaking, and Ivan never saw the doctor come, even
later when he was strong enough to stay awake for all of the
lovemaking.  He would erupt into the doctor's ass, the
doctor would groan and lay atop him, but the only moistness
Ivan felt was the sweat of their bodies between them.
     Ivan slept for over twelve hours, and awoke feeling
strong once again.  The doctor wasn't around, and Ivan stood
up, stretched, bent, looked into a mirror on one wall he had
noticed before, small but full-length, regarded his form.
     Thinner, perhaps, but still with his muscled contours;
a few days of extra workouts would bring him back to full
form.  Ivan grabbed one of the loincloths he had seen the
doctor wear, wrapped it around his loins as best he could
(the cloth pleasuring him, Ivan realized it was native-made)
and was lying there for him, donned his boots which lay at
the foot of the bed, and left the room.
     The doctor was standing at the stove, cooking them
dinner, Ivan supposed.  The hairy back, the buttocks peering
from each side of the loincloth.  Ivan smiled at the sight,
and the stirring of his groin inside the caressing cloth
stirred him, he stepped up behind the doctor and wrapped his
arms around him.
     "What the hell?" the doctor shouted, startled.
     Ivan ran his hands down into the loincloth while the
doctor struggled furiously.
     Startled, Ivan let go and the doctor jumped away from
him.
     "I'm sorry." Ivan said.  "I didn't know."
     "Know what, young man?" the doctor snarled.  With Ivan
healthy and about, the friendliness was gone.  Or perhaps
it was Ivan's discovery.
     "Know...that." Ivan couldn't say the word.
     "I'll have you know I did it on purpose." the doctor
said.  "Only way to survive here, young man.  You'd better
think about it, when you get to be my age, and can't handle
the constant erections.  I make love when I want to, you
remember that."
     "I will."  Ivan was embarrassed.
     "You'd better go, now.  The village is downhill.  Just
follow the path." And the doctor turned away.
     Ivan stepped out the door hung with a curtain, and
could see the village in a small clearing downhill.  The
path was clear enough.
     He trod it soberly.  The doctor's words hung on his
mind.
     "I did it myself." he had said.
     But how could anyone do that to himself?
     The doctor was in control of his sex life, Ivan
realized, but he'd never want to control himself that much.
Not that much.
     He'd never cut off his cock and balls the way the
doctor had.
     No wonder the poor guy wasn't quite sane.  When Ivan
had touched the doctor's groin, he had felt nothing.
Nothing at all.  But a few scars.
     No.  Never.
     Thinking this, Ivan strode through the village walls.

                      END OF CHAPTER 6