From: jerryg@pacbell.net (Jerry Gaither)
Subject: Stone Siren
Date: Mon, 16 Dec 1996 07:34:38 GMT
STONE SIREN
By Xibalba
Copyright 1991, Ephemeris Productions, Inc.
The car had just crapped out. I wasn't exactly sure what
had failed; maybe one of the electronic components in the "state
of the art" ignition system. You can't tell what the problem
might be with this stuff. All I knew is that now I was stuck
somewhere out on the desert with not another car--nothing--for as
far as I could see. I'd been sitting there for more than 20
minutes and the absolute silence of it all was something I was
beginning to notice for the first time.
My unexpected breakdown was just another part of the
whole unexpected cross-desert trip; on an inside tip, I'd gone to
Phoenix for a job interview and found there were over 200 appli-
cants for it. The entire experience was a failure, and now
this...
The unfamiliar background of emptiness was only broken by
the muffled plinking of what had to be drops of motor oil as the
last vestiges of my now still engine's lubrication fell from the
slowly cooling block back into the crankcase. I was marvelling
at how such a faint sound could be so audible when I became aware
that the stillness was now being invaded by something else.
From the distance came the hissing of the warm desert air
as it was sliced by a fast-moving vehicle. "A car!" I thought.
"God, I hope he stops; no one would leave anyone stuck out here."
It was late morning and the temperature still climbing but it was
Spring so things weren't too uncomfortable yet. I had a few
supplies but, without help, I knew my situation could get serious
in a day or so. "Maybe it's a cop..." I hoped.
The car got closer. It was coming from the direction
opposite I was traveling but, who cares, I had to get help some-
how. Maybe I should try to flag him down...
Closer now. It was a pickup truck--a blue one and rela-
tively new. Closer. There was only a driver--a man--he'd seen
me! He's slowing down! "Thank God, I've finally gotten out of
this mess; I hope I can still make it home by tomorrow!"
"What happened?" he shouted as he pulled up on the oppo-
site side of the road from me. He looked to be in his late
thirties, fair-skinned with somewhat boyish features. Perhaps he
lived nearby.
"Don't know," I said, "just stopped running all at once.
I think it's electrical; I've got lots of gas."
He shut down and got out. He was lean and a bit more
muscular than most city people. From his clothing--dusty jeans
and a loose-fitting western shirt--I figured he must be from
around here somewhere. Besides, his truck was covered with
desert dust too, like he did a lot of dirt-road driving.
My hood was up and he looked at the engine. "Can't tell
much from this. All this new garbage is solid state. Crank it
for me."
I hopped in and turned over the engine. Nothing. He
pulled a spark plug wire and held it close to the exhause mani-
fold. "Try it again." I did while I watched him through the gap
between the raised hood and the firewall. From his expression, I
could tell he wasn't getting anything.
"Nuthin' we can do here. I can drop you in Mesquite,
it's about 50 miles back the way you came; there's a garage
there. Guy's a thief, though, he'd charge you an arm and a leg
to come back out and get the car. You want me to tow you?"
"Well," I began--
"What the hell?" he continued for me, "I'm not doing
anything else anyway. And I've got a tow-bar," he said, drop-
ping to one knee to examine the front undercarriage of the car.
"Sure! What do I need to do?"
"Just help me hook you up. We can be there in about an
hour."
As we jury-rigged the tow-bar, I began feeling uncomfort-
able that I was getting help from this nice guy and hadn't intro-
duced myself. "Bill Whitwell, " I spurted and stuck my hand out,
"I certainly appreciate you doing this! You from around here?"
Reaching out from half-way under the front end he shook
my hand. "Harlan--Harlan Marks. Well, kind of." he answered,
getting back to his task under the car, "got a place about 60
miles that way," he said, his thumb emerging from under the car
to point in the direction he was going. "How about you? You
don't look like you're from the desert; where're you from an'
what're you doin' out here?"
"Oceanside. I'm sort of a freelance writer--on my way
back from a job interview. Trying to make money on your own
doesn't always work so well."
"I can believe that!" he said as he reemerged from under
the car, holding one end of a safety chain, "Amazingly enough,
I'm in the writing business too; only some of us are lucky enough
to have a full-time job. Well, kind of full time. I like to
work at home so I've set myself up way out in the boonies where
there'd be no interruptions."
"What kind of stuff do you do?" I asked, looking for a
glimmer of hope for my own miserable career.
He hesitated and looked at me for what seemed a long
time, "Adult adventures" he said carefully.
"Adult adventures..." I analyzed the possible meanings.
"You mean like melodrama, raw guts kind of stuff--"
"No...sex stories, porno--you know, fuck books." He said
it carefully, as if it might make me suddenly dislike him. I
think he told me out of professional courtesy, if nothing else.
"How about you?"
"Well," I started, "I did a lot of work as a staffer for
a big publishing house in L. A. Mostly rewrites of manuscripts.
Everything from kid's books to history to science. It got to be
a real drag--and it didn't pay worth a damn so when I saw a
couple of opportunities I jumped out on my own. It didn't work
too well."
"Yeah, I know about that part," Harlan said, smiling, "I
went through the same process. I fell into the porno market
almost by accident--especially what I'm doing now. A lot of the
background material I use for it was pretty unrelated--I studied
it as kind of a hobby. I was out of money and wrote a quick
story for some fuck mag. They loved it and it went from there."
"Nothing wrong with that," I said quickly, hoping not to
appear judging, "sounds interesting. Does it pay?"
"Sometimes--depends on the market and how they like what
you produce. Let's talk about it on the way--we're set to go."
We hopped into his truck and slowly accelerated down the
road. I watched as we pulled out, looking at my lifeless car
dutifully tagging along. For some time there was silence between
us then his words suddenly came, "Yes it pays."
Harlan's words surprised me so much that, for several
milliseconds, I didn't remember what he was talking about. "Oh,"
I said, sort of surprised, "that. I was just kind of wondering
what kind of stuff you were doing. I mean, what kind of market's
out there?"
"The market's immense. You wouldn't believe it--if
you're out of work, I know you wouldn't. My stuff is considered
hard core--real hard core. Unpublishable in the real world;
underground stuff. But it pays real good once you find the
market. You gay, straight, or what?"
"Uh--well, I'm not sure exactly, I've done both from time
to time but I never--" Harlan caught me totally by surprise. By
normal standards--by any standards--this kind of question might
be considered pretty out-of-line but, I found myself answering it
anyway. For some reason, my unconscious defenses seemed to be
telling me there was no threat here.
"It doesn't matter, really." he continued. "As long as
you are sexual, my type of work would probably appeal to you.
Somewhere in everyone, there's a response to this kind of stuff.
It varies over a wide range but I don't think there's anyone who
isn't stimulated by it in some way."
I had no idea what he meant but the notion was fascinat-
ing. Unconsciously I paged through my memories of porno-type
stories, looking for some aspect that fit his words.
Before I could come up with anything, he continued, "Ever
read stories about ancient cultures that practiced human sacri-
fice? Or maybe about covens of witches or Satanic cults where
people would be used in bizarre rituals and then killed? Or how
about sacrificial ceremonies where victims were tortured and used
as objects for sexual entertainment by their captors?"
I should have been growing suddenly uncomfortable at this
but instead something deep inside was stirring strangely. A
connection between sacrificial rites and sex was something I'd
never really considered before but it made sense. It was sudden-
ly fascinating. I felt the initial rush in my groin that always
led to an erection. "Actually," I began haltingly, "well, not
actually--that is...well, I've read about similar things but I
never thought of--"
"Open your shirt." he said, interrupting me.
He said it so quickly and commandingly that I did it
immediately. I was wearing a shirt with snaps instead of buttons
so I just pulled it apart. With my chest bare, I looked back at
Harlan. I'd done just what he'd told me without hesitation and I
was amazed. He was staring deep into me then his right hand
touched my belly. He moved it up and his fingertips touched my
right nipple ever so lightly. The coolness of his fingertip on
that sensitive bit of flesh sent an erotic lightning bolt through
me; I quivered and the rush in my groin intensified.
"See, your nipples are getting hard; the thought of it
excites you." His hand moved to my left nipple and he squeezed
it lightly. I shuddered and noticed my exposed belly was shiver-
ing despite the 90+ degree temperature. Actually, I'd never been
stimulated like this before. It felt pretty good. "I think I
cheated, though," he said laughingly, "I could tell you were
interested as soon as I told you about it. You kind of develop a
feel for it in people. Maybe that's why my stuff sells..."
He continued. "But I didn't mean to shock you or any-
thing, it's just that most people are excited by the thought of
sexually taking someone without their being able to do anything
about it. They can't share it because society doesn't condone
it. Sure, it might be against the rules but that doesn't make it
any less exciting--actually more so. In the societies that
practiced it, the human sacrifice aspect was simply the respec-
tive culture's way of providing a climax to a very exciting
ritual. While many times the victims were captives, many other
times they were willing."
I took a deep breath, feeling the warm sun on my bare
stomach. I was amazed at how easily I was taking Harlan's sudden
intimacy with me. Normally, I'd have recoiled at his first
sexual reference but there was something about him and perhaps
our isolated setting that disarmed all my hesitation. I felt so
at ease, so unthreatened. All I wanted now was to continue to
explore this idea and Harlan's insight was fascinating.
But he was right about my interest, subconscious as it
might be. The thought of sacrificial rites had always stirred me
but I was never sure why. I felt my erection beginning to strain
against my pants but I was afraid to betray my growing excitement
by looking down at it even for an instant. "I guess people have
always found the unacceptable a source of--uh--entertainment," I
said almost lamely, trying unsuccessfully to conceal the strange
passions continuing to surface. I took another deep breath,
trying to still the quivering muscles in my stomach. Harlan
continued.
"Societies all throughout the past have done it--some
still do. Ritual sex and human sacrifice permeate human history.
It's simply a manifestation of animal dominance and the degree to
which a given social structure embodies their sensual nature in
their culture.
"I started out studying lots of these cultures as an
anthropology major--the Maya, the Aztecs, the Thugs in
India--there are more than you might think. All of them prac-
ticed ritual sex and--many--human sacrifice as a gateway to
oneness with the Universe. In a way, it is a gateway because
those intense emotions and feelings can be totally unlocked as
the participants get more and more carried away by sexual frenzy.
It works for everybody--including the vicitm. Sometimes even
better than it does for his captors..."
Harlan knew the effect his words were having on me. He
paused, looked at me and slowly asked, "Doesn't the thought of
tying someone up and doing anything you want with
them--anything--kind of hit you deep inside?"
His words seemed calculated and I could feel his eyes on
me as he said them. Thinking back on it, he was right about his
evaluating me in some way. There was something unsettling as
well as exciting about it but I couldn't nail it down. Neverthe-
less, being with Harlan had a relaxing effect on me and I sensed
he was aware of it.
He'd unlocked a lust I'd never really explored before and
the aspect of unhibited sex gave it a new dimension that suddenly
drove my mind wild. My thoughts flashed to every human sacrifice
story I could think of. Images of naked victims tied to altar
stones, but now being raped again and again by a coven of also-
naked witches before being killed by a sacrificial daggar. What
about being captured by cannibals who, well aware of your ulti-
mate fate, use your body in every way imaginable before the final
slaughter? Or even more contemporary "shocking" accounts of
serial killers who kidnap their victims for days--even weeks--of
sexual torture before killing them?
Suddenly, I realized was breathing hard; I glanced down
and noticed my cock was bulging uncomfortably against my pants.
There was a tiny wet spot where my lubricating semen had soaked
through my underwear and now my pants. The combination of this
strange feeling of intimacy and these new exciting notions I
found utterly fascinating; I relaxed and allowed myself to take
time to enjoy the thoughts--and the pleasant sensations of my
hardening cock as it pressed ever more firmly against my cloth-
ing. Another deep breath and I let myself slip down in the seat
a little where the sunlight could reach the swelling in my groin;
the warmth felt good.
Harlan smiled a little and his right hand moved to my
crotch. On my pants, the tip of his finger ever-so-gently drew a
little arc below the dark spot of semen. Through my clothing, I
felt his fingertip sliding right along the base of the head of my
penis and I shuddered visibly. For the first time I noticed
Harlan looking into me, penetrating me. He seemed satisfied.
"Ever thought about doing it yourself?" he asked, shift-
ing his intensity to my eyes.
"You mean killing someone?" I said, surprised a bit.
"Or being killed?" he said carefully.
"What do you mean?" I said, the shock of it making me
worry a little. But I still couldn't sense anything evil in his
words--no threat, no hostility. Despite my excitement, I was
still at ease and open with him. He continued.
"I mean, some people like to do the using and some people
like to be used. Death isn't always the way these ceremonies
end, you know. The rituals I write about are usually practiced
by people to intensify sex. Actually, it's a pretty good way to
find out what makes you tick.
"What do you think about when you visualize a sacrificial
ritual? Your first thoughts--what do you see right now? What do
you feel?"
"Well," I mused, "I guess their body stretched out on the
altarstone, naked and vulnerable. Maybe the fear--the uncertain-
ty--as they see their captors watching them, savoring their
nakedness." I'd never explored this before and I thought more
deeply. "Perhaps, their own excitement too, as they realized
they were about to be taken--no, used--as an object of pleasure
by their captors. That the only thing they could do now would be
to abandon themselves to their fate--to give themselves."
Harlan's words about "willing" sacrifices were beginning to make
sense.
I felt Harlan's eyes on me. "Can you feel yourself on
that stone?" he asked slowly. "Can you feel the coolness of it;
the heat from the ceremonial fire; the beat of the drum?"
I was silent. The sound of the truck's engine and its
wheels droning on the pavement suddenly struck me. The rhythm,
the deep sounds. I was lost in these new and strangely exciting
thoughts. My penis was now bursting against my pants; unashamed-
ly I reached under my belt and into my pants to untangle it. The
coolness of my fingertips on its hotness made me shiver and, as I
withdrew my hand, a long droplet of my semen spread over the back
of it. I looked at the wetness and then at Harlan.
"You don't have to say anything," Harlan said knowingly,
"Take off your shirt."
Obediently, I quickly shed the unbuttoned shirt and
looked at him, waiting for his next instruction. He reached
under the seat and came up with what looked like two large soft
leather bracelets. "Put these on your wrists;" he said, "don't
make them too tight."
There was a belt-type hook and eye arrangement on each
bracelet and I awkwardly fastened them so they were comfortable.
Harlan took his right hand off the wheel and tested both of them
by pulling on the heavy steel rings attached to their outside.
"I'm not sure exactly how I think you'll do best," he said,
"we'll have to see. I suspect this is not something you want,
it's something you need, something you must have. If you want it
to be right for you, you have to trust me completely."
It seemed like I hadn't spoken for hours. "OK, " I said,
my breaths coming deep and hard, "just tell me what I have to
do." I was no longer in the real world. I was totally entranced
by Harlan; his understanding seemed to penetrate to the roots of
my soul. Somehow I knew that, if I abandoned myself to him, he
would lead me somewhere I'd never been before--somewhere beyond
wonderful. All I wanted to do was follow him and please him as
much as I could.
He seemed to know it. "Give me your left hand," he said.
He took a metal carabiner link and connected the bracelet
on my left wrist to the one on the right. My now bound hands lay
on my lap; putting a gentle but stimulating pressure on my throb-
bing cock.
Part 2
Copyright 1991, Ephemeris Productions
He was two steps ahead and I felt a surge of erotic energy
as I watched his well-formed buttocks swaying as we walked. He
lifted an animal skin that was covering the door and motioned me
in. There was a hot, damp rush of air and inside I could see a
dim light.
It was an ancient indian sweat house. There was a long
mound coming up from the floor which stood about 2 feet high.
The mound was covered with a thick layer of Tamarisk needles
and Harlan motioned me to lie on it. It supported my body but it
seemed to be kind of hollow at the same time. The warmth and the
softness of the bed of Tamarisk needles felt good on my tingling
skin.
My head extended a bit beyond the end of the mound so that
when I laid down, my neck arched back and the back of my head
rested on the mound's downhill slope. Harlan unclipped my wrists
and then attached each of my bracelets to clips on ropes suspend-
ed from the upper corners of the sweat house. Moving to my feet,
he clipped my anklets to two more ropes. Lifting my head, I
could see I was now spread-eagled with the weight of my limbs
supported by the ropes. My head was heavy with fatigue from my
whipping and the drugs; I relaxed and allowed my head to fall
back on its soft natural pillow. My mind--my entire soul--float-
ed.
The steamy atmosphere in the sweat house had a strange odor
to it. To either side of me was a huge fire pit but only a small
blaze was smouldering in one of them; the smoke drifted out
languidly through a hole in the roof. The other fire pit was
packed to the ceiling with wood and bark. There was a pile of
rocks next to the small fire and water from the spring was slowly
dripping on them to produce the steam.
By the candlelight I could make out a small stone vessel
centered over the flames. I could hear something bubbling in it
and, from time to time, I could just see thin trails of vapor
rising. Harlan moved over to it and had picked up another earth-
en pot. Carefully he poured some of its contents into the stone
vessel and a large cloud of brownish vapor issued up. The odor
in the sweat house was now intense; it was the same brown goo
he'd whipped into my skin outside. The odor was sweet and pun-
gent; I took deep breaths as did he. I could feel a tingling in
my penis.
Harlan made his way back to me, carrying the clay vessel.
He kneeled so that my backward tilted head was centered between
his thighs. It put his erect cock right in front of my face and
the odor of the pot's brown goo penetrated my nostrils. Even
with my upside down perspective, I could see his cock slowly
twitching to his heartbeat; his large scrotal sac rising and
falling with each throb. Though I couldn't see it, I felt my own
cock respond by producing a huge drop of semen that dripped
heavily onto my lower belly. I shivered as I felt its wetness
hit my skin.
Harlan's hand came down to his cock and grabbed it at the
base. He bent it down toward the Tamarisk needle-covered floor.
I could see its stiffness fighting against being pointed in this
unnatural direction. He brought the earthen pot between his legs
and slowly inserted his penis. I felt him shudder as the head
first contacted the hot goo.
His cock was totally covered as he pulled it back out of the
container. Either the hotness or the sensation was causing him
to tremble now and I saw a tiny white droplet of semen just
emerge from the brownness covering the tip of his glans. He
reached down with his other hand and put a gentle pressure on my
chin. Sensing what he was about to do, I opened my mouth and he
slid his cock in slowly.
The brown goo had a sweet, musky taste and it was slippery.
My tongue and the mucous membranes of my mouth tingled wildly as
the substance spread across them. I began to feel more and more
excitement as Harlan's cock penetrated deepeer into my mouth and
then down my throat. In my relatively minimal fellatio experi-
ences, I'd never been able to do it very well because of my gag
reflex. This was different. The goo seemed to numb my throat
somewhat; I was totally relaxed and greedily drank in his entire
length.
He began slowly fucking my mouth in long strokes. My head,
resting back on the mound, was ideally placed. I felt his warm
scrotal sac softly brushing up against my nose and forehead with
every slow and steady thrust. Delicious surges of excitement
washed over me and I closed my eyes to lose myself in erotic
excitement. No doubt the sweet goo was an intense drug for both
of us.
My sensory perception increased even more as Harlan's long
strokes continued. Ingredients in the slick brown gooey sub-
stance seemed to super sensitize my mouth and throat. I could
sense every nuance and curve of his cock as it worked. I could
feel the edge of his glans as it slipped past the back of my
tongue and deep down my throat. I timed my breaths to his
strokes, relaxing and focusing my entire being on abandoning this
sensitive part of me for his taking. My mouth and throat, al-
ready a source of pleasure to Harlan, now became the same to me.
Muscles I never before knew were there gripped and caressed his
shaft as it slid along my throat; it was a mutual love-making. I
remembered Harlan's words about my being simply an "object" for
his pleasure now. The thought was more exciting than ever now
and I let myself go.
I opened my eyes. As Harlan's slow strokes continued, I
could see his sweat mixed with the brown goo dripping from his
balls and thighs when he pulled back far enough for my eyes to
focus. Each stroke was getting more forceful and deeper now; he
was getting close...
I gripped his cock with my mouth and throat as strongly as I
could. He responded by speeding up and thrusting more deeply. I
felt his penis suddenly swell and his urethra dilate as his
climax approached; a warm film of his pre-come wetness suddenly
slickened the back of my throat. It was wonderful; we were
becoming one. I felt my own cock twitching violently with my
screaming heartbeat. Closer. He began to moan.
He exploded; the first rush of his sperm-laden semen flooded
the back of my mouth. Reflexively, he thrust deeper and I felt a
second rush splashing well down my throat. Meanwhile his slip-
pery musk spread, coating the insides of my mouth and throat. It
lubricated him completely as the intense quakes of his orgasm
gradually continued. His cum slipped into me as a second wave of
ecstasy swept him. My being responded by opening itself further,
trying to drawing him into me totally. Out of my mind with a
lust I'd never before imagined, I pressed myself to his thrusting
cock as I felt hot sperm gush once more. My body welcomed of
this precious essence, craving it, needing it. It was wonderful
as those fleeting heartbeat moments passed, we were one in an
infinite orgasm beyond all thought. He was totally inside me
now, his movements frozen, my mouth wide and pressed hard
against his pubic bone. Finally the spasms began to subside.
His sweat-covered torso collapsed onto me. His shrinking
cock was still in my mouth and I began slowly and rhythmically
sucking him in time with his fading contractions. His fingertips
softly gripped my throbbing cock, moving it out of the way as the
tip his tongue pressed into my navel to drink my semen collected
there. Harlan's tongue gently explored my belly, tasting my
skin; consuming the rest of the wetness our experience had thus
far brought from me. My entire body shuddered and I pulled
against my bonds. He moved forward a bit and his now limp cock
slid from my lips.
My mouth, still wide and desperate for more of his juices,
found his balls and he paused to let me take what I might. There
were remains of the drugged brown goo on their soft skin and I
greedily licked and sucked them. I drew first one, then both of
his testicles into my mouth, trying to swallow them in a seizure
of sexual energy. The pressure must have felt good to Harlan
because he moaned with each of my tugs.
Finally he relaxed. Gently, he pulled back from me and I
let his balls slip from my mouth. I was ecstatic and totally
aroused. I looked up at him anxiously as he knelt naked before
me.
"I knew you'd be perfect," he said serenely, "I knew it.
It was the first time he'd spoken to me since he'd bound me
to the tree.
"We're moving on to the next step now," he said softly.
Harlan produced a leather cock-ring and snapped it around my
cock and balls. Its base held a small metal ring through which
he fed a long leather thong. This he ran through another ring on
the wall and pulled the end so there was tension on it. The
effect was to pull my rigid cock from lying on my stomach to
standing vertically. The sensation was indescribable. I took a
deep breath as I felt another surge and a flow of more of my
semen. I watched enthralled as a huge hot drop emerged from my
phallus and ran lazily down. Orange sparkles from the fireplace
glinted from the clear, slick fluid as it left its trail along my
length.
"Close your eyes," he said.
I did and I felt him drape a cloth over my eyes and fasten
it behind my head. A blindfold. What now?
Since no blindfold is perfect, my eyes immediately opened to
explore this new world of darkness. There were only a few light
gaps in the fabric and I was only able to sense the dimmness of
the burning candle wick and Harlan's movements around in the hut.
He seemed to be very active and there were a few sliding and
clicking noises as what seemed to be several minutes passed.
I sensed Harlan moving around again. There were a few
metallic clinking sounds he knelt beside me. A warm liquid
substance was being poured onto my chest in the low spot on my
sternum. I felt his hands spreading it over my now sweat-covered
body. His hands were soft and, as they swept over my pectorals,
I felt my nipples rock hard against them. Another rush of
warmth--this time on my belly. I gasped and felt my rock-hard
cock throb with the sensation. I realized my skin was tingling
everywhere the warm liquid had been spread; this must have been a
more diluted form of the brown goo. All around my stomach--now
my pubic area! I moaned with excitement and started to tremble
as his hands worked the warm substance down around the base of my
cock and over my balls.
The movement pulled against the leather throng binding my
cock, producing erotic sensations like I'd never experienced. In
the blackness of my blindfolded world, I let myself go once more,
focusing all of my thoughts on what I was feeling and the sensu-
ality of it. His hands continued to work, to caress, and the
sensations built. I suddenly realized I was starting to come.
Harlan must have sensed it because he stopped moving so the
surges could pass. Apparently, my release would not be allowed
so early.
There was a pause and then I felt a kind of scratching
sensation on my pectoral area. It was a moment before I realized
it but he was shaving me! I was going to protest but, after all,
I did give myself to him. I was along for the ride and so far it
had been more exciting than anything I'd ever experienced. Let's
see what happens next...
It took what I imagined to be a couple of hours to accom-
plish the task. There would be shaving sensations followed by
warm water flowing over my skin and down into the deep, porous
bed of tamarisk needles on which I was bound. When he'd finished
my chest and stomach, he paused and applied some more warm stuff
to my crotch again. This process went extremely slowly. In my
hyper-excited state I was on the verge of orgasm almost constant-
ly. We developed our own unspoken communication; as Harlan's
manipulations and the thong's tension on my cock brought me
close, I'd moan a little and he'd pause to let the surges dissi-
pate. It was a totally new world and I loved its every nuance.
Ever-so-carefully, I felt him using the razor to strip the
hairs from the base of my cock as it stood vertically, its en-
gorged and throbbing rigidness resisting against the thong hold-
ing it upright. Suddenly, he popped loose the cock ring and my
rock hard penis slapped noisily onto my now hairless belly. I
felt his hands gently lift it as he shaved the remaining hairs
which were under the ring's material. Then he gripped my balls
to pull the skin there tight as he shaved around the edge of my
sac. With each stroke of the razor, my cock would twitch against
the tension. I came even closer to orgasm and seemed to float in
a state of erotic bliss. After what felt like days, he finished.
He stopped a moment, likely admiring the results of his
totally laying bare my rigid and throbbing cock. Suddenly a
scalding hot liquid flowed onto my loins and enveloped my balls.
My body heaved and I heard myself screaming; the ropes binding my
limbs strained against the solidness of their anchors. I explod-
ed with the sensations and I felt a drop of my lubricating wet-
ness spurt from my trembling cock and splash warmly onto my newly
shaven chest.
All at once I recognized the strong odor and the intense
tingling I'd felt before; Harlan had poured the concentrated hot
brown goo over me. It's warmth and aphrodisiac effects were now
beginning to take hold and my muscles relaxed. I took deep
breaths as the hotness of the brown goo ran down and soaked the
soft, now totally naked skin of my scrotal sac. The newly shaven
skin was infinitiely more permeable to the goo's mystic ingredi-
ents and they seemed to penetrate more quickly, having a more
profound effect than ever before. I drifted in and out of con-
sciousness as I allowed myself to once more become lost in the
ecstasies it brought.
More activity now. The cock ring was snapped back on and
the thong's tension restored. He moved on to my legs and I felt
every step as he'd apply what must have been the warm shaving
cream and then gently worked the razor over my skin. His soft
hands gently caressed my calves and thighs as he worked. He
seemed to be feeling my musculature carefully--evaluating me in
some way.
Even my toes were part of it. I felt Harlan apply tiny bits
of warm shaving cream to the hairs on each one then gently shave
it clean. He tested this part of me differently--with his mouth.
After each bare foot was shaved, he'd begin licking the top. I
felt his mouth suck my toes inside it--his slippery tongue run-
ning between them. This sensation was incredible and I heard
myself moaning in my private darkness.
Harlan responded by using his teeth to make gentle nips at
the base of each toe. I began to shiver with the excitement of
this new and fabulous experience and I felt my cock throbbing
wildly against its bonds. Harlan's teeth began working around
the outside of each foot to the instep and he bit down harder on
the soft tissue there. This seemed to be another test as I felt
his teeth and tongue carefully sample every square inch. No one
was enjoying this more than me and, by this time, my entire body
was convulsing with the intense pleasure of it. My moans turned
to gasps as I tried to grind my nakedness deeper into the warm,
now damp bed of Tamarisk needles I was bound to.
Harlan allowed me to relax as he spread more warm shaving
cream on my arms. This time the razor raised goosebumps as he
gently worked it over me. Even my hands and fingers felt the
edge of his carefully wielded razor; my ritual must have required
the removal of every hair on my body. When he got to my under-
arms, he applied a mixture he must have prepared specially. It
was intensely hot and provided yet another new and incredibly
stimulating sensation. After shaving me there, he began working
over that area with his tongue and I began to shiver and moan
once again. I think if he had just touched the head of my cock
at that moment, I would have come instantly.
Harlan began gently sampling each arm's musculature with his
teeth and fingers as he worked his way down to my hands. I felt
my fingers slip into his mouth. His tongue and teeth moved over
each one and then the softer tissue on my palms. Between the
drugs and his stimulation, I had reached places I'd never been
before. I began to realize that this experience must have been
intended for me; that I had been missing something very much a
part of my destiny.
Then he released one of my wrists and removed its leather
bracelet. After carefully shaving the hairs underneath, he put
the bracelet back on and repeated the performance with my other
wrist. Clipping my wrists together, he must have attached one of
the suspension ropes to them because my arms were still stretched
out over my head. Now he moved to my ankles and released both.
Like my wrists, each ankle was freed from its bracelet and
shaved. But this time the procedure was different.
Harlan rolled me over on my tamarisk covered bier. He
reattached my anklets to their suspension ropes and my legs lay
spread and open to him as my rock hard cock pressed into my bed
of soft damp needles. More warm shaving mixture flowed onto my
back and down into its recesses above my buttocks. Soft hands
spread it about and its now familiar tingle felt strangely sensu-
al on this part of my body.
He shaved the few hairs from my skin there and rinsed the
mixture with more hot water. There was only one part of me with
hair still remaining and my excitement built as I anticipated the
unknown, but doubtlessly erotic, sensations which had to follow.
Warm, slippery shaving mixture was now poured onto my but-
tocks and spread gently by his soft hands. Harlan kneaded my
buns, seeming to test them as he'd done before with the rest of
my body. The razor felt cool as it stripped the their hairs away
and I knew his task was all but complete.
Finally, the warm shaving mixture was smoothed onto my anus
and I shivered with it. His soft fingers worked it in and aroun-
d, slipping into me ever so little to make sure every square
millimeter was covered. Harlan's infinitely sharp blade explored
every minute recess of my hole's exterior, carefully taking even
the smallest of the hairs there. I'd never experienced anything
like it and the soft anal tissue tingled wildly as he worked.
Harlan stepped back a moment and I felt him adjust the ropes
holding my ankles. He pulled them tighter and my legs spread
further. When he'd finished this adjustment, I was spread as far
as I'd ever been and the sensation was confused between discom-
fort and excitement at being this vulnerable. My anticipation
was building faster; I took deep breaths, inhaling the hut's
aphrodisiac vapors and reveling in the yet unknown ordeal I was
about to experience.
My body heaved as blisteringly hot goo flowed down between
my buttocks and onto my newly denuded anus. My muscles there
tensed as my breaths became gasps. Harlan sensed it and his
fingers began spreading the slippery admixture over those sensi-
tive tissues. The soothing effect was immediate and I felt my
entire body relax. His finger slid into me and I shuddered once
more. Inside, the liquid was like sexual fire as it coated the
tender membranes there. My heart pounded as his finger slid in
and out, each time more deeply. Then there was a second finger,
a third; my breaths were coming hard and deep now. I sighed as
he began to withdraw his fingers but, all at once they were
replaced with what I though must be his cock.
My suspicions were confirmed instantly as I felt the warm,
moist skin of his stomach on my now bare buttocks and back.
Slowly he drove his member up to his balls into me and, just as
slowly, back out. At the same time he rubbed his skin on mine,
driving the slick, sensuous brown admixure into both of us. It
went on for several moments and I began moving with him as he
worked. I though him close to climax and longed for his hot
sperm to join the fluids already inside me. But he slowed and
stopped, apparently saving this load for pleasures yet to unfold.
Gradually, he slid from me and, taking a deep breath, stood up.
He was finished. Releasing my ankles and turning me over,
he removed my blindfold and lifted my head so I could see my
body. It was totally devoid of hair; I was like a newborn baby.
This must have been part of the ancient ritual: preparing the
soul of the sacrifice to be reborn. The warm, damp Tamarisk
needles again felt sensual on my bare feet and I slowly rubbed my
toes into them while Harlan released my arms.
He clipped my wrists together again and led me out of the
hut. It was very dark and felt intensely cold outside the ele-
vated temperature of the sweat house. He wrapped a robe similar
to his around me and donned his own. We walked toward the
spring.
As we approached, I could see a small fire burning. In the
dim light I could make out something hanging from one of the
trees nearby. Getting closer, I saw it was some type of rectan-
gular harness arrangement suspended horizontally by several
ropes.
It was made of leather and looked to be just the right size
to hold a human body. Harlan positioned me so that it was behind
me and he untied two of the ropes so the harness hung vertically.
He removed my robe and unclipped my wrists. He backed me into
contact with the leather straps. Stretching my arms upward, he
clipped each of my wrists to rings attached to the ropes running
up to the tree. As I stood there spread-eagled, he buckled
straps around my torso that held the harness to my body. Then he
began tightening the remaining two ropes.
As the harness became horizontal, Harlan gently pushed me
backwards so that I was finally suspended about three feet above
the ground. My feet finally left the ground and he clipped my
anklets to two more rings in the ropes about 2 feet above my now
horizontal body. He stepped back to examine me. He seemed to
fill with excitement as he surveyed my naked, and now hairless
torso hanging before him in the firelight. He threw more wood
onto the fire and dropped his robe. His cock was becoming erect
again.
Harlan stared at me for a long moment. My bare buttocks
extended just past the end of the harness and he seemed fascinat-
ed by their shape in the flickering light. I'd known for some
time that I had a nice-looking ass; both men and women had com-
mented on it. Actually, I'd developed an eye for this particular
body part too and I found Harlan's naked posterior quite stimu-
lating. The feeling was apparently mutual as he reached out and
gently caressed each of my buns; sampling them like he had the
muscles of my arms and legs. There was still a trace of the
welts my earlier flogging and I sighed deeply at his touch.
Seconds later, he'd seemed to have made the decision to
continue and began shortening the ropes suspending my legs and
lower torso. Instead of being suspended horizontally, my body
was now tilted upward with my buttocks slightly higher than my
chest.
Harlan reached down by the fire and brought back what looked
to be a goat-skin container of some kind. It was obviously full
of something and had a tube protruding from one end terminating
in a small penis-shaped head. I began to see what was about to
happen. With my legs spread apart and tied well above, my anus
was perfectly positioned.
Harlan reached down again, this time coming up with what
looked like a small leather pouch about six inches in diameter.
He squeezed it and more of the dark brown goo emerged from a
strategically placed hole where the pouch was sewn together. He
ran the goo all along the length of the tube's penis-like end.
Holding the tube and turning it as the slippery substance ran
over its surface, he waited until its entire length was coated.
With another squeeze of the pouch he deposited another gob onto
his finger and gently slid it into me.
He seemed to enjoy sliding his finger through my anal open-
ing; he worked it firmly but gently and the drugged substance
began to make my entire lower body tingle. As his finger moved
around in me, he brushed my prostate gland causing a large drop
of my semen to appear at the head of my cock. As he slid the
enema tube deep into me, the drop slowly fell onto my bare stom-
ach leaving a string-like link to my urethra that sparkled bright
orange in the firelight.
As Harlan lifted the enema bag, I felt its liquid flow into
me like a warm glow. I felt a sudden fullness and a rush of
excitement. He'd apparently added some kind of drug to the
mixture and it was being absorbed almost instantly into my blood-
stream.
When all the liquid was inside me, he slowly withdrew the
tube. From a small shelf built onto the nearby tree-trunk he
took a small, carved stone butt plug which he coated with the
brown goo and slid into me. I felt my sphincter slip around its
rounded head then grip its grooved base, making a perfect seal.
Harlan stood there for a moment and then his fingertip touched
the end of my cock as it now lay on my upraised stomach. He
collected some of my wetness with it and tasted it. He smiled.
Without saying a word, he turned and walked away. I couldn't see
him anymore; the only awareness I now had was of the stars above
me and the warmth of the fire crackling nearby.
The drug inside me was working more strongly now; it was
powerful and made me concentrate on my nakedness, my vulnerabili-
ty as I hung there. I realized I had truly passed from my previ-
ous identity as a person to a simple object of pleasure for the
captor to whom I'd given myself. I felt relaxed and at peace
with it. No longer did I wonder what would happen to me nor did
I care--I only wanted to be worthy and provide the whole of
myself to the one to whom I now belonged. I realized that the
more pleasure I gave him, the more I would ultimately experience
in return.
I began breathing heavily as time passed and the enema began
to work. I don't know how long Harlan had left me there but
suddenly he had returned. He reached right below me and seemed
to lift something. Straining, I could see it was some kind of
hatch or covering. Reaching between my legs, he slipped out the
stone butt plug and loosened two of the ropes suspending my torso
and legs; the harness must have been well designed technique
because my torso was almost instantly tilted downwards. My bowel
let go and I could see that there was indeed a deep hole below me
strategically placed for this operation.
Harlan washed me off with a flow of warm water apparently
heated by the fire during our sweat house experience. He hoisted
me up again. This time he used a different bag but it had the
same appearance as the first. After lubricating me and the tube,
he held it high as he filled my gut again. The hotness spread
through me once more.
The drug rush hit me. This time infinitely more intense
than the first. My mind and body reeled. The hallucinations
were beginning again and my entire consciousness focused on my
penis standing out rock hard directly in front of my eyes. This
time the feeling of fullness was carrying me away; I flowed with
it while watching drop after drop of semen emerging and running
across my upturned stomach toward my hairless chest.
I felt myself being lowered again. Either my bowel released
more slowly this time or my perception of time was beginning to
be altered. It seemed like a long time before I found myself
cleaned up and hoisted ass high again. The firelight spread into
rainbow-like patterns on the Tamarisks over head. The whole
desert began to throb to my heartbeat.
Harlan had a third bag ready; this one was a little smaller
than the first two. It was wet and steaming like he'd just
taken it out of a pot of hot water. Instead of a long tube, it
had a rigid large diameter tube about six inches long. At its
end was a short rounded fixture that looked like a phallus. It
was a phallus! It was carved from wood or stone but it was
definitely an artificial penis. Harlan squeezed the bag out of
the head of the penis issued a large blob of the drugged brown
goo. He smiled a little as he spread the slippery substance over
it.
At that moment it occurred to me why the shapes of Harlan's
enema bags were so familiar. I stared at his phallus-tipped bag
as he again lubricated my anus. They resembled human stomachs!
Could he have gotten them from some ancient shaman? Did he take
them from previous sacrifices like me? Did--
I gasped as Harlan slipped the artificial cock deep into me.
He squeezed the bag and I felt the drug laden mixture oozing red
hot into my shivering bowel. My mind was only partly functional.
Would he kill me? What will--The drug rush hit me like a tidal
wave and I was totally swept out of my mind. All I could think
of was how utterly sexually excited I was; how complete was my
nakedness and vulnerability. I belonged to Harlan; whatever he
did would be wonderful--even death.
He removed the now empty bag and lowered my torso level
again. His face was staring into mine. Around his head were
glowing rings of color. The firelight had converted the green-
ness of the Tamarisks into millions of hands reaching for the
sky. This time when I saw the stars, there seemed to be billions
of them, all beckoning to me.
In my delirium, I saw Harlan taking hold of his cock and
spreading a large glob of the hot brown goo over it like he did
in the sweat house. He slowly approached me and touched the head
of it to my anus. It was an incredible feeling. He pressed into
me and I felt my entire being open up to him, I felt totally ful-
filled. He didn't move, he just stood there coupled deep into
me. He smiled serenely again as he must have felt the rush from
the drugs in the goo permeate his cock and work outward from his
groin.
Slowly he pulled out of me and took a long look at his
twitching cock. He reached down and returned holding up another
phallus-like object so I could see it. It was a penis and scro-
tum carved from stone lifelike except that, like the butt plug,
there was a deep groove cut which reduced its diameter by about
half. He covered it with more goo and slid it deep into me. He
must have had it in the heated water too as I felt its hotness
flowing into my anal tissues.
Harlan walked around to where my head was protruding beyond
the end of the harness. I'd been straining my neck muscles for
what seemed like hours now to watch what was being done to me. I
relaxed and let my head fall back and hang upside down. Just
like in the sweat hut, slid it in all the way. By this
time I was ravenous for the sweet, brown goo and greedily sucked
and lof it.
After a moment, he slowly removed his dick and backed away.
The drugs were coming up to their full strength now in my system
and I could no longer raise my head. My upside down perspective
heightened my disorientation and I became lost in a world of
hallucination and erotic imagery. To the best of my knowledge
Harlan had left me there.
Hours seemed to pass as I lie suspended. My mind swirled
with images of thousands of sacrificial victims, offering them-
selves over the centuries to be bound and used by even more thou-
sands of tormentors. They--as now myself--were resigned to their
fate as objects of sensual pleasure, seeking only the revelation
of the mysteries hidden deep within their souls and knowing only
their captors could remove that veil.
The next thing I remember, I felt my anklets being unclipped
and my legs dropping. It was still dark. Just as it had been
every time so far, the soft Tamarisk needles felt sensual as my
bare feet gently touched down. My arms were still suspended
above me and I heard a voice ask, "How are you?"
It was a moment until I could speak. I looked down at my
body and seemed to see its hairless nudity for the first time.
My cock was no longer the throbbing rod as before but it still
stood out in front of me in a half-erection. I felt, and sudden-
ly remembered, the stone phallus still lodged in me. "Fine, I--I
think," I heard myself say.
Harlan was wearing his silver robe again. He reached up and
unclipped my wrists from the suspension ropes. My numb arms fell
limp to my sides. I could barely stand.
"Are you hungry?" he asked.
I imediately found myself famished. I didn't know how
many hours it had been since my ordeal began--I couldn't even
remember the last time I'd eaten before that. "Yes...yes," I
said weakly.
Harlan clipped my wrists together again and led me back
toward the sweat house and the fire pit. The fire was blazing
huge and bright--much more than before. We walked by the smooth
flat altarstone and I felt a surge deep in my groin as I looked
at it. My eyes were again drawn to the grooves at the ends and
corners of the stone. In my mind flashed visions of the count-
less naked, struggling victims, their bonds wearing them deeper.
The stone was calling to me and I wanted nothing more than to be
tied to it. He allowed me to pause next to it a moment, letting
me touch it with my bound hands. It was cool and welcoming to
me; my cock had hardened once more and its tip justone's edge.
It was electric. I shuddered with it and
Harlan watching me; his eyes told me the time had not yet come.
We walked on.
We arrived at the sweat hut and Harlan motioned me in again.
The interior was no longer damp and hot. There were several
candles burning and the fire which was burning earlier in one of
the two fireplaces was out. Instead, even more wood was stacked
to the ceiling there, just like on the other side. Actually the
floor of the hut was covered with bundles of wood except for a
small pathway to the long raised mound in the center. Harlan
motioned me to sit on it and he clipped my wrists to a rope
hanging down from the middle of the ceiling. He walked out.
The drugs were still affecting me and I wanted to touch
something sensually. I reached out a bare foot and gently ran
the bottom of it across the broken ends of one of the wood bun-
dles on the floor. It stirred me. I felt my cock begin to stand
erect again. I began rubbing my other foot on the damp Tamarisk
needles directly in front of me and it felt good. I became
conscious of the soft cushion of needles directly under my naked
ass and I shuddered. A drop of clear semen appear at the top of
my stiffening dick. Fruitlessly, I searchefe when I'd been this
excited; there was nothing ev I took a deep b
The swishing of the skin covering the sweat house door
revealed Harlan entering with an earthenware bowl. The odor of
cooked meat triggered an intense appetite and I couldn't wait to
eat something. The food in the bowl had a strange but very
intriguing odor.
It was meat alright and it was very tender, like it had
been marinated and cooked a long time. There was a smooth, sort
of musky texture to the sauce. I thought it might be laced with
some more drugs but, by this time, all I wanted was more of this
experience so I ate it greedily as Harlan fed it to me. There
was quite a bit and I finished it all. Harlan held the bowl to
my lips as I drank the last of the strange-tasting gravy.
I felt rejuvenated and relaxed. I noticed my cock had
lost its erection for the first time since I'd met Harlan. I
felt content. "What was it?" I asked him.
"A special meat prepared from an ancient recipe. It's
only served to those involved in the ritual," Harlan replied
quietly.
"It was good," I said in an effort to compliment him,
"what was in the sauce?"
"Natural meat juices, some special ritual drugs, and
human sperm," he said matter of factly.
When Harlan used the words, "human sperm," I felt a
renewed tingle in my groin. The thought of this was fascinating.
Suddenly, the thought of my consuming someone's come prepared as
a gravy was incredibly stimulating. I felt my cock beginning to
stand erect again.
This whole ritual was beginning to be enormously reward-
ing for me; it was like my entire life had led me to this point.
Harlan was a loving guide showing me what was possible. I felt
tremendously grateful to him and renewed my resolve to totally
give myself to whatever or wherever he'd take me. My cock was
indeed erect again and I longed for him to remove his robe and be
naked with me.
I felt another strange sensation begin to build. It was
a rushing dizziness. The food must have contained more potent
drugs and their effects were beginning to hit. They must have
been intended to stimulate me sexually since that was certainly
what was going on. I was unconsciously rubbing my bare feet into
the hut's damp Tamarisk needle-covered floor and I look see
yet more clear semen drops appearing from the hea
rock-hard cock.
Harlan seemed to be aware of just what was happening and
what I was thinking. He reached up and unfastened his robe. It
dropped at his feet and, for the first time, I was able to get a
good look at the tiny object attached to his right nipple.
It was a small gold ring passing through a pierce in the
nipple. On the ring was something suspended--a tiny shape I
couldn't quite make out in the dim light. He seemed to read my
mind again and moved closer so I could see. It was a tiny phal-
lus!
"You might call this my totem," he said quietly, "it's
the symbol of my soul. You have your symbol too and you must
help me find it before I can free your spirit completely."
Harlan looked deep into me and, from his eyes, I could
tell he had found something. I wasn't sure what it might have
been but I had made some discov
this and wanted it intensely. Something buried for my entire
life was awakening and I felt it emerging more and more strongly
with each passing heartbeat.
Harlan squatted and picked up my right foot as I sat on
the hut's mound. I leaned back and shifted my weight to the rope
suspending the bonds holding my wrists; the stoy rectum shifted a
bit and felt good. Harlan's hand gently
stroked and squeezed the my calf muscles, testing them again
carefully. His other hand unfastened and removed my anklet. He
removed the other anklet in the same way.
His soft touch stimulated me and, combined with the
effects of the drugged meat, my body was gently trembling. I
looked down and saw that more large, clear drops of semen had
emerged from my urethra and were sliding down the hard shaft of
my penis. My gaze drifted to my now completely naked legs and
feet; their lines no longer broken by the leather ankle brace-
lets. I again slowly rut on the
hut's Tamarisk needle-covered floor and the sensation drove
electric shocks up my legs into my groin.
I hadn't noticed Harlan's hand moving up to my chest.
Suddenly I felt his soft fingertips gently caressing my rock hard
nipples. This was a totally new feeling and my whole body quaked
with the excitement it brought. I looked back at Harlan's eyes
and found them staring deep into me again. He was definitely
seeing something--something that, to me, appeared that he wasn't
completely expecting.
His hands unclipped the rope suspending my wrists. He
removed my leather bracelets and let my hands drop to my sides as
I sat there. "We don't need these anymore," he said softly,
I knew what he meant. We stood up together and he
led the way outside.
I felt myself changing faster than ever now. Watching
Harlan's well-formed buttocks swaying gently as the light from
the huge fire in the pit outside played on theion grew. The drugs
in the meat were working well
now and every sensory input was amplified. Walking caused my
already throbbing cock to bounce and the slight downward strain
on its rock-hard erection became more sensual with each step.
The sudden, intense heat of the fire felt fabulous on my
trembling nakedness as we approached the pit. We walked slowly
by the sacrificial stone and I felt it calling out to me louder
than ever before. Unconsciously, I touched its smooth surface
again. Its coolness brought exactly the sensation I expected and
this satisfaction sent a jolt of delight through me. I looked
again at the grooves worn in the stone's ends and corners and
breathed deeply.
This was not our destination yet, however. Harlan had
led me to a small flat altar built atop the low wall surrounding
the firepit. On it was a bundle made of a very old animal skin
covered with heiroglyphic characters. We knelt down and Harlan
began unwrapping it.
I said nothing as I felt the changes inside me continuing.
Inside the skin was a rolled piece of ancient cloth about 18
inches long and Harlan spread it out on the altar stone. Inside
was what appeared to be three obsidian blades, each about three
inches wide. Two were more than a foot long and a there was a
smaller one about six inches long. The knives had handles made
from what appeared to be human femurs--each femur section care-
fully sized to match the scale of its blade. The bones appeared
extremely old, their brown surfaces glazed from being handled for
many many years.
Without a doubt these were ancient sacrificial knives used
during Yuka rituals--perhaps the same ritual of which I was now
part. From the edge of the fire pit, Harlan picked up a large
covered bowl. As he removed the cover, the odors from the swirl-
ing vapors told me it was more of the strange gravy I'd had in
the sweat hut.
Looking deep into me, he drank several large gulps. The
warm liquid ran from the corners of his mouth, dripping onto his
stomach and loins. Without breaking eye contact, he handed it to
me and I did the same; the silky warm splash of the escaping
droplets spread over me.
"It's time to choose," Harlan said softly and seriously.
"You are free now. You can go if you wish or you can finish what
you've begun." He fell silent and stared into my eyes as we
knelt naked in the firelight.
There was really no choice for me. In these past hours,
I'd come to know an existence far beyond any mortal experience I
could concieve. Harlan was no longer a guide to me; he was the
gatekeeper who could deliver a path to the secrets of the Uni-
verse. I knew my death could be a part of it but I also knew
more--much more--awaited me.
----To be continued----
=======================================================
Jerry Gaither
E-mail: jerryg@pacbell.net
Home Page: http://www.GeoCities.com/SoHo/1344
=======================================================