Flight 12

Flight 12 – a serial novel by Travis Creel.

CHAPTER SIX: HUNTING AND GATHERING

Previously:

• Seth Herrick and ten others from the right side of the plane have arrived at a Phallic Tower, whose floor contains a multi-colored dodecagon. Earlier, a yellow dodecagon in the forest prompted the homophobic Cody to morph into his randy alternate persona, Ray, and proposition the religiously conservative Augie. Other members of the group are Harry (an insecure but competent heavyset gay man), Ed (a British knight), Vic (a `Black hunk'), and five newbies (Paul, Dai, Jasper, Lucas, and Tim) whom we'll get to know when we need to. Ed's estranged son, Leo, is missing, and there is a storm approaching.

• Meanwhile, the dozen passengers from the plane's left side `land' offshore and camp out on the beach. They include Abe (Seth's boyfriend), the flight attendant Percy, Stan (a married man), his seatmate Al, and a pair of Bahamians (Theo and Piers). The next morning, Stan wakes up alone – and nude.

• The plane's pilot, Barry, finds himself in a third location: an underground structure, where he is subjugated by a self-styled magician', Hamish. Hamish informs Barry (a bdsm dom in his private life) that he will be Hamish's boy' and orders him to a `Fuck Room'.

• In flashbacks from a year ago, after a promising and sexy first date, Seth had a disastrous second date with Abe, which involved the use of handcuffs. Seth's friend Ian (who had told him to be `aggressive' with Abe), calls to scold him about going too far and offers to try to help.

• • • • • • • • SATURDAY, DECEMBER 1 * * * * * * * *

ISLAND CENTER – PERCY

Everything had gone according to plan. The right-siders were presumably finding their way to the Phallic Tower. I'd arrived with the twelve left-siders, who were destined to join the pilot Barry underground. My husband Hamish had set his little traps in place to ensnare them. Their salient feature was a six-foot black phallus, which would plant an image on the target's retina. The brain would interpret the image as a sort of summons, drawing them inexorably to the phallus, where the trap would be sprung and Hamish could haul them in. We called them penis portals.

The penis portals weren't perfect. Fabrics and leather interfered with the signal, so the subjects had to be completely nude. During the night, Hamish's lieutenants stripped the left-siders and moved them to different locations, so that they wouldn't all find the same penis portal at the same time. The transition to the island would knock them out for about twelve hours, so they wouldn't awaken while this was carried out.

But last night, on the beach, I'd texted Hamish regarding three left-siders I was attracted to. I had a favor to ask.

• CAN WE LIMIT THE PLAN TO NINE GUYS? I'D LIKE TO TREAT THREE DIFFERENTLY.

• WHAT DO YOU HAVE IN MIND?

• ISOLATE THEM, BUT KEEP THEM CLOTHED. THEY'LL BE CONFUSED BUT THINK THEY HAVE THE RESOURCES TO GET OUT OF THIS. THEN LET ME TRACK THEM DOWN. AFTER I SEDUCE THEM, THEY'LL BE NAKED AND VULNERABLE TO A PENIS PORTAL.

• AND IF YOU CAN'T SEDUCE THEM?

• I'LL CALL FOR HELP AND YOU CAN SEND SOME GUYS TO STRIP THEM BY FORCE.

• WHAT IF YOU'RE NOT NEAR A PENIS PORTAL?

• THEY CAN BE MOVED, RIGHT?

• IF NECESSARY. WHICH LEFT-SIDERS?

• THE TWO BAHAMIANS – PIERS THOMPSON AND THEO SEBOLD. I KNOW SEBOLD'S STRAIGHT, BUT LET ME TRY.

• AND THE THIRD?

• ABE DERISIAN.

• . . . THAT'S HERRICK'S LOVER.

• IS THAT IMPORTANT?

• DERISIAN'S CRITICAL TO THE WHOLE PLAN. YOU'D BETTER DELIVER HIM.

• I WILL. I'D JUST LIKE TO TAKE HIM FOR A TEST DRIVE FIRST.

• WHEN YOU FIND ONE OF THEM, TEXT ME AND I'LL HAVE A PENIS PORTAL MOVED. IT MAY TAKE AN HOUR, THOUGH.

• I THINK I CAN KEEP THEM OCCUPIED FOR THAT AMOUNT OF TIME.

By the time I set out this morning, Hamish had already gathered three of the nine – the traps were reeling them in. They'd all be captured by mid-afternoon, if not before then. But my three could take longer.

It was a large enough island that it might take me a while to find them. So I planted a microscopic sensor in their mouths (which they would swallow without realizing it) that would alert me if I was within 500 meters of them. The sensors would be operational for about 72 hours. But I wouldn't need that long to track down my targets, surely.

I saw storm clouds beginning to form, miles away. No worries, it wouldn't affect this part of the island. I could hunt in good weather. Abe Derisian and Theo Sebold weren't in range, but Piers Thompson was close. I'd go after him first.

I'd save the delectable Derisian for last.

THE WESTERN BEACH – STAN

I looked everywhere for my clothes. Gone. Nothing. I was stark naked.

This didn't look like the same place we'd arrived at last night. And where had everyone gone? Al, Abe, the Bahamians Theo and Piers, Percy the flight attendant – how could they have abandoned me?

Regardless, I needed to get up and hunt for them. Seeing nothing on the beach, I scrambled up to the top of the sandy slope, with grass hanging over the edge due to beach erosion. Reaching the top, I saw a vast meadow full of tall grass, not unlike a field of wheat. At least it would obscure my nudity as I worked my way through it.

In the far distance there were trees and something tall and colorful peeking out over them. I couldn't tell what it was, it was just a dot of color on the horizon, but I decided to head toward it – the colorful thing must be man-made and that was good.

I walked for about five minutes when something else became visible in the distance – something dark protruding from the ground; I couldn't tell what it was. A couple of minutes later, I spotted something that was neither dark, colorful, nor distant: the upper third of a male human being, shirtless. I called out.

• Hey!

The shirtless one stopped suddenly, and jerked his head in my direction. I called out again:

• Hey!

• . . . Is that someone from the plane?

• Yes! Stan Kowalczyk!

• Stan! Hey! It's me – Al! Al Casey!

We worked our way toward each other. As soon as we got close enough to not have to shout, he said:

• Look, this is kind of embarrassing, but I don't have any clothes on.

Whatever this prank was, I was apparently not its only victim. I approached him until we were only twenty feet apart, the tall grass still obscuring our nether regions.

• I don't either, Al. I don't know what happened.

• I woke up alone. I thought you guys abandoned me. But I wasn't on the same beach we landed at. Everybody was gone, and so were my clothes.

• That's exactly what happened to me.

• What do you think happened?

• I don't know. I suspect Percy had something to do with it.

• Who's Percy?

• The flight attendant.

• Oh. Yeah, he seemed a little weird to me. Gay, too.

• I don't care if he's gay, straight, or screws farm animals. I just know he was the guy in charge, and we both wound up naked and moved.

• He's not large enough to have moved us. He must have had help.

• But why would anybody do that? I feel idiotic walking through this field without clothes on.

• Once we find some people, we can maybe get clothes. And if we find Percy, we can maybe get answers. I saw that thing in the distance, I thought I'd go there.

• Same thought. What about that black thing? What do you suppose it is?

• No idea. Let's keep going and find out.

FLASHBACK – STAN (PORTLAND) – two weeks ago

• You don't love me.

• Magda, don't be silly.

• That's your response to everything, isn't it. Magda, don't be silly. I'm just a silly woman. I must be silly because I'm a woman.

• No, you're not silly because you're a woman. You're a woman AND you're being silly.

• Thank you for clarifying.

• Why do you say I don't love you?

• It's obvious when we're in bed. You're just going through the motions.

• Am I not giving you what you want?

• That's the problem, Stan. I can see you trying to give me what I want. What about what you want? It's evident you don't want me.

• How is that evident?

• It's in your eyes. You're distant, you're not there. You're being technical. Oh, I better do this because she told me she likes that. There's no emotion, no connection, no . . . chemistry.

• So what is this leading up to? Are you saying you want a divorce?

• . . . I don't know.

• Oh, great.

• I think we should take separate vacations.

• I've already booked a week in Cartagena in three weeks.

• Yes, but your vacation starts in two weeks. Do you have anything planned for that first week?

• I figured I'd putter around, build that birdhouse you're always wanting, catch a `Blazers game.

• In other words, no. So let's put it to the test. We each take a week on our own, then spend a week together. We'll see which week we like better. But you have to go somewhere, Stan.

• Where are you going to go?

• I've always wanted to see Machu Picchu, which doesn't interest you at all. You go somewhere where you can scuba dive, you like that. Bonaire. Aruba. One of those islands off Costa Rica.

• That's not such a bad idea. Aruba sounds nice.

• And if you want to play around, maybe you should. See if you prefer home cooking.

• Are you asking for permission to play around with some handsome Peruvian guy?

• I'm not going there to find a handsome Peruvian. But I wouldn't rule it out either, and I'm not forbidding you to hook up with some hot girl you meet on the beach. Look at this as an experiment. See if the temptation strikes us. Then maybe we'll know how we really feel about each other.

• Are you saying you don't love me either?

• I'm saying I'm exploring my feelings, Stan. I think we need this time apart to sort things out. I'll go to Peru. You go to Aruba – what's the worst that could happen?

FUCK ROOM A – BARRY

Let me make something clear. I am a top, an absolute top. I had never been fucked in my life until I arrived in Hamish's domain. He made me strip – what happened to my clothes, I don't know. He fed me. And then he took me to this room and ordered me into the sling.

Straps were attached to my wrists, and to my ankles. I was suspended in the sling, my legs stretched far apart, my ass vulnerable, my hole exposed.

• I'm going to introduce you to some of my friends, Barry.

• Who? What friends? Where did they come from?

• Barry boy. Do you think yours is the first plane that crashed here? I've been collecting lieutenants.

• Lieutenants? What – are you building an army? Is this some kind of militia that -

He interrupted me by punching me in the balls. I felt my insides rushing up and I feared for a moment that I was going to vomit. I gasped for air, and for sanity.

• Dear me, you nearly upchucked, didn't you? I'll bet you wouldn't want that to happen.

• So don't hit me like that again.

• Now now, Barry. If you deserve to be punched in the balls, you'll be punched in the balls. But I don't want any messes to have to clean up. Of course, you'd have to clean it up, which means I'd have to untie you. Way too much bother. No, I think I'll take other action to make sure that doesn't happen.

He nodded to one of his `lieutenants', who stuck a ball gag into my mouth, and then wrapped a cloth gag around the outside of that, and then duct tape around THAT.

• There. That ought to hold in any impulse you have to decorate your body with the remnants of tonight's dinner. Kind of me to feed you, though, wasn't it. You see, I can be a very kind and rewarding master. If you're a good boy.

• I'mm bm m gmmm bmm.

• I'm sure you will, Barry. Yes, I've been collecting my lieutenants, one per flight, until I had the requisite number. Well, I did collect four of them from the same flight, but they were brothers and I didn't want to break up a set. I only keep one lieutenant from each flight, the rest we have fun with. Until it's their time to – well fun can come in all forms, can't it. Now, how many cocks do you think you can take, Barry? And don't say none or only one.

I held up two fingers.

• Oh, surely, you can do better than that. My favorite number is twelve, but perhaps we'll work ourselves up to that, eh? I won't be one of them, nor will my husband. But the four brothers are anxious to meet you, and – let's see, let's add in Mac and Alec and Stefan. Stefan has a nice big cock – he's really huge, I think that will be a nice finale to your initiation, don't you agree?

• Nm. Nmm sm mm-nm.

• What was that? Not so many? You best be respectful, Barry, or I'll add more to the list. Seven is a nice number, not as nice as twelve, but it's one of those classic numbers, isn't it. Now you asked me before about lube. As it turns out, I have some. Because it's your first time, I'll give you some. But don't get too used to it. Saliva's good enough most of the time. Unless you're a bad boy, in which case you get fucked dry.

• I'mm bm m gmmm bmm.

• Yes, you already said that. Don't repeat yourself. Now, let's introduce you to Mac, shall we?

Mac was well-built, handsome, and didn't look at all like a `Mac'. He looked like some kind of professional. He didn't act like it, though.

• (Mac) Oh, what a pretty pussy you have there, boy. I understand I'm going to take your virginity. Is that right?

British accent of some sort. Scottish?

• Nmm.

• Oh, you've been fucked before?

• Nmm.

• Then you're a virgin, boy. Fucking other boys doesn't count.

He smeared my waiting hole with lubricant, then thrust his thick finger deep inside. I gasped.

• Oh, come on, don't you want it nice and loose inside? Of course you do.

A finger became two. I squirmed with the unwelcome – and unique – sensation of foreign objects up my asshole. I have, in my day, put plenty of foreign objects up the assholes of my boys – highlighted by, but not limited to, my cock. They mostly delighted in it. I, at the moment, did not.

And then something larger than his finger went inside me. Jolts of pain reverberated from my ass. I could not believe the intensity of it. I was gasping, panting, trying to control, trying to manage the pain. As he slipped deeper and deeper inside me. He paused for a moment, and let me adjust.

• I don't usually do this for most of them. But Hamish says you're to be his boy, I think he wants you to get used to it. Just take a moment, feel my cock inside you. . . . Okay, that's long enough, get ready to rock.

To my surprise, the moment he took to let me adjust to the sensation of my rectum being filled did help. So that when he started drilling me, it was – well, okay, it was still awful, but not as bad as it would have been if he had just pumped me from the very first second. I got used to the sensation – sorta – of a cock pounding my innards, and thought about all the boys I'd done it to that loved it.

Mac was followed by Alec, a big man with a New York accent – I hadn't seen any little guys among Hamish's lieutenants' – but he was less fierce in his fucking, and by this time it just felt like more of the same. But in addition to fucking me, he also twisted my balls – which hurt like the devil. He was grinning when he took my nads in his fingers and squeezed them.

There followed the four brothers – Patrick, Lander, Xander, and Dane. Lander and Xander seemed to be identical twins, but Patrick decided to blindfold me, so it was just a series of disembodied cocks plowing away at my guts. I was plenty sore, though, by this time, it having been well over an hour of solid fucking.

And then, for the grand finale, I was greeted by Stefan, who untied my left wrist so that he could wrap my hand around his cock. Or try to. It wouldn't go all the way around. He teased me by tracing my fingers along his urethra, which, no doubt, stimulated him. He then shocked me by performing the same action on me – which stimulated me.

• Yeah, you like that, don't you, boy? I want you nice and hard while I drill you. And you better stay nice and hard, or I'll send you to Alec to work your balls over.

To my astonishment, Stefan's threat made me hard. I imagined myself making the same threat to one of my conquests after I had him all tied up. I have tortured many a testicle in my day. And even though it would be me suffering the consequences, I was able somehow to transfer that in my mind to my doing it to an innocent young lad. Which made me – and kept me – hard.

Because - omigod - was Hamish right about the size of Stefan's cock. It was one thing to feel it in my hand and quite another to feel it in my ass. My rectum was racked with pain so severe that, even after I'd been opened up by six men, taking him was worse than the initial penetration by Mac. And he just pushed his way in without hesitation and began fucking right away. I rocked back and forth in my sling with the force of his drilling, his powerful cock thrusting in and out like there was no tomorrow.

Finally, spent, he withdrew and I lay there, exhausted. I did not know what, if anything, was coming next. I was waiting to be released, but, blindfolded, I could see absolutely nothing.

I heard footsteps. Hamish.

• You got a solid B, Barry, bordering on B-plus. That's a pretty good grade from some tough judges. I'll turn you into a class A fuck by the time you meet the Trigger Man.

• Wmmm thm Trmmmm Mmm?

• What's the Trigger Man? He's the key to why you're here, Barry. His name is Seth Herrick. My husband's up top now hunting his boyfriend.

FLASHBACK: SETH (CLEVELAND) – November 27 to December 1, last year

• Hello?

• Seth.

• Ian. Are you calling to give me more bad advice?

• No, I'm calling to give you a second chance with Abe.

• And how are you going to accomplish that?

• Have you called him?

• I did once. He didn't answer.

• Did you leave a message?

• If you got an apology on voicemail, would it work?

• Probably not. That's why we need a second line of attack.

• You want me to send flowers or something?

• No. You're going to talk to him face to face.

• I'm not going to his apartment. I don't even know where he lives.

• Not necessary.

• Then how am I going to talk to him?

• Chance meeting.

• Wander the streets around the university until I run into him, is that your plan?

• His birthday's coming up. December first. Friday night.

• I'll buy him a diamond necklace. That should do it.

• Seth. Stop being sarcastic and negative. My friend Jason is throwing Abe a party. You're invited.

• Jason barely knows me.

• Abe doesn't know that. The whole reason I know about you and Abe is because Jason saw you at Studs and Stripes. It was Abe's first time there, but Jason's been there a lot. So – if he asks how you know Jason – you and Jason became friends at Studs and Stripes.

• That seems a bit dishonest.

• All's fair in love and sex.

• That's not quite how the saying goes.

• Then think of it as war. You have a mission – the pursuit and conquest of one Abraham Derisian. Only it's his heart you want to conquer, not just his ass. Remember that. I'll brief you and Jason on enough personal details about each other to make you seem like casual friends.

• Close enough to invite me to a birthday party of HIS friend?

• Jason saw you together. He doesn't know about the disaster. He thought he'd surprise Abe by having you there.

• It'll be a surprise, all right.

And it was. Not a pleasant one. Abe's nostrils flared when he spotted me.

• What are you doing here?

• Jason invited me. I'm a friend of his.

• You're not a friend of mine.

• Look, Abe, I'm sorry. I misread you completely. PLUS I was following some really bad advice.

That seemed to give him pause.

• Bad advice? What does that mean?

• I was talking to a friend, and I was telling him how special you were. He told me to be aggressive.

• You were that, all right.

• I blew it, okay? I totally blew it. I wanted to impress you, he told me you wanted that sort of thing, that it would turn you on.

• How the hell did he get that idea?

• He . . . mentioned something about a slave auction?

Abe turned a bright color of red.

• Oh, god, that. That was a year ago – yeah, I did that. For charity. Someone saw me there?

• Jason.

• And you thought I was into all that BDSM stuff?

• Yeah.

• Well, I kinda sorta could be. But the handcuffs freaked me out, Seth.

• I know. I know I know I know. I went too far. Way too far. I totally misjudged the situation. I've never done anything like that before.

• Those handcuffs just materialized in your nightstand?

• No. Listen, I've got a history. I was married, I had kids, it . . . well, the short version of the story is that it ended because I started seeing a guy. And the guy was into all sorts of kinky stuff. Only he was the dom, and I was the sub. Those were his handcuffs.

That was the short version, all right.

• How long ago was this?

• Four years ago.

• And you still have his handcuffs?

• I was going to give them back. I thought he'd collect them. He never did. I haven't seen him since. He just disappeared, I don't even know if he's still in Cleveland. Honest – I'd almost forgotten I had them. And then when my friend said that –

• Who is this friend?

• No one you know. But he has a friend who knows you.

• A friend you call on for rape advice.

• I deserve that, I know. But you were hard during the whole thing, I thought you liked it.

There was a pause.

• Well, . . . I kinda did.

• . . . What?

• I kinda did. But I was just insulted that you ignored everything I was saying.

• Are you telling me that no' meant yes'?

• Unh-uh. No' meant no', Seth, it will always mean `no'. If you'd been upfront with me, if we'd agreed beforehand, then maybe . . . maybe I would have consented. But you just leaped at me with those handcuffs and crushed me with your body. I couldn't move. I felt so disrespected.

• You were never disrespected, Abe. Misinterpreted, yes. You were presented with a jerk who thought he knew what you wanted, and he should have just damn asked instead of assuming. The truth is – and this is the absolute truth – I barely know Jason. My friend wangled this invitation so I could talk to you.

• . . . I see.

• I've been doing nothing this past week but thinking about you. Thinking about how much I wanted to get to know you. I don't mean sexually. I mean as a person. I said at the start of this conversation that you were special. You ARE special, Abe. I'll . . . I'll do anything you want if you'd just give me a second chance. If you wouldn't shut the door. I don't know how to make amends for what I did – I know I can't. I don't expect you to forgive and forget. But maybe you could just take last Saturday night and put it on a shelf somewhere and we could start over.

• That sounds a lot like `forgive and forget'.

• No. We'd always be in the same room with the shelf. It will be there looking at us, judging us. Judging ME. I . . . I like you so much, Abe. I want to see you again.

There was a long pause. He saw the moistness in my eyes, and that seemed to have some effect on him.

• How about this, Seth? We have a non-sex date.

• Okay.

• We go to a movie, we have a drink. Or a coffee, doesn't matter. We just talk. We don't go back to your place or my place. We don't kiss. We don't even touch. We just find out if we like each other enough to want to have another date – and maybe that one doesn't involve sex either.

• Yes. I'm all in.

• To be honest, I had such mixed feelings afterwards. I was confused. I wanted you and I hated you. And I would like to want you and like you. I'm just not sure if that's possible.

• Pick the date, time, and movie. Text me with the details; as long as it's not during my workday, I'm there. And if you want more than coffee or a drink, like dinner, pick the restaurant. It's on me.

• Of course it's on you, asshole.

But he said that with a smile.

THE PHALLIC TOWER - SETH

The thunder intensified. The walls of the tower were too thick for us to hear the actual rain, but a quick peek out the door indicated it was coming down in sheets. I wondered if the slit at the top of the phallus would let the rain in, but apparently it was sealed up there; we remained dry.

I considered the ten men with me. My hormones were going wild. There was definitely an erotic charge to the atmosphere. Jasper exuded testosterone like lava spilling out of a volcano – he just couldn't hold it in. Paul was almost a balding version of Abe – small and incredibly fuck-worthy. Dai turned me on. Lucas was a stud. Not to mention adorably innocent Augie, horny Ray, and he-man Vic. Tim? He was probably straight, but if there were no one else in the room, I could get turned on by Tim.

Which left Ed and Harry. Ed was a bundle of nerves, worrying about Leo, not in the mood to talk. I found myself migrating toward Harry – the only person in the room I could talk to about the greater mystery without being distracted by signals coming from my balls.

• (Harry) You know this floor pattern is the same shape as we found in the woods. The one that drove Cody crazy.

• Cody was already crazy. I think he's really Ray.

• Unless he's really Gary. Cody mentioned two Onslows.

• Multiple personality?

• I think so. They call it dissociative identity disorder now. Cody didn't remember anything about the plane. He said the Onslows brought him here. On the plane he was one of them, and then the Cody personality took over when we arrived on the island. The shock of the plane breaking apart made him retreat into a less aggressive personality.

• Less aggressive? Cody's not exactly shy.

• Well, maybe less sexual. You can't deny there's something sexual about this island, Seth. This place could be named Pheromone Island. Maybe Cody's asexual as a retreat from Ray.

• Then what is Gary like?

• We haven't seen Gary yet. I suspect he's the actual person. My guess is that something happened to him and he developed Ray, but Ray was too overtly sexual and so he developed Cody as a safe retreat. But those two personalities dominate.

• Interesting. But you were saying about the floor pattern.

• Yes. A twelve-sided figure, called a dodecagon. Have you noticed, Seth, how often that number comes up? There were twelve of us on the right side of the plane. There were also twelve on the left side. There were twelve cities on that map. We've run across two twelve-sided polygons. The tower is painted in twelve colors. And – not to be overlooked – we were on Flight 12.

• And your grand conclusion from this confluence of coincidences?

• I haven't the foggiest. But there are too many twelves for it to be purely circumstantial. There is a design to this island. It revolves around the number twelve. And it revolves around sex. And I think it might even –

Our conversation was interrupted when the door suddenly opened. In came a scraggly, extremely wet young man, his red hair matted down, every inch of his clothing soaked through.

• Leo!

Ed rushed to embrace his missing son. Harry had an `I told you so' look on his face.

• (Leo) Dad, I'm all wet. You'll get all wet.

• (Ed) I already am. Oh, Leo, thank God you're alive.

• (Leo) Wow, that's the first time you've ever said THAT. So . . . did the whole plane survive? This doesn't look like everybody.

• The whole right side. We haven't seen anyone from across the aisle.

We caught Leo up on our various adventures and he related his own, which seemed unremarkable until he related that he had, on his journey, passed plane wreckage.

• (Leo) But it wasn't our plane. The seats were beige.

Beige. Not gray. Not blue. Not red. How many planes had crashed on this island? I looked at Harry and asked him that question. He shrugged and ventured a guess:

• Twelve?

A MEADOW – STAN

Al and I threaded our way carefully through the tall grass. Now that we knew we were both naked, there was no need to hide our bodies from each other. The ground was soft enough that it didn't hurt our feet, though we had to step carefully. We'd seen storm clouds in the distance, but here it remained dry.

We were approaching the black thing poking out of the vegetation. As we neared it, we saw that it was actually at the back of a semi-circular area where the grass was barely half an inch high. But well before we could see the short grass, we could tell what it was we were looking at. But, like so much else that had befallen us since we left Miami, it made no sense.

It was a phallus. It was the image of an erect penis, over six feet high, out of some polished black stone like onyx. It was immaculate in terms of its detail. If you had used it as the model for a dildo, you could not have chosen better. But it would have to be a dildo for an elephant.

I felt a compulsion to move closer, to check it out.

• What do you think, Al? I'd think it was left over from some kind of ancient fertility cult, but –

• It's not ancient, is it? It looks polished, not like, you know, eroded or something.

• I've heard of things like this – my wife mentioned a so-called fertility garden in Peru that she wanted to see. Stone images of erect penises arranged in a little area like a garden. Apparently people worshipped them in hopes of increasing their chances of having children.

• Whoever made this was probably somebody like that. It's strange, but at least it's a sign that there are people here.

• It's weird. I mean, I'm straight, but somehow I find this beautiful.

• I know what you mean. I do too. You want to touch it?

• Yeah. I don't know why, but I do.

Entering the semi-circle was like stepping out of the woods into a clearing. But it wasn't a natural clearing.

• (Al) This is like a manicured lawn. Someone's mowed the –

He never finished that sentence. For a foot away from him, a little black phallus popped up out of the ground. Little only compared to the big one – it seemed about the size of a normal human cock. It had sprung up out of the ground like a flower emerging from the ground in spring, only in fast-motion.

• What the - ?

Another penis sprung out of the ground a few inches away. Moments later we were in a garden of penises, varying from five to eight or nine inches in length, and approximating my own in diameter.

Five of them, then ten, then twenty, thirty, fifty of them, surrounding us so quickly that we could scarcely move.

• Let's get out of here.

But it was too late. There were so many that there was not enough space to walk in between the dildos. You couldn't move without stepping on one or more of them. And they were not all the same height. Being naked, our feet were bare. The penises being uneven and with knobby tips, to try to walk on them was painful and impossible to keep your balance.

What was more, the phalluses around the outer edge of the semi-circle suddenly sprang up to our own height. They didn't not grow in width, only in height, forming a long tube with a cockhead at the end – almost like the extension of a vacuum cleaner with the world's oddest attachment.

This would have been amusing except that they abutted each other, blocking our path. Al managed to crawl to the edge and tried to climb the `wall' but could not get a grip, as there was no space between the penis shafts to get anything to hold on to. Worse, whenever he touched one of the border penises, it shot even higher into the air, now nearly ten feet high.

We were trapped.

Not that I was doing any better. The penises in my immediate vicinity had risen to chest height, penning me in so that I could not move. Al was not so closely confined and could still move around the circle, though with the uneven cockheads, it was impossible for him to keep his balance, and he fell, flat on his stomach. A group of phalluses rose underneath him, pushing him up to nearly eye-level. I looked on hopelessly as he was lifted like a car undergoing repairs in a mechanic's garage.

Then a second set of phalluses pushed against his chest, rushing up suddenly to tip him backwards; simultaneously, those under his abdomen contracted, flipping him backwards, positioning him to land smack on his ass. But he didn't land. Before he reached the surface, a perfectly positioned phallus sprang up to meet him and speared him directly, penetrating his anus.

• Stan, help me! Help me! This thing is up my ass!

Like I couldn't see that. I watched in horror as the phallus lifted him up ten, twelve feet in the air, anally impaling him, his arms and legs waving wildly as he tried to free himself from the sodomizing pole.

But there was nothing I could do. I was literally surrounded by pole-phalluses that were up to my chest. It was like being stuck inside a barrel. I couldn't get out. I couldn't lift a finger to help.

Al continued to scream in panic and in pain as the pole raised him higher and higher, so that he was now nearly thirty feet in the air. And then higher, maybe sixty feet up, looking like a human flagpole. And then he started to scream even louder.

The black phallus turned slowly red and started to glow.

• It's burning me! Oh my god it's like fire up my ass! Somebody help me! Help me!

But then the red pole turned back to black and I saw a look of relief on Al's face – well, semi-relief, because he was still impaled high in the air, but no longer, it seemed, with the sensation of a red hot poker up his ass.

Red hot pokers up his ass. Wasn't there some English king who was killed that way? I don't remember it in Dante, but it seemed like a torture that preachers warned would greet us in hell. Were we in hell? Was it Al's fate to be sodomized by oversized penises?

Just as suddenly, he began to descend. Slowly at first, and then faster and faster until he was whizzing toward the ground.

And through it. As he hurtled toward the surface the ground underneath the penis collapsed inward, like a sinkhole. And Al disappeared into the earth; a moment later, ground appeared, blank ground, not covered by penises at all. The ring of tall shafts around the large circle had also contracted and vanished into the ground.

The only penises left were a single row surrounding me, blocking me from even six inches of movement.

And then I felt it. Rising up from the ground beneath, it was in the exact right place to spear me between my cheeks. Before I knew it, I was as anally impaled as Al had been and rising toward the sky.

[COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER SEVEN – SOMEONE CAPTURED, SOMEONE REVEALED]