Organization: Arora
Mazed.1/2 by davistrell@aol.com
My nosy neighbor, Brian knocked on my door. In his hand he had my copy of Out, brown paper wrapped subscription, but the cover was exposed, revealing the issue's contents, and Brian impudently asked asked if I had more copies, as he found the sight of naked men enthralling: I have the entire collection in my closet. He lay on my sofa, perusing the copies, turned to explore the sight of men's bodies indulging in intercourse, wondering how do they do that? He asked if I happened to have any Gay videos? He seemed eager to learn. No, but I do have an interactive CD. That he might find interesting. Choose to be a character, slave, father, priest, jock, stepson or brother, lots a choices. Choose a partner, Bear, Master, Twink, Animaniac etc. Answer a questionnaire and the computer will assign you a role.
Brian chose to be 22 years old, cute, preppy, slim, with boyish brown hair and blue eyes that smouldered, who likes to be tidy and wants to help around the house with the cleaning chores.
I chose to be the Minator, with bull head and bull dick, stomping hooved feet and possessing the hairy chest of a WCW wrestler.
On the island of Themiscrya; we wrote the scenario, interactively, just making it up, as we went along.
He was chained to a post in the ampitheater, the skimpy white chiton barely covering his quivering body. We'd chosen the computer to, also have a personality, so our game wouldn't get too predictable.
I found myself in clammy wet darkness, behind a barred gate, but could see through the slats, the prize waiting for me in the arena. A chain rattled and moved, raising the portcullis of my dungeon. I was blinded by the unaccustomed white light, but as my eyes got used to its glare, I could see a multitude of spectators in the doric-columned bleachers, cheering me on. I snorted through bovine nostrils, and inhaling the aroma of virtual reality boysweat. The flags waved, emblazoned with Penis Rampant, gold on a field of baby-blue. The lousy speakers on my system made the fanfare and drum roll, comic as my RAM fought to load the extra megabytes.
A blast of light tore in the sky, crackling lightning. A soft explosion and the computer character joined the scene. Totally naked save for a gilt helmet, golden colored, shining like chrome, with a platinum cockring and copper embossed pubic hair. The Golden Phallus: we'd met before. I bellowed my challenge: "Winner get Boy!"
His sleek shiny supple body glistened in the hot twin suns as he approached, his torso tensed with muscles, his haunches squat, ready to leap. I urged him to get nearer so I could wrap my massive burly arms out and squish him, squeeze him, generally roughen him up. We stalked in a circle round each other, waiting for the least break in the other's concentration.
The scene switched as Brian hit the function key that showed the drama from his point of view.
Tied as he was to the onyx-marbled column, bound with rust-iron chains and the wind whipping his frail white tunic, exposing the luscious-pink parts of his ivory white body, nipples and genitals and cupid bow lips, but afforded no glimpse of his cherry pink boyhole, as he kept his thighs locked together as his ankles were bound in white leather, soaked thoroughly, so as they dried in the sun, shrunk and got tighter. Even the flowers on his floral headband had started to wilt.
He had to use two precious ounces, of the thirty fluid ounces of sperm from the SpermBank, so when he had finished licking his lips, gaining strength from the cum, his bonds disappeared and faded from view. He sat in the beige sand and undid the straps round his ankles, took off the soiled chiton, and ran to the side of the arena, leapfrogging a bellicose guard, and found freedom on the otherside of the wall.
The Phallus and I struck up a truce, he flew up in the air, he'd got the boy in sight so I roared on, intent on his capture, I had to get there first. "Winner get Boy!", after all.
I was thinking of visiting the SpermBank, to get more vitality when I noticed the Black Knight. I charged at him, Half-man, half beast, half paladin; I tackled him, grabbing him by the codpiece. I drank all his cum that he donated unwillingly as I sucked out his life, the barometer on his Sperm Bank dwindled out and was added to mine.
I collected his weapon, the sword "Stormbringer" and ran through the orchard into the Hellespont maze.
The Golden Phallus flew high up above. Using a measure of LifeForce, I requested a flying dragon, leapt on its back and took the battle to the skies, with clouds red, like ropeburns on a pale blue-veined horizon, soft as gooseflesh, I brandished my sword and sunk it into the abdomen of the godlike Phallus and he plunged to the earth. His lifeforce added to mine: I couldn't lose.
The dragon's foul breath, was turning my stomach so we landed, and the green garden was sprinkled with gold cracked eggshell-like fragments, I drank greedily on the raw yolk. The SpermBank counter went crazy, and Brian realised he'd taken on more than he could chew.
He hit the Pause button and took my cock in his mouth. I wanted more adventure so hit the Resume button and the movie progressed where the runaway slave boy, hidden in the center of the maze, convinced he was safe took a timeout. He needed to add more lifeforce, so he started jacking himself off till his barometer increased with a SpermCount of a healthier size. His eyes latched onto the most central flagstone. Lifted up the portal and slipped into the cavernous spiral stairway, leading to the next level, below.
I was lost in the maze, unable to fight my way out. Brian had come away from my cock, started watching the screen, wondering where his character would end up. A labyrinth jewel cave, that sparkled with wealth. He dressed himself in pearl necklaces, put rings on each finger, rolled over showered with booty, on topaz coloured cushions and shrieked with delight.The eroticism of money, a basic human need.
If Brian hadn't been so caught up, in his fiscal orgiastic ecstasy he might've noticed, that King Rat had crept into the room.
Meanwhile back at my dilemma. In this brickfaced dungeon lit only by a single smouldering flame, due no doubt to be extinguished any second, I came face to face with three gilt handled phalli, flaccid, semi-hard and grew flagrantly erect. The uncoiling handles, I had to pick one; I pulled on the second golden dick, and a trapdoor opened, and I fell down a tunnel, and was ejected onto level three, only slightly worse for wear; positioned as I was, I had a view on the scene below. The Rats had surrounded young Brian and were poised for the kill. Pink-eyed. whiskers bristling, noses sniffing, tails swishing, the older one moved forward, teeth bared, ready to go for the throat. I leapt down on the leader, broke his back, and turned to face the remainder of the rat pack.
Brian whispered, by the computer's green glow, save me, save me, and I held him close, and he sat on my lap as I made my next move.
I grabbed hold of two rodents, and crushed them together, till their bodies were broken and the others slinked off.
"That's some kind of game," he said.
"Real life, isn't so different."
"But you ain't a bull..."
"You ain't no precious virgin either, are you?"
"Never took it up the ass before..."
"Before?"
"Before tonight....."
The ScreenSaver kicked in. A montage wall-paper, of a handsome hunk, sporting an erection, similar to mine, similar to Brian's.
We fell to the floor, clothes came off, and I was holding him, he was pulling, I turned, and went for gold, and penetrating him, heard a sound that did not sound too unlike a modem's squeal.
We played the game again, took on different roles, different scenario, and each time, we beat the computer.