The Ring
Like, were my desires so outlandish that no one would ever respond to my needs? I couldn't see that. Lots of men like worse things than I do. Or was it that the one who would respond was somewhere at the other end of the universe with no chance of our ever meeting?
Like, when I see a beautiful arse is it so strange that I want to worship it in my own peculiar way and without stuffing my cock into its hole? Or see a beautiful cock and not want to necessarily suck it?
I began to realise that I wanted to be totally in control of this man-object and not have his wishes get in the way of mine. I began to fantasize.
Like, his arse was a dream, ripe, full, soft, unblemished. He would stand there with his hands against the wall, showing me his arse. He's wearing a tee shirt, which he is holding up. He has briefs on but they are pulled up into his arse crack the better to reveal those curving buns. He's around his early twenties, mixed race, softest sweetest brown colour with glowing flawless skin.
He's looking round at me with enquiring eyes, but he is not speaking. I want some pregnant silence, just a slow clock ticking. I think he might be a little alarmed, just a little bit afraid.
Like, I want to gently stroke that rounded arse. Nah, your OK, no rough stuff, nothing in that for me. Plenty of menace but no danger. Like I might just lean against you as you lean against the wall and let my cock rest along your crack. Keep facing me and looking in my eyes. You have big wide lips and I want to put my lips softly against them. But don't react and don't initiate, just accept.
This is how we stand, me behind you, you looking round but not speaking and not moving. My cock pressing closer against you and my mouth on yours. Your submission is my aphrodisiac. Your acceptance makes me love you even more.
Then the two are three. Your twin stands behind me echoing my stance. His cock just gently nudging my hole, his soft fingers brushing my nipples, his face lightly touching mine. Sweet scent of aftershave to turn me on.
But both of you to be my willing slaves. Like how I wish that I could build a totally lifelike robot which would only do what I desired. One which would know my every wish, foreseeing and fulfilling.
Slow, calm sex, no grunting and no thrashing. Soft slow calm sex to fill an afternoon just as winter starts, the sun down low, a touch of chill against the outside air. The air in here is warm. Wide windows look across the lawns and winter-coloured woods before the leaves have totally forsaken the trees. No one in the world besides us three. Perhaps we live upon a distant planet crafted to fulfil all my desires, a private haven unvisited by others, ours alone.
A largely silent life, just the slow ticking of the ancient clocks and a soughing of wind against the ancient walls and roofs. And these two boys to do my every wish, an old man's dream, an outcast's dream, the dream of the recluse.
Myself additionally robotised, fresh flesh upon my ancient frame, a manly answer to the two boys'dream, if robots after all can dream. Because they have to answer desire with desire, desiring me just as I need them.
And, for a really futuristic science-fantasy, the ability to morph, to answer each others current requirements and dream, so that I look in the mirror when I am with my two boys and find that I have thick blond shoulder- length hair, an enormous chest and an incredibly small waist and the biggest cock man ever held in his hands.
They too are changeable and at the merest whim, sometimes amazing myself with conjured images I never knew were in my mind.
But I return to the first image, the boy leaning against the wall and his twin brother behind me. That is how our games must always start while the coloured autumn leaves fall from the trees beyond the windows. In this, the whole of desire is gathered into one still centre.
Half-turned toward me, I feel his breath upon my face, his mouth half- open. I become a skin maggot, a feeding parasite and he my favourite host. I crawl across his soft brown skin and in all his hidden places I suck ambrosia from every pore. Skin and soul maggot, for it is the soul which is the creature's goal, could he but find it. Soul or self, which hide behind the body's facade. And you would think that in this robot there was nothing but emptiness between the vital parts. I thought that too.
At night beside me in my wakeful hours, both wakeful with me when my mind is set. Just three creatures in this world of space, of planet and star. Not another sentient being a light-year near. These three my meditation and my task. Always murmuring "Master." To which I answer "Peace, be still."
And while the three moons slowly wheel one about the other two, and other two about the one, the sound of breathing and of ticking clocks and triple heartbeats in the greenish gloom is what my mind must feed upon to save it feeding on itself. Until once more we change and try a different pattern of the flesh.
In the day we drive out to the ruins, the city covering the plain between two hills, smashed pillars and a fallen dome and endless broken streets. No bird sings, no voice is heard but ours, and ours are hushed. Whose strange mind has strewn it here? I have not made it and I do not think the boys are capable of such a feat. Or is it self created, several programmes overlapping and taking on artistic vision? Our machines are powerful, sometimes I think too powerful to be controlled.
The fallen dome in the temple has smashed their idols, the great golden image crushed beyond recognition. Was it a man or a beast? Its half a face has something monstrous and the boys will not go near it. There is a flight of stairs, intact, leading downward. I have promised myself to investigate one day, but the boys are afraid, kissing my hands and arms and dragging me away.
Even in the temple he leans against the wall and looks around. I stand behind him and seek his hardening cock, my mouth breathing against his as he closes his eyes. I so easily forget my hasty vow of chastity as my monstrous member starts to probe his arse and the other boy behind me fills me too with gorgeous inches of his massive tool. The coupling lasts an hour but on our cool flesh no moisture appears and we are never satiated after multiple orgasms. I lie in the shade beneath a many-branching tree and probe my tongue into his sensuous mouth, while his brother sucks me off again and again and drinks my flowing cum from a silver bowl he has unearthed. We join lips at the chased rim and softly tongue the fluid.
The coloured leaves are falling but the trees are never bare.
Last night it seemed that there were four of us, not three. The stranger seemed familiar though unseen but for a darker outline on the dark. The boys mumbled in their torpor and I kissed them into quietness, saying "Sleep." It was as if the stranger nodded before departing. I have the feeling that he might return.
This place that I have made does not always seem as if it's mine. These boys, the issue of my desiring mind, and myself (the body's tissue also self-created) have a strangeness and a separate life. The creator is superseded by what he's made, is sucked into the vortex of his work. Perhaps the longing that I had was too impure, the mixture soured.
Now even the landscape's changing. I have checked the programmes and cannot find the fault. The system is evolving on its own. How soon before it's totally out of control?
The trees are sprouting fresh leaves, unfurling luxuriance that cannot be abated. Soon my autumn landscape will be gone, overtaken by this illegal spring. And I am overtaken by the weather and my emotions and my needs. It seems my cock is never tired now. Feresh and Ahshawn, my two boys, can hardly keep up with me. "Master," they say admiringly, "is such a man." I kiss them for their flattery; but that kiss is prelude to another bout of rut.
They too have grown enormous appetites. "Master," says Feresh," your cock is never big enough for me. Make your dickhead bigger and your foreskin larger and your weapon longer."
He smiles and leans against the wall and I can hardly believe that he can take this monster dick he's saddled me with. I have to push and strain to get it in but he only demands more and more until we are covered in massive amounts of cum. His arse bulges obscenely either side of this mega meat and yet he sucks it in. I fuck him for two hours at a time, my tool inside him up against the wall.
But what are the thoughts in my brain and in theirs? Ahshawn says "We are your creatures, Master, and our desires are yours." And as he said that the two of them began making love to each other in the most passionate way, just because the idea flicked randomly through my bemused mind. It was so beautiful to see these beautiful twin creatures so lovingly and sexually entwined. And then of course I had to join them there. I may even, for a moment, have actually become one of them, Feresh or Ahshawn, I cannot remember.
How can the creator become what he has created?
Feresh is looking at me now again and I know what he wants. He stares so hard that suddenly our positions change and I am him looking at myself. My Master is so beautiful. Thick long blond curling hair, a mane of gold reaching to his waist. The shoulders of a god - indeed, he is a god. Blue- black eyes in which a boy can drown and drowning find he has the better life. The thighs of a hero, the cock and balls of a stud-horse, dripping cum.
When Master serves me all my gates are open, my mind released. "Ahshawn, brother-lover, we are his. We are growing daily closer. Soon shall the three be one."
But at the corner of my eye I see the fourth. When three are one, the fourth steps out to conquer a willing world.
I stand behind him. His breath is in my face. I feel his heartbeat beating in myself. The monstrous tool is piercing him. Pain becomes his sweetness and his service. My hand is wet upon his swollen cock. The other stands behind me, enters me. We become one single living flame. The mirror is turned to the mirror. An avenue of interlocking bodies, stretching to infinity. Infinity is round. The bodies lock. This is the ring of eternity. We are the Ring. The fourth is reaching out. He takes the ring and slips it on his finger.
Any comments welcome at emenos@btinternet.com