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 =======================================================