Introduction - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five








----- The Dichotomous Pentacle, Part Four: The Earthling -----

"For long years I have kept this beauty within me. It has been my life. It is sacred. I give it now that coming generations may know its truth...." --Diné, Sandoval's Prayer, translated by Aileen O'Brien


I was waking up from a dream. "Two-by-five... two-by-five..." these words were drifting through my mind as i lay with my eyes closed. What had i been dreaming about? In my barely conscious state, i thought i had been listening to someone singing to me, but i didn't know what they meant: "Two-by-five." There had been twin images in my dream, reminding me of a painting that a friend had shown me years ago: a picture of Themis and Thetis, mythological characters who bring dreams and ideas to inspire the minds of mortals. "Two-by-five." The dream was fading away now. I opened my eyes and realized that i had been napping, perhaps for several hours.

My name is Kevin, and i live with my friend Tony. I had been sleeping on his bed, and he was sitting there next to me, watching television. As i became fully awake, i told Tony, "I was just dreaming that someone was singing to me. But now i can't remember what their song was about." The room was dimly lit, and the clock said that it was very late in the evening. The date was Monday, March 10th, 2003, and there were only a couple of hours remaining until Tuesday. I don't have a very regular schedule of sleeping, and i tend to nap frequently. I had been feeling somewhat exhausted earlier that day, but the nap had refreshed me. I lay beside Tony, touching him affectionately as we relaxed quietly. "I'm horny," i said, "what about you?"

"Yeah, baby," he laughed, "I've got something for you." He mischievously pulled the sheets down and revealed his uncut penis which was semi-hard. He pulled downward on his scrotum, stretching it gently. I grasped the base of his shaft with one hand, causing his foreskin to retract a little. I've been friends with Tony for many years, and i know that if you want him to get really hard, all you have to do is suck his dick. I shifted on the bed, sliding down so i could press my face to his crotch, as he put a hand gently on the back of my head. Tony's usually a very hygienic fellow, and his foreskin almost never smells cheesy. I put my mouth on the tip of his cockhead, tasting a hint of perspiration, enjoying his familiar faint odor. As i licked and sucked gently, he grew harder and longer. When fully erect, his cock has a curvature, causing it to point in the direction of his navel. I wrapped my fingers around his scrotum and slowly tugged on his nuts while continuing to slurp happily on the first few inches of his cock. With one hand, he pulled most of his foreskin downward toward the base of his shaft, exposing the glans fully; with his other hand, he gently gripped the back of my head, pressing my face onto his groin as his dick tried to reach into my throat.

I held my breath as much as possible, swallowing him eagerly, trying to fuck my throat with his dick without gagging. He was really hard now as i sniffled and drooled, slobbering hungrily on as much as i could take. Coming up for air, i said longingly, "I'd really like to get fucked." Turning on my side, i backed my ass up against his groin, pushing toward his curved boner. I put a couple fingers to my mouth to wet them with my saliva, then put them on my asshole. I could feel his moist cock pushing up against me. I bent one leg and lifted it a little to give us the best angle for penetration, and he easily slid into me, one inch, two inches, three...

"Yeah, you've got a hot ass," he growled as he pulled my body firmly against his. The hair on his chest rubbed against my back and he kissed my shoulder and behind my ear. Carefully, he pushed his cock further until it was all the way in. "Your ass is so nice," he whispered. Tony always pays me compliments when we play, he's very generous with his affection. He wrapped one arm around me and caressed one of my nipples as we lay sideways. I focused on relaxing, accepting his cock, trying not to bear down and squeeze it out, i wanted it in me so much. Building up a slow rhythm, he gyrated his hips against the cheeks of my ass, pulling his cock halfway out, then sliding it all the way back in, over and over. I moaned and grunted as our breathing increased in pace. He continued fucking me in this position for quite some time, kissing me and praising me, shushing me when my moans became louder. "Yeah, baby," he laughed, "that's so good!"

I wanted to change position. I know that one of the fastest ways to bring Tony to orgasm is to let him fuck me from behind. If i'm face down when he's pumping me, or on my hands and knees doggy-style, it's hard for him to hold back, and that really turns me on. I craved his semen, wanted him to pump it into me, wanted him to squirt it inside my tight ass. I wiggled and shifted on the bed, making him pull out momentarily as i went face-down. Then i drew myself up onto my hands and knees, face pressed down into the pillows and ass pointed up in the air at him. Kneeling behind me, he pressed the head of his cock up against my hole, then popped it in. "Oh yeah, you know i love that," he groaned, grinding up against me. He slid his cock in and out, each piston stroke getting slightly faster. "You know you're gonna make me cum this way," he intoned. I squeezed and bounced my ass back up against him, wishing for his cum to flow into me, as he pumped with increasing speed. "I can't hold back for long," he said.

"I want it," i moaned plaintively, "i want you to cum in me, baby, yeah, i want to be full of your cum." He was pounding against my backside furiously now as we panted with exertion.

"You want it now? You want it in your tight little ass now?" he sneered.

"Oh yes, please, yes... please, can i have it...?" i was begging, whimpering, breathing quickly as he gripped my hips and slammed into me again and again.

"Yeah... you like that... I'm cummin' in your ass now! I'm cummin' in your hot ass..." he groaned. His cock was throbbing inside me, unleashing his sticky cum, disseminating his fluids inside me as my ass sucked them up hungrily. His thrusts slowed, and he kept his cock buried deep as he moaned and sighed happily. I love it when my friend Tony pumps me full of cum. It's one of my favorite things to do.

Eventually he withdrew his sticky penis from me, his creamy load sticking to my ass-crack and his foreskin. We collapsed on the bed with satisfaction, catching our breath. "I love you, sweetie."

"I love you too."

We lay together for a minute, panting, sweating, satiated for a while. I reached for the paper towels under the shelf near his bed and tore a couple off. Passing one to him, i used the other to wipe the crack of my ass. "Well, fortunately, my ass was pretty clean this evening," i said cheerfully. "Nothing in there but your cum now!" i laughed.

He rose and went into his bathroom, turned on the tap and proceeded to wash his genitals. He's somewhat conscientious about that, being uncircumcised. As he cleaned himself casually, we chatted. "Are you hungry?" he asked.

"Not at all," i replied. "My body-clock is completely off. I know it's almost midnight, but i feel like it's morning. How long did i nap?"

He looked at the clock. "At least three hours, maybe more. I'm going to have a snack, then i'm going to watch some more TV and go to bed." He finished his ablutions and came back to the bedroom.

"I don't have any appetite," i said. "But i do feel pretty well-rested. I think i'll probably be up all night now. Hmmm... maybe this would be a good night to hose out my ass and get some exercise with a few of my favorite toys." I was referring to my dildos and other playthings. "I think i'm going to make myself some coffee and enjoy a night of playtime and meditation."

"Good for you," he smiled. "That's what your hot ass needs-- something really thick to stretch it wide open!" He was always encouraging me like that.

We went to the kitchen. I washed up briefly at the sink, then retrieved the items from the cupboards for making coffee. As Tony rummaged through the refrigerator and assembled some items to munch, i asked, "So you're going to sleep soon and you're sure you don't want me to make any coffee for you?"

"No thanks, sweetie, none for me," he replied. I proceeded to brew a pot of Colombian, flavored with vanilla and orange extracts, with a dash of cardamom in the grinds for a special aromatic richness that i love. Caffeine, like many stimulants (amphetamines, ephedrine, et cetera) has a bitter flavor. But i always mask it by serving mine with lots of cream and sugar. I sat down at my computer, sipping from my mug, while Tony finished his snacks. As the stimulating beverage seeped into my body, i sorted through correspondence from friends, news articles, and my usual daily trivia. The articles were reminding me of impending war in foreign lands, and i just wanted to shut out those thoughts from my awareness; so i abandoned the drudgery from the associated press, and turned my mind to entertainment. I listened to a broadband audio stream from NetMusique, and one song in particular caught my attention with its pleasant melody. I clicked on the audio player to determine the song's title: it was called "Doctor X Fucks Like a Beast" by a group calling themselves Doctor Zaius. I was unfamiliar with this group, but made a mental note to pay attention for them in the future. I was unsure of the meaning of the reference to 'Doctor X', but i did remember that the name 'Doctor Zaius' referred to a character in the movies about The Planet of the Apes.

After Tony finished in the kitchen, he retired to his bedroom, lounging on his bed again in front of the television. I put my computer to sleep and decided that i would spend some time in my bathroom with the enema hose, my 'Shower Shot'. "I'm going to play some music on the stereo in the side room," i told Tony. The side room and my adjoining bathroom were at the other end of the apartment away from Tony's quarters, so we could enjoy ourselves in privacy without disturbing each other.

"Okay, Sweetie," he replied, and blew me a kiss as he so often does. We wished each other good night, and he closed his door.

I sifted through the stacks of music discs on my shelves, looking for something to play during my ablutions. The earlier reference to The Planet of the Apes reminded me of another musical artist, one whom i've enjoyed for several years, called Cornelius. The real name of this multi-talented Japanese gentleman with a wacky sense of humor is Keigo Oyamada. He has a playful style which crosses many genres of sound. In many of his songs, he too makes references to the movies about The Planet of the Apes, and he likes to call himself Cornelius as a tribute to another character in those tales. He often makes little jokes about chimpanzees and humans, and the sleeves of his albums are littered with little cartoons and graphics that poke fun at the primate behavior of our species. So i made a selection from the stacks of compact discs: "POINT by Cornelius from Nakameguro to Everywhere". This was an album that Tony had given to me the previous year, and it has many catchy hooks, interesting rhythm tracks, and wild sound effects. I was feeling playful and whimsical, so it seemed like the perfect thing to accompany me as i adjourned to my bathroom to cleanse my colon. I believe that Keigo Oyamada had originally come from the city of Nakameguro on the island of Honshu, before touring the world and collaborating with artists from many other countries. A moderate percentage of the music in my collection is by Japanese artists, and i believe Cornelius always rewards his listeners with a variety of aural entertainment.

There is an herb imported from the South Pacific called Kava Kava, also known as Piper Methysticum. Most people find that kava is a mild relaxant, and i feel that it is useful to take some before proceeding with enemas, because i believe it helps me avoid intestinal cramps. So i took a couple capsules of kava extract and swallowed them with a swig of my coffee. The powdered extract can be made into a beverage or incorporated into tea or soda, but it has a very bitter astringent flavor; in strong concentration, it can help cause a soothing numbness to the throat and mouth, which makes it useful for when one has a sore throat. But i preferred not to taste it, so i consumed it in its encapsulated form. In addition to my belief in its properties as a relaxant during my enemas, i also think it has a pleasant psychological effect, promoting a sense of calmness. I was already in an excellent mood, having begun my waking hours with a delicious fuck from my best friend Tony; but i felt there was nothing wrong with continuing to encourage that mood further. "Better living through chemistry!" is a slogan of a major chemical manufacturer that Tony likes to quote.

So i proceeded to spend some quality time in my bathroom, douching deeply, cleaning myself inside and out, humming along to my favorite melodies on the album by Cornelius. A few of the songs on 'POINT' such as 'Drop', 'Brazil', and 'Fly' have extremely infectious hooks that really put me in a most positive frame of mind. Tony and i are fortunate to have thick walls separating us from our neighbors, so i was able to turn up the volume on the stereo despite the late hour of the night, without disturbing anyone. While i was cleaning myself thoroughly in the shower, i frequently found myself singing along with my favorite passages. As Monday became Tuesday, i was off in my own merry little corner of the universe, cheerful and content.

After completing a good deal of douching, and after cleansing my skin and hair thoroughly with baby-shampoo, i found myself standing in front of the bathroom mirror, cleaning my ears with cotton swabs, pondering my reflection as i boisterously sang along to the tune of 'Brazil'. "You know what would be really excellent?" i asked my reflection; "a nice dose of THC!" During the past few years, i had survived several bouts of AIDS-related pneumonia, so i tried to minimize my smoking activities and take good care of my lungs. But i had explained to my doctors that i really needed the appetite-stimulating powers of THC (the active ingredient in marijuana, which stands for Tetra-Hydro-Cannabinol) to help improve my appetite and keep my weight up. Some of the great medicinal benefits of THC, in addition to hunger-stimulation, are that it alleviates headaches, upset stomach and queasiness, and can even provide a mild euphoria, much as one would feel when smoking a small amount of marijuana. So my doctors had been prescribing THC to me for months, and i took it on those days when i needed help getting myself to eat properly. Some days, i also enjoyed imbibing in the drug purely for pleasurable purposes. As a non-toxic substance, it has long been my preferred medication of choice for inducing mood-elevation and a positive frame of mind. Large doses can make one feel 'stoned', much the same as when one smokes marijuana, but with my indolent lifestyle, that is not generally a problem. So i went back to the kitchen and poured myself another cup of coffee. I opened my prescription bottle of Marinol (the brand-name for pharmaceutical THC) and swallowed a capsule, washing it down with my delicious Colombian café à l'orange.

I believed that i had been successful in cleansing my bowels quite deeply, which i always like to do before playing with big dildos. In order to verify the success of my cleaning, i took one of my smaller rubber toys and returned to the shower to test the completeness of my hygienic measures. When i had purchased this small dildo from an online catalogue known as "Mr S and Fetter's Leathers", the manufacturers had named it "Little Geoff". They sold many sizes and shapes of dildos; and in their catalogue, they gave most of these toys men's names. However, i prefer to rename my dildos, giving them monikers which i make up to reflect my own ideas about their qualities. I had dubbed this particular toy "Smoothulator", or "Smoothie" for short, because his sleek black surface was delightfully frictionless and would always slide amazingly smoothly into my rectum with the help of a little lubrication.

I took Smoothie out of the giant trunk which serves as the toy-box where i keep all of my dildos. I found my squeeze-bottle of water-based lubricant, and brought these items back to the shower. 'POINT by Cornelius from Nakameguro to Everywhere' had finished playing, and the apartment was quiet now. I hummed to myself. "Two-by-five... two-by-five..." Why did that phrase keep circulating obsessively in my mind? I thought it was something i had heard in my dreams, but i couldn't remember the context. No matter, i thought, it's just nonsense from another frame of mind.

Earlier, in order to facilitate easier insertion of the tip of the Shower-Shot nozzle, i had lubricated my anus with a few dabs of petroleum jelly. But in order to easily insert Smoothie, i would require more lube, so i dripped an ounce of water-based onto his sleek surface and spread it all over with my fingertips. Smoothie is shaped just like an actual penis, but without any of the texture of veins or ridges. His overall length is about eight inches from his tip to his base, and his base flares out into a large circle, so he can sit upright easily. Stepping into the shower, i sat him upright on the floor of the tub. Then i squatted down until my anus was touching his tip. Gripping him firmly with several fingers under his base and my thumb and index wrapped around him, i gently pressed his head against my sphincter, working him inside very gradually. Looking down between my legs as i hunched in the tub, i watched his solid black beauty slowly disappear inch by inch underneath me. When fully inserted, he intrudes approximately seven inches deep inside my rectum, which i believe is the perfect amount of penetration to bring me pleasurable sensations without forcing anything too far.

I carefully slid his entirety in and out, the combination of petroleum jelly and water-based glycerine-lubricant making his entry easy and smooth. Each time i pulled him back out of my anus, i checked to see whether my enemas had been completely successful. Indeed, as far as i could determine with this toy at maximum depth, i was clean as a whistle. It felt so good to probe my ass like this, sliding and gliding Mr Smoothie as i sighed and concentrated on keeping my muscles relaxed and open. After a few minutes, i was quite convinced that Smoothie had confirmed the cleanliness of my large intestine; so i took him and the water-based lube and departed my bathroom, returning to my room at the front of our apartment.

The album by Cornelius had definitely put me in a whimsical mood, and after washing my hands in the kitchen sink (our kitchen is adjacent to my front room) i returned the disc to its place on my shelves. "What other music would i like to hear tonight?" i asked myself. "Two-by-five" seemed to be a theme that kept repeating in my mind, so i decided that since Cornelius' album had been first, i would next select albums two thru five, and arrange them in the order that suited the whims of my mood. I felt that i would choose some music which was meditative as well as invigorating.

It occurred to me that my intention to play with dildos all night would result in my hands and body being coated with lubricants, and i wished to avoid soiling my music discs. So after having carefully selected albums two thru five, i checked to see if i had copies of them on my computer. This way, i could queue all of the music on my computer to play continuously throughout the night without having to touch the media. As it happened, most of my selections were already available on my computer's hard drive, but one was not, so i inserted the disc and instructed my computer to extract the audio information and add it to the queue. Then i went to the bathroom again to pee. Returning to the front room, i saw that my computer required several minutes to complete the audio extraction, so i busied myself in the kitchen.

The THC which i had ingested was now having a noticeable effect, causing a slight alteration in my perceptions and attention span. It was very pleasant, but the dosage was far too low to have any significant hallucinogenic results. Normally, the appetite stimulation would be triggering sensations of hunger, but i thought perhaps all of the caffeine was counter-acting those feelings. I really did not feel like eating any solid food, but i did wish to have some nutritional intake, so i decided to brew some liquid sustenance. I boiled some water to use for steeping a combination of herbal and green teas. Some of these teas contained vitamins and anti-oxidant nutrients. I concocted about a liter of hot beverage, and added a large amount of honey to benefit my caloric intake. When the tea had steeped and blended satisfactorily, i stirred in some vanilla soy-milk, which was a convenient way to add more protein and nutrients when i didn't feel like eating solids.

I thought perhaps Tony might like a cup of tea, so i quietly opened the door to his room and peeked inside, but he had fallen asleep already. The television was still on, but it had been muted, and he was very quietly snoring. I looked at his peaceful expression and noticed that he had forgotten to remove his glasses. I knelt down beside him and gently touched his shoulder. "Sweetie... Tony..." i spoke his name a couple times and he awoke. "You fell asleep with your glasses on dear," i told him. He groggily removed them, placing them on the shelf beside his bed, and thanked me. He pointed the remote-control at the television and shut it off, then we bade each other a good night, and i closed his door and returned to the kitchen. It always gives me a warm feeling in my heart to see my dear sweetie sleeping blissfully. Fortunately, our apartment is large enough for us to be able to enjoy ourselves privately at opposite ends of our humble home without disturbing each other; so i knew i could play my stereo at a comfortable volume all night without awakening him. We enjoyed a harmonious lifestyle of cohabitation and friendship. There are no absolutely perfect situations in life, i've found, but there are some which are quite good enough.

I sipped at my tea and honey, and checked the computer again; it had only a few minutes of extraction remaining, then it would start playing the music selections. In the meanwhile, i decided to perform my procedure of 'water-proofing' my space for playtime. I tried not to be too ritualistic about this sort of thing, but i did find that it gave a certain amount of mental comfort and satisfaction on some level by doing this chore before getting seriously into sex-play. What i liked to do was to take several thick vinyl shower-curtains and drape them over my bed, tucking them in around the edges. My queen-size bed was comprised of a maple futon-frame, two thick cotton layered futon mattresses stacked together, and an incredibly comfortable foam mattress on top. By completely sealing the entire bed under the vinyl shower-curtains, i assuaged my concerns about any possibility of semen, urine, perspiration, or other smelly fluids accidentally staining the mattresses beneath. Then i took a number of old sheets (the 'play-sheets', as i called them) and draped them over the whole bed, tucking them in too to prevent them from sliding around and bunching up. I also put some old sheets on the floor around the bed, in case anything greasy or pissy should happen to fall over the side. I took a couple of old terry-cloth towels and spread them on top of all this, for extra absorbency; one never knows whether vigorous dildo-play might cause urine to involuntarily spray forth. Finally, I had a large pillow, sealed in a plastic bag in order to make it water-proof, and stuffed this inside a couple of old pillow-cases. Now i had a personal space wherein i could splash and squirt to my heart's content without having to worry about ruining any furniture or carpet. Ideally, i often daydreamed of inhabiting a place where i wouldn't have to concern myself with such mundane matters; but my pragmatic realism had for years taught me that certain preparations could be most efficacious at alleviating all sorts of underlying anxieties in my personal life.

Satisfied with my attention toward the furniture, i took another large towel and draped it over the chair at the desk in front of my computer, in case i should wish to sit there while my ass was greasy. As my audio software completed its task, i drank my nutritious beverage, invigorated by its warmth and sweetness. The THC and kava made me feel mellow and blissful, and an irrepressible smile was stuck on my face. I puttered around for a few minutes, browsing through various items that friends had sent me. I had a number of photographs of my friend Pasha in which he was performing feats of fire-juggling. Pasha has many incredible talents, including a sexual repertoire found in very few people of his young age (he's six or seven years junior to me), and he had recently auditioned for the Cirque du Soleil. Although he had not yet succeeded in securing a position for himself there, they had invited him to attempt to audition again at a later date. I looked at the photos of his beautiful dancer's body, spinning and twirling his flaming batons at night in a park, and marveled at his skill and dexterity. He juggled and swung the fire-stick, while his long hair flew about his head and friends looked on. I thought about the Norse mythical character of Loki, a sort of Promethean figure who brought the secrets of fire and smith-craft to the mortals; Pasha's eye-catching pyrotechnic dance made me wonder where he got his inspiration.

"Two-by-five... two-by-five..." i muttered to myself, smiling merrily. The computer finished extracting the audio, and i returned the disc to its storage place. Now the night's aural selections were queued and ready to play. My audio playback software has a marvelous visual plug-in which samples the music and creates an intricate and dazzling display of colorful patterns in synchronicity with the sounds. I was able to customize the plug-in so i could incorporate certain photographs and images to be included in the phantasmagorical visual effects. I loaded a large number of photos-- some friends, some sexy men that i'd found on the Internet, some interesting pictures of astronomical phenomena, some psychedelic art-work by my favorite painter-- into the visualizer, and began the music and video playback. Now my computer would provide personalized multimedia entertainment for the duration of the night. I chugged down my tea, and relished the harmonious convergence of chemical intake, dildos, friends, music, art, and ideas which was now coalescing in my mind and in my room. This was how i liked to chill out.

"Why not really go for the gusto?" i laughed to myself, and retrieved another capsule of THC from the prescription bottle on the shelf. Even if my appetite for food wasn't stimulated significantly that night, my other appetites could be whetted further. One of the most delightful effects of THC is increased libido. It's a drug which always makes me feel good in so many ways. So i swallowed it down with the remainder of the warm herbal beverage. The sound of the weird meditative ambient music that i'd selected was beginning to creep into the room now, and i listened carefully as it emerged from the five loudspeakers of my hi-fi surround-sound system. This album was by the group called 'Shpongle', which is a collaboration between Simon Posford and Raja Ram. The title of the album was 'Are You Shpongled?'... and i most definitely was!

I intended to settle into a long night of exercise, private sexual exploration, and sensory delights. I scanned the room, checking to see what other ingredients i wished to include in my recipe for joy. The toy-box sat open in its corner of the room, and i appreciatively looked over its contents, enjoying the sight of so many dildos within. One corner of the room was lit by an upright lamp with three colored bulbs-- red, green, and blue-- aimed at some artistic posters on the wall. In another corner of the room, the lava-lamp cast a soft blue-green glow. Tony had purchased that lava-lamp when he was in college, some thirty years earlier, when i was only a newborn child. Over the decades, the dye of the yellowish gel had blended with the blue solvent, so now it had a green tint as it slowly bubbled and swirled. I placed a stick of aloe's-wood incense in a heat-proof holder on a nearby shelf, and lit it, enjoying the delicate smoke of the high-quality shin-mainichiko-joss. The squeeze-bottle of water- and glycerine-based lube was on the bed beside Smoothie. A roll of paper towels was next to the bed, and i tore off a few, expecting to make use of them later. "All i need now is a dish of vegetable-shortening and a bottle of poppers, then i can spend the rest of the night here blissfully," i thought.

I went to the kitchen and took a canister of shortening from the cupboard, and dispensed a huge glob into a plastic bowl. Although the manufacturers of my rubber dildos recommend against using such oil-based substances for lubrication, i have always chosen to do so anyway, because i love the way it feels as it aids the insertion and penetration. I know that this shortens the life-span of my toys, but hey-- nothing in life is forever. I replaced the original canister back in the cupboard, and put my bowl of white grease on the bed next to Smoothie.

Then i went back to the kitchen to delve into the freezer. I found an unopened little brown bottle of poppers. The kinds which i usually buy generally list their active ingredients as iso-butyl nitrite and cyclo-hexyl nitrite. I carefully peeled away and discarded its plastic shrink-wrap, and placed the cold bottle on a shelf next to the bed. If the bottle is allowed to warm up gradually for a while before opening, condensation of water-droplets can be avoided, thus prolonging the efficacy of the poppers.

The final part of the night's preparations involved setting up additional video entertainment. I rummaged through a shelf of videocassettes until i found one whose contents included footage of Pasha, Tony, myself and other friends, which had been created with my own camcorder. I loaded it into one of my VCRs, and picked up one of my remote controls to turn on the television monitor. My remote controls are usually enclosed within a tight layer of transparent plastic wrap which is sealed with cellophane tape, thus protecting them from greasy hands or spills. My friends sometimes laugh at these 'condoms for remotes', but i believe it is a prudent measure which has kept these electronic devices safe from accidental harm. Using the protected control, i adjusted the volume of the music, and cued the videocassette to the point which i wished to view.

Now i was completely ready to sit back on the bed and indulge myself in relaxation and my own personal style of meditation. Shpongle was bubbling and thrumming away, surrounding me with weird melodies and sound effects, mixing the noise of gurgling bong-hits and bizarre voices into their songs. The visualizer on the computer was casting patterns and waveforms which pulsated to the rhythm, sometimes peppered with photos of my sexy friends which morphed and blended with the multi-colored particles and shifting shapes. On the television, i watched the part of the video where Tony was sliding his entire hand in and out of Pasha's talented rectum. I rested comfortably against my pillow, leaning slightly to one side so that i could easily reach around my backside, and began to coax Smoothie back into my accommodating sphincter.

As i slowly worked the black dildo in and out of my ass, i felt myself reaching a very calm and peaceful state of mind. Sometimes my eyelids would sag shut briefly as i luxuriated in the gentle rhythms of Smoothie, riding the sound-field of Shpongle. Then i would open them again and focus on the television, contemplating my incredible friends on the screen, cherishing their beauty and skill, thanking my good fortune at having these kind and loving people in my life. As the memories of my experiences with Pasha and Tony blended with my feelings of calmness, i felt as though i was centering myself in an abstract place of serenity and security. For the previous few weeks, the outside world had been sadly filled with news of impending war on the other side of the planet, of armies and weapons and implements of hatred and destruction. But now i was clearing all these negative external situations from my mind, letting them subside, replacing them with inner ideas of harmony and cooperation. My friends, family, community, nation and news media had all been working themselves into a frenzy lately, worried by the most awful situations that plague mankind. But this night, in my own hidden corner, secluded away from the influences of a crazy world of people whose behavior was shockingly crude and thoughtless, somehow i was able to unburden myself of those worries, moving into a different mental state.

As Smoothie slipped in and out, sometimes making soft smacking sounds as the sticky water-based lube was rubbed into my ass, i could sense the muscles of my rectum growing more compliant and at ease. I felt a certain amount of sexual excitement and underlying libidinous desires, but this seemed to be balanced with my slow and thoughtful repetitious penetrations. The solid black toy would slide all the way in, filling me comfortably much the same as Tony's cock had earlier; then i would pull it smoothly back out, feeling my anus kiss it upon exit. I tried to monitor my breathing, keeping it calm and measured, matching it sometimes to the sounds of Shpongle. "Two-by-five... two-by-five..."; this idea kept drifting into my mind, although i had no clear recollection of what dream had given rise to its obsessive insistence. As Smoothie penetrated me to his maximum depth, i paused and adjusted him so his base was flat against the bed, held in place as i sat there. The name of the song that was playing was 'Vapour Rumours', and it reminded me that the bottle of poppers was probably ready for me to imbibe. I reached for the remote control and nudged up the volume of the music. I sat impaled on Smoothie, facing the television with its memorable images of my best friends; beside it was the computer with its own weird visual stimuli. I picked up the little brown glass bottle, gave it a shake, and held it close to my face as i carefully unscrewed the plastic cap and broke its seal, hearing a tiny hiss as a trace of its contents immediately began to evaporate. I exhaled as slowly and as deeply as possible, pushing most of the air out of my lungs; then i gingerly held the open bottle of poppers under one nostril, avoiding direct contact with the caustic contents, slowly inhaled a massive lungful, and listened to the voices that Shpongle had cleverly mixed into their song. They were saying:

"Humanity's contact with an extra-terrestrial species?... We're receiving the transmission... We're seeing some sort of vapours... Rumours, that's all they are..."

I held my breath as i screwed the cap back on the poppers, set the bottle down beside me, and closed my eyes. Savoring the nasty tingle of the nitrites as long as possible, i exhaled, listening to the sound of my own long drawn-out breath and the noises of bubbling voices which Shpongle had incorporated into their music. I knew that Tony was asleep in the other room and Pasha was thousands of miles away; but in my mind, i fantasized that they were whispering to me, touching me, kissing me softly. The peristaltic muscles of my rectum writhed around Smoothie, and a soft sigh emerged from my lips; i heard myself moan involuntarily as my body was awash with pulsations of lustful happiness as well as contentment. The poppers incited a desire for more vigorous stimulation of my ass. Groaning and breathing in time with the music, i reached down between my legs and used both hands to work the dildo, faster and faster, until i yanked it all the way out with a noisy slurp. This was fantastic; i was in ecstasy; but i could feel a pang of greed, wishing for something more. Vapour Rumours swirled around me.

I sat upright and held the base of Smoothie with my left hand. Then i got up off the bed, still holding him embedded in my lustful ass. I knelt down alongside one of the nearby shelves where i keep other kinds of toys. With my right hand, i searched through a small box where i keep a number of cock-rings and ball-stretchers. "Two-by-five... two-by-five..." i was thinking; so what should i choose? It occurred to me that i would indulge this obsessive dreamy thought by selecting a ball-stretcher with two snaps and a cock-ring with five snaps. It just seemed like the right thing to do.

So i retrieved these two leather items and returned to the bed, sitting on Smoothie again to keep him firmly in my ass. I rubbed my scrotum, massaging and stretching it so i could encircle it with the ring with two snaps. The leather stretching device was about one inch wide and more than three inches long, but when i used it to encircle my ball-sack, it formed a ring less than one inch in diameter. I chose to snap it on the tighter of its two possible positions, thus ensuring that it would not be able to slip off. It forced my testicles to bulge downward, giving me a delightful constant sensation of gentle stimulation which i had come to appreciate over the years. Then i took the leather cock-ring with five snaps and pulled it up underneath my scrotum and around over the base of my penis, effectively squeezing my genitalia out and away from my pelvic region. One by one, i secured each of the five metal snaps into place in their opposing grommets. When this was done, my whole package stood out now, swollen and stretched pleasurably, a constant source of sexual stimulation. Meanwhile, i enjoyed the solid feeling of Smoothie as he was completely enveloped within my squirming asshole.

As i leaned back against my pillow, massaging my rectum slowly and firmly with my flexible toy, i thought about how good it felt to get certain kinds of exercise. I especially enjoyed sexual activity which encouraged me to get sweaty and made my heart and lungs work hard. Perhaps some bigger dildos would do exactly that on this night, for i was feeling extremely energetic. I contemplated the open toy-box and tried to weigh some selections in my mind. My brain was obsessed with the notions of twos and fives, so it seemed appropriate to select a total of five dildos for that night's activities. Smoothie had been the first; and i considered other positions besides sitting and squatting which are conducive to good solo dildo-sex, so it occurred to me that one of the dildos with a handle would be a good second choice. I also wanted one with a functional suction-cup base for holding it to surfaces; so i that was how i made my third selection. Then i thought about getting something thicker and longer for really strenuous wrestling, something invigorating: i chose the fourth toy. The fifth would be the largest and most inspiring of all that night; some of my toys are too large for me to just hop onto them 'out of the blue', but if i exercise and 'warm-up' for a while (as i intended to do!) then they can be achieved. I picked one of these boggling monsters as a sort of goal for the night, hoping that this fifth dildo would be attainable. Where there's a will, there's often a way, but it can sometimes take more than volition to achieve insertion of some of these largest rubber playthings.

So while i held Smoothie inside me, one hand cupping underneath between my legs to keep him from slipping out, i carried each of the other dildos one at a time from the toy-box over to the bed. I withdrew Smoothie from my ass and set him next to the others, lining them up in order by size and thickness. The sight of these five inanimate friends titillated me and made me squirm with anticipation of their powers to impale. Meanwhile, the computer was playing the trippy music and complex visual imagery. I noticed a reproduction of a painting blended into the display, a painting called "Storytellers- Carnival in Venice" by Susan Seddon Boulet. The two main characters in the painting are dressed in harlequin costumes, and reminded me of the jester character of Loki that pops up in many of her works. Then a photo of Pasha was blended into the visualizer, and i felt deep admiration for his beauty and elegance and agility. The Storytellers are blowing the seeds of dandelions into the wind on their whispers, like rumors taking flight, like thoughts being transmitted from one dimension to another. Taking a cue from the inspiration, i turned to the bed and decided to move into an odd but useful position. I pushed the pillow up against the wall, directly beneath a poster of Athena. I scooped an ounce of shortening out of the bowl with a couple fingers of my right hand and worked it inside my ass. Then i shook a few drops of water-based lube on those fingers and smeared it on the second dildo, a dildo named Elevator, or 'El' for short. I named him Elevator because he encourages me to go up and down.

I sat on the side of the bed next to the wall and the pillow, then lay back so my neck and shoulders were next to the pillow. By turning and walking my feet up the wall, i was now lying with my head on the bed, my shoulders propped up by the pillow, my back and spine up against the wall, my legs and feet now up overhead, and i was pretty much upside-down. I spread my feet so they were below and to each side of the poster of Athena. I was staring up at the face of the goddess, painted with snakes and mist and moonlight swirling around her countenance, listening to Shpongle, and crazy with self-indulgence. Elevator is shaped somewhat like a small sword, with a flare like a hilt, and a handle like a pommel. Instead of a blade, he has a phallic shape almost exactly like a real penis, with veins and glans, but somewhat longer than most of the men's penises i've actually encountered. Using gravity to our advantage, i brandished him proudly between my legs, held aloft with his tip poised over my glistening butthole which was aimed up at the ceiling, and gently allowed his own weight to cause him to push his way through my anal sphincter. As i exhaled, my muscles allowed him to penetrate, and he slid several inches deep.

Allowing his own weight to hold him firmly implanted inside me, i let go of El and used my hands to prop up my legs, placing them against my thighs as i bent my knees and lowered my heels and ankles toward El's handle. Carefully gripping his ribbed pommel with my feet, i proceeded to gingerly lift him up a couple inches, then let gravity drop him back down in me. Again i lifted and lowered, repeating his penetration in my upside-down body, exercising my legs, stretching my muscles, trying to work up to a faster rhythm. The continuous repetitions of his thin firm solidity drilling into me made me groan with happiness. I realized how ridiculous my position would have looked to a casual observer, and how unmistakable my satisfaction would have appeared; Elevator was driving me crazy, and that's how i loved to be.

I continued for many long minutes at this exercise until the muscles of my thighs began to tire, then i slowed my pace. Pausing to catch my breath, i let the dildo rest about six inches inside me. Concentrating on the muscles of my colon, i willed them to try to expel the intruder. With steady pushing from my rectum, he could be made to rise several inches back up, at which point he became top-heavy and would start to flop over and i would catch him with one hand. I laughed at this game, and repeated this effort many times, thrilled with how it made my ass feel.

My legs and feet were a little tired from the position i was in against the wall, so i worked now with my hands, grasping the El's handle firmly and proceeding with a piston motion. I would slide him in as far as i could manage, then all the way back out, rapidly, working my ass into a frenzy now. I was panting, my sharp inhalations involuntarily matching each momentary removal of El from my ass as i yanked him out over and over. With each pistoning slide inside me, he was shooting tingles of pleasure through my rectum and groin. Pre-ejaculate fluid was beginning to emerge from the tip of my penis and a sticky tendril hung down and tickled my neck. Squeezing my stretched testicles with my left hand, i used my right hand to pound El ever faster. As the moment blurred, i heard my own soft groans mixing themselves into the ambience of Shpongle, and Athena's snake-encircled face drifted above my feet. I closed my eyes, and my ass muscles were convulsing, then i felt several warm drips as my dick released spurts of joyful cream onto my neck and chin. As i rubbed my scrotum and delicately withdrew El from my ass for a final time, i sighed and opened my eyes. A long white strand hung from the tip of my penis to my chest, and i could feel several other globs on my shoulder. It had been a long time since i'd had an upside-down orgasm in this manner, and it felt good. I swiveled and lowered my legs to the bed, then turned and lay on my side, panting with satisfaction.

After a couple minutes, i gathered my wits and sat up, still massaging my butthole with a couple fingers almost absent-mindedly. Although satisfied at that moment, i still felt more lust glowing inside me, stirring me to consider my next exercises. I looked at the television screen, and saw that the videotape which had been left running all this time was now at a point where there was footage of my friend Kenny and i playing. The footage had been recorded at least a year earlier, when i had lived in a different home. In the video, i had a raging hard-on and kept fucking Kenny ruthlessly for quite some time, until i finally pumped a load into his hot ass as he lay beneath me on the same bed, thousands of miles and many months away. For a moment, i was a little bit blue because i missed Kenny. He was supposed to come visit me in my new home here, but he had become very ill in the beginning of March and had been back in the hospital. We had to postpone his visit until the next month, when he would hopefully have recovered. Thinking about Kenny and his illness made me worry, made me sorry that he had to deal with this difficulty, and made me wonder about my own fate with the same issues of disease and infirmity. I thought about how much i wished i could do something to help heal him, to send him my feelings of well-being and my intentions of kindness. Alas, he was so far away at the moment, all i could do was wish. Sometimes when i found myself in this position, wishing for a friend to be happy and healthy, i turn inward, and fantasize about transmitting my sentiments teledildonically. I have no way of knowing if this has any distant repercussions that would ever impact the process of healing; but it can't hurt to try. I don't consider this to be much more than an exercise in working out my own feelings, but there seems to be a value in devoting a certain amount of one's time to the endeavor of wishing to make your friends healthier. So i began to really focus on Kenny.

The computer had now gone on to the third album of the night, this one by Banco de Gaia, entitled "Igizeh". It's a powerful musical achievement, much of it recorded in strange places like several of the great pyramids in Egypt, and i had played this album (among many others) when Kenny had visited me more than a year earlier. I didn't think that it was really much like his taste in music, but it was not objectionable, because he is very open-minded and accepting of most of the things that i like. So the sounds of temples from the other side of the world were mixed with music synthesized on miraculous modern electronic instruments, and it filled my room with mystery and beauty. I sat on the bed contemplating the poster of Athena, surrounded by the sounds of strange strings, reeds, bells, gongs, voices, echoes, and unknown ingredients. I decided to have another dose of kava kava, just for the pure pleasure of relaxing and spacing out.

I went to the kitchen and washed my hands, then poured myself a tall glass of filtered water from the refrigerator. I retrieved a capsule of kava and swallowed it down, then walked to the front window of my room. The large window looks out over the bay, the coastal mountains, and the islands. There were clouds in the sky blocking most of the stars, but i saw a few twinkles. As i stood close to the window five stories above the street, the night was still, and i noticed that the moon was just coming into view now overhead, casting its soft eery light on the waters of the harbor. I knew that the world was full of problems, war, sickness, pain and suffering, but i knew it was all outside, out there, away from me, away from my mind, for as long as i wanted this night to last. I accepted that the world was so imperfect, so astonishingly full of sadness, and i vowed to be serene. I turned back to the room and focused on the goodness in my life, appreciating things like my friends and my toys. I looked at the third dildo lying on the end of my bed, the one called 'Perp', and i remembered playing with him on a previous occasion with Kenny. At that earlier time, we had been fooling around with a number of toys, and i was being sort of an extrovert, relishing Kenny's enthusiastic interests in my ass-play. In addition to inserting a number of exciting things into Kenny on that occasion, i had also shown him how much i loved to squat and bounce on Perp. I thought about Kenny, about my love for him, about how i wanted him to heal, to be free of illness, to be able to come visit me soon, and i was pleased. Perp made me happy, and i would try to relay some happiness to Kenny, in my mind anyway.

'Perp' was actually shortened from his full name, 'Perpendick-ulator'. I made up his name because he had an excellent suction-cup base which allowed him to be attached to any sufficiently smooth surface. When attached thusly, he would stick out or up at a perfect right angle to said surface, forming a perpendicular protrusion shaped exactly like a big hard cock, hence his silly name. The suction was strong enough to hold him in place even when one vigorously bounced on him. That was my current plan.

The walls of my room were not smooth enough for long-lasting suction, so Tony and i had found a handy improvisation. Last year, after we had moved into this apartment, he had sanded a large rectangular piece of hardwood, and had smoothed off the edges and corners. Then he had painted one side with latex paint. Now i had this slick board which i could straddle below me; or better yet, i could wedge it upright against the intersection of the wall and the bed. My dildos with suction-cups could then be attached to it and they would stay affixed as long as desired. So on this moonlit night, i placed the board upright below a poster of another painting, this one called Medicine, also by Susan Seddon Boulet. The primary figure is sitting, surrounded by familiar animals, and the seeds of medicine are blowing from her gourds and flowers off into the moonlit night, much like the Storytellers at the Carnival in Venice. I sat on the middle of my bed, admiring this poster while i dipped my fingers into some more shortening and poked it into my ass. I've always found that there's no such thing as too much lubrication for one's sphincters. I thought about how i wanted a message of healing and peace and love to issue forth from my mind, flowing out into indefinite space, somehow resonating across strange wavelengths perhaps to find itself being received by Kenny far away.

I took the squeeze-bottle of water-based lube and squirted a big dollop onto Perp, then i rubbed it over his entire surface, making him slick in my grasp. I thought about how we allude to the character of Cupid and say that people are "smitten with his arrows of love", and i thought to myself: "Perhaps if i could shoot more than just arrows of romance, i would try to make them also vectors of healing, arrows of peace, transmissions of love." I thought of Cupid as an archer, pulling his bow taut. Holding Perp at a right angle outward from the board against the wall, i pressed him firmly and forced the air out of the suction-cup, sealing him in place as he gripped the painted wood. Then on my hands and knees in front of him, i turned around and pointed my ass at him as he protruded perfectly from the wall. Placing my face down against the sheets, i let my stomach sag downward and rested all my weight on my knees, chest and the side of my face. My toes pointed into the small gap between the wall and the bed on each side of the board. Perp was aimed like an arrow straight into my hungry hole. As i backed my haunches toward the wall, i felt his head relentlessly pressing into my puckering entry. After a few seconds of careful pushing, he slid far into my ass, filling me at least six inches deep and as thick as any man's cock had ever been in me.

I tried to just relax and hold somewhat still in this position, attempting to enjoy the fullness without wiggling too much. I tilted my head to look at the television and computer screens across the room. The videotape was still showing me and Kenny. The visualizer on the computer screen was throbbing to the sound of Igizeh. At this point in the middle of the album, the title track was playing, and it was a song about goals and dreams. I looked at another poster above the television, this one called "Psyche's Last Task". The myth of Psyche tells of someone who fell head-over-heels for Eros, the god of love. When she awakens from a dream one day, she can't find Eros anymore and searches for him, grief-stricken. She finds his mother, Aphrodite, who gives her seemingly impossible tasks to complete. Her final task is to descend into Hades and retrieve a box of beauty. The poster of Psyche's Last Task shows her emerging from Hades into the moonlight, carrying the box as she is transformed by strange creatures like dragons, butterflies and faeries. Through the process of meeting her challenges, she grows from an innocent person capable of romantic love into a mature goddess able to love not only herself but also Eros. The tale of Psyche is a reminder of our imperative to grow. She reminds us that life takes us into dark places as well as light, and she shows us the butterfly emerging from the chrysalis. I felt that if i could find some sensation of beauty within the darkest parts of myself, i would try to retrieve it and transmit it to Kenny, like a seed of healing. I began humping my ass against the wall, driving Perp forcefully into my eager behind.

Smoothie and El were laying next to my head on the bed, and i thought about how i had played with them in the past with Kenny. I licked them and smelled them and savored the extremely personal scent of shortening and glycerine mixed with my own creamy ass juices. I pushed the end of Smoothie a couple of inches into my mouth, slurping on him excitedly. I thought about how a eudaemonist believes that happiness is the highest ethical goal. As i ground and gyrated up against the board with my ass, i got into a rhythm, kneeling as though in subjugation to the images in front of me. I slowed for a minute and picked up the bottle of poppers, exhaled deeply, then untwisted their cap. A great inspiration of vapor was sniffed into my lungs, i deftly recapped the bottle, fixed my gaze on the box of beauty in the painting, and wished a silent message of courage to my friend Kenny thousands of miles away.

The music of Banco de Gaia reached a crescendo, climaxed; and in the recording a monk said, "The goal is a dream; and the moment you wake up into the Ultimate Truth, your goal disappears and you become the goal." My goal of sending good wishes teledildonically to Kenny was being transformed into a process that was healing me. The world's wars retreated away from my mental space, and a sensation of tranquility and well-being seemed to be in force. I bounced my ass rapidly against the board, fucking myself diabolically with the Perpendick-ulator, and hoped desperately that Kenny's psionic transponders were receiving my messages.

As the poppers made my head spin, i closed my eyes and flung myself systematically at the merciless penetration of Perp, groaning and slobbering on the head of Smoothie. The pounding force to my pelvic region was causing a few drops of piss to spray from the tip of my dick with each backward thrust. I reached one hand underneath my stomach, grabbing my hard dick which was encircled by the leather five-snap cock-ring, pushing against my stretched scrotum and its leather ring with two-snaps. Squeezing my dick to the same rhythm of my ass-pounding, i chanted quietly. "Healing... healing... healing..." but the words were muffled by Smoothie stuffing my mouth. I wished for Kenny to be strong, i wished for my own courage, i focused on memories of love that all my friends had sent me for years, and i cherished the exquisite insistence of Perp raping my ass faster and faster. I would make my goals disappear, fuck them right out of myself, transform them, turn them into feelings of sexiness, spread them and spray them.

With a gut-wrenching growl, i felt an orgasmic tightening of my groin, and my legs began shivering but did not lose their bouncing rhythm. As my cock pulsated and squirted its arrows all over the sheets beneath me, i moaned and slowed to a stop. My muscles in my thighs and around my knees were losing their vim, and my bounces settled down to small spasms, then subsided. I leaned far forward and pulled my ass off of Perp, then collapsed to the bed, laughing, turned on my back to stare up at the red, green, and blue lights in the corner and sighed. I hoped that the universe had received my message and relayed it to the proper parties. Psyche transmogrified; now i turned my thoughts to another friend.

The poster had reminded me of Shawn, one of the greatest friends a man could ever have. He was a convivial fellow, and i remembered when i had moved in with him a decade earlier. When we were first getting to know each other, we discovered our love for psychedelic drugs and our admiration of Susan Seddon Boulet together. One time when the two of us were tripping on fantastic doses of acid, we blissed out to the sights of her artwork and the sounds of music by a bizarre group called Virtualizer. We had explored dildos and THC and psychotropic interactions during past adventures. The fourth album was beginning now as the computer's display flashed and flickered; it was a masterpiece by Virtualizer Revisited: Acid Warrior's Dream Crystals. Many years ago, when i had shared my former home with Shawn, we had listened to this album. Shawn had scored some ecstasy tablets and we did a candy-flip which was mindbogglingly fun.

Usually Shawn was sexually less active around me, but when he was on ecstasy he would become totally uninhibited; on a few of these occasions, we had played with various dildos, and i had been thrilled to watch him screw himself with Smoothie and Elevator. He had been amazed at how vigorously i could screw myself with the fourth dildo, the one which he and i had decided to call 'Thor'. Thor was one of my longest dildos, and i could only take him about seven or eight inches deep, although he stood much taller. He was very thick, perhaps eight centimeters at his shaft's widest diameter. I treasured the memory of our wild time together, rolling in love and lubrication to the sounds of this mysterious music.

But every time i thought of Shawn lately, i kept feeling a heavy sadness. Shawn was dead nine months now, and i missed him with an ache that was healing so slowly. It made me want to cry when i thought there would be no more opportunities to play drugged-out dildo-crazed games of orgasmic jollies with this eudaemonist. Then i realized that i could always continue to play with Shawn, the Shawn in my dreams and fantasies. Even dead, Shawn still had a power in my life, he could make me feel happy, sexy, alive. I was so sorry that he couldn't see me there in my beautiful new home with Tony, enveloped in the comforts and sounds that we loved. But i would send him my ideas anyway, transmit my teledildonic pulsations of courage and ecstasy toward him, listening for the wisdom in his response. When he had been alive, i could always rely on Shawn to make good sense when we showed each other our love; that did not have to change now that he was dead. He would live in my imagination, and i would invoke the power of his memories with the ingredients in this night's spell.

So this fourth dildo named Thor was a mighty thing to wield, and i loved the exercise. I pushed another clump of grease into my ass, and then squirted some water-based lube on the dildo. As i gazed at the image of Psyche on the poster, it seemed that her mane was writhing with surreptitious creatures darting and slithering, almost like snakes and antlers forming a nest or cocoon around her. I thought about the figure of Dionysius, sometimes portrayed as Pan the dancing goat, or as Cernunnos with his antlers and horniness. Shawn and i had discussed our love of ecstatic orgy, and as dionysiac brethren we had done our own sort of dances. This dance in my room would be performed with Thor to a thundering rhythm that rumbled through the five loudspeakers around me. Virtualizer was weaving a magical ambience, the moonlight was now visible from my seat on the bed, and i was tuning myself into the proper cosmic frequencies to share the moment with Tony, Pasha, Kenny and Shawn. Whether or not Shawn existed anymore, he was influencing my present moment, as were all my other friends, and we were enjoying the magic.

Thor's surface was porous and textured, unlike flesh but equally complex. I remembered Shawn's laughter when i rubbed its surface, lifting it into the air in both hands, feeling it flex and sag under its own weight. I stared at the poster above the computer, the one called 'Calling the Eagle'. It was the first poster that Shawn had ever given to me, and i was cherishing the gift all over again as much as the first time. The sound effects and tape loops on the Virtualizer album broadened the trippy space in the room between me and the images in the painting. The central figure is a powerful being whose hair and wings and skin and face are transforming into antlers and horns and feathers and claws and scales and fins and tongues and totem poles as they are calling an eagle to alight in their dazzling magic. I remembered the way Shawn's hair used to feel, the way he and i had huddled together affectionately, giggling about the crazy creatures we had imagined in the poster.

I knelt on the bed and turned sideways so my feet could hang comfortably over the edge while i squatted in the midst of the sound-field being spun by Acid Warriors Dream Crystals. The good old feelings from my adventures with Shawn were blending with the vivid pleasures of the current moment, sights and sounds and flavors and textures that overlapped between my memory and my dreams. I hoped for impossible psionic empathy to flow between the realities of my past and my hopes for future experiences with friends who could appreciate these times with me. I strove toward the dream of happiness that inflames the eudaemon within me. I could feel my imagination turn inward solipsistically, and i willed the magic to come between us. I listened with all my devotion to what my senses were telling me. I aimed Thor directly at my puckering asshole, buttressed his base against my feet, and lowered myself toward this dramatically pendulous dildo.

Turning to look sideways at the poster of Calling the Eagle, i exhaled and slid my way slowly down his amazing girth. As he pushed me deeper and wider, i hissed the last bit of air out of my lungs and snagged the bottle of poppers from the bed. Twisting it open, i carefully drew a luxuriously slow breath into my drugged sensoria, and my stare into the many spiraling pairs of eyes grew transfixed. My hands closed the poppers and dropped the bottle on the sheets. With a long hoarse exhalation, i pushed myself further down on Thor's impalement. I remembered the stories that Shawn and i would share with a stoned giggle about the mythical character Pan, with his horns and curling antlers and spiraling hair. I listened to Pan, i looked for Shawn, i smelled the drugs, i felt Thor, and i was trying my best to stay attuned to the cosmic psionic channels.

I bounced up and down on Thor: i was heaving my large body up, holding it a moment, then plunging down with a grunt of incredulity, squirming as at least seven wide inches of Thor stuffed me to the point where my brains felt like they were leaking out my ears; and repeating this dance to an accelerating tempo. There was a clever sample of an astronaut's transmission mixed into the music by Virtualizer, and it told me:

"I guess I'd have to say to anyone listening to my voice that this is the business of making dreams come true; it's made ours come true over and over again." The dildo was squeezing the breath out of me with each penetration, and i cried softly with crazed joy and tears of appreciation as my bouncing and flailing grew sweatier. The cock-ring and ball-stretcher were making my genitals ache now, they'd been on for long enough to cut the circulation a tiny bit. I slowed my bouncing, paused, then gingerly unfastened the two-snap cock-ring. As the pinching was relieved, i felt a powerful stinging wave as the sensations in my testicles blazed sharply in my awareness.

I began bouncing again on Thor, grunting as i bore down hard on each jab, squealing occasionally as his powerful intrusions made a few tiny drops of seminal fluids and piss fly from my cock. With one hand i gripped my dick, and the other grabbed the base of mighty Thor between my feet. I shifted from a kneeling position to a squatting position above the dildo, and pushed him into my ass. My weight was now focused on the balls of my feet and on the beautiful rubber toy, balancing as a tripod. As i gripped him and held him firmly upright, i hopped up and down several inches, slamming him in and out of my insatiable ass. With the hand on my dick, i began undoing each of the five snaps of the cock-ring. As full circulation returned, my cock was throbbing and dripping gleefully. I flung the leather strap aside and grabbed Thor firmly with both hands, perfecting his aim into my body, aligning him with the direction of my somatic efforts.

My eyes were closed now as i held the poppers up to my nose again and exhaled while unscrewing the cap. Delicately perched on my toy, the familiar sounds and voices in my mind of Virtualizer and Shawn, i inhaled another snort of acrid vapour. I closed the bottle and put it aside, grabbed Thor's base with both hands so that my weight was now spread on the five points (my feet, hands, and the dildo) and began pumping up and down on him so vigorously that it made my jaw go slack and i think i was drooling. My eyes crossed and an inspired glossolalia escaped from my throat as my voice thoughtlessly created a song to accompany the one on Acid Warriors Dream Crystals. As i babbled and sprayed and bounced and wrung every bit of juicy goodness out of my soul with this toy of love and memory, i aligned the feelings of my ass with the feelings of my dick and felt an orgasmic blast rippling out of my body. It was more than ejaculation, it was a rectal orgasm, an anal-gasm, a psychic spasm, a teledildonic brain-gasm, a psionic somata-gasm. My brain forgot that there was any other reason to be, and my feelings forgot there was anything else to do. If i could just remember this moment, carry a piece of the dream of the memory of the sensation with me out into my life, i would be like Psyche completing her last task, emerging with her treasure. I cried and laughed and chortled, collapsing on the bed, rolling in my pile of toys, blessing the universe with my emissions because it had given me the riches of a decade with Shawn. The creatures in the posters were smiling and shining with me, and i turned on my side and looked up at the picture of Athena over my bed.

Athena is a mythical god of war, and i watched the serpents and butterflies swarming in her misty hair. All the wars were in another world now, as far as i was concerned; our world was one where we would use our magic spell to achieve cooperation and sexual unison. "Two-by-five... two-by-five..." i hummed the theme to myself, and my brethren at my orgy told me to toy with the possibilities. "Toy with it!" said an imaginary Shawn in his sexiest smirk. I remembered his humor fondly. I looked at the symbols of agriculture and the seeds of medicine embodied by the image of Athena, and wished for my arrows to speed to Kenny. In the interplay of dark and light across the animals and structures in the painting, i was reminded of Pasha dancing and juggling his fire in the darkness. As Tony lay asleep, perhaps dreaming sympathetically, i imagined his voice, a wry drawl: "That's nice," he would say, "You should write that down." It was one of his favorite quips.

The fifth album began to play now, the computer generated its glowing images, the videotape finished and rewound itself, and the mood in the room shifted gears as the ambience stepped askew. One of the most creative musical artists on Earth is MixMaster Morris. He had compiled an anthology of assorted musical talent, and this was titled 'Abstract Funk Theory'. The opening cut on the album is a track remixed by Jazzanova, originally performed by King Britt featuring Ursula Rucker. Ursula's sexy voice rasps the siren song of a mythical tale about a powerful attraction that made men insane with lust. The siren, and the track playing from the computer, were called 'Circe', they were a deity of the seas and dreams, and their name could be pronounced either "sear-sea" or "sir-ka", and was sometimes written as 'Cirque'. The Cirque is an archetype of the circus, the orgy, the rings and cycles of life, the magic in our dreams. I said the name of the song and the name of the deity out loud, twice, pronouncing each of the five phonemes distinctly: "Cirque/Circe." In my mind, i chanted my mantra, "Two-by-five... two-by-five...", and memorized the ingredients that it contained so far.

The spell was a Curious Incantation for Realization of Queer Unison of Ecstasy. It was a Curative Invocation of Recursion for Conjuration of Eudaemons. I comprehended and celebrated the names of the eudaemon. The spell was a dichotomous pentacle. The dichotomy was comprised of an abstract ontology versus an epistemological actuality. The pentacle was designed as a recursive function; during its fifth iteration, it needed to reach the critical step for resolution. The critical step would be a cosmic coincidence of the intersection of an abstraction and an actuality.

Together Shawn, Kenny, Pasha, Tony, and i were five brethren who shared five kinds of circumstances in our own special ways: wisdom, courage, dissemination, friendship, and war. We reinforced each other's ideas. We healed each other with our encouragements. We cultivated harmony. We shared love through ecstatic interaction. We had opposing intentions which were resolved by the recursion of sex-magic. We had five internal actualities of the epistemology.

The first were somatic energies arising from solipsism, my dances on my dildos that arose from my inner desire to create my own multidimensional intersections. We were wizards because we were following principles of eudaemonism, realism, empiricism, existentialism, and solipsism.

The second were sensory patterns leading to empiricism: visions of my brethren danced over the faces of Athena, i heard my friends' voices in my fantasies, i smelled the sexy odors of poppers and well-earned perspiration in the air, i felt the toys around my body, and i hoped for the convergence of psionics to favor our learning.

The third were modes of archetypes that represented the best in all of us, designing our eudaemonism: Themis-Thetis who dances between our dreams and memories, Loki who brings fire tricks of craftiness, Eros who shoots concupiscent sperms of love, Dionysius who incites us to dance and sway, and Athena who was resolving the recursion by teaching the crucial values.

The fourth were material components signifying our realism: the five liquefactions of lubrication, nourishment, relaxation, stimulation, and psychedelia; the two liquefactions of Concupiscent Alchemic Vapor for Transmutation of Desire (as much as can be tolerated) and the Ejaculation Celebrating Sexual Exertion; the five vectors of my dildos represented Cupid's arrows in the directions of Parallelism (Smoothie), Perpendicularity (Perp), Elevation (El), Depth (Thor) and soon i would need only Alignment (Bam!) to complete the design; and the Two Rings as portrayed by the two-snap ball-stretcher and the five-snap cock-ring. All that remained to fulfill this recipe of components was the use of the device of Five Rings, which i decided to retrieve. I dug out a large plastic bag from a shelf near my bed. The bag contained assorted diabolical leather and rubber goods.

The fifth were the words of Perpetuation by Inscription exploiting Existentialism. By achieving the comprehension of the spell, i would find a way to treasure a box of beauty within myself and write down what happened to share the information with my friends. If my words and ideas and feelings were somehow transmitted to other wizards throughout the cosmos, we could all be in the Dichotomous Pentacle, Two-by-five. The power of this sharing would be recursive. The design would be recycled, and hopefully the magic would be amplified. I would try my best, because my friends had encouraged me.

Ursula Rucker was singing an enchanting tale of men who were in love with forces that were so ravishing, they nearly drowned in the glistening sticky ecstasy. King Britt was weaving a musical fabric that was cleverly smithed by Jazzanova. MixMaster Morris had shared this gem with me, and i found it to be a powerful psionic confirmation of the forces at work at that moment. The fifth vector would be my great dildo called 'Bam', and my leather head-harness would form an aspect of the Pentacle with its Five Rings. Ursula sang about the thirst for a sexual nectar, a potion that was worth the risk of losing oneself. I rustled in the bag of toys and pulled out an inflatable rubber gag, a leather blindfold with soft padding, and a black and white paisley handkerchief. I began assembling the implements of my incantation on the bed.

I took the board away from the wall and laid it on the bed. Bam was a massive dildo, sort of like a gigantic version of Perp, but many times thicker and longer, curving and colored a darker tint. Bam had a superb suction-cup base too, and i planted him upright on the center of the board, affixing him with the firm pressure. Ursula sang of how seduction had become a dangerous attraction. Bam was about a foot long, not counting the suction-base, and veiny like Thor. I sat next to him, cherishing his domineering presence. He filled me with ideas.

I folded the handkerchief until it was a soft square and placed it inside the chin of the head-harness for protective cushioning and prevention of scraping under the jaw. I picked up the soft blindfold and opened its velcro closure. I surveyed the bed around me, making careful note of the positions of all my toys and goodies. With an image of the room burned holographically into my attention, i shut my eyes, put the blindfold around my head and fastened the velcro behind me. The rest of my maneuvers would be done with some sensory deprivation.

I felt my familiar friend, the head-harness with his five buckling straps. He was a wicked sexy friend, the kind that you want to share with your best friends but you can't help but gobble up greedily by yourself frequently too. Even after a long night of multiple orgasms, i knew he would still help me squeeze out some more love, along with the help of the inflatable gag. The gag was made of two kinds of rubber bulbs connected by a hose with an adjustable valve on one and inflatable capacity on the other.

Cradling the chin-strap of the head-harness beneath my jaw, i pressed the handkerchief against my lower lip and throat, securing it into place. I buckled the strap that went around from my mouth to behind my head, then i adjusted the strap that goes under the chin and up over the top of the head. I pulled each of them to their tightest settings and felt them squeeze the blindfold tightly against my face. The strap around my throat buckled behind my neck, and another strap went above from my forehead and buckled in back. Finally, i fastened the strap that went from over my nose, across the top of my head, and plunged down the back. I pulled every piece of leather until everything was at maximum tightness and convoluted comfort. Then i felt in my lap for the gag.

There was a circular hole cut in the leather in front of my mouth, big enough to push the inflatable rubber mouthpiece into my hungry drooling head. I savored its nasty rubber taste on my tongue, felt it rub on my teeth and the roof of my mouth. I clutched the inflator bulb hanging from the rubber hose, and shut the little valve with a twist. Giving the bulb a couple gentle pumps, i inflated the gag a tiny bit in my mouth. It made me want to savor the sensation of having my face raped by its powers. I ran my fingers blindly and slowly over the sheets until i found the bottle of poppers, the bowl of shortening, and the squeeze-bottle of lube. I felt Bam standing proudly on the board which lay next to me on the bed, and wished the wizards in my dreams could see what i saw.

The song of Cirque/Circe sung to me about being unable to breathe, of drowning in love. I pawed a big glob of shortening against my eager asshole and pushed it inside, smearing it deep with my long fingers. I picked up the bottle of lube and squeezed some onto Bam, smearing it up and down his massive shaft with true affection. I squatted over him, feet straddling the board, and lowered myself blindly down onto him, guiding him into my ass with my hands as i felt the inflator-bulb of the gag swinging and bouncing against my chest. He was so thick, such a stretch of my muscles, such a massive squeeze into my brains' psionic personal space, and i loved his incredible rubbery powers. I was grunting as i pushed my body downward, the sounds muffled by the gag as i descended into a deep kneeling position. I exhaled and leaned forward until my harnessed head was near the bed. I gave the inflator bulb another long squeeze, and the gag was filling my mouth now, cutting off my strangled roars, stifling my crying invocation. I untwisted the cap of the poppers and carefully held them to my nostrils, absorbed a lungful of their alchemy, closed them and returned them to the bed. As i exhaled, the sensations were exploding and swirling in my mind to an inescapable beat. I swayed and squirmed as i perched on Bam's unstoppable impalement.

I gave the bulb another squeeze and was in real trouble now. The air was completely blocked from passing to my throat, and i struggled to inhale the slightest hiss. I rode Bam to the moon and back, and felt an irrepressible ecstasy begin climbing out of me, like a eudaemon emerging from a fog in a swirling mist of snakes and horns. I danced in a cosmic embrace of penetration and acceptance as Bam forced my brains into a different psionic wavelength. I was ejaculating and pissing and only the most muffled gurgles could escape as my screams were smothered by the powers of the gag and enchantment of the songs. I felt a wave of resolution riding along on the board with me, surfing and dancing like a dolphin or a merman, flying like an arrow of Eros with a transcendental message of magic. I was drowning in love, my brethren and i were invoking a spell, and i wanted it to find its way fivefold to wizards from another world. As the convulsions wracked my body, i desperately snatched at the valve, releasing the pressure and allowing the gag in my mouth to deflate, choking in my first frantic gasps of fresh air as i ejaculated, drooled, pissed, sniveled, sweat and cried. "Two-by-five... two-by-five..." the obsessive thoughts sprayed from me across the cosmic intersection and on to other realms where they would be appreciated and recursively amplified.

Working quickly from years of practice, i unbuckled each of the five straps of the head harness, feeling their tightness give way and releasing the gag from where it had so exquisitely raped my willing mouth. I ripped the blindfold off and sputtered to a gasping stop atop my treasures. The sexual exertion had led to puddles of perspiration and ejaculatory fluids and creamy goodness all over me and beneath me. I laughed and wheezed and sang along with the Circus about my five brethren, and i imagined how we could be five wizards if we cooperated convivially. I concentrated my most sincere effort into spewing telepathic waves across the cosmos to my friend Tony in the next room, my friends Pasha and Kenny thousands of miles away, and my friend Shawn in a different time. I wanted the teledilonic pulsations of magic to be received by all lovers everywhere, and hoped that the resonance would be detected clairvoyantly in a universe where Eudildonia was a world of sexy spells. I felt the ideas of these realms manifesting in the spirit of the eudaemon who was teleporting into my Dichotomous Pentacle. The eudaemon was psychokinetically encouraging me to inscribe the truth of my experiences and share them with others, thus perpetuating the incantation. With a prescience that was misty and convinced of joys to come, i resolved to dedicate myself to this adventure. I turned to the window and the first glimmer of sunrise was shining in the sky.

The fifth step is the process of sharing the spell. The fifth step is the critical step.


Continue to Part Five