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2004 August 23rd Monday 19:00PDT - Beyond the Infinite

Somewhere near the campus of Saint Michael's College in the corner of Colchester, Vermont, where the route from Essex Junction leads to Winooski, and these villages are between Milton and Burlington, there is a spot. From 1972 until 2002, i lived within a thirteen kilometer radius of that place. I'm not sure where it is.

I was dreaming: There's a secret tunnel going down the hill, parallel and slightly to the north of College Parkway as it turns into East Allen Street, and the natatorium at the southwest corner of the campus goes near shrubs, trees, and sidewalks. I'm levitating, floating down through the tunnel that mystically exists even though this is not a real place; this is a fantasy of teleportation through zones which are superimposed on real places, and i walked, rode, drove, swam, and biked my way through them repeatedly in real life. I'm familiar enough with the place to realize that i'm having a dream, and i'm talking to people in my dream. If i know that this is a dream, maybe i can turn it into a lucid dream by sheer force of will. Maybe i can control the course of events, because i know they are part of my fantasies, blended with my memories, desires, feelings, and sensitivities. Maybe if i dream that i'm having a dream, i will be so self-empowered, i will be more magical. But if i'm aware that this is a dream, that kernel of awareness is related in some way to my consciousness. Damn-- i might become conscious and fail to be lucid and magical. I'm trying to say something to somebody. Mrs Gallagher, my biology teacher from Milton High School, was around here somewhere, as were many other people. I wanted to say something to her, and to her, and to her, and to them... i want to say something... i want to... oh... i'm aware i'm awake, i'm clumsily conscious that i'm trying to say something, and i think i might have just groaned and said a couple words. But Tony was lying in bed with me, and he said he didn't hear me say anything, even though he was already awake because a passing train outside our window had disturbed his sleep a minute earlier. I told him that i was so close to a lucid dream, it was literally on the tip of my tongue and the edge of my mind. It may be of no importance, but he said i may have been aware of my dream-state for longer than i remember now...

Maybe. The dreams are hazy and dim, a din of voices and my thoughts; the part overlapping consciousness is not even clear in my memory. I felt a strong desire to stretch the parts of my mind which loved to sleep, who wove dreams, who observed my dreams, which felt magical.

It was still dark around 06:00PDT, mostly because of the rain and fog. We decided to go to breakfast at Shari's Diner in Meridian Village. We split a tray of deep-fried mozzarella sticks, chicken strips, shrimp and onion rings with a variety of dipping sauces. Then Tony had a breakfast of biscuits, gravy, eggs, sausage and bacon, while i had a focaccia bleu-cheese bacon burger with red onions, tomato, lettuce and pickles. I didn't eat much of my burger, so i doggie-bagged the rest for later. We came home and had more coffee, watching the world go by our window. Waves of rain showers continued to pass over and around us all morning, but they had mostly burned away by the time the afternoon sun shone on us. I browsed some new Yahoo Groups, found a bit of porn, and masturbated. At 16:00PDT, i was feeling a little tired again already, so i made some green tea with ginseng, eleuthero, lemon and alfalfa antioxidants. The Rite-Aid pharmacicst called because a data-entry error had been made on one of my five prescriptions which had refills ordered, and he needed to confirm the correction. I thanked him and said i'd be by to pick them up Tuesday. My plan was to go to my appointment at Respiratory Therapy, then drive a few blocks down Birchwood Avenue to the pharmacy and purchase my medications the same afternoon, combining my errands for fuel and time efficiency.

I listened to TimeWhys by Tonto's Expanding Headband, Don't Believe by DJ Soul Slinger, and several albums by Future Loop Foundation: Time and Bass, PhunkRoc, and Live in the Middle of Nowhere. Hydrotherapy preoccupied me for much of the early evening. It's so nice to have a handy shower-shot attachment to the plumbing facilities in my bathroom, for ease of douching. It's so luxurious to live in a home wherein both occupants have their own bathroom and full freedom and comfort around each other's hygienic habits and preferences. Tea, prescription synthetic THC substitute (one of my favorite scheduled substances), and a positive attitude made my evening seem beautiful and full of personal happiness, despite the level of underlying fatigue that seemed to have bedraggled my days repeatedly. I spent almost equal amounts of time asleep and awake during the past week. I console myself with the satisfaction that dreams and rest are part of good health, but i long for the ability, the stamina, and the wherewithal to exercise more. There are varying degrees of fulfillment which are contemporaneous with my recent efforts and attitudes. Rest; eat; dream; wash; rinse; repeat.

First random question of the evening: Is that the smell of dust from one of my Vornado appliances?. Second random question before sunset: Is or was that pineapple?.

Orb-tacular sample statement and question which grace the opening moments of "Delta Mk II" on Orbilivion: "The hearing continued as follows:"; "Now, i'll repeat the original question: uh... are you now-- or have you ever been-- a member of the Communist Party, or any party?"

Random taste query at 20:00PDT: Is that the taste of rosehips and lemon in the back of my throat? (Maybe i'll take a sip of this beverage and compare the sensation.... Mmmm... honey-sucralose-zingerlicious... i suppose it might have been.)

Seagull, airplane, passing automobile: they all faded into obscurity, along with the music flowing from the pair of Cerwin-Vega loudspeakers with ten-inch woofers in the back room, the occasionally running water, the ventilation fans, and the precipitation. Meanwhile, i kept thinking: "It would be delightful to start today's exploration phase with the smallest Falcon buttplug (#29). There are so many wonderful kinds of rubber, cast in exciting shapes which i can insert in my anus."

Sometimes when i'm engaged in enema activity, i keep feeling impatient, because i can't stop thinking about how eager i am to put big dildos in my rectum. It can take me a number of hours to cleanse my colon deeply, and i often wish i could speed up the process. Then i remind myself: embrace every moment of life, enjoy every minute-- even the minutes that are spent flushing the fecal matter down the toilet. Savor any opportunity to have a sensual experience with one's body, and cherish the freedom to have casual sex and low-impact exercise on my own terms.

But as Anthony Angelo DeBlasio Junior and i were driving down the street toward Shari's Diner on that morning of puddles and clouds, i proclaimed, "I'm worse than a cynic... i'm actually a total pessimist. Some people see the glass as half-full; not only do i see the glass as half-empty, i suspect it's leaking." He affected his most convincing gumba wise-guy voice and said, "You lookin' at me?! I think you're lookin' at me! I'm gonna bust this glass an' cut ya'!!" and we fell into peals of laughter. Then i asked him if i could make a right turn under the red light at the intersection of James Street and Sunset. We were in the middle lane, which was clearly designated as Right-Turn-Only, and there were no other vehicles around at that hour of the morning. "It's legal," he said. "I thought so," i replied, "because i was pretty sure i'd seen people make that maneuver."

My day had been spent partly with my best friend Tony, and partly by myself. Cherish, i keep remembering, savor, enjoy, embrace, delight. I found myself thinking about Shawn again. He was one of the people i've loved the most in my life. I don't pick favorites, even among the seven or eight friends with whom i had long-term live-in relationships; but he was a superb travelling companion, and almost like the hypothetical younger brother i never had. Two years ago, i think i started to come to accept that he killed himself. Existential quagmires don't seem to scare me much anymore. I believe that as time goes by, my emotions and thoughts are more akin to Tony's on the subject: semi-detached, intellectual, pragmatically morbid, but basically unflustered. I wished Shawn were here today, because he would probably play with me if he could. Standing in the shower with the tip of the douche-nozzle against my anus, i had a flashback to a moment when Shawn and i were rolling on ecstasy, stoned on marijuana, stimulated by caffeine, and enthusiastically involved in each other's intimate space. I remembered the bathroom of our apartment in Essex Junction where we spent years maneuvering around each other, and every once in a while we would be pissing or douching or bathing in front of each other, and we would have a laugh. Shawn encouraged me to not be a pessimist... yet he's the one who didn't want to live anymore, didn't want to be here to play today. I let the good parts of the memory linger in my mind, and resolutely detached myself from the sadder emotions which resulted. We had a couple years of dancing close, and nine years of quasi-fraternal trips; it makes me think that i could focus on the gratitude and grace, instead of the loss and sorrow.

When i did start playing with the Tiny Falcon buttplug first, it was pleasantly smooth, albeit small and short. Nevertheless, i managed to work it sufficiently vigorously to force a few drops of piss out of myself. I had my first orgasm of the night as i masturbated and watched some porn. The second toy was also small, but satisfying: the small black silicone penis-shaped buttplug (#37). I managed to literally fuck the piss out of myself with this dildo as well. The third dildo which i enjoyed was the clone (#14). Although only six inches long, it fueled my fantasies. As i poked my ass at various angles, i imagined what positions my imaginary clone-lover would utilize to reach me with his cock in those directions. As i daydreamed about having sex with a crowd of other "me"s, this was the third toy to stimulate my anus and pelvic muscles sufficiently to cause more piss to dribble here and there.

The next toy was the Smoothulator (#23). I noticed that it was really beginning to harden along much of its upper length, due to all the years of oil-based lubrication affecting its rubber material. Still, it was smooth and enjoyable as always, and still slightly bendable. I squatted on it and bounced, took a hit of poppers and really frog-hopped forcefully up and down on it, until finally a few more jets of piss were forced from me. The bed was of course covered by plastic over the mattress and old raunchy sheets and towels over the plastic, plus i had a plastic item which was handy. This item was a sort of basin, which i believe originally was a tupperware storage container for holding cake or cookies, but which now had no lid. It was circular, more than thirty centimeters in diameter, and the sides were about five centimeters deep. The plastic was almost perfectly smooth, so i could even attach dildo suction-cups to it. When i worried that too much urine would be forced from me, i placed this plastic basin in front of me, letting it catch whatever flew forth; whenever more than a few ounces accumulated, i would go pour it down the toilet. This helped keep the sheets from becoming absolutely drenched beneath me; but still, i and the surrounding towels did continue to get a bit wet, as some of the piss, sweat, lubricants, secretions and whatever lovely snotty bodily fluids i could possibly wrench forcefully from myself did often splatter about.

The fifth toy which i rode for quite a long time was Shawn'sDong (#17). Sometimes i stuck him against the wall behind me and backed up onto him, sometimes i sat him underneath me and squatted on top of him, and sometimes i lied down and reached him into my ass from various angles. A few times when i managed to stuff him all the way into my ass, right down to his big ballsack, i forced more piss and pre-cum out of myself. He made me want more, more, more. So i got Bam (#4) out of the toybox, stuck him against the wall, backed up on my hands and knees, and stuffed his massive thickness so far into my ass that it almost made me cry. When i had little bursts of energy, i would ride back and forth along his length in short frenzies. When my muscles felt tired, i would slow down, and try to meditate while just rocking very gently on six or seven inches of his shaft. Sometimes i would get the strength to slam myself against him for the duration of a song or two-- Deep Space Network and the Irresistible Force were some of the musical artists i remember hearing while i was engaged in these alternating periods of vigor and relaxation.

Eventually, when Bam had forced some piss out of me (and a few tears, too, honestly) i decided that i wanted to play with my inflatable vibrating buttplug (#27). I dismounted from Bam, got the vibrator and slipped it up my ass, then inflated it. I played with the speed-control dial for a while, enjoying different rhythms of pulsations. Then i sniffed a hit of poppers, and used two or three fingers to gradually, gently, carefully push the entire plug inside my rectum, until the base vanished into me, and only the inflator tube and power cord were left dangling from me. I put the vibrations on maximum, pumped the inflator bulb until it was at maximum expansion inside me (more than twice its original width), and felt my rectal muscles writhing as it flexed and surged around inside me intensely. I had a powerful rectal spastic experience which is sort of what i call an "analgasm", until i had to use my muscles to finally force the whole toy to shoot back out of my ass, dripping with impeccable lubricant and love-mucous. When it popped free, a couple squirts of piss involuntarily arced from me, as i gasped uncontrollably a couple times.

After toying with the inflatable vibrator a while longer, i thought perhaps i would attempt to engulf my much more massive vibrator, Krakatoa (#10), the World's Largest Vibrating Rubber Dildo. I smeared more crisco up my ass, slicked Krakatoa's surface with plenty of water-based lube, and knelt in front of him. Standing him upright behind me, squeezing his base between my feet, i aimed his monstrous head into my anus. Concentrating and willing my muscles to slide slowly down onto him, i forced his fucking awesome bulbous top to jam its way into my rectum. When i got past the widest part of his flared "glans", it seemed slightly easier to accept the next couple inches, which were not quite so thick as the first part. When he was embedded a good seven inches deep, i turned both of his vibrating eggs up to maximum, sniffed some poppers, and went insane on him. On my knees, pressing my hands against the bed to balance myself as i thrust up and down, i lunged against his incredibly rocking, trembling, buzzing powers, making myself groan and cry softly as he ripped me inside out. The plastic basin in front of me was sprayed with several ounces of urine as Krakatoa's gigantic mightiness drove me into a bizarre frenzy.

Squeezing my testicles with one hand as i held my cock with the other, i shifted my weight and lifted myself to more of a squatting position. Now i was in a tripod formation: my two feet and Krakatoa's obscenely huge scrotal base formed three points on which i was balanced. Journeyman's album National Hijinx was playing on the stereo. Riding, drooling, slobbering, growling, thrusting, sliding, hopping in place, i reamed myself with my cosmic vibrating juicer until my eyes rolled back and i almost stopped breathing; splashes of spermy liquid came flying out of my penis as i squeezed and cried. With a final grunt of painful release, i yanked my body up off the vibrator, ripping it out of my ass, and a forceful squirt of piss chased the semen out of my dick as i collapsed onto the bed. After catching my breath for a few seconds, i turned the vibrator controllers off. I looked at the big splotches of cum in front of me, then pressed my face into them, smearing them all over the old sheets as i licked them up jubilantly. "I know how i taste," i said out loud to myself, giggling and tearfully exhausted.

I walked around to stretch my legs, washed my hands and poured myself a glass of seltzer water with a splash of fruit juice. After a little hydration and relaxation, i found myself still horny for more. My muscles were very tired, and i was somewhat exhausted from my night's exercise, but i just could not resist attempting more stimulation. I sat on the bed and looked around at the various collections of toys, and began sorting things into neat piles while i formulated a diabolically complicated strategy for successfully forcing more fluids from my poor body.

The locking buttplug harness has a steel cockring to which the leather straps are attached. I pulled my cock and balls through the ring. Then i took my triple steel cockring (three circles of metal welded together), and methodically worked my genitalia through that, too. All of my package goes through the largest of the three steel circles, then my cock goes through the upper circle, then i perform the complicated task of getting both of my large testicles through the forward circle. When this was in place, i took another steel ring and slipped my testicles through that, too. Then i wanted to make sure nothing slipped back out, so i took a leather ball-stretcher and snapped it around my scrotum, ensuring that my swollen nuts would be forced to hang out and downward, unable to retract through all the metal circles. Then i took a leather cockring and snapped it around the base of my genitals; it fit within the circumference of the steel rings, squeezing my package tightly. Now none of this equipment could slide off.

There is a leather flap with a circular hole through which i slipped the inflatable vibrator buttplug. Then the buttplug and flap were pressed against the leather strap of the buttplug-harness which goes under the crack of my ass. The leather flap has snaps underneath which i fastened, thus ensuring that the buttplug was affixed to the harness. I slid the plug up into my ass, then pulled the strap up tight beneath myself. The leather strap buckled in back, near my tailbone, and the buckle was then locked with a small brass padlock. The steel cockring in front held the other end of the strap under my ass, and it held two more straps which went up over the front of my hips, over my pelvis, and i buckled both of these. They attach in back to the strap near my tailbone. The buckles on my hips were then each pulled as tight as i possibly could make them go, squeezing into my flesh, and i locked them both with brass padlocks. Now with these three buckles locked, the harness definitely could not move or slip out of place, as it pressed tightly into my groin, my hips, my lower abdomen, and under my ass where it forced the inflatable plug to remain diabolically unremovable. Having all this gear in place really turned me on, and i got a big erection which made the steel and leather rings pinch and squeeze against my skin.

My gear was all carefully placed around me, and i payed special attention to the location of the extra padlocks and all the sets of keys. I had purchased them as a matching set, so any key would undo any lock. These were on the shelf to the right of the bed, next to the bottle of poppers. The rest of my leather and metal and rubber toys encircled me. I took my wide fleece-lined leather ankle restraints and buckled one on each ankle. Then i took my fleece-lined leather wrist restraints and buckled them on both forearms. Then i took my pair of leather ankle-cuffs which are lockable (they actually form part of the anal impaler gear) and buckled them around each ankle. Their buckles were each locked shut with a brass padlock. Then i took a steel double snap-hook and connected my ankles together by the locking ankle-cuffs. Then another steel double snap-hook was used to force together the next pair of ankle restraints. I sat now with my feet and lower legs pressed together, and i hung a couple of extra snap-hooks off the D-rings on the leather cuffs.

Then in a slightly uncomfortable but nastily horny move, i took a small steel double snap-hook and attached one end to my ankle cuffs and the other end to the steel cockrings around the base of my dick. This forced me to keep my feet right up close to my ass, my heels almost rubbing against my haunches, as my genitals were stretched toward my ankles by these fasteners. I looked around at the remaining gear and mentally inventoried everything's position meticulously. My next moves would be sensory-deprived, and it was vital that i should know exactly where to find every item blindly, only by sense of touch.

I folded up a silk handkerchief and pressed it into the chin-piece of my five-strap leather head-harness. This helps prevent the skin on my chin from scraping against the leather. There is a small hole cut out in front of the mouth-piece, and through this i had threaded my large inflatable rubber butterfly gag. I opened my mouth wide and forced the whole rubber butterfly inside, pressed the chin-piece up underneath my jaw, then fastened the buckle of the strap which ran from the mouth-piece around behind my head, pulling it all the way to the tightest setting. The strap which went under my throat and around behind my neck was fastened second, and i pulled it to the point where it was too tight to wiggle, but just not quite tight enough to choke me. It is at this point that i must always make my final survey of my physical space-- my heart pounding and my fingers trembling as i prepare to push myself into the next convolution.

Satisfied that i could remember exactly where to find every item (particularly the keys) by feel, i picked up my soft padded black leather blindfold and pulled it tightly around my eyes. Now blind, i fastened its velcro behind the back of my head, then pulled the meridian strap of the leather head-harness up over my crown. Through this, a leather strap is threaded which goes over the top of my head from side to side, and down under my jaw, beneath the chin-piece. It buckles on the left side of my face, and i pulled it to the tightest possible setting. There was now no way to remove the blindfold without undoing the head-harness. The next strap was the one which goes around my forehead to the back of my head; i pulled it tight, and fastened the fourth buckle. Finally, the meridian strap which goes from my nose, up the center of my forehead, over the top of my crown, through which all the other straps are threaded, was pulled until it pinched me in its tightest possible position that i could manage. I fastened the fifth buckle.

The rubber gag in my mouth was not yet inflated, but it was already big enough to fill my face and stretch my cheeks up against the leather harness. Working completely by sense of touch, from years of practise, i felt the thin hose which emerged from the hole in the mouth-piece and ran to the inflator bulb with a release valve. This had been threaded through a steel O-ring gag, whose leather straps i then pulled up around my face. The O-ring pressed up tightly against the mouth-piece of the head harness, and i threaded the straps underneath the harness, pulling them behind my head, then buckling them. Then i found another brass padlock by feeling around on the shelf, and locked the O-ring gag in place. It pinched very slightly, pressing my head so forcefully that my lips were squeezed beneath the layers of leather. There was no way for me to speak, and still i hadn't even inflated the butterfly gag yet. It was possible for soft moans to whisper from my nostrils as i wheezed. Running my hands over my distended scrotum and penis, which were being meanly yanked out from my torso and forced forward to my ankles, i was so horny that i felt pre-ejaculatory fluids running all over my fingers, my genitals, and the multitude of metal and leather bundled there.

The next item which would further my diabolical plans was my locking leather hood. I had loosened the laces in back, snapped the eye-coverings in place, and removed the mouth-piece gag so there was an open hole in front of the mouth. I pulled the hood over all of my other headgear. It took a while to patiently arrange it, straightening it into place, so the inflator bulb of the butterfly gag ran through the open mouth-hole. There were two tiny grommets positioned at the nostrils, to ensure that a minimal amount of air can be inhaled. When it was properly placed, i began pulling the laces tightly behind my head. The opening at the mouth was large enough to allow the inflator tube through, and i could feel the steel O-ring locked in place behind it. The grommets were under my nose, and i could feel my warm breath flowing in and out. My heart raced, and i tried to make myself remain calm. I was encased in absolute darkness, smelling leather and tasting rubber, hearing the clink of steel as i wiggled and squirmed, feeling the solid buttplug jammed up my ass.

When i had pulled the laces as tightly as possible on the back of the hood, i tied them in a bow, then pulled the ends up underneath the inner leather flaps, so they were sealed inside and unreachable when the hood was totally shut. The collar of the hood has a very tough leather strap which i pulled tightly. It pressed against the leather straps of the head-harness underneath, and almost choked me; i fiddled and adjusted everything so it was at maximum tightness, but wasn't quite cutting off any circulation or air. Then before the final diabolical piece of the plan, i sat still for a minute. I gathered my thoughts, considering what i was about to do. I felt the shelf next to the bed, blindly found the seventh brass padlock (from my set of ten) and slipped it through the buckle on the back of the collar of the leather hood. When i snapped it shut, there was a sense of accomplishment. Everything was arranged, and there could be no short-cuts to escape.

The hood could not be undone without using a key to unlock the collar. This prevents the laces from being reached, so there is no way to loosen the hood and make any changes to the gear locked underneath. The head-harness underneath was tight enough on its own, but the locking O-ring gag which was threaded through it was an especially wicked device, making my whole face and head feel thoroughly bound and compressed. There was no way to remove the hood, the head-harness, the blindfold, the O-ring gag, or the large rubber butterfly gag which filled my mouth. The straps of the head-harness and the soft lining of the leather hood were bound so tightly against my skin, i could feel my perspiration. Although the hood muffled my hearing a bit, i could still just barely make out the sounds of Juno Reactor playing on the stereo.

Not only was my head and face completely locked up and stuffed with a wicked gag, the rest of my body was uncomfortably forced into a tight position as i sat there against the wall. My nuts and cock strained as they were fastened to my ankles, all of which was pulled up tightly against my groin as the buttplug-harness was squeezing my whole pelvic region. It was a cruel, sensual, complicated, marvelous work which brought me such intense pleasure, i could feel the fluids slowly oozing from my penis. If i'd wanted to, i probably could have orgasmed almost instantly by simply rubbing my cock for a minute; but i wished to extend these sensations, and i willed myself to slowly, deliberately, conscientiously avoid pushing myself over the edge too soon.

I felt the inflator bulb of the buttplug, and slowly squeezed it. Each time i squeezed, i could feel the buttplug growing larger inside my rectum, forcing its expansion inside me. After the sixth squeeze, it was at its absolute maximum inflation, quite a huge ass-full. Then with my other hand, i felt the vibration control dial. I slid it up faster and faster until it was buzzing at maximum speed. My rectal muscles flexed and squirmed and i groaned and shook as it raped me deep inside. Then i felt the bottle of poppers on the shelf next to me. I carefully unscrewed the cap and held the bottle up to the grommets at my nostrils. I inhaled deeply several time, closed the cap and put the bottle aside. My head was spinning now, my senses reeling, my thoughts spinning, my body trembling, my vibrator shaking my spine, my whole self imploding with a sexual madness that was exquisite beyond compare.

There were two more steps which i could take: one would be real, and one would be on the edge of fantasy. The first step was to slowly, torturously, squeeze the inflation bulb of the rubber butterfly-gag with my left hand. Each gentle application of pressure on the inflator caused the gag in my mouth to grow larger. After the second squeeze, the gag popped into the back of my throat, forcing me to adjust my breathing, requiring that any air be sucked through my nostrils. The third, fourth and fifth squeezes of the inflator made the gag so large, so monstrously full in my face, that i could only just barely sniff the faintest wheeze of breath through my nose, and i had to forcefully push with my tongue and the muscles which i use to swallow in order to exhale at all. On the verge of strangulation, i thought about the second step.

This final step was a blend of fantasy, going just past the edge of where i was really sitting, into my dreams of other possible dimensions, other lives in other universes with other people and other potentials. I felt the extra snap-hooks dangling from the D-rings on my locked ankle-cuffs, and i felt the D-rings on my wrist-restraints. I pushed my hands up against the snap-hooks, pretending that some invisible friend, some telepathic holographic sex-partner who was a product of my own mind and other universes of technology would assist me here. I dreamed that he was snapping the hooks onto my wrist-restraints, thus locking my hands into place at my ankles. In my fantasy, i would then be absolutely immobolized, bound to sit and squirm in this position powerlessly, unable to free myself, unable to shift my position, unable to move away or loosen any of the restraints which raped my throat, my ass, my genitalia, my mind.

My left hand against my ankles could just barely reach the inflator bulb for the butterfly gag. My right hand against my ankles could just barely reach my penis and scrotum. Giving another partial squeeze to the inflator, i caused the gag to completely cut off the air in my throat, literally strangling myself as i held my breath. The pressure was so intense, it felt like it was making my eyes bug behind the blindfold, it made me feel like my ears and my shaved head were sweating against the tight hood that locked my face-rape-tools in place. The buzzing vibrator inside my rectum pulsated and shook as i felt waves of power flowing up and down my spine, circles emenating along polar directions through the alignment of my chakras, as i suffocated and fell through the blackness, darker and deeper and tighter and harder and scarier, downward, inward, imploding into myself.

I'm not sure how many seconds passed in reality while i strangled myself, but in my fantasy i was telepathically communicating with my sexy friends, and i believed they were in control. I imagined that they would sense the feelings in my mind which signalled that i was at my absolute limits, that i was incapable of going without a breath any longer; and when they and i knew that i was truly, completely, irreversibly pushed to that point, they would then choose to force me to accept their power to hold me there and strangle me just a little bit longer.

Just one second longer, just one moment beyond what i could stand, just one instant past the limits of my capabilities: that's what they would force us to do as they read my mind and my thoughts screamed for release.

I felt the splashes of semen flowing wildly all over my cock, my large testicles, my ankles, the leather cuffs, the metal snap-hooks, my hands, my fingers, everything getting slippery with the flood of ejaculation. In those moments that stretched out and away in my mind, i realized that i was panicking, but my fantasies were controlling the panic somehow. In a moment which seemed to last for a long time, i realized that i loved Pan, the god of orgiastic Panic, the Dionysian archetype of the sexual dance of liberation. Sitting in place, bound and gagged and completely deprived of the freedom to move, to cry, to breathe-- i was dancing, gleefully revelling with Pan and my imaginary friends. We were wild. We were free. I was on the edge of the scariest, deadliest, blackest moment, and simultaneously abandoning any cares, letting my mind loose into a dimension of utter liberty. I think i almost passed out for a second or two, and that made me feel even more panicked, as the part of my brain which always wishes to survive asserted the notion that this must now all be undone.

Twisting the little valve, unscrewing it slightly, the pressure of the inflated rubber butterfly gag was released with a quick hiss, and i was suddenly choking and gurgling, muffled inside all the leather, sniffing desperately as air returned through my nostrils, pulled through the grommets in the hood, sliding over the back of the butterfly which was coated with mucous. I was afraid that i might strangle on my own saliva because of my inability to swallow with this gear raping my mouth, so i forced myself to calmly concentrate on absolutely precise, methodical, deliberate actions.

The vibrations in my ass were insane. Unable to focus on the tasks necessary to survive the waves of panic, i realized i would have to turn off the vibrator before i could do anything else. I felt the control dial with my hand, felt its corrugated edge, and slid it down until it was deactivated. My ass was still full of a massively inflated buttplug, but at least it wasn't raping the base of my spine with its trembling powers any more. I so desperately needed to free myself from this position, every nerve in my body ached to scramble loose, but i had to quell my anxiety and sternly take myself backwards through every step of the complicated process.

I could get a decent amount of air through my nostrils, so i realized i wasn't going to suffocate anymore, and this helped me to calm down slightly, although my heart was pounding fiercely in my ears. My fingers were all slippery and sticky with my semen, and i felt around on the shelf next to where i sat on the bed against the wall, and found the keys. I reached behind my neck and carefully unlocked the buckle of the collar, then methodically placed the keys back on the shelf. I was worried that my slippery fingers might drop the keys, and i would be doomed if i could not retrieve them. But i reminded myself that i had placed all of the spare keys in easy-to-reach places along the edges of the shelves around the bed, so i was able to bolster my confidence. The padlock came out of the buckle, and i was able to loosen the collar then undo it. It was a relief to feel some of the pressure around my throat lessened, and that probably helped my breathing a little. Then i managed to pull the laces back out from underneath the inner flaps, and with my sticky fingers i slowly untied them, making sure that i didn't knot them in a panic. When the laces were undone, i was able to loosen them, working my way up the back of the hood, until finally it was open and i could pull it forward off my head, ripping it away from my face.

The air felt good on my sweaty ears and skin. Still blindfolded and gagged, i was desperate to be free of the items raping my face and ass. I felt for the keys again, then unlocked the padlock behind my neck which held the straps of the O-ring gag. I carefully placed the keys back on the shelf. The straps were slipped back out of position, and i could now get at the five straps of the head harness. "Almost there," i thought, imagining how good it would feel to be able to breathe freely again. One by one, i undid each of the five buckles in reverse order, until the whole head-harness came loose and i ripped it away from my face, the rubber gag finally falling out of my exhausted mouth, slobbering and drooling all over myself as i sat there, still bound tightly in place with my nuts aching. I ripped the blindfold off and blinked as my vision was restored. Now things would proceed more easily as i could see what i was doing.

As much as my ass ached from the buttplug, my cock and balls ached worse from their predicament. I pressed the button which releases the valve on the inflator bulb of the buttplug, and felt it deflate as the pressure inside my rectum was partially relieved. That helped take my level of madness down a notch. Then i unsnapped the hooks connecting my genitals to my ankles, getting more sperm all over my fingers as everything was covered by my ejaculatory fluids in that region. I was mildly surprised by the volume of semen that i'd released-- usually when i have a third orgasm/analgasm/ejaculation, i tend to be running low on secretions. But i guess the mind can overpower even the most deeply internal organs, causing them to go beyond their usual limits.

Now that i was finally able to move my feet away from my pelvis, i stretched my legs out and let my aching muscles in my thighs relax. I leaned forward and unsnapped the hooks that were holding my ankle-restraints together, and was able to separate my legs at last. The next most serious ache was at the base of my dick. I unsnapped the leather cock-ring, then unsnapped the leather ball-stretcher. It was slightly painful as i pulled them off, because circulation was immediately starting to return toward normal there. I pulled the steel ring off my scrotum, then carefully threaded my large testicles and my penis back out of the metal triple cock-ring. All that was left on my genitals was the metal cock-ring of the buttplug harness, which could not be removed until the harness was unlocked. Oh, how long this process seemed to take when my body parts were desperate to be free.

I took the sticky keys and undid each of the three padlocks on the buttplug harness: two on my hips, one at my tailbone. Then i lifted myself up off the bed a little and squeezed with my rectal muscles until the buttplug popped out of my ass. When it was suddenly released, an additional squirt of fluids-- semen mixed with a little piss-- went flying from my cock, and i gasped. I pulled the buttplug and straps away, then carefully slipped my cock and balls back out of the metal ring of the harness. When this final ring came off, another involuntary spasm caused secretions to squirt one last time from my penis. It was shocking really, and my body convulsed a few times, shivering with freedom, and i moaned involuntarily for a few seconds as my heartbeat finally began to go back down to a normal pace and my breathing quieted to an ordinary level.

I sat there, sort of hunched over to my left side, piles of leather and metal and rubber and electronics jumbled beneath me and around me. I was sort of stunned, and completely physically exhausted. Every joint and muscle seemed to hum with a slight ache, but i would not describe it as painful. Juno Reactor cheerfully played on the stereo, and i slowly gathered my wits as i stretched each limb and flexed each joint carefully. I rubbed my jaw and my eyes, wiped the snot from my face and chest with a paper towel, and then began sorting and separating all the toys around me again. All of the metal rings and hooks and leather straps were carefully wiped off, and i ran the paper towels around the inside of the hood and the mouthpiece of the head-harness. I put most of the bondage gear away in the box under the shelf next to the bed.

Then i stood up; my joints ached and my muscles litterally trembled as they had been pushed beyond their ordinary strengths. I carried the butterfly gag, the inflatable vibrating buttplug, and the Krakatoa vibrator to the next room, where i washed them in the kitchen sink. I handled each of them carefully one at a time in the sink, making sure i didn't get the electronic parts wet. Then i put them away to dry. Next, i had a pile of a half-dozen dildos, which i brought to the sink. I plugged the drain, and filled the basin with hot soapy water, letting the grease soak off for a couple minutes as i returned to the playspace and straightened up. Then i used a soapy sponge to scrub each dildo meticulously, rinsed them all, and stood them up to dry.

After i finished washing all my toys and tidying everything up, i lied down on Tony's bed. He was sitting at his iMac, and Secret-Sound-Service was playing. I told him about some of my activities and feelings, then i fell asleep for a long time. At some point, perhaps eight hours later, i awoke and asked Tony what was the day and time. "It's Monday, one o'clock PM," he said. I fell back asleep for a while.

I can travel in my dreams to anywhere i wish, and i have a cell-phone, so when i get to my destinations, i call Tony and tell him about them. At some point, i decide to go to Europe. I appear in Italy. There is a street with shops, and one is a store that sells games, like RPGs. There is a sign that mentions Pakistan, but it is spelled strangely: there are extra G's and missing K's and other rearranged letters. In an electronics department, they are selling IBM multi-processor network servers. I find one and call Tony on the cell-phone. "It has a five-disc DVD-recorder carousel," i tell him, "and so many gigabytes of RAM, you can buffer a whole DVD in memory before you burn it."

I'm not in a foreign country anymore, i've reappeared near home. My parents are sitting on the furniture. My mother says things to my stepfather about me, and about all the other people around us. It is also partially a scene outdoors. There is a dirt road, a street i suppose, and it is almost oval-shaped, just like a race track where horses might run around. There are trees, bushes, shrubbery, cardboard boxes, and various items strewn about, mostly fruit and foods. The people are rummaging around, looking for the best foods. I wish to push away from my parents, push away from all these people. I find that when i concentrate firmly, i do actually start to push myself up off the ground. I levitate. I float up, up, up... i can't really steer myself in any direction, i can only go straight up. The people are all looking smaller and smaller, like ants. Somebody has a box with an ant-farm and they are trying to pour the ants on me. I complain, and i think i'm near my parents again. I push harder, concentrate harder, get away from these people. I am floating so high up in the sky, i hear the voice of some kid as he says to another person, "Is that a balloon?" He's referring to me-- i am at such a high altitude, they can't really see me clearly anymore, they don't know it's me. The ground and all the food and boxes and people are getting farther away, faster and faster... and i realize that i'm not actually floating up, i'm waking up! Damn! I want to keep floating... i wish... i wish... And then i realized that i wasn't levitating, i was waking up, and the ground wasn't falling away, it was just the bed and the sheets beneath me. Consciousness asserted itself firmly, i looked at the clock (3:30PM), and i told Tony about all these dreams.

I lied in bed, listening as Secret-Sound-Service continued to play beautiful music by The Cinematic Orchestra. Tony put his screen-saver slideshow on, lied down next to me, and snuggled up close. As he hugged me and rubbed my crotch, i got a big erection and pressed my buttcrack up against his dick. After about twenty minutes, he seemed sleepy; i got out of bed, and wished him a pleasant nap, picked up my glasses, left the room and closed the door behind myself. Then i typed everything i could remember about the previous day and night. As i sat at my iMac, i listened to other albums from Juno Reactor: Shango, which features guest performances from Doof, Otto the Barbarian, and Dr Alex Paterson of the Orb; and Beyond the Infinite. I thought very carefully about all the details of the previous day and night, and transcribed everything with honesty, sincerity, and a desire to let the truth empower my sense of personal freedom. It took a couple hours to type and edit. It made me feel horny again as i remembered the sensations, desires, and fantasies. I masturbated and orgasmed for the fourth time today.

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