If you were looking for Taral Wayne’s picture “Trophy” please follow this link.
I began writing this story back in the lower Jurassic and have only just finished it. After chiselling away at it for all this time I’m a bit nervous about finally unveiling it to the world. Hope you think it was worth the effort.
The descriptions of a tribal society and its sexual behaviour as described in this story are entirely fictional and do not necessarily represent the actual social or sexual customs of any real tribal group.
Academician Leemis’ Story
It should have been such a straightforward assignment. All I had to do was introduce myself to the Shaar Tribe, study their habits and rituals for a few moons, and then go home and file my report to the Academy. What could possibly have been simpler? After all, I’d done it before with the Zhalu, the Kalesh and the Anyaa, and had been highly commended once my researches were published.
I suppose I just got complacent. Complacency, as I often liked to remind junior researchers, can get you killed or worse, but I could never have guessed what a strange fate I would suffer for my own complacency. I keep wondering what would have happened if I had gone armed, or if I had not been alone.
Probably it would have made no difference. I was supposed to be a student of human behaviour, after all, and look how easily they deceived me. Any companion would have surely been taken in just as easily, and even had we been armed we should almost certainly have had no chance to use our weapons.
As I stepped through the transit window, shielding my eyes against the sudden daylight, the heat and humidity struck me at once. It was like stepping into a steam bath with my clothes on, and even though I was lightly dressed in fabrics that were designed to reflect heat rather than absorb it I fond myself envying the Shaars’ nudity and near-nudity.
I had only been walking for a few minutes when I encountered two scouts from the Shaar village. They immediately crouched defensively, their spears pointed at my gut. Careful to make no sudden move, I lowered my pack to the ground and spread my arms wide to indicate that I was weaponless. One of the men stepped forward to inspect the pack. Apart from my notebook, the pack mainly contained gifts for the Shaar Chief in the form of exotic gems and feathers, all of which contained miniature cameras and transmitters with which I hoped to record the tribe’s activities in secret. Once he was satisfied that the pack contained nothing sinister he gestured to his companion, who moved to stand behind me with his spear pointed at my back. Then, still carrying the pack, he gestured for me to follow.
The man who walked behind me wore a loose knee-length robe, but the man in front happened to be naked. At the time, that meant nothing to me. I had seen dozens of Zhalu and Anyaa men naked and felt neither embarrassed nor aroused by their appearance. But when I think back to that time and recall the way the young tribesman’s muscular buttocks pumped up and down, up and down, up and down as he walked ahead of me, I become painfully aroused and I find myself wishing I could have made love to him there and then.
At length I was brought before the Chief’s throne and forced to kneel in his presence. When he questioned me I answered haltingly in the Shaar tongue (I was in fact completely fluent, but I did not want them to know that. Better that they should think me foolish or ignorant.)
The guards handed the Chief my pack and he inspected its contents while I begged the Chief to accept my gifts. He briefly inspected my notebook but fortunately seemed to regard it as a useless trifle and put it back in the pack after removing the jewellery. From the pile of jewels he took a gold pendant set with a large emerald and put it on.
Both the gold and gem were fake. The gem actually contained an audiovisual transmitter that would allow me to record all that the wearer saw and heard. If I could persuade enough tribespeople to wear them I would have detailed records of the entire tribe’s behaviour for years to come. Although the Chief didn’t know it, privacy for him and his tribe was about to become a thing of the past.
The Chief asked me if I had any special skills, and in my broken Shaar I answered that I had some skill at growing and preparing vegetables. The men laughed. Traditionally it was the women who grew food while the men hunted. But I didn’t mind their laughter. If they thought me weak or womanly they would not perceive me as a threat.
One of the men whispered something to the Chief. For a long moment he seemed to consider the man’s words, and I found myself wondering if I would leave the village alive.
Finally, the Chief rose to his feet and spoke.
“A feast!” he cried. “A feast to celebrate the arrival of our guest and his most generous gifts!”
The naked man leant across to his Chief and whispered to him again. I thought I could make out the words “- wise to allow a stranger -?”, and a little later I caught a reference to strange metal birds in the sky. He was probably talking about our air transports. They were supposed to avoid undeveloped regions like the Shaar's jungle, but had often been known to take short cuts over them in order to save fuel.
The Chief dismissed his words with a wave and a smile. “A feast, Chalu. A special feast, such as we have not held since that day you have not forgotten...”
This cryptic remark seemed to reassure Chalu. “As you wish, my Chief. Then Runai and I must go to...” here he exchanged an unreadable glance with his fellow guardsman “...make preparations.” And the two men went off together.
I couldn’t help wondering what they meant by a “special feast”
Could it be that I was to be the main course?
But that seemed unlikely. I had not heard that the Shaar had ever practised cannibalism.
The Chief allowed me to prove my skills by helping to prepare vegetables with the women of the tribe. I couldn’t help casting interested glances at some of the younger women, most of whom were naked from the waist up, but none of them seemed very impressed by me. None of them returned my smiles, or spoke to me about anything except the tasks at hand.
I originally thought they considered me unmanly because I had chosen to join them in their work, but then, while I was momentarily unsupervised, chopping some leaves, a girl of about nineteen leant down and whispered in my ear: “Tonight your freedom is over. The Chief is going to make you his trophy. He had one once before, but that one was taken by the shining birds. Perhaps it would be more merciful if the birds took you too.”
There was that word again.
“I don’t understand,” I replied, careful to speak softly. “What exactly are they planning to do to me? And what are these birds...?”
She chose not to answer the question. Instead she asked, “Are you one who lies with women, stranger?”
“Oh, yes,” I muttered seductively, thinking she was propositioning me. “There is nothing I like more than to lie with a beautiful woman and make her feel like a goddess.”
“Do you find me attractive?”
“Oh yes,” I replied, leaning closer. “You are one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen.”
Yes, I may well have been lying or at least exaggerating just to win a chance at bedding her. The fact is that now, looking back, I don’t know if I was or not. In my current state I can’t imagine what I could possibly have found attractive about any female.
But instead of asking me for a date, she said: “Take a good look at me while you can, outsider. You don’t realise it yet, but you will never make a woman happy again.”
Then she walked away without another word.
Her words haunted me all day long. Perhaps they were a warning that the men were planning to castrate me, or worse, but as long as I had the neural disruptor with me I wasn’t worried about that. I was no wiser about the mysterious shining birds, of course, nor any closer to discovering what she meant by “the Chief’s trophy”?
That night at the feast all my fears seemed to be allayed by the warmth of the Shaars’ welcome and the magnificence of the repast. All evening the carcasses from the day’s hunt had been turned upon roasting poles above fires. Now as some of the men prepared to serve the food the rest of the tribe sat around the village’s central fire. The Chief had invited me to sit at his left hand (thereby symbolically defending his unarmed side). Behind us sat Chalu and Runai who had escorted me to the village.
“As our distinguished visitor you deserve this honour,” he said, placing an arm across my shoulder in a manner that I suspected was not entirely fraternal.
I kept one hand in my pocket. If the Chief were to become excessively amorous, or if things got out of hand for any reason, my neural disruptor would put the tribe out of commission just long enough for me to make it back to the transit window.
Of course, that would mean the end of the mission. The Academy would withdraw its funds and possibly sue for breach of contract. Was defending my sexual honour really worth losing my job and my money?
While I pondered the question and endured the continued presence of the Chief’s hand, the feast was served. The men brought the steaming, juicy hunks of meat upon thick mats of woven reed, while the women carried in the vegetables piled high on large leaf mats.
“You make great feast,” I told the Chief, and indeed I was genuinely impressed. To have caught so much meat in one afternoon would have taxed the skills of any hunting tribe.
“Only the best is sufficient for so honoured a guest,” he told me, stroking my shoulder.
“That good to hear,” I replied.
Amongst the girls who brought the vegetables, I saw the one I had spoken to earlier. She saw me too, and gave me a pitying look. I remembered what she had said about losing my freedom, and my hand tightened on the disruptor. If what she had suggested was true then, job or no job, I would be called upon to defend myself at some point during the feast.
Then the Chief spoke again. “As Chief, I have the first choice of food. As my guest you shall be given the second.”
“I honoured,” I replied.
The women departed, and I couldn’t help staring at their barely-covered backs. I didn’t know it then, but the girl had been right. Not only would I never lie with a woman again, but this was the last time the sight of a woman would ever arouse me.
Without ceremony the Chief rose to take his pick of the food. The men watched in reverent silence.
Just then Runai, sitting behind me, tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to look, my hand on the disruptor in case it was some kind of trick.
It was a trick. The instant my attention was diverted Chalu, seated next to Runai, made his move. I felt a sudden sting at the base of my neck. Reflexively I attempted to squeeze the disruptor button, but my reflexes were too slow. A strange sensation of heat was rapidly spreading across my entire body. It had already reached my hand, and I couldn’t close it upon the button. Within seconds it had reached my entire body. I couldn’t move or cry out.
For a moment I felt as if I was burning up, but then the heat passed. I was paralysed, but paradoxically the burning had left my sense of touch intensely heightened in its wake. If it had not been for my abject helplessness I might have enjoyed the sensation.
It was obvious what had happened. Chalu had stung me with a poisoned hunting dart. When fired from a bow or pipe the darts could be lethal to even a large animal because they paralysed its heart and lungs. But the Chief clearly didn’t want me dead, because I was still breathing. I had been given a dose carefully calculated to paralyse only my voluntary muscles.
The Chief nodded in Chalu’s direction, and then looked me up and down. What was he going to do to me? My eyes pleaded for mercy but I could not make a sound.
The Chief poked and prodded me, making sure that I was really paralysed. He raised my arm and I couldn’t lower it. The disruptor button fell to the ground and he smashed it with his foot. He slapped my face and I could not cry out, though the pain forced a tear from my eye.
The Chief stepped back and addressed the menfolk. “He is ready,” he announced.
A cheer went up.
From within his robe the Chief produced a razor-sharp knife. I could only watch in terror as he advanced with the blade pointed toward me.
I could not shrink away as the blade touched my chest and slid across it...but then I realised the knife was not cutting into my chest. The only thing it was cutting was fabric. With a series of deft cuts the Chief was slowly and patiently cutting the shirt from my back.
I felt some relief at the realisation that the Chief did not want to kill me, but that was lessened by the thought of what he would probably do once I was naked as well as helpless.
My suspicions were confirmed when, as soon as my upper body was bare, Runai, Chalu and the Chief began to stroke my back, chest and arms tenderly. In spite of myself I found myself becoming aroused, as much from the thought that I could not resist as from the caresses themselves.
The Chief laughed when he saw the bulge in my pants, and began to knead it through the fabric. Needless to say, that only made it harden still further.
With a few more deft slices the Chief divested me of my trousers and briefs, freeing my erection to the gaze of the crowd. This caused a good deal of laughter and cheering, but I couldn’t tell if it was from admiration or amusement. The Chief was apparently satisfied by what he saw, however, because he turned to the crowd and said, “He is the one.”
The crowd roared its approval as the Chief knelt before me and began to gently caress the tip of my penis with his lips and tongue.
I didn’t think it was possible for it to get any harder, but as the Chief expertly manipulated it with his tongue, lips and teeth my penis became as hard as steel, sending red-hot waves of pleasure through me. Meanwhile Chalu was exploring my own mouth with his tongue, while Runai stroked my abdomen, chest and nipples.
There was nothing I could do to stop them. Under the drug’s influence I could not move a muscle. My body remained completely inert while they toyed with it for hours, until finally a supernova of ecstasy propelled my semen into the Chief’s eagerly waiting mouth.
The crowd cheered wildly as the Chief rose, grinning and swallowing. Chalu and Runai kissed me and fingered my sticky member before posing me on my hands and knees to await the next stage of my inauguration into the tribe.
The tribesmen had turned me into a helpless sex doll. I was to be the object of their pleasure, and there was no escape. They could and would do whatever they wanted to me while I remained helpless to prevent them.
I was astonished to realise that part of me was actually excited by the idea.
The tribesmen seemed equally excited Out of the corner of my eye I could see the other men caressing and masturbating each other.
While they were doing that, the Chief mounted me, and I felt his impressive penis sliding into me and caressing my prostate, instantly filling me with an astonishing new kind of ecstasy.
The Chief rocked back and forth unhurriedly, accompanied by rhythmic chanting from the crowd, stroking my chest and abdomen as he did so, while I could do nothing but remain posed like a doll.
He was raping me, and yet he was giving me the kind of pleasure I had never dreamed of before. I honestly did not know whether I wanted to stop him or help him. In any event, I could do neither.
Perhaps the drug had altered my perceptions; if yesterday I had had the slightest suspicion that this was going to happen, I would have run away and never gone anywhere near that transit window. Yet now....
Although my old self was horrified at what was happening, some rebellious part of my soul was actually grateful that my mundane old existence had come to an end, and was thrilled at the prospect of being the helpless object of the Shaars’ sexual pleasure.
For hours more my ecstasy continued to build and build as the Chief’s rhythmic thrusts became increasingly urgent. I wanted to scream with pleasure, but I couldn’t. I believe I wept, though.
Dawn had broken by the time the Chief finally cried out and I felt a rush of hot semen into me. Then my own orgasm broke, slowly at first and then in an ever increasing crescendo of sensation that washed away every last trace of consciousness as my semen gushed out onto the dusty ground.
When I woke it must have been about noon. The men had gone off hunting, leaving only the women and unblooded boys in the village. I was sitting naked in the square with my back propped against one of the huts.
My penis was still stiffly erect. It didn’t take me long to realise that it was much bigger and more sensitive than it had been.
The rest of my body was equally stiff. I literally could not lift a finger. Of course my constant erection was making me wish I could at least move one arm.
As time went by it became apparent that my erection wasn’t going to subside. It was going to remain permanently solid.
And the realisation caused it to throb and pulse slowly, sending slow waves of pleasure through me, and making up for my inability to move my hands.
The women were milling about at their daily tasks, scarcely paying me any mind except for the occasional glance that might have signified pity or contempt. I could only stare fixedly back at them.
A little later one of the older boys, about eighteen and naked, came and sat beside me and gently began to masturbate himself with his right hand and myself with his left. My wish had been granted, after a fashion.
With my senses enhanced it was an amazingly intense experience, yet compared the previous night’s frenetic activity it was almost relaxing. I wished I could have helped him, but the drug refused to relax its grip by even a fraction. After half an hour or so we both came, and he kissed me on the cheek and walked away.
I stared at his beautiful naked back, hugely aroused, until he disappeared into one of the huts. Beforehand I would never have been so aroused by the sight of a man’s body. It seemed that the drug had not just paralysed me but given me a whole new sexual orientation.
I could have written an entire paper on the subject - if I could have written.
A few minutes later the boy emerged with another of about his age. “Oh, come on, Vuki,” he said. “Just fingering him is no good. You’ve got to ride him properly like the Chief did.”
“And just how are you going to do that, Rezhi?” scoffed Vuki. “Your pole’s so small, he probably won’t even notice it’s in him.”
Vuki’s taunt didn’t discourage Rezhi in the slightest. “It’s big enough to give you a surprise one night when you’re not expecting it,” he said. “Anyway, if you’ve nothing better to do you can go away and let me fuck him all by myself.”
“No, I’ll stay,” said Vuki. “You might want me to find it for you.”
They continued with their banter even while they knelt beside me and proceeded to gently caress my chest, arms, back, and finally my erection.
“No need. See? It’s already big enough that half the village can see it.”
“They’d have to spend a long time looking for it.”
“Well, he won’t have to look very far for it,” said Rezhi, rolling me onto my stomach.
A small crowd of younger boys had gathered to watch, and they cheered enthusiastically and began masturbating furiously as Rezhi slid his penis into me, sending electric thrills coursing through my nervous system.
Despite Vuki’s taunts, I could feel that Rezhi’s penis was a perfectly respectable size, although clearly not as impressive as the chief’s. What the young man lacked in experience he more than made up for in enthusiasm, and it wasn’t long before my entire body was positively ringing with ecstasy.
Meanwhile Vuki continued to tease Rezhi on his size and technique, at the same time contributing to our delight with strokes, hugs and pats of his own. These were of course administered with one hand because the other one was occupied - until eventually all three of us came, and then came again, and then came yet again.
Some of the audience booed as Rezhi finally rolled off of me and fell into an exhausted sleep, but their jeers turned to cheers as Vuki rolled me onto my back and began licking my sticky genitalia clean. My erection throbbed and pulsed delightfully in time with his licking, and it wasn’t long before he had finished licking and begun sucking.
It wasn’t as sensuous as Rezhi’s buggery, but if anything it was even more intense. Because I’d already come four times that day it took him even longer to make me come again, and when he finally did I thought I was going to die from the sheer physical intensity of it.
No more, I thought, please, no more.
But he couldn’t read my thoughts, and so after a brief pause he began again, making my erection hard as an iron bar and arousing even bigger cheers from the crowd.
There are no words to describe the level of sensation Vuki brought me to that sweltering afternoon. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t remember my own name. I knew only that I was at the epicentre of some vast maelstrom of sensation that was threatening to tear my mind to pieces.
When I finally came to, my mind was somehow still intact. Vuki and Rezhi were gone, the crowd had dispersed and the sun was close to setting. Forgetting my condition for a moment I tried to move, and was quickly reminded of my helplessness.
I was puzzled. It had been the better part of a day since Chalu had stung me with the dart. A single dart couldn’t hold a very big dose of the drug, and yet the paralysis still showed no sign of wearing off.
Of course, as soon as it did begin to show signs of wearing off they’d probably just give me another dose, and I wasn’t certain how many doses I could survive, especially if I had any more climaxes like the last two. My time with the Shaar was likely to be a short but happy one. Well, maybe “happy” wasn’t quite the word; “climactic” would be more accurate.
A little later the men returned singing from their successful hunt. Ordering the rest of the hunting party to begin preparing the carcasses, the chief came over to me and picked me up, hugging me to his chest like a favourite doll. Then he clasped my forearms and began swinging me around and around in a circle. Still I could not move or resist. My body was horizontal, and my feet were flying outward so rapidly that I felt the air rushing past them. I was terrified that if he should stumble or let go I would slam into a tree or a hut and suffer serious injury, but his grip remained firm. It was both alarming and exhilarating, and it was making me even hornier, if that was possible.
Eventually he slowed to a halt, lowered my feet to the ground and propped me upright. Then he slipped his tongue into my mouth and began fondling my buttocks with both hands. The tip of his penis touched mine, giving me another electric thrill. Then he pulled me closer, so that his thick, red hot shaft pressed against mine along its whole length.
For a long time he just stood there, rocking back and forth slowly and letting his hands roam over my bottom and thighs.
Of course my own arms just hung slackly by my side, unresponsive; unusable. I was beginning to think that the drug would never wear off, but that was impossible...wasn’t it?
Meanwhile our throbbing erections slowly slid up and down each other’s length. The resulting stimulation was subtle and gradual, but after what seemed like an hour or more my arousal had reached the point where I could no longer hold off another explosion of ecstasy.
Through a haze of pleasure I seemed to hear the chief moaning loudly, seemed to feel his hands tighten almost painfully upon my glutes, seemed to feel him stiffen in the throes of his own orgasm so that for a long time he was as helpless to move as I was.
I had a brief fantasy that the two of us would remain locked together in orgasm, a statue of sexual rictus, standing in the village while life went on about us, occasionally kissed and caressed by the other menfolk, until the end of time.
Eventually, though, that time did come to an end. The chief, with a sigh of exhausted satisfaction, laid me down on the dusty ground, then settled beside me and slept.
The next day the men went off to hunt, leaving Rezhi and Vuki and their friends to tend to me, and tend to me they most certainly did, making up in enthusiasm what they lacked in experience.
My body remained immobile and unresisting as ever while they licked and caressed and masturbated and buggered me, and each other, to orgasm after orgasm after helpless orgasm.
My body was insatiable. My climaxes went on and on, spilling astonishing amounts of semen onto the ground or down the young men’s throats, yet no matter how long and hard I came I never felt tired or spent and my penis remained solid as rock.
Where was my body getting the energy? I had not been able to eat or drink for days, yet I didn’t feel the least bit hungry or thirsty. I couldn’t understand it. In any case, the dart’s paralysis should definitely have worn off by now, yet it continued to hold me fast. There had to be a scientific explanation, but there was none that I could think off, even if being constantly brought to orgasm by horny young men was not making it hard to think anyway.
By evening I must have come at least ten times - not that I was in any condition to count, of course. Those youths who had not crawled back to their huts to sleep were slumped about me in exhaustion. Rezhi lay sleeping with his head upon my chest, hand still curled about my erection. From time to time some semi-conscious reflex would cause his fingers to tighten a little, causing my erection to throb in response and send a ripple of pleasure through me.
As the light began to fade the hunters returned, and after disposing of their kill they returned to me. Finding Rezhi asleep beside me, Chalu the hunter laughed and rolled him onto his stomach. That woke him up, but he was so exhausted he could barely move himself as Chalu mounted him.
The chief propped me up so that I could watch, and frenziedly masturbated me and himself while Chalu buggered Rezhi hard. Rezhi cried out in protest, but Chalu told him: “This is your initiation, boy. Tonight you take manhood into you. Tomorrow you hunt.”
Of course, I thought. Sympathetic magic. By receiving a mature hunter’s seed Rezhi was symbolically taking his strength and courage into himself.
Watching Chalu’s powerful arms restrain Rezhi from escaping, watching Chalu’s muscular buttocks thrusting back and forth, hearing Rezhi’s cries of pain or pleasure, I was excited in spite of myself and came rapidly three times in quick succession. I naturally felt sympathy for Rezhi’s helplessness, even though he had exploited my own, and I hoped Chalu wouldn’t hurt him too much.
Some of the other hunters had also taken youths to initiate, and it was well after dark before their cries abated. By that time the chief had long since entered me and brought me to more orgasms than I could remember. The man was insatiable. Fortunately, or unfortunately - I wasn’t sure which - my body was even more insatiable.
I was beginning to fear that these constant, repeated and powerful orgasms would eventually rob me of the ability to think altogether. Yet if they did, would that be such a bad thing? At least I would no longer have to worry about my helpless state.
By the time the others all fell asleep it must have been well after midnight. I was lying face down with the chief on top of me, his upper torso at an angle so that his head lay next to mine. Fortunately (unlike some of the others I could hear) he did not snore.
My penis continued to throb and pulse beneath me. It should have been impossible, not to say injurious, to sustain an erection for so long, yet somehow my body was doing it. It was equally impossible for a single dose of the paralytic to retain its effect for so long, yet no matter how I tried I could not persuade a single muscle to obey me.
I had never believed in magic, but clearly some phenomenon was keeping me motionless and aroused, not to mention alive without food or water. There had to be a scientific explanation for it, but in my condition it was impossible to find out what that explanation might be and futile to speculate.
Whatever the phenomenon was, I suspected that it would continue to keep me motionless and aroused for as long as the Shaar wanted it to - in other words, forever.
Some day, perhaps a century from now, when I was old and grey, my erection might finally fail. Then the Shaar might take pity on me and release me from the paralysis. By that time my mind would be completely gone, and I would spend my few remaining years in the elders’ hut, feebly trying to masturbate while they fed me vegetable mash. Until then, I would remain the Shaar tribesmen’s sex toy. There was quite literally no escape.
Over the coming days and moons (no pun intended) my fears seemed to be confirmed. By day the young men would use me for sexual experimentation, and by night the hunters would either celebrate good hunts with me, or take consolation for bad ones.
Still my limbs remained as unresponsive as ever, and my penis every bit as erect and sensitive. In fact, judging by the touch of the men’s fingers - since I couldn’t actually look down at it - it had actually grown by at least a quarter of its original length and thickness.
My body’s sexual potency was staggering. I don’t think I ever had less than fifty orgasms a day, and on some days I may have had over a hundred. Not that I ever grew bored with them - quite the opposite, if anything. Every touch thrilled me to the core; every single climax and ejaculation was unique in its own way, and each one seemed more sensuous and fulfilling than the last. It seemed as if my body was becoming dependent on orgasms, to the point where I even began to have spontaneous orgasms at night when the men were asleep.
Then the rainy season began to set in. Every drop of water on my skin felt like a burning caress, even before the tribesmen added caresses of their own. I was drowning, not in water but in pleasure.
So the weeks and moons slowly turned. While the men were attending to me I scarcely saw any sign of the women. I supposed that when their menfolk were having sex with me they would have no choice but to pleasure each other. Not long ago the thought of women having sex with each other would been intensely arousing to me, but now I wasn’t able to see women as the least bit erotic.
Of course, the opposite was also true: I hadn’t previously been aroused by men, but now the very thought of a man’s touch was enough to put me on course for another orgasm - not that I ever had to just think about men for very long (no pun intended) before being touched by one or more of them.
However, in spite of appearances, some of the men must have occasionally managed to be aroused by women, because several children had been born since I arrived. I never got to see any girl-children; apparently they were raised entirely by the womenfolk. As for the boys, their fathers would often bring their sons to see me, during those brief periods when I was not being used for sex.
I was relieved that the sight of the young boys’ naked bodies did not excite me sexually as the men’s did, though I did find their innocent nudity charming and beautiful. Seeing them run and play and squabble made me quite nostalgic for the long-lost innocence of my own youth. At those times I would have liked nothing better than to run and swim and play stick-games with the boys, but of course there was nothing I could do but watch while their fathers also looked on proudly.
And then all too soon would come the time for more grown-up games, when all thoughts of boyish innocence would be washed away in floods of sweat and semen.
And that was my life in the Shaar’s jungle. The dry season followed the rain, the rain followed the dry, and so the seasons turned in an endless cycle. Years passed in a blur of fiery orgasms. The men continued to use me however they pleased, and I could do nothing to stop them, even if I had wanted to.
From time to time I would miss a particular caress and realise that one of the men had died or grown too old and weak for sex; at other times familiar kisses were joined by eager new ones as the young men came into manhood - manhood being represented, of course, by myself.
And all the while I remained as inanimate as a doll, never able to move, speak or even blink of my own free will. My erection of course was as hard as ever, if not more so, and incredibly sensitive. Over the years it had imperceptibly grown with each climax. By now it was at least half again its original dimensions, which were not small to begin with. All the more for the men to enjoy.
Every day the men gave me countless orgasms, and every orgasm was unique and astonishing. The only thing they had in common was their intensity, which was beyond description.
That was my life among the Shaar, and I never wanted it to end.
And in truth it did not end, but it did change very suddenly and surprisingly one night.
I was, as usual, lying face down, while the new, young chief gently caressed my chest, my hair and my prostate, and so neither he nor I saw at first what had caused one of the other hunters to cry out in surprise. All I knew was that the moon seemed unusually bright.
And then my body exploded into another climax and it was impossible to think for several minutes. When at last I came to my senses I was lying on my back. All I could see was an astonishingly bright light that was coming from somewhere above the forest canopy. It was some kind of flying object, but definitely not one of our transports. It was far too big, and none of our aircraft could hover in such a fashion. In any case, it was emitting a rhythmic humming sound that was completely unlike any aircraft engine that I had ever heard.
The chief was no longer embracing me. I couldn’t see what he and the other the men were doing, but they were chanting rhythmically as if in prayer.
From where I lay I saw a shaft of light descend from the flying object. After a moment it faded away, and at the point where it had struck the ground stood a figure. As it approached me I could see that it was not human, for all that it walked on two legs and had two arms and a large head. It dark, shimmering eyes regarded me for a long moment, and I could do nothing but stare back, wondering where it had come from and what its intentions were.
After a moment the creature gestured and the men suddenly fell silent. The creature gazed into my eyes and I heard its voice in my mind.
+Almost half a galactic revolution past our ancestors renounced physical pleasure in favour of spiritual matters. In that vast span of time we have learned much, but we have slowly come to realise that in divorcing ourselves from sensation we have lost touch with a vital part of ourselves. For that reason we have searched the galaxy in the hope of rediscovering sexuality.+
As it “spoke”, I had a vision of an immortal race travelling through space for millions of years, incalculably rich in scientific knowledge yet totally devoid of joy and love. It was an existence that I did not envy.
+Yes,+ it thought. +You understand. It is in an attempt to regain that joy that we have scanned the cosmos for orgasmic signals. Ten of your planet’s years ago we detected some of the most intense and sustained climaxes we had ever witnessed, and they were originating from a tiny, primitive, previously unregarded planet. Immediately we turned toward it, praying that the creature or creatures producing these climaxes would not succumb to mortality before we arrived. We rejoice to find you alive and well and as sexually active as ever.+
The being reached out a hand and began to stroke my permanent erection. Its hand was warm and leathery, and its touch was arousing me to an even greater level of excitement than I had known from the Shaar.
+It is remarkable that the tribe which adopted you had learned the secret of orgasmic stasis,+ it told me. +However, we have now removed their crude chemical paralytic agent, which would only have kept you alive for a few more decades, and in its place we have converted your entire body so that its condition of stasis will be maintained for the duration of the universe.+
I couldn’t believe what it was telling me. It had given me immortality, the prize sought by humanity since the dawn of time, yet had simultaneously condemned me to remain helpless forever?
If it sensed my consternation the creature gave no sign of it. +We have known for millennia,+ it thought, +that only in complete stasis can the greatest heights of ecstasy be achieved. In our Hall of Sexuality you will encounter individuals from millions of other species whom we have gifted with perpetual immobility and permanent orgasm. Sex is a different experience for each species, yet no less extraordinary, as you will discover when your mind is linked with theirs.+
You... you trapped them, I thought. You imprisoned millions of beings, paralysed them forever, just so you could feed off their orgasms. And now you’re doing it to me too!
+It is an honour to be chosen by us, not a punishment,+ the creature replied calmly.
As if to demonstrate, the creature’s touch brought me to climax at that exact moment and I too was overwhelmed by sensation.
Then the creature stood before me and commanded me to +Watch.+
For all its interest in sexuality, the being had no sex of its own that I could see. The area between its legs was smooth and featureless.
But then as I watched it began to develop a small bulge that grew and thickened and grew and thickened and grew and thickened....
Even if I could have turned my head, I wouldn’t have been able to take my eyes off it.
+In order for us to understand sexuality,+ the creature told me, +it is necessary not only to experience other beings’ sexual feelings but to modify our own bodies to participate in sexual activity. We have grown quite adept at this over the past million years. The penetrative organ that I have grown is of course modelled upon your own, both internally and externally.+
Of course I couldn’t look down at my own erection, but if it looked anything like the creature’s new organ then it had grown more impressive than I ever imagined.
None of the other men was making a sound. I might at least have expected them to show some reaction at the sight of the newcomer’s newly-grown erection.
There seemed to be only one explanation for their silence: the creature had frozen them like me. I couldn’t help but appreciate the irony. At last the Shaar were getting a taste of their own medicine.
Picking me up effortlessly, the creature stood me upright in front of a tree and wrapped my arms around the trunk. Then it places its own arms around my chest and slid its new penis into me.
+My phallus is part of my bioengineered body,+ it informed me. +As such it is capable of secreting fluids with any desired property - in this case both stimulation and lubrication. I am sure this will be a remarkable experience for both of us.+
I couldn’t disagree. I already felt as if I was climaxing, even though physically I was nowhere near coming.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw other shafts of light descend from the glowing vessel. From the shafts emerged other creatures, each of which moved toward one of the frozen tribesmen.
What followed was an orgy, yet one which took place in almost complete silence. I knew that if the tribesmen were feeling anything like what I was experiencing they would be howling with unbearable pleasure, as would I. Instead we could only remain silent and still, living dolls to be used by the strangers until the end of time.
The being continued stroking and thrusting for what must have been two hours. I was convinced that I had reached the absolute limit of physical stimulation, until my climax propelled me into a completely new level of sensation that no words could begin to describe.
And as my body was overtaken by explosions of hyper-ecstasy, I felt myself rising. The being and I were inside one of the light beams, being carried up to its craft. All around us other beams were simultaneously lifting the Shaar tribesmen toward it as well.
Every sexually-mature male in the village was being abducted. It seemed the Shaar women and children would have to find another tribe to provide for them.
+This primitive world no longer has a place for you,+ the creature told me. +Your sexuality has evolved beyond its ability to satisfy you. In the Hall of Sexuality you will experience every sexual sensation of which life in our galaxy is capable. You and your fellow primitives have been granted the greatest honour that we can bestow.+
In my condition it was scarcely possible to think, let alone disagree.
On the third day of my expedition into Shaar territory I happened to notice a shiny object hanging upon a branch about ten cubits above ground level. Climbing up to reach it, I discovered that it was a small duraflex bag containing a notebook and pencil. The notebook was surprisingly well-preserved given the damp conditions, and upon returning to camp I examined it more closely. Inside the cover was a date, twenty years ago to the very moon. The rest of the book was filled with small but legible handwriting. It appeared to be the journal of the long-vanished Dr. Leemis.
I was thrilled to have made such an important discovery. At last, it seemed, I had discovered a clue that might solve the mystery of his disappearance.
In order to preserve the text of Leemis’ journal I immediately scanned the pages into my portable computer and transmitted a copy to the Archive. Only when I had completed that task did I set about reading the journal for myself. But as I read Leemis’ account of his time with the Shaar people, it soon became obvious that what I was reading could not possibly be true. It seemed that Leemis was either lying, or indulging in some bizarre joke, or insane.
Later, however, a fourth alternative occurred to me, one that suggested that Leemis was not mad, but was in fact reporting the truth as he saw it through a strangely distorted perception of reality.
The paradox in Leemis’ journal is obvious. If he really were profoundly paralysed, it would have been impossible for him to write his journal - let alone carefully wrap it in duraflex and tie it to a high branch to preserve it from the elements! And yet the tone of his writing leads me to suspect that he really did believe himself to be incapable of moving a muscle. How is it possible to explain this?
Consider this: Leemis claims to have been permanently paralysed by the Shaars’ arrow poison. In fact it is known from careful chemical analysis that if the poison does not stop the heart or lungs its effects will actually wear off within a few hours. However, it is also known that if mixed with another local herb the poison will also cause the mind to become extremely receptive to hypnotic suggestion; repeated doses will produce a permanent hypnotic state and increasingly realistic hallucinations.
I believe this is what happened to Leemis. The Shaar tribesmen injected him with a dart containing the paralytic and hypnotic drugs; while he was genuinely paralysed they performed the sexual acts upon him that he describes in such astonishing detail.
During the trance that followed the Shaar hypnotically implanted the belief that his paralysis was permanent, so that when he woke the next day he could not move despite the fact that the genuine paralysis had already worn off.
In other words, since he had been so powerfully conditioned to believe that he was paralysed, he effectively was paralysed; a prisoner, if you like, of his own mind.
In reality, of course, Leemis’ life was not sustained by magic. He had to move in order to eat, drink, urinate and defecate - and, of course, to write in his journal. Yet if Leemis genuinely believed he was incapable of moving, how could he have done so?
I suspect that at certain times each day Leemis would enter a deeper hypnotic state, during which he could move - yet without realising that he was moving!
I can scarcely imagine the kind of mental schism involved; a strange trance-like condition that allowed him to stand up and walk to where his journal was kept, carefully unwrap it from its duraflex bag, write the day’s entry then neatly pack it away again before going off to eat and perform his ablutions - all the while believing himself to be lying nearby, helpless as a statue!
The greatest irony is of course that if he had ever realised he was mobile, he could have walked the short distance to the transit window and returned home.
Instead, his hypnotic state began to affect his mind. His permanent erection and infinite sexual potency were almost certainly illusory, a common male fantasy manifesting themselves in his hallucinations, along with a previously suppressed attraction to his own gender.
If, as seems likely, the Shaar gave him repeated doses of the drug in order to reinforce his condition, he would have begun to hallucinate more and more wildly, which would explain his unlikely tale of the flying vehicle and of beings from another world. At the end of the journal he claimed to have been taken into outer space, yet I found the journal within forty cubits of the transit window. If only he could have realised how close he was to home!
The real end of the story may never be known. In the end his body probably couldn’t take any more of the drug and he never came out of his final trance. A tragic end for such a promising young researcher.
Perhaps it is better to imagine his final fate as he believed it to be: standing proudly on display as a nude statue in some fantastic alien museum, where he can contemplate the wonders of the universe in a state of eternal ecstasy. That is how I shall always try to imagine him.
I was wrong about Leemis. I realise that now. How could I have believed that his accounts were merely the result of a hypnotic delusion?
On the third day a Shaar patrol spotted me just as I was about to activate the transit window. Before I could step through I felt a sharp stinging sensation in my leg. I tried to pull out the dart, but even before my fingers could reach it my limbs had frozen into rigidity.
The three Shaar hunters took their time approaching. They knew there was no need to hurry. Locked in immobility as I was, I could do nothing but helplessly await their approach.
Nor did they hurry while they cut the clothes from my body, languidly licking and caressing each new patch of skin that their knives uncovered until my throbbing penis stood in wait for their patient lips and tongues. I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t protest. I couldn’t stop my body responding to their touch. Over the course of the next few hours I found myself drowning in a sea of orgasms, and no matter how many times I climaxed each one felt as fresh and exciting as the first orgasm I had ever had.
Later...much later...the hunters carried me in turns, one at my head, one at my feet, the third masturbating me continuously as he walked. In that fashion I eventually entered the village and was presented to the Chief, who repaid the compliment by entering me. Later, posed in a crouching position, I had the Chief in my anus and the other tribesmen in my mouth all night long. It was the first of many such nights.
How could I have believed that the paralysis was a mere delusion? For more than three years now I have lain helpless, never needing food or water, while the men of the tribe take turns to worship me as their new god of fertility and potency.
No. The paralysis is real. It is impossible for me to move, just as it was impossible for me to stand up just now, impossible for me to walk to the hollow tree in which my portable computer was hidden, impossible for me to set up the transmitting antenna and impossible for me to start the journal program.
Most of all, you must understand that it is impossible - completely impossible! - for me to be typing these words that you are reading even now.
Because, like Leemis, I am completely helpless. Completely. There is no doubt about that.
I can’t move. I will never move again.
I wonder how long it will be before the aliens come for me....