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Archive-name: Fantasy/alienlov.txt


Archive-title: My Alien Lover


I first saw the alien when I dropped in at the Gay Nineties club

after a hard day at the Minneapolis Grain Exchange.  It was not

too unusual to see aliens on T.V.  these days:  Earth had been

discovered by the expanding interstellar civilization three years

earlier, in 1993, but Minneapolis was still far enough off the

main commercial routes to make an alien appearance in person a

rare event.


Oh, I knew about the alien trade delegation in town, of course-

how could I have missed it with all the publicity?  Minnesota had

been suffering chronically depressed conditions in its agricul-

tural and mining industries for decades-the governor and the

mayors of the state's two largest cities, along with leading

members of the local business establishments were giving the

forthcoming conference all the hoopla they could muster.  It had

even been a hot topic of conversation in my own grain futures

firm, where I had worked since graduating from college four years

ago.  Still, I had hardly expected to get off work at ten in the

evening and find one of the aliens in a gay bar!


I had long been interested in this particular species of alien

because of its resemblance to a certain domestic animal I had a

thing about.  Unfortunately, the domestic animal was too small to

do much with without doing it serious injury and its larger

relatives were much too dangerous to fool around with.


The remote ancestors of the Ailourians had been an animal that

almost exactly resembled the Earthly domestic cat in external

appearance.  The species had taken to the trees and become arbo-

real hunters, developing digited hands, opposable thumbs and a

prehensile tail to aid their pursuit of prey from branch to

branch.  Later, when a drying of the climate caused their forest

habitat to shrink, they came down from the trees, increased in

size and evolved in intelligence just as we Earth humans had.


Thus, what I saw on entering the bar was essentially a six-foot-

six cat standing at the main bar, taking a swallow of his drink.

There were some differences, of course.  The forehead had moved

forward as it had in humans to accommodate the larger brain and

the paws had become hands with five fingers and a thumb.  But

there were few other changes, since the teeth and jaws had not

shrunk as they have with humans.  I could tell he was male from

his body size and his age must have been equivalent to the late

teens in humans, judging from the sleekness of his short black

fur and the tautness of his powerful muscles.  The jeweled medal-

lion about his neck proclaimed him a member of the other world's

noble class.  I could not place the meaning of the gem-studded

golden tiara encircling his brow, however.  He was liberally

adorned with numerous other expensive jewels, but the only item

of clothing he wore was a gem studded cloth-of-gold loin cloth

about his midsection.  A jeweled cloth-of-gold cape lay on the

bar stool next to him.  He took another swallow of his drink as I

moved towards him as if hypnotized.  He drew in on a cigarette,

expelling the smoke in an easy, relaxed stream through his nos-



My cock had sprung to attention as soon as I saw him, thrusting

urgently against the imprisoning fabric of my suit trousers, but

I realized I had to feel him out carefully.  I knew nothing about

how his culture felt about gays and, while those claws on his

hands and feet might look like human toenails and fingernails, I

knew that they could extend out into three-inch long scimitars

that could disembowel a man in less than a second.  Those power-

ful feline muscles alone could literally tear a human in two.

And those long canine teeth in his mouth could sever my head from

my body in a matter of seconds.


He would have to be equipped with such an array of natural arma-

ment, I reflected, to dare go alone into the central city of one

of Earth's urban areas wearing enough precious gems to equal the

gross national product of many third-world countries!  The rest

of the sparse week-night crowd in the bar apparently sensed the

potential danger too as they kept well away from him.


His tail stirred and his long white whiskers twitched as I came

up to the bar beside him.  His ears flattened back against his

head.  I lit a cigarette to cover my nervousness as I sat down on

the next stool.  Now that I was up close, I could see the answer

to a question that had long bothered me and which I had never

been able to make out from the brief T.V.  appearances of members

of this species.  Humans have the largest genitalia in proportion

to their body size of any animals on Earth and, from the long,

columnar enormity that strained against his loin cloth, I had a

feeling that whatever evolutionary forces had impelled this

species on its road to intelligence had apparently produced the

same result, crotchwise.


I took a final admiring sideglance at the contrast between my

wavy blond hair and his black silky fur before I made my move.  I

had to look up as I spoke since he had six inches in height on

me.  "Did you pick this bar for any special reason?" I asked,

trying to make my voice sound casual.


Two enormous, glowing green eyes speared me as he turned his head

and I was momentarily lost in the twin pools of luminescent fire.

I recovered my awareness in time to see his eyes flick downward

to the bulge in my crotch.  He leaned over towards me in a fluid,

feline motion.  "The same reason you're here," he purred in my

ear, with an unusual accent.


His long, raspy tongue flicked out then to lick my ear and I felt

a shock of icy coldness run through my entire body, as if I had

suddenly been flung into a bath of cold water.  I went wild.  My

hands reached up to pull him against me and I lost myself in the

feel of his fur and the musky odor of male cat scent.  He re-

sponded, continuing to lick my ears and face before his tongue

flicked into my open mouth.


We rose and moved towards the bar entrance together by common

unspoken consent.  He was slightly drunk and I became strongly

aware of the odor of alcohol on him mixed in with the male cat

scent and the tobacco aroma on his fur.  With the edges of my

mind I was aware of the shocked glances from the other patrons in

the place.  "I hope I know what I've gotten myself into!" I

thought.  "I won't be able to stop him if he decides to spray the

whole house, and I don't know how he'll get along with Alexander

and Hephaestion."


We didn't go to my place, however, heading instead for the gleam-

ing metallic saucer-shaped antigravity vehicle that he had parked

in the lot next to the bar.  A drunk staggered towards us, rais-

ing a broken bottle in his hand threateningly.  My new friend

hissed and arched his back.  I stepped forward intending to kick

the drunk in the balls and disable him before my friend got us

both involved in the first interplanetary murder case.  The sight

of the aliens unsheathed claws and gleaming white fangs penetrat-

ed even the drunks alcohol-fogged brain, and before I could reach

him, he staggered away in terror.


My new friend drew me into the circle of his arm as he operated

the vehicle's controls with one hand.  "What's your name?" I

asked as we ascended swiftly into the air.


"Kontar," he answered, "Kontar isem Taurid."


"Mine's Brad Carson," I replied.


The antigravity vehicle continued rising, soaring in one smooth

motion from the parking lot of the bar to the roof of the Amfac

Hotel, less than four blocks away.  Within a minute of leaving

the parking lot, we were setting down in the heliport on the

hotel's roof.  We took the elevator down to one of the penthouse



Our hands were all over each other as soon as we had entered the

luxurious suite.  He removed my suit coat and tie and undid the

buttons of my shirt while I merely had to unfasten the clasp of

his golden cape.  He removed my shoes and undid my pants while I

slid his loin cloth down over his legs.  Our cocks sprang free to

point at each other.  It is a standard joke about porn writing

that everyone has a twelve-inch cock, something very rare among

humans.  But here at last was the reality:  his twelve incher

dwarfed my own thick nine inches.


I shivered as his tongue licked my ear.  We half-fell, half-

pulled each other down on the wide expanse of the enormous water-

bed.  Then his rough cat tongue was flicking over my cock and

balls.  I twisted and cried out in my attempt to get away from a

pleasure too intense to stand.  He held me down while he rotated

into a sixty-nine position over me, thrusting his own throbbing

enormity down my throat while exquisite knives shot through my

cock as he began tonguing it again, more gently this time.


I sucked on that cat cock for dear life while the ecstatic tor-

ment shot through me from my crotch.  Several times he stopped

tonguing to lightly nick my meat with his teeth-not hard enough

to cut the skin but strong enough to prick it-driving me even



I wanted to hold back, but the pleasure was too intense.  I shot

my ball load deep inside him at about the same time his own

torrents of cat cum geysered forth into my throat.  I lapped up

every drop of his subtly-accented ball juice before I came up for



We clung together for several minutes and then he turned me over

and without a word slid into me with that enormous cock.  I began

to get hard again as his feline hugeness penetrated every recess

of my bowels.  I soon felt his vigorous maleness spurting forth

into me yet again.


I must admit I couldn't keep up with him.  Some members of the

Earthly cat family, lions for example have been known to mate

every fifteen minutes for twenty-four hours when a sexual partner

is available and Kontar was one of those members-and I was cer-

tainly available.  I must have come about six times before the

evening was over- he came at least twice as often.


Dawn was breaking when we lay against each other, our passion

spent.  Every last drop of tension from my previous hectic day at

the Grain Exchange had been drained out of me from our marathon

sexual orgy of the night before.  I lay on my stomach, warm and

happy while Kontar licked me from head to toe with his tongue.

"Will I see you again?" I asked my lover.


"Of course," Kontar answered.  "It should be obvious from last

night that I like you."


"Why don't you come to my place tonight?" I asked.  "The accommo-

dations aren't quite as luxurious as they are here but I have a

good job and you might find them adequate."


"I can make it about six," he replied.  "I have an important

conference today but should be free by then."


He rolled over and lit one of the unusual-appearing cigarettes I

had noticed earlier on the end table by his bed.  He exhaled the

smoke smoothly as he offered me one.  "It's been tested and shown

to be compatible with your metabolism.  At least it's no more

harmful than the native narcotic you Earthlings smoke."


I inhaled cautiously at first and tasted the unfamiliar spicy

tanginess as it rolled over my palate.  "You seem very young to

be entrusted with the responsibility of a major trade

conference," I remarked as I exhaled the smoke.


"Actually all the sons of the noble houses are expected to begin

taking on such responsibilities around my age," he replied.  "As

a scion of the royal house this conference would normally be

something I would have learned to handle several of your years

ago.  Arranging a trade deal for your state's meat and grain for

our mining colony on Antares IV isn't that complicated.  What I

am really here for is to set up a trade in some of your native

narcotics.  Your tobacco, for instance," he said pointing to the

pack of cigarettes lying next to my discarded clothing, "should

prove to be quite in demand among our people.  It's been shown to

be no more harmful to us than it is to you and our medical tech-

nology can forestall any damage it might do.  Your marijuana and

some of your stronger drugs should turn out to be the basis of a

lucrative trade also.  I'm afraid we'll have to ban the catnip

you sometimes give your domestic cats among our people, however.

It's been shown to set off a murderous killing frenzy in our

species and would do even more damage than it does if the user

weren't so uncoordinated and disoriented by its effects."


"A son of the royal house!" I exclaimed.  "I realized you must be

a member of your nobility from the medallion around your neck but

I didn't dream you would turn out to be a prince!"


"You can tell by the tiara around my head," Kontar replied.  "It

is an insignia that only members of the ruling family are allowed

to wear."


Since it was getting late, I showered, shaved, and had breakfast

in Kontar's suite before going directly to my job.  We nuzzled

each other affectionately before we parted.


I had worried about how my two cats, Alexander and Hephaestion,

would react when Kontar appeared, and when he arrived, it seemed

for a while that my fears were justified.  They arched their

backs and hissed as soon as they laid eyes on him and then took

refuge under the couch.  But he held several tempting morsels for

each of them just beyond their hiding place and meowed softly.

They poked their heads out cautiously and began to nibble.

Within ten minutes they were purring softly on his lap.


"I see now, Brad, that we were attracted to each other for simi-

lar reasons:  there is a small species much like your native

monkeys that we keep for domestic pets on my home world.  I've

always liked them but they're too small to do anything with

without hurting them.  I didn't have a chance to do anything

about my fantasies until I came to your world."


"How would your own people feel about your proclivities?" I

asked.  "I didn't know how your culture might feel about gays

when I approached you last night."


"Our culture has no problem with it," he answered.  "Of course,

as a prince of the royal house, I am expected to produce sons of

my own to carry on the royal line.  But there is a lesbian prin-

cess I know, a second cousin.  We have agreed that we will marry

when the time comes and that she will receive my sperm by artifi-

cial insemination.  No one will care what we do outside our

marriage as long as the next generation of Taurids comes along."


Another fear was allayed after I had put dinner on the table.

With those powerful teeth and jaws, he would have been able to

gobble his food directly from the plate.  But whatever cultural

forces had operated during his people's long climb to civiliza-

tion had apparently produced the custom of eating with utensils,

or else he had been carefully trained in their use before being

sent to negotiate with Earthlings.  He manipulated the knives and

forks and used his napkin as correctly as any member of Earth's

social upper crust could have.  "I wasn't sure your people would

use knives and forks, since your jaws and teeth haven't shrunk

like ours," I finally ventured.


"The custom of eating with utensils has been long established on

Ailouros," he replied with a smile, "although our own eating

utensils are somewhat different from yours.  I was trained in the

correct use of your own implements before I came here, of



After dinner, we took our liqueurs into the living room.  Kontar

lit a cigar as he sat down on the couch and handed one to me.

"I'll stick to cigarettes," I said, motioning it away.  "I tried

one of those once during my early teens and was sick as a dog for

a whole day."


"That's probably because you inhaled," he replied.  "Also, your

body wasn't used to tobacco then.  I brought these because

they're just right for a beginner.  Don't inhale; just take it

into your throat and taste the flavor."


I inhaled cautiously.  "The flavor does have something to recom-

mend it," I thought.  I inhaled again when I felt no rumbles

portending an impending volcanic explosion from my stomach and

leaned back against Kontar's muscular arm.  I took a sip of my

cordial.  I was conscious of the softly silken feeling of the fur

on his arm against my neck and of the powerful feline muscles

rippling beneath.


We told each other something more about ourselves while we re-

laxed with our drinks and cigars.  I told him about my struggles

growing up in a poor family in Northeast Minneapolis and my fight

to acquire an education.  He told me more about his life as a

royal prince.  It seemed that he was not some distant collateral

relative of the king but was actually fourth in line to the



He leaned over and licked my ear as we crushed out the remains of

our cigars.  I shivered and jerked as the cold fire shot through

me once again.  Kontar's licking my ear was turning out to be a

sure way of driving me wild.  I had once had a domestic cat lick

my ear and it had sent the same electric shiver through me, but

not as strongly as this!  Kontar continued licking my ear while I

writhed in his unbreakable grip.  "Your dinner was wonderful," he

purred in my ear as he unbuttoned my shirt.  "But now the real

fun begins.  I don't think we'll have any problem entertaining each

other for the rest of the evening, do you?"


My cock was twitching uncontrollably by the time he got my pants

off.  I shot into him as soon as his tongue rasped over it.  He

held me down while I struggled vainly to get away from a pleasure

so powerful I couldn't stand it.  I was weak and trembling by the

time the final delicious spasm shot out of my balls.  We contin-

ued to make love through the night.  Fortunately, my inability to

come as often as he did did not matter since he loved to fuck and

could go on for long periods of time before cumming.  Eventually,

he even let me take him in his tight, feline ass.  The feel of

his furry asshole around my cock was sublime.


Our affair was bound to attract notice, of course.  The first to

comment was the gay community- and there were people who disap-

proved, even though Kontar and I were not hurting anyone, and

those others took it upon themselves to express their disapprov-

al.  These were the same people who always dump on the sexual

minorities within our community-people into S&M, drag queens,

handballers, transsexuals, anyone who isn't as "respectable" in

the eyes of straights as possible-and the only reason they don't

make themselves really respectable to the straights and denounce

just being gay is that they can't stop being gay themselves.  The

first phone call came one night during the second week of our



"Is this Brad Carson?" The voice asked.


"Yes," I replied.


"I've been watching how you're into alien bestiality with that

cat and YOU'RE SICK!" he said, hanging up.


I blew up.  What the snippy little queen didn't realize was that

I made enough money to afford one of those phone attachments that

display the number of whomever is calling you.  I dialed him

right back.


"Listen you gutless faggot," I said when he answered, "why don't

you take your anger out on whoever made you so hostile instead of

dumping on other gay people?  Go home and beat up the bullies in

your school yard or your parents if they abused you.  Take up

martial arts training if you aren't able to do it now."


"Fuck you," a snippy-sounding voice replied.


"You can say 'fuck you' for the rest of the evening," I snapped

back, "and it won't change the fact that you're no better than a

straight bigot who makes obscene phone calls to gays.  If you

ever wonder what motivates them to go out of their way to hurt

someone who hasn't done anything to them, you only have to look

at yourself.  Well, if it takes fear of the straights to keep

some of you faggot snips civil, I'm letting you know that I'm

just as capable as a straight guy of giving you a busted lip if

you mouth off to me."  I hung up with a bang.


Of course the snip had to get revenge.  With that kind of anger

built up over years of being told by the society that he wasn't

worth shit because he was gay, his only other choice was to

direct it onto the straights but he didn't have the guts to do

that.  He contacted a straight reporter he knew on the local

paper and the word also got back to a reporter for our local T.V.

station, one who had already managed to get a gay judge thrown

off the bench for a consensual relationship with a male hustler

who was a bit less than two months short of being 18-even though

sixteen is the age of consent in Minnesota.


Kontar and I were having dinner in a restaurant when the snippy

bitch queen showed up with the T.V.  reporter, a cameraman and

the newspaper reporter in tow.  Kontar knocked the reporter and

the cameraman clear across the restaurant with one blow of his

powerful hand pads.  I was glad to see that he controlled himself

that much.  If he had used much more force, we would have had two

dead men on our hands.  I left the snippy queen writhing on the

floor after I knocked the wind out of him and left the reporter

with a broken jaw.  I'd been waiting for the chance to do that

for years.


For a while, it looked like the trade negotiations were going to

be sunk by a major media blowup.  Word reached the rest of the

alien delegation and got back to Ailouros.  I was present in his

suite when his triple-great grandfather, the sovereign of all

Ailouros and Emperor of the Ailourian Hegemony called.  The

hyperspatial waves carried Kontar and his grandfather's images

across the light years, while the two hissed and yowled at each

other in their harsh, meowing native language as I stood in full

view of the holovisor camera.  If Kontar was willing to stand up

for me to his progenitor and sovereign, I sure as hell wasn't

going to slink away, even if I couldn't understand a word of what

they were saying.


At length, the dual cacophony of hisses, yowls and arched backs

wound down and they concluded their conversation on a normal

level.  After switching off the apparatus, Kontar belted down a

triple screwdriver before he pulled me down on the bed beside

him.  "Thontaur said everything would be all right if I could

still pull off this trade deal," he told me.  "I told him I could

handle it."


He was right, the commercial establishment in this state really

wanted that trade agreement and what the establishment in this

state wants, it gets.  The reporters were quashed and their

stories killed.  Oh, I know that the powers that be have a liber-

al image in Minnesota but there is an iron hand beneath those

velvet gloves.


With the impending successful conclusion of the negotiations and

Kontar's departure, the moment that both of us had avoided talk-

ing about was fast approaching.  Kontar was the first to bring it

up, about a week before his departure, one night when he was at

my house.


"Have you ever thought about coming back to Ailouros with me,

Brad?" he asked.


I lit a cigar before I answered.  "It just wouldn't work," I

said.  "I know we like each other."  I hesitated before going on.

"Maybe I should even say I love you.  But I couldn't go to Ailou-

ros as your pet human.  I had to fight like hell to get off the

streets of Northeast Minneapolis and get where I am now.  I'm

supporting myself and doing a damn good job of it.  I won't

change that-even for you."


Kontar drew me into the curve of his arm before he answered.

"And I love you, human.  You misunderstand my proposal.  We want

to employ you as our liaison with Earth in carrying out the trade

agreement.  You'll be well paid-extremely well paid since you

will need to be very wealthy indeed to live in a manner befitting

your position as the true beloved of the fourth in line to the

throne of Ailouros!"


I shook my head, "It still won't work.  I'll give up everything I

have here, I'll be left with nothing if we should ever fall out.

I still can't do it."


Kontar nibbled on my ear.  I was acutely aware of his musky,

male cat odor, mixed with the smell of cigar on his pelt.  "You

still misunderstand.  You'll be working for a joint Ailourian-

Earth consortium and your company has agreed as part of the trade

deal to take you back if you ever want to return to Earth.

You'll have to come back frequently in any event to properly

oversee the expanding trade between our people.  I regret that,

but I knew you'd never consent to be a kept boy."


Kontar's tongue flicking down my throat cut off my joyful assent.


The following week was hectic, as I had to arrange for a caretak-

er for my house and wind up my other affairs in that time.  There

was an expensive formal dinner to celebrate the agreement the

night before we left.  I caught a glimpse of the figure I cut in

my tight-fitting dinner jacket in one of the mirrors as I circu-

lated around the ballroom exchanging pleasantries with the

guests.  All the leading big-monied families were there, the

governor, along with the mayors of Minneapolis and St.  Paul.  I

had to bite my tongue when talking to some of them who had pre-

sided over a six-year wave of arrests of gays in adult bookstores

and parks, and who had done nothing about police brutality

against gays.


My former boss was there too, of course, congratulating me on my

success-quite a change for a man who had had to struggle to keep

from denouncing me for being openly gay.  The only reason he

struggled was because he realized my value to the company.


The extravagant doings finally came to an end in the early morn-

ing hours and Kontar and I wound up in his suite.  We were sit-

ting on the edge of the enormous bed when Kontar asked, "Have you

got all your things packed for tomorrow?"


"Yes," I replied.  "Everything that hasn't already been shipped

up to the starship is right there in those bags over in the



Kontar crushed out the last of his joint before he began to undo

the button of my dinner jacket and I began to remove the ceremo-

nial bronze armor he had worn to the party.  "Good," he said as

he licked my ear.  "We won't have anything to distract us for the

rest of the night."


Well, that all happened a hundred years ago.  So you may ask how

can I still appear to be a man of twenty-five?  Simple.  You

should have figured it out when I mentioned the argument between

Kontar and his triple great grandfather.  The Ailourian anti-

aging treatments were easily adapted to human physiology and I

was the first to benefit.


Kontar is now the sovereign of all Ailouros and Emperor of the

Ailourian Hegemony.  The relatives who were ahead of him in line

all died in the Saurian and Avoide wars.  But Kontar proved to be

a consummate military genius upon his ascent to the throne and

those former enemy empires are now in their proper places.  I

don't have to worry about losing him to a similar death in bat-

tle.  Yes, we're still together.  Oh, we've both had many others

over the years, of course, Ailourian, human, and many other

species.  But we both agree that we are each the one being who

will always be special to the other.


With the anti-aging treatments, I figure we've both got at least

another two centuries of virile young studhood ahead of us!




     I awoke and prepared myself, my assigned valet dressing me

in the ceremonial armor for the High Mass that I was to attend.

It was heavy, gleaming, powerful, expensive.  I would not own any

like it until after my first sacks as a Templar, and even then I

would wear it rarely.  I was girt with a weapon that favored me;

clean of line, yet not bright of blade.  A bright blade is soon

to rust, and then must be cleaned; this scouring often harming

the blade's integrity.


     It was no ordinary High Mass, for this was the day that I

became ordained as a Knight Templar.  It was a full ceremony, and

a long one; thankfully in the shade of a elaborate church with

cool, vaulted ceilings.  My thoughts ran back to my vigil the

night before, lasting many hours, and what I felt as I stood

guard over the seals of the nine grandmaster's of the Order.


     My father was a mercenary, but became a Landed Knight

through service.  I, his third son, could inherit nothing but his

wisdom and skill, both of which he imparted to me in all their

worth.  He was determined that I join the Knights Templar, for

all the right reasons.  They were powerful within the Church;

they were rich, rich, rich; and they were perhaps the most elite

force to exist.  I trained pretty much for all my life to be

worthy of them, and I was accepted as an Initiate, to serve for a

minimum of three years to prove my worth, and in that time, I was

squire to several knights.


     My father had hinted at it, and so did those I serve.  There

was something especial about the Templars, something beyond

esprit de corps, personal skill, and perfected field technique.

I heard many stories of the power of God rushing through the

Knights as a group, the stories of the feats of the grandmasters

of the order and what they were capable of, but I only saw it



     My master at that time, Andre Glaucon, had been a Knight for

several years; he came into the order rich, and was known to rely

on his armor more than truly necessary.  He was masterful with

the lance and the spear (he learned the spear coming from the

outland regions) but poor with the sword, at which I was better

than many Knights.  I battered him about the field with the

practice-sword, until it became obvious that I was training him,

and not the other way around.  Gradually, he built up a rage, a

rage that intensified his skill instead of degrading it.  Then,

he exploded, and threw a blow so fast I blocked only by instinct,

and still it clove my shield in twain.  With a wooden sword, he

did this!


     My return blow knocked him a dozen feet, but just made him

even more angry.  He charged me, and I stepped aside, slamming

him on the back, but he was without feeling.  He spun, and his

blow shattered my practice sword into flinders in my grasp.  I

threw him to the ground, pinning him, but his strength was demon-

ic, and I could not hold him despite his poor leverage.


     But just as I lost my grip, he calmed, and regained himself.

The next day, I was assigned to another knight.  Perhaps I had

seen something of what makes the Templars the holy warriors of

God.  I would have to be careful not to fly into such a rage

myself, lest the circumstances truly warrant the use of such



     My mind flicked back to the ceremony.  Strangely, I did not

feel empowered by the High Mass.  As I drank the wine and ate the

wafer, rather, all power seemed drained from me, and I felt

light, empty and powerless.  I managed to walk to the Master for

the rest of the ceremony, receiving my blow and my knighthood.  I

must have blacked out somewhere in the run to leap upon my steed,

and I do not remember making the strike, but I did, and I rode

forth from the town, clinging to my steed like a babe.


     Once away from the Church's grounds, I felt centered upon my

horse.  It was a Liath Mactha, a grey of battle, and power flowed

up through its beating hooves to me from the earth.  I felt well

again, and I rode to the castle of the Templars where I was first

assigned, there being no immediate fighting.  I arrived just

after dinner to much cheering and fanfare, received a repast, and

joyously took another heated bath.  My last conscious thought, as

I luxuriated in the huge bed and clean sheets that were now my

right, was a delirious joy at the quality of the plumbing system

of the castle.


    I awoke when I realized that I was lying on stone, and not

sheets.  Sensing motion about me, I leapt up into a cloud of

incense, and weaved about an empty-handed blow at me.  Unbidden,

my motions were swept into a rhythm of chantings and beatings of

drums, and I hop-scotched over intricate chalk lines in the dimly

lit, smoke-filled room.  Lashing out with a foot I caught my

assailant in the side, crashing him to the ground.  He was up in

an instant, and rushed me.  I took a stance, and felt the power

flow up from the earth into me, filling me strangely, rushing

into every hollow drained by the High Mass.  The fight became a

dance, and my opponent could not touch me; every time I struck

him, his power exploded out as if he were a powder puff, entering

me.  His steps grew weaker, and I drained him dry, leaving him

lifeless upon the floor.


     I felt an exaltation.  I had, through skill, taken another's

power, strength, and life for my own.  I was the conqueror.  I

stepped into a larger circle, delirious with my new power, and

confronted another man, wearing no clothes as I did but his face

covered by a monkey's mask.  His fighting was clever and power-

ful, canny, but mine was tactical and graceful, control and

skill.  I left him unconscious and made his power my own as well.

Next, I fought a man with the horns of a stag, in a larger cir-

cle.  He bounded and leapt, and attempted to take the fight to

me, but I made myself the Hunter, and he, too fell before my

onslaught, and I added his power to mine.


    I grew aware of the hugeness of the chamber, and many men

chanting outside in a language I did not know.  Some wore robes,

most wore only paint.  I felt larger, larger than life, full of

power, and stepped into the fourth circle.  I saw that I was

heading towards a huge dais, and the pentacles into which I

stepped became more and more intricately detailed.  Perhaps some

part of me might have wanted to flee, but it was long subsumed by

the huge power residing within me.


     The fourth circle held the Giant, who looked down at me and

grinned evilly.  He threw a boulder at me, which I shattered with

a slap, and then I raised him off the ground as Heracles did to

Antaeus, and crushed the life out of him, redoubling my strength.

In the fifth circle, I slew the Minotaur by taking each of his

horns in a hand, and breaking open his skull.  I was imbued with

the powers of a demigod at least by this time, walking into the

sixth circle, the one holding the dragon.  The fight was hard,

the flames of the dragon almost enough to make me falter, but

then I realized that they were power too, and took them for my

own, absorbing it into my shield while I made my heart's thrust

with my blade.  The dragon's blood fountained out, covering me,

and by its power my skin was made invulnerable like that unto the

skin of Achilleus.


     I stepped triumphant into the final circle, the most intri-

cately drawn.  The chanting and drumming reached their peak and

stayed, and the fog of incense cleared, allowing me to see who

sat upon the dais, who sat upon the throne, who presided over the



     The ancient texts named him Baphomet; Satan Mekratrig's

warrior-duke.  My sword and shield were limp in my grasp as I

looked up, as he was many hundreds of feet tall.  His head was

the head of an ibex, with the outward-spiralling horns, gazing

inscrutably down upon me with the eyes of a beast.  His shaggy

chest was traced with scars delineating his prowess in battle,

inflicted perhaps by a flaming sword.  He stood, rising from his

throne, on the legs of a goat, stepping into the seventh pentacle

on cloven hooves.  In his right hand he held a sword cold as ice,

and his left stroked his impossibly huge phallus.  As the warri-

or-magus, he wielded the primal Wand, and his scent struck me a

nigh-physical blow with the power of his maleness.  I staggered,

and could not bear the weight of my shield, letting it drop into

the abysmal pit below my feet, lost.


     His sword came down in a strike of stunning complexity.

Each swath of ice threatening to leach my power I blocked, until

finally the blades struck, and mine was shattered through no

fault of mine own; the block was perfect but the sword insuffi-



     Baphomet's grin was terrible to behold.


     He held out his hands, inviting the challenge.  The power

rushed back through me, and I accepted, locking my fingers with

his, using all my strength in the age-old game.  He towered above

me, pushing down, but still I held, and pushed back.  His

strength doubled, and doubled again; still I held, and forced

back.  I became a statue, exerting all my strength while his

doubled and pressed ever down against me.  Then, his height

became in relation to mine, and his cock curved up from his

bestial crotch, engorged with blood, to my mouth.  To break my

stance would be to be crushed.  The head of his phallus pressed

hugely against my lips, rubbing and wettening them.  With his

strength ever doubling, I could not help but open my mouth to

breath, allowing the cock entry.  Shifts of his body and torso in

attempts to dislodge my stance rubbed the head against my help-

less, panting, licking tongue, overwhelming me with the power of

his scent and taste.


     His strength redoubled again, and I began to bend, my mouth

now filled with his Wand.  Still his strength increased, and I

had to move.  I twisted his arms in my grip unexpectedly, stepped

in, felt his weight shift as I pulled him to throw over my hip,

his right hoof scraping, unsteady,


     And he pushed me laughably to the hard floor, spinning and

pinning me on my back.  Reorienting around the tip of his cock in

my mouth, he thrust it home to the back of my throat and beyond.

It slid, oiled, for an eternity until my face was embedded be-

tween his hairy thighs and held tight there, only able to breathe

the aroma of his heavy, full sacks.  Though I could not see it,

his tongue serpent-like struck between my legs and slid up be-

tween my cheeks, forcing me open and greasing me with its slime.


     Finally he released my throat, allowing me to breathe.  My

respite was only momentary, as he forced me to my hands and knees

and mounted me like a beast.  Time lost meaning as I became his

concubine, his tongue wrapping about my neck as a collar, invad-

ing my helpless mouth and throat, and reaching down to where his

hands brutally held my cock and balls by virtue of which to pull

me back and forth on his rod in a piston-like action.  I was

helpless as the object of his demonic lust, lost in sensation,

able only to serve as I was subjugated by his true power.


     I began to explode, unable to contain him as his power

spurted forth into me, coating me for faster, more powerful

thrusts and explosions.  My every cell was inundated with his

lust, heated to white-hot, until I could take it no more and lost



     I awoke the next day, and knew that now, I was truly a

Templar.  I felt the power of the demonseed filling me, and knew

that I could release it at will, that I had the true power within

me, and I was Baphomet's, now and forever.



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