Kasyn, the Spunk-Prince

Jaustin sweltered and swooned under the radiant skin-heat of the spunk-angel of Mars, under the glossy lust-erect wings and sweet-spicy fuck-funk of the new Emperor Jade-Mothra. “Your pretty body fascinates me, Earth-boy,” said the angel. “All these ornate drawings upon your soft skin.” Jaustin laughed at the absurdity: that his very fit and inked but still utterly “normal” body was somehow fascinating to this winged man. The angel probed Jaustin’s belly and flank and chest and armpits with his fingers and also with his wing tips. A wing tip left shiny droplets of sex-ichor on the hairs of the dark trail between his navel and his pubic thatch. Occasionally, when tickled, Jaustin giggled and squirmed. 

To Jaustin, Jade-Mothra’s body was the thing that was fascinating: aside from the exoticism of the wings, the angel’s other limbs seemed almost too long, and so cut with muscle definition as to seem like something wholly implausible, almost like he was a living manga character; and his belly rippled with what seemed like too many abs; and his prick was perhaps not any thicker than Jaustin’s but it was at least three inches longer. It hung stiff between them almost parallel to both their bellies, terminating in a thick blunt hooded arrowhead that made Jaustin’s asshole clench at the thought of it breaching his hole. Jaustin would have reached up to touch it by now, but the angel playfully pinned his wrists to the mattress beneath them.

“I have heard,” said Jade-Mothra, “that Prince Kyler has a son who has a pussy like a girl, and that a male can make him pregnant.”

“You know about Naxon?” Jaustin was surprised. “It’s not been that long since his, uh,  gender-revision procedure.”

“So it’s true!” Jade-Mothra fluffed his feathers and Jaustin felt and tasted a fine spray fall on his face. “I’d like to fuck such a boy and fill him full with my white juice and see if he’ll make a baby with wings for me.”

“Yes, that would be amazing! In fact, I have fucked him.” Jaustin’s dick stiffened further and twitched at the recollection of losing a hot slick nut inside Naxon’s clenching vaj. “I knocked him up and he would have had my pup but their doctor gave him a drug to stop it. I was punished for fucking him without wrapping my cock. That was right before I left for Mars.”

Jade-Mothra lowered his face to Jaustin’s, but stayed just far enough away that their lips could not meet. “And how did they punish you?”

“Prince Kasyn beat my ass with a wooden paddle, and then he and Prince Kyler’s five sons gang-fucked me.”

“They raped you as your punishment?”

“No! Well, I was totally cool with it, anyway, and it was better than the paddle. That shit hurt!And I would not have told them no anyway. And even if I had, it was six on one, you know? And these are some pretty tough boys. They would have had their way with me one way or another for sure.”

The angel grinned. “I am alone with you—one on one—but I have thrice your physical strength. If I wanted to have my way with you, I could do so no matter how much you fought it.”

Jaustin laughed. “Believe me, I’m not going to fight you! In fact, I’m lying here underneath you wondering if you are ever going to fuck me! Though I’ll admit that I’m a little scared of that giant fucking cock!”

“Yeah, I’ll probably fuck you a lot of times during your stay on Mars. But first, you’re going to fuck me.” Jade lowered his lips to Jaustin’s and licked them. “You’re going to give me your seed, Jaustin Moss.”

The realization dawned over Jaustin. “Is it true that you, um, ‘angels’ can get pregnant? Like Naxon?”

“Our anatomy is a lot different than Naxon’s, but it’s true. In fact, by the time our little date here ends, I will be pregnant. By you.”

Jaustin’s dong pulse-dripped a slick stream of pre-jac, and his nuts ached as if he’d not let out a load in days. This is real. I’m going to breed the Emperor! The fucking new Emperor is going to have my kid!

From Kyler’s journal…

I awoke just before sunrise, Kasyn in bed next to me, his naked body uncovered. He lay on his back, breathing softly, his penis sleep-stiff. I started to put my mouth to it, determined to either awaken him with a blowjob or make him cum in his sleep, when I realized to my great dismay that I had let his twentieth birthday pass yesterday without any commemoration. Carefully, just barely touching him with my tongue, I licked the boy’s knob right at that line where his foreskin almost but not quite covers his head, Kasyn murmured and stretched his arms. Eyes still closed, he said, “What are you doing, baby? You want a taste?” He reached forward and pinched my left nipple between two fingers. “You thirsty? I have to piss so bad, you’ll need to drink that down before you can have any of the sweet white stuff unless you let me get up and go to the bathroom first.”

I sighed and pressed my mouth to his belly and kissed his navel. “Yesterday was your twentieth birthday, and I did nothing to celebrate it. I am very embarrassed about it, and I am sorry.”

He pushed the fingers of both his hands through my hair and pressed my face tighter to his belly. “Where I come from, it’s really pretty bourgeois to celebrate birthdays, Kyler. Anyway, I forgot about it, too!” He laughed and pulled my head up and rolled me over onto my back. And then he rolled up on top of me, smooth thighs on my hips. “So I guess I am twenty now! Just another day, baby!”

Because twenty marks another decade, it often seems like a bigger deal than it real is: but being a male, Kasyn was today legally still just as much a “boy” as he was when he was ten. He’d not be a legal full-citizen voting “man” for another ten years. But I still wanted to acknowledge it somehow.

“You want to give me a gift?” He tickled my flanks, making me squirm beneath him.

“Of course!” I tried to seize his hands but he wriggled free. 

Suddenly, with a very serious countenance, he gazed down at me and said, “I have to think that all of this trouble that’s about this house lately is at least in part your fault, Kyler!”

“My fault!”

“Of course! And it’s because you are by nature a very bad boy!” He pinched my nipples again, harder this time.

“I most certainly am not!” My cock ached. It pressed upward against Kasyn’s ass-crack.

“I want you to be a good boy, my husband, but I don’t think you ever will be unless you receive some discipline.”

I was so instantly and intensely aroused that I felt light-headed for a moment. “You may be right. What do you propose? To correct my behavior.”

Kasyn grinned. “Obviously, the paddle!”

“How many strokes?”

“Oh, I’d say eighteen might beat some goodness into you.”

I gaped in faux horror. “That’s entirely sadistic! I’ve never given any of my sons more than…sixteen?”

“Keep talking and I’ll make it twenty!”

Moments later, I submitted to Kasyn’s harsh and implacable rules.

Meanwhile on Mars…

It took a moment for Jaustin to learn the correct way to work his prick into Jade-Mothra for the specific purpose of getting the Martian angel pregnant. Jade helped by first inviting Jaustin to finger-probe inside his asshole where, to Jaustin’s amazement, there was another hole. “You have to get your penis in there at the right angle,” explained the angel, “so that when you cum your sperm goes into my womb and not just into my gut like it does when you jizz inside an Earth boy.”

After a couple of attempts, Jaustin managed the correct insertion and he was thrilled at how tight and uncommonly hot this unusual sheath felt over his lust-engorged dong. He thrusted into this passage for a couple minutes, slowly, hoping to delay his climax for a long as he could stand so that he might enjoy the tight grip of Jade-Mothra’s cunt around his cock for as long as possible. 

And then something new happened: his dick felt like it might explode as microsecond blasts of intense pain, relieved instantly by surges of the most intense pleasure, surged from his crotch and up and out through his entire body. He screamed, “Oh fuck! Am I cumming? What’s happening!”

“Stay calm,” Jade-Mothra said, eyes locked with Jaustin’s. “It happens sometimes. It’s normal. Even for Earth boys. Your cock is knotting.” Gasping, the angel continued: “You might feel an intense need to pull it out of me, but you won’t be able to until you lose your juice inside me. And your orgasm is going to last a long time.”

And Jaustin fell into that climax, and he moaned and gasped and literally cried, tears falling from his eyes onto the angel’s chest, and he shuddered as blasts of spunk shot deep into Jade-Mothra’s womb. And it went on and on like that for what, to Jaustin, felt like two or three full minutes, throbbing out endless pulses of ball-juice. This is not possible, he thought. Even I can’t cum this fucking much! He wondered if he was actually pissing, but he knew he was not. Just when he thought he might literally black out, the impossibly lengthy orgasm finally ended, his knob deflated and slid out of Jade-Mothra’s slot, and he rolled over onto his back next to Jade, gasping and still crying a little bit. Then he was seized by raucous laughter that persisted for a couple more minutes while that angel gazed at him, evidently amused by this Earth boy and his body’s rapturous reaction to knocking up an angel of Mars. 

Once he had recovered enough to speak, Jaustin said, “What that actual fuck, dude! What did you do to me?”

The angel brushed a wing tip over Jaustin’s sweaty brow. “Nothing other than mating with you very successfully. We are both at maximum fertility. There’s no doubt that your child is already starting to grow inside me.”

From Kyler’s journal…

As a prelude to my punishment, Kasyn bound my wrists behind my back with leather cuffs and he directed me to ascend the spiral stair that led from our bath area upward to the roof-top deck. The newly-risen sun bathed the deck and its many potted plants and statuary in hot red summer morning light. I wondered if he’d force me to lie down belly-down on a chaise to receive my beating. But with the paddle, he directed me to the front of the soapstone wet bar and ordered me to assume the correct position, my hands braced against it, in that same stance of submission into which I’d put my sons so many times since they’d been old enough to receive corporal punishment.

Kasyn stepped around to the back of the bar to look me in the eyes. “I know,” he said, “that this will be infinitely more painful to me than it will be to you. Do you understand why I am doing this to you anyway? Why I’m going to spank your naked ass with this paddle until you are screaming and crying?”

I was amazed that I managed to say in a whisper, without cracking up, without breaking character in the least, “It’s so that I can learn to be a good boy, Daddy.”

“You want to be good for me, don’t you, Kyler?”

I whispered, “Yes, Daddy.”

He stepped back around the bar, behind me, and said, “One.” He wasn’t fucking around: that first whack nearly knocked the breath out of me.

From a radio news report…

A small but persistent protest continues outside the Aetheric Palace, snarling traffic in that district of the city, as word comes in a brief statement from the Prince’s press office that Prince Kyler’s agents have entered the Holy Keep of the Chaos Ejaculatum in the city center and taken Pope Nazrata II into what they term “protective custody pending the end of civil unrest in the city.” An official of the Church, speaking on condition of anonymity alleges that, in fact, the Prince’s so-called Apparatus Priapus, have seized the Holy Keep by force and are holding the Pope against his will in an interrogation chamber. A masked Cthulhist priest, identifying himself only as “Elisha” and as a “spiritual advisor to the Prince,” said in a brief appearance near the palace gate this morning that the Pope is in good care and that any rumors to the contrary are unfounded. We will have more detailed coverage of these developments at the six o’ clock hour.

Later on Mars…

I need sleep! I need Radon! Jaustin thought, trudging the final flight of narrow steps to the round door of their “nest.” He dreamed of dropping hard onto the bed, clutching Radon close to his body and sleeping for a day. Or, fucking Radon and then sleeping for a day. Or! he laughed, sleeping for a day with occasional fuck-breaks!

Jaustin carried out the little crawl-and-roll maneuver that he’d developed for passing through these round door-holes, landing on his feet on the inside. He was startled by the presence of what appeared to be an angel, hidden mostly in shadow in a small reading alcove, the light of the reader not quite hitting his face. 

“Um, hi,” said Jaustin. “Where is Radon?” His stomach sank when he realized that he may have entered the wrong chamber.

But then a familiar laugh, and “Jaustin! I am Radon!”

Jaustin stood stunned and stiff as the winged creature eased out of the alcove, emerged into better light and grinned at him. “I’ve only been gone since this morning!” Jaustin cried. “And you’ve changed this much already?”

Radon stretched and fluffed his wings. They were smaller than those of most of the other angels, and fluffier as if covered in an undercoat of down. “I’m just as surprised as you are, believe me! And I’ve been hungry as fuck all day. I ate an entire wok-full of shrimp fried rice like an hour ago and I could do it again!” Smiling he stepped closer. “And I’ve been jerking off, too. Like, constantly.” And then, like a revelation breaking wide in his mind, Jaustin saw Radon’s penis, now much bigger than before and more than ever before like Jaustin’s own. “I know,” Radon said, “that my body was weird compared to those of most boys, but I got sexual pleasure in a lot of other ways that didn’t involve having a ‘normal’ cock. But now that I have this fucking thing, I wonder if I will ever get used to it, to this crazy need to constantly use it! Did you?”

“Did I what?” Jaustin pecked a kiss and a tiny lick upon Radon’s chin.

“Get used to your dick.”

“Well, I’ve never not had it, so I guess so! But if you mean all the jerking off, then no: I always want it. I was so fucking horny as a kid that I was doing it every day for years before I could even make any ball-juice!”

“Really!” Radon grinned widely.

“Fuck yeah! I’d hump my pillow dreaming I was doing it hard to another boy or sometimes a girl, and I’d do it until I was all shuddery and I couldn’t stand to touch my dick anymore because it was too tingly. And then I’d do it again a little while later. Imagine my joy when one great day some juice finally came out!”

“A lot of juice,” said Radon, “came out of mine today. Can you smell it?”

Jaustin inhaled. That weird spice, like cloves and sweat! “Is that what that smell is everywhere in this place? Cum? Angel-cum?”

“That, and sweat, and this ooze that shines my wings when I am really horny!”

Jaustin reached with both hands to stroke Radon’s wings. They were wet, but it wasn’t quite a wetness like water or even a wetness like pre-jac, but one that was warm to the touch and slippery, almost oily. He pulled his hands away and pressed them to his face and inhaled. He licked his palms…and then he jizzed in his jock.”Oh fuck!”

“What?” Radon jumped back a half-step. “Are you okay?”

Jaustin unhooked the fly-clasps of his shorts, let them drop to his ankles and he showed Radon the evidence of his spontaneous orgasm, oozing like clotted white snot through the black pouch of his jock. A heavy pearl of it detached from the black mesh and splattered on the floor between them.

“You’re happy to see me, I guess?” Radon tipped forward and kissed Jaustin on the chin.

“Fuck me! Right now! With that! In my ass!” Jaustin grabbed Radon’s stone-stiff stick and tugged on it.

“Uh, okay!” Radon seemed to blush throughout his body. “Let me find some kind of lube, I guess?”

“What do you think this is?” Jaustin peeled off his jock carefully, still containing within it the majority of his boy-spew. “Here, look.” He wrapped the pouch around the end of Radon’s knob and smeared his boyfriend’s arrowhead and shaft with his just-discharged cum. And he spat on it for good measure. 

Momentarily, Jaustin was bent forward over the edge of their bed, knees on the floor, with Radon behind him, also on his knees. For Jaustin, the memory of it is a blur, as if he’d been high as a kite on narcowhirl during it. He remembers still how Radon said that he’d never done this before, and his reply: “You’re doing just fine!” when Radon’s pole slipped inside his snatch.

From Kyler’s journal…

I shout, stung hard by the blow to my ass that Kasyn delivers as he shouts, “Number four!” And, during the pause between strikes he says, “Number four, my bad boy, is for forgetting my birthday!”

I protest: “You just told me it was ‘bourgeois’ to celebrate birthdays and that you’d forgotten it, too!”

Kasyn laugh. “Nevertheless, you forgot! And number five is for the same offense!”

I gasped as the fifth paddle blow fell. He really was doing it too hard, but the sheer burn of my arousal and lust combined with the pain of the paddle-falls made me want to continue to see how long I could endure this before it was no longer erection-inducing but just plain painful. 

“Kyler, you must know that this hurts me so bad! To be forced to spank you like this pains me far more than it ever could you. If I could just know somehow that you will be a good boy, then I could stop this torment! For me!”

“I swear,” I say, trying not to laugh, “that I will be good for you, Daddy!”

“Oh!” and Kasyn heaves a loud sob. “If only I could believe you, bad Kyler! But I cannot, and you are still lying to me, and that’s why I have to give you number six!”

I scream. “Oh, fuck, Daddy!” It really did hurt!

Seven comes without explanation, and Kasyn declares, “I admire your strength, you terrible boy! If you were your son Phobos, you would have been bawling your fucking head off by now!”

I laugh at this, trying to kill my instinct to scream for him to stop this torture—because I really do want him to continue—and I say, “If I were Phobos, I would have been bawling and begging for mercy before you even hit me the first time!”

Kasyn leans in, lips to my ear and says, “So sweet to fuck his pretty ass when he’s begging for it, isn’t it?”

He gives me no chance to reply. Number eight makes me shout.

“You need to restrain this boy gang that you’ve unleashed upon the city,” says Kasyn, “before they get out of control!” He hits me a ninth time. “You have never take me on a vacation to the Moon!”

My ass may be stunned to numbness by this point. I say, “You have never once said you wanted to go to the Moon!”

“Do I have to tell you everything?” He strikes me a tenth time and, no, I am not quite numb yet. My ass cheeks are on fire and tears run from my eyes. But, despite this, Kasyn has made my dong stiff as ever and pre-jac pulses from it, puddling on the tile beneath me.

Upon the eleventh blow, Kasyn says, “You should not have let Jaustin Moss escape to Mars! Now he's going knock up a bunch of angels with his copies of my balls!”

“I am pretty sure it was you who let him get away!”

A twelfth paddle-blow is his earnest answer.

And number thirteen: “You are such a very, very bad boy, my pretty husband!”

“I want to be good,” I sobbed. “Please give me a chance!”

“This spanking is clearly not working on you!” Before I even realize what he is doing, he’s set down the paddle and spread my asscheeks with his hands. The raw penetration of his cock stung badly at first, but a few seconds later he is all the way inside me, and its fit is perfect. “Maybe I can fuck you into shape, boy!”

Sex with Kasyn is always the hottest sex, but it’s a whole order of magnitude more thrilling on those rare occasions when he takes my ass without even letting me know he's going to do it. He has, of course, permanent implied consent to do whatever he wishes with me, and he does not need to ask my permission for this because he knows my answer will always be yes. But he usually does ask. That he does not this time, pushes me hard toward climax. I can feel my load, still trapped inside, swell to near-bursting, and I know that I will have no choice but to cum. He is going to fuck the spunk right out me, and quickly. I don’t think he is drilling me for more than maybe a half-minute when I jet out my cream. Reaching around my waist, he grabs my cock and jerks on it, slicking it thickly with my own cocksnot, pounding it hard, forcing me to a second climax which came out in another spray of semen. I feel Kasyn cum at about the same time, his somewhat rough fuck now smooth as glass as he lubes my chute with boy-batter. He keeps going for a minute, pushes himself to second peak, and spasms out another wad inside my slot.

“I think,” he says, “that you’ve probably learned a lesson, boy. At least as well as you can!”

Meanwhile on Mars…

The lovers lay in bed, Radon cradling Jaustin, resting after their very long fuck. Radon’s enormous cumload leaked from Jaustin’s slot.

“The angels’ doctor checked me out,” said Radon, “while you were away today. He says that what’s happening to my body is not dangerous in any way. He says it’s unusual, but not unheard of. An ‘eggling,’ he called me!”

“What does that mean?”

“He says that I was probably born to be an angel, but was taken as a baby outside the peculiar energy fields and sunlight of Mars, and so my body never developed normally. Or what is normal for them anyway. He says that once in a while, a boy moves here from Earth or Venus and starts to undergo the change, never having had any idea that their bodies held this potential.”

“That’s amazing! And really weird!”

“Yes! Do you still think I’m attractive?”

Jaustin kissed Radon’s chest between his nipples. “Of course, baby! You’ll always be beautiful to me no matter how much you change!”

Radon wondered, “So are you sure you got Jade-Mothra pregnant?”

“He’s sure of it anyway. I guess if it didn’t work, he might want me to try again.”

“I wonder if he’ll have you knock up more of these angels.”

“That is his plan. He told me that I am going to be doing it to a lot more of them! Like, it will be my full-time job for a while.”

“Amazing. But wouldn’t be more efficient to just collect a whole bunch of your cum and  preg these angels artificially? It seems like they could get it done a lot faster than by having you fuck them one by one. They could make millions of embryos with just one load from you!”

“Angels don’t believe in doing it artificially for some reason. Weird, I know…but it will be a lot more fun doing it their way!”

Radon frowned. “But if you’re fucking angels all day, will you have any energy left for me?”

“I’ll always have enough for you, baby!” And he thought, And even I don’t, there is no shortage of Erec-T and Juice-E around here.

Author’s note: My dear readers, you have no idea how grateful I am that you have patiently taken in this tale all the way to this point. I know it runs long, and I know that many puzzle pieces have been dropped here and there. But I promise that all of it will soon cohere. It is perhaps time to start making sense of one thread that has run through the whole thing. Let’s indulge in a flashback…

In Saint Louis in the year 1999…

Kasyn ascended the long winding creaky wooden stairs, carrying his skateboard and his shoes—he’d gone barefoot before entering the huge house, hoping to not make too much noise as he climbed to the third floor, to Kyler’s huge attic loft. Elsewhere in the house, Kyler’s strange grandmother dwelt, and he did not want to disturb her. Or, if he were to be honest with himself, he just didn’t want to risk having to interact with her. She was never anything less than formally pleasant to Kasyn when he visited his boyfriend—is that the word for it? I guess that’s the word for it!— way upstairs, but something in her eyes always gave him the creeps.

And he was also nervous about seeing Kyler again as they’d exchanged harsh words with each other during his last visit three nights ago. But Kyler’s IM: PLEASE come over after school! I NEED you here! And I MISS YOU!! nearly made Kasyn cry, seized him with a deep-in-his-body need to see and touch Kyler again. 

As he reached the final run of stairs that opened into the floor of Kyler’s huge room, Kasyn could hear, over the dirge of a Dead Can Dance CD, the scratch and whine of a modem dialing into the internet, followed by a voice blaring “You’ve got mail!” This was just one of Kyler’s computers, the one at an L-shaped corner desk, the one that he used just for getting email and for jerking off with other dudes in the vast space of AOL’s extensive queer chatrooms. Kasyn found it a tedious pastime—all those endless queries of “asl?” and “trade pics?” and “stats?”—but Kyler had cultivated a coterie of jerk-off buddies whom, he claimed, would edge with him for hours and delve with him into what he called “totally sick-ass realms of unrestrained queer erotic power.”

Indeed, he claimed that his interactions in the chats had led him to discover the aether and to understand the true purpose of a second computer on a huge table in the loft’s center, the device that Kyler called the “aether-net interface.” It was the eerie undulating light of that computer’s gigantic screen that he saw first when he emerged fully onto Kyler’s floor. 

One sees that light first, and then notices the complex smell: nagchampa incense, cigarette smoke, Kyler’s sweat and semen everywhere. Kasyn’s cock strained against his jock. He wanted to be wrapped in the heat of his boyfriend’s unwashed body; he wanted his mouth filled with Kyler’s fat knob, that unusual (to Kasyn) uncut arrowhead, cloaked to its tip in veiny translucent foreskin.

Where is he? Kasyn glanced around. It’s not like it’s easy to hide in this one huge room. Then: “Hey, baby.” Kasyn spun around and Kyler was just a few yards behind him, dressed only blue-and-yellow-striped Joe Boxer underwear and his many leather bracelets and anklets and his ever-growing collection of tattoos. “You like?” Kyler turned his back to Kasyn to show him the still-livid etching of a new piece of skin-art. At first glance, it looked rather like angel wings rising in squiggles from between Kyler's shoulder blades to encompass the back of his neck in a feathered grip. But look closer, as Kasyn did, and it was apparent that the wing-form and its “feathers” were composed of many little icons, letters in what Kyler called the alphabet of the “Cthulhist ouija.”

“It’s so pretty,” said Kasyn, standing now close behind Kyler, setting down his shoes and his board, his face inches behind Kyler’s back, peering at the tattoo’s minute details. And Kasyn, of course, recognized the iconography of it as it was evident everywhere in Kyler’s loft apartment, most notably as captions and speech balloons on Kyler’s many ink-and-charcoal drawings of lithe naked youths, hanging on every wall, all of those boys with opaque black and white and silver eyes. For the silver ones, Kyler had used a metallic Sharpie, and those eyes gleamed gaudily in the room’s low gas light. A few of the boys sprouted wings from their backs, and these wings were pops of garish color in the generally monochrome drawings. 

Kasyn glanced about the enormous room, from the jerk-off desk at the front of the house to the open shower and toilet area at the back of it, and was again awed by this weird life that Kyler had created. Though they were the same age, Kasyn still had another year of high school to dread while Kyler had already graduated thanks to having been skipped ahead back during primary school. He tried not to think about how he was going to miss having Kyler at school with him. Kyler was the one “out” gay dude there who somehow escaped the excesses of the homophobes, and who somehow extended his wings protectively over the other queers when needed. I didn’t even know I was gay—or at least I didn't want to admit it, thought Kasyn, until that night when he got me stoned and then drunk on Zima and we went to bed. We didn’t even fuck. We didn’t even kiss. We just slept together, literally.

Kasyn was also amazed at how Kyler had the time to do all the shit he did (given how much time he claimed to spend jacking off). He glanced at another desk, this one with another computer terminal on it and a huge laser printer/copier combo machine. Stacks of paper heaped upon that table represented another draft of a “work” that Kyler had been calling The Exegesis of HPL. This door-stopping tome, he said, would eventually coherently analyze the writings of an obscure cosmic horror author from the early part of the century and relate them to what Kyler called the impending “Aether Age.” Evidently this “HPL” of the title had never published his work professionally but rather had related all of it in the form of strange and lurid letters to his many correspondents, many of whom had written their own fiction based on cues and details from these letters. 

A few dings, announcing the receipt of AOL instant messages, blared from speakers on the corner desk. “Ignore that,” Kyler said, striding over to that terminal and signing off. “We have something important to do.”

“Important?”

Kyler: “When I say it out loud—even to you—I know I sound like a crazy person, but I’m not, and it’s a fact that right now, tonight, the Earth is within a tendril of the aether. In a few years, the aether will encompass the entire solar system, but it’s not there yet.”

Kasyn understood. “You want to send the transmission tonight!”

“If we don’t do it tonight, we may not have another chance for months, or maybe as long as a year. The Earth will pass out of this zone of aether for a time. Let’s not wait!”

Kasyn could not decide whether or not he truly believed in what Kyler had been telling him, but he truly believed that Kyler believed it, and he saw no reason to not at least try it. Kyler, with hands on Kasyn’s bare biceps, maneuvered him into the chair in front of the aether-net terminal. 

Laughing, Kasyn said, “Why am I sitting here?”

Kyler kissed his boyfriend on the top of his moppy-haired head. “Because your voice is so much better than mine.”

“You mean I am going to send the message?”

“The message to our counterparts in the future. Yes, baby!”

Kasyn blushed, taken unexpectedly with a feeling of having been given a great honor by Kyler. He said, “Okay, but after we’re done, can we…do something? Like, over there in your bed?”

Kyler grinned. “You’re spending the night, of course. I’ll make love to you for hours in all forms of homosex. Anything you fucking want!”

“I guess I can spend the night. I didn’t bring any clothes or anything though.”

“You won’t need them. In fact, I forbid you from wearing clothing tonight!”

Kasyn faux-punched Kyler in his naked belly. “You forbid me!”

“I ask that you please do not,” and Kyler leaned down and kissed Kasyn’s lips and they tasted each other’s tongues. “In fact, please take them off now!”

“Now? I thought we were about the send the message.”

Kyler kissed him again. “If we’re really horny for each other while you do it, it may work better.”

“How? That makes no sense!” Kasyn, laughing, stood back up to pull off his tank top and shuck off his board shorts.

“It makes total sense!” Kyler watched wide-eyed and wanting as Kasyn pulled down his jock and let his stiff bone spring free. “Your gay-boy sex-power is one of the strongest forces in the universe. Our lust for each other can rock the world!” He again directed Kasyn into the chair before the aether-net device. “So, are you ready?”

“Give me the script.”

Kyler placed the microphone in front on Kasyn and handed him a print-out of the message. Into a micro-cassette recorder, Kyler said this with great earnestness: “July 17 1999. This is Kyler Fey recording in my study with my colleague Kasyn Mutara; we are about to attempt our first trans-aetheric transmission to our counterparts in the far future. We intend to upload a series of aether-captured imagery along with a voice message that we hope will penetrate the consciousnesses of these far-future counterparts and warn them about what I believe to be a doomsday event that threatens their entire world and the survival of humanity. I will continue this recording as Kasyn delivers our message. Kasyn, I believe that our channel is open. Are you prepared to state our message?”

“I am prepared.” Any sense of absurdity that Kasyn may have harbored evaporated. If Kyler believed that this would work, then Kasyn believed it, too.

Kyler cut off the Dead Can Dance music, leaving the only sounds in the room the faint whir of the paused CD player and the eerie, undulating and barely audible hiss emanating from the aether terminal. On its screen, the random coruscations of the aether-light cohered into a vortex, spinning infinitely into a limitlessly dense center. “Speak now, baby,” Kyler whispered.

And Kasyn spoke: “This is not a dream,” he began, paused, clear his throat, and resumed “… not a dream. We are using your brain's electrical system as a receiver. We are unable to transmit through conscious neural interference. You are receiving this broadcast as a dream. We are transmitting from the year one, nine, nine, nine. You are receiving this broadcast in order to alter the events you are seeing. Our technology has not developed a transmitter strong enough to reach your conscious state of awareness, but this is not a dream. You are seeing what is actually occurring for the purpose of causality violation…”

To be continued…