Sea Of Dicks
“How was Phil?” Ben was sitting up in bed, busily crocheting a particularly complex piece of lace when I walked in. “Damn!” he muttered after smiling at me. “You made me lose count.” He set it aside and motioned for me to come closer. “Anyways...watch this!” He threw aside the sheets to draw my attention to his feet, and proceeded to wiggle his toes, bend his ankles up and down, and twist one leg to the side, before wincing in pain. “It still hurts like hell to do that, but my toes and ankles seem to be back to normal!”
His excitement should have been contagious, but the events of the day, especially this evening, were weighing heavily on me and I could only manage a halfhearted response. Sensing my reserve, his smile waned, and he asked, “What is it?”
So much had happened that I wasn't sure where to begin. “I found out why Helmut and Phil broke up,” I finally blurted out, giving voice to the event that was freshest in my mind.
“No!” Ben's eyes opened wide with excitement at the discovery of a long guarded secret. “Dish!”
I tried to give him a brief summary of the evening, but he kept interrupting with questions, as if he were a tabloid reporter hungry for the most juicy of details. When I had finished, he rolled his eyes and said, “No wonder you're distracted. But I thought you were just going over to help with some project. You stayed for dinner?
I realized I still had to fill him in on the events of the afternoon, and Andi's appearance, and did my best to recall as many details as possible. This time he refrained from asking questions until I was done. When I had finished, he sat in silence, trying to take it all in. Finally he muttered, “Why is it so important that Kevin know Helmut's darkest secret? And what is the darkness that surrounds you and why do you need hope?”
“No idea,” I replied, almost without thinking. Then shaking myself out of the somber mindset that the retelling of the evening's events had evoked, I focused on the present. “Besides, we have every reason for hope, with your movement and sensation beginning to return. I bet it won't be long before they release you to stay with me in the cabin.”
This made him smile, and leaned over to kiss him. “I wish it was tonight,” he mused. “This place is almost as sterile as the hospital. I'm already tired of it.”
We spent the remainder of the evening watching nothing in particular on the TV, until he began to nod off. I tucked him in and, once I was sure he was asleep, I headed across the street to the cabin. The day had been quite exhausting, and I was also asleep within moments of climbing into bed.
I dreamed of dicks, hundreds of them. Some were thick, some were thin. Some were huge and others were tiny. I could feel the heft of each one of them in my hand as I stroked it to its fullest potential. I could also feel each of them stretch and grow as they sprang to life in my hand. I knew each dick as my own. Their pleasure was my pleasure. At first I felt them one at a time, but then I could feel two, then three. Eventually I lost count and felt that my whole being was made up of the aching pleasure that was hard cock.
As I became more accustomed to this sensation, I began to be able to identify the location of each dick. I could see them scattered all over town. I felt as if I were rising into the air with this perception, and the higher I rose, the further I could see.
I saw a bright spot on the horizon, that clearly represented a large concentration of dicks, and turned my focus there. As I drew closer I could see it was a large ship. I felt myself drawn down to it, and finally came to rest in one of the bunks, surrounded by a multitude of sleeping sailors. When I opened my eyes I found myself in in a familiar cot on the ship from my previous dreams.
I laid quietly for a while, enjoying the energy of all the erections that surrounded me, and I knew that I could will any or all of them to do whatever I wanted. But in this moment I wanted nothing more than to bask in that energy. I knew that over the last few weeks I had willed just about every man on the ship to fulfill one erotic fantasy or another, and I was actually beginning to get a bit bored with it all. Every cock on the ship had been mine to do with as I pleased, and things had indeed gotten quite wild.
At this point I had reasonable control over my ability to influence the men who surrounded me. I did not need to limit myself to the dead of night or deserted parts of the ship. I found that I could go where I pleased when I pleased and influence officers and commanders into thinking I was supposed to be there. With each attempt I became bolder until finally I sent twenty of my fellow sailors onto the main deck in broad daylight for a full on orgy. Over the next hour I watched as various sailors and officers walked past as if it were perfectly normal. When one of them caught my eye, I willed him to get naked and take me into the middle of the action so I could join in the carnal frenzy.
At this point I was satiated. Over the last few weeks I had had more than enough sex, and I felt the need to rest. But the decision wasn't entirely mine to make. I felt another presence in the bunk with me. A presence that had not been satiated. A presence that wanted more, that was trying to use me to gorge on the sexual energy of the men who surrounded me. This presence had slowly been making itself known ever since our last stop at the small island where I had first sensed my unusual ability.
I had brought a memento from that island, and was beginning to wonder if I should get rid of it. It was a set of dog tags that I had found in a small cave. I thought I might try to look them up when I got home. Perhaps I was just being superstitious, but it felt like the unknown presence was somehow connected to them. I had them tacked to the wall beside my bunk, and as I reached over to touch them I felt a surge of desire sweep over me, a hunger of sorts that threatened to overwhelm me.
In that moment I made my decision. I pulled them off the wall and got up. The ship was never deserted, but at this hour the darkness seemed eerily quiet. as if the night was holding its breath. I moved swiftly to the nearest rail, and before I could second guess myself, I threw the dog tags into the sea. I stood there for a few minutes, willing them to sink to the bottom, and as we steadily moved away from them, I breathed more easily. I walked back to my bunk feeling lighter than I had for days. For once I didn't feel the need to explore a sexual fantasy or draw from the sexual energy of the men in the neighboring bunks, and I instantly fell into a contented sleep.
I awoke to the gentle lapping of waves on the sand outside my bedroom window. Morning had dawned, and I had slept for a good seven hours, but these dreams were starting to get to me. I felt as if I had only slept for a few minutes. I made myself get up and fix some coffee in an attempt to drag myself into the day. I thought about heading off to the museum to see if Heather had found out anything new, but I thought better of it. She had promised to contact me if anything came up, so I decided to wait a little longer. Instead, I headed over to the boarding house to check in with Phil. The revelations of the previous night had been difficult for everyone, and given his sudden turn towards alcohol yesterday, I wondered if he might have drunk himself into a stupor after the bar.
All was quiet when I arrived, a little too quiet. There was no sign that Phil had prepared breakfast for himself, and when I knocked on his bedroom door there was no response. I peeked in but he wasn't there, in fact, there was no sign that he had even returned home last night at all. I checked the garage and his car was not there. I began to worry. Might he have done something stupid? No. Despite the frilly gowns and make up, Phil was still a navy seal at heart. He was the strongest, most resilient man I knew. Wherever he was, I knew he was alright.
I decided, since I was almost home, to check in at the Hathaway and see if Helmut and Kevin were around. I was curious how things had worked out since I last saw them. There was no sign of them, but when I inquired at the kitchen I was told that one of the kids had seen them walking in the woods behind the building not too long ago.
I heard them before I saw them, although it wasn't really them I heard, but the congregation. I could hear the faint music of their singing long before I made it to the circle of trees that marked the ruins of their meeting house. The music carried a resonance to it that felt so peaceful. I hesitated, not wanting to disturb whatever was going on, drawing only close enough to see three figures seated on the ground near the center. It was Helmut, Kevin, and Phil. As I watched from a respectful distance, the sound seemed to take form, creating ripples in the air, much like heat rising from pavement on a hot summer day. They were quite still as the music swirled around them in great shimmering circles. While I was desperately curious to know what was going on, I could feel that it was meant to be a closed circle, and turned back towards the house, leaving them in peace.
Having failed to connect with anyone else, I decided that maybe I would stop into the museum, just on the off chance. I wouldn't ask any questions, just check my e-mail and touch base with my boss. If Heather had anything for me, well that would just be gravy.
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