Flight 12

Flight 12 – a serial novel by Travis Creel

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE: THE NEW YEAR

Previously:

The pressure mounts on Seth as midnight approaches. Jesús has warned him that he will execute all of Hamish's prisoners if Seth does not strike the blow and behead Abe. Seth doubts that Jesús would take such drastic action, and calls Jesús's bluff. Jesús responds by beheading Ian. Jesús informs the shocked Seth that while Ian (who has an Alpha-life) would live on in the multiverse, none of the Twelve would, and orders Harry's execution. Abe intervenes and tells Seth to go ahead – that Hamish will kill him anyway, and there's a chance that they could live together in the multiverse.

Seth surrenders, and asks for the axe.

• • • • • • • • TUESDAY, JANUARY 1 – moments before midnight * * * * *

THE WHITE ROOM – ABE

They say when you die, your life passes before your eyes. No dead person has been able to confirm or deny that. But as my head tumbled toward the floor, my life did pass before my eyes. It must have all occurred within a second or so, but it was all there.

Growing up in small-town Indiana, feeling different, experimenting with sucking cock in high school, getting ostracized by classmates for being a faggot, getting the cold shoulder from my father when I told him I was gay, leaving home for college, the validation I garnered from sexual connections in college, the nights at gay bars picking up partners, the emptiness of one meaningless connection after another, meeting Ian, breaking up with Ian, meeting Seth at Studs & Stripes, the glow I felt after our first night of sex, the disastrous second date when he had fucked me in handcuffs, the party at Jason's when I agreed to give Seth another chance, the no-sex date at the Armenian restaurant, growing closer to each other without sex – then with sex, meeting Sean at the concert at Blossom, cheating on Seth with Sean, the mixture of guilt and the love complicating my feelings for Seth, the amazing trip to Indiana where Seth eased my father's pain, the terror of Flight 12, my month in captivity as Percy's pet – all that passed before my eyes.

Then, in an instant, it went black.

• • • • • • • • ELEVEN MONTHS LATER * * * * * * * *

HOMOWORLD – SETH

• Morning, honey. . . . You okay? You look shaken.

• I'm fine. Just the dream I had. There were eleven other universes. Somehow you and I lived in most of them simultaneously.

• How many gin-and-tipsy's did you have last night?

• Ha. The other worlds were kinda strange. In most of them half the people didn't look like us.

• What, they had blue skin or something?

• Stranger than that. Their chests were all lumpy, like they had a balloon inside that pushed their nipples out. But worse, they didn't have cocks or balls.

• What? Without cocks, how did they have sex?

• That's just it. Instead of genitals, they had a kind of slit between their legs, and dudes with cocks would fuck that instead of their asses.

• Kinky.

• It was rather disgusting, actually. Fortunately, you and I – and many others – stayed away from them, and fucked dudes' asses like normal people. Another weird thing: In these other worlds, people covered their bodies with fabric.

• Fabric, like sheets or tablecloths?

• Exactly. They called them shirts' and pants'. And they wore something called `underpants' to cover up their genitals and asses TWICE.

• My god. Why would anyone want to cover up their bodies? Was the temperature cold?

• In some worlds, yes. But that wasn't the reason, because they covered their bodies indoors, too. Some guys even slept wearing fabric.

• Thank goodness it was only a dream. . . . Here. Have some coffee. I need you clear-headed.

• Because? . . . Is something wrong?

• We need to plan the Twelveday party. I wanted to send out invitations today.

• You used the past tense, and you've got your `I'm vaguely apprehensive about this' face on this morning. Why are you vaguely apprehensive?

• I'm more than vaguely apprehensive. I'm nervous as hell.

• Why? We've hosted Twelveday parties before. I can't actually remember them, but I know we have – it's a Seth & Abe tradition. So why the furrowed brow?

• Fred wants to come.

• . . . Fred? We don't know any Freds.

• Not personally, no.

• You don't mean –

• Yeah. Him. The governor of the planet.

• Holy shit! THAT Fred? Wants to come to OUR party?

• I opened the mail this morning and saw a video from the governor's office. I figured it was some boring proclamation – "Welcome to Twelvemonth' or some such. But no, it was a personal video from Fred himself. His first words were `Good morning, Seth.' I nearly fell off my chair.

• And he said he wanted to come to our party.

• He did.

• Why us?

• Haven't the foggiest.

• I think you should replace that coffee with something stronger. Seth, if Fred is coming, we can't have it here. We'll have to have more than an intimate party. We could rent some playrooms at the neighborhood homocenter. They can handle twenty-four.

• Do we know twenty-two other people to invite?

• Not that I'd want to party with. But the guest list should be in double figures, if the governor is coming.

• Couples only?

• No. To exclude our single friends wouldn't be in the spirit of Twelveday. Let's make a list.

• And check it twice.

• I think everybody on it should be both naughty and nice, don't you?

• That's what Twelveday is all about.

AGRIWORLD - JESÚS

It was the first day of Twelvemonth (formerly known as December) which meant there were just eleven days until Twelveday, which I would spend on Homoworld. Some might think, "It's a party, go to Partyworld", but Partyworld had women in it. On such a festive occasion, I need to be at one of the three all-male universes, of which Homoworld was certainly the most convivial.

I would spend each day until then visiting a different universe, starting with Agriworld, one of the least interesting universes, imho. Agriworld was a planet in which everyone grew their own food – and the entire planet was farmable, thanks to environmental adjustments we had made. Agriworld lacked a manufacturing base, so it came ready-equipped with modern farming equipment. The residents never questioned where it came from. This was true of all specialized worlds; if the world's raison-d'être didn't support producing a necessity, we would provide it as if it were a tree or river – an element of `nature'.

In some universes, the Twelve were scattered across the territorial United States, or even around the world. In others, like Agriworld, they lived nearby and knew each other – but with no memory of the island, Betaworld, or any sense that they had known each other anywhere else than their current environment.

In my capacity as Overlord, I could travel as I liked among worlds, and even – if I felt like it – drop in on residents without their awareness of my presence, the proverbial fly on the wall. In Agriworld, I decided to `visit' Vic and Miles, happily cohabitating on their farm in southern Labrador.

AGRIWORLD – MILES

• Did you feed the pigs?

• All done, my love.

• We'll have to slaughter Gertrude for the Twelveday feast, you know.

• Which is why I wish you hadn't named them.

• Sorry, Vic. There's a new butcher in town, though. He says he needs flour for making bread. We can trade him some of our wheat for his services. His name is Stefan. He's a little strange – when I said we had a pig to butcher he asked if we had any long pig. Quirky sense of humor.

• That's what I love about this community. If there's something you need, there's always somebody else who has it and is willing to trade for it.

• The other night I dreamed that people gave each other pieces of paper or swiped a plastic card to obtain food.

• You do have the strangest dreams, Miles.

AGRIWORLD – JESÚS

Well, yes, the lieutenants existed in the multiverse as well. But Agriworld-Stefan was only joking. He enjoyed being a butcher but restricted himself to livestock, I assure you.

• • • • • • • • TWELVEMONTH, DAY 2 * * * * * * * *

COMMWORLD – JESÚS

Commworld was Germán's domain. Germán was so wishy-washy about what he wanted, we didn't even know how to define it. We settled on Commworld, to stand for both communication and commerce, but he also wanted it to be a place where people traveled around from place to place. It sometimes operated at a frenetic pace, but people seemed happy enough.

I looked in on Gary, initially anxious when I saw Jasper wasn't with him. My fears were soon allayed.

COMMWORLD – GARY

As was our custom, Ray and I turned on the six o'clock news to see if Jasper had a story. He didn't always. He was the `feel good story' reporter, and there were some days when the world was too complicated for good news. But tonight, there he was, live in someone's living room in San Francisco.

• (Jasper) Most relationships begin through a chance meeting or through friends. But this story of two men who found each other is among the most bizarre you'll ever hear. On New Year's Day, Paul Eton, a biology teacher from Richmond, Virginia, woke up to a startling surprise.

• (Paul, sitting on a couch) I had – well, let's call it a tattoo – that I don't remember getting. Like it just spontaneously appeared.

• (Jasper) It wasn't a tattoo, though, was it?

• (Paul) No, it was . . . like I'd been branded. Which I definitely would have remembered, even if I had been drinking on New Year's Eve – which I hadn't.

• (Jasper, live) Off camera, Mr. Eton showed me the brand. It's not suitable for broadcast, but I can tell you that it referenced a man he had never met in a place he had never been: Daisuke Omi, a history professor at the University of San Francisco.

• (Dai) And I woke up the same day with Paul's name and location branded onto my body.

• (Jasper) And you had never met him before or remembered getting branded.

• (Dai) That's what was so bizarre. I'd been to the gym the day before and a buddy of mine who saw me coming out of the shower insisted it hadn't been there then. I was totally confused. I had a couple of weeks before the semester started, so I flew to Richmond.

• (Paul) And we just totally hit it off.

• (Dai) Totally.

• (Jasper) Paul Eton resigned his position and moved to California, where the two of them have been cohabitating blissfully ever since. Proof that love works in mysterious ways. Jasper Adena, Channel 12 news.

That story brought a tear to my eye. Jasper had a knack for that.

• (Ray, to me) Love DOES work in mysterious ways, doesn't it?

• Indeed it does. I'm so glad he loves both of us.

• (Ray) Well, he loves you. He just puts up with me.

• He likes you in bed well enough.

• (Ray) Ha! He sure does. And I love his sweet ass.

• Who knows, maybe someday he'll love you for your sweet personality.

• (Ray) Don't hold your breath.

• • • • • • • • TWELVEMONTH, DAYS 3 THROUGH 9 * * * * * * * *

VARIOUS WORLDS – JESÚS

DAY 3 - MANUWORLD was, in many ways, the opposite of Agriworld. Here – Falcon's domain – everyone was building things. Since no one was farming, food was just there at the grocery store. And no one ever questioned where it came from, they just took it for granted.

I stopped in to see Al Casey in his job building swimming pools. His new wife worked at home, having a small potting shed and selling her goods from their garage in Santa Barbara. We had to relocate Al to California so that he could meet Jen, Jordan's sister. The physics had suggested that they'd hit it off, and they had.

DAY 4 - ARTWORLD was Paolo's project. He'd lobbied for it to be all-male, unsuccessfully. There was already an imbalance between the sexes, and it would have been unfair to all the talented women in Alphaworld not to have an outlet for their artistic endeavors. And it would have been unfair to Theo, who was straight, to be in a world without women. Theo and Piers were, in fact, winning an award for their production of The Tempest. And Tim had an exhibition of his avian sculptures at the Art Institute of Chicago.

DAY 5 – PARTYWORLD. I was glad we didn't, in the end, replace Dion with Estevan on the Board. Partyworld was an inspiration. No one had jobs. Everyone just had a good time, all the time. They never worried about paying the rent, where the next meal was coming from, or global conflict. They just enjoyed each other – straights, gays, lesbians – all mixed together. A Utopia – but a little shallow, and the physics would not have allowed it to exist without it being balanced by something more ominous, like . . .

DAY 6 – WARWORLD – Ari's Utopia: every civilization at war in some way, crossing historical timelines. Some conflicts were fought with tanks and artillery, others with rifles and bayonets, or with swords and armor – or even with spears. All able-bodied men found themselves in Warworld (I refused to subject women to this environment, which was either noble of me or sexist.)

Men who had been gay in Alphaworld happily engaged in recreational sex. For others, sex was a form of assault – or punishment. The standard protocol for disciplining miscreant soldiers was to have them fucked by their platoon. The need for sexual gratification led officers to make the capture of enemy soldiers, not territorial advance, their highest priority. A captured prisoner was certain to be raped frequently, tortured, emasculated, and – when his captors had tired of him – put to death in some sadistic manner. Even so, this was not the end. Thanks to the physics, as we explained to our backers in St. Moritz several years ago, death was far from final. The next day, he would simply wake up in the same condition he was in when the multiverse was activated. In Warworld, he would die many times, without realizing it. Ari was in heaven.

I stopped in to see Tim in Afghanistan, protecting Shabhaz from capture, a goal to which he had so far been successful. His sergeant, Penn, was busy plunging his cock into unwilling Afghan backsides.

DAY 7 – INTELLECTUWORLD

In Thibaut's domain, everyone pursued knowledge, and many disseminated it. Dai and Paul were both teaching here. Augie was studying to become a minister, though one who would NOT be preaching fire and brimstone. But the star of the day was Abe, who had just won a Nobel Prize for groundbreaking biometric work on Penis Recognition Technology.

DAY 8 – SEAWORLD, Simon's creation, had been the most technically challenging of the universes, entirely reversing the geography of the earth, so that the world's land masses became oceans and the oceans became continents.

I dropped in on the location in the Caribbean several fathoms beneath where the island had existed in Betaworld. The Flight 12 passengers all lived there together in a community – a school of humans, if you will. Actually, more like mermen, as we had to give them tails to maneuver around the oceans more easily, as well as gills for breathing. They had no fears of sharks or other predators, which had been rendered docile in this universe.

I found Simon entertaining Stan and Ian in his undersea cave. They said they were on their way to a production of The Tempest that Theo and Piers had put on. Both Theo and Piers had found partners – one female and one male – and Theo passed on the news that Al and Jen were having a merbaby – due date 2095. (Thanks to the 144-fold extension of time extant in the multiverse. One thing we hadn't thought through carefully – childbirth could take weeks. Blame it on our unconscious bias toward all-male relations.)

DAY 9 – HUNTWORLD, like Warworld, existed in different timeframes in different areas of the world. Augie and Alfonso, for example, found themselves in the Old West, which Arturo (who governed Huntworld) kept supplied with plenty of game. Ian and Stan were in prehistoric Europe, where even mammoths could be hunted and used for food. Seth and Abe were part of a community of hunter-gatherers that included heterosexual couples as well as gay pairs.

But I chose Africa for this trip, where it was the mid-nineteenth century, where I would visit a man who was not on the island but whom we placed in a prominent role in Huntworld, Warworld and a few other universes. His name is Thimba Azikewe. His first name means he who hunts lions'. In Huntworld he is known as King Thimba, for he is the ruler of his tribe. He has no wife, for he prefers his own sex, and he is respected among his people for his dominance of other men. If he can do that to a man, he can dominate anyone' one of his subjects said to me.

I appeared to him in the guise of one of his tribesmen, and he engaged with me as if he had known me all his life.

• The hunting expedition is returning. Let us see what they have brought us.

His tribesmen, dressed only in loincloths, entered the village. Three sets of them carried in the fruits of their hunt, suspended from poles to which the animal's legs were tied. The first pair of tribesmen bore a gazelle. The second animal required four men to carry it on a pair of poles – a wildebeest. The third animal required only a single pole. It was different. It was wearing clothes. And a strip of cloth had been stuffed inside its mouth.

• (Thimba) What is this you have found for me?

• (tribesman) A white man, your highness. An explorer. We thought he would make a good slave.

• Indeed he would. That is all the white tribe is good for. But slaves should not be dressed. Render him in a proper state.

In a trice, the man was released from his poles and stripped naked. He pulled the cloth from his mouth, which he opened to unleash a furious invective.

• Look here! I am a British citizen. I demand you release me at once.

• You are in no position to demand anything. I am making you my slave.

• Haven't you gotten that backwards? It's you Ubangis who should be the slaves. The white man is superior to your race in all respects.

• I will teach you otherwise. The gazelle and the wildebeest we will skin for clothing and cook for food. If you are not a satisfactory slave, we will do the same to you. (to a tribesman) fetch me some animal fat. I am going to lubricate his sex channel.

And with amusement I watched Ed Niemann cry out in protest as he was greased up and vigorously fucked by the king, followed by his entire tribal council. Noting Ed's racism, we had placed him in positions subservient to Black men in several universes. This had been the fourth time Ed had been captured in Huntworld, in each case his arrogance getting the better of him; so far he had always wound up in the tribesmen's bellies, only to wake up the next day and be captured all over again. However, there was one positive sign: In each iteration his survival had lasted longer, and I had hopes that eventually, he would learn to submit, making his slavery permanent and not fatal.

His was not the only case of a punishment fitting the crime.

• • • • • • • • TWELVEMONTH, DAY 10 * * * * * * * *

LESBOWORLD – JESÚS

I had put it off as long as possible, but I needed to get in my visit to Lesboworld before I finished off the tour with my two favorite universes. Lesboworld was a barren place, full of sand, cactus, and tumbleweed. The harsh environment was a consequence of the physics – a desert climate was necessary to balance Seaworld. Fortunately, the lesbians who populated it were genuinely happy with the environment; a positive attitude was something we had programmed into all universes.

However, positive attitudes were not universal (pardon the pun).

LESBOWORLD – SEAN

He materialized in front of my eyes. My sore eyes, and he was a sight for them. Even if it was the person responsible for my being here.

• Hello, Sean.

• Well, well, Jesús. I can't say it's nice to see you, but it is refreshing to see someone with a cock and balls.

• If you want sex, bend over.

• I'm around women all the time. I'm not going to be one for you.

• Very well.

• Twelveday is coming up. Are you going to leave me here for that?

• I'm not that cruel, Sean. I never intended to stick you with Lesboworld, you know that. But after your efforts to sabotage The Project, I daresay you deserve it.

• It was only for love, Jesús. How is he?

• Herrick? He and Derisian are happy in all eleven other worlds.

• I'm glad.

• You don't sound it.

• No, Jesús, I am. It's better than both of us being miserable. I live for the twelfth of every month. Even though . . .

Each month I had one day off – the twelfth. Another board member and I would trade places for a day. But there was a restriction. I was not allowed to see Seth on these visits.

Jesús was reading my mind.

• It was a test, Sean. You passed it. Next year, you'll be allowed to visit him.

• Really?

• Really. But be warned: Fuck up his relationship with Derisian, and you'll be forbidden from seeing him again in that – or any – universe.

• I promise, Jesús. So – what about Twelveday? It's only two days from now. I won't have to spend it here, will I?

• I think that would be overly cruel.

• Do I get to be Overlord for a day?

It was a preposterous suggestion – and yet logical. Each of the other board members had taken their turn spelling me for a day so I could escape Lesboworld and have normal sex. Jesús had promised to take his turn – but hadn't yet.

Jesús's smile reminded me that my suggestion, while logical, was preposterous.

• The most important day of the year, and you expect me to spend it with women? Sorry, no; I'm going to spend it in the company of men. In Homoworld.

• Can I come with you?

• No. But I will let you go to Prisonworld, which is all-male, after all. I'll even put you in the same cell with Herrick.

• I can fuck him?

• If he agrees. I think he's stronger than you physically, Sean, I don't think you can force him.

• Where will Derisian be?

• I'll arrange for him to be with Percy. He won't mind.

• Thank you, Jesús. But . . . who'll be in charge here? Hamish has already taken his turn, you can't give him lesbians on Twelveday.

• No. Your assistant will be in charge.

• What, MAGDA?

None of Lesboworld's residents attracted me sexually, but on a social level I got on well with them. But the woman assigned to be my assistant was a pain in the ass. She wasn't a lesbian – and as I was the only man on the planet, she was perpetually begging me for sex.

• Why did you punish me with Magda anyway?

• We weren't punishing you. We were punishing her.

• Why?

• Well, you have to admit, she is a bitch.

• Kowalczyk certainly thought so.

• • • • • • • • TWELVEMONTH, DAY 11 * * * * * * * *

PRISONWORLD – JESÚS

I chose Prisonworld as the place where Sean could spend Twelveday because it was Sean's design in the first place. It seemed only fitting to allow him a vacation in the place he'd most enjoy, fucking inmates to his heart's content – including Herrick, if he would let him.

I'd spend Twelveday in Homoworld, but Prisonworld was actually my favorite universe. While everything in Homoworld was lovey-dovey – with kink – Prisonworld was all about power relationships. And power relationships were more my thing than romance. That was the case for Hamish, as well. He had dominion over all the world's prisons; the one that housed the Twelve had Percy as its official warden, but Hamish spent most of his time there, delegating responsibility for the other prisons to local wardens.

We'd arranged for most of the Betaworld couples to be cellmates. Initially strangers, they formed relationships as we expected they would, mostly independent of the gangs that could terrorize unsuspecting young inmates. Ed we gave to a big Black drug dealer, who quickly made Ed his gang's bitch. And all the inmates accepted, as a fact of life, that from time to time they would be raped and beaten by guards.

Another aspect of Prisonworld that appealed to me – while guards and other prison staff wore uniforms, inmates were kept nude at all times.

PRISONWORLD - JORDAN

There's a hierarchy in prison. Harry and I are on the bottom rung. At the very top there's the warden – though the warden's husband, Hamish, seems to be running the place most of the time. The two of them have total control and can do whatever they want to whomever they want whenever they want.

Next up are the guards, who can have any of us any time they want – and they do. Three times a day, we have to stand outside our cells for inspection. That's what they call it, anyway – it's really `selection'. The guards choose who they want to use – which usually involves beating our asses with a prison strap until it's three shades of maroon, often involves beating their fists on our torsos, balls, and even faces, and always – always – involves fucking.

One guard in particular has taken a fancy to both me and Harry. His name is Barry Russell, but says we are to address him as `Sir Barry Russell'. He likes to use his baton on our back, thighs, and especially our buttocks both before and after he thrusts his oversized cock up our rectums. I'd have thought Harry, being heavy, wouldn't be such a favorite, but he chooses Harry as often as he chooses me – which is every day. Usually me in the mornings and Harry in the afternoons – we're so bruised that none of the guards select us for evening sessions. Fortunately, everything heals overnight so we don't have to go around looking at each other's bruised butts all the time.

The next level down are the gang leaders and other wolves. They have an agreement with the guards as to which punks – that's us – are available to whom. Every gang has its whores. One of them, an older English guy named Ed who's in the cell next to ours, has become the property of one of the Black gangs. Every night, Harry and I listen to his cries as one gang member after another bangs his sorry ass. My friend Augie had been targeted by a Latino gang to become their bitch, but a dude named Alfonso offered him protection. So now he's Alfonso's wife.

At least the gangs and other predators leave Harry and me alone. And Barry, while he beats the shit out of us and fucks us hard, is actually quite fond of both of us. He's talked about moving us in with him when we get released. Only – I'm not sure we'll ever get released.

Meanwhile, I have Harry, who is the sweetest guy in the whole world. He makes life here not just tolerable, but downright acceptable. In these months together, we've grown to truly love each other.

PRISONWORLD - HAMISH

The man in front of me was a fish, all right. He had been going through legal procedures since the first of the year, and as such, had been in a holding pen, not in gen pop. Prisoners in holding pens were allowed certain privileges, such as privacy, music, and clothing. All that was about to end for this inmate, a middle-aged prisoner who had no idea of what prison life was like.

That was true from his attitude as he stood before me.

• I demand to see my lawyer! I should have been released by now. I have committed no crime.

• What does crime have to do with prison? You're here because you're here.

• Prison is a place for criminals. I am not a criminal.

• Strip.

• . . . What did you say?

• I said, `Strip'. Naked.

• Nudity is against God. Adam and Eve were thrown out of the Garden of Eden –

• Prisoners are not permitted clothing. Strip!

• That's inhumane.

• I'll show you what's inhumane. Percy, bring in the Jaguars.

The Jaguars were one of the toughest Latino gangs in the prison. Over fifty members strong, they ruled three cellblock floors with total authority – and woe to you if you crossed them.

The leader was a Dominican named Felix Guerra, well-known to me as I had set him aflame in Betaworld along with one of Barry's clients, Martín Delgado – also a Jaguar.

• Strip, or these boys will strip you. It's the rule, as you can see by their attire – or lack of it.

The prisoner realized he had no choice and slowly began to undress. I spoke to Dane, one of the guards standing nearby.

• Burn his clothes. He'll never need them again.

Looking at the trembling, naked middle-aged white man, Felix circled around him and smiled.

• (Felix) Bend over.

• What?!

• Bend over, bitch.

• I'm not a bitch, and I –

A sharp smack across the prisoner's cheeks put a quick end to his protests. Three Jaguars forced his legs apart and bent him forward at the waist. Felix pushed a finger into the man's asshole.

• (Felix) This thing needs to be stretched out a bit.

• (me, smiling) I quite agree. And you boys are just the lot to do it.

• (Felix) We gonna make you our bitch, boy. And we gonna punk you ass to anyone who wants to buy it.

• (the man) Homosexuality is against –

• (me) Stuff it, Pastor Markson.

• (Felix) PASTOR Markson, is it? Oh, yes, rev, you should stuff it. And then we gonna stuff it right up your ass. Not the entire gang tonight. There's too many of us. Probably only about twenty tonight. We'll do the rest over the next couple of days.

The Jaguars lifted up Augie Stapleton's terrified former minister and carried his nude white body out the door, ready to ravish it for hours.

I loved my job.

• • • • • • • • TWELVEDAY (formerly known as December 12) * * * * * * * *

HOMOWORLD – SETH

The guest list was eighteen – seven couples, three singles (Piers, Barry, and Ed), plus Fred. But then Fred sent word that Jesús would attend. . . . Run that by me again?

I mean – Jesús! Jesús was the Overlord; conspiracy theorists had postulated that he didn't even exist. How could anyone be more important than the governor of the entire planet? But he did exist. And he was coming to OUR party!

Fortunately, this news came before we had sent out invitations. Jesús would make an odd number, absolutely unacceptable for a Twelveday party. There was no other single we were comfortable inviting, so we had to drop one. The choice was easy – Ed. Ed could be a bit tactless, and we couldn't risk him saying the wrong thing in front of Fred, much less Jesús. He also was a bit of a racist, and didn't get along well with Vic.

We offered to let Jesús or Fred serve as host, but Fred (speaking for both) said that I should host, in recognition of all I had done. I had no idea what he was talking about; he made some vague reference to my having triggered something, then added that I wouldn't understand. He was right – I didn't.

Organizing the invitations had to be done carefully. Half the guests had to be admitted between 10:30 and 10:45 and the other half between 11:00 and 11:15. Furthermore, couples couldn't arrive together; you had to split them up. But what to do with our two distinguished guests, not wishing to insult either. We contacted the governor's Office of Protocol, who responded that we should invite the governor in the first group, and the Overlord in the second, so that he could enter last and make a grand entrance.

`Very last?' I inquired, and the response was in the affirmative. I realized the implications of that, which simultaneously constituted an honor, a privilege, and extra pressure.

Abe joked that we should invite Gary in the first group and Ray in the second. Well, not all jokes land on their feet. The invitation went to Gary; we'd get two for the price of one, which might lend an element of flexibility to the evening.

Abe would serve as greeter for the first wave, which included Miles, Jasper, Augie, Ian, Tim, Jordan, Barry, Dai and Fred, in some order. The second wave would be Vic, Gary, Alfonso, Stan, Shabhaz, Harry, Piers, Paul and Jesús, in some order. The order depended upon their arrival times, which protocol dictated could not be coordinated with anyone else.

HOMOWORLD – ABE

We'd reserved three playrooms at the Homocenter, one for each Stage.

Dai was the first to arrive, sexy as always, his cock standing out straight and ready for action. Of course, everyone would arrive in this state – it was Twelveday, and we had all awakened hard as lead pipes and suffered our erections throughout the day, proscribed from even touching ourselves until the evening festivities. Then all the patient waiting would be worth it.

The second to enter was Tim. He saw Dai there, delighted. I ushered them into the Suck Room, the site of Stage One.

The Suck Room had grooved recesses in the walls, the size of a human body. The great thing about them was that they were adjustable. They would adapt to your body size so that it was a snug, comfortable fit. Before each pod was a pair of cushions, suitable for kneeling.

I turned to the pair of them.

• Who wants to go first?

Tim gestured to Dai, who stepped inside the pod.

• (Dai)You remember, I have quite a prodigious output.

• (Tim) That's why I was so happy to see you when I walked in. I'm thirsty.

• You won't be when I'm finished.

Tim dropped to his knees and circled his lips around Dai's lovely uncut cock. He worked it slowly, rhythmically, and I longed to stand there and admire the act but the buzzer sounded. Someone else had arrived.

And goodness, it was Fred himself. My heart sank a little. I was hoping he, like the Overlord, would be the last to arrive. Nevertheless, I instantly sank to my knees. He gestured for me to stand, grabbed my cock, and shook it. Naturally, I reciprocated. My mind flashed back to the bizarre dream I had told Seth about earlier, in which men in other universes greeted each other by shaking hands, not cocks. How bizarre.

Seth stood quietly against the wall; the first wave was mine to host, and he had to be circumspect. Nonetheless, Fred approached him, greeted him warmly, and shook his cock. Seth smiled modestly, shook the governor's cock in return, then retreated to his place, so as not to disturb protocol.

The governor had been the third. Which meant the fourth was in for a big surprise. And so was I – for the next to arrive was Augie.

Augie. It would have to be Augie. Of all the guests in the first wave, I was hoping it would not be Augie. Mind you, I loved Augie – we all did. But he was the least experienced of everyone on the guest list; until about a year ago, he was a virgin. His sexual repertoire was, shall we say, underdeveloped. And now, he would be partnered with Fred! Fortunately, he preferred oral sex to anal, and Alfonso had sharpened his skills considerably since they had gotten together.

I was astonished that the governor knew who he was, but he shook Augie's cock aggressively and hugged him warmly.

• (Fred) Augie! So glad to see you! So glad that you'll shortly be sucking my cock. And after that – I'll suck yours!

Augie turned pale, and dropped to his knees, prompting the governor to laugh.

• (Fred) Not here, Augie. (to me) I presume you reserved a Suck Room for this activity.

• Absolutely, sir.

• Excellent. Augie, come with me. You're a cute young thing, aren't you, boy.

His hand was on Augie's ass for the entire trip to the Suck Room, where Tim was slurping Dai like a popsicle.

I awaited the arrival of the remaining group of Wave One – whoever was the last to arrive would be my partner. The next two pairings were Miles and Jasper, then Ian and Jordan. Which left only

• Barry!

• Hello, pussycat. Ready to chow down on my bone?

• You planned to be last, didn't you? Hoping it would be me?

• Yes, and you're loving it. Once again, I will make you my bitch.

• No, I'm a pussycat, remember? You're the pooch.

It was a running joke we had, so old I couldn't remember how it started. Barry was a dog, and I was a pussycat. And he liked to chase me like a dog chasing a cat. Only I let him catch me.

I led him into the Suck Room and snuck into a pod before he had a chance to, and strapped myself in.

• Ah, no, Barry. You're going to have to wait your turn. I'm a host of this shindig, and I'm getting serviced first.

Barry's cock was one of the largest among our guests, but it was most effective when fucking ass. Hopefully, I would experience that aspect of it as well before party's end.

HOMOWORLD – SETH

Piers was first to arrive in the second wave. Piers, being single, was one of Abe's matchmaking targets. Initially, he tried to pair him with Ed, who knew a lot about Shakespeare – which, Piers, as an actor/director, gave them a field of common interest. It hadn't worked out, as Ed couldn't restrain himself from criticizing some of Piers's artistic choices. He approved of him programming Romeo and Julius', but scoffed at comedies like The Importance of Fucking Ernest' or musicals like Hello Donny' or Seven Grooms for Seven Brothers.'

It was Tim's partner Shabhaz who wound up sucking Piers's dick. Our best friend Harry was the next to arrive, and he partnered with Dai's lover Paul. Vic and Stan constituted the third pairing of this wave, which left Augie's new partner Alfonso to match up with Gary.

That is, Gary and Ray. It became clear that Gary would suck Alfonso's cock, and then Alfonso would suck Ray's. Although, as I understood it, both of them would experience both climaxes. I've known them since forever, and I still don't understand that dynamic. But it seems to work for them, so I'll leave well enough alone.

In the Suck Room, four mouths were happily engaged with four cocks. The first wave having completed their initial orgasms, I joined them in the common room to nosh on crudité, fruit, nuts (the kind that grow on trees), and finger sandwiches – not made with actual fingers.

And greeted the Overlord. Somehow when I saw him, I experienced a weird sense of déjà vu, as if I already knew him. I had a vision of his face appearing on a giant screen, like Big Brother in Orwell's `1984'. But, of course, I'd never met him and fell to my knees to shake his cock. I wanted then and there to take it into my mouth – if I could. I had never seen an organ that large in my life. He read my mind.

• You're thinking it should be twelve inches. But there are other men with organs that long, I needed to exceed that. My length is a multiple of twelve, though – thirty-six centimeters. Which is just over fourteen inches. I think you'll enjoy that, Herrick.

`Herrick'. Somehow I knew he was going to refer to me by my last name.

• You'll be draining it twice. I hope you weren't thinking I'd reciprocate.

Well, I kinda was. My cock had been itching for release all day, and while it would surely find it during the coming hours, I didn't want to have to wait. Plus, the bragging rights! The Overlord sucking MY cock?

Well, I suppose it was unrealistic. What was also unrealistic was taking that monster into my mouth comfortably. I had known that the responsibility of bringing the Overlord off would be pressure, but when his member was THIS large?

We walked into the Suck Room and heard gasps from Piers, Paul, Vic and Alfonso when they saw the size of Jesús's penis. It was enough to make their fellators stop and turn their heads to see what had prompted such a reaction. Jesús fit himself into a pod, which, naturally, fit his profile perfectly; the straps tightened around him, having been programmed to release only upon his orgasm.

I lowered myself down, knees on the cushions, and faced the great challenge. Lord, he smelled good, as I suppose an Overlord must.

I don't know how I manage to take his thick organ in my mouth, but somehow I did. His giant phallus slid in and out of my throat so smoothly, it seemed like it was going halfway down my esophagus. Yes, I gagged more than once, but those fourteen inches managed to get far enough in me that his pubes tickled my face. When his viscous fluid poured down my gullet, he pulled out, patted me on the head, said, "Good boy", and dove right back in for a second round.

Then it was on to Stage Two, for which we moved into the Orgy Room. The room was set up with ten fucking benches. There was nervous anxiety – who would get placed over them? We each had to reach into a bowl to pull out a white marble or a black marble. Those who drew white would fuck those who drew black. There were eight white marbles and ten black ones – the numbers would have been even, but there was no way that Jesús and Fred would ever be bottoms!

I, as host, drew first. I was nervous. I rarely bottomed – never with Abe, and only occasionally at parties. But, to my relief, I drew white.

Abe, next, drew black. Ordinarily ideal, but I would not be fucking him in Stage Two – it was not protocol. He spent the next hour tied over a fucking bench, along with Paul, Dai, Alfonso, Miles, Barry, Ian, Tim, Jordan, and Gary. Augie, Stan, Piers, Vic, Jasper, Shabhaz, Harry, were the tops, along with Fred, Jesús and me. Three pairs (Augie/Alonso, Stan/Ian and Tim/Shabhaz) wound up in the role opposite of the role they preferred in their relationship. As for another pair – Harry and Jordan – it was a bit ironic, as both of preferred to bottom, which made them popular at parties (and Barry, normally all top, was a frequent guest at their house).

The timer was set, and the fucking began. A top could fuck any unoccupied bottom other than his partner.

I was not surprised when Jesús chose Barry to fuck. I WAS surprised when he referred to him as `pooch'. This was Abe's nickname for him, and how Jesús knew that was beyond me. But then, Jesús was the Overlord, and probably knew just about everything.

Fred sank his cock into Dai's shapely ass – imho the loveliest in the room other than Abe's (I'm biased), and the governor always fixated on beauty. Vic selected Tim's elongated rump, while Tim's partner, Shabhaz took rare advantage of the opportunity to be on top with Paul. Piers opted for the black bottom of the only Black bottom present, Miles, while Stan fucked Alfonso, Harry did Ian, and Augie, to my surprise, started to fuck Jordan. There was some kind of relationship between Augie and Jordan that I didn't understand – they seemed both fond of each other and a bit stand-offish.

That left Jasper to sink his cock into my beloved – a good choice, I liked Jasper a lot (and hoped to sample his wares later) and I, ever the polite one, waited for everyone else to make their choice, assuming I'd get dregs as leftovers. I didn't – I got the self-contained twins, Gary and Ray.

Gary loved the feel of my cock in him – Ray not so much, but he'd gotten used to it. I gave Gary a thorough rogering that he would have remembered for a while – were it not for the fact that there was more to come. Two benches to my right I was hearing howls coming from Barry, who was finding Jesús's enormous phallus difficult to accommodate. I had to grin – Barry was well-endowed himself, and reveled in mixing pain in with the pleasure he gave while topping.

Jesús's choice after Barry made me wince: Miles. Miles was the smallest man in the room, barely five foot three and a hundred and twenty pounds. And Jesús's fourteen-incher up that tiny behind? The poor guy was screaming. Jesús laughed at his discomfort, not giving a fuck while giving a fuck, and Miles's grunts permeated the room as Jesús pulverized his insides.

I, meanwhile, had moved on to my good friend Ian, whose insides I quite enjoyed violating. When we had sex, Ian complained that I was too vanilla, so I upped the ante whenever we connected. Abe, I saw, was being done by Piers, and Harry was plunging into Tim. Augie had Dai, Stan was doing Gary, Jasper was breeding Alfonso, Shabhaz was raping Jordan, and Vic was doing Paul up brown with his black cock.

Before the timer sounded, I had stuck my cock into Barry, Dai, and Alfonso – an ass I had never before called my own. Alfonso was Augie's new mate, and generally topped him – as had I on the two occasions when we'd partied together.

Abe, unfortunately, was next on Jesús's list. I think he would have been second had Piers not gotten to him first in the second round. Fred was next on his dance card, and Fred's endowment, while no comparison to Jesús's, was not to be sneezed at. My love was going to be quite sore for a while – and I hadn't even had my crack at him.

I got my rocks off five times in that hour, regretting that I had missed out on half the bottoms. But then this was just Stage Two, Part One. As the gong sounded to close the hour, the ten bottoms were untied, and we spent a quarter of an hour refreshing ourselves – showering, hydrating, snacking lightly for extra energy. Some of us would need it – some would only require patience and stamina.

Back we went to the Orgy Room and once again our hands went into the vase containing eight white marbles and ten black ones. This time, luck was not on my side. Both Abe and I drew black, delighting Jesús, who announced that I would be number one on his list, and that no one should get there first.

Uh, no one would dare, Jesús, not with that kind of pronouncement. Abe, at least, would be spared, as the protocols forbid doing the same guy twice, but he was in for another solid hour of being fucked by several guys – just not ones who had done him in Part One.

Having already endured the mouth-rape of Jesús's prodigious phallus, I steeled myself for its invasion up my ass. When I felt it, I wondered how on earth he had ever gotten inside Miles – had Miles been a virgin, it would have been impossible. My own hole was no virgin, but neither had it been stretched to twice its size by repeated violation. Jesús pounded my cheeks, screaming at me to let him in. I pushed out as hard as I could, trying to accommodate him, and when he finally forced his way past my irritated sphincter, it was with enough power to drive a locomotive.

I screamed. I suddenly knew why Barry was screaming when Jesús fucked him. It didn't take a small man like Miles to suffer under the thrust of the Overlord. Abe had screamed, as well as Dai, Paul, and Gary – all of whose asses Jesús had conquered brutally.

Jesús reached parts of me I didn't even know existed. Pounding my prostate? That was the beginning. He could have rammed it into my stomach, the way he was jackhammering that mammoth organ up my rump. And I am six foot three. I could not imagine what it would have done to Abe, who's only five-seven.

• Take it, bitch. You know you love it.

I didn't, and yet I did. I mean, Jesús was the essence of manhood. His cock in my ass was a perfect communion, even if I would have preferred it the other way. This was quintessential sex – the mighty asserting his authority over the vanquished. And tied down over that bench, no one was more vanquished than I. I was unused to being the submissive, but with a man this powerful, there was no choice. I had to revel in my role – I was a piece of meat, raw flesh to be dominated and pounded into submission.

Finally, he bred me, long flowing rivers of semen spurting up my colon, seeming to invade every cubic inch of my intestines, large and small. Logically, I knew that was impossible, especially as it was at least the sixth time he had ejaculated in the last hour and a half, but I felt completely filled with his juice as if I needed a butt plug inserted into me just to keep a gallon of liquid from spilling out.

HOMOWORLD – JESÚS

You are wondering if I had a fourteen-inch cock my whole life. Of course not. But if you're creating a new universe, you might as well program in some biological changes. All board members got twelve-inch cocks out of the deal. But I AM the boss, after all. I must have the biggest cock. And so I do.

HOMOWORLD – SETH

After Jesús withdrew, Barry fucked me. Barry had a mere ten or eleven inches. Followed by Fred (twelve), Vic (nine, but THICK), Ian (normal sized, thank goodness) and Ray. Ray enjoyed taunting me while plowing away at my innards. Every once in a while Gary would pop in to apologize for Ray's rudeness, but Ray just told him to shut up, he'd had his sex his way, it was Ray's turn to get his jollies. Which I guess was fair enough.

There was a third hour of Stage Two yet to come, for which I was, again, a bottom, while Abe was a top. After all that, we were spent. It was shower time again, and noshing time again, though this time the goodies were restricted to the crudité, and no one had much of them.

There was a ceremonial serial hug, in which each of us hugged every other member of the group – a total of 190 hugs in all. Jesús managed to mix in some vigorous ball-squeezing as part of his hugs, and his grip was as fierce as his fucking.

And then it was time for the Finale. Which, for me at least, meant no more injury to my asshole.

We moved to the Dungeon. The Dungeon was the largest room in the Homocenter's Playsuite, furnished with a wide variety of equipment – St. Andrew's crosses, fucking benches, strapping tables, bondage chairs, a rack for stretching, vises, chains, slings, wrap for mummification – you name it, it was there.

The rules were simple. When you entered the room, you had to pick a side – top or bottom. If it was uneven, the host had the right to reassign people so that everyone had a partner.

The results were predictable: Vic, Ian, Alfonso, Barry, Tim, Dai, and Jasper chose the dom side, along with myself, Fred and Jesús. Abe, Miles, Stan, Augie, Shabhaz, Paul, Gary, Harry and Jordan opted for being subs. While Piers might have preferred being a dom, he agreed to be a sub, to keep it balanced.

In Stage Three, each dom picked a sub, whom he could use with `no limits'. Traditionally, partners paired up, but with the presence of Jesús and Fred, things were a bit unsettled. I had hoped to celebrate Twelveday's climactic event with the love of my life, but I couldn't if the Overlord stepped in and grabbed him out from under me. I gestured to Jesús to make his selection, who deferred to Fred. From their body language, I suspected it was all arranged in advance.

• (Fred) I choose Piers.

HOMOWORLD – SETH

It was time for Jesús to make his selection. Please, not Abe, I thought. Jesús had made Abe his very first choice to fuck in Stage Two, and there was no restriction on picking him again for Stage Three.

• (Jesús) I choose . . .

Please, not Abe. Please, not Abe. Please, not Abe.

• (Jesús) Harry.

HOMOWORLD – HARRY

This morning I told Jordan about my nightmare. I dreamt I was in a city called Philadelphia, living alone with a cat. And I was miserable. I was good at my job and had a few casual friends, but I had no love life whatsoever. People ridiculed me because of my body. There was even a moment when barbecue sauce was poured over me and I was called a fat pig.

Fortunately, I woke up to reality. I was heavy, yes, but life couldn't be more splendid. Even though both Jordan and I were natural bottoms, we loved each other and our sexual predilections were satisfied by frequently double-dating a pair of tops. There was nothing I loved more than the feel of a muscular top plumbing my nether regions – which happened several times a week.

And now, the honor of being chosen by the Overlord himself. I was delirious.

Was it possible to be a happier man than I? I don't think so.

HOMOWORLD - ABE

• Now, everyone, you know the rules. Doms, you have six hours to do anything you please to your subs. You are expected to fuck him multiple times – and, thanks to it being Twelveday, you have an unlimited supply of semen to do it with. You may use any piece of equipment in the room, you can team up with another dom to tag-team your subs – spitroasting is absolutely encouraged, especially if the sub is in heavy bondage. You may do as much damage as you like to your sub, short of severing a body part – that won't be restored the next time he wakes up.

HOMOWORLD – JESÚS

Another feature we copied from Hamishland – auto-repair of injuries.

HOMOWORLD - ABE

• And remember, a prize will be awarded for the most damaged ass, as measured by the mark-o-meter. I have a feeling our friend Harry might win that one, given who he's partnered with.

• (Seth) And subs, we want to make sure you are as compliant as possible. And what can do that more readily than alcohol? The doms will force-feed you a stein full of gin-and-tipsies.

• (Harry) Gin-and-tipsies? You mean gin-and-tonic?

• (Seth) Well, that's what they are. We make them heavy on the gin.

• (Harry) Why do you call them gin-and-tipsies?

I looked at Seth. Seth looked at me.

• You know, I have no idea. It just came to me, I guess. Now, who wants handcuffs?

THE END