The Telemachus Story Archive

Symbiosis
By Hooder
Email: hooder@ntlworld.com



Symbiosis

Nobody knows when they arrived. They’d clearly been here for some time when we eventually discovered them and the human race suddenly realised that at last it actually had been invaded by aliens.

Even now, not much is known about them, and the little that is known is inconclusive and mysterious. If Subject Zero hadn’t been found we might still be unaware of their presence. Subject Zero was dead – which is probably the only reason it was discovered, as their ability to conceal themselves approaches perfection.

Of course the whole thing was immediately classified. Subject Zero was taken to a military research establishment and dissected, but gave up relatively little information.

It is suspected (although there is no direct evidence for this) that the creatures are polymorphic – that they can appear in more than one shape – but whether they can physically change their shape, or rather control our minds so that we percieve them in a different form, is not known. It is, however, suspected that they can, to a large extent, manipulate our perceptions.

Thankfully they don’t appear to want to eat us, take over our planet, or otherwise interefere with us. They feed, as far as can be ascertained from the post mortem of Subject Zero, on bacteria – in large amounts – and bacteria we have in abundance.

Most of the little we do know about them comes from the testimony of one person: “John”. Whether in this single case they didn’t apply the mind control they normally use on their victims, which make them forget all the interaction between them, or whether John for some reason was not susceptible to their control, we do not know.

John is an athletic caucasian male, 19, he is intelligent and articulate.

The following is a transcript of an interview between John and Dr. Earnest Forsythe, of the Camberwell Institute. Agent Smith of the DMCST was also present.

EF: Interview with John, fifteenth of May. Present: Dr Earnest Forsythe, Agent Smith, and the subject known as ‘John’. Time: thirteen oh five.

[Shuffling of papers.]

EF: Now, John, Are you feeling Ok? Are you happy to answer some questions at this time?”

J: Yes, thank you.

EF: Ok. Perhaps you’d describe your meeting with the creature you call ‘Kito’.

J: I didn’t know he was… different at the time. I didn’t find that out for a while. I was on my way home from the gym. It was a Tuesday evening, about five thirty…

* * *

John was buzzing. The workout had been a good one, and his skin still tingled from the hot shower. He hummed to himself as he walked down the tree-lined road, trying to decide what to do that evening. Then he saw the boy sitting on the low wall of the park on the opposite side of the road.

His mouth went dry, his pupils dilated, and he stopped dead in his tracks. The boy was not only the most beautiful youth he had ever set eyes on in his life, he also oozed sex. John had never in his wildest dreams imagined that such an inexpressably hot boy could possibly exist. He was about John’s age and build, with a mop of dark hair that fell in a jagged fringe over a pair of big blue eyes. He was wearing a black tee shirt, acid-wash jeans, and white trainers - and he was smiling directly at John. John’s mind was suddenly totally devoid of content except for one single, compelling thought: he had to have that boy.

The boy jumped down from the wall and walked over to him. With every step closer, he seemed more beautiful, more sexy. His hips moved in ways that made John go weak at the knees, and that smile seemed to penetrate his soul. The boy stopped a pace away. “Hi,” he said.

John swallowed. His power of speech seemed to have deserted him.

“I’m Kito. Wanna have sex?”

John had stopped breathing. He gulped in a lungful of air. Then he swallowed again. “Yes...” He managed to get out.

“Good. Follow me.” The boy turned and started walking off down the road.

John shook his head to clear it, and tried to follow; he was having great difficulty making his legs work. The boy stopped, looked back. “Come on then,” he laughed.

There was so much John wanted to ask Kito, but his mind wasn’t functioning and he was still not sure that if he tried to speak, only incoherent croaks would come out. They crossed the road, walked through the park and into the wood beyond it.

The trees closed around them and John followed Kito down narrow paths in the undergrowth until they came to a small stream. Kito stopped and turned. He opened his arms and the two boys melted into a passionate embrace. They were ravenous for each other’s body. Very soon their clothes lay scattered by their feet and Kito was kneeling on the ground, sucking John’s cock. Within seconds John came, Kito swallowing his spunk, his eyes closed in intense pleasure.

They lay on the soft earth and kissed. John started to unfasten Kito’s jeans, but the boy smiled and shook his head. “Gonna make you cum again...” He licked his way slowly southwards until he was back at John’s crotch, and gave the boy his second intense orgasm in less than five minutes.

Kito caressed John’s balls. “You are good,” he said. Then he stood up and got dressed. “Tomorrow. Same time. I’ll have something for you that you’ll like a lot.”

John couldn’t take his eyes off Kito. He watched the boy disappear into the trees, then slowly put his tracksuit and trainers back on. He felt totally drained – but he was happier than he had been for a very long time.

He didn’t remember the walk home – his mind was full of Kito. ‘Kito’. Strange name – it sounded Chinese or Japanese – but he hadn’t looked either.

John found himself outside his home. He let himself in, collapsed on the bed, and slept.

* * *

He managed to get through the next day, but every moment he was thinking about Kito. He’d had an almost constant erection (which he’d had to flatten with a very tight jockstrap), and he would have wanked himself off several times during the day if he hadn’t been seeing the boy again later. Finally it was time. He showered and set off. Then it occurred to him: had Kito meant the road where they’d met, or in the woods, when he’d said ‘same time tomorrow’? John quickened his pace – if the boy wasn’t in the street he’d try to find the place by the little stream again.

Relief flooded through him: Kito was sat on the wall, same as yesterday. This time he had a leather jacket on, and tighter jeans. He was holding two crash helmets, and a blue motorbike stood at the side of the road. He was smiling as John approached. God, the boy looked delicious in that jacket. John was a biker himself, and seriously into leather. And those tight jeans… As he walked towards Kito his eyes were riveted to the boy.

Kito handed him one of the helmets. “Get on. We’re going for a ride.” He swung a leg over the bike and started it up. When John was ready Kito popped the bike into first gear and they set off.

John put his arms around Kito’s waist, his fingers stroking the tight denim over his thighs. The feeling of the boy’s body between his legs was wonderful. They rode through the town and out into a part of the countryside that John wasn’t familiar with. Kito seemed to know where he was going, though, turning onto roads which became smaller as time went on. Eventually he brought the bike to a stop at the end of a track, by an old brick building. John followed him in.

At first the place appeared to be a ruin inside, but as his eyes adapted to the darkness he saw that in fact there was evidence that it had been used: a padded table stood in the centre of the room they were in.

“Take your clothes off and lie down, John.”

He didn’t need asking twice.

There were restraints attatched to the corners of the table, and Kito buckled John’s wrists and ankles into them. “I’m going to blindfold you.”

John was well used to being blindfolded, and loved it, but right now what he really wanted more than anything else was to look at that beautiful, sexy boy - so as Kito approached him with the blindfold he protested and tried to stop him from getting it around his head. Kito chuckled. He allowed John to fight it for a few moments, teasing him with it, but then he got it on and pulled it tight, plunging the boy into blackness. Shit! Even the way he’d had done that had been fucking horny! Kito was perfect.

There was a pause for a few seconds, then John felt the boy’s mouth sliding slowly onto his cock. It felt smooth and wet. It worked its way further and further down, until it was touching his balls. John had a large cock, but Kito was having no trouble taking every bit of it. Here it paused for a while, as if it were feeling his cock, and then it slid back, stopping with just the head enclosed. Then it began to move.

It moved in a gentle, rhythmic motion, with some back-and forth rotation. Then the rotation stopped, and it seemed as if it had found the perfect position that would be most effective on him; now, whenever it moved, it sent waves of ecstasy shooting through him. Kito’s mouth began to suck, gently. Within a few seconds John was close to cumming. But then its movements abruptly became much smaller, the sucking less; it teased his cock with slow, tiny movements, bringing the boy to the edge of orgasm and holding him there, not allowing him to go further.

John was experiencing intense pleasure – and intense frustration. He needed to cum. He thrust his hips, but whenever he did this Kito stopped his teasing altogether, and moved his head with the thrusting cock, so that there was no friction there at all. Then, when John stopped thrusting, he resumed his slow, gentle sucking.

John tried everything he could to cum. He willed himself to go over the edge, but he couldn’t. He tried suddenly and unexpectedly pushing his cock forward into the sucking mouth, but it responded by stopping all movement instantly – even before the thrust was completed. There was no way he could get Kito to let him cum.

The frustration was building up alarmingly. He’d been on the edge for what seemed like ages and he could not cum. He was in heaven and he was in hell at the same time. His eyes were open behind the blindfold – both because he wanted to see Kito so badly, and also, perversely, to remind himself that the boy had blindfolded him so that he couldn’t.

Then Kito relented: his mouth sucked up and down over the boy’s desperate cock head and John came. In an explosive orgasm he shot his spunk into the boy’s mouth. Kito took every drop.

John fell back onto the table, exhausted.

Kito removed the blindfold, leaned down and kissed him slowly and gently. His lips were soft and warm. When the kiss was over John closed his eyes. “That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” he said. “Thank you”.

Kito’s smile broadened. “It will get even better. Same time tomorrow.”

He dropped John off where they’d met and disappeared down the road.

* * *

If the previous day had been difficult to get through, this one was worse. He couldn’t get Kito out of his mind. He’d never had such a beautiful boy interested in him before – and the sex was like nothing he’d ever known. He wanted to lick the boy all over, to kiss him, to fuck him, to suck his cock, to devour him. His instructing work at the gym, luckily, did not call for much in the way of constant concentration, so he was able to function well enough. He had to wear the tight jockstrap again, though, to hide his permanent erection. This boy was more effective than Viagara. At last it was time for his own workout, and that was actually the hardest part – he couldn’t focus on his exercises properly, and his need to wank was so strong that he couldn’t think of much else. But finally it was over and he closed his eyes as the hot water from the shower rained over him.

Kito was in full biker leathers and bike boots this time. And his jeans were skintight. He’d also done something to his hair – it was blonder now, and spiky. This was almost too much for John – he was a biker himself, and he was seriously into leather. Seeing Kito yesterday in his bike jacket had been bad enough, but now - in tight, bulging leather jeans, and bike boots as well, he was fucking gorgeous. And John had a weakness for blond boys.

He had to concentrate very hard to stop himself from cumming on the back of the bike.

They went into a different room inside the brick building this time. There was a padded table in here too, but this one had many more restraints attached to it, and a pair of raised stirrups at the end. From its side hung several strong leather straps.

“You know the drill,” smiled Kito.

John stripped and lay on the table. The boy produced some stiff black leather fingerless mitts, which he pulled on over John’s hands.

“Make fists.”

John did so, and Kito buckled small straps on the mitts to keep his fingers down and to make his hands useless. He drank in the sight of the gorgeous boy as he secured restraints and straps over his wrists, arms, shoulders, chest, and stomach. A particularly tight one went over his pelvis. Kito’s jacket was new too – this one was thicker leather, black and shiny, and studded. And he’d turned the collar up. His leather jeans were skintight, highlights reflecting off the muscles of his thighs and the bulge of his hard cock in the overhead light as he moved, and his heavy bike boots had straps and rivets on them. He was, for John, absolutely pure sex - the perfect leatherboy.

He lifted John’s legs onto the stirrups and strapped them in place on the metal supports, then slid the stirrups up the table until John’s knees were over his navel, and fastened them there.

Kito inspected his work, and nodded to himself. He stood by the side of the table, hooked his thumbs into his studded belt, stood with his weight on one leg, his hips tilted, and looked down at his helpless victim. He ran his tongue over his white teeth. “I am going to make you need to cum very badly. Very badly indeed. And when I do make you cum it is going to be the best orgasm you have ever had.” He picked up a black leather hood. “Am I sexy? Do you want to watch this sexy leather boy working on you…?” He rotated the hood in his fingers.

“Oh fuck yes. More than anything. You are beautiful.”

Kito grinned. “Can you see through black leather?” He held the hood up.

“No. Please don’t hood me.”

“Oh, I’m going to hood you. Do you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you want to see me so badly. I’m going to hood you so that you can’t.” He approached John with the hood.

“No! Please!” John was already close to cumming – this boy knew exactly how to push his buttons.

“Well stop me then.” He held the hood over the top of John’s head.

John struggled under the straps and shook his head from side to side to try to stop the boy from getting it onto him.

As he’d done yesterday, Kito played with him for a while, letting him get his head away from his hands, laughing teasingly at the boy’s efforts, but then in one quick, sudden motion he pulled the hood down over his head and strapped it on very tightly.

It held him in a solid grip. He moved his head from side to side in urgent protest but the hood followed him. It ballooned in and out with each breath, the sexy black leather squeezing tight over his face when he inhaled. He had never felt so helpless and so horny in his life.

He felt something between his legs. It curled around the base of his cock and his balls like a cockring, and squeezed gently. Then it pulled them backwards between his thighs, and held them there, his rigid cock sticking out at an angle behind his legs.

He jumped as something touched his arse. It explored around the hole, then slipped gently inside. John hated to be fucked, but this – whatever it was – was thin, warm, and flexible. It moved smoothly and slowly past the sphincters, and he gasped as it found his prostate and rested there, motionless. Then it seemed to grow in thickness slightly. It didn’t hurt at all; in fact it felt unbelievably fucking horny.

Something touched his nipples. What felt like a finger and thumb took each one and held it. More of them on the soles of his bare feet – and on his sides, just below the ribs! How many people were there here? If it was only Kito, then how the fuck was he doing it?

John didn’t have time to think about this, though – as the boy’s lips came down on his cock. His mouth slid slowly downwards, as it had done yesterday, until the entire length of it was inside. The lips sealed tightly around the base of the shaft – and then John felt something fantastic: something – some things – were stroking lightly over the head! Inside the mouth for fuck’s sake! Some of them slid over it and came to rest encircling the base of the glans, and another one was right on the piss-slit. This was John’s sweet spot – he could make himself cum with just one single fingertip when he was wanking, if he stroked slowly over the very tip of his cock head.

He was already close to the point of orgasm. But the mouth and the – other things – were absolutely motionless. In the position Kito had got him in, he couldn’t even thrust his cock like he’d been able to do yesterday; now he had no control whatsoever - he was absolutely dependant on the boy to let him cum. The black leather hood pressed over his face as if Kito were holding it there, just to make him helpless. And helpless was exactly what he did feel – completely and utterly.

Everything remained motionless until, after a while, John felt himself back off from the point of orgasm. A few minutes later he was still ragingly horny, but in no danger of cumming.

The thing on his prostate began to massage gently. The ones on his nipples squeezed. The mouth began to suck slowly, and the things on his cock head moved. The ring of them around his glans slid up and down over it, the one on the tip began to stroke across the piss-slit. It was all incredibly slow, incredibly gentle – but it got John back to the edge in seconds flat. He was going to cum! YES!

Suddenly several things happened at once: everything stopped; the things on his sides suddenly dug in to the muscles below his ribs; and the ones at his feet scraped pointed ends over his bare soles. John was horrendously ticklish at the best of times, but restrained helpless and hooded as he was, it was pure torture. He screamed.

The impending orgasm dissipated instantly. As soon as it had gone, they stopped.

A minute later, the sexual stimulation began again.

John was beside himself: he was restrained helpless and vulnerable; his cock was held and pulled back to make it more sensitive; he was hooded, the black leather pressing tightly over his face blindfolding and gagging him; his prostate was being worked on; his nipples were being squeezed; his cock was being sucked; his cock head was being stroked; and the very tip of it was being teased and tickled exactly on the spot that was his single greateat weakness.

His nervous system was not built to withstand this level of stimulation – he was going to CUM! .

But then, again, all stimulation stopped, and the things on his sides and feet worked on him, shattering the moment with intense, unbearable tickling.

John struggled and fought in the restraints. He was so fucking close! He didn’t understand it – even with the awful tickling he should have been able to will himself over the edge – he’d been wanked by a guy once where he’d been on the brink of cumming and the guy had got cramp in his foot and had let go suddenly, but still, by an effort of will he’d been able to complete his orgasm. But not this time. Something had happened in his mind, and he had no control at all. He let out a long howl of frustration and tore at the restraints holding his arms down. It did no good. Once again the feelings of impending orgasm disappeared, overpowered by his sides and soles.

After a pause, the mouth and the other things came to life again. Very slowly the mouth began to move and to suck, and the things inside it began to tease his cock head. Warmly and wetly it started to milk him again. The thing around his balls tightened its grip and pulled his cock back a little further, the one in his arse pulsed and massaged, and his nipples were worked on.

It was all much, much slower than last time, though. Everything was barely moving. Even so, John was so manically horny that – although it took longer than before – he was soon back to the edge. This was horniness of a kind he’d never known he’d needed – hell, that he’d never even known existed!

Everything stopped again. In desperation John pulled at the restraints and yelled into the hood as his ticklish sides and feet were worked on, but the leather hood muffled his cries like a gloved hand clamped over his mouth.

This was insanely unbearable. He needed to cum – God, how he needed to fucking cum! His balls felt like they were full to bursting with spunk, and every time Kito repeated the cycle the pressure in them mounted further. But, as before, the tickling instantly destroyed the feeling. It destroyed his immediate ability to think about it, but it did nothing to reduce his need. The effect of the frustrating teasing was building up, gradually but relentlessly and, on a boy who had an extreme fetish for leather and helplessness, it was working on him like nothing else had ever done before. He felt so utterly, so completely controlled. And by a beautiful, sexy leatherboy straight out of his wettest dreams.

It began again.

John had long ago lost all track of time. It could have been an hour, three, ten – he had no idea how long he’d been strapped down to that table, how many times Kito had brought him to the point of orgasm and then, sadistically, made it impossible for him to achieve it. He was going mad.

It began again. Every time it began, one tiny part of his brain knew that everything would stop and that dreadful tickling would snatch away from him the orgasm he needed so compellingly with every fibre of his being, but the rest of his mind was so occupied with dealing with the unbelievably horny stimulation that, every time, it suppressed that tiny part as, yet again, he gave himself up to mind-shattering ecstasy.

The things on his nipples were squeezing and twisting gently from side to side; his prostate was being massaged and his arse gently fucked. His cock was being sucked and teased as it brought him up to the very edge again. He was there, on the very brink of orgasm. He had stopped breathing. Time slowed to a stop. His body was as tight as a piano string, every muscle humming with tension. He was there.

Everything stopped, as always.

But then something different happened: there was no tickling. The single little tendril on the tip of his cock began to move again. Nothing else – only that. Right on his sweet spot. Exactly on it. His heart rate soared – he’d already been on the very brink of orgasm, but now it was as if some microscope had zoomed in on the distance between where he was and the absolute point of no return, and was watching as the tendril, with absolute precision, took him – an atom’s width at a time – closer and closer to that point. The tendril was tickling the inner sides of his piss-slit. He had never in his life felt that before - it was the single most horny thing he’d ever experienced.

Closer…

Closer…

Closer...

And then, like the straw on the camel’s back, one final, tiny movement pushed him over into the bottomless pit.

The mouth sucked. It moved up and down the shaft of his cock with fast, firm strokes, making wet slobbery noises in the bare room.

The thing in his arse fucked him hard.

The end of it pummeled his prostate.

The black leather of the hood vacuumed itself onto his face.

The ones inside the mouth went to work on his cock head, the ring sliding up and down over his glans, and the tendril rubbing his sweet spot mercilessly.

He arched his back, his muscles compressing under the tight leather straps, he threw back his head and screamed like a demented demon. His spunk pumped out into the milking mouth as it worked on him – sucking hard and fast, the tendrils moving madly over his hypersensitive cock head. His orgasm was transcendental. It went on until the universe ended - until his balls were completely drained.

* * *

He lay there panting, his chest heaving, the hood ballooning in and out, sweat glistening on his body. The mouth and the other things had gone.

After what could have been minutes or hours, he felt hands at his head, undoing the straps on the hood. He squinted in the light as it was slowly pulled off, and the gorgeous face of Kito was smiling down at him.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck! That was unbelievable! How the fuck did you do that?”

Kito was smiling, but said nothing.

“That was fucking amazing! No, it was more than amazing – it was… There aren’t any words to describe what it was. They don’t exist.

Kito released him from the table and they kissed, slowly and passionately.

The leatherboy gently pushed him away to arm’s length and gazed at him. “You are very special,” he whispered.

John shook his head slowly. “How did you do that? Tell me. There’s something about you – you’re...”

Kito raised his head slightly. “I’m what?”

“I don’t know.” He looked around, looking for the things Kito had used on him. Thin, flexible, warm things. But he knew he would see only the table, and the restraints. He knew about restraints, and he knew it hadn’t been them.

“Please, Kito.” He took the boy’s hand and squeezed it. “If I mean anything to you at all, please tell me who you are. I need to know.”

Kito was silent for a while. Then he said, “Do you really want to know?”

John nodded, his eyes fixed to Kito’s.

Kito came to a decision. “All right. But it’ll freak you out.”

John smiled. “I’m not easily freaked. And I have half an idea anyway.”

Kito paused again, still not sure. He was gazing deeply into John’s eyes. Finally he said: “Ok. I’ll let you see. I have a feeling that it will be all right.” He stepped away from John, stood with his hands by his sides. “Are you ready?”

It was like a CGI effect in a movie. Quickly, smoothly and silently, Kito changed into something else. It was a light green cylinder on three spindly legs. Behind the cylinderical mouth it broadened out slightly – here a pair of small green eyes sat – and the back of it ended in a blunt point. The mouth of the cylinder was bulbous and pink, and the inner surface was wet, slippery. It turned so he could see inside it – little tendrils moved at the bottom, like tiny prehensile tails. There was not much of a body to speak of – but the tentacles came from what there was, below the head, and the tripod legs extended from here. Its skin looked scaly, but it was smooth. More tentacles were appearing from the sides of its body as John watched. A larger one rose into the air, thickening as he watched. The tip moved back and forth as if it were waving to him. He knew that was the thing that had worked on his prostate. The creature stayed as it was for perhaps a minute, and then changed back into the leatherboy.

“Is that how you really look?”

Kito shook his head. “No. I will not show you that. This is the body I created just for you. We create different bodies for different people. This one was most… efficient for working on you. And the way I look now was created just for you as well. I can learn from your mind, from your lusts, what you like, what turns you on most of all, and refine my bodies – and how you see them - to do that.”

John nodded. That explained the increasing amounts and sexiness of the leathers, and also Kito’s blond hair.

He realised he should be questioning his sanity at this point – but he’d just been through a very real and very intense demonstration that what he’d seen was not a figment of a deranged imagination. Somehow he was quite prepared to accept it all. Perhaps that was Kito working on his mind. Who cared?

“Where are you from?”

Kito chuckled. “Not pronounceable in your language. And you would never have heard of it anyway. A long, long, way away.”

“So why did you come to Earth?”

“We came across it in passing. We were one of many ships looking for suitable homes. Our system went nova a long time ago.”

“And why do you do… this?”

Kito laughed. “Partly because we enjoy doing it, but mostly because human sperm has a similar effect on us that cocaine has on you. It is also every bit as addictive.”

“So why the unbearable edging?”

“The longer and closer you’re kept to the point of cumming, the more concentrated the chemical in your spunk gets – the one which has the effect on us that we want. And also the more spunk we get. So the longer and more intensely I keep you on the edge, the better.” Kito smiled. “I’m sorry, but I intend make you produce a lot of very high-quality spunk. That last lot I got from you was record-breaking – but you’re going to do much better...”

John nodded. “Why me?”

“We have an instinct for producers of spunk in large amounts and of high quality. You were one. In fact, you’ve turned out to be the best I’ve ever had – or am ever likely to have. Some of my brethren are very jealous.” He grinned proprietorially.

“Are there many of you here? Have you been here long? Why do you hide?”

“Yes there are, and yes we’ve been here a long time. And we hide because it’s safer. We don’t want to frighten humans – and you know exactly what would happen if your governments knew about us: we’d be hounded and rounded up and experimented on and… It’s easier this way.”

John nodded. “But I know, now.”

“Yes, you know.” He paused. “I could make you forget. Very easily.”

“Please, please don’t do that. It’s something that is very precious to me.” John looked down at his feet for a while, then back up to Kito’s eyes. “I want to tell you something, but I want you to know why I’m saying it. I love you. I love you not because of the sex – though that is - well, I don’t know what it is, except that it’s the most wonderful thing I’ve ever experienced in my life – I love you. Whether you’re green and scaly or a beautiful biker in leathers. Makes no difference to why I love you.” He chuckled. “I’m making no sense, am I.”

Kito put his arms on John’s shoulders. “You’re making sense. I don’t pretend to know what ‘love’ is, John, but I feel something for you that I’ve never felt for any other human before – nor for one of my own kind, come to that. I don’t ever want to lose you. Ever.”

“I think that is what love is,” said John.

Kito pulled him close and they kissed again.

“And there are many, many other things I can do to you.” he whispered. “Things you cannot begin to imagine...”

* * *

EF: So, you met on the road on your way back from the gym, you had sex in the woods, and it was the most wonderful sex you’d ever had. Your eyes were closed throughout. When it was over you opened your eyes, saw a ‘green creature with tentacles and a cylindrical mouth’ getting up from between your legs. It turned and ran off on ‘three spindly legs’ into the woods. You never saw it or Kito again. Is that it?

J: That’s it.

EF: I see. Is there anything else you can remember about the encounter?

[Pause]

J. No. Nothing.

[Pause. Sound of writing. Pause. Agent Smith whispers.]

EJ: Ok, John. Please wait here. We’ll be back shortly. Tape paused.

[Tape paused]

[Tape restarted]

EJ: Thank you for waiting, John. Well, I don’t think there’s any reason to keep you here. Thank you for your co-operation, you’ve been very helpful. Interview terminated at… one twenty.

[Sounds of chairs scraping]

[End of tape]

* * *

John opened his front door before the sound of the first knock had had a chance to die away. An elderly, grey-haired woman in a grey business suit came in. John closed the door, locked it, and turned around. Kito, his black leathers shining in the light, grabbed him and forced his mouth onto John’s. They fumbled their way into the playroom and landed on the restraint table. Finally they came up for air.

“Oh fuck, I need a fix,” said Kito.

“You think YOU need a fix? You have no fucking idea...”