tagMind ControlSuch Stuff Ch. 15

Such Stuff Ch. 15


Part 15

Two heads are better than one

Lizzie stayed in bed all morning the next day. Sullen, angry and worried. She had hoped this was all a dream but it was too long, too coherent, too real for her to believe that. She was beginning to accept in her mind that the odious Conrad really had stolen her away from reality into the make believe, made up world of his book.

How dare he have had her pelted with tomatoes, how dare he smack her, how dare he touch her bottom, how dare he fuck her without permission. She was incensed — understandably furious.

But by afternoon she had reasoned there was no point simply hiding away. She was here, she must make the best of it and find a way to escape and get back home.

Was Conrad really causing her to do things, controlling her mind, or did he write them up in his book afterwards, after she had done them? She did not know the answer to the puzzle but she knew she needed to get hold of his book and read it.

She stood looking in her great walnut wardrobe trying to find something sensible to wear but all the dresses seemed to have an overly plunging neck­line and she really would rather her breasts were not free for all to see no mat­ter that everyone else seemed to have their genitalia or other private parts dis­played. Practical, as always, Lizzie wrapped a silk scarf tightly around her chest to hide her breasts, and stop them swinging free, before slipping a dress over her head. She looked at herself in the mirror. It certainly suited her. Even her grandmother would have approved—indeed been surprised to see Lizzie so well dressed.

She ventured out. Down in the long corridor she found it bustling with all manner of people. Mallow and one of her friends sauntered by almost naked but for a few bands of ribbon, done up in bows, and great bushy tails that seemed to grow right out from between their bottom cheeks. Lizzie turned to watch their bottoms. "Surely not," she thought but it did very much look like the tails were actually inserted in their bottoms and that was how they were held. Lizzie, always a little contemptuous of fashion, could not see that would catch on—even on the Paris catwalks.

To the side, seated in a small alcove, in a window seat with cushions, sat the Chevalier. His blue eyes looked up with pleasure to see Lizzie and he rose, smoothing down his impressive gold cloth suit. It would have been really im­pressive to Lizzie's eyes had his cock not been hanging out from where a nor­mal suit would have had flies with a zipper or even buttons. Even a casual glance showed he had not made a mistake—not forgotten something—the suit was designed to expose.

Lizzie launched into a complaint, "I don't understand where I am; I don't understand how I came to be here; I don't understand what this house, this place is; I really don't understand at all." Her tirade ended lamely and she stood looking at the Chevalier.

"What a lot of questions, ma cherie, these are not the sort of questions I can answer. This is, after all, how it is." He brightened, "perhaps together we can solve it, a puzzle we can work on."

"Two heads are better than one," said Lizzie.

"Ah formidable, mademoiselle you reach the solution all by yourself. He is the one to assist, yes the very one. You must go and see our friend from Galles, how you say Wales? He has two heads you see and knows a great deal as a result."

The Chevalier seemed so delighted with what Lizzie had said and so sure that this Welshman would help that she did not like to prolong the discussion and thought the phenomenon of a man with two heads was one she had to see. The directions were not complicated.

Lizzie crossed the lawn, over which she had run in such terror only the day before, to join a neat gravel path which wound around a rockery and there she came across a little stone built house with a matching wall to the front with a green painted wooden gate. Resting his arms on the gate was a middle-aged man dressed in tweed. As Lizzie drew closer she could see his suit was ex­ceptionally dapper, as if the man took great care of his personal appearance, and comprised plus fours, a waistcoat and a coat in a lovat green with large red squares. His hat was the same material, socks were green to match (with red tapes) and his shoes were beautifully polished brown brogues. Lizzie was puzzled by the modesty of the dress. It was not at all in keeping with what she had come to expect here. Indeed the house, the garden and the man all seemed very normal. He just had the usual single head like everybody else. It was puz­zling.

"Good morning, sir." The air of the man seemed to command a formal mode of address.

He had watched her approach and slowly raised he hat. He was very bald. "You have come to view, to marvel, to exclaim." His accent Welsh and musical.

It was not a question—but a statement. Lizzie's puzzlement grew.

"What have I come to see?" She asked

"What? Me of course." His chest seemed to puff out in his waistcoat. "You have come to see me and stand quite amazed. They all come—sooner rather than later—to marvel. It cannot be helped. I am unique, the most interesting person for miles around. Indeed I doubt you will find anyone nearly as interest­ing as me for ten, no twenty, maybe even thirty miles. Though I cannot think that even beyond that distance perhaps verging on forty or shall we say fifty..."

"Yes, I understand." The man was tedious. "I was told I should see you and..."

"Of course you should see me. Quite understandable. Everybody wants to. The Marchioness herself has called upon me several times and professed her­self quite fascinated and," he paused fractionally, "well satisfied. I..."

"...was told you could answer my question. You see..."

"A man such as me, being quite unique—you will not find a man such as me elsewhere not within or beyond fifty miles—can certainly answer your question and much else besides. But come in, come into my modest little gar­den through this gate and I will show you the marvel and answer your ques­tion."

"What marvel?" asked Lizzie and then wished she hadn't.

"What marvel? What! Don't you know? I cannot believe it. Why else would you come? Everyone comes to see David Ambrose Penstimen Fallick. Some days it is almost a queue out there. I really should charge admission on a graduated scale. You are so fortunate today for I do not have an appointment all morning. Very fortunate. Most surprising."

"No, I don't."

He looked puzzled, "You don't what? But before you answer me, perhaps you will take some refreshment. I make my own cordials, you know or perhaps, probably you have been told. Would you like Blackcurrant or Blackberry or Raspberry, or Gooseberry, or Winberry or something exotic like Lime or Lemon or..."

"Winberry please." Lizzie was worried the list would go on forever. For someone whose time was almost permanently taken up with visitors he seemed to have a remarkable amount of spare time for fruit gathering, cordial making and talking.

The man drew her round the side of the house into a pretty little garden with the most perfectly tended lawn—the stripes from the mower perfectly reg­ular. Clearly a lot of time was spent on gardening and the result impressive. Lizzie sat on a white metal garden chair, the skirts of her dress flowing around it. The sun was shining, the birds singing and the little garden beautiful. It was a lovely place to be and a superb day. Had Lizzie not felt herself a prisoner in Conrad's strange world she would have been very happy.

A clink of glasses caused her to look up from her reverie, the man was re­turning, now without his coat but carrying a tray with a jug and glasses. He poured Lizzie a drink and a glass for himself.

"What is a Winberry?"

"That is your question? You see up on the hills, see over there," he pointed and Lizzie looked up at the nearby hills, "there is a small shrub, quite small shrub which you will find if you walk there. You really should, you know, the view is panoramic. You can see for, oh I don't know, ten, no twenty, maybe thir­ty—it is difficult to say..."

"A long way?"

"Yes, a long way. And all around, yes the Winberry bush grows every­where, but very low, and in season why it has Winberries and I gather them—when I can find time—and bring them back to make cordial or jam or..."

"So not a garden fruit?"

"No, no wild like the Blackberry. Some people call it the Bilberry, some the Blaeberry others Whinberry or Whortleberry or..."

"Thank you, yes, you are most knowledgeable and most helpful," Lizzie re­ally did not want him to go on forever, "the Chevalier Heuron said I should see you if I wanted to know..."

"Of course you do, everyone does and now you shall see."

Once again it was not really a question, yet Lizzie did not know what he wanted to show her. It was evident he could not really believe she did not know what this 'marvel' was.

"You will be astounded." he assured Lizzie as he bent to undo his shoelaces—really an odd thing to do. Standing he busied himself with his plus fours.

"Surely," thought Lizzie, " he is not going to take them off - though I should not really be surprised as being dressed at all is hardly the norm here." And then it came to her "oh, surely not. Not even Conrad's odd mind could have..."

But he had. The tweed fell to the ground and the wonder was displayed. He truly was a man with two heads—two cock heads. He was a man with two penises.

"I can see it written all over your face. Your visage wears a look of being stunned, of amazement—of awe!"

Lizzie was indeed starring, for there at the junction of his thighs, hanging side by side, one hanging a little to the right, its fellow to the left, were two penises.

"How, how do you...?"

"How do I do many things you want to know? I understand - everybody does, I am a marvel."

He struck a pose; though Lizzie was not sure standing there in long woollen socks and a waistcoat but with no trousers and displaying a double penis was not more than faintly ridiculous.

"You may, of course, touch the exhibits—it is the done thing."

Lizzie was not at all sure she wanted to. She was unprepared for this oddi­ty. Oddity was a word she felt happier in her mind to use. It seemed not too pe­jorative, unlike the word 'freak' or 'freak show' which had instantly jumped to her mind before being replaced on proper reflection. Would it be rude to de­cline? What would Alice have thought was proper? But what, then, would Alice have thought of Conrad's ludicrous adult erotic obscene world did not bear thinking about.

Lizzie reached out and her small fingers closed around one soft shaft.

"You will need two hands, you know," said its proud possessor.

Lizzie took hold of the second penis in her other hand as she felt the first stir.

"It is odd," mused her host, "that the right is actually slightly larger than the left. It is like feet I suppose."

Lizzie looked at him to see if he was joking but he seemed deadly serious. Evidently to him his genitalia was not a subject to be taken at all lightly. Her fingers gently stroked the penises. They responded growing until they were both fully erect.

"Surely," said Lizzie, "one will get in the way of the other if you attempt to insert..."

"On one notable occasion I was able to insert both at once. Think of that. Imagine that. The pleasure of two. But the wonder is rather different. They op­erate independently. Completely so. It is as if they were attached to different bodies and not to one—to me! I can control them. Look! Stand back. Be sur­prised. See the left shrinks but the right stands firm. Now I could, if suitably engaged, insert just the one and hold the second in readiness. Think of that! First one working you, then the other. But there is more, much more. I am a marvel."

He seemed to be quite working himself up with his speech. Lizzie stood back and watched with amusement as he disclaimed standing in his woollen socks with one erect penis and one flaccid hanging next to it.

"See, I transfer my excitement and..."

Lizzie stared as the right hand penis began to droop whilst the left began to rise until it was the left standing and the right at rest.

"You may applaud."

Lizzie thought it churlish not to humour him and did.

"Moreover whilst the left is busy, perhaps exciting some girl to the heights of pleasure, should I feel a different need, a need to relieve myself, if you under­stand my meaning, then the right can discreetly undertake the task with no in­terference with the task of the left and..."

This was too much for Lizzie and she burst into a fit of the giggles. The man looked slightly annoyed.

Lizzie attempted to recover the situation, "How, how quite wonderful," she said, "I can scarcely believe such a thing. When not at intercourse can you," she attempted to put on a straight face, "urinate from, from perhaps both at the same time?"

He beamed, pleased by the question and his answer. "Of course. I can choose either or both. I can alternate the one to the other mid flow. I can even alternate between them in time to a piece of music."

Lizzie's nails pushed hard into the palms of her hands as she tried to sup­press her laughter. "How, how impressive and, and, may I ask about ejacula­tion? If one penis ejaculates does this mean..."

"You wish to see, you wish me to demonstrate? Of course I would be de­lighted, you will be amazed and the experience will be exceptionally memo­rable. I am delighted to accede to your request. You will need to divest yourself of those clothes of course."

Lizzie had not exactly been planning to copulate with this ridiculous man but now she found herself rather caught. She had asked too many questions. How could she explain he had misunderstood her enquiry, that she really had no desire to be fucked by him and his duplicate penises, that all she wanted was an answer to her question about Conrad and his world? The easiest course, though, did seem to go along with the idea. He was not Conrad after all. It took very little time to drop her scarf and dress to the floor.

"Ah yes, most charming. I am further aroused."

And so he was, his right rising to join the left. Lizzie was uncertain what to do. Should she lie down on the grass and be taken or should she take a clos­er look at the marvel. She thought the latter the better choice and so knelt and was rather surprised to find her head being patted.

"Of course—do feel free. What a pleasure for you to hold one in each hand and nibble first one then the other, to let your sweet lips enfold one for a time and then to just move your head a little and enjoy the other, to suck deeply on one before taking its fellow. Double the pleasure for you."

Lizzie thought he was rather over-emphasising the advantage to her. Nonetheless the remarkable picture of two penises rising from a common source just in front of her was certainly different. Her friend Lotte would never have seen the like. There again, it was doubtful Lotte had ever seen the more normal single arrangement so close and, to be fair, it was only recently that Lizzie herself had developed such experience and even then mostly in the most vivid of dreams.

Tentatively her tongue reached out and she licked the left penis head. It was smooth and warm. She began to fellate the penis. It was an odd feeling sucking deeply on one penis and feeling another sliding along her cheek. After a time she swapped and began to play with the right, letting the now moist­ened left slip along her other cheek. Holding the two heads together she ran her tongue across both but it was more than she could do to take them into her mouth at the same time. It had seemed, to her, the right thing to try.

Lizzie alternated the one to the other. Taking her hand from one she mas­saged his scrotum. She had not noticed before but now she held it in her hand she could feel the presence of four testes, "an unusually big bag of nuts," she thought to herself, "I suppose it goes with the penises."

"What joy you experience! But now I will demonstrate. Feel as you suck on the right, the left shrinks. Witness my amazing control. Unbelievable is it not?"

Lizzie did not think this her most pleasurable sexual experience to date, in­deed she was not sure she was actually aroused, but certainly she could feel the left penis sliding down her left cheek as it wilted. She let go of the right and begun to suck the wilting left and it began to grow in her mouth, expanding as her tongue tickled it. But as it grew the right wilted. She let the left drop from her mouth and looked at them both, one rising, one falling. Her eyes glanced up at Dai Ambrose Penstimen Fallick, "Can you make them both go soft?" she asked.

"Not when I am aroused, but, of course, yes if I am not... or I have come with both." He beamed. It was clear he relished questions about his generous genitalia.

Lizzie humoured him. "And can you come with both simultaneously?"

His chin rose a little and he turned his head to one side, "Yes, a wonder to behold, a picture indeed...but it requires great skill and practice. Not some­thing you possess... as yet. You must visit and practice. I should be happy to consult my diary and see when I can fit you in. It is such a pleasure for young girls to take an interest in art."

To avoid a further fit of the giggles Lizzie stuffed the ruby end of the en­gorged penis into her mouth and resumed her work. "What a peculiar man," she thought. Lizzie worked well, the penis slipping between her lips as she bobbed her head, her tongue tickling.

"Perhaps we might recline and you permit me to... oh, oh dear... I think you have over-excited me. Here I come!" And he did, pumping into Lizzie's mouth. She in her turn swallowed and tickled, as she knew she should. The stream ended and Lizzie let the penis go and she sat back on her haunches. As she watched, the spent penis began to soften as, dribbling slightly, it started to swing downwards but, as it did so, its fellow began to grow and as the one de­scended the other ascended, rising to pass its companion like the two cars of a Funicular Railway.

"I am as excited and aroused as I was before," he announced. "That is the great advantage to you. A small mishap, a premature conclusion does not in­convenience the ladies for I, unlike other men, am not spent, am not finished, can carry on and still bring you to a wonderful conclusion. See, I stand ready. You, though, must lie and make ready." He smiled, clearly delighted in him­self.

Lizzie lay on the grass, her knees a little open, the sun catching her be­tween her legs. Dai Fellick, in his long woollen socks, knelt over her with his re­maining one cock readied. His hands touched her breasts for the first time and it seemed as if he might actually be considering her needs rather than his own. But the interest was short, not of great benefit to her, and his evident greater in­terest in penetration was soon accomplished.

It was strange the feeling of a cock inside her and the simultaneous touch of another, soft and wet, on her thigh. Lizzie did think that had they been in tandem, rather than side by side, the spent penis might have been of more use in being ideally placed to touch her just on her little clit as its fellow moved within her.

Lizzie's heart was not really in the act and she found herself more interest­ed in the mechanics than the pleasure and was no way near a successful con­clusion when Dai Fellick came for the second time. Lizzie wondered to herself whether another advantage of his unusual arrangement might prove to be the ability to maintain continual intercourse if his other cock recovered but this did not prove the case as with a bit of puffing her host rose.

He announced. "Well, that was most pleasant, most pleasant indeed. Thank you young lady for visiting me. I have most definitely enjoyed your visit and I hope it has proved fascinating, enjoyable and educational for you. Do visit again and ask me any questions you like. But after all this exercise I must rest so I bid you good day."

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