Witness

"OK, you heard the lady, let's spice this bear up night now," Delilah said. She clapped her hands and said in a passable imitation of Phil Silvers in the old Sergeant Bilco show, "Hiya, hiya, hiya. Let's get a move on, people.

"That means you too, Doberman," she said to an overweight and none too smart plebe, who bore more than a passing resemblance to Flounder in Animal House.

In the meantime, John Shaftsman was still busy porking the living shit out of Sarah's anus and cooz.

He jumped when a hot tongue suddenly went to work on his own ass and balls. He tried to turn around, but could not catch a glimpse of the highly skilled analinguist cum teabagger behind him.

Then he felt two additional tongues going to work on his ears, snaking their way into his ear canals and past his tympanic membrane into the deep pleasure centers of his midbrain. He tried to glimpse the owners of said tongues in his peripheral vision, but failed in this endeavor. Shaftsman felt a warmth suffusing his body and felt himself merging into a brilliant white light in which there was no Shaftsman, no physical world, just the unbridled pleasure of union with a pure consciousness surpassing his own.

He felt a tongue emerge from his abdomen and wrap itself around his namesake. Soon it began to contract rhythmically, squeezing it like boa constrictor as it slid up and down his throbbing shaft.

"You can't do that," John. said.

"Can't do what, Sweetheart?"

"Pass your tongue right through me. It violates the laws of physics, specifically the Pauli Exclusion Principle."

"You always do what the laws of physics tell you to do?" Sarah asked, her voice somewhat distorted by the fact that her tongue was mostly enclosed by his abdomen. "That doesn't sound very adventurous to me."

"Yeah, but the laws of physics are true. We have no choice but to obey them."

"You'll find that you are a godling here in the Singularity, my fancy friend. You don't obey the laws of physics in here, they obey you. I'll show you. Hold up your right hand. "what do you see? How many fingers?"

"Six,"

"Look again."

"Ok, three, just like in Avatar."

"Show me your true form."

John carefully discarded all that he knew about himself and his world.

"How many now?"

Jon raised his right hand again. "Eight, if you count tentacles as fingers .Wait, now they're folding into each other in every which way but loose. Lights are flashing and moving in complex ways that I cannot describe."

"That's because you, I mean I, have changed this proto-realm into a five-dimensional universe."

"Well who did it, you or me?"

""You will find soon that you are me, I am you, and we are all together, namely the One that precedes Time Itself.

"See how they run like pigs from a gun, see how they fly," John muttered.

"What did you say?"

"Nothin.'"

"But I fear I have blown your mind enough for one day, my Fancy man." Delilah said . "Now, where we? I believe you were getting the shit porked out of you a couple of proto-universes ago Let us return to those halcyon moments of yester-minute, and let you blow off some of that steam shall we?.

John Shaftsman returned to the sacred duty of humping and cornholing the living shift out of the bound and helplessly spread body of Sarah Stolzfus, Brigadoon's Chief Librarian. Both of his cocks were on fire with desire. His balls throbbed for release, and his still faceless cornholer and teabagger squeezed his cojones in her apparently denture-free mouth, clamping down on them hard and tugging them back and forth back and forth as the white heat built up in John Shaftsman's quivering body, which was ready to explode at any minute. The boa-constructor type tongue tightened around John's johnson and began to pump him up and down, soon joined by an equally enthusiastic pair of,Pauli's Exclusion Principle-defying hands. A very enthusiastic tongue was flicking in and out of John's anus.

Now, two unidentified, possibly forked tongues circled around the convolutions of John's ears, teasing them at acupuncture point s that were not likely listed on any published maps of qi meridians. He felt the heat inside his head as the hot tongues embedded themselves in his midbrain and began to assault his cerebral cortex, turning on every pleasure center to be found within John's skull. They all came simultaneously, with a loud collective shriek, as the tops of the heads of all of the orgy participants popped, releasing what John could only assume were a flotilla of gametes resembling dandelion spores, miniature glowing tentacle-bearing jellyfish, or those little personality-vetting flying hydra-like creatures in the movie Avatar. More of them popped out of everyone's ears, in literal fulfillment of Delilah's prophecy.

Soon the entire library staff was lying in a semi-comatose condition on the library floor. Delilah clapped her hands together in the alligator cheer perfected over the decades by the thousands of University of Florida students. She again issued orders with her Sergeant Bilco Voice. "OK, ladies and germs, we need to hurry.

"Hiya, Hiya, Hiya ," she added. We've only got 30 minutes until the Twelve Gays of Christmas ceremony starts. After that we lose the biological windows.

The one called Doberman stepped forward and said, "The door is locked, we'll never get in. Mistress. What's we gonna do? What's we gonna do?"

Delilah hit Doberman on his forehead. He shook his head to clear it. "Thanks, Mistress. I needed that. May I have another? I could have used a V8."

"You see any V8 around here?"

Doberman hung his considerable neck. "No, Mistress. I only got one question, Mistress. How am I going to go through the door? I weigh 670 pounds.

"You're going to shapeshift, silly."

"I've done the calculations, Mistress. There is no way to get 670 pounds of adipose tissue through that door, no matter how much you redistribute it. Do you think I would be stuck in this body if I could shapeshift into something a little less revolting. There's a little something called the conservation of mass-energy, you know. I would never make it.

"Do you think that I wanted to eat Jed Stolzfus' entire herd of Holstein cows with my bare teeth? I couldn't help it. Do you think I want to be a glutton? I have uncontrollable urges. Do you think I made a made a conscious choice to be an amorphous mass of greasy, pulsating lard? No amount of fat-shaming is going to change that." Doberman's eyes became tearful at that point He grabbed both of his hundred pound man-boobs and sensuously moved them and down and round and round.

Ever the optimist, Doberman said in a husky whisper, "Surely, there is someone out there that finds me sexy." he said.

The crowd shrank away from Doberman as he made this offer..

Delilah stepped forward once again. "OK, Doberman," she said. " Let's go over this again. Why are you a writhing mass of pulsating corpulence?"

"The laws of physics and psychopathology, Mistress, and my hunger. I want to eat up the whole world."

"Well, that doesn't sound like an extinction of craving to me. Also, you're filling this entire chamber up with undifferentiated adipose tissue. Many of us can't breathe in here."

"But the laws of physics owe their very existence to you. To your cravings and attachments to material things. What is the First Step to Enlightenment? What should you do?"

"Tell the laws of physics to take a flying fuck at the moon."

"Precisely. Let Alice show you how once again. Get over here Alice."

A shy girl wearing a blue frock a white bib and a mischievous smile stepped forward. She held up a small cake bearing the command "Eat me."

"I don't really need to do it this way, but I can never turn down a cupcake," she said.

"Careful, Alice, or you liable to wind up like Doberman here,." Delilah said.

"Sorry Mistress, I must get better control of my cravings and attachments."

"And what is standing in your way?"

"The laws of physics, Mistress."

"And what are you going to do about the laws of physics?"

"Tell them to take a flying fuck at the moon."

"Right my daughter. And what are you right now?"

"I am a state of compact quantum superposition manifested by an uncollapsed Bose-Einstein quantum overlaid on the Higgs boson field.

"And what do you intend to do?"

"Observe myself , Mistress," Alice said. She held up her cupcake. "I don't really need this. It's just a crutch really." Alice said and downed the cake in one bite.

A MIDWINTER NIGHT'S DREAM

Alice immediately lost all form, becoming an amorphous black cloud. She reached for Doberman's hand and when she took it, the mist flowed up his arm and into his body, melding them into a single cloud of black quantum indeterminacy. She poured both Doberman and herself under the door to the banquet chamber, where the Seven Gays of Christmas festival was about to begin.

When they rematerialized inside the banquet hall, there was an audible pop, and dishes and drinking glasses flew everywhere.

"What the fuck was that?" someone asked. Four of the prospective diners moved the banquet table into a diagonal position, making it possible for Doberman to occupy a position in the corner of the room, which he filled completely.

"How the fuck did you even get in here?" someone asked.

"We had to resort to quantum tunneling," Alice said, clutching her physics book in her hand in lieu of a cake. "But here we are.".

The actual door opened, and in strode Delilah, John Shaftsman, and Brigadoon's entire library staff.

They did not take up the chairs at the actual banquet table, but had to stand to watch the upcoming ceremony.

"OK, boys and girls, here are the honored guests OF THE EVENING," Delilah said in her best boxing announcer voice. "Lets have a big hand for THE TWELVE GAYS OF CHRISTMAS."

In walked twelve unmistakably gay individuals, most of them FABULOUS young men in tuxedos with crisply parted hair. "OK, my buck-naked Fancy friend," Delilah said, "hop right up here on the table."

John climbed up to take seat on the banquet table, sitting down on a few of the more popular Smorgasbord items. He looked over at Doberman, "Hang in there sport. This wait must be torture for you.

Doberman smiled and gave John a thumps-up sign. This brave gesture was unfortunately unseen because it fell between two of Doberman's more egregious rolls of fat.

Delilah cupped the back of John Shaftsman's head and told him to lie back slowly and stretch out his naked body. He did so admirably if not impossibly. His body was now stretched over the entire length of the table. He saw that he now had twelve cocks, as befitting his surname.

Each of the Twelve Gays took up a position directly in front of one of John's twelve cocks. "Atten-hut!" Delilah barked in her best drill sergeant voice. Each of the Twelve Gays' cocks snapped to full ramming mode. The Twelve Gays of Christmas began to slather condiments ranging from liverwurst to horseradish over each of the Twelve Gays' joysticks.

The one called Onan raised his head, and said "I can't get mine to work, Mistress."

"Anyone one else?

All of the disciples paired with the "fabulous" young gay men, the gleaming teeth and professionally coifed hair raised their hands.

"This has never happened to me before," Shaftsman told the red-haired mistress of ceremonies.

"A little performance anxiety would be expected, in such a novel format as a thirteen-way blow job."

"No that's not it. I have done plenty of thirteen-ways before."

"So what's the problem?"

"Homey don't swing that way, Mistress."

"What about you, Big Bertha?" Delilah asked the disciple wearing the high leather boots, a Marlon Brando-style motorcycle hat , and a jumbo, industrial-size Victoria's Secret leather bra, which was fighting a loosing battle tying to contain her M-cup gazongas, and slapping her own palm with a multi-tailed riding crop.

"Mine's hard as a rock, Mistress," Bertha reported.

"I think I see the problem here," Delilah said. "Clap if you believe in fairies," she yelled, which evoked a thunderous round of applause from the assembled paraphilics in the banquet hall. . Soon she spotted Tinkerbell, the fairy from Peter Pan and an honorary mascot of gay people everywhere, who happened to be flying around in the rafters.

Delilah called to her, "Hey, Tink, How about a little help here?"

Tinkerbell soared around the banquet table and sprinkled pixie dust over the assembled celebrants, who immediately took upon the forms of various big breasted bull dikes, BBWs, dominatrices, and even the highly-cleavaged Elvira, the late night horror show host known as "Mistress of the Dark."

All twelve of John's johnsons immediately became as hard as a rock.

"OK, ladies and pseudo-ladies, start your engines. OK, go!"

All of the twelve of participants impaled their heads on their assigned cocks and proceed to bob up and down on their entire lengths, deep-throating each and every one of them, eating them faster than Takeru Kobayashi could go through a stack of 70 Nathan's hot dogs. John had figured that it wouldn't feel any more pleasure getting 12 blow jobs simultaneously that it would to have just one. Boy was he wrong.

Delilah patted John on his shoulder. "How's it going now, Chief. Any more problems?"

John shook his head back and forth vigorously. He gave her two thumbs up faster than Roger Ebert reviewing "Driving Miss Daisy."

Then the Seven Gays of Christmas each squeezed their assigned pairs of balls, and John's shafts erupted like Vesuvius on an angry day.

His sperm Niagara burst right through the tops of the heads of the Twelve Gays, and the banquet hall was filled by a rainbow sea of flying, pulsating jelly fish, again bearing a strong resemblance to the panopyra, the flying entities that approved Jake Sulli's immigration to Pandora in the film "Avatar."

John Shaftsman put his hand over his eyes to black out the blinding brilliance of the panopyra. " What the fuck are those things?" he asked his Mistress with flaming red hair.

"Those are our gametes, silly," Delilah told him, "just like the dandelion spores they resemble, but with the exception that they carry your entire genome. They also carry the entire genome of each of the Seven Gays of Christmas, wound around your genes in a quadruple rather than a double helix. So don't worry. Its not exactly the end of the human race, although it is approximately that. The inheritors of this world will probably not be the meek, instead they would will be a hybrid of humans and Na'vi."

"I thought the Na'vi were a fictional race."

"Oops, I probably shouldn't have said that. I meant humans and aliens. But it's OK. Jim Cameron keeps it on the down low for the most part."

Jake watched the panopyra as they swam out of the skylights. "Where are they going?" he asked.

"Like. I just told you, To inherit the world ," Delilah said.

"Jeez, maybe I shouldn't have done that," John said.

"Done what?" his scarlet-haired muse said.

"Extinguish the human race or for a couple minutes of 13-way poontang with aliens."

Delilah popped the bubble gum that had somehow materialized in her mouth. "Don't sweat the small stuff, sweetie," she said, patting him on the arm. " There are trillions of sentient races, and at least a googolplex of worlds in the multiverse."

"Well that cheers me up a little," John said.

"I know just what you need," Delilah said. "Road trip!"

Three or four of the pseudo-Amish began to chant in unison. "Road trip! Road trip! Road trip!"

CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE PARAPHILIC KIND

"I think they like the idea, Shaftsman," Delilah said. "You've passed the initiation of the Twelve Gays of Christmas, now it is time for you to do a little community outreach."

"Outreach?" John said.

"You know, recruiting new plebes from the Fancies, just like I did with you."

Delilah tossed him a set of keys.

"What are these.?"

"The keys to the saucer, silly. Go ahead and press the power button."

Shaftsman did just that, and the ground began to tremble. The flying saucer emerged from its loose gravel grave and took up a position hovering ten feet over them.

"Holy shit!" Shaftsman said. He rattled the keys and tossed them back to his muse, who refused them and tossed them right back to Shaftsman. "You're driving, chief," she told him.

"But I don't how to drive a flying saucer," he protested.

"Sure you do, sport. It's buried deep in your racial memory. It's just like riding a bike. In the movie ET, it is exactly like riding a bike. Once you learn, you never forget."

"But what about the airlocks?"

"C'mon John, grow a pair."

"But I never drove a flying saucer before," John said. What if I crash it?"

"No problemo, amigo. We got AAA, GPS, the works."

"What about the Idaho license plate on the back? Are we registering flying saucers now?

"Absolute a mundo. We always obey the laws and regulations of the Fancies. Plus, our octopus disguise genes are awesome. When they look at the saucer, All they will see is a GMC flatbed truck.

"Yeah, but what happens if somebody remembers that no one actually lives in Idaho?"

"We got that covered already. False memories.".

"By the way, here's your learner's permit, in case we get pulled over." He saw a lone figure striding toward them. Dirty Jake Stolzfus.

"C'mon. I'm late for a very important date," Dirty Jake said, motioning with his arm for John to climb aboard the saucer, which was hovering ten feet above ground level. John ascended the ladder and found himself in a sterile white room, surrounded by flashing lights, with Dirty Jake right on his heels.

Shaftsman took look around him at the crew of the saucer, all of whom appeared to be standard issue grays, with mushrooming gray heads balanced on a fragile necks and with huge black pupil-less eyes. They seemed to be evaluating him the way that he would assess a T-bone steak

"Good disguise," Dirty Jake said.

Shaftsman looked down and saw that he too was wearing the body of a gray.

"Don't worry about it," Dirty Jake told him. "You don't have to disguise yourself. It just happens, just like a mimic octopus that can take on any disguise without even trying. That's why the first terrestrials we mated with were Octopi."

"Why are you late for a very important date?"

"Oh, I'm just worried about making it to Bitsy Stolzfus' 2 PM abduction appointment on time."

"You fucking make appointments for abductions?"

"Damn right. There are a lot of bored housewives here in Brigadoon, sport," Dirty Jake told Shaftsman, "and I am sick and tired of carrying the whole load my myself. These horny broads are an important part of our revenue stream and someone has to satisfy their twisted needs.

"I guess that's why they call you Dirty Jake." John Shaftsman observed. You have to perform every dirty, twisted, and heinous sexual act desired by any of these horny crones. But you are such a stud. I could never take your place."

"Did you get a load of the women here in Brigadoon, slick? There's a torrent of cooze juice gushing out of each of their wherevers. They are ready for you, them a want you, them a need you, them a love you with all of their hea-hea-hearts."

"OK Let's get going," Dirty Jake said. "Time's a wasting. We're already two minutes late for Bitsy Stolzfus' abduction. OK ,here we are.

Dirty Jake brought the saucer to a hovering position directly over brightly lit Hospital for Mental Deviants in Perversion, Pennsylvania.

"Here we are, my Fancy friends," Jake said. "Welcome to Pennsylvania Dutch country on steroids." He put the saucer right down into the line for the drive-though pickup window.

He pulled the saucer up to the telecom mic. A sultry voice said, "Hello and welcome to the Hospital for Mental Deviants. How may I help you? Press 1 for a truly twisted sexual experience. Press 2 for a nutcase drop off. Press 3 for a patient visit. Press 4 for..."