To Dwell in Whiteness

I wandered about lost as always. My steps did have slightly more pur-
pose than before...a bit more confidence. I knew that the real world
didn't last forever. Why it existed and why I had to explore it was
a complete mystery; my entire life had become a mystery and I couldn't
even recall most of my past. I was Son, the boy who knew virtually
nothing about himself except that he was prepared to kill anything that
got in his way. It was an odd, unsettling kind of life to be sure.

I turned this way and that, I doubted it made a difference. I wondered
if other boys had been put through this white hell before me. What
had happened to the boys I might have played with at my father's house?
Surely there had been some. What had their names been? What were
the names of my three sisters. At least I knew there were three of
them now...unless Sonya had lied, a distinct possibilty. I suddenly
stopped dead in my tracks. The girls I had seen in my dream during
my previous ill-fated excursion into the real world; could their faces
have been those of my real sisters? Yes, I believe that those were
my sisters. Regardless, I choose to think so.

Abruptly my musing on this subject was rudely interrupted by a faint
but very distinct sound...growling. A wild beast? I trembled and
squeezed my weapon. I had somewhat steeled myself to face any human
or semi-human creature, but a beast? Sonya's box, the one with the
circus had many savage and exotic creatures on display. Were there
lions in the real world, tigers, massive rhinos or fierce baboons?

My breath became ragged and I turned to walk quickly back in the di-
rection towards where I'd been. Perhaps it would be best to avoid
this wild beast, although I doubted seriously that it was even possible.
I was going to try however. Fear grasped my heart and sent it to beat-
ing wildly. No matter which way I turned or how fast I walked, the
maddening roar of the intruder only grew louder and seemingly nearer.

Then I saw it and I felt the blood drain from my face. Horrified, I
found myself confronting a monster in the truest sense of the term.
It was substantially larger than me though perhaps not quite the size
of most full grown men. It was very hairy, like a shaggy dog or bear.
The thing glowered at me with tiny red eyes as disgusting drool drip-
ped from its mouth; a mouth filled with fangs, not teeth. Its hands,
or paws, were tipped by claws. The thing stood almost fully erect but
leaned significantly forward as if it was in the process of stooping.

The growling became a low rumbling as it tilted its head to first one
side then the other. I squeezed my club, which now seemed terribly
inadequate, until my knuckles turned whiter than the walls. "Are you
the fool they call Son?" it asked. This abomination could speak!

"I am Son," I barely managed to whisper.

"Are you ready to die then?" the monster asked.

"Are you?" I answered, astonished at the degree of my own false bravado.

The hairy being emitted such an ear shattering screech that for a split
second I froze, my eyes clearly displaying my fear. It suddenly drop-
down onto all fours and charged me...screaming like a banshee!

I raised my weapon, poised to strike, but there was no time. I was
knocked off my feet and the hairy beast wasted no time sinking its long
fangs deep into my upper thigh. I screamed in agony and fear. Worse
of all, my club had slipped from my hands. In horror I witnessed the
beast as it began to shake and twist its head as to rip a mouthful of
my flesh away from my agonized body. I struck it repeatedly with my
fists but this accomplished absolutely nothing. With few options left,
I tried something desperate. I slammed both my open palms forcefully
as I could against the thing's large ears. Something in my brain re-
membered somehow that ear drums were easily damaged, and this was an
especially good way to cause damage. It worked.

It released me and howled, this time with pain. As it rose and placed
its paws over the offended ears, I struck out with my foot and kicked
the hairy abomination off me. Waves of nausea and pain assailed me
but I managed to stand on my good leg, club in hand. I rained blows
rapidly against the creature's head but could not crack its thick
skull. The blows did have an effect though. It counter-attacked with
a sweeping swipe of deadly claw that ripped though the tissue of the
knee on my good leg. I fell again and my enemy leaped atop me, going
for my throat. With both hands on my club, I braced it against the
monster's throat and forced its head back. Those horrible fangs meant
certain death should they reach the tender flesh of my throat.

Somehow I managed to pin the thing's head back against the wall. It
shrieked and spat but I held it fast momentarily, thanks to the press-
ure I kept upon my metal club. This was something of a stalemate but
I was bleeding badly and weakening quickly. I could hold it off but
not forever. And it was fighting back, both clawed hands sank deep
into my biceps. I was as good as dead and hurting like mad.

I glimpsed something previously unnoticed at that critical moment. The
thing wore a thin belt with a scabbard. A primitive wooden handle
protruded from the scabbard. Could it be a knife? I released my right
hand from its death grip on the club long enough to grope for the wood-
en handle. Indeed it was a knife although I barely had time for a pro-
per inspection before deadly fangs tore into the flesh of my right
side. I felt skin being separated from my ribs. Ignoring the shock
my body was undergoing, I struck with the knife...again and again and
again. The red blade flashed in my hand at least thirty or more times
before I began to sense a lessening of resistance. Then the thing was
still. I pushed it off me and stared at the razor sharpe blade in my
head. "What a magnificent thing to kill with," I mumbled to myself.
Then I passed out.

As I suspected might happen, I woke in the waking room. I felt rested
and well. There was food there, and to my amazement...purple drink.
There was one other thing there...the knife, still coated in blood and
hair.


Days later I found Sonya's room again. I entered with my new weapon
and a soul completed transformed. I had no idea what I'd become ex-
actly but I was certainly no child. How could that be remotely possi-
ble after a long outing in the real world?

Thus began the pattern that was my life. For each extended stay with
Sonya, usually lasting days, sometimes weeks, there followed a sojourn
into the twisting white hallways of terror and killing. I faced a
seemingly never ending horde of vicious half-men or whole monsters.
Sometimes I won but other times I lost. Always there was pain. The
knife gave me an advantage but my opponents had weapons too. Each
encounter was a fight to the death, a blood splattered game of survival.

Win, lose or draw I would find myself back in the waking room or stag-
gering into the comforting confines of Sonya's benevolent and tender
care. As much as I began to hate my life, It was also true I endured
with increasing stoic indifference. I grew older and larger, and Sonya
gradually became somewhat less a mother and more...something else.
She talked to me, encouraged me, soothed me, and inspired me. Our re-
lationship changed but it was a subtle change I did not fully under-
stand.

One day I noticed a strange new box upon returning to Sonya's room from
an especially harrowing foray into the real world. My eyes widened
as I witnessed my first strip tease, then another and another. That
day I masturbated for the first time. I drank the purple drink and
yanked my organ until I collapsed. I fell into a blissful sleep with
the sound of Sonya's soulful singing echoing in my weary brain. No
longer did I allow myself to wonder about events...I lived one day at
a time, content that some were far better than others. The mystery of
my life was less a mystery and had simply become my life...bizzare tho
it surely was.

Shortly after that day Sonya and I engaged in a conversation perhaps
more meaningful than usual.

"You seem to enjoy your new box more than any other. I've noticed you
ignore all save that one."

"Yes," I replied. "Does this seem odd to you. I enjoy looking at the
women there. Their bodies are beautiful."

"You spend considerable time masturbating," she said after a matter of
fact fashion.

"Is that what's its called. A strange name to be sure...but all is
strange I have decided." I drank of the purple drink and smiled, at
Sonya I suppose, of course I could not see her.

"You are maturing physically, that is why you enjoy that particular
box. That is what I believe," Sonya continued.

I smiled at...empty space; or was it myself? "The costumes those girls
wear are garish and colorful. I like them."

"But when they take them off, you enjoy it even more?"

"Yes, their bodies...I find them...interesting. The sight of them
makes my privates grow. Its almost like it demands attention."

"And stimulation, obviously," Sonya observed.

I shrugged, growing bored with the conversation, "at first it all was
rather odd to me but now I quite like it thank you very much. Do you
always watch me do that?"

"Yes, always," Sonya replied.

"Why, don't you have better things to do with your time?"

"I have plenty of time to do whatever I wish, so I choose to watch you
play with yourself."

"Play with myself? What a funny description."

"Often it is preferred rather than the term masturbation. The word
masturbation is perhaps overly scientific to suit some." Sonya seem-
ed genuinely interested in my recent, new found activity. This was
somewhat puzzling to me.

"I want you to read something to me please. Read me something with
vivid descriptions of beautiful girls and the boys that watch them
when they're naked so hey can play with themselves later."

"Very well, if it pleases you I will do just that my Son. I sincerely
hope it helps you unwind. I worry about the tension I sense in your
body these days."

A few months later I was sitting at my little table and writing in my
notebook. The stories that Sonya had read me were what she called
tales of eroticism. I found them very interesting but decided to try
writing some of my own. Sonya had said that she'd enjoyed my first
one very much indeed and that I should write another for her. It seem-
ed like a good idea and I went to work. At least it took my mind off
the next inevitable trip to the real world. I was weary of thinking up
new and better ways to kill.

"How is your story progressing?" Sonya asked. Her voice would simply
"appear" like that.

"I have some good ideas that I think you will enjoy," I replied. "The
mere act of writing these things down has made my organ swell. Would
you like to see it."

"I would," Sonya said...her voice oddly flat.

With considerable pride I slipped my trousers down and freed my full
blown erection.

"I can see that you are having a good time. I eagerly await the time
when your new tale is finished. I am very curious to learn about your
sexual fantasies."

With difficulty I put my erection away and returned to my chair.

"Today is a very special day Son, it is your fifteenth birthday."

"Oh," I answered. "I suspected that another birthday was just around
the corner. I'm sure you will reward me with another trip...out there?"

"Oh no," Sonya replied, a surprising hint of anxiety in her voice. I
knew she claimed that sending me out there was something she hated. On
the other hand, she might well have been lying. I brushed that thought
away...it was pointless. I had no control over matters anyhow.

"Son."

"Yes," I said, not bothering to look up from my writing. I needed to
focus and wished she'd go away.

"I have a special surprise that I think will please you very much. I
wanted to give you this for your birthday...this particular bithday."

This piqued my attention. I was still young enough to enjoy something
new and different...as long as it was pleasant. I glanced up for some
reason, it wasn't like I would actually be able to see Sonya bringing
me her surprise, but I looked anyhow.

There was a box there, but it wasn't small. It was large and had a
purple curtain in the front. I didn't have any idea of what to make
of this object.

"Is this the surprise?" I asked. "What is it?"

"This is your surprise," I was perplexed to discover that Sonya's
voice seemed to come from inside the large box. "Are you in there?"
I asked, my voice dropping. Could I dare to hope?

In typical Sonya fashion she answered, "I am and am not...would you
like to see me then?"

"Of course, what else do I have to do?"

"Your story?"

"Now you're teasing me Sonya, if you are really there show yourself.
And don't make me angry with some trick. I might strike out into the
real world and never return...how would you like that."

The purple curtain began to part. The voice on the other side said,
"I would not like that at all Son."

Of all the shocks I had received since leaving the house of my father,
the one that followed was easily the greatest. The curtain parted
and a woman stepped out of the box. Not just a woman, the most perfect
woman that ever existed. Her hair was long and jet black. Her eyes
were amazingly violet and her lips were full and pink. Did I say that
she was naked? She was and her body was magnificent. The girls from
the strip tease show would have covered their lithe limbs from sheer
dread of being held to the impossible standard of loveliness this rare
flower possessed. And her...her breasts...my mouth dropped open and
my eyes could not have grown wider. They were large and pendulous,
spectacular broad aereolas were crowed with plump erect nipples. I
stood in awe of this woman, this goddess.

My eyes continued to drink deeply of this achingly exquisite figure.
Her slender shoulders and long neck, her strong and flawless thighs...
and the thick black hairy triangle between her legs, just below her
naval mesmerized and fascianted me. I wanted to smell it, taste it!

"Is that you Sonya?" I finally managed to stammer.

"It is and it is not...do you find me pleasing? Do I arouse you? If
you would Son, lower your trousers. I would like to see if the sight
of me excites you. I am hopeful that I do...very hopeful."

I did as she requested and rather quickly as you might imagine. An
unexpected clumsiness seized me but within a moment my erection stood
out long and jerking itself up and down like a pony on parade.

"Why don't you play with yourself. I would enjoy that very much my
dear sweet Son."

I proceeded to do as she asked and it felt better than it had ever felt
at any time before. The sensations that pulsed down my cock made me
groan and my legs quivered. Sonya came closer to watch. Then her
tongue made a circle around her beautiful lips, wetting them ever so
slightly. "I want to help you do it," she said.

My hand was replaced by hers and I feared I might pass out. She worked
the shaft back and forth slowly as I gasped for air. "Touch me," she
demanded. I needed no second prompting. Both my hands went to her
breasts and fondled the incredibly soft but pliant flesh they found
there. I squeezed and lifted, gently pinched and pulled. No words
could possibly accurately describe the deep emotions of happiness that
I experienced at that moment. Three or four minutes of pleasure passed
when suddenly I felt contractions in my thighs and scrotum. I moaned
loudly as a powerful electricity swept over me and I ejaculated a huge
load of thick creamy sperm in Sonya's hand, on her stomach and thighs,
and even a some that struck her breasts. They jiggled in response
as the girl curiously inspected the warm liquid that covered much of
her fine body.

"This is all so interesting," she remarked. "Shall we go to your mat,
relax and continue. I feel it will be beneficial for both of us."

"I am your slave Sonya," was all I could reply. It was spoken truly.



to be continued, I guess its really up to the readers, isn't it?