Beacon Of Love 06 La Petite Mort

6: La Petite Mort

Skipper retreated to the lavatory, and Jacques went to fetch a couple of armless chairs from the kitchen, dragging them into the lighthouse silo and lining them up face-to-face at the end of the table. He placed the folded blankets from the floor onto the combined seat of the two chairs, the backs of which were like side-railings now. He slipped a rope bracelet onto my right wrist, just like the one he'd given Skipper. He pulled it snug, tied it off, cut the ends and burned them together so I couldn't take it off. It was tight enough to stay put, while the silver chain Skipper had given me danced loosely around it. I still wear them both as of this writing.

"Now we're all equal partners," Jacques gestured to his own identical sailor's bracelet. "Now kneel down and suck my cock."

"Oui oui, Capitaine!"

He put his pierced, uncut Canadian cock in my mouth, grabbed my head and started thrusting. I wasn't blowing him; he was face-fucking me. His frenum ring slid down my tongue and into my throat. I gagged on it, having never sucked cock or been manhandled this way before. God, the depravity of being used was just such a turn-on! I liked choking on his cock, maybe because it was too much to handle. Little did I know, the throat is the fifth chakra, Vishuddha, representing of all things purification. I started gagging on Jacques' dick and he stopped.

"Your emasculation is almost complete," he told me, still holding my hair, as if he might face-fuck me again at a moment's notice. "But you have one more choice to make first."

"What is it, Capitaine?" I gasped for air. "I'll do whatever you want."

"What do you want to rise from the ashes of your masculinity: the phoenix, or the lotus?"

"I don't know," I answered. "Both speak to me in their own way."

"You must choose."

"I'll take..." I thought as hard as I could through the candy flip, but all I could conjure was Skipper's sweet, sweet ass. The phoenix on her pussy was enchanting, but it wasn't the same. I was obsessed. I had to have it. "The lotus!" I declared.

"Bien," he replied, I think a little surprised. "Kneel on these chairs and bend over the table."

"Oui oui, Capitaine!" I hopped onto the chairs, knelt down on the blankets and bent over the table, where Jacques put some pillows for me to get comfortable. I could tell what he was setting me up for--my ass protruded at the perfect height for him to have his way with me standing up--alas, I was done resisting. The cocktail of drugs had totally liberated me! Next came a quick, cool spray over my ass, then some transfer paper right over my kundalini chakra. I knew it must be a lotus, just like Skipper's.

"Funny," I quipped. "Here I thought you were about to fuck me!"

"Oh, I am!" Jacques exclaimed. "Do you trust me now?"

"Yes," I giggled with ecstasy. "I mean oui oui, Capitaine."

Next thing I knew, Jacques' tongue was up my ass. Thank God I hadn't eaten since those breakfast pancakes. This was my very first rimjob, something I never thought I'd do my whole life! Of course it was fucking magical. I'm so glad Jacques left it a trusting surprise--otherwise I might have said no!

After that, Jacques took his pulsing cock into his hand, still covered in Skipper's titty blood, and poured lube all over my crack. He started humping it just as he had her cleavage. I was in for it now! "Enough foreplay," he declared. "Do you want it?"

"Oui oui, Capitaine!"

"Blow some poppers now."

"Oui oui, Capitaine!" I took a good thirty second pull, getting both nostrils in for good measure. I capped the bottle and put it back on the table.

"Bienvenue to the rest of your life!"

Penetration--I couldn't believe I'd forgotten about his cock ring! That was the first thing I noticed inside of my ass. It was metal gliding through a mess of tight flesh. The head of Jacques' penis alone, without any skin or shaft, was enough to stretch out my tight little hole. Jacques used his foreskin to anchor himself and thrust in further, pushing his shaft deeper than I thought my ass even went.

I wasn't ready, poppers be damned. It all happened so fast. My mind started to short circuit. The barrier between pleasure and pain was giving way to a newfound subjectivity. Perhaps I have the power to choose how I experience this. Submission is rational. "Submission is rational. Submission is rational," I chanted as Jacques took my virginity out the backdoor. I never thought it would end this way. All this time, and I'd still never had intercourse with a woman. Now I was a faggot, through and through. I like it this way. I submit.

I closed my eyes while Jacques fucked me and saw the lotus in my mind's eye, alive in color just as if it were before me. It danced and twirled, teasing me. "Don't say no," Skipper whispered in my ear.

"Aye aye, Skipper."

That's when she fired up the tattoo gun. She held it up close to my head so I could hear it buzzing right in my ear. I wasn't ready for a truly permanent body modification. No way I could let that happen. Not a tramp stamp. I could've just said no and taken it off the table, like I did with anymore piercings. Skipper would've backed down. But I couldn't say no. I left it in limbo, not saying no, but not saying yes either.

"Do it!" Jacques encouraged me, slowing down his fuck to a smooth gentle pump so that Skipper could tattoo my lower back cleanly. "Just say yes for a moment and you'll be free forever! Once you're inked, you're committed!"

"Let go!" Skipper enjoined. "Let your lotus blossom like mine! It'll go great with your girly belly ring!"

Jacques picked it up to a jackhammer pace, totally annihilating my virgin anal cunt. I bit the pillow in overwhelming ecstasy. "Aye aye, Skipper!" I shouted into the muffled pillow with my last oxygenated breath.

Jacques slowed down and Skipper leaned in with the needle. The die was cast. I felt the ink prick my skin, and I was committed. I cried. I was in terrible pain and my ego was dead, yet somehow these were tears of joy. The needle ripped through me with pleasure. I chose to experience it that way. It was sensational! Fuck masculinity. I'm a blossoming lotus now! I'm free. Really, finally free.

The candy flip must've really warped my sense of time. It felt like almost an hour Skipper must've spent tattooing me. Jacques never went soft for a second. He kept slow-pumping me the whole time. It felt amazing, of course. I went through many head-spaces during that tattoo: the what have I done, the what will people say, the what about when I get old. But mostly, I felt humble gratitude. Gratitude that I was fortunate enough to have this amazing experience. Thank you, God. I submit.

"All done!" Skipper chirped. "Look at you now! That's the hardest you've been all night by far!" I'd totally forgotten about my own dick, but Skipper was right. I was rock solid. "Hey, don't I owe you a shag?" How could I possibly have forgotten!?

Skipper lay down on the table before me, over which I'd been bent over throughout the tattoo. I was still kneeling on chairs with Jacques pumping me slowly. Skipper blew some poppers, gave me some, kissed me, then slid down onto my dick. Finally, I was in. I was fucking Skipper! And getting sodomized while I did it! I synchronized my own locomotion to Jacques', letting him set the pace. We started out slow. It took some getting used to, the mechanics of this such a three-way being far easier said than done.

Alas, we eventually found a rhythm that worked for all three of us. Skipper was close enough to kiss me; she gave me more poppers. That's when the out-of-body experience began. It started as a black dot, right between my eyes, eclipsing an indigo corona of un-light. It appeared in the external world, yet it wasn't a material object. It was something else from somewhere else. I had awakened my sixth chakra, the third eye.

Between fucking Skipper in front of me and getting fucked by Jacques from behind, I was finally able to experience the feeling of being an energy conduit. On Jacques' side, the shakti flowed from kundalini, up the chakras of my spine, through my belly ring and into my head. From the other side, I was feeling like Shiva. That masculine energy from fucking Skipper flowed up the other side, starting from my cock.

These convergent energies combined to give me a glimpse of something greater than the sum of their parts. You know how gravity is really the curvature of time? Or how we can draw the three-dimensional shadow of a four-dimensional object, but not the four-dimensional object itself? Well, the sensation was something like that.

Perhaps the black dot was a dimensional shadow of absolute truth. Perhaps it was a beacon lighting my way through the stormy abyss. Perhaps it was not of this world. In that moment, I stared into the black hole between my very eyes and considered it a piercing in the fabric of reality itself, an asymptote into the next dimension of consciousness. Finally, I had found the exit. Dare I explore it? Of course I would. Its "gravity", whatever higher dimensional perspective might explain said "force", attracted my sentience to the point of spaghettification. I transcended the event horizon and became one with the singularity.

Here I was, blasting through the cosmos, completely liberated from my fleshy vehicle! What was this higher consciousness to which I had connected!? Was this true knowledge? Or was the observer necessarily part of the observation, rendering subjectivity itself the only absolute? What if life is a game? What's the point of it all? I aligned all my chakras and opened my mind to receive the answer.

Soon, a multi-armed pantheon of French post-existentialists zapped in like the cenobites in Hellraiser, swirling around my third eye like a vortex. "The blindness that opens the eye is not the one that darkens vision. Tears and not sight are the essence of the eye," opined Derrida.

"We are our choices," Sartre enjoined, smoking a pipe in all six arms.

"Life is a sum of all your choices," Camus explained. "So, what are you doing today?"

"Change your life today," Beauvoir preached. "Don't gamble on the future, act now, without delay!"

"You should probably get tested after this," advised Foucault.

But I focused in further, past the knowledge that was already in my head and into a world of forms and ideas known to me only through Platonic anamnesis. I opened my mind to receive external transmissions. I became a conduit through which true knowledge could enter the world.

The asymptote was God. I didn't know what else to call it. I was equipped with neither Skipper's eastern perspective, nor Jacques' academic perspective, leaving me only with the vocabulary I'd grown up with to describe this ethereal lighthouse keeper. I suppose technically we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively, alas this revelation is what most people call God. Not a dude with a beard in a robe, of course, some mythological character with a bad temper; more like the impersonal sum total of all sentience and intention in the world. Whatever it is, it's real, it's powerful, and it wants us to say yes to love. It's simple, actually. We say yes to love, and God rewards us. A basic covenant. I understand. Thank you, God.

"I love you!" I declared, thrusting my love into Skipper.

"I love you!" Skipper declared, receiving my love.

"Je vous aime!" Jacques declared, thrusting his love aggressively enough to finish us all. It was just like the end of FLCL.

Simultaneous release! Finally, we had activated the seventh chakra, Sahasrara. This was the crown of pure consciousness, neither objective nor subjective, female nor male. It was a glimpse behind the curtain into true knowledge, and there was God looking right back in the mirror. I had no further questions. It was beautiful.

Which God, you ask? Evidently Zeus. I suppose it was all of our piercings that attracted the lightning. I couldn't tell you exactly which barbell in our three-body flesh pile got struck. To be sure, the electric current got around to them all in a flash. In that moment, everything was divine. Skipper's ears, nose, tongue, nipples, navel and clit, my ears and navel, Jacques' stretched ears, nipples and cock. All I know is that we all came, and it was profoundly satisfying. Yes, God! Yes, God! Yes.