Thia story is fictional, and for a mature audience
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LEAF Continued By: Maze Walker He was haunted with the daymare all night, of what his life had been like somewhere back in time. It was more vivid than any dream had ever been. The next day he got into his Audi and drove back to Woodstock, New York, where he figured he would confront his fears. The town was decorated with gold lights and filled with pre- holiday spirit. He was tempted to stop in a bar with Celtic signs out front, have an Irish Coffee, and then go over to the Alternative Rainbow bookstore, chat with the owner who was very cute, buy a book or two and drive back to the University, forgetting all about this oppressive memory stuff. The air felt chilled as he headed out of town, the same direction that he had taken the day before, he drove into the dirt driveway, frosted at the edges from a recent snow, and walked to the office hoping that someone was home. “Trevor, isn’t it come in, come in. I knew that you would be back. You left your tape recorder here.” “I have a question to ask you is this stuff real, I mean how can you prove it?” “Then let me ask you a question, who was this son you were warning when you came out of your trance yesterday.” “There was no son, I was warning myself.” “I see, that happens a lot you know, people come here wanting to hear that they were a famous person, or had a life where they were happy. Usually it’s not that way at all. Lately I have had a strange coincidence among the people that have choose to come here and ask me to put them back in time.” “What is it?” “They were once eunuchs, some have even described what it felt like to be castrated. you’re very quiet.” “You know then, don’t you. “What should I know, you never talked out loud about your experiences, I wish that you would.” “That is what happened to me, they castrated me.” “Who did?” “The man who bought me.” “I thought from your reactions that something terrifying happened to you.” “Funny, isn’t it, maybe that’s why I always had a fear of getting injured down there, and a strange fascination for all things about eunuchs.” “Do you want me to try and help I can see if we can get you back into that life, and let you re-live your castration. Often when you confront your darkest memories they go away or become easier to life with.” “Ok, I’m willing to try and go back.” “There is no guarantee that you will return to the same life.” “Trevor was starting to see the humor in it all, well how many times can you lose your balls. Maybe this time I will be Napoleon.” “Yes, that true I’ve had a few dozen of him lately. Let’s see there has been 15 Cleopatias, and thousand of Amazon Warriors just joking, are you ready?” “Yes” Once again Trevor got down on the small cot, closed his eyes and tried to relax. In moments he was laying on an inverted wooden plank, the sweet taste in his mouth which was making him groggy. He looked down and he was naked, but it wasn’t his body at all, it was the blond youth, Leaf. His ball sac was tied in a leather strap, taunt but it didn’t hurt perhaps that was because a man was massaging his balls in a circular motion to loosen them up. His penis hardened from the movement below. It was over quickly. A sharp knife ripped into him. Even being drugged he felt some pain. The knife felt like the claws of a cat, then he felt dampness in his groin. One teste were cut away and moved upward so he could see what had been taken out of him. He tried to move away and save the final bit of his manhood, but he had been bound tight, and the drugs made him woozy. So soon the second was removed, and a hot flame was pressed against the sight where he was robbed. He tried to yell out. He was still yelling when he opened his eyes. His penis was tenting, no straining in his jeans, he reached down and made sure that everything was were it was supposed to be. He decided that this was an experience that he never wanted to repeat. He had almost forgotten about it. On Christmas morning he gathered at his friend’s house. “Hey Trev, someone left a gift for you, under the tree.” “Hey, thanks man you shouldn’t have.” “It’s not from me.” He looked at the wrapping paper; it was marbleized with Venetian gold foil. It looked like a book, he opened it up: The Adventures of Leaf, Maybe there will be more? I need to decide if the regenerator should have other patients come in, or Leaf should continue his story, and have other lives. Suggestions are welcome.