Witness

In view of potholes left by the latest downpour Shaftsman guessed that Delilah's prediction would be prove to be true. She cracked her whip and the team of horses started up. John imagined how her whip would feel on the bare flesh of his back. He grew even harder, if that was even possible. At this point, it could easily be used as a center pole for a raised barn.

John could somehow sense that they were headed into the center of the doughnut hole in reality bounded by the circular mist. He could faintly make out the screams of the cloud wraiths as they rode past them once again.

"Don't worry about them," Delilah said. "They seek only to possess our bodies,"

"But I like my body." Shaftsman protested. "Especially my schwantz. And I know thee likes it too.!"

"Be that as it mayeth, my Fancy man, but the cloud wraiths are only doing their jobs."

"What job is that?" our intrepid hero asked his muse.

"To keep us within the event horizon, silly."

"You mean we're inside a black hole? Oh no. There is no way out of a black hole. What's we gonna doest? What's we gonna doest?"

"Thou meanst, what's thee gonna doest?"

"Me?

"Yes, thou or thee, whatever."

"Well, which is it, thou or thee?"

"As Otter said so cogently in the movie Animal House apropos of majoring in premed and prelaw, 'What's the difference?'"

"I taketh thy point," Shaftsman replied.

"However, there may be a way for thou to geteth home, my Fancy."

"And what would that beist?"

"Has thou not heard of Hawking radiation? That's when black holes regurgitate everything that has fallen into them?"

"Yeah right, it will only take a billion years or so. I can't wait for that."

"Well, time runs a little differently here inside a black hole. So you'll out in no time, or in 13 billion years, depending on your viewpoint.

"Besides, you have already have the means to go home. Just look down."

Shaftsman looked down and saw a pair of red glitter shoes on his feet. He was pretty sure he didn't have them on a few minutes ago. As he started to click his heels a la Dorothy Gale, he noticed that they were not made of rubies but were covered by red sequins, nearly half of which had fallen off. Must be a fake sold on eBay to some credulous dweeb.

"OK, my Fancy, I see thou art not gonna bite on the ruby shoes hoax. That would have marooned thee inside the singularity forever, or for two minutes depending on how thou lookest at it.. Congratulations on passing the first test. The second test lies right over here."

John turned to find the source of the voice. It seemed to emanate from a spot about twenty yards and a little to the right of the buggy.

He saw that the voice came from another Delilah, who was stripped, staked out in a spread eagle position a la Delores Taylor in Billy Jack and was covered with whipped cream. On her abdomen were scrawled the words "Eat Me" in red cream. He quickly looked to his left for the version of Delilah that had been driving the buggy. But the driver's seat was empty. No bilocation. Or at least not yet.

It appeared that the next universe would be based on the writings of Lewis Carroll rather than L. Frank Baum. John wondered if he should pass on door number two in favor of what might be lurking behind door number 3.

Then Delilah's delectable tummy began to undulate like that a skilled wahini performing a hot hula dance welcoming some dweeb tourist from Wisconsin to the Maui tarmac. John could almost feel the lei around his neck. he decided he would not wait for door number three to open. He dove headfirst into the whipped cream paradise of Delilah's muff. He wrapped his arms around her tanned legs and buried his face in the welcoming folds of Delilah's pulsating crack. He plunged his tongue deeply into those folds, tasting the sweetness of her cream.

He placed his hands on the hot gyrating flesh of her abdomen, feeling his boner rising into launch position. He shed his clothes and closed his lips around her hot bud, flicking it every which way but loose with his strong tongue.

Delilah tried to raise her arms to grab his head and press it against her more tightly and to steer it onto her favorite erogenous zones, but was frustrated by the ropes binding her wrists to the stakes. She was able to raise her pelvis and move it back and forth like a golden doodle trying to get its owner to scratch her ass in the right place.

John began to lick his way up her crack and on to her tummy. He put his mitts on her breasts and squeezed them hard as he attempted to lick her abdomen free of cream. His very sophisticated palate told him that he was dealing with Fat Free Reddi-wip, which was a relief. His cardiologist would not have approved of the real thing, unless she herself was doing the licking, as she indeed had on many occasions.

John crushed her hooters in his hands and began to slide them very rapidly around her abdomen and chest. Delilah screamed in both pain and pleasure, her bush now soaked in cum as well as whipped cream.

He then took her right tit in his mouth, sucking it half way l down his throat. He clamped his teeth down, lightly puncturing the skin of her breast as his tongue flicked in and out and over her nipples.

She cried out more or less continually as he gave her left gazonga the same treatment. Her whole body was trembling, begging for release.

"I thought when you eat the cake in Alice Wonderland you were supposed to groweth or shrinketh or something. Everyone in a position to know about my pole has told me I'm a little above average, that's all."

"Speak for thyself, John. What others sayeth is irrelevant . Taketh a gander down there."

John looked down at his dong. It jutted way past his bellybutton and two thirds of the way up his sternum. He could almost give himself a blow job, a talent possessed by even the most lowly of canids and of which Shaftsman had always been profoundly jealous..

"Holy shit!" he said. "I'm King of the World," seconding the self-assessment of Leonardo Dicaprio, on the bow of the Titanic. Of course in view of DeCaprio's ultimate fate in the movie, a more accurate assessment might be King of the Sea, Neptune, or Davy Jones' locker.

John's mega-dong was pulsating with need. He knew that he needed to bury it in the warm, welcoming flesh of Delilah's trembling cooz right away or he would be lost forever. He rammed it deeply within her and she gasped at its force. She tried to wrap her arms around him but was frustrated by the stakes that bound her wrists to the ground. John lowered his mouth to hers. Her hot tongue began to flicker in and out of his mouth, whirling around his own tongue in a desperate search to gain admission into the very center of his being.

He thrust his newly acquired mega-johnson up to the hilt into Delilah's love tunnel. She gasped and her eyes dilated as he hauled back to bury his seemingly still-growing schlong even deeper within her helpless body. He licked the maraschino cherries off her nipples, swallowing them, stem and all.

She struggled against her bonds, but to no avail. Shaftsman gently put his hands on her head to stabilize it, and then he licked the whipped cream off her eyelids, greatly improving her vision. He brought her head to his and licked his way around her soft lips with his tongue. He then thrust said buccal organ deeply within her mouth, moving aside the miniature fleshy speed bag of her dangling uvula to gain access to true depths of her deep, willing throat. Not to be outdone by its lesser twin, Shaftsman's favorite organ and namesake pounded into the deepest recesses of Delilah's snatch.

She gasped and struggled against the rawhide thongs that bound her wrists and ankles, wanting to wrap her arms and legs as around her Fancy paramour as he brutalized her body with his wild thrusts. He was like a Viking berserker now, well past the point of sexual return.

He grabbed her breasts hard as he pounded his way in and out of her helpless body, squeezing them painfully as he fucked her like a rag doll. His hands roamed to hers, still bound to the earth. His tongue roved over the convolutions of her ear, and her whole body shivered in soft compliance. Their souls flew like a pair of hawks into the blackness of the sky, and they were one, together completely as Shaftsman poured his hot seed into the welcoming garden of her womb.

In the afterglow, the rawhide bonds pinning Delilah's wrists and ankles to the ground suddenly dissolved. She climbed into the driver's seat of the buggy, buck naked as the day she was born, assuming she had in fact been born.

She looked down at John and said, "Come on, silly. Climb in and let's get you out of those wet clothes."

"What wet clothes?" Shaftsman asked, but he soon realized that he was in fact clad in the same drenched garb that he had wearing when Delilah had discovered him.

"Where are we going?" he asked his Plain muse.

"Back to Brigadoon, Pennsylvania, of course. It's where I live, my Fancy."

"Aren't you afraid you'll get arrested for indecent exposure?" John asked his supernatural Uber driver.

"Well, we're inside the event horizon, and Brigadoon is also within the singularity. Nobody will raise an eyebrow at one Lady Godiva passing through the 'burbs. A few hundred shlongs will be raised for sure, but no eyebrows, unless you're into raising eyebrows, of course."

"I'm not," John told her., "Well, maybe a little." A rising wanger, like a dog's tail, never lied.

Delilah fiendishly smiled at him.

"Well, maybe a little," he repeated.

MEETING THE INLAWS

"Well, here we are, my humble abode," Delilah told our Fancy protagonist. John looked up at strings of what must surely well over a trillion Christmas light bulbs running up and down every edge of the house. Looking back, he could see a light-up baby Jesus levitating in and out of its manger, and a maniacally laughing Santa Claus that bore more than a passing resemblance to the evil clown in Stephen King's It.

"It looketh like Christmas is very popular here in the singularity." Shaftsman observed.

"Big time," Delilah admitted. "Thou hast no idea. Of course, our clients expect it, and we try to keep them happy."

"I thought thee Plain folk escheweth the use of modern technology,"

He looked around at the cars parked in front of the house. He spotted at least three Escalades, a couple of Audis, and at least one Rolls Royce Ghost. No buggies other than one they had arrived in..

"Actually, I'm the only one Amish person here right now," Delilah said. "Or at least the only one pretending to be Amish."

"Dost that mean we canst stoppeth talking like this,"?

"Oh for sure. Sorry I should have told you that earlier."

"That's a relief. My tongue and jaw are killing me."

"Well we can't have that. Especially when you meet Rebecca Stolzfus. You're gonna need all the tongue and jaw you can muster for that encounter.

"Well where are my manners? You must freezing in those wet clothes. Come on into the library and we'll warm them by the fire." She escorted John into the private library, which was warmed by a towering inferno that blazed in the fireplace. John put out his hands to warm them, while Delilah carefully stripped each piece of drenched fabric from John's shivering body.

She delighted in watching the dance of the flames on John's naked body, as she traced his bulging Thor-like muscles with her razor-sharp red fingernails. John Shaftsman's namesake grew in obeisance to his likely future sadistic mistress. Delilah retrieved a multi-braided cow whip from a fairly large selection of whips mounted on the wall in the animal husbandry section of the library. She lashed it lightly into John's cock and balls. He cried out in pain. "That's nothing yet , my lowly intern," Delilah said as she whipped his genitals again, this time with much more force.

"What did you call me?" John asked his sudden abuser.

"Intern, because that is what you are. I could have called you a lowly worm or a slave or a piece of shit, for you are all of these things. But things will get better, a lot better. I think I will call you rookie, for that is what you are. No wait, let me call you Sweetheart. I'm in love with you.

"From now on, your body is mine, and I will do to it whatever I see fit or whatever pleases me at the moment. And that goes for everybody in the community, as least until you become an Apprentice."

"You mean I'm going to be on Trump's show?"

"No, that ship has sailed, I'm afraid," Delilah told Brigadoon's newest recruit. "We don't do time travel as a rule, Too many fucking contradictions. But we do it occasionally, if the Council approves it in advance."

She whipped him again, hard, although this time his pain was mixed with pleasure. He cried out softly.

"What's to prevent me from just walking out of here?"

"Do you want to walk right out of here, Sweetheart?"

"Not right now."

"It's the pheromones, silly. They're everywhere. What's going to keep you from walking right out of here, as you put it, are the pheromones that pervade this singularity and the intense desires they spawn in you to please us in each and every way that we and your own body desire."

Just then Sarah Stolzfus, the Chief Librarian, peered out from the stacks on Silage Methodology and Baling Techniques. In stereotypical librarian behavior, she lowered the half-spectacled reading glasses on her nose, placed one finger on her lips and said, "Shh. You'll disturb the readers who are flogging aficionadas. They won't be able to concentrate and they will all likely rush over here to join in the flogging fun."

"Mum's the word," John said, placing one finger over his own mouth, as the Chief Librarian rounded the corner of the Animal Husbandry stacks. She had long flowing red hair, not unlike Delilah's. Her breasts bore rosy quarter-sized areolae. Even her thatch was scarlet. He was struck by the fact that she was buck naked.

The librarian tossed her crimson hair over her shoulder. He kept staring at her monumental tits.

She lifted her sensational hooters to better display them to Brigadoon's new plebe.

"Is that your usual librarian outfit?" he asked.

"Oh heavens no. This is casual Friday. We all dress like this on casual Friday. We don't stand on ceremony here in Brigadoon." She looked down at John's engorged root. "Except for the men They'll stand and throb at the feel of a passing breeze. She pointed at John's swollen sperm gun, and said "Case in point, Sweetheart. Case in point."

"I see ," our intrepid hero said.

The librarian looked down, her attention captured by Shaftsman's enormous penis She lifted it. with the riding crop she was holding.

"Oh my!" she said in the voice of the hyper-libidinal George Takei, known as the beloved Ensign Sulu to millions of Star Trek fans. "Lookie here, lookie here, what we gots here?"

"What's up with all riding crops, harnesses and reins?" John asked.

"We do a lot of riding here", Sarah Stolzfus informed her charge, "In particular, we're going to ride you long and hard."

"Can I take him for the first spin?" Sarah Stolzfus asked Delilah Stolzfus "I just gotta have a ride on that mega-schwanz of his while he's still little wild, not like a ride on a broken pony in petting zoo."

Delilah handed Sarah the reins. "Go ahead, knock yourself out, sister."

Sarah walked slowly around John's body and he trembled at each passing, not knowing when she would strike. She ran the riding crop over his balls lightly and then brought the crop down hard on his cock.

"Did you like that, Sweetheart?"

John could not lie. "Yes mistress. May I have another?" he said, his whole body trembling for more.

Sarah tossed her long crimson hair over her naked right shoulder. "Do you want to use me, my horse? Do you want to fuck my brains out? To fuck my helpless body like a rag doll."

"Yes Mistress." John said, his loins trembling at the thought.

"Ok, fasten my belts, girls," Sarah said. "It's going to be a bumpy ride."

Sarah stretched her arms and legs out on the wooden 'X' of Fuck Table #4. Delilah grabbed the overhead mike and said, "Calling all library personnel. There's going to be a ride in the second floor of the Silage stacks. All available library personal should report at once to assist with belting, light discipline, bondage and general malfeasance."

The stacks were immediately filled with the noise of desks tipping over against the wire walls of numerous carrels. An inrush of naked bookworms wearing spectacles and nothing else soon followed.

"OK girls and boys, lets get her strapped in," Delilah said.

The naked staff wasted no time in strapping Sarah's ankles and wrists to Fuck Table #4. While John was secretly hoping for a double sunny side up position, Sarah had positioned herself in the Full Moon Rising asana. Fuck Table #4 resembled a typical physician's examining table with the exception that it was motorized, with gynecological stirrups that could be repositioned at the flick of a switch.

"What are you waiting for, Sweetheart? C'mon. rhino me" Sarah said.

"Rhino you? No sure what that means."

"It means cornhole me like a stallion .my Fancy sweetheart. Ram your cocks into me as like you've never seen a woman before."

Cocks? John wondered. He peeked down his abdomen. Sure enough, there were two of them, raring to go. One of them was Old Faithful, but above that was a smaller one shaped like a coat hook, whose purpose was obvious.

"What are you waiting for, stud?" Sarah asked him. "Plow me like a like a spring field, Baby. Spread your manure all over my naked body like a John Deere. Inject your filth deep within my furrows."

Sarah sensed a loss of rigidity in Old Faithful as well as well as Sweetheart's cornholer.

"Not sure if these agricultural metaphors are working for me," John said by way of explanation . This has never happed to me before."

"No dearie, I don't imagine it has, what with the multiple cocks and all," Delilah observed.

"OK then, would you please shoot your hot seed into my hungry womb?

"Still using the word 'seed'", John pointed out.

"Sorry, shoot your hot jizz into me until it explodes out my eyes and ears."

"Now you're talking my language." John felt both his mega-wanger and his newly discovered colon-raper both grow hard and pulsating with desire. He felt an emptiness that would not go away until both his rhino horns were fully sheathed in Sarah's love tunnels.

"Ram me, baby. Ram me deep, and ram me hard ," Sarah instructed Brigadoon's newest apprentice.

John Shaftsman needed no such encouragement. He hauled off and rammed her hard, per Sarah's directive. He felt her pulsating walls contract and squeeze around both Little Boy and Fat Man,. threatening to reenact their explosions over Nagasaki and Hiroshima at the very least. John now had a new appreciation of the virtues of cornholing in a way that few that anal rapists had ever gained.

Sarah went into full twerk mode, pile driving John's shaft up and down and back and forth in her hot orifices.

"Reach around me, baby. Grab my titties. Crush them in your massive paws. Tear them right off me while you fuck me within an inch of my life."

John rammed into her trapped and helpless body harder and harder and faster and faster. He wiped the sweat from his brow and grabbed an imaginary cowboy hat and circled it over his head. "Yippie yi yo ka yah," he observed.

Delilah scanned the crowd and saw a few raised cell phones, "I hope some of you are streaming this live on U-tube, CNN-XXX, and C-Span 58, she said. That's the source our revenue, people. C'mon, somebody spice this this up," she said.

One of the librarian plebes, the one with the platinum hair, the firm tits, and the tight tawny legs stepped forward and clicked her heels together a la Dorothy Gayle. Her hand shot up her hand in a Nazi style salute (perfect for taking selfies) and said, "Yavolt, mein uber-fuhrer!"