Cycle 22: Polygenesis: The P-Principle

The Collector: Prelude to a Requiem

The Rite of Spring was first. And the last? What unintended requiem?















Once upon a Twotimer (or For the Love of Story)

Because her husband had no interest in playing his part in her story, she bore another son. And she read him a thousand and one stories before he spoke his first word. (Love too is a story; her stories, motherlove.) So he became a writer, but not of stories. His perverse passions resisted narration – they were not for a mother’s ears.

Voluminous Loves

Dramatis Personae

The White Bull: A pedophile with no eyes for any boy over thirteen.
Pasiphaë: A thirty-year-old love-lover addicted to convoluted loves.
Daedalus: Manyfaced desire, mazemaker, wingweaver.
The Minotaur: Amor vorax.

It was folly to fall for a pedophile, but like Pasiphaë panting after the White Bull, he couldn’t help it. So he fashioned a horny bullock out of words, and he hid in it. But the cagey bull didn’t fall for that old trick. Thwarted, his writhing desire turned in, in, in, twisted this way and that, tracing a voluminous labyrinth, trapping him in a mazy monument to yet another Minotaur, yet another impossible love.















An Aetiology of Pediphilia

Other eyes made his penis shy. (No wonder he envied lesbians.) His dick’s mortifying ups-and-downs made him appreciate his stalwart feet – they never left him in the lurch. When a foot fetishist on his knees was worshipfully sucking his long toes, he could let go – for a few fleeting moments, he could stop watching himself.















Login: VampireVirtuouso
Password: Hyperspider

He was already addicted to his own imagination before the Internet was invented – the Web just wove his polymorphous fantasies with the phantasmatic lusts of shadowy strangers. Haunted phantoms of desire – omnivorous and insatiable – they devoured each other’s fancies, got drunk on each other’s dreams.








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