Subj: Grammar Story -- 29
Date: 8/5/00 2:12:49 PM Central Daylight Time
From: Beverly LaCroix

The panic had subsided somewhat, so he was able to watch his body hanging helplessly on the wall, exposed, vulnerable, and helpless to the will of evil. Something occurred to him that he had not thought of before, the ghost woman was "Death," and had come to claim him. He was dead. Of course, his body seemed lifeless and he was a spirit wandering the world of the living. Maybe if he tried to re-enter his body, he would either resume living or his spirit would be able to rest. Either one was preferable to watching what his nephew would do to his helpless body. Desire coursed through his essence at the thought of Barnabas touching him. Stop it! He screamed at himself. Now, how to get his spirit into his body? He would will himself to his body. Concentrating on the task at hand, he found himself standing beside his body, and it was odd. Something or someone was in his body, he could see it breathing. Well, it would have to go, he thought as he concentrated as hard as he could to enter his body. Ah, success, he thought, and then he felt it. Cold fire shot through his essence throwing him back to the wall of the cell. Arrows of cold fire pinned him to the wall, and all he could do was watch what happened next.

Watching Barnabas walk to his physical form, and he watched in horror as Barnabas took his lifeless cock in his hand, and he felt the desire going through him, and it was torture, because there was nothing he could do but endure the unfulfilled desire. Was this hell for him? The Greek myth of Odysseus when he returned from the Underworld and told what he had seen began to go through his mind, and he couldn't stop it. It was as if he could picture the mythical Odysseus telling his story: "I also saw the awful agonies that Tantalus has to bear. The old man was standing in a pool of water which nearly reached his chin, and his thirst drove him to unceasing efforts; but he could never get a drop to drink. For whenever he stooped in his eagerness to lap the water, it disappeared. The pool was swallowed up, and all he saw at his feet was the dark earth, which some mysterious power had parched. Trees spread their foliage high over the pool and dangle fruits above his head --pear-trees and pomegranates, apple-trees with their glossy burden, sweet figs and luxuriant olives. But whenever the old man tried to grasp them in his hands, the wind would toss them up towards the shadowy clouds."

Only his thirst was different, but yet the same.

He saw Barnabas become enraged, because his physical form was dead to his touch. He saw Maggie at Barnabas' direction take his lifeless cock in her mouth. The sensations became overwhelming to him, and the mythical Tantalus grasping for fruit, and a drop of water became real for him. He was Tantalus, and the torture was neverending. He felt tears begin to form, as he stretched and writhed, humping uselessly to relieve the desire.

Then the pain stopped.