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Rain came down in sheets as a dark shadow flittered over a neon sign glowing in the dark. On closer inspection you can see its inscription through the rain: "MUY PICANTE: FOR ALL YOUR ASS-LOVING SENSUAL NEEDS" The dark shape slipped around a corner like a ghost, and moved casually like it means to pass by without a second thought, but then disappears out of the rain into a dimly lit storefront. Inside, the clerks stand up at attention, clearly preturbed. They witness the shape as it enters, rain dripping down the worn but smooth leather, shiny and slicked. A hood obscures the face. Strapped over its back is a well used bass six-string. The figure itself seemed lightly built, and was vaguely male but could have been anything. The figure merely stood there for a moment, ceasing all activity in the store for a moment. Finally it spoke, and it could be told that it was a man. In a hushed English accent, the words came. "Someone called." It seemed a flicker of realization came upon the head clerk's face, and she managed the courage to move forward. She was covered in piercings and had shockingly black hair laced with shockingly deep red highlights, but at this moment seemed weak as a little girl. "It is you," she murmured in a weak voice. "I never thought you would come." "I come where I am needed," he spoke, still hushed and low, almost conspiratorial. "It was hard enough to find your number," she continued. "I checked under 'Male Escorts,' and of course you weren't there. So then I went to 'Chains Whips and Other Toys of the Homoerotic Variety," and nothing there either-" "Really, miss," he interjected, "I have a listing in the residential sect-" "Then I tried 'Bears R Us,' and they never heard of you!!! I mean, really, a man like you who once did over fifteen guys at o-" "That's enough!" the figure hissed, raising his voice for the first time. He stood breathing for a moment, recollected himself. "I know it's a common misconception, but really, it doesn't matter to me. What's the problem?" He then pushed back his hood, and underneath was a head with hair dark and slicked down, longish but not too long, a slightly grizzled looking face and penetrating eyes. She suddenly became distracted, squirming visibly. She was deeply enthralled... "The Masked Manipulator!!! I knew it was you! How I waited for this moment! I've always enjoyed your music, but it seems theres... so much more to admire. Your looks, they're so strikingly manly, and yet... and your voice... it is so powerful, and penetrating, like a deep note from that guitar on your back, but yet, I know it could never be, since, you know, you love gigantic black co-" "What is the problem, please?" he prodded, visibly annoyed. "And please, they're all lies. In fact, I would take you now if you'd only-" "Oh, that's silly, you never would do such a silly and non-homoerotic thing! I don't even have a penis... though maybe if I put on a strapon and we got some lube..." She stammered as he gazed her down. "Back here..." He became visibly annoyed as he was led back to the gay men's porno stalls. Didn't they know he didn't become a superhero for this??? The Masked Manipulator, aka Colin Greenwood of Radiohead, was willing to help ANYBODY in need. He had no preferences, no matter how many questionable stories (and poems) about his exploits with men had been told. He wanted to be Superman, not Batman. Oh well, work your way up the ladder, he thought. He was led back to the far end of the stalls. They were all empty, but he could tell something was in the last one... The clerk held the door open, and he reeled from the sight. Then put on a face of disgust. The wet stuff sprayed all over the room around the dead man he at first thought was blood, but was most definitely something different. Gay porno of the most hard-core caliber was playing. A man on screen was experiencing two quite large objects being inserted at the same time. "Mmm... I mean, ugghh, was he dead long?" "No, I don't think so. There was a yelp, and I thought it was just one of the guys, you know, and then there was a sound like an explosion, and then I come in and this... what are you doing?? Are you touching yourself????" "NO! Just fixing my belt!" "Is that a bulge?" "Mmmm... I MEAN NO! It's a, erm, swelling. Allergic reaction from male semen. Hate the stuff, honest." "Anyway, no one was in the stall but him... Afterwards, we only found this with him." She held up what was quite obviously a dildo, but one of such a caliber that Colin had never seen... that is, if he were interested in such things. He ran one finger down the length subconsciously and sniffed, then licked. The girl watched him, incredulously. It was at least eighteen inches long, and made from the finest composites he had ever seen. There were not one but FIVE different vibrating functions. It had grooves and ridges of all sorts along its length. It was hard to think the thing could fit inside an ELEPHANT, let alone a human. "What a way to go," Colin said, somewhat wistfully. He reached for the dildo, taking it in his hand, and was suddenly overcome with powerful tingles up and down his spine. He moaned hard as he suddenly passed out. Will Colin solve the mystery of the dead gay man? Will Colin continue to deny the obvious? How DOES someone insert something that big? Find out next episode!!! ------------------------------------ Part 2 Thom Yorke awoke to some commotion. He could hear the other guys in the spacious tour bus raising their voices over something. Bleary eyed, he sat up in bed rubbing the sleep out and slowly lifted his smallish form up. He staggered somewhat to the door. Checking his watch, he found it was 5 AM. Way too fucking early for this sort of stuff. "This had better be good," he muttered resentfully, as he pushed the door open. Surprise wasn't enough to describe the expression on his face as the first words he heard from Colin were, "It's not a fucking dildo!!" "Look, you come swooping in here about two hours later than you said you'd be here," intoned Jonny in a brotherly sort of harsh nagging voice, quite unlike his public demeanor, "and not only that, but you drop THIS out of your sack! If it's not a fucking dildo then what the hell is it?" "It's a-" "It's big, black, and long, how else can you explain it?? I don't care where you bugger off to to buy some big old plastic wang to pleasure your arse with, and I'm totally fine with however you derive your albeit sick, twisted, and practically inhumane excitment from, but really, could you at least come in a tad earlier?? We're on tour, for Crissakes!" "Dammit, it's not a sex toy! I... found it. Practically thrust onto me, it was." "Well, thrusting would make sense, wouldn't it?" Thom leaned in the doorway, as the two Greenwoods were apparently completely oblivious to him. He could hear Ed and Phil rustling in separate bunks as they tried to sleep through it. Apparently trifling talk about 18-inch long objects very closely resembling sex toys wasn't enough to rise the senses. "It's... an instrument..." Colin peeped shamefully. "You're damn right it is, looks almost like a torture instrument," Jonny retored. "No, it's... some ancient xylophone. Or wood instrument. I'm not sure how it's played, it probably has to do something with those ridges." "Yeah, those things that would look like veins on a real cock?" Jonny was having a great time, Thom could tell. Despite his quiet attitude otherwise, he could really tear it up with his brother. Then again, they were in that respect practically like every other pair of brothers in the world. Still, he couldn't help but feel sorry for the now somewhat cowering Colin. He looked painted into a corner. Strangely, he also looked strangely worn out and pale- Thom assumed he already had quite a bit of fun with his newly acquired "instrument." "I swear, Jonny," Colin threatened weakly in the meek voice of a child, "you'd better quit it! You found that damn Ondes Martenot from some old classical type. We didn't know what the fuck it was when we first saw it. For all you know this could be the same deal!" Jonny merely smiled. "I want to branch out!!! I'm tired of being in your shadow all the time! Granted, I really CAN'T play anything but bass, but I'm willing to learn unlike Ed!" An angry murmur came from one of the bunks. "And ignore the fact that it's vibrating!! That's merely... harmonic oscillation!!!" Jonny couldn't help himself anymore, and burst out laughing. Colin began to make a lunge for him to grab the questionable object that Jonny was holding at quite a distance from him. Thom finally stepped forward and moved quickly between him, diminutive but commanding like a mother. Or a dominatrix. The brothers immediately froze. Jonny still smirked, however. "Really guys, knock it off," Thom said in a calm voice. "Colin, you really shouldnt've buggered off like that so late. You knew we needed to be ready for tomorrow. And Jonny," he continued, turning. "Yes, mistress," said Jonny in his best submissive tone. "Knock it off, Jonny. Clearly he's telling the truth. This thing's got too many..." he searched for the right word, "... pointy bits to be an ass dildo. Really looks like a glockenspiel or something you play by banging or something. Colin's got every right to grow and explore himself." This encouraged a snigger from Jonny as well as the prostrate forms of Ed and Phil. Thom scowled. "I mean, I think he has just as much right as any of us, yes, even Ed, to learn and contribute something to the band. so, colin, care to give it a whirl? Play around with it for awhile?" Colin was suddenly reluctant, considering the events that had passed earlier. When in the (sigh) gay men's adult book and video store, poised over the corpse of someone who had just died in the vicinity of the object, he touched it for the first time. The feelings and emotions that burst forth when he touched it were amazing and at the same time scary. He reached indeterminate highs and swooping, darkened lows. He was on a headtrip he couldn't describe. He felt like his body burst in a beam of energy and light. All the time he could see the dil- er, instrument, glowing mighty in front of him like some big black 18-inch tower of pure radiance and energy, framed by clouds and, er, rainbows. He felt like he was flying towards it, and he could feel tingles go up and down his spine faster and faster. His eyes grew misty and shiny as he neared it, he licked his lips in expectation, and then hit its surface hard- And woke up in the gutter outside the shop about half an hour after he'd come in, with a pounding headache. And a certain type of mess in his underwear. He could still feel his muscles throb from the experience. Since he became encouraged to defend the common good of the people, he wondered if this was a sign, that he was destined to do this, that finally (in a way) he could escape his multi-instrumentalist, multi-jerkass dickmunch of a talented brother. What if it was some powerful, ancient artifact? What if it could endow him, har har, with some super powers? What if he COULD fit the whole thing into his tight meaty ass? There was SOMETHING odd about it, that was for sure. Or maybe it was just a fucking dildo and they'll all laugh at him for it afterwards. They'd also pry about what he REALLY had been doing. They'd learn about his (albiet pathetic) ruse as the Masked Manipulator. It would all be over, any chance of proving himself. "There," Thom said, bringing him back to reality. Sitting in a bunk, one end braced up with three hardcover books and the other end with two, was the gigantic instrument in question. It glimmered in the light, but only because of its smooth extra-pliable black composite. Still, it was the strangest dildo Colin had ever seen. Suddenly Ed and Phil were awake. Guess it was too much for them to ignore. Ed smiled like a mischevious imp. "Heard you've got something new to try out, eh?" Ed said, grinning. "Just make sure you keep your pants up while you do so." Phil reached one tentative finger out and slid it across the top. He gave an approving nod, nothing more. "Well, give it a shot, brother," Jonny said, reclining on one of the bunks. He produced two xylophone hammers. Colin grasped them tentatively from Jonny's hands. He approached the instrument, seeing it almost glow with an aura he didn't notice before. He'd only toyed around with one of Jonny's glockenspiels before, nothing more. And he had no idea how to do this, which wasn't even technically a real instrument. Why had Thom done this? At first he thought he was being nice, but apparently he just wanted Colin to look like an ass too, trying to play with something that obviously was only meant to make you make noise. Oh well, he thought somewhat distantly, here it goes. He raised one hammer over the instrument and... Tune in next time to the Misguided and Questionably Graphic Adventures of Colin as the Masked Manipulator! Sex! Questions answered! Crazy didlo music!!! More sex!!! We know what ya like! ------------------------------------ Part 3 Thousands of years ago, in primordial Midsized Earth, war ravaged without end. A great, powerful, and black as night sorceror, by the name of Y'askul Arguluth possessed what was the most feared weapon of the time. Forged out of polymers thousands of years before their time, were forged twenty-one glistening, steely dildos of power. Nine were given to the Gimps of the West, which drove them mad and incessantly lustful. Seven were given to the Dwarf Bondage Midgets, who immediately retreated to their caves to never be seen again (though there was much screaming and hollering from below). That makes, um, 16, I think. OK, five left. Or was it six? Let's say seven. Five more were given to the High Gay Hermaphrodite Elves, which gave them throbbing erectile powers beyond measure. They were aware of the dangers and sealed the didos deep beneath the earth's crust, where the Bondage Dwarves got at them and thus was heard more screaming than before. Thus the Hermaphrodite Elves screwed themselves (... well, quite obviously they had to... they didn't have any other means after that, now did they?). That leaves, dammit, it leaves four more, ok? Three were given to the Wizened Old Wizards of the North, with their proper white robes under which they wore nothing. So was left, um, one, yeah, one dildo. One didlo to find them and in the darkness stimulate them. Its power and construction were like that unknown to any other man. Before then, the poor unfortunate souls used rusty dull swords as a means of pleasure and... let's say that the Black Death was given a run for its money as a result. So, yeah, 29 Dildos of Power. Not counting the hundreds of other Dildos of Power that I could go on about, you know, their secret stashes. And the One Dildo was given to a sorceror in the south so powerful that tight leather straps couldn't contain the rays of homoeroticism beaming forth from him. Once obtaining the Dildo of Power, he became so enticing that for hundreds of feet around him any gay man walking by would receive such a forceful orgasm that they would explode in bodily fluids and die a shocking, if ultimately pleasing, death. Becoming mad with power, Y'askul Arguluth would sieze lands surrouding him, as his one high dark tower (flanked on either side by suspicious looking mounds) would grow taller, harder, more, er, erect. He would sieze the lands of Talador and promtly change their name to Throbbingorgan, and sweep through in a frenzy of redecorating and metrosexualizing. Peseants would tremble at the sound of his approach, only minutes later to be covered in sequins and glittering stones, falling over on high-heels. Women, strangely enough, were ignored completely, though they certainly didn't mind the change of cliamte. Y'askul Arguluth and his mighty Rainbowed Riders on nine very color fully festooned steeds pranced across the land, wisking countries left and right under his tastefully tailored wing. He flew like an extravagant fairy across the lands, until it was decided that, however fashionable he might be, he must be stopped for the good of the people. Too much of the economy was being funneled in Ralph Lauren, after all. So amassed the Hermaphrodite Elves and their army of thousands, led by that one crazy guy from the Matrix. Some rode might steeds known then as Hippe-Hos into battle, braying furiously as they prepared for the charge. The Elves rode them with their supple thighs clamped tightly upon their backs, tight white Gucci pants outlining their superior figures. The Hippe-Hos became suddenly confused about their sexuality as a result of being rode by the Elves, roaring in slight perplexment. And so they met Y'askul Arguluth and his dark but showy armies, covered in ruffled feathers and extravagant lace, yet ready to kill at a moment's notice. Or scream and run away careful not to scuff up their shoes. The conflict was bloody, and man after man burst in terminal orgasm as Y'askul Arguluth waved around his passionate instrument of terror. Yet eventually, a certain elf, delicate sword in hand, managed to cut the arm swinging the instrument, and the body of Y'askul Arguluth disintegrated into rhinestones. All that was left was the instrument, which this particular close-cropped dark haired, scruffy looking familiar elf poised over. He ran his finger over its black length, and trembled... "So, Colin, ready to play," Jonny said, pointedly. "You sure you don't want to be alone." At that moment the dildo began to glow, probing into Colin's subconscious, almost familiar. The shape seemed engrained on his memory. He felt suddenly confident, but just at that moment Thom took the hammers out of his hands. "Colin, that's alright. Let me give it a shot first. I was the one who recommended you to that thrift shop anyway." "Thrift shop?" Colin said, confused, yet he was suddenly thankful that Thom had stepped in. He was protecting him after all. Thom gave him a sly look and smile. "Yeah, I guess it was my fault ultimately that you took off so late. Guess I was a bad influence. Now, let's see what kind of music this thing could make, if any." Jonny started to fake an orgasm to spite Colin. Suddenly they were in big/little brother mode, and Colin got enraged at him, ready to tear him to pieces. He scuttled off a way as Thom gave a disapproving cough. Focus returned to him as he began to strike the hammers down on specific bumps and ridges. It was making a hollow sound, which seemed slightly out of tune but was still distinctly musical. It rang and was melodic and at the same time deep and bassy. It was almost an impossible sound. "Well what do you know?" Thom said. "Could sound good on Idioteque, maybe." He began to thump out a tune, humming/half singing along with it, seeming to get lost in the moment and the music. Colin suddenly became worried. It seemed as if every note was driving deep into his soul. Frankly, it was having a different effect on the other guys. Phil was swaying along, lost in the music. He began to lick his lips. So was Ed, and he seemed to be fidgeting a bit. As the notes rang, Jonny became suddenly preturbed a bit. He seemed to be breathing heaving, gasping. Thom wasn't singing now so much as moaning. And Colin looked down and saw that there was definitely a little something busy down there. The sounds coming from the... instrument, were almost, erotic. Deep and bassy, almost sounding like a Portishead or Massive Attack type sound. Maybe with a little Issac Hayes or Barry White tone to it. Colin quickly pulled a book from a bunk and laid it over his crotch. Jonny started to mumble, lips trembling. "Uh, guys, I've, uh, gotta be excused." He ran back in the bus to the bathroom, in quite a hurry. A grunting sort of noise came from Ed. "Woah," was all he said, and he looked down. Thom, meanwhile, was groaning, eyes closed, definitely lost in the moment. His groans became harder and harder until Colin, finally under control, grasped the hammers from Thom. He was just hitting a high note, when his concentration was broken. It looked as if a brick hit him in the face. He fell over onto the floor of the bus, rolling a bit. "What the fuck?" he moaned, holding his head. Phil was nowhere to be seen now, but Colin could see one bunk's curtain had been pulled over, and there seemed to be quite a bit of activity coming from there. It seemed that Colin, ultimately, was the only one who could really resist... whatever that had been. And even then, it was pretty difficult. What the hell was this thing? "Driver!" shouted Thom, staggering to his feet. The driver, John, peered around back at Thom down the bus' length and nodded. "Driver, we have to stop for a bit, do you mind? We've, er..." he searched for the words, and gave up. "We've made a mess and need to get it cleaned up." "Sure thing," he said, knowing whatever it was was probably bad, but it couldn't be much worse than anything Tommy Lee had done. He pulled the bus aside at the next rest stop, which had a little cafe and gas station. Thom, Ed, and Colin, wordlessly, staggered out into the cold night air. It looked like it was about to rain, from what they could tell through the darkness. Suddenly Colin saw a pair of headlights down the road from where they came, and quickly felt uneasy. "Guys, look down there," Colin said, pointing. "I don't know why, but I've got a bad feeling about this." "Tell me about it," Thom muttered, looking down at himself. "Rachel's got some serious competition with that thing." "No, Thom, that," Colin said pointing at the car, a sleek black one, Lexus-looking, with some indeterminate figures in it. Dread began to creep. Tune in next time to the Misguided and Questionably Graphic Adventures of Colin as the Masked Manipulator! Who are those mysterious figures?? Is this really the One Dildo? Who the hell would make such a thing, anyways??? Does Ed get himself cleaned up in time to retain his dignity??? All this and more, next time! |