ness; my brain and thoughts remained active, but my body seemed to have gone. I had no hands or arms or legs or in fact any corporeal body. The only physical sense which remained was that of hearing. This seemed to have become strangely acute, I could see nothing, I felt nothing but the tick of a clock on an adjacent bureau resounded like the measured blows of a hammer on a blacksmith's anvil.
Across my thoughts raced the recollection of the girl in the moving picture who had been drugged. I knew that the strange tasting cigarettes I had smoked were responsible for my condition, but it caused me no preoccupation. To the contrary I seemed to be floating in an atmosphere of superlative tranquility-a nebulous state of perfect contentment, and the sensation was delicious beyond description.
The floating drifting impression continued for some time and then gradually and peacefully, I lost consciousness.
The next thing I knew, I was awakening from a refreshing slumber, which had imbued me with rare strength, and a feeling of inexpressible vigor. My cock was standing up with a firmness and rigidity surpassing anything I had ever experienced, and felt as though it were twice normal size. I was lying on the silken covers of a luxurious couch, my limbs covered with a
robe of some material so fine in texture that its contact with my naked flesh was lik^ an exquisite caress. The sense of feeling had returned to me, and I marvelled at the softness of the bed and the beauty of the garment which was draped about my body. I lay for a while in a state of blissful lassitude then stirring myself I looked about me. The surroundings were entirely unfamiliar. Never had I gazed on such wonderous and majestic architecture nor such a medley of beautiful colors as met my vision. By what agical means had I been transported to this enchanted palace? Light was filtering in through stained glass of a hundred different hues and colors, and to my ears there came the saound of soft strange music, something like the muted strains of a mighty organ, but sweeter, richer, than anything I had ever heard before.
Suddenly I became aware of a figure standing near one of the massive pillars of alabaster, which supported the dome of this vast room. It was the figure of a little girl. She was dressed in a long gown of dark red color which, draped loosely about her fell almost to her little sandal clad feet. Her hair black as night, hung about her neck and shoulders in a cascade of soft curls. She was ravishingly, seductively beautiful.
As I gazed at her in rapt ecstasy, she smiled
and advanced slowly toward me. On she came until at last she reached the side of the couch. Still smiling, she extended her hand, and inserted it within the folds of the garment which covered my body. It went directly to my cock and closed about it. Her fingers toyed with it a moment, playing lightly over the throbbing flesh and then with a gentle clasp she commenced to work the foreskin up and down. A feeling of ineffable ecstasy permeated my being, and as its radiations intensified, I inclined my body toward her, placed an arm about her hips and drew her closer. She smiled again, and in her eyes was the understanding of age-old wisdom.
With one arm still about her hips I reached down, placing my hand on the bare flesh of her ankle, just under the edge of her robe. Inch by inch it crept upward over the soft curve of her leg, over a rounded knee, up the length of her thigh. And in the meanwhile, the play of her hand on my cock continued uninterrupted. I reached the juncture of her legs, and with blissful anticipation placed my hand over her cunt -or rather, where her cunt should have been, for instead of a warm, moist little cunt, it found a cock, small, but erect and hard! A beautiful little girl with a boy's cock!
This anomaly did not disturb me. I was in a state in which all was perfect. If she had a boy's cock, all right. I took it between my fingers, and began to work it in reciprocation of the caress with which I was being favored. Her robe interfered with my movements and I separated the folds so that the little cock stuck out between her.
As my own organism responded to her ministrations, and the culminating moment approached, the movement of her wrist increased in velocity. The music in the distance became louder. Something white and wet flashed out of the end of the little cock between my fingers-and in the same instant my own began to pour forth its tribute. The music increased to a roar, the vast room began to whirl, and quickly all was a maze of crashing confusion. When the pandemonium died away the wonderous room had disappeared. There was no beautiful little girl, with a boy's cock and yet, dimly, vaguely, I seemed still to be clutching that warm bit of flesh.
Gradually, the realization stole over me that I had, experienced a fantastic, but wierdly realistic dream. I opened my eyes and recognized the familiar surroundings. Irma was lying beside me, propped up on her elbow, watching my face intently. Her right hand was holding my cock still wet and dripping, and just begin-
ning to wilt down. When she saw that I was awake, she broke into hysterical laughter.
"What in the world are you trying to do with my finger?" . . . she exclaimed between spasms of laughter. "You've been squeezing and pulling at it until it's nearly disjointed!"
Dazedly, I glanced downward. I was still gripping the index finger of her left hand.
"You little devil!" I answered, releasing it, "what was that stuff you gave me to smoke?"
I was really indignant and as she resented my failure to conside her act a favor, she remained silent. And to this day I have no knowledge of the exact nature of the drug which was responsible for my visit to artificial realms of magniflcience and eroticism.
The parting of the ways drew near. In recognition of Irma's generosity, splendid hospitality, .and the many favors she had shown me, I did everything possible to make myself agreeable to her during the remainder of my stay, and we separated the best of friends.
I passed several days wandering about the streets, or comfortably lying on my bed reading naughty French novels and magazines, collected by the score from newstands and kiosks. One afternoon as I was lazily debating the advisability of commencing preparations for my return, my detective friend presented himself. We
chatted a bit and then, putting on my hat and coat, I accompanied him downstairs, intending to have a parting drink with him before saying good-bye. We seated ourselves at a table in front of a little cafe, and ordered our favorite liquors. In the process of consuming these, my companion suddenly leaned toward me and whispered:
"Glance over your left shoulder in a moment at the girl sitting at the table just behind you. HI tell you something about her after we get away from here/'
A moment later I glaced casually around. Sitting herself sipping some colored concoction through a straw was as neat a little Parisienne as I had seen during my stay in France. Apparently eighteen or nineteen yeas old, dressed in a very short skirt, her shapely legs clad in black silk hose, and wearing a blouse of white crepe-de-chene, so diaphanous that the pink, lace edged brassiere shielding her exhuberant bubbies was plainly visible, she formed a picture whose details registered themselved with lighting rapidy in one brief glance.
Not wishing to be caught staring I turned away, and a few minutes later looked around again, this time concentrating my gaze on her face. It was entirely at variance with the extreme coquetry of her apparel, and the careless elevation of her