Mark Leigh - Dick Longg - Sexual Saviour of the Universe

Dick ran into the lounge. His newfound friends were all there, and all equally incapacitated due to additional holes in their anatomy. Faced by this carnage Dick felt sickened and stunned. As he looked forlornly at the bodies, considering just how much danger he was in, for example was it ‘extreme’ or just ‘severe’, one of the two men lifted some sort of syringe to his arm. Dick immediately went limp. He knew this was never a good state to be in whatever the circumstances, and now was no different.

Dick drifted in and out of consciousness for what seemed like several days. In moments of lucidity he recognised that he was in some sort of secure hospital, being interrogated and examined by doctors. He wasn’t aware of being tortured however his captors seemed extremely interested and concerned about his penis and Dick lost count of the number of times he was poked, prodded, measured, photographed, scanned and X-rayed. He even recalled being fondled but not in a nice way. It was by a man standing behind a glass screen using one of those mechanical claw devices more commonly used to handle dangerous plutonium fuel rods.

The treatment continued for a tedious length of time until he woke up one day in a different environment. This time Dick found himself naked in almost complete darkness in what he assumed was a prison cell. There was a rudimentary toilet and an uncomfortable sleeping bench against one solid wall while unyielding steel bars formed the other three. Dick was aware of a man shouting in the distance, accompanied by a low murmur that was becoming louder by the minute. Suddenly a klaxon sounded and his cell was flooded with a glaring white light.

As his eyes slowly became accustomed to the brightness Dick was aware of two things. Firstly, that his cell was actually more of a cage; one of many in a large tented enclosure. And secondly, that he had an audience that was slowly increasing in size. Not the previous collection of security personnel, scientists or medics. This was a completely new mix of civilians; men, women — even small children. It took a few minutes before the realisation of Dick’s situation began to sink in. He wasn’t just a prisoner, he was an exhibit in a Victorian freak show — the Elephant Man of 2150. To his audience, he must have appeared just like Joseph Merrick, hideously deformed and a sight to be pitied. Only unlike the real Mr. Merrick, Dick definitely did possess something resembling a rather large trunk. Smelling salts were being administered to a number of women who had fainted. Children were crying. Even grown men were crying but Dick didn’t know whether this was out of horror, pity or just jealousy.

Dick could hear the voice of the barker become louder as he moved through the astonished crowd. Soon he was in sight wearing a bright chequered showman’s costume and carrying an ornate silver-topped cane that he used as a pointer. Eventually stopping outside Dick’s cell he clanged the bars loudly with the cane.

‘There he is ladies and gentlemen’, he barked (because that’s what barkers did), ‘Before your very eyes, a freak of nature like no other! A living example of the dangers of sexual intercourse out of wedlock! This man has indulged in the sexual act far too frequently and became contaminated… infected… resulting in his current, hideous, pestiferous condition. Look how malformed he is. A man in human form for the most part, but between his legs hangs a gruesome appendage… a macabre tentacle!’

The inquisitive crowd surged forward as the barker whipped them into a fervour. ‘Have you laid your eyes on such a pitiful specimen? Not so much as man as a monstrous beast! There is no known cure for this sexual deviant. There is no relief from his suffering… apart from one!’

In expectation of the answer the crowd’s murmuring died down. ‘The only remedy’, the barker continued, ‘Is…’, (here he gave a theatrical pause), ‘Amputation!’

At this exact moment the barker pulled the top off his cane to reveal a swordstick. Catching the glare of the lights, the blade almost glowed and the crowd gasped. Dick gasped too, but for completely different reasons. He really, really, really hoped the barker had revealed the swordstick just for dramatic effect. He’d never hoped for anything in his life so much. To Dick’s immense relief the barker replaced the blade and continued his shpiel.

‘Step right up and take a look but and let me remind you: approach the cage at your own risk. Remember ladies, he could put anything through those bars!’

The barker put obvious stress on the word ‘anything’, at which point there was another collective gasp from the audience. Dick now realised why he’d been spared. Now that he was no longer involved with the Resistance, or whatever remained of them, he was relatively harmless. In this state he was obviously more use to the Party alive than dead. He was their greatest propaganda coup and as such would probably spend the rest of his pitiful days in this cage, entertaining the public. He imagined he was part of a large collection of ‘freaks’ used to promote the dangers of promiscuity. As he couldn’t see them properly he could only take a wild guess at the identity of his fellow exhibits in the other cages. Maybe there was a man with four testicles. Maybe he had more. Or none. A woman with two vaginas. Or a penis. Or three breasts.

Dick wasn’t sure whether it was the sense of danger, the fact he was naked and being watched or the thought of a woman with three breasts, but he felt an erection in progress. He wasn’t the only one to notice and it was obvious that the barker, let alone the spectators, had no idea how big it was going to get. As they backed off, Dick, feeling braver by the moment, moved to the edge of his cage until he was holding the bars, his face wedged up against them, waggling his stiff member and bellowing defiantly like a latter day Tarzan. He heard shouting. Lots of it. Faced with this spectacularly terrifying sight, many of the women and a number of men in the crowd passed out. Most of those who remained had run away crying in blind panic. A few of the more brave or inquisitive souls had decided to stay and stare. The barker, fearing for his life, had instinctively separated his cane again.

The blade came slicing through the air towards Dick’s groin, much too fast for him to react.

He screamed a primeval scream.

This was still bellowing from his lungs when Alice burst through the door.

‘What’s wrong?’, she asked. She looked extremely concerned.

Dick sat up in his bed and saw he was in his room once more. His sheets were in disarray and he was drenched in sweat from this truly terrifying nightmare.

‘Alice. You can’t imagine how pleased I am to see you’.

‘I’d noticed’, she replied, looking down at his lap.

Dick slept far more soundly the second time and awoke fresh to face whatever challenges the next day brought, just as long as they didn’t involve being abducted by any members of the Party. Or having a sharp sword heading directly towards his penis. He was towelling himself dry after another cold shower when Taylor knocked on his door, requesting his presence in the lounge.

‘Dick, there’s someone I’d like you to meet’.

‘Is it someone who’s discovered a way to return me to 2010?’, Dick spoke back to the door with misplaced optimism.

‘No’, came Taylor’s disembodied voice, adding Dick thought, to try and make him feel better, ‘But I’ve made you coffee and a hearty breakfast’.

Taylor had left the equivalent of a New Victorian sweat suit out for Dick to wear, a grey-coloured brushed-cotton ensemble, more functional than fashionable. In fact, not fashionable at all, unless you lived in a retirement condo in Fort Lauderdale, Dick thought. He finished dressing and headed for the lounge, contemplating that eggs, tomatoes, hash browns and bacon, even if it was the really crispy type he liked, were definitely no substitute for reverse time travel. He pushed opened the panelled door and found himself looking at a plump woman in her late forties. Her pale face was framed with a mass of unruly frizzy ginger hair, the style sported by the lead character in The Hair Bear Bunch.