The Revolution Sparked at the Collegia of Norfolkshire Part I

   Giorgio looked out the window, at the tents that laid out in the gardens that surfaced the campus grounds of the Collegia of Norfolkshire. The tents were dyed many colors, and some were painted not unlike those of ministrels, acrobat troupes, or travelling carnivals. He eyed the girls that walked in and out of the tents, some dancing as if in a trance, smoking canna and partaking of shaman herbs. He indeed thought his Collegia was heaven, even though his instructors were very strict on his studies. He then turned to look at the pale, wizened elder who spoke with a raspy throat.

   "As you may know, here in Alluvium, our resources to put education together has been tremendous, than the world we left behind. Descartes, who I met shortly before my Earth death and arriving here, wanted to merge all the arts together so they may be fully understood, to merge philosophy, theology, arts, humanities, with science, for he felt that even the spiritual could be seen in the cold logic of science." He gasped for breath, took a drink of dark red wine, and continued. "Of course, Descartes said, "I think, therefore I am'. This is so true to all of us in Alluvium. We live and die, live and die, in our senseless acts of violence, to return again. We are what we think, our actions betray us, our thoughts betray us. This is why our circicullum is strict, we must study hard to form and shape the intellect".. "To be the best person we can be". The professor shifted his head to adjust his smudgy, yellow-tinted spectacles to his nose. "Yes, we have hired even more printers and scribes, to meet the demands of the knowledge that comes through here in Alluvium. Yes, more textbooks to study, more books to revise, and make additional companions to textbooks to supply the ever-demanding knowledge we bring with the newcomers that arrive in Alluvium. We have seen automata built, incredible war-machines of automata, such as dragons made out of metal, war toys of destruction. Our motto here, in this instution of knowledge, is that knowledge must be used for good, and not for evil; 'bonum ex malo non fit- good does not come from evil'. Here we have always wished Leonardo Da Vinci has arrived here in Alluvium, especially to reside here at this fine collegia of learning that we are so proud of. Allow me to introduce Reggio, who was a corpse drawn by Leonardo Da Vinci. He was able to draw Leonardo's inventions, and that is why we have them. This has been kept a secret for many decades, for we are surfacing this secret, to you all, to further the learning of this establishment". The students gasped and were awed in surprise. Everyone wondered why Leonardo Da Vinci's inventions came to fruit in Alluvium. Some simply belived that those who saw Leonardo's drawings could describe the inventions, and that was actually the case in many instances. The students clapped and the professor hushed them.

   Reggio spoke. "Greetings, it is a pleasure to be here. When I arrived here in Alluvium, I had no idea how I died, or what my past was. I couldn't remember a thing. I was confused, like many others. One day, I saw a man with papers and pens, and I politely asked if I could have some. He was adamant and couldn't refuse my charms, so he gave me a nice box of parchments and fine feathers, with jars of ink. I began, to draw, to my surprise, with alarm clarity, these drawings, out of nothing, with no formal training. I began to draw my own corpse, as the way Leonardo was drawing my corpse. I drew my anatomy, my skeleton. I drew many of Leonardos inventions, his theories, his notes, I started filling up that box with stuff that came out of nowhere. I didn't even know who Leonardo was, but I even signed them with his name". He held up many drawings for everyone to see. The students were shocked in awe. They formed a line to examine the drawings and began to ask questions.

  The professor spoke, to bring order. "We ourselves, have kept this a secret, for many of these war inventions, as you seen Reggio has drawn, have not been made. The ones you see out on the battlefield have been inspired by those who have seen Leonardo's inventions back on Earth. Here in Reggios case, he has transferred Da Vinci's knowledge to us by his corpse being Leo's muse. As far as we may know, this may be the only case of it's kind in Alluvium". We have formulated many theories, and we will divulge them, in this phamlet that shall be handed out to you all after this lecture. Tommorow's lecture we shall discuss these theories and you all shall write a thesis on your theories, and then we shall have examinations of Reggio. Class is dismissed". The students were handed out a small booklet as they examined the drawings, all curious eyes darting at Reggio and the anatomical drawings of him.

   Giorgio sighed. He wondered what he was doing back in Venice, before he arrived here. His memories were hazy, he remembered the canals, serenading the girls waving back to him from their verandas, as he sat in his gondola, playing his harp and lyre with finesse. He would wear a velvet mask and a silk-lined velvet cloak, as he lured girls to his gondola, and kissed them and began to make love to them. Then one night, a jealous lover stabbed him in the back.. he had to hold back his tears and regained his composure, as not to draw the attention of the class. He spent years wondering which girl was his one and true love, and wondered if he'll ever see them again. He felt he was the king of the world, already in heaven, floating on rose-strewn, perfumed waters of Venice, girls in ornate, emroidered silks inviting them to their lavish balls and galas, each day a feast with nobles and aristocrats, where they discussed poetry and literature, and dabbled in fencing, for he has survived many duels, with several scars. He was well educated, having tutors in his youth, and even arriving in Alluvium, he couldn't let go of his academic ways, finding the Collegia to satiate his curiosities he couldn't find in the world he left behind. Soon, he felt, it wasn't always a matter of finding more strides in science, in medicine, in industrialization, but the most important stride, was in humanity, in man finding reason and logic, that could conquer the chaos of violence that always upsurped mankind, and this was the motto of the Collegia of Norfolkshire, 'bonum ex malo non fit'. Giorgio felt that wars could be stopped with words, with reason, and not with any new-fabricated war machine. He wanted to sing them, as he would cradle his lyre into his hands, strumming them carefully with dexterity.

  "How much must this madness must go on??" rasped the aged professor. His glasses were so stained and tinted that it look he could see better peering outside of the lenses.
  "Alfreid, I know how you feel, about the students discipline, about the distractions". said the Headmaster, an aged professor, a bit more studier, less droopy, but more masculine, stronger than many of the teachers.
  "Pardon me sir, but distractions? This is canna and psychedelics and abase, loose moral women we are talking about!!". Alfreid rasped.
  "I invited them in, to stay on this campus grounds. Their message of love and peace that they spead throughout Alluvium is of importance to the message of this Collegia. I trust our students will make their own decisions with the best discretion we have taught them". The Headmaster, who was considred the most harsh disciplinarian, was rather
  "Its blasphemy! Hypocrisy! How can the students study, esp with the massive load of books coming in??.. pardon my tone of voice, sir.. "
  "It's alright. Keep in mind that Nuremburg has killed much of them, and we have taken them in as sanctuary, for their protection. We are trying to spread the word of peace, for that we must teach that here in Alluvium, we return to life after being killed in war, to learn that one mustn't do it again, we cannot allow those in Alluvium to feel that death and killing should be taken for granted. It goes against the theories and philosophies we have tried so hard to bring to fruitition"
  "Yes.. but.. what about the canna and psychedelic use, sir?"
  "It is all in the name of science, Alfried. We have a strict rule on alcohol on campus, to keep strict discipline. But now, we have students writing very resourceful and insightful theories on the psychedelic experience. With the raids and wars on Norfolkshire, we cant deprive our students of life".
  "Sir.. just how many of those girls have you had.. ". The headmaster laughed. "Ill be on my way, Sir", said the startled Afried. The headmaster returned to his study, where he smoked a bowl of canna, with a naked girl, painted in bright colors..

  Giorgio went down the tower steps, admiring the oils of the great academians and scholars dimily lit in torchlight and narrow stained windows. A well-dressed nobleman walked up the steps, clad in fine velvets and leather hunting gear, smoking a pipe filled with canna.
   "Hey Giorgio! Class is over Ive been looking for you, hey, smoke this!" Hubert twirled his long mustache and goatee hairs as he held out his ornately carved horn pipe.
   "Hubert, man, the last lecture was so far-out, dude."
   "Fuck that, I don't wanna hear about it. Smoke this."
   Giorgio took a puff of the pipe. He laughed, the sensations of pleasure wafted through his mind, and he soon began to feel vibrant, alive, and started to dance a bit..
   "Yeah, man that's more like it" laughed Hubert. He nudged Giorgio and pressed him towards the door. "Let's go to the tents, dude". Drums, harps, lyres, strings, flutes filled the air. Giorgio took out his lyre and started strumming, as he approached the brightly dyed tents, painted in swirls, arcane-like anagrams, flowers, insects, bees, birds.. The procession of musicians, dressed in dyed rags, not unlike the tents they lived in, welcomed Giogrio heartwarmingly, adjusting their rhythmn to meet his. They played together as if they have jammed for years. Naked girls danced on the campus of the Collegia, painted in psychedelic colors, high on canna and other shaman herbs. They swirled and gyrated, danced among the throng of musicians, shaking and twerking. All campus eyes were on these performers, from windows or from the grounds. Soon the drums came to a halt. The music dwindled down. Out of the biggest tent, came a small man, who was rather so small, that he was held on a giant man's shoulders, so he could be seen by all. His garb was more garish than any pompous aristocrat's, but lacked the finery that only they could afford. He wore necklaces of arcane symbols and crystals. His face was painted in flowers. Garlands of flowers wrapped his head like a crown. He took a puff of canna from his pipe and spoke:

   "Stop wars! Do you all not know, that we live in Alluvium, to live and die, and to live and die again, and again, and again, to learn one thing! To stop killing and fighting! It is so easy to break something, but so difficult to fix it. The fragility of life! We cannot create a living thing, but we can destroy it! We must honor life, above all things, as sacred. To reason, of any accord, that could harm a living thing, is unreasonable, for we must strive, to find our true selves as living beings to honor life as a living being! We are given life to honor it, not to destroy it! We must stop wars! How many times do we have to suffer the same fate of the futility of war, of violence, over and over, to find that it solves nothing? It always solves nothing! Alluvium has proven this! War solves nothing!".

  Murmurs of agreement from the crowds ensued. A professsor began to clap. Soon an applause roared. "No more wars! No more wars! No more wars!" Everyone began to chant it, as a mantra. The drums began, and then the musicians followed, and the naked girls started dancing.. the crowds were chanting and chanting, dancing, canna was passed out by freaks and then the small man sitting on top of the tall man raised his hands, and the drums stopped, the music dwindled, and was very low, a small strum here and there.

   "I bring you the message, from King Love, that, we are created by Him to love others, just as He loves us. Life is love, and love is life. When one sees a flower, or an animal, or a human, as living, as alive, it is the same as loving. Living and Loving is one breath. We breathe love, we breathe life. We eat love, we eat food. We drink love, we drink love. Our hearts beats love, our hearts beat blood. Then why, do we still hate, and have violence and wars, you ask? Because, this world is tainted, my friends. It has been tainted by our enemy, the enemy of King Love. A fallen angel, has caused this taint, this curse of nature, and even in Alluvium, it resides. This taint has resided in Earth when we left it, and yet we meet this curse here in Alluvium and my friends, we ask, why? Why did we not escape the ill-fated things we met on Earth? We have been given, this second chance, to redeem ourselves, to prove to King Love, that we can conquer evil with love, by loving others! All Hail King Love! All Hail King Love!"

   The crowds began to chant immediately. "All Hail King Love! All Hail King Love!" The drums were pounding madly, the musicians were excastic, the girls danced in a frenzy, and everyone followed the parade around campus, dancing, smoking canna, it became rather more intense than any drunken student party, in which almost the entire school was involved, including many strict professors, who seemed like in a trance, and they followed the little man sitting on the tall man's shoulders around the Collegia of Norfolkshire's grounds, banging on drums or musicial instruments, passing out pipes filled with canna or other herbs, and many a couple went at it in the gardens or bushes, many of the naked girls did nothing to fight off the men's advances, but welcomed them, much to their delight. It became an orgy of epic proportions. Alfried, the decaying professor, looked out his office window, sighed deeply, for he never thought he would see the day something like this would happen at the Collegia. He felt the Headmaster had too much power, and his decisions were supported by the majority vote of the other professors. He could understand why the Headmaster let the freaks stay on campus for protection. It was no secret that Spies of Nuremburg watched the gate, alert for any signs of the freaks leaving, to kill them. There was quite a scandalous skirmish that happened a few weeks ago, leaving ten freaks and two students dead, as well as four Nuremburg spies killed and one captured and interrogated. If any soldier or spy of Nuremburg entered the campus, they would have to kill the gaurds, as well as get into a full-scale war with Norfolkshire. Alfried wondered if it would come to that. Nuremburg hated the freaks vehemently, hated their pacifist agenda as well as hated the Collegia as well. Alfried wondered at how much of the funds were left to support everyone. Apparently, many of the students were able to sell much of the canna for handsome heapings of letcher. Alfried wondered at this, how they could avoid war, he wanted to avoid war. He loved their teachings, as simple they were, but logical, and he felt deeply that he cared, but he wished there wasn't so much partying on campus. He loved the strict, orderly discipline of studying and reading of the academic, scholarly lifestyle. He wondered at the curiosity of psychedelic use and found it fascinating. He just wanted order, to keep the school running smoothly. But none of these things worried him too much. It was war that we was afraid of. He was afraid of Nuremburg attacking the school and inciting a war among various factions in Norfolkshire. His collegia was one of the few, if not the only one in Alluvium that taught a philosophy of peace within it's students. many philosophy students wrote very insightful books on pacifism in Alluvium, and many anti-war theorists have written quite many a startling thesis here at the Collegia he loved so much. Alfried yawned, and looked away from the window, to his study, and sat down and read a book, jotting down a few notes in the candlelight.

   Giorgio smiled at the naked girls who danced around him, one was painted like the stars of the night, another like the waves hitting the beach, another in psychedelic swirls and paisleys. They danced to the rhythmns of his lyre, as if he were a satyr serenading his nymphs. They kissed and caressed him, and guided him to the large tent. Inside, a massive love-fest took place, the air was thick with canna and sense-hightening insense, and the girls led him to a bevy of silk pillows, were they all cuddled, and began to make love all night long. He would at times, pause to play the lyre, or play it simultaneously. The room was filled with silk pillows, rugs, furs, hanging crystal shards that glowed various colored lights, all kinds of wonderous ephurmeia. Later that night, the little man came inside, and this time, he was not sitting on the big man's shoulders. An applause roared as he entered the tent. "All Hail King Love" they regaled. After conversing with various groups, he went up to Giorgio's group. "Greetings of Love, I am Festivus. I admire your talents on the lyre, please do play it with us all night, for we are embarking on an inner journey".
   "Inner Journey?", piquid Giorgio. Festivus blushed and laughs.
   "I do believe you know the answer to your question" he gave a smile. Of course Giorgio knew what was going on. It was no secret.
   "Yes, of course", Giorgio giggled and laughed. Festivus handed Giorgio a small vial containing a few drops of liquid.
   "Partake of this, and join us, our marvelous bard, and give us music to guide our journey through the heavens. You will leave this old self behind, to be renewed, like a bird taking a bath, cleansing the dust out of your feathers, so that your flight of life and attainment of existing and being will be effortless, you will know thyself, soaring through your being and the universe as one, taking up the wings of love."  Festivus turned and clapped. The orgy was too intense for anyone to pay him any attention. He walked to the giant whose shoulders he sat on, tapped on his shoulder;
   "Andre, Andre" The giant laughed and immediatley took Festivus on his shoulders, and Festivus head nearly touched the top of the tent, he was among the many hanging sculptures, lights, lanterns, euphermia, etc and so forth. He began to bang a gong, loudly, and soon he got everyone's attention.
   "Hear ye, regalers and yodelers, the ceremony has begun".
   "It has already begun ages ago, at least many thousands of centuries ago" shouted a rather high and wasted student, laughing manically.
   "Of course, it has, you are so correct. However, let me be your guide to today's ah, hike through the enchanted forest of the mind and self, and the universe". Applause ensues, shouts of maniacal laughter and giggles ensues through the tent.
   "What Enchanted Forest? There are mazes of mazes of interwining and intersecting lives of untold stories that lie before us, the cradle of mankind is beyond ancient, to be one person in a pyramid made by thousands of men filled with hordes of wealth is nothing compared to the great knowledge that simply loving others and making others happy is the true wealth that surpasses all luxuries and pleasures of mankind's endless follies". A wasted freak spoke, with a large pipe of canna, with a large bowl filled to the brim. He was covered entirely in a parody of a knight's armor made of flowers.         "Splendid! That was so beautiful, very beautiful, Borir! Everyone applause Borir". Festivus soon began to spoke.
   "Borir has told us something beautiful, that the true wealth is love. The cradle of mankind is love, it's whats holds us all together. Borir, I was speaking symbolically, our enchanted forest is love. Each one of you, please take a flower, they are passed out to you.". The psychedelic-painted girls handed out everyone a flower.
   "This flower, is your tree, it is our forest, The flower, is love. Imagine, that this flower, has wings, as you sniff and smell the beauty of this flower, its wings will guide you through the depths of love. Love, is the true Universe, love is the true reality and life".
   Giorgio looked at the flower a painted girl held up to his face as Giorgio began to strum his lyre. Festivus' guidance was working. The flower, in the psychedelic vision, began to sprout, wings of petal-like feathers, elegant and beautiful, giving off scents of enchanting beauty, and as it flapped it's wings, the perfume of the flower went through Giorgio like a wind, as if he was flying through the scent and beauty of the flower. Giorgio thought there was nothing more beautiful than this flower. It was alive, pulsating with life and love, and he began to felt, as if he was in a bed of flowers, shrouded in it's beauty, in it's inviting, nuturing warmth, and the soothing words of Festivus, as he described the flower, became a narrative for the journey.
  "See the light, See the flower, see the Love". Festivus held the flower to his face, staring at it intensely. Giorgio could see himself riding the wings of the flower, through serene clouds among birds and through a beautful eden.
Giorgio began to kiss the flower intensely, and began to nibble at a petal. A painted girl spoke to Giorgio. "Calm down, but don't worry, it's a harmless flower, there are plenty, but don't eat it, it's not poisonous though, but keep it calm".
Giorgio nodded. He still kissed the flower and continued to stare at it and smell it.
  "See the light of love. But in this journey through the enchanted forest, there are things to learn. There are shadows.". Festivus voice was a bit stern, and less soothing. Giorgio looked at the flower, and it began to sprout scary, scaly thorns, and he almost felt their prick, although not real, it's as if his body could almost react to such a sensation. The petals began to rot, and it changed into a skull, grinning, the eyes glowed many colors, and in the eye sockets Giorgio saw tunnels of violence of suffering, visions of war in the eye sockets, staring at him, the skull was grinning with wicked laughter, and it turned into the face of a rat corpse, decaying and decaying.. Giorgio was a bit nervous, there were shouts of fear and freak-outs in the tent. Soon the menancing skull turned back into a flower.
  "Not to worry everyone, I am your guide. Keep calm, breathe, and be positive. Our girls are here to soothe you and to watch over you all. We are here to learn, and of course, you all know the subjective and objective views a scientist of most of you to observe and learn from our journey". Festivus held the flower high, for all to see. He began to dance, and put on a circus jester's mask. The girls did likewise, putting on the jester's mask, and began to do court-jester skits. 
   "Life, is a parody of itself. Fantasy is a parody of reality, and reality is a parody of fantasy. As you stare at the flower, at the light, at love, it sometimes, will be darkness, it will be hate. We have nightmares, we have conflicts. We are here to show you that the light of love, is eternal, this is the true reality, the true fantasy, for the darkness, the shadow, which is hate, is not the true reality, is not the true fantasy."
   "Can I skip this part?? I'm kinda scared" said a nervous student, who couldn't hide his fear.
   "Yes, you may." He gestured for a girl to guide him outside and soothe him.
   As Giorgio strummed his lyre, the flower began to change from wings to a woman's legs as he kissed it. The flower turned into a vagina, and he was kissing and licking it, the perfume enchanting him and placing him into a trance. He almost felt a tongue come from the flower to intermingle with his, he kissed the center of the legs made from petals of a rose, and then all of a sudden, the flower turned into a decapitated head of a rat. He shrieked, recoiled back into terror. The girl chuckled and toseed out the flower and gotten a new one, for Giorio wore out the previous one. "Not to worry" chided the girl, painted like the night sky.
   "Booleanna, what happened? I saw a rat head"..
   "Its all a part of the journey, not everything in this universe is good or pleasant" whispered Booleanna.
   "I see a swirling tunnel, of many colors and patterns, there are naked girls flying through this tunnel, I think they are witches.. the tunnel leads to a floating castle, constructed by many strange antique invetions of unknown use, I see the masks! They are glowing, glowing bright- they change characters.."
   "Its alright, Giorgio, calm, relax and enjoy it, shhh.. " whispered Booleanna.
   "Many of you have experienced death and returned back to life here in Alluvium. We are here to die a undeath, where our old selves die so we may be reborn a new creature, through this journey, we are reborn through our journey, our learning, our experience. We are trying to find our true selves. Who are you? Why are you here? Why are you created? Why are there so many lies to hide the truth? Man create lies. Man, the most sophisticated and intellectual animal, creates lies and deceit, man, the smartest animal, the smartest creature, is perhaps the most confused, believing lies and creating them, giving in to hate and creating articulate machines of hate. As we wear these masks, you will see the lies that obscures your vision". Festivus danced in his mask and jester's hat, as well as the girls. Their masks seemed to the trippers, changing and changing in faces and form, from goblins, devils, angels with multiple wings and horns, changing in appearance and aura, angels looking demonic, demons looking angelic, strange humanioid lamps, bee-men, insectoids, aliens, decaying corpses dancing, a skeleton with a doll face with glowing red eyes.. a student screamed in fear. "Im freaking out!! Arrggg!" and was carried out by several of the painted girls. Some guys were laughing hysterically.
   "Calm down everyone, it's not funny, but laughter is good for the soul". Festivus couldn't contain his giggles and started to laugh like a crazy man. The laughter spread throughout the room, everyone started to laugh like maniacs, like madmen. Then some of the laughter turned to fear, and some started to weep hysterically.
   "The walls are melting! The walls are melting!" shouted a student.
   "Get him the anti-dote!" Festivus shouted to one of the attendants. They immediately brought him some herbs to alleviate his trip to bring him down to a pleasant one.
   "Calm down. We have yet a ways to go". Festivus said, in a stern but confident tone. "What you will experience, is to see the light that is Love, and that Love, is not a lie. We must reason, among ourselves, as the most sophisticated and intelligent creature, created by King Love, that love is not a lie. We must perceive things with the eye of Love, with King Love's eye. We must see that the demons of hate try to cloud our Universe with lies, so that we are always caught in a wind of lies, swimming in a sea of lies, but we must know, that we ourselves, are truth, that we exist as truth, and that we exist as love. We are created by love to love ourselves and others. We must embrace the light of love.." Festivus was interuppted by a nervous student.
   "Why do you have to mention the word, Demon". said another nervous student.
   "Oh, knock it off, Harold, you don't need to be so sensitive and take offense to that word" said Harold's friend.
   "Geez, man, I'm just paranoid".
   "Relax, my friends. Just know that if you give yourselves to King Love, he has you, and no one can take you away from King Love's love. His love is strong, it cannot be defeated. His love towards you is incomprehensible by human means, he loves you more than we could ever value or fathom". Festivus began to sing. "All Hail King Love" and everyone began to follow along, humming or singing, playing their instruments.
   Soon a horn sounded, outside the tent. They were rudely interrupted. It was the campus warning horn, the chapel bells began to rang. The dazed, tripping revellers were rather shaken, frightened, at the abrupt interruption. The revellers felt awoke in a shock, still intoxicated, in a trance, trying to make sense of what is going on.
   The headmaster stood on a podium, rather gravely, disheveled and tired, for it was the middle of the night and the sun has yet to rise.
   "I must speak on behalf of the university, and of Norfolkshire. I bring bad news, for we must strive to keep the peace, but we have to act on threat of war. The Baron Theosiphus, has brought to me official transcripts, that Norfolkshire will be at war with Nuremburg, there are armies right outside of the gates, and we will be at seige, if we do not release Festivus and his merry regimine". Shouts of protest arose. Boos and disgruntled mumblings were heard.
   "We will leave at once" said Festivus. "We will always keep the peace. We would rather die and die again, than to raise a hand to harm anyone."
   "Thank you, Festivus" said the Headmaster. "We have hired bodygaurds and mercenaries to protect you througout your exile. We spent all our coffers on your protection, so that you may all spread peace and love througout Alluvium".
   "We don't need Bodygaurds, we do not want to harm others or engage in war", pleaded Festivus.
   "It is my decision". Its really to protect the students, for they may follow you. They are our primary concern. It is also to protect the girls from rape by the knights of Nuremburg. Since we have spent our coffers, the school is closed for the semester and we will return next semester. Students, please gather your things and return home. We will see you all next year."
   "Thank you, kind sir, for your hospitality." bowed Festivus.
   "It is all done in the name of science and peace." remarked the Headmaster. Festivus turned to address the crowd. "I will give my life to have you all spared the expense and terror of dying. I know some of you have experienced it and as awful it can be, it can also be beautiful. But now is not good time to do it, but I will try to offer myself in all your place. Girls, please give the anti-dotes to everyone, to bring them down from their intoxications." Festivus then patted Andre's hand, and Andre took him upon his shoulders and they walked towards the gate of the campus. The collegia, used to be a great walled stronghold that was the army barracks, but the Baron Theosiphus, an academican and scholar, turned it into the great Collegia, and it had fortifications and further construction was built to create a great school of learning. Norfolkshire was well reputed in using any diplomatic means of avoiding war and also well known for it's eccentric cultures.

  
  

Operation Wild Ophelia, Complete, First Edit.

Side Quest:

 Operation Wild Ophelia

   Gilvert was 77 years old, quite elderly for a spy, he was sent to watch a cleric of St. Peter, in an adventuring party whose quest it was to bring supplies to a town quarantined by the Plague. Gilvert was rather peturbed, for he heard the distinct bird call of a do-do bird, and knew he had leave the party, and leave his mission for the time being. He walked in the direction of the bird call, and saw a light from a mirror flashing out a code from the mountain, G-I-L-V-E-R-T. He trudged up the mountain, and saw a campire, where an agent was feasting on some goat.
"Could you camp somewhere more decent?" gasped Gilvert, a bit dazed from the climb.
"When I saw you walking I started flashing the light. I was afraid the whole forest would walk here". The agent was a young lad, just older than manhood.
"That is a directional mirror it only strikes light exactly where you point it" said Gilvert.
"You sure know your stuff. Been a spy long?" said the lad.
"Longer than my age." Gilvert picked up a goat leg and started munching on it.
"Lets get to the point. I'm Ataurd, by the way. We've got a emergency protocol here, the higher ups want you to investigate what they call a "Pit and Pendulum Alert".
"Its that bad? I'm sladding 77 years old for christ sake. I feel every wound and every scar on my body."
"They think you're the perfect man for the job".
"Spit it out, what the slad is it?" Gilvert was impatient. He wanted to know what was more important than bringing provisions to thousands of starving, dying plague victims, even more important than the possiblity of saving them and finding a cure.
"Its Wild Ophelia".
"Wild Ophelia? No shit you're kidding me? I've heard of that place. Haven't been there, but I actually planned to!". Gilvert laughs.
"So you know what Wild Ophelia is?"
"Yes, it's a Chocolatier and Bordello. I've been wanting to visit that place sometime. Even retire there." Gilvert shakes his head in laughter, as if he was entertaining himself and getting a kick out of his self-conscious sense of humor.
"Well, here's your chance. You gotta go to Wild Ophelia and be a customer. Eat their Truffles, their chocolates, bed their women, but.. well, sigh.. ok Gil, here's the deal. Check out these drawings."
"What the Slaaaaaad is that????".
"Yeah, you gotta slaaaaaaay that. Get rid of it"....."Please"..
"So, all these customers are dying at Ophelias?" Gilvert was reading the mission briefing notes, the drawings and illustrations.
"Yeah, theres some strange kick. Customers are actually paying a lot of money to die at Wild Ophelia's".
"Wait a minute... I'm a old fart, you little shit! How in the flying fuck am I going to slay that?"
"Read the next page"... Gilvert sighs and checks it out.
"Oh yeah...... sure thing here in Alluvium, we all get more expendible with our lives so easy. I always thought life is precious, it isn't a toy".
"Here's a big bag of gold. Be sure to spend it all in one place: Wild Ophelia's".
"I sure fucking will you little shit" and with that Gilvert howled with laughter.

  Gilvert sat in the coach, dozing off from nimble slumber to taking peeks out the door to see if he was followed or attacked by any persuers. For an old man, he needed his rest, and hoped to get it. One of the perks of being a spy, was the rather unlimited budget he had, his coach buggy was luxurious, lined with gilded velvet and ornate designs of cherubs, with an oval oil painting on the ceiling, of angels soaring in the heavens. A little shelf held an assortment of liquors and ales. Gilvert chuckled and said, "Why not?" and had a glass of whiskey. There were some ice still left in the ice box. Another shelf had an assortment of books.
The carriage has come to an abrupt stop, and Gilvert spilled his drink. "Slad".


"Oh Handsome fella! We are so graced by your generous presence". A rather demure girl stuck her head through the carriage door, her face covered in body paint of the night. Her hair was dyed colors of the night sky, with silver stars sewn into her bangs, silver stars painted on her skin, and that is all she wore.
"I am Midnight Rose, I am here to-"
another girl stuck her face in, "I am Crying Angel". She had wings, halo, with dark tears strewn down her cheeks. Not much else is covering her body.
"I am Serene Dusk" She had an ornate scene of the sun settling down painted between her eyes, and also settling down between other horizons of her curves.
"I am Lush Garden"
"I am Moon Mermaid"
A succession of painted girls were outside the posh coach, eager to recieve their guest, holding baskets of chocolates and thowing rose petals in his path. The girls kissed Gilvert's cheeks and lips, his hands, his robe, each girl introducing themselves with their fancy names, fondling Gilvert, giving him hugs and bring him closer to the door, of Wild Ophelia's. Not your typical tavern, but a rather dashing manor, painted in dark purple, maroon colors, covered with a demure moss that gave the building a life of its own. It had a storefront window displaying chocolates in little boxes made of various colors of lingerie. A sign near the door read Wild Ophelia, with a girl with her hair in many directions but in a pleasing manner, to depict the title in such whimsy.
The parlor was like a chocolate store, with many glass cases of many chocolate truffles of various colors and many dustings of various colors, some glowed and were phosphorent, some had crystals that shone and flickered many lights, some were rather dark and sooty as if covered in black ash.
"Ladies, it is a tremendous pleasure to meet you all". Gilvert was beaming. He could not hide his joy. He had no reason to, for he was like a little kid in a candy store with a sack of money, literally. He felt that way. This was his favorite mission. "With all the marvelous chocolates here, you girls will have to recommend your favorites". He smiled deep and wide, baring teeth, ogling the girls with his lustful eyes. He couldn't take his hands off the lucious bottoms of the girls, so one of the girls brought him a truffle, and fed it to his mouth.
Oh, it was lucid joy. The rapture. Marvelous malcontention, Gilvert sensed he was getting high. He kept feeling pleasure, as if he was having sex. A boner raged in his leather pants, and he startled for a minute. A boner?? He was wide-eyed. He threw out a fistful of gold coins in the air, and laughed insanely. The girls laughed with him, and brought him to his penthouse room, a lavish room filled with velvet tapestries, pillows, exotic animal rugs, and Gilvert, tore off his silk garbs, and started pawing the girls, licking their bodies. He tasted chocolate and sugars on them, for they were painted with colored chocolates, colored sugars. He licked them and they licked him in return, covering him in chocolate syrups, and all forms of lovemaking were done to the fullest. Gilvert has never felt this before. As far as he couldn't remember, his youthful days he has never felt this pleasure when shagging the girls of the streets. He could go at it over and over. His boner was strong, youthful, and kept on going. He felt pleasure like he has never felt before. He couldn't believe it. Tears streamed down his eyes. How could an old man like him, do something hes never even done in his days of ribald youth as a Casanova Spy? The chocolates has given him sexual stamina that is superhuman. He ate and ate truffle after truffle. Some were spiked with marijuana, spiked with opium, and other various things he's never heard of or thought even existed. He could go on and on forever, and it was getting late. Almost a whole day has passed, and the girls kept coming in, more than 50 girls already. The rugs were filled with chocolate, the beds, the pillows, of passionate, powerful love-making. Gilvert sensed danger. He had to stop. He couldn't and he had to, he had to get back to his senses. Intoxicated beyond comprehension, delighfully stoned, high beyond high, drunk beyond drunk, Gilvert was quibbling, drooling, orgasming, orgasming, orgasming, orgasming..

"Girls, girls.. "
"Gilvert, you want to stop already? It's only been a day?"
"Oh".. "Oh.." "Ooooohhh".. Gilber was still orgasming. "Girls, Girls, this place is messy, lets take a break".
With that, Gilvert fell asleep, orgasming while sleeping. He orgasmed in his sleep, dreaming psychedelic dreams of otherworldly orgies, if they haven't been otherworldly already.

  It was night. Gilvert slept for at least a day, exhausted, coming down from the powerful sexual aphrodesiacs, shaman psychotropics, and various herbs. He felt so weak, and so shriveled, and felt withrdrawal effects so painful that he almost wanted to die to in order to avoid the anquish, the mental and physical torment, his member hurt, in intense pain, but he felt it covered with a soothing salve, that was cooling it and healing it in restoration. He wondered if he could ever use it again, he wondered at the alchemical wonders of Wild Ophelia's. They had given an old man a dream come true, gifting him the treasure of pleasure, for most men his age couldn't dream of getting it up, to go at it, to do the in and out, the hanky-panky in the sultry shanty. One night of that was enough to last a lifetime. He quivered, aching for more pleasure, the longer he waited, the more painful he felt. He lived out his war wounds, feeling every blade hit his body, feeling the blades as cold as ice and hot as flame, he shivered, and broke out in a cold sweat, felt empty inside, void, the anquish of emptiness, of nextipi, he felt himself spiraling, into a bottomless pit, where there was no structure, no architecture, no logic he could hold onto, no form, it was formless, without holds, without anything to grip on, he felt himself falling and not falling, flying and not flying, he almost thought he would lose all control of his senses, of reality, that anything he could think would have no meaning, and lose it's meaning, where he looked, lost it's rationality in the process of being. It was the void, he felt nothing. It was a good thing his war wounds gave him pain, it's what brought him back to reality, something to grip onto. To hold onto. He gasped.

"He's awake. Quick, give him some of those black truffles", said Gumdrop Dreams.
Gilvert moaned. He felt an intense hangover unlike a drunk's hangover, but one of opium withdrawal. He saw some scary hallucinations. He saw the faces of those he slain in battle, wailing in pain, he saw the monsters he has fought, coming to life from the edifices of reality, and yet were not there.
"Gil Darling, have some of this". She propped the black sooty gumdrop into his mouth. He retched, coughed, as he chewed it, the ashes puffing from his mouth. Color came to Gil's face, the grimace and madness left his face and eyes, and started to look serene. He felt the pain and withdrawal effects fading away.
"Gil, my Handsome Prince, do you want to do it again"? teased Bunnybutt Kisses.
He rose from bed as a man renewed. The black truffle was doing it's magic.
"Girls, what the slad is this? It tastes like mildew and spores from a subterrean cave."
"Tee hee, thats probably where it came from. You feel better, don't you?". Bunnybutt Kisses was massaging Gilvert while Gumdrop Dreams was doing his nails.
"Yes I do. It tastes awful beyond human comprehension, but wow, it's very curative.". Gilvert beamed.
"Do you want to do it again" whispered Gumdrop Dreams, in a low, sultry tone.
Gilvert knew he had to play his part. He had to fight back the temptation to feel like a super-teenager in bed again.
"Girl, I need to do some business. I have a meeting". It was all Gil could muster to fight back the urge.
Gumdrop Dreams looked at him in wide surprise. Bunnybutt Kisses giggled, her nude body painted all over, scenes of bunnies kissing each others butts.

They helped Gil dress, into his leather pants, silk shirts, and leather cloak. They escored him through the manor. Sounds of loud, uninhibited moans of pleasure were heard past the ornate walls. The place was teeming with hundreds of painted girls, painted in colored chocolates and colored sugars. They had colored wigs, that suited the theme of their skin-plaster of esoteric, exotic chocolate psychotropics. The manor was a palace, posh in velvet tapestries, emroidered tapestries of orgies, of satyrs chasing after nymphs, a common theme to the decor. Likewise, statues of Satyrs chasing after Nymphs was resplendant throughout the halls and rooms. Oil paintings of naked girls shone in the distorted lights from mozaic glass windows. Harps and various musical instruments were played by the girls, singing songs of enchantment. Gilvert almost wept, at the thought of leaving this place, but he needed to see his agent. He felt he had to play the role of a rich merchant, getting on to some urgent business. After all, time is money, and where love is money, the girls of Wild Ophelia understood that too. To each girl he handed them tips as he passed by.

   Gilvert waved goodbye to the girls who gave him a farewell reception, and he threw a fistful of gold coins in the air. He stepped into the ornate coach and slept for the short half hour duration where he arrived in a Farhamington, a market city by the sea that served as a trade center. It was perfect in approximation to the manor that was isolated in the wilderness, which served as a becon to all merchants who had the gold coin. Gilvert trudged to the A Infamy In Court, a well-known tavern that many merchants travelled to experience the latest in jester and acrobatic entertainments while dining on fine cusines inspired by the spices that travelled from all corners of the world. He pretended to drink his beer, not wanting to add any more to his rather still intoxicated chemistry. He felt tired and worn out, but the healing salves on his body and the black truffles worked wonders. A girl in red velvets went up to him and said, "What is yellow, and not yellow?" and Gilvert replied, "A Sunflower".
"I am Valentina, please follow me, Fritz is waiting for you".
Gilvert sighed and nodded. They went up the stairs and Valentina did a secret knock on the door.
"Who is it?"
"Its is your Mistress in distress", said Valentina.
The door opened. "Come in". Fritz was a man in his fifties, with a scar across his cheek, and looked like a chess player devising a winning plan or a war strategist plotting something cunning. He was dressed in all leathers.
"Gil, why did you stop?"
"Fritz.. I can't go on.. I mean, it's not that I can't do it, I mean, wow, their stuff is top-notch, it's beyond anything that the universities studied or even known of".
"Gilvert, it was all explained in the mission briefing on how you were to accomplish and finish the mission".
"Fritz, this stuff they are using, is forbidden knowledge. Its forbidden. It doesn't mean it doesn't exist, it's what the Churches call forbidden knowledge. It's witchcraft, the experiences are occult."
"I know, Gilvert. Theres stuff that science can't explain or cannot explain. This world is old, Gilvert, and it isn't a surprise that this earth, has magic, it has magic that gives humans the ability to use power divined by demons".
"Sigh. Fritz, I don't want to feel their influence. I don't want to associate with demons."
Both Gilvert and Fritz were silent. They both have done many witch-hunting missions, and both have slain many summoned demons. They lived out many nights of hellish nightmares, waking up with cold sweats.
"One must not have fear" said Fritz.
"You are right.. I must pray. Let us pray".
"Yes, Yes, of course".
Both Gilvert and Fritz nodded their heads in prayer, praying hard, intensely.
"Angels, Angels, help me. I feel so.. so.. so.. weird."
"Angel Gabrielle help us, guide us. We are at your mercy. Angel Gabrielle, gaurd us with they wings, give us wisdom". Fritz prayed out loud, raising his hands, looking to the sky, speaking to angels that he felt were there, but no one can see.
Gilvert begged. "Angel Gabrielle, have mercy, on me."
Gilvert was sobbing. "Angels, Angels, Angels" he whispered.
Both were in deep meditation.
"Stay strong. You can do this" said Fritz.
"Alright. Here's the plan. I'm gonna need to flash more gold. I want to talk to the properitress, and inquire about opening another chain of Wild Ophelia and offer to open another of their business for top dollar. This way, I can see their alchemy labs and secrets".
"Gilvert, I like the plan, but it reeks, its gonna be very risky. We have the finances, but it might expose you or make you suspicious. Already you probably have aroused suspicion."
"Well, Im a rich merchant, remember? The market is right outside and I could be buying some shares of currency".
"True, true, I know".
A secret knock at the door. "Who is it".
"Its your little princess".
"Come in". Another girl came in. Valentina was already in the room, spying out the window with a monocle.
"Sir Fritz, I have to report that Gilvert was followed. The spy is downstairs."
"Alright. Gilvert, go to the market and let them follow you. Have them watch you make some bids. Tommorow the currency of the Bulga will increase, so bid on that, buy at least 100,000 gold coins of it. Its all rigged and ready to go." Gilvert nodded, drank a huge pitcher of water, and took his leave. He went to the stalls, and urinated for a long, long time.
He went downstairs, laughed at the sight of the jesters juggling wine cups, letting the wine drop from the top wine in flight to the bottom wine in hand, in a cycle.
Valentina walked by the spy, waved the edge of her cloak on him, and Gilvert noticed, and tipped his pompous velveteen hat with a large white peacock feather.
With that, Gilvert walked outside to the market. It was teeming with life, thousands of merchants offering their wares of anything you could think of to all kinds of stuff you wouldn't get in a village. Miles and miles of tents and wagons of goods for sale. Furs, grain, fruits, meats, fish, pots, ceramics, ores, metals, it was overwhelming, and tens of thousands walked through the market all day and night, haggling and haggling. Many arbitators were staffed to handle violent haggles and were given a fee to determine a fixed price in a haggle. Sometimes the guards were needed in violent haggles, unsatisfactory barters. Seeing dancing girls on a stage made him faint, he fell, wanting to return to Wild Ophelia's for more pleasure. A boy picked him up, "You O.K. Mister?".
"Yes, my lad. Here is a coin". He handed the boy a gold coin.
The boy jumped with joy, and bowed, "Thank you Mister".
Gilvert then trudged to the Square, where a large wall displayed the various prices of currency and the conversion changes.
He saw the Bulga, a large coin from the military city, which was etched with an image of a fortress, for sale. He called out to the staff, and said, "Ill buy as much Bulga as much as my 100,000 Letcher will get".
"Will do, sire". The staff boy brought him a very large bag of Bulga. "Will that be all, sire?"
"Yes, thank you". And with that, Gilvert went back to the A Infamy In Court, and ate a duck dinner with Valentina, and watched the Acrobats do all kinds of balancing acts, standing upside down on each other's heads.
Gilvert then went up to his room with Valentina and fell into a deep sleep, with Valentina on gaurd watch.
Fart. Gilvert farted. Valentina sighed.
"Good morning Sire. Did you sleep well?"
"Ah yes. Ill have breakfast and then go back to Wild Ophelia's".
"No problem. Your bag of Bulga, the value has increased. Each Bulga is worth at least 10 Letcher now. Go and trade it in. Make sure the spy follows you."
"Wow, you guys sure run a good racket here. Does the Acciaioli family know you guys are doing this?"
"Actually, no. They're the ones doing the racket but we know which coins they fix".
"Haha. You?"
Valentina blushed. She nodded.
"You're such a good girl". Gilvert kissed her on the cheek.

 It was Night. As dark night can be, the darkness of night is predictable, we expect night. But tonight, it was nightier than night. Darker than dark. So dark, that it illuminated whatever light source could illuminate. It made light an illusion, a spectre, a phantom. The moon was hidden behind clouds, which cloud? An owl cries in the night. One is blinded by any light source in this darkness, say, a candle. A cat snarls and hisses. Its' eyes glow in the night, it becomes two little moons to the little critters that burrow beneath leaves on the dirt.
Gilvert waved to the rider of the coach. He waved back, but did not leave.
Wild Ophelia was a shroud of darkness itself, like a cloak, and inside that cloak, was faintly glowing painted windows, mozaic windows, that hummed varous colors. A few lamps shone red. The sign was illuminated by a red lamp. The storefront display of truffles in lingerie was lit by red candles.
He was greeted by another sucession of painted girls, holding red candles, with dancing red flames, that gave their faces an errie, red light.
"I am Sunshine Maiden". Rays of golden sun shown from her hair. They were chocolate. She was all golden and yellow.
"I am Nyphette Statue". She was painted in marble-like renderings, very similar to the nymphette statues ostentatiously displayed througout the mansion.
"I am Tasty Ghost". She looked like a ghost, glowing phosphorent, with various candies tied in her hair and what-nots.
"I am Cherry Delight". Real cherries adorned her body.
"I am Minty Mountains". Painted with majestic views of ice-covered mountains, her breasts were mountainious, and one wanted to 'mount' her.
All the girls in the reception kissed Gilvert, and led him into the mansion, throwing rose petals and feeding Gilvert truffles.
It being the weekend, Wild Ophelias was a madhouse. The moans were insane and loud. The musicians played the harps, lyres and flutes, in unsion with the moans of pleasure. Everything was lit by red lamps, red candles. Even the fires in the fireplace glowed an eerie red. Girls ran all over the place, chased by customers. Some dressed like satyrs for the occassion. Laughing maniacally. Gilvert was stoned from the truffles. He had a raging boner, and soon, started to laugh maniacally, and picked up some Satyr horns he found on a table, and put them on, chasing he girls, laughing maniacally, grabbing them, kissing them, fondling them, licking them, pawing their breasts, squeezing their fine butts.
"Oh girls, lets go to my room" he said.
They took him by the arm, to his room, an ornately painted palace, murals of wild orgies, of girls in animal masks doing the thing with satyrs.
"Wow, look at all the Letcher" said Spider Muffin.
"Bags and Bags of it. Did you slay a Dragon for it?", purred Mousey Kitten.
"Why yes I did ladies! I did it for you! I slayed Firespitter the Mean". Gilvert then danced around the room, telling the girls the stories of his slaying Firespitter the Mean. How he did it, how Firespitter fell for his cunning plan that require brains and no brawn.
"Girls, I need to talk to the properitress. I wish to open another Wild Ophelia, thousands and thousands of miles from here".
"I am here, Gilvert. You wish to discuss business?" exclaimed a voice, as of one of expectation, not surprised to be called for, but waiting, for such a beckon. "I am Wild Ophelia, at your service". She looked young, a girl of teenage years, very young, but in her eyes, it could not hide, her true age, for her eyes did not shine innocence, but vicious mischief, and betrayed her true age, which could be very long to anyones guess, perhaps centuries.
A scream, louder than the exalting moans of pleasure, for the moaners delighted in being heard, they wanted to voice out their pleasure, for it was a moan of delight. This scream, was one of pleasure, not of a usual one of pain or horror, but of all combined, a moaning scream, so loud, that it drowned out the din of moans and laughters and bacchantal music.
Wild Ophelia sighed. Her skin was pure white, her dress black, with lingerie a shade of absinthe. Her hair was the color of absinthe. She looked so much the lolita, the jail-bait. "Pardon me, sir. But sometimes, not all customers react to our alchemy the same way. That is the risks one takes, just as one knows the risks of getting drunk, or the risks of taking black market drugs."
"Indeed, Ophelia, I am quite aware of that. I am sure that the price of pleasure was well worth that man's demise".
"It is what he wanted, he signed a Life Expiation Agreement Contract".
"Let me get to the point, and I do mix business with pleasure". Gil chuckled, and Ophelia chuckled in return. "I wish to be in joint business with you, as a partner, to open another Wild Ophelia, way out past the Crowns of Frost."
Ophelia laughed, giggling. "You are not the first, and many have offered vast amounts of treasures, Wild Ophelia is not for sale, nor could I venture to open a joint business with anyone".
"But, but.. " Gil pleaded, "How can those who cannot travel to this part of the world experience much pleasure?"
"Let us come to my office". Ophelia chided. "We can discuss this further." She took Gil by the arm, and led him past the merry revelers in the halls, past bronze statues and drippping erotic fountains, past indoor gardens, orgies of rapture, orgies of inhibition. Gil has wondered that a museum or a castle would have far less tapestries and oil paintings, and of course, far less of erotic ones- for they all were erotic art, posing nudes in a suggestive manner, all kinds of strange sex positions were suggested, all kinds of fetishes and perversities. Finally, they went to a staircase, which led to a lonely penthouse in a secluded wing of the mansion, where gaurds were posted, and bowed to them both.
Fart. Gil farted, and Ophelia giggled. The gaurds did their best not to notice.
Ophelia's room was like bright absinthe, the glass windows shone green, from an unearthly light, for it was night outside. The walls were covered in phosphorent green moss, gilding around the lush ornate paintings and tapestries. Gil noticed, that the girls were making love to something more than a Satyr- it was a devil, with wings, and a long tail. Gilvert shuddered at the thought and looked away. Ophelia's bed was large, as if enough for twenty-something people. Covered in various exotic animal furs, some so exotic with patterns he has never seen.
"Let us discuss business". crooned Ophelia. She laid herself on the bed, as if she was already writhing from sexual pleasure. A girl from nowhere brought chocolates.
"Yes, we do mix pleasure with business". Gil prayed on the inside, hoping he wasn't getting into something too serious.
Ophelia placed a glowing chocolate truffle into Gil's mouth. With that, Gilvert was moaning with pleasure at the taste of it. It was the taste of sex, and with it's taste, brought instant sexual pleasure. It was Rose Orgasm, the truffle was aptly named, and it instantly gave Gilvert a hard boner like a young strapping oak of a man.. or of a satyr. Gilvert felt himself changing, he started to grow horns, and he looked at the ceiling mirror, and saw a satyr in the mirror, as she pounded and pounded away at the lolitasque Ophelia, small and waifish, with long green swamp hair, wailing with pleasure, her moans were loud, and musical, as if she sang the opera singer sang, a opera style of the moan, it was beautiful to hear, and it heightened Gilvert's senses with pleasure. Gilvert kept cumming and pounding and cumming on Ophelia, shagging and shagging the night away. Gilvert was in a trance, and saw, visions, of Satyrs running afer nymphs in a lush forest, filled with gardens of howling excatsy, of a romp, a forest filled with hundreds of nymphs.. he saw the visions, and saw himself transfigured, running after the forest nymphs, shagging them, one after one, by the hundreds, and with each one he shagged, he was shagging Ophelia. Gilvert couldn't believe his eyes, as he looked at the ceiling mirror in between his pyschedelic visions. He saw his Satyr form shag this little nymphette, he felt pleasure that was indescribable, that was so heavenly, so healing, that he felt he was reborn, refreshed, a new man, birthed out of orgasm, birthted out of the new womb of pleasure, with each inch and stroke of his cock thrusting into Ophelias wet tight pussy and loving mouth, he felt that it was the creation of the world, a creation of a new universe, as if it all started with one shag, and that one shag created many shags. That shagging created shagging. He could see stars and nebulae and galaxies form out of the cum he sprayed all over Ophelia. She was the universe, and with each cum droplet became a star, a planet, a galaxy. The cum dripping on her face formed into milky ways that formed our galaxy. She became Terra, a planet hospitable to life, and the cum dripping on her became air and water, and plants grew and animals lived, where talking bears gathered to play Honey Bingo, where talking rabbits gathered to play dice for carrots. As each cum star shone on her face, flowers grew and the talking bees danced in a circle, the talking butterflies kissed each other and the flowers spoke and kissed each other as well. As Ophelia would open her eyes, staring at Gilverts largely engrossed member in her mouth, the cum on her face formed galaxies and galaxies that revealed to Gil strange new worlds to explore, to sexplore. Gilvert felt he was cumming out life to the Universe, and Ophelia was giving life to the Universe by receiving his cum, tasting it and wearing it as one would wear pearl as jewels. The orgasms that Ophelia and Gilvert had, was the orgasms of the Universe shagging, kissing, love-making. The talking bears danced in circles, holding each other's hands. An Unicorn galloped throughout the darkness, squirting rainbows of cum among the stars. The dancing bears walked on these rainbows, so they could see the Universe as tourists and take polaroid pictures. A pink flamingo crooned a song:

Don't get too misty eyed
Don't let it get to you
You know it'll be all over
all too soon
all too soon

The Owls cry in the Night
over burning forest
where the deer flees in flight
under the moon
under the moon

Let the Knight have it's Day
with Sword held proudly
before Death has it's say
feel the doom
feel the doom

Fair Maiden drops a glove
gives a discreet wink
always looking for love
she wants it lewd
she wants it lewd

   Gilvert awoke, feeling intense pleasure, he felt a high of no return, a road where one cannot turn back. The road that goes ever on and on. Gilvert knew it was too late. He was going somewhere and he didn't like it. Somewhere with this high, with this altered state he was in. He knew he couldn't be sober again. He looked at the ceiling mirror, and saw his satyr form. He was piquied. He had an intense drive for more sex, for more pleasure, and he knew this was it. He knew he could never stop shagging, never stop fucking. He do something before it was too late. Violently horny, Gilvert had to do something, for he was horny at the point of no return. He was Satyr, and he felt he could never be human again. He decided to awaken Ophelia.
"Ophelia my dear" He touched Ophelia's tight ass, and began to kiss it. She began to stir, her absinthe swamp green hair flowing with a life of it's own.
"Ah, my handsome Gilvert. You were wonderful".
It was too late already. Gilvert was munching on Ophelias nice tight ass and tasty pussy. Ophelia began moaning in delight. And thus, another magical lovemaking session of psychedelic visions of satyrs and nymphs and the universe and dancing bears and a unicorn cumming rainbows.
Gilvert become more disoriented, and started to lose his ego in the process, losing his identity, his memories. He couldn't remember who he was, or what his careers were, or any of his adventures. All he could think of is sex. All he could think of was sex and sexual fantasies, and could only feel that he could function in life as only a flamoyant casanova, a lusty bed ninja.

   Fart. Gilvert farted. "Oh yeah, that reminds me. I wanted to build another Wild Ophelia".
"There cannot be another one on this planet, my dear Gil."
"Well I could build a brothel on my own, I could build a-" Gilvert began to weep. "I could never leave you, Ophelia! I could never leave this place"!
"There, there my dear. Now you understand.". Ophelia hugged and consoled Gilvert, who was weeping at the mere thought of leaving Ophelia or her place.
"I will never leave you Ophelia" Gilvert sobbed. "I will never, never, leave this place".
"Yes, Gilvert, you shall stay with us."
"All that Letcher, the 1,000,000 Letcher, is yours, Ophelia. I am yours, Ophelia."
"Yes, Gilvert, you have paid, you are now a permanent resident of Wild Ophelia, where you shall spend all your days in rapture, shagging and shagging".
"I love you, Ophelia. I love you insanely". Gilvert growled.
"I love you too, Gilvert... Gil, I have a place to run, I am the properitress here".
"No, I must have you now!" Gilvert growled, he was a very horny satyr.
"Later Gilvert. I have hundreds of girls to manage here. Ill see you soon, Gilvert. Here, all the girls are yours, so now, play with them.".
Gilvert started to weep, whining and whimpering like a begging animal. He got on his knees and was kissing Ophelia's feet, her legs, her knees, her pussy, her tight ass..
"Gilvert, I will call you when I am ready." and with that she left, her absinthe green hair flowing with a life of it's own.
Gil was howling, his satyr form was howling like a horny animal. His cock was raging and hard.

   He went out of Ophelias room, to an indoor garden, where he found many girls, and began to shag them, like a wild bunny in heat. He howled with pleasure. The girls brought him many lingerie pillows of truffles, and he ate them greedily, wanting more and more chocolate truffles, spiked with marijuana, spiked with opium, spiked with many unknown psychotropics that brought unknown highs of delight. He kept shagging, shagging. He shagged the girls, he shagged Pink Deer (a girl), he shagged Lady Knight, he shagged Lady on the Moon, he shagged Beautiful Goblin, he shagged Naughy Ninja, he shagged Viking Valkyrie, he shagged Creepy Cherub, he shagged Treewoman, he shagged Pretty Troll, he shagged Cute Wraith, he shagged and shagged in the indoor garden, and gorged himself chocolates of evil among flowers of evil.

   Fart. Gilvert farted. He came to his senses for a second and remembered his mission. Without hestitation, he went to the erotic library, where, no one was reading, but shagging, and when he thought no one was looking, he pulled on the copy of "Our Fair Lady of Malconent" and the library bookcase swung open, and he went inside. He could tell where the library case opened, because it had the least dust, and the "Our fair Lady of Malconent" was not covered with dust, but had finger prints on it. His Satyr senses were heightened, and he could smell and feel a tunnel behind the bookcase. He could feel the drugs he wanted was down below, where he could get more. His satyr senses gave him a sense of direction, a sense of direction for more pleasure, a drug-divination where one uses addiction to find more of the drug. He pranced down the stairwell, hoping that no one has seen him open the bookcase, for he knew they were too intoxicated and too out of reality to even notice what he was doing, or even care. There were no gaurds in the library. The stairwell was all pitch black, but Gilvert could see in the dark with his satyr senses. He could make out any detail if he wanted to. He snuck carefully, when he approached the laboratory. It was filled, from wall to wall, tons of shelves of jars and jars of rare speciments of plants, essensces, botanicals, flowers, bulbs, seeds, lichen, mosses, roots, from all parts of the world. Being fairly large, the laboratory was a huge storeroom of the rarest psychotropic plants that could create the most powerful psychedelic trips, some that are rather poisonous and toxic, and would gauranteed produce some very scary bad trips, some that are rather unknown to the science world. Wild Ophelia has a staff to travel to the far reaches of the planet, to find whatever her alchemical pot needed. Glass vials and glass tubes of many sizes were laid out on a table, with many instruments an alchemist needed. Several laboratory staff where busy, immersed in their work to notice him. Gilvert's satyr senses told him where some drugs he craved were, but he fought hard to ignore them for the time being, to investigate. He sneaked around the laboratory, sneaking past the staff, to the door, where he went even more downstairs, a very long, long spiral downstairs, which seemed to go on many, many floors beneath the surface. He had to use his lockpicks to get past this door, for inside, was an altar to some long-forgotten false god, a devil, of which wasn't in any of Gilvert's witch-hunting beastiaries, or any demonologist's tome. It was nasty, for some reason, no matter what form it could take, for it looked like a normal devil, but no matter what form it was, it was nasty, disgusting, repulsive. Just to look at it made Gilvert shudder with repulsion, with disgust. He couldn't look at it without feeling so base, so vile, so disgusted. He couldn't imagine why, just to look at a statue of some devil, made him feel so freaked out, overwhelmed. Even in his satyr form, he was still human, and he had a spirit, and he could feel to the extent of his being, of some strong pull of something so creepy about the statue he looked at. He ran back up the stairs, and crept past the laboratory, back into the library, where he found Wild Ophelia, with her gaurds. She stared at him angrily, as if she felt betrayed, fooled.
"Ophelia! I wanted to get high! There was more of those nuggets downstairs".
"Everything you need to get high is up here, Gil!"
Gilvert started weeping. "I thought that since I gave you 1,000,000 letcher, I could walk roam about freely".
"You thought correct, Gilvert. You did pay your price for your stay here. However, there are rules of conduct. You must ask permission".
"I love you insanely, Ophelia." Gil got on his knees, and started kissing Ophelia's feet.
"Gilvert, you must visit me later tonight, after the girls feed you certain chocolates. We shall have a ceremony and you are involved." With that, Ophelia turned and left, while the gaurds remained. The girls taunted and teased Gilvert, coaxing him to a passionate orgy session in the library, while the guards stood, watching. He was fed tons of truffles, he ate them off the girls bodies and butts, munching the girls butts, licking the chocolate paint from their tight bottoms, from their legs, from their breasts. Crews of artists came in to paint the diadoramas on the girls where Gilvert licked. Gilvert howled, he felt so high, it was the high of no return, more and more he could get higher and higher, hornier and hornier, and he kept on orgasming, orgasming, spraying torrents of cum on the girls, and kept on shagging and shagging and shagging and shagging, he saw visions of Satyrs running after Nymphs in an ancient forest, that somehow became the universe giving birth to itself through it's intercourse, the galaxianas recieved his milky way of cum and new worlds were created. Each sperm was a star, and the spray of jism was a milky way in the galaxy. He saw gumdrop visions of sugarplum bears dancing on rainbows that came from a Unicorn's penis.

   Ophelia entered the room with the gaurds. "Its time" she said. "Give Gilvert a bath, and feed him some of the Rose Orgasm truffles". The guards and girls led Gil to a room, a large open bath, that had natural hot spring water flowing in marble pools of posh ornate intracity. A waterfall from the ceiling went down a wall, to cool heads. Tons of girls rinsed themselves off under the waterfall and then entered pools of hot springs. The girls lathered Gil in lather, making him more hornier than ever. They dried him and dressed him in fine silks, and perfumed him. They took him to a feast, where he gorged on duck, vension, bison, buffalo, boar, fruits and veggies. He drank fine wine like it was water. The dining room was filled with succulent dishes like a King's feast, everyday. Gilvert was happy, horny, and losing every sense of his identity. He was an satyr, an animal that only knew, think, and could do only one thing: Shagging. Gilvert grunted and growled, and howled.

   Gilvert was led by the guards and girls, the girls threw rose petals everywhere, singing songs of enchantment. They sang ribald, raunchy songs, filled with dirty epiteths. They led the rabid, horny Gil to a great hall, where on a stage was a big bed, filled with the most expensive silks and velvets, and strange furs that felt smoother than slime. The girls all lined up like a choir, and in the center of the bed was Ophelia, in some ceremonial robe. They all held a musical instrument, from harps, lyres, cymbals, clappers, timpanis, various drums, sitars, They sang:

Oh Horny One, with each step of hoofprint
engorge wood nymph with thy cock
each stroke is a message sent
from angels who want to rock

Oh Horny One, each sperm is a star
of a glittery milky way
adorning a nymph's face like a spark
that gets a galaxy shining bright day

Oh Horny One, life is shag, shag is life
the hourglass and candle is not Father Time
but the cock, that hardens and sprays life
to be alive is to be horny, full of slime

Oh Horny One, make mildew in the garden
pollinate every flower and make cum glyphs
you are the one who dominates fair maiden
you are the one who shags crazed nymphs

  Gilvert danced among the girls as they sang this song, and he would grab them, kiss them, fondle them, lick them, lick their pussies and fine tight butts, squeeze their boobies, as he made his way to the bed. He was very horny, and Ophelia waited, on the bed, her absinthe hair flowing in the air with a life of it's own. Gilvert tore off Ophelia's robe, as if it was made of nothing, and began to shag her like an Satyr in Heat. He howled, howled, howled and the girls sang the song, in a loop, loudly as they could, banging on their instruments, and their pussies were dripping wet. They have taken the truffle Esmeralda's Emerald, a truffle that causes girls to have rapid orgasms. The sexual fury of orgasms as they sang, they sang orgasming, moaning and singing, their instruments moving at the beat of sex, at the beat of orgasm. Their rythmn sounded like shagging. Ophelia moaned, her absinthe hair flowing and pulsating with each orgasm, moving with pleasure, as if a life of their own. She was fully drenched in Gilvert's cum, soaked, and they kept on going, shagging, shagging, shagging. Gilvert was howling with orgasms, and he could see himself fly, from the room, from the mansion, from the roof, from the dark pitch black forest, past the clouds, and he saw the girls, flying, and he started shagging them as he flew with them, an orgy in flight. He felt intense pleasure, more than he could feel before. It was beyond sensual pleasure. It was beyond physical capacity to feel this pleasure that he felt. It was heaven. He flew among the girls, and Ophelia, in a orgastic embrace, where each touch caused an orgasm, so vibrant, like an exilir of the gods. They flew from Terra, and Gil could see the stars and the universe beyond. He saw angels with many wings and horns, with faces that changed form and persona rapidly, flying around them, and he could see endless sea of dragons flying around them, and higher and higher they flew, to some strange structure in the galaxy, made of so many tinkered gadgets of strange, lost technologies, they flickered and ebbed, and formed some sort of structure, and they flew and flew, past more angels and dragons, past monolithic structures of esoteric shapes that loomed on and on, Gil was beyond dazed, for he saw galaxies and planets and universes, and he kept on shagging, shagging as he flew. Soon they soared, to somewhere so pitch black, so dark, light could not enter. It was the void, a bottomless pit. From this darkness was a girl, with wings, beckoning Gilvert to her. She was beautiful, so beautiful she shone such beauty, so radiant.
"Gilvert, come to me, come to me, make love to me".  The sentient angel spoke.
"Demon, go away in the name of Angel Gabrielle". spoke Gilvert, harshly. He was changed from a Satyr to an avatar of the Angel Gabrielle himself. He was wearing a pendant that shone brightly, of a torn wing, and he held a sword, of light, and it was blinding the entire void.
"How dare you!!" shouted the demon. It was no longer a beautiful female angel. It was a disgusting devil, that looked like the disgusting devil statue in the catacombs of Wild Ophelia's. It snarled in rage, and flew to slay Gil, but Gil, with his sword, fended off the attack, and with a swift counter, slain the demon.
And with that, Gilvert awoke in his human form, just after smashing the devil statue in the catacomb. The girls were sobbing, Ophelia was sobbing, as they ran after him from the great hall, for he ran from his lovemaking to the library, through the labatoratories, and smashed the statue.
"What have you done, Gil??" screamed Ophelia.
"What I should have done sooner". Gil was back to normal. He was no longer a Satyr, but a handsome seventy-seven year old secret agent for the King.  "My darling Ophelia, It is what it is, and not what it isn't. Don't you see, it's legal for you to do your business. I simply slain some monster, that is all".
'It gave me power. The power of eternal youth. I have lived here on Terra for more than several thousand years, and all those years, I have fucked and fucked, and known pleasure. I have lived countless centuries of pleasure, and nothing else. And yet, Gilvert, you were the best I've ever had in bed." Ophelia was crying. "Thank you, Gil. I wanted so much to separate my ties with that demon. I wanted to sever the contract that binded me to that creepy demon. Now, that you, Gil, was the best man I've ever had in bed, I can live like a normal person, with contentment, satisfaction, and die a normal death of old age". She kissed Gil, kissing him madly, and all the girls were applauding. They hailed him as a hero, showering him with gems, with jewels, kissing him, sucking him off, kissing his behind, asking for his autograph. Gilvert was the savior of Wild Ophelias, and he has slain an ancient evil. He has prevented this demon from entering the portal on Terra, for it was due in time. The artists of Wild Ophelia painted many oils of Gilvert, to adorn the walls, he had a permanent home there, and he married Ophelia, and they both ran the Wild Ophelia bordello for the rest of their lives.

The End.

Operation Wild Ophelia

Side Quest:

 Operation Wild Ophelia

 Gilvert was 77 years old, quite elderly for a spy, he was sent to watch a cleric of St. Peter, in an adventuring party

whose quest it was to bring supplies to a town quarantined by the Plague. Gilbert was rather peturbed, for he heard the

distinct bird call of a do-do bird, and knew he had leave the party, and leave his mission for the time being. He walked

in the direction of the bird call, and saw a light from a mirror flashing out a code from the mountain, G-I-L-B-E-R-T. He

trudged up the mountain, and saw a campire, where an agent was feasting on some goat.
"Could you camp somewhere more decent?" gasped Gilbert, a bit dazed from the climb.
"When I saw you walking I started flashing the light. I was afraid the whole forest would walk here". The agent was a

young lad, just older than manhood.
"That is a directional mirror it only strikes light exactly where you point it" said Gilbert.
"You sure know your stuff. Been a spy long?" said the lad.
"Longer than my age." Gilbert picked up a goat leg and started munching on it.
"Lets get to the point. I'm Ataurd, by the way. We've got a emergency protocol here, the higher ups want you to

investigate what they call a "Pit and Pendulum Alert".
"Its that bad? I'm sladding 77 years old for christ sake. I feel every wound and every scar on my body."
"They think you're the perfect man for the job".
"Spit it out, what the slad is it?" Gilbert was impatient. He wanted to know what was more important than bringing

provisions to thousands of starving, dying plague victims, even more important than the possiblity of saving them and

finding a cure.
"Its Wild Ophelia".
"Wild Ophelia? No shit you're kidding me? I've heard of that place. Haven't been there, but I actually planned to!".

Gilbert laughs.
"So you know what Wild Ophelia is?"
"Yes, it's a Chocolatier and Bordello. I've been wanting to visit that place sometime. Even retire there." Gilbert shakes

his head in laughter, as if he was entertaining himself and getting a kick out of his self-conscious sense of humor.
"Well, here's your chance. You gotta go to Wild Ophelia and be a customer. Eat their Truffles, their chocolates, bed their

women, but.. well, sigh.. ok Gil, here's the deal. Check out these drawings."
"What the Slaaaaaad is that????".
"Yeah, you gotta slaaaaaaay that. Get rid of it"....."Please"..
"So, all these customers are dying at Ophelias?" Gilbert was reading the mission briefing notes, the drawings and

illustrations.
"Yeah, theres some strange kick. Customers are actually paying a lot of money to die at Wild Ophelia's".
"Wait a minute... I'm a old fart, you little shit! How in the flying fuck am I going to slay that?"
"Read the next page"... Gilbert sighs and checks it out.
"Oh yeah...... sure thing here in Alluvium, we all get more expendible with our lives so easy. I always thought life is

precious, it isn't a toy".
"Here's a big bag of gold. Be sure to spend it all in one place: Wild Ophelia's".
"I sure fucking will you little shit" and with that Gilbert howled with laughter.

  Gilbert sat in the coach, dozing off from nimble slumber to taking peeks out the door to see if he was followed or

attacked by any persuers. For an old man, he needed his rest, and hoped to get it. One of the perks of being a spy, was

the rather unlimited budget he had, his coach buggy was luxurious, lined with gilded velvet and ornate designs of cherubs,

with an oval oil painting on the ceiling, of angels soaring in the heavens. A little shelf held an assortment of liquors

and ales. Gilbert chuckled and said, "Why not?" and had a glass of whiskey. There were some ice still left in the ice box.

Another shelf had an assortment of books.
The carriage has come to an abrupt stop, and Gilbert spilled his drink. "Slad".


"Oh Handsome fella! We are so graced by your generous presence". A rather demure girl stuck her head through the carriage

door, her face covered in body paint of the night. Her hair was dyed colors of the night sky, with silver stars sewn into

her bangs, silver stars painted on her skin, and that is all she wore.
"I am Midnight Rose, I am here to-"
another girl stuck her face in, "I am Crying Angel". She had wings, halo, with dark tears strewn down her cheeks. Not much

else is covering her body.
"I am Serene Dusk" She had an ornate scene of the sun settling down painted between her eyes, and also settling down

between other horizons of her curves.
"I am Lush Garden"
"I am Moon Mermaid"
A succession of painted girls were outside the posh coach, eager to recieve their guest, holding baskets of chocolates and

thowing rose petals in his path. The girls kissed Gilbert's cheeks and lips, his hands, his robe, each girl introducing

themselves with their fancy names, fondling Gilbert, giving him hugs and bring him closer to the door, of Wild Ophelia's.

Not your typical tavern, but a rather dashing manor, painted in dark purple, maroon colors, covered with a demure moss

that gave the building a life of its own. It had a storefront window displaying chocolates in little boxes made of various

colors of lingerie. A sign near the door read Wild Ophelia, with a girl with her hair in many directions but in a pleasing

manner, to depict the title in such whimsy.
The parlor was like a chocolate store, with many glass cases of many chocolate truffles of various colors and many

dustings of various colors, some glowed and were phosphorent, some had crystals that shone and flickered many lights, some

were rather dark and sooty as if covered in black ash.
"Ladies, it is a tremendous pleasure to meet you all". Gilbert was beaming. He could not hide his joy. He had no reason

to, for he was like a little kid in a candy store with a sack of money, literally. He felt that way. This was his favorite

mission. "With all the marvelous chocolates here, you girls will have to recommend your favorites". He smiled deep and

wide, baring teeth, ogling the girls with his lustful eyes. He couldn't take his hands off the lucious bottoms of the

girls, so one of the girls brought him a truffle, and fed it to his mouth.
Oh, it was lucid joy. The rapture. Marvelous malcontention, Gilbert sensed he was getting high. He kept feeling pleasure,

as if he was having sex. A boner raged in his leather pants, and he startled for a minute. A boner?? He was wide-eyed. He

threw out a fistful of gold coins in the air, and laughed insanely. The girls laughed with him, and brought him to his

penthouse room, a lavish room filled with velvet tapestries, pillows, exotic animal rugs, and Gilbert, tore off his silk

garbs, and started pawing the girls, licking their bodies. He tasted chocolate and sugars on them, for they were painted

with colored chocolates, colored sugars. He licked them and they licked him in return, covering him in chocolate syrups,

and all forms of lovemaking were done to the fullest. Gilbert has never felt this before. As far as he couldn't remember,

his youthful days he has never felt this pleasure when shagging the girls of the streets. He could go at it over and over.

His boner was strong, youthful, and kept on going. He felt pleasure like he has never felt before. He couldn't believe it.

Tears streamed down his eyes. How could an old man like him, do something hes never even done in his days of ribald youth

as a Casanova Spy? The chocolates has given him sexual stamina that is superhuman. He ate and ate truffle after truffle.

Some were spiked with marijuana, spiked with opium, and other various things he's never heard of or thought even existed.

He could go on and on forever, and it was getting late. Almost a whole day has passed, and the girls kept coming in, more

than 50 girls already. The rugs were filled with chocolate, the beds, the pillows, of passionate, powerful love-making.

Gilbert sensed danger. He had to stop. He couldn't and he had to, he had to get back to his senses. Intoxicated beyond

comprehension, delighfully stoned, high beyond high, drunk beyond drunk, Gilbert was quibbling, drooling, orgasming,

orgasming, orgasming, orgasming..

"Girls, girls.. "
"Gilbert, you want to stop already? It's only been a day?"
"Oh".. "Oh.." "Ooooohhh".. Gilber was still orgasming. "Girls, Girls, this place is messy, lets take a break".
With that, Gilbert fell asleep, orgasming while sleeping. He orgasmed in his sleep, dreaming psychedelic dreams of

otherworldly orgies, if they haven't been otherworldly already.

  It was night. Gilbert slept for at least a day, exhausted, coming down from the powerful sexual aphrodesiacs, shaman

psychotropics, and various herbs. He felt so weak, and so shriveled, and felt withrdrawal effects so painful that he

almost wanted to die to in order to avoid the anquish, the mental and physical torment, his member hurt, in intense pain,

but he felt it covered with a soothing salve, that was cooling it and healing it in restoration. He wondered if he could

ever use it again, he wondered at the alchemical wonders of Wild Ophelia's. They had given an old man a dream come true,

gifting him the treasure of pleasure, for most men his age couldn't dream of getting it up, to go at it, to do the in and

out, the hanky-panky in the sultry shanty. One night of that was enough to last a lifetime. He quivered, aching for more

pleasure, the longer he waited, the more painful he felt. He lived out his war wounds, feeling every blade hit his body,

feeling the blades as cold as ice and hot as flame, he shivered, and broke out in a cold sweat, felt empty inside, void,

the anquish of emptiness, of nextipi, he felt himself spiraling, into a bottomless pit, where there was no structure, no

architecture, no logic he could hold onto, no form, it was formless, without holds, without anything to grip on, he felt

himself falling and not falling, flying and not flying, he almost thought he would lose all control of his senses, of

reality, that anything he could think would have no meaning, and lose it's meaning, where he looked, lost it's rationality

in the process of being. It was the void, he felt nothing. It was a good thing his war wounds gave him pain, it's what

brought him back to reality, something to grip onto. To hold onto. He gasped.

"He's awake. Quick, give him some of those black truffles", said Gumdrop Dreams.
Gilbert moaned. He felt an intense hangover unlike a drunk's hangover, but one of opium withdrawal. He saw some scary

hallucinations. He saw the faces of those he slain in battle, wailing in pain, he saw the monsters he has fought, coming

to life from the edifices of reality, and yet were not there.
"Gil Darling, have some of this". She propped the black sooty gumdrop into his mouth. He retched, coughed, as he chewed

it, the ashes puffing from his mouth. Color came to Gil's face, the grimace and madness left his face and eyes, and

started to look serene. He felt the pain and withdrawal effects fading away.
"Gil, my Handsome Prince, do you want to do it again"? teased Bunnybutt Kisses.
He rose from bed as a man renewed. The black truffle was doing it's magic.
"Girls, what the slad is this? It tastes like mildew and spores from a subterrean cave."
"Tee hee, thats probably where it came from. You feel better, don't you?". Bunnybutt Kisses was massaging Gilbert while

Gumdrop Dreams was doing his nails.
"Yes I do. It tastes awful beyond human comprehension, but wow, it's very curative.". Gilbert beamed.
"Do you want to do it again" whispered Gumdrop Dreams, in a low, sultry tone.
Gilbert knew he had to play his part. He had to fight back the temptation to feel like a super-teenager in bed again.
"Girl, I need to do some business. I have a meeting". It was all Gil could muster to fight back the urge.
Gumdrop Dreams looked at him in wide surprise. Bunnybutt Kisses giggled, her nude body painted all over, scenes of bunnies

kissing each others butts.

They helped Gil dress, into his leather pants, silk shirts, and leather cloak. They escored him through the manor. Sounds

of loud, uninhibited moans of pleasure were heard past the ornate walls. The place was teeming with hundreds of painted

girls, painted in colored chocolates and colored sugars. They had colored wigs, that suited the theme of their skin-

plaster of esoteric, exotic chocolate psychotropics. The manor was a palace, posh in velvet tapestries, emroidered

tapestries of orgies, of satyrs chasing after nymphs, a common theme to the decor. Likewise, statues of Satyrs chasing

after Nymphs was resplendant throughout the halls and rooms. Oil paintings of naked girls shone in the distorted lights

from mozaic glass windows. Harps and various musical instruments were played by the girls, singing songs of enchantment.

Gilbert almost wept, at the thought of leaving this place, but he needed to see his agent. He felt he had to play the role

of a rich merchant, getting on to some urgent business. After all, time is money, and where love is money, the girls of

Wild Ophelia understood that too. To each girl he handed them tips as he passed by.

   Gilbert waved goodbye to the girls who gave him a farewell reception, and he threw a fistful of gold coins in the air.

He stepped into the ornate coach and slept for the short half hour duration where he arrived in a Farhamington, a market

city by the sea that served as a trade center. It was perfect in approximation to the manor that was isolated in the

wilderness, which served as a becon to all merchants who had the gold coin. Gilbert trudged to the A Infamy In Court, a

well-known tavern that many merchants travelled to experience the latest in jester and acrobatic entertainments while

dining on fine cusines inspired by the spices that travelled from all corners of the world. He pretended to drink his

beer, not wanting to add any more to his rather still intoxicated chemistry. He felt tired and worn out, but the healing

salves on his body and the black truffles worked wonders. A girl in red velvets went up to him and said, "What is yellow,

and not yellow?" and Gilbert replied, "A Sunflower".
"I am Valentina, please follow me, Fritz is waiting for you".
Gilbert sighed and nodded. They went up the stairs and Valentina did a secret knock on the door.
"Who is it?"
"Its is your Mistress in distress", said Valentina.
The door opened. "Come in". Fritz was a man in his fifties, with a scar across his cheek, and looked like a chess player

devising a winning plan or a war strategist plotting something cunning. He was dressed in all leathers.
"Gil, why did you stop?"
"Fritz.. I can't go on.. I mean, it's not that I can't do it, I mean, wow, their stuff is top-notch, it's beyond anything

that the universities studied or even known of".
"Gilbert, it was all explained in the mission briefing on how you were to accomplish and finish the mission".
"Fritz, this stuff they are using, is forbidden knowledge. Its forbidden. It doesn't mean it doesn't exist, it's what the

Churches call forbidden knowledge. It's witchcraft, the experiences are occult."
"I know, Gilbert. Theres stuff that science can't explain or cannot explain. This world is old, Gilbert, and it isn't a

surprise that this earth, has magic, it has magic that gives humans the ability to use power divined by demons".
"Sigh. Fritz, I don't want to feel their influence. I don't want to associate with demons."
Both Gilbert and Fritz were silent. They both have done many witch-hunting missions, and both have slain many summoned

demons. They lived out many nights of hellish nightmares, waking up with cold sweats.
"One must not have fear" said Fritz.
"You are right.. I must pray. Let us pray".
"Yes, Yes, of course".
Both Gilbert and Fritz nodded their heads in prayer, praying hard, intensely.
"Angels, Angels, help me. I feel so.. so.. so.. weird."
"Angel Gabrielle help us, guide us. We are at your mercy. Angel Gabrielle, gaurd us with they wings, give us wisdom".

Fritz prayed out loud, raising his hands, looking to the sky, speaking to angels that he felt were there, but no one can

see.
Gilbert begged. "Angel Gabrielle, have mercy, on me."
Gilbert was sobbing. "Angels, Angels, Angels" he whispered.
Both were in deep meditation.
"Stay strong. You can do this" said Fritz.
"Alright. Here's the plan. I'm gonna need to flash more gold. I want to talk to the properitress, and inquire about

opening another chain of Wild Ophelia and offer to open another of their business for top dollar. This way, I can see

their alchemy labs and secrets".
"Gilbert, I like the plan, but it reeks, its gonna be very risky. We have the finances, but it might expose you or make

you suspicious. Already you probably have aroused suspicion."
"Well, Im a rich merchant, remember? The market is right outside and I could be buying some shares of currency".
"True, true, I know".
A secret knock at the door. "Who is it".
"Its your little princess".
"Come in". Another girl came in. Valentina was already in the room, spying out the window with a monocle.
"Sir Fritz, I have to report that Gilbert was followed. The spy is downstairs."
"Alright. Gilbert, go to the market and let them follow you. Have them watch you make some bids. Tommorow the currency of

the Bulga will increase, so bid on that, buy at least 100,000 gold coins of it. Its all rigged and ready to go." Gilbert

nodded, drank a huge pitcher of water, and took his leave. He went to the stalls, and urinated for a long, long time.
He went downstairs, laughed at the sight of the jesters juggling wine cups, letting the wine drop from the top wine in

flight to the bottom wine in hand, in a cycle.
Valentina walked by the spy, waved the edge of her cloak on him, and Gilbert noticed, and tipped his pompous velveteen hat

with a large white peacock feather.
With that, Gilbert walked outside to the market. It was teeming with life, thousands of merchants offering their wares of

anything you could think of to all kinds of stuff you wouldn't get in a village. Miles and miles of tents and wagons of

goods for sale. Furs, grain, fruits, meats, fish, pots, ceramics, ores, metals, it was overwhelming, and tens of thousands

walked through the market all day and night, haggling and haggling. Many arbitators were staffed to handle violent haggles

and were given a fee to determine a fixed price in a haggle. Sometimes the guards were needed in violent haggles,

unsatisfactory barters. Seeing dancing girls on a stage made him faint, he fell, wanting to return to Wild Ophelia's for

more pleasure. A boy picked him up, "You O.K. Mister?".
"Yes, my lad. Here is a coin". He handed the boy a gold coin.
The boy jumped with joy, and bowed, "Thank you Mister".
Gilbert then trudged to the Square, where a large wall displayed the various prices of currency and the conversion

changes.
He saw the Bulga, a large coin from the military city, which was etched with an image of a fortress, for sale. He called

out to the staff, and said, "Ill buy as much Bulga as much as my 100,000 Letcher will get".
"Will do, sire". The staff boy brought him a very large bag of Bulga. "Will that be all, sire?"
"Yes, thank you". And with that, Gilbert went back to the A Infamy In Court, and ate a duck dinner with Valentina, and

watched the Acrobats do all kinds of balancing acts, standing upside down on each other's heads.
Gilbert then went up to his room with Valentina and fell into a deep sleep, with Valentina on gaurd watch.
Fart. Gilbert farted. Valentina sighed.
"Good morning Sire. Did you sleep well?"
"Ah yes. Ill have breakfast and then go back to Wild Ophelia's".
"No problem. Your bag of Bulga, the value has increased. Each Bulga is worth at least 10 Letcher now. Go and trade it in.

Make sure the spy follows you."
"Wow, you guys sure run a good racket here. Does the Acciaioli family know you guys are doing this?"
"Actually, no. They're the ones doing the racket but we know which coins they fix".
"Haha. You?"
Valentina blushed. She nodded.
"You're such a good girl". Gilbert kissed her on the cheek.

 It was Night. As dark night can be, the darkness of night is predictable, we expect night. But tonight, it was nightier

than night. Darker than dark. So dark, that it illuminated whatever light source could illuminate. It made light an

illusion, a spectre, a phantom. The moon was hidden behind clouds, which cloud? An owl cries in the night. One is blinded

by any light source in this darkness, say, a candle. A cat snarls and hisses. Its' eyes glow in the night, it becomes two

little moons to the little critters that burrow beneath leaves on the dirt.
Gilbert waved to the rider of the coach. He waved back, but did not leave.
Wild Ophelia was a shroud of darkness itself, like a cloak, and inside that cloak, was faintly glowing painted windows,

mozaic windows, that hummed varous colors. A few lamps shone red. The sign was illuminated by a red lamp. The storefront

display of truffles in lingerie was lit by red candles.
He was greeted by another sucession of painted girls, holding red candles, with dancing red flames, that gave their faces

an errie, red light.
"I am Sunshine Maiden". Rays of golden sun shown from her hair. They were chocolate. She was all golden and yellow.
"I am Nyphette Statue". She was painted in marble-like renderings, very similar to the nymphette statues ostentatiously

displayed througout the mansion.
"I am Tasty Ghost". She looked like a ghost, glowing phosphorent, with various candies tied in her hair and what-nots.
"I am Cherry Delight". Real cherries adorned her body.
"I am Minty Mountains". Painted with majestic views of ice-covered mountains, her breasts were mountainious, and one

wanted to 'mount' her.
All the girls in the reception kissed Gilbert, and led him into the mansion, throwing rose petals and feeding Gilbert

truffles.
It being the weekend, Wild Ophelias was a madhouse. The moans were insane and loud. The musicians played the harps, lyres

and flutes, in unsion with the moans of pleasure. Everything was lit by red lamps, red candles. Even the fires in the

fireplace glowed an eerie red. Girls ran all over the place, chased by customers. Some dressed like satyrs for the

occassion. Laughing maniacally. Gilbert was stoned from the truffles. He had a raging boner, and soon, started to laugh

maniacally, and picked up some Satyr horns he found on a table, and put them on, chasing he girls, laughing maniacally,

grabbing them, kissing them, fondling them, licking them, pawing their breasts, squeezing their fine butts.
"Oh girls, lets go to my room" he said.
They took him by the arm, to his room, an ornately painted palace, murals of wild orgies, of girls in animal masks doing

the thing with satyrs.
"Wow, look at all the Letcher" said Spider Muffin.
"Bags and Bags of it. Did you slay a Dragon for it?", purred Mousey Kitten.
"Why yes I did ladies! I did it for you! I slayed Firespitter the Mean". Gilbert then danced around the room, telling the

girls the stories of his slaying Firespitter the Mean. How he did it, how Firespitter fell for his cunning plan that

require brains and no brawn.
"Girls, I need to talk to the properitress. I wish to open another Wild Ophelia, thousands and thousands of miles from

here".
"I am here, Gilbert. You wish to discuss business?" exclaimed a voice, as of one of expectation, not surprised to be

called for, but waiting, for such a beckon. "I am Wild Ophelia, at your service". She looked young, a girl of teenage

years, very young, but in her eyes, it could not hide, her true age, for her eyes did not shine innocence, but vicious

mischief, and betrayed her true age, which could be very long to anyones guess, perhaps centuries.
A scream, louder than the exalting moans of pleasure, for the moaners delighted in being heard, they wanted to voice out

their pleasure, for it was a moan of delight. This scream, was one of pleasure, not of a usual one of pain or horror, but

of all combined, a moaning scream, so loud, that it drowned out the din of moans and laughters and bacchantal music.
Wild Ophelia sighed. Her skin was pure white, her dress black, with lingerie a shade of absinthe. Her hair was the color

of absinthe. She looked so much the lolita, the jail-bait. "Pardon me, sir. But sometimes, not all customers react to our

alchemy the same way. That is the risks one takes, just as one knows the risks of getting drunk, or the risks of taking

black market drugs."
"Indeed, Ophelia, I am quite aware of that. I am sure that the price of pleasure was well worth that man's demise".
"It is what he wanted, he signed a Life Expiation Agreement Contract".
"Let me get to the point, and I do mix business with pleasure". Gil chuckled, and Ophelia chuckled in return. "I wish to

be in joint business with you, as a partner, to open another Wild Ophelia, way out past the Crowns of Frost."
Ophelia laughed, giggling. "You are not the first, and many have offered vast amounts of treasures, Wild Ophelia is not

for sale, nor could I venture to open a joint business with anyone".
"But, but.. " Gil pleaded, "How can those who cannot travel to this part of the world experience much pleasure?"
"Let us come to my office". Ophelia chided. "We can discuss this further." She took Gil by the arm, and led him past the

merry revelers in the halls, past bronze statues and drippping erotic fountains, past indoor gardens, orgies of rapture,

orgies of inhibition. Gil has wondered that a museum or a castle would have far less tapestries and oil paintings, and of

course, far less of erotic ones- for they all were erotic art, posing nudes in a suggestive manner, all kinds of strange

sex positions were suggested, all kinds of fetishes and perversities. Finally, they went to a staircase, which led to a

lonely penthouse in a secluded wing of the mansion, where gaurds were posted, and bowed to them both.
Fart. Gil farted, and Ophelia giggled. The gaurds did their best not to notice.
Ophelia's room was like bright absinthe, the glass windows shone green, from an unearthly light, for it was night outside.

The walls were covered in phosphorent green moss, gilding around the lush ornate paintings and tapestries. Gil noticed,

that the girls were making love to something more than a Satyr- it was a devil, with wings, and a long tail. Gilbert

shuddered at the thought and looked away. Ophelia's bed was large, as if enough for twenty-something people. Covered in

various exotic animal furs, some so exotic with patterns he has never seen.
"Let us discuss business". crooned Ophelia. She laid herself on the bed, as if she was already writhing from sexual

pleasure. A girl from nowhere brought chocolates.
"Yes, we do mix pleasure with business". Gil prayed on the inside, hoping he wasn't getting into something too serious.
Ophelia placed a glowing chocolate truffle into Gil's mouth. With that, Gilbert was moaning with pleasure at the taste of

it. It was the taste of sex, and with it's taste, brought instant sexual pleasure. It was Rose Orgasm, the truffle was

aptly named, and it instantly gave Gilbert a hard boner like a young strapping oak of a man.. or of a satyr. Gilbert felt

himself changing, he started to grow horns, and he looked at the ceiling mirror, and saw a satyr in the mirror, as she

pounded and pounded away at the lolitasque Ophelia, small and waifish, with long green swamp hair, wailing with pleasure,

her moans were loud, and musical, as if she sang the opera singer sang, a opera style of the moan, it was beautiful to

hear, and it heightened Gilbert's senses with pleasure. Gilbert kept cumming and pounding and cumming on Ophelia, shagging

and shagging the night away. Gilbert was in a trance, and saw, visions, of Satyrs running afer nymphs in a lush forest,

filled with gardens of howling excatsy, of a romp, a forest filled with hundreds of nymphs.. he saw the visions, and saw

himself transfigured, running after the forest nymphs, shagging them, one after one, by the hundreds, and with each one he

shagged, he was shagging Ophelia. Gilbert couldn't believe his eyes, as he looked at the ceiling mirror in between his

pyschedelic visions. He saw his Satyr form shag this little nymphette, he felt pleasure that was indescribable, that was

so heavenly, so healing, that he felt he was reborn, refreshed, a new man, birthed out of orgasm, birthted out of the new

womb of pleasure, with each inch and stroke of his cock thrusting into Ophelias wet tight pussy and loving mouth, he felt

that it was the creation of the world, a creation of a new universe, as if it all started with one shag, and that one shag

created many shags. That shagging created shagging. He could see stars and nebulae and galaxies form out of the cum he

sprayed all over Ophelia. She was the universe, and with each cum droplet became a star, a planet, a galaxy. The cum

dripping on her face formed into milky ways that formed our galaxy. She became Terra, a planet hospitable to life, and the

cum dripping on her became air and water, and plants grew and animals lived, where talking bears gathered to play Honey

Bingo, where talking rabbits gathered to play dice for carrots. As each cum star shone on her face, flowers grew and the

talking bees danced in a circle, the talking butterflies kissed each other and the flowers spoke and kissed each other as

well. As Ophelia would open her eyes, staring at Gilberts largely engrossed member in her mouth, the cum on her face

formed galaxies and galaxies that revealed to Gil strange new worlds to explore, to sexplore. Gilbert felt he was cumming

out life to the Universe, and Ophelia was giving life to the Universe by receiving his cum, tasting it and wearing it as

one would wear pearl as jewels. The orgasms that Ophelia and Gilbert had, was the orgasms of the Universe shagging,

kissing, love-making. The talking bears danced in circles, holding each other's hands. An Unicorn galloped throughout the

darkness, squirting rainbows of cum among the stars. The dancing bears walked on these rainbows, so they could see the

Universe as tourists and take polaroid pictures. A pink flamingo crooned a song:

Don't get too misty eyed
Don't let it get to you
You know it'll be all over
all too soon
all too soon

The Owls cry in the Night
over burning forest
where the deer flees in flight
under the moon
under the moon

Let the Knight have it's Day
with Sword held proudly
before Death has it's say
feel the doom
feel the doom

Fair Maiden drops a glove
gives a discreet wink
always looking for love
she wants it lewd
she wants it lewd

   Gilbert awoke, feeling intense pleasure, he felt a high of no return, a road where one cannot turn back. The road that

goes ever on and on. Gilbert knew it was too late. He was going somewhere and he didn't like it. Somewhere with this high,

with this altered state he was in. He knew he couldn't be sober again. He looked at the ceiling mirror, and saw his satyr

form. He was piquied. He had an intense drive for more sex, for more pleasure, and he knew this was it. He knew he could

never stop shagging, never stop fucking. He do something before it was too late. Violently horny, Gilbert had to do

something, for he was horny at the point of no return. He was Satyr, and he felt he could never be human again. He decided

to awaken Ophelia.
"Ophelia my dear" He touched Ophelia's tight ass, and began to kiss it. She began to stir, her absinthe swamp green hair

flowing with a life of it's own.
"Ah, my handsome Gilbert. You were wonderful".
It was too late already. Gilbert was munching on Ophelias nice tight ass and tasty pussy. Ophelia began moaning in

delight. And thus, another magical lovemaking session of psychedelic visions of satyrs and nymphs and the universe and

dancing bears and a unicorn cumming rainbows.
Gilbert become more disoriented, and started to lose his ego in the process, losing his identity, his memories. He

couldn't remember who he was, or what his careers were, or any of his adventures. All he could think of is sex. All he

could think of was sex and sexual fantasies, and could only feel that he could function in life as only a flamoyant

casanova, a lusty bed ninja.

   Fart. Gilbert farted. "Oh yeah, that reminds me. I wanted to build another Wild Ophelia".
"There cannot be another one on this planet, my dear Gil."
"Well I could build a brothel on my own, I could build a-" Gilbert began to weep. "I could never leave you, Ophelia! I

could never leave this place"!
"There, there my dear. Now you understand.". Ophelia hugged and consoled Gilbert, who was weeping at the mere thought of

leaving Ophelia or her place.
"I will never leave you Ophelia" Gilbert sobbed. "I will never, never, leave this place".
"Yes, Gilbert, you shall stay with us."
"All that Letcher, the 1,000,000 Letcher, is yours, Ophelia. I am yours, Ophelia."
"Yes, Gilbert, you have paid, you are now a permanent resident of Wild Ophelia, where you shall spend all your days in

rapture, shagging and shagging".
"I love you, Ophelia. I love you insanely". Gilbert growled.
"I love you too, Gilbert... Gil, I have a place to run, I am the properitress here".
"No, I must have you now!" Gilbert growled, he was a very horny satyr.
"Later Gilbert. I have hundreds of girls to manage here. Ill see you soon, Gilbert. Here, all the girls are yours, so now,

play with them.".
Gilbert started to weep, whining and whimpering like a begging animal. He got on his knees and was kissing Ophelia's feet,

her legs, her knees, her pussy, her tight ass..
"Gilbert, I will call you when I am ready." and with that she left, her absinthe green hair flowing with a life of it's

own.
Gil was howling, his satyr form was howling like a horny animal. His cock was raging and hard.

   He went out of Ophelias room, to an indoor garden, where he found many girls, and began to shag them, like a wild bunny

in heat. He howled with pleasure. The girls brought him many lingerie pillows of truffles, and he ate them greedily,

wanting more and more chocolate truffles, spiked with marijuana, spiked with opium, spiked with many unknown psychotropics

that brought unknown highs of delight. He kept shagging, shagging. He shagged the girls, he shagged Pink Deer (a girl), he

shagged Lady Knight, he shagged Lady on the Moon, he shagged Beautiful Goblin, he shagged Naughy Ninja, he shagged Viking

Valkyrie, he shagged Creepy Cherub, he shagged Treewoman, he shagged Pretty Troll, he shagged Cute Wraith, he shagged and

shagged in the indoor garden, and gorged himself chocolates of evil among flowers of evil.

   Fart. Gilbert farted. He came to his senses for a second and remembered his mission. Without hestitation, he went to

the erotic library, where, no one was reading, but shagging, and when he thought no one was looking, he pulled on the copy

of "Our Fair Lady of Malconent" and the library bookcase swung open, and he went inside. He could tell where the library

case opened, because it had the least dust, and the "Our fair Lady of Malconent" was not covered with dust, but had finger

prints on it. His Satyr senses were heightened, and he could smell and feel a tunnel behind the bookcase. He could feel

the drugs he wanted was down below, where he could get more. His satyr senses gave him a sense of direction, a sense of

direction for more pleasure, a drug-divination where one uses addiction to find more of the drug. He pranced down the

stairwell, hoping that no one has seen him open the bookcase, for he knew they were too intoxicated and too out of reality

to even notice what he was doing, or even care. There were no gaurds in the library. The stairwell was all pitch black,

but Gilbert could see in the dark with his satyr senses. He could make out any detail if he wanted to. He snuck carefully,

when he approached the laboratory. It was filled, from wall to wall, tons of shelves of jars and jars of rare speciments

of plants, essensces, botanicals, flowers, bulbs, seeds, lichen, mosses, roots, from all parts of the world. Being fairly

large, the laboratory was a huge storeroom of the rarest psychotropic plants that could create the most powerful

psychedelic trips, some that are rather poisonous and toxic, and would gauranteed produce some very scary bad trips, some

that are rather unknown to the science world. Wild Ophelia has a staff to travel to the far reaches of the planet, to find

whatever her alchemical pot needed. Glass vials and glass tubes of many sizes were laid out on a table, with many

instruments an alchemist needed. Several laboratory staff where busy, immersed in their work to notice him. Gilbert's

satyr senses told him where some drugs he craved were, but he fought hard to ignore them for the time being, to

investigate. He sneaked around the laboratory, sneaking past the staff, to the door, where he went even more downstairs, a

very long, long spiral downstairs, which seemed to go on many, many floors beneath the surface. He had to use his

lockpicks to get past this door, for inside, was an altar to some long-forgotten false god, a devil, of which wasn't in

any of Gilbert's witch-hunting beastiaries, or any demonologist's tome. It was nasty, for some reason, no matter what form

it could take, for it looked like a normal devil, but no matter what form it was, it was nasty, disgusting, repulsive.

Just to look at it made Gilbert shudder with repulsion, with disgust. He couldn't look at it without feeling so base, so

vile, so disgusted. He couldn't imagine why, just to look at a statue of some devil, made him feel so freaked out,

overwhelmed. Even in his satyr form, he was still human, and he had a spirit, and he could feel to the extent of his

being, of some strong pull of something so creepy about the statue he looked at. He ran back up the stairs, and crept past

the laboratory, back into the library, where he found Wild Ophelia, with her gaurds. She stared at him angrily, as if she

felt betrayed, fooled.
"Ophelia! I wanted to get high! There was more of those nuggets downstairs".
"Everything you need to get high is up here, Gil!"
Gilbert started weeping. "I thought that since I gave you 1,000,000 letcher, I could walk roam about freely".
"You thought correct, Gilbert. You did pay your price for your stay here. However, there are rules of conduct. You must

ask permission".
"I love you insanely, Ophelia." Gil got on his knees, and started kissing Ophelia's feet.
"Gilbert, you must visit me later tonight, after the girls feed you certain chocolates. We shall have a ceremony and you

are involved." With that, Ophelia turned and left, while the gaurds remained. The girls taunted and teased Gilbert,

coaxing him to a passionate orgy session in the library, while the guards stood, watching. He was fed tons of truffles, he

ate them off the girls bodies and butts, munching the girls butts, licking the chocolate paint from their tight bottoms,

from their legs, from their breasts. Crews of artists came in to paint the diadoramas on the girls where Gilbert licked.

Gilbert howled, he felt so high, it was the high of no return, more and more he could get higher and higher, hornier and

hornier, and he kept on orgasming, orgasming, spraying torrents of cum on the girls, and kept on shagging and shagging and

shagging and shagging, he saw visions of Satyrs running after Nymphs in an ancient forest, that somehow became the

universe giving birth to itself through it's intercourse, the galaxianas recieved his milky way of cum and new worlds were

created. Each sperm was a star, and the spray of jism was a milky way in the galaxy. He saw gumdrop visions of sugarplum

bears dancing on rainbows that came from a Unicorn's penis.

   Ophelia entered the room with the gaurds. "Its time" she said. "Give Gilbert a bath, and feed him some of the Rose

Orgasm truffles". The guards and girls led Gil to a room, a large open bath, that had natural hot spring water flowing in

marble pools of posh ornate intracity. A waterfall from the ceiling went down a wall, to cool heads. Tons of girls rinsed

themselves off under the waterfall and then entered pools of hot springs. The girls lathered Gil in lather, making him

more hornier than ever. They dried him and dressed him in fine silks, and perfumed him. They took him to a feast, where he

gorged on duck, vension, bison, buffalo, boar, fruits and veggies. He drank fine wine like it was water. The dining room

was filled with succulent dishes like a King's feast, everyday. Gilbert was happy, horny, and losing every sense of his

identity. He was an satyr, an animal that only knew, think, and could do only one thing: Shagging. Gilbert grunted and

growled, and howled.

   Gilbert was led by the guards and girls, the girls threw rose petals everywhere, singing songs of enchantment.