Excerpts from:
Testosterone with a Twist of QRXZ

QRXZ Boy— through his orbit— pass after pass, tighter compiled each detailed experience, these stories. The four previous stories culminate with this legend The Arid Boys of Dry.

His emailed invitations beckoned me to voyeur with the boy artist while he sketched from life. QRXZ arranged for me and some other buddies to find him in the midst of his adventures. His other patrons view by web cam.

Living this saga with this artist gives reason to this time during my life. I enjoy assisting him when I can.

– QRXZ Boy’s editor

Arid Boys of Dry – A Fable

Why deny the fact. Self-achieved masculine pregnancy is possible. We conceive our immaculate blue-blooded corpuscles, the Immaculate Conception, and the Immaculate Male Pregnancy, no matter that such miracles are rare. And such rare things are miracles. Amongst non-gospel writ is the tale men tell of their vow to be dry. The Arid Boys of Dry.

The time was after the Fluid Plague when the waters of wrath receded leaving piles of mud. Rotting flesh and vegetation began to dry and disintegrate. The beings, being human, began to re-emerge and repopulate the earth. They remember.
A solitary man decided to leave his tribe to separate himself forever from liquid and from that moist and succulent being—woman. The seductive hydration that resides in the orifices of a female is too great a temptation for the man and his faith. He knew that as fact. He pressed his dry lips to the arid dust and vowed never to touch liquid again.

He would not die of dehydration because of his intense discipline and faith, which were fruitful. His unbroken vow cultivated his discipline. He developed great skills. He acquired great knowledge of life. His basic nutritional need and his need for moisture taken into his body, like so, was done as always. So the man achieved this rite in the ways that never compromised his exterior pledge to be dry. Continually concentrating, he reduced his physical excitement. He practiced body control and it altered the rhythm of his heart, preventing perspiration. His body re-absorbed fluids using saliva, urine, and other internal fluids. The man never lost a tear.
He never wanted to break his vow of celibacy. This personal vow extracted a toll. The body yearns for intimacy. Intimacy is only achieved physically through breaking celibacy.

The man was so distilled, so potent, so concentrated and whole with himself that his seed decided to rebel. His semen wanted control of the whole body too, if only for an instant. So the seed demanded to be used. The seed demanded release into the world of a woman. The man did not heed. No release given to the semen and the sperm. Instead, the man found strength with his dry surroundings. The cracked reddish brown mud flats invited the man to wander. The man wandered endlessly reinforcing his spirit— A spirit to resist and not to indulge in the desires of moist flesh. His flesh yearned to wallow with the sacrilegious fluid.

His sperm insisted that it must go forth to multiply and his semen insisted that it was not fair be re-absorbed internally in this misused manner. This standoff was abusive, the fluids insisted. The man as a whole was warned that his body would be rent asunder upon his alter of his misbegotten values. The man would be sacrificed from within.

The man defied that logic and he kept in all his fluids.

Consequently, the sperm arranged with the body a fever. The headed desire consumed the man that night. In his delirium he envisioned and then conceived two perfect boys. Twins. The man awoke from his nocturnal emission aware that he had impregnated himself.

His loss of control and discipline, though momentary, was total. He compromised his body as a whole. His self-control had withered under desire, and turned to lust, twisting his body uncontrollably. These actions shattered him and he divided into related facets— a link to new life.

The conscious route he once tread detoured through his dreams. A new path emerged. This path was to take a new toll on the body. The man could not imagine the changes that would be required to continue life through this new passage.

Think of his vicious semen responding with the potent sperm. The vile substance, once ejected from the body, stuck slick— burned wet— against the abdomen of the man. No place to go. No other body to enter. No woman. No options except to evaporate outside the belly or be re-absorbed into the man. The self-exiled substance found refuge in its host’s navel. There, protected, the body collaborated to create a tiny ‘foreflap’ of skin, which protects the navel passage of men to this day.

The birth process begun in the man is undeniable.

The man knew that he would carry a growing seed within his body— a full term pregnancy. However, this first man was also aware that his masculine physique was not designed or equipped to deliver a child. He lived this horror in dreams and awake as his bloated body expanded more, yet the pregnant man would not seek a midwife’s advice. He approached his finale delirious — his body experiencing unyielding pains. The self-conceived life in him must be born, or die. Either way, the man’s life was spent.

A nomad had stood among the rocks as witness to the pregnant man’s life.

‘Help me.’ Pleaded the pregnant man.

The nomad assisted by first building an open fire, bonding the two men with Dry. He unsheathed a blade and slit wide an opening across the pregnant belly. The cut removed the protective foreflap of skin exposing inside two infant males—perfectly masculine mirror-twins clinging to each other, each tightly gripping the body of his brother. The nomad gently loosened each grip.. He placed the boys side by side to dry by the fire.

The words of the self-impregnated man while dying were instructions spoken clearly to the nomad. ‘Keep The Bond Forever Dry, Forever Keep Them, Dry,’”

“We understand and enforce these mottos today.” The instructor emphasized. He stared at his students. He knew these fables are taught to unify and inspire, and they will also provoke. He continued. “So the nomad, who represents Dry on earth, kept the twin boys. More important -- the boys learned, followed, and were taught the Dry Laws. Class, repeat in unison: ‘Keep Bonded, Forever Dry.’ ”

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Pregnant, Boys of Dry (part two)

The instructor finished reading the fable and closed the book.

Several boys scoffed rebelliously, repeating clichés: “Only stories.” “Myths!” “Tales of tradition.” “Propaganda!” “A lie, because it can’t happen!”

A second adult male entered the instruction room to reinforce the concept. His deep male voice projected confidence as he said, “Good! I see that you all agree that a man can never give birth to masculine twins. Had they been feminine twins emerging from him, now, you would have believed, right?”

A boy, suddenly afraid of the thought of birthing females, blurted out a reaction against this slurry notion. He knew the facts. His classmates giggles were nervous. He stood at the back of the class facing the instructors. His open hands pressed his belly to repel the notions – twin feminine birth, or the touch of a single female multiplied. The Arid Men vowed aloud again never to touch female flesh.

These elite men, the Men of Dry, impregnate themselves, then birth a single masculine infant.

Far up the valley at the isolated village woman may exist. Her mysterious body is feminine. She possesses the capabilities of all probable birth combinations, but woman does not self-impregnate, and the isolated Arid Men control the contact.

“ONLY THE ARID MALE GIVES BIRTH TO THE ARID MALE.” The instructor stated. Dry men learn to conceive. Boys. Why are you arid?”

The class recited in unison:

Boy Be, Be Dry.
Dry. Dry, Prepared!
Prepare. Prepare Your Heir.
Air. Aired!
Your Arid Man!

“Good class. Assemble in the courtyard. Today we shave. Dismissed.”

Boys of Dry, shave

“Today you learn to shave.” The instructor said the assembled.

These young men have absorbed the Fertile Jelly so they can become pregnant. Since the moment of conception. Distilled Testosterone combined with The Philosophy has prepared each boy to produce a single male heir. Great care is invested so moisture won’t damage the process. Their fore-flaps are mature, marked with a branded tattoo. Arid Men— almost. These boys must continue the strict guidance. They bond here and nowhere else.

If any of them were to venture beyond these jag-stone walls he would inevitably meet other souls. “I wonder,” thought the instructor, “how such a wayward youth would comprehend and cope outside, being altered physically and so different from other men.”
“He is ‘Opt’, a Monks of Dry,” he might hear, and hear it much as I overheard the slang murmured by those other souls I cross, but never touched. I returned here. I question myself every day as to why I’m permitted to instruct these boys.

Our boys’ physiques are deceptively matured beyond their actual age. I have seen some other boys from beyond this sanctuary. Scrawny things lacking self-control, seemingly born to slam anything with sexual flaunt. Our boys’ sexual maturity is restricted, controlled. We practice sex as a rite to masculinity. Sex as a rite comes to our boys tonight.

The boys gathered in formation outside, still within the enclosure of steep ancient walls. Their nakedness basks beneath a bright dry sky and under their bare feet burns motionless pure dry sand. The boys are waiting. No boy complains. They watch for a mature mentor to assist them. He strips with ease, confident in his massive nakedness. Displaying his confidence to inspire them for the coming ritual. Virgin boys being prepared for a ritual rape.

“Your bodies will develop several changes during your pregnancy. Three hues of hair grow thick, here, here, here, here...You must shave. Keep all parts of your body free of hair. It takes two to shave. You will learn to assist each other with trust during this task. Continue vigilant. Retain all body fluids. Be especially aware as you shave. Forever be Dry. After you deliver your first son, then we shall laugh and watch our hair resume its unique patterns.

“I will be your example. Shave me, my first, my Son.” The boys watched closely while the mentor’s oldest son, the clone of his youth, lovingly demonstrated the dry shave techniques on his father. Years of hair was scraped and fell. The flawless shave revealed masculine skin, exposing the man naked to the boys. The shave makes him eligible for the rite of self-impregnation.

With his skin scrapped clean the mentor presents each boy with a blunted sickle blade, deadly sharp. Use your lightest touch to scrape the skin symbolically, he told the boys. A light shave over your entire skin daily prevents abrasion of the skin later when follicles sprout.

“The fore-flap skin covering the abdomen over the navel is your entry for your penis, and yours alone; and it is the only exit for your birthing infant. You are bred for this act during your birthing Season. The head of your penis senses your foreflap is protecting an entry spot. You will need assistance to help successfully achieve this lovingly brutal act. The head of a dry penis knows penetration like sperm knows to seek and enter the egg (ova).

Your fore-flap can react hard to protect against your penis. Don’t believe magic tales. These are false and circulated in private. You cannot successfully fuck yourself alone. The body will split, fighting itself. You must follow each procedure given to you by the Mentors. Be Dry. A blind penis will forge too many paths. Dig a good well. Once the entry is established properly, in time your hot sperm will inject inside you. Then this same path should guide your infant through your navel to exit your fore-flap. The entry for your penis becomes the exit for your baby boy. Concentrate on it.

The Mentor surveyed the boys while he lectured. He recalled the years that mentors prepared him for the Dry Impregnation Rite. Only a boy then, so controlled, so beautiful, so innocent. Now the successful birth of each of his 5 sons gives him pause to pray to Dry to guide these boys as he himself was guided.

A pang deep within him recalls the force of his virgin penetration. The fables and lectures can never teach the real horrid intensity of self-impregnation through the navel. When the dry penis gets stimulate is continues to engorge increasing in length and girth. It slides with it own energy wildly seeking entry through the Foreflap to place itself and inject the fluid at the internal end of the navel cavity. A light stroking calms the penis. The pain is real. Any hand attempt to prevent the penis only provokes the foreflap to clamp tighter— the penis reacts by engorging more. This cycle becomes ripping. The hands and wrist of the boy must be bound to prevent unneeded trauma, fluid leakage or premature ejaculations that might fuse the foreskin and the foreflap together permanently.

Timing is critical. Especially the instant after ejaculation when the thick-cobra like penis flattens in girth and is motionless for a moment allowing itself to be removed. The trance might last only a moment before the penis writhes again to attempt multiple orgasms. The foreskin, head or shafts enviably reenter the moist chamber and get wet. Permanently sealing this exit.

The assistant with each virgin boy must demonstrate competent knowledge in this timing. It may take days to achieve orgasm. The assistants are vigilant and remain constant in attendance to keep Dry constant during these rites of self-rape.

`Experienced instructors know that much of the rite is merely ceremonial. Ancient procedures lose mystic fascination when attacked by fashion. Only a few of the older mentors actually believe that his skin will dissolve to become fire and steam if splashed with salt liquid. Yet no man has lived to tell that he had tried it. The orifice of Woman must be lined with salted water. Some argue that this reveals the origin of the fear of all liquid.

Arid Boys of Dry, the Rebellion, the Dream, the Escape, the Sea.

Bound hands. Tied secure to prevent sleeping boys from masturbating or attempting premature navel penetrations

Two boys dreamed simultaneously—a similar dream. Both boys speak out beyond their dreams to each other.

I dreamt, I dream
The Perfect Birth
Since the Dream is Mine
I show you a little piece
Perfect Birth Sublime.

Awake now and horny with their movements restricted for the night, hands bound, these two boys connect mentally. Together they will discover a plausible way to connect in their dream state. They realize they must wait for a recess the following day to speak aloud to each other again. Discussing their dreams will reinforces their mystic confirmations. Both these boys believe they dreamed that they dreamt the perfect birth. Perfect twin. Together.

The birth of male twins is revealed as possibility partially only in a Dry legend—An incomplete legend. Shared dreams reveal the extra logic required to explain how. The knowelge required to conceive and to experience two perfect masculine births is not moisture alone but also requires total emersion. And the reason why? They know. Their dream revealed the secret of moist secretion. Moisture, the sea, and electric current identical to their masculine alkaline bodies — so altered from the acidic feminine current — are necessary. Exotic moistures and immersion in the sea are the essential elements required to achieve the legendary perfect twin masculine birth. Keeping with prophetic reality, the act cannot be achieved solo.

Total liquid immersion with the exchange of sacred personal fluids is beyond sacrilegiously radical to an arid man. Only in dream would such notion occur. Total exchange.

These boys planned their escape to the mythic salty seas. The seas exist far beyond walls. The dream is real. These two boys plan to leave to join their bodies together with the salty sea. They will go. They will leave their male companions, friends, instructors, Mentor, fathers, and time-honored traditions. Honored tradition, which would include the Dry rape, the self-penetrations of virgin boys.

Intricate leather bonds only restrict the body, but not the extended mind. This the boys realized when they became aware. They waited. Maintained physically silent 'till the recess the following day.

“I dreamt we dreamt a perfect birth.”

“I know we did,” replied the boy named Horse.

They spoke confirming words, completing each others’ thoughts. Their stance revealed a shared completeness.

“The perfect birth is…”
“…The masculine twin birth.”
“Yes, conceived through liquid…”
“…immersion.”
“Total fluid exchange….”
“….all body fluid…”
“…combined together…”
“…makes more than one.”
“Birthing independent…”
“...together.”
“Two twins.”
“Identical Four…”
“…from you and me…”
“….alive wet to dry.”
“Yes, Two perfect births between us.” They said.

“The original twin-birth myth is a truth. The man of the myth came through liquid fluid, before he vowed to Dry. Then he re-conceived himself as wet to self impregnate”

The boys continued their complementary conversation.
“The perfect male conceives perfect male twins.”
“Every conception has conceived twins.”
“Horse, we are only as perfect as our brothers are perfect. Their births were flawed.”
“Perfect twins are conceived, but our fathers and brothers only carry one fetus to birth.”
“Hush.”
“We will alter the fact, not hush it.”
“Yes. I agree. Our bodies, like our fathers’ and brothers’, are distilled, so we will lack the fluid required for twin boys to develop fully to emerge separately.”
“One fetus does sacrifice his body with his moisture into his brother, so he might continue to be inside his brother. Waiting for perfection.”
“The stronger brother takes the weaker fetus for strength.”
“Extra body parts with the afterbirth have become a tale told to frighten boy children. We are made to believe such stories not confirmed by our Mentor as real.
“He does not know the reason. Can you sense his fear of not knowing what to do? “I sense his hope that our bodies will achieve the perfect birth. Yet he is believing
that each boy shall fail as he and his brothers have failed.”
“Somehow you and I have received a solution.”
“How can we know for sure if we stay here. If you and I remain here separated to follow the Dry Rites.”
“The gift of fresh knowelge is ours to take and to act with now. The dream that we share is real, but here separated, our dream for the perfect births shall be squelched by Dry. We must act before the Rites tonight. Do not fear. We do not do this alone.”
“Yes, you believe these notions also. We should escape now while our brothers are occupied shaving each other. Follow me.”
“Good”

The two Arid boys, known as HorseBending and HairySon, cloned from their fathers, left before Dry breeding penetrated their gut. They did not hear the sound of their brother’s screaming that night. Together hey left the dry traditions, protections, jagged stone walls, brutal rites of self-penetration and the births of single twins. They trod a path that joined another, and then another, and finally led them to the legendary sea.

Horse and Hairy, excited, feeling romantic and confident in their shared rush of lust, used their hands to press their bodies close before deciding to strip their outer leather skins to enter the sea. They gripped and pondered. They considered the dark, the light, and the space around the stars, the planets, the moon and the lights reflecting up between each noisy frothy wave. The virgin Fore-flap and penis of both boys engorged. Foreflaps and penises that were prepared to self-penetrate would actively submit and receive the others cock, but first they must enter the water.

“Together” they said.

Horse added. “We will do in each other a complete liquid exchange. We must share with each other every fluid possible. I give to you my virginity. I give it in you as you receive it, and as you give it in me, I want it from all from you.”

“We shall sample each other in each other. We will impregnate each other. I feel it,” said Hairy.

“We will conceive and deliver twin boys from this liquid exchange,” Horse replied.

“We will survive, assisting the others to delivery. And we will share the proof of our dream.”

“We will be by this unbounded but together we are bounded by our liquid.”

“We will. We will.”

In agreement, the two boys stripped. “Place your mouth on mine” commanded Horse.

Their open mouths allowed tongues to touch for the first time. Their saliva tasted sweet. Embracing their forward motion, the sea lapped up their feet, legs, and torsos. The wetness was a virginal and frightening experience.

“Do we dissolve? Do I care? Hold me!,” cried Hairy. “Fondle me, mate, me whom you have chosen.”

No more thinking. They fondled their Foreflaps. Their engorging cocks lengthened, splashing from their groins, seeking entry.

*****

Self-penetration through the navel is possible, we are taught. Mutual penetrations can happen as well. Each boy worked to control and soothe the erratic movements of the other’s penis by pressing and stroking his partner’s fantastic head under his fore-flap against the loosely sealed navel passage. Horse and Hairy realized and accepted the possibilities. Acquiescent fluids mingled with the sea and made slick the suede inner linings beneath their foreflap. The openings succumbed to their wills, the shared desires, and the wills of the both penises. They enveloped more of each other’s moistures as the sea rhythmically washed against them

‘Is this rape?’ Each boy wondered as each cock pressed deeper through expanding the navel hole of his mate. There is no word for what we do. Our bodies are prepared for the pain and not the pleasure.

The boys embraced and sank to their knees in the surf, connected by cocks.

Touching, embracing, lusting, probing, prying, pissing, nipping, scratching, spitting, pleading, wanting, waiting, feeling, urging, expanding expanding, spontaneous exploding together coming fast and sudden as a drowning. Overwhelmed with pulsing fluid releasing inside. Cum. Then numbing drunkenness. Struck them odd, as sudden as Tsunami. The sensation hit. Separate or drown? Separate. Now!

Separate now, or remain and be adhered permanently. Bonded belly to belly. Semen bonds like glue and with the salt water had become corrosive to their foreskins. They realized they had lingered almost too long inside each other, overcome by the sensations. Their bodies pushed away, tried to pull out in panic. The ripping sensations feel sharp and stinging. Ripping—bleeding—splashing apart, coughing, gagging, vomiting bile their bodies had absorbed. Their separated foreskins remained inside the navel passages.

They have released it all to taste it all and to absorb it all to know it. Their virginal experience becomes their story to share and give. Naked, wet, spent, fulfilled, broken and alive. Newness generated by dawn. The boys become aware of their separated stance. The water level grows more shallow as the tide moves out. They laugh an slosh their way to the shore.

The boys that were virgin now are fathers in the making. Twins conceived growing potentials. Horse and Hairy lay on the beach drying, separated by only inches, but washed by the occasional surf. Just be. Just feel. They grow inside and out, bonded and real -- hair, skin and foreflaps dry with the rising, warming sun. They discus their futures, they talk about everything. Their bodies are forever altered. They fondle cocks and fore-flaps with their fingers as lovers would.

The Arid Men whom they left concealed behind those ancient jag walls realize those boys are gone. The boys realize the decisions taken with their passage. No Arid Man will seek them or their boys. No longer do the Arid Boys of Dry seem potent to these new moist lives. While everything they want is in each other. Good they thought. They dozed.

Sweet Dream, Dreaming Sweet.
Thank You, Be It Mind.

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