Boys can dream, can’t they?.

Bryce and Paul were boyhood friends. Many Saturday afternoons had been spent horizontal on sofas watching sports on the TV. As the years went by the cans of cola were replaced by beer, razors were in each bathroom and their voices had broken, of course. Commercial breaks were now occupied by discussions of the attractiveness (or otherwise) of various girls of their mutual acquaintance and the ruses needed to get them wearing as little as possible, as quickly as possible.

Each would have thought that they knew almost all there was to know about the other, but that was not entirely true.

The particular afternoon, Bryce was in full flow about his job waiting at table in a local fish restaurant. He was receiving a good salary for an eighteen year old, and excellent tips. He could eat as much food as he wished at the end of each shift. Life was looking good, and he was saving a little each month for his university course that beckoned from eighteen months away.

“My Dad showed me a good saving account which returns a 6% interest rate. I have managed to save £250 in the three months I have worked there. I should have over £1000 saved for when I go to University.”

“What about you, Paul. What are your plans. You don’t have a job yet you never seem short of money. I know your parents are not very rich so I don’t see that they are giving you lots of cash.”

“I do have job of sorts. I don’t plan to go to Uni. It doesn’t do what I want it to do.”

“So what do you do to get cash?”

“I play games on the computer.”

“I know there are teams of game players that enter competitions on large game platforms with large cash prizes, but I haven’t ever seen you with a serious gamer’s computer, or all the paraphernalia that goes with that sort of level of games playing.”

“I play other sorts of games. I have a special place I go which has all the bits and pieces needed to play my sort of games, and my savings account has £3 million in it and counting.”

Bryce’s jaw dropped.

“Where does an eighteen year old earn that sort of money? You are not working County Lines, running drugs are you?”

“No, nothing illegal, I assure you. I am not even a famous pop star or sports personality. No one knows the real me, except you, and anyone who knows my online persona, has no idea who I am in real life.”

“So how do you earn more than £3 million legally by the time you are eighteen without anyone knowing who you are?”

“Do you really want to know?

“Yes, I really want to know!”

“Ok, come with me to my games space.”

Paul drove them to an anonymous office building in the old banger he had had since passing his driving test. He used several keys to open a secure door into a basement office space. Strip lights bust into incandescence as they entered.

In the centre of the room were two state-of-the art gamers chairs and across one wall was a bank of top of the range computers that hummed into life as they walked across to the chairs.

Another wall had a mini kitchen with a fridge and coffee maker, and a cubicle had been built in one corner that had chemical sanitary facilities.

Another wall had an air source heat pump which acted as an air conditioner.

“Well that answers my questions about the games computer set-up, but this must be hugely expensive to buy and run. I still don’t see how you earn all that money?”

“I win it by playing just one particular game. I am very good at it. The money is winnings so it is income tax free.”

“So what game is it and can I join in?”

“Whether you join in is up to you, but I can show you just the very lowest entry level without any risk to you.”

“I don’t like the idea of something being risky, but if I can see this game safely, then I would be glad to see what you play.”

“The game is just called ‘Life’. It is an RPG game with a difference. You enter the game as a tyro .… An absolute beginner. You have no weapons and are entirely naked, but you are in an area that is safe, occupied only by other beginners. Experienced players, like me, are not allowed to attack anyone in a safe area, and we cannot be attacked there either.”

“Once you leave a safe area you are fair game for anyone. You only have a $5 bounty at the lowest level. No serious player is going so be attracted to wiping you out for $5.”

“The game of ‘Life’ is really about ‘Death’ more than life. I earn money by killing people in my own special way. Often they welcome me, and die very happily.”

“Each time you die, the game will resurrect you, but the price goes up each time. I don’t usually interact with anyone with a bounty of less than $100,000 nowadays.”

“How do you interact with someone. Is it just an RPG fighting game using magic and various sorcerers tools that you acquire along the way?”

“No not really. If you have an experience with me and want to try it out seriously, then you have to attend a sort of online school for a minimum of six, day-long sessions. This will allow you to adopt the body form that suits you best, and then refine it so you can use it to great effect. Some body forms are very sturdy, but don’t allow you to get very far along the road to riches. Other body forms are high risk, and you can earn a lot or lose a great deal. At the highest risk levels you can even die in real life. My body form is pretty much the highest risk level, which is why I earn so well, but could also die.”

“I don’t understand what body forms are available?”

“You will find out all 200 or so body types if you do the training, but first things first … You would need to choose a gender and then one of a series of body types, and skill sets, after that it is a matter of refining the detail. I took most of last year to get the body I wanted and the skill set that made it work for me.”

“What do you look like in the game?”

“If you decide to have a view, you will see what I look like, but remember that as a beginner you will be naked and will look like you do now. No choices involved yet. No one will care that you are naked, so don’t be embarrassed. It is normal in the safe areas. We will be able to look down into the other areas from a viewing platform, but that will be as far as I can take you as a guest.”
“Please also note that I will need to keep my distance from you. My skill set involves a number of very attractive stimuli, and even as a beginner you will be affected by them. You will also be tethered to me by a fine silver rope. This is for your safety before you have done the training.”

“Are you prepared to go ahead?”

“Yes, certainly, I would like to give it a go.”

“Lie down on the left couch. Please take off your trainers as they may scratch the leather. Put on the headset, and relax.”

“We will only be about ten minutes in real time, so you will not get hungry or need the loo.”

Paul lay on the right hand couch and donned his headset, and pressed various buttons on his console.

The headset responded and Bryce found himself standing in a huge square like a military parade ground. He was, as he had been told, completely naked, but the air was warm and he was standing in sunlight.

“Welcome, Calypso-26, and Calypso-guest 1, a bass voice announced … Entry time allocated - ten minutes.”

Bryce noticed about 20 people standing in various parts of the parade ground. Most were naked, silent and appeared a bit fuzzy.

“The fuzzy ones are part way through their training. Their body-form may alter as you watch.”

Indeed, one figure of a slight man, became a female ogre, for a minute or two, and then a dwarf magician. Another figure became a huge musclebound giant with an equally huge axe, then shrank to an pixie-like figure in a sapphire-blue silky dress.

Bryce turned to see how his friend looked.

Before him was the most gorgeous girl he had ever seen, dressed in the skimpiest dress that seemed to be made of iridescent Connaught green feathers. It clung to her like a glove and rippled as she moved.

“Now you have put your eyes back in their sockets I suggest we get on. We only have eight minutes left. We can talk back in the real world.”

Both walked over to the viewing platform, and as if from a belvedere, they looked down on a crowded city. Citizens moved about their business like beetles. Buildings in bright colours crowded in on each other. Plazas provided open combat areas and tiny figures were obviously in competition although one couldn’t see any detail.

“There are five cities in the World.” Calypso said. Each has its own particular characteristics and denizens. The top figures in each city have millions of credits. I am a pawn by comparison, but my function is useful to everyone and am allowed to move freely from one city to another unmolested.”

“You haven’t said how you earn your money.”

“This World is based on combat. People meet by chance or by design and enter into a mortal combat. The winner draws off all the accumulated credit of the loser. The loser is recovered and their real body is treated if needed. If they want to re-enter this World they can, but the fee goes up. This is the first time you have entered and the fee was $5. I paid it. If you were to die here and now, that fee would be forfeited and the next time it would be $10 and so on. If you enter this world and die, but have no money at all, then your body is recovered, but you are pronounced permanently dead, and your body on Earth also dies.”
“Finally, there are some people who choose to die and opt to pay a bounty much higher than they need to. This is where someone like me comes in. A bounty of $100,000 would attract me. They would die in sexual ecstasy, but would, none the less be dead in both Worlds.”

“You are avoiding the question.”

“Yes I am, a bit. This body was designed to be the most attractive that any woman could be. Men have had strokes and heart attacks just by being close to me, but I have a hidden talent. My name here is Calypso. That was originally the companion of Odysseus in the Greek myth, The Odyssey. She was a minor goddess on an island called Ogygia. She is believed to be one of the few recorded examples of a succubus.”

“Succubi were female spirits who drained the life force from men during intercourse. I am able to drive many, perhaps most, men into a state of Priapus; where those men are driven beyond their wits to an insatiable lust for me.”

“When they reach the peak of their sexual excitement and on the point of ejaculation, the fangs in my vagina bite them hard. Their life essence drains out in a matter of seconds and into me and they die in a state of excruciating agony combined with a lascivious euphoria. It ticks all the boxes as far as dying is concerned, so I am lead to believe.”

“How do you manage it? You are a average horny male teenager in the normal World, how can you be this gorgeous femme fatale with a terminal interest in men?”

“I didn’t say that I only deal in men, did I?.

“Women often get rather upset with my success in what I do. I don’t engage in conversation or argument with them. They often get short shrift from my rapier, which I call ‘Thrust’. A challenge or a confrontation from a woman; and my blade is between her ribs as soon as winking! Often the women are actually men in the real world and want a bit of the sexual action as it were, but they are lazy and don’t hone their skills enough. They still act like men in women’s bodies. Often they are charmless and vulgar and have created a female body that they think is the food of a wet dream. A gash of a scarlet mouth, then being crudely made-up with enough eye shadow to black a grate, huge pendulous tits and a gaping flaccid vulva. They are a recipe for hilarity and an early departure from the game. Such creatures are obvious and rather pathetic.”

“You need the female part of your body to be charming, and supremely beautiful and the female persona should be utterly devoted to their art. You need to be able to flatter in order to succeed. You need to be coquettish and also be able to display the high art of the royal courtesan, but you need your male entity to be unequivocal about the job to be done. The victim needs to achieve an extravagant fulfilment within the game, until their dying breath that is. The living prosper, the dead get poorer and are reborn; if they can afford it. Here you have to be an finely tuned exponent and a sophisticate of your art. Amateurs die quickly and ignominiously.”

“When the person has died and their remains have been recovered, I get 80% of their bounty, and the game gets 20%.”

Ten minutes goes so fast, and it seemed no time before the scene faded and the two teenagers felt the game couches under them and it was time to return to one’s reality.

So what do you think was the obvious question?

“I am strangely appalled and excited by the game. It might be the end of me or a new beginning. Would I need to buy my own gaming suite, or could I share this one?”

“I have no problem with you using this suite during your training, but after the six days and with you out and about, I think I would need some rent of a sort. This electronics needs replacing fairly regularly and the electricity bill is horrendous.”

“That seems fair to me. If I pull out during or after training then I would owe nothing.”
“How do I know if my training is successful?”

“That is up to you. If you feel comfortable in your game body and can see a way to get wealthy then it is worth a go, but it is not for everyone and I would certainly not criticise you if you felt it was not for you.”

“Tell me about the various forms that people can take in the game. There must be some sort of guidelines that people follow.”

“I suppose there are, in a way. The first decision you have to make is whether you want your appearance to be male or female. As I have said, men who adopt a female form but have not learned how to be a woman properly just look like caricatures of women. Your form has to be convincing.”

“So how do you appear convincing as a fairy or a dwarf or an elf or even an ogre?”

“There are guidelines that spell it out the pros and cons of each form. You would need to go through those with care. I found my form quite easily, but it was so high risk that my mentor asked me to reconsider my choice.”

“You have known me for most of our lives. What would you recommend as being a starting point?”

“I wonder if you would not be better remaining as a male. I think the transition might be too much for you to take to as easily as it was for me.”

“I think you might be right. What about form and skill set?”

“How do you feel about magic? Most of the dwarf, elf, fairy, categories depend on magic to get them through.”

“I have always loved RPG games and have often taken on the roll of one of the magical folk. I like the mage roll in Minecraft but the game is different here. You seem to have to live the roll completely to be a success. The mage seems to be full of showers of sparklers and mystic potions, but the roll doesn’t seem to lend itself to serial killing.”

“You are right, but you do need to be able to cope with the normal world as well. You have to emerge to eat and drink, and wash and do a poo. People in the fantasy world do none of these things.”

“Have you any ideas?”

One idea is to go big. Like an ogre or giant, but they are both physically slow and mentally slower. Another idea is to go very small. There are people who become commensals living as tiny organisms on the skin of others. They don’t make much money, but they survive a long time. They live on scraps of life essence their host leaves behind.”

“I see you as male but not one of the large people.

“What about a warrior?”

“No, it really doesn’t appeal. I think killing by subterfuge is the best strategy … killing people when they don’t expect it.”

“Do you fancy yourself as a great lover?”

“Don’t we all, but you need the body and the confidence to do that. Are you suggesting that I seduce women or men appearing to be women, then kill them in the act of lovemaking?”

“It is certainly a way of using subterfuge to kill.”

“Are there enough women or people passing as women to make the roll of a gigolo a success.”

“Sure, if your tastes are sufficiently catholic then there are dozens of gaudily dressed characters purporting to be women but are actually the caricatures of women. Someone who could bring themselves to flatter them, remove their ridiculous garments with aplomb and finesse; then spear them with conviction and a powerful erection would do very well.”

“Wouldn’t someone like that be an incubus to your succubus?”

“Yes, to some extent, but the original idea of an incubus was a man who had sex with a sleeping woman. You would have to extract the living essence from a very lively female person who was attempting to demonstrate that they were the ideal woman rather than a grotesque from the carnival.”

“You would need an erection that Priapus would have been proud of and a personal manner that was both suave and capable of oozing charm. Your whole being would have to be phallic with the bulge in your trousers verging on the monumental.”

“Isn’t that a bit on the large size. I have seen those plastic statues they sell in Greece where Priapus has a permanent erection an Arab stallion would be proud of.”

“Not at all. Many of the women we are talking about ask for vagina that someone’s whole arm would fit in with room to spare. Priapus’ organ might get lost in one of those!”

“That is obscene. No one surely asks for reproductive organs that size.”

“Yes they do and 44DDD breasts is another accomplishment they seem to expect, until they are told that a woman with such a humungous bosom would have constant back ache.”

“Surely trousers are not designed for such a large organ, particularly one that is permanently erect.”

“No, such men wear tartan kilts or a loin cloth or let it all hang out, as it were.”

“This is all getting a bit bizarre now. I don’t see myself as the great lover ready to impale women who have more than a passing resemblance to gargoyles, who then return to a normal life as very average men with their wives and children.”

“I take your point. Perhaps we are getting ahead of ourselves. Your training is designed to allow you to make these decisions. After getting the larger picture, there are then numerous refinements to allow you to be resilient against attacks from all sorts of beings.”

“How do I apply to start the training?”

“You just have. The light blinking on your headset shows green. You are now at novice one level. As soon as you put your headset back on the training will start. It will take about six hours to complete. When will you have a spare six hours?”

“I can start tomorrow morning if that is ok by you.”

“Yes, fine, we will meet here tomorrow morning and I will go into another part of the city whilst you are in the safe area receiving instruction.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The following morning they met as planned. After a quick coffee they both donned headsets and six hours of training began.

Calypso waited until Bryce’s image became fuzzy. She saw the body of her friend assume all sorts of shapes and sizes to help refine an idea, but it was soon clear that the images were female and slight of build and magical. Calypso drifted off in search of a victim who wanted his end to be made spectacular.

Calypso was a superb artist and the man died with first, a moment of total euphoria, then one of shock, then one of impending coma and death. Calypso never wore any underwear under the dress. All she had to do was to straighten the skirt of her dress and return to the safe area with a larger bank balance.

Bryce was still fuzzy, but an elfin girl was clearly his/her chosen form. The child-like person glowed with magic and then the session finished and an exhausted Bryce fell to the ground to be helped up by Calypso.

The image of the Life World faded and they were back on the couches, each with half a cup of stone cold coffee.

“Well one down, five to go.”

“I was back in time to see you become a elfin girl. What made you choose that form? I would never have believed that an elf, let alone an elfin girl would be able to survive in this world. You must have had some good guidance.”

“I wanted to be female. I don’t know why. It has always been something I have wanted to try.”

“It isn’t just about giving it a try. This would be a life changing decision.”

“I know, but the elfin girl does seem to be right also.”

“There cannot be many elfin girls in the game. How do they kill and get a bounty?”

“They don’t kill on their own. They are part of a killing co-operative. There will be five characters in the group, each with their own skills. I will have magic I can draw the punters into a trap with a stun spell and a winning smile and showing a lot of leg, then the others set about the prey character and dispatch them summarily. Two others are boy pixies and the other two are fairies. They will kill with a blizzard of tiny blows using their swords and axes. Even a sword 5cm long can kill used in the right way.”

“It sounds like a scheme, but why not be something more physical like a dwarf or a gnome.”

“If you are a troll or a giant, you are too slow to hit a fairy flying round your head raining tiny blows on your scalp until you are blinded by your own blood running down your face.” The pixies attack the ankles until the troll falls to the ground to bleed to death and for us to collect the bounty.”

“This will be something to see. I have never seen a bevvy of tiny beings succeed with a giant, but the logic seems inescapable.”

“What about suitors?”

“You are going to be a very beautiful elfin girl. There are far more boy elves than girl elves. You are going to have to fight off the suitors, and avoid making baby elves.”

“I hadn’t thought of that. How do I keep my virtue, and make a lot of cash with a bevvy of lovelorn elves hanging around.”

“Make it clear you are not interested, then kill a few who don’t take ‘No’ for an answer. Each one probably has a bounty of a couple of hundred dollars. Your virtue will be safe after that.”

“I will not have a weapon after my training. How does one kill even an elf without any sort of weapon?”

“Use a paralysis spell, then suffocate them, would be one way. Tieing them up as you would in any SM tryst, then doing something nasty to them would be another way. You just have to choose masochist boy elves to practice on. You will soon get the hang of it. A dagger costs a minimum amount of credit. You will soon get your starter weapon.”

The second session saw the fuzzy image of Bryce change proportions only slightly. Golden curls now framed a delicate face with a charming smile. The nudity was covered by a body hugging primrose yellow suede miniskirt and bustier, and a necklace of tiny crystals helped to emphasise her beauty.

“My don’t you look a picture.” was Calypso’s first comment. Absolute eye candy, even if you are only 15cm tall. What do you call yourself now?”

“I think Alara suits me well. It means elf in Turkish I believe.”

“Alara it is, then.”

Calypso spoke aloud to the computers. “ Calypso-26 recording, Calypso-26-Guest One is now to be named Alara. Re-register trainee Level 2 as Alara.”

A baritone voice responded. “Calypso Guest One is now registered as Alara-12. Trainee Level 2.”

“Alara sounds good. Not so sure about the number 12, but needs must, I suppose. I wonder who all the other eleven Alaras are, or have been?”

“Now you have an individual game name you can go to the safe area for training on your own. Be warned though … It is impolite to ask about people in the real world when you are in game mode.”

And so it was. Bryce/Alara -12 logged in and was welcomed. She was introduced to the other four members of her intended team who were also in the later stages of their training. Each had a new name, but the two pixies hadn’t gone far into the alphabet and had chosen Alvar and Ash. The fairies really didn’t have a gender, but were known as Viola and Peri.

In the final stages of their training Alara and her new colleagues could see the bounty on each character. In the training safe area most of the figures had bounties of under $200. It showed as a glowing number over the head of each character. When they went to one of the exits from the training area and almost, but not quite, crossed the threshold, they saw characters with bounties in the tens of thousands, even millions of dollars. Not surprisingly, these characters walked with a swagger of total self-assurance.

Alana thought very seriously that she would like to knock them off their pedestals and get some of the huge bounties available, but a three-inch-tall she-elf with no weapons and a miserable set of five basic spells needed to bide her time.

The team graduated within an hour of each other and grouped at the exit to refine their strategies.

Standing at the exit, Alana attracted frequent and prurient interest. A stunningly pretty elf was bound to attract all sorts of unwanted interest, but it made it easy for the other four to dispatch the offender who was often ogling her cleavage or pert little bottom. After a couple of hours the group were $2200 the richer and each had a bounty of over $500 that glowed over each one’s head.

When Bryce re-emerged from the game, Paul had already ordered pizzas for them both. The smell wafting from one world to the other reminded Bryce that he was hungry, but he deeply regretted giving up that delightful little body for even a few hours. It was like waking up to reality after having a beautiful dream.

“So your team bumped off a few lechers. Good for you. Hope they will come back in with a higher bounty for you to get again.”

“It was no hardship disposing of such debauched individuals. I would do it again without any compunction.”

“No boy elves that you fancied then?”

“Give me a chance. I am getting good at making the best of this very fit body I have created with the help of the Game, but getting laid by a boy elf is not one of my priorities. Not yet anyway.”

“I will enjoy seeing you paired off with a beautiful boy-elf, but don’t get too lovey-dovey yet. You have some serious killing to do.”

“I will try my best. There are a couple of DOMs (Dirty Old Men) dressed up to look like young stags at the rut. The reek of testosterone is quite overpowering and they strut about as if they owned the place. They hover near my group all the time and I will have them skewered for sure the next time I am in the game. even though they are many times my size.”

“How are you dealing with players who are so much bigger than you?”

“We have a technique for suffocating the insufferable, or twisting the heads more than they are intended to, but modesty prevents me revealing some of our more unrefined actions, but most are bloody and rather distasteful to delicate ears. Let me say that Peri has got a taste for raw testicles. The wounds they leave behind do bleed heavily and the afflicted die reasonably quickly.”

“OK, you are allowed some trade secrets.”

“With five of you, you will need to deal with more than two punters a day.”

“Yes, we have a plan to hide in garden hedges and rush out and bite the legs of passers-by.”

“What good will that do?”

“You haven’t seen a fairy’s teeth. They are needle sharp and long. Most fairies don’t laugh because they look like a Piranha with its mouth open. One of our group bit through a gnome’s Achilles tendon in one go during training. He was hopping mad about it.”

“You can forget about all that nectar sucking business for fairies. They like their meat raw and bloody.”

“So how big a bounty are you aiming for each time?”

“At the moment we are keeping quite close to the safety zone, so the best we can hope for is about $500, but we are planning to become more adventurous and hope to get up to the $10,000 range before too long.”

“What happens if one of you gets killed?”

“We pay together for their reinstatement. At the moment it is quite cheap, but no one has been killed to date and long may that remain. Five pairs of eyes are better than one, and we are all small enough to hide in almost any situation, and quick enough to bemuse something big.”

“I still think it is strange that you can be a normal teenager here with normal hormones and fancying girls, and then becoming a stunningly pretty she-elf with all the desires of such a being.”

“How is it different from you being the same normal type boy, then becoming a sex machine with fangs in your vagina who sucks the life essence from her clients/victims in their moment of total ecstasy. Either that or stabbing female victims without even exchanging the time of day.”

“Point taken. I suppose it comes down to what we do best. I don’t know enough about it to be dogmatic, but my lifestyle in the game is more Id than Ego. The life form is the opposite to my existence in real life, as it is with you. We both enjoy the freedom of scanty form-clinging dresses and no underwear. Being a stunning beauty makes you vulnerable on Earth. In the game it makes the punters vulnerable and open to attack. Our victims inevitably approach us with an engorged penis sticking out in front just waiting to be bitten very hard. Even a she-elf can do a lot of damage to one of those! I also have a trick where I jump onto the head of large beings and then bend their eyelashes inwards. This makes their eyes water and they cannot see as my friends hack and slash at their vital bits. Death by a thousand cuts as you might call it.”

“I went up a troll’s nose recently. I attacked the delicate bones in his nostril and he had a massive nose bleed and collapsed as a result. That got us $1000.”

“He must have been a very recent creation. Trolls are usually very aware of the game and don’t get taken in so easily.”

“In fact he was so shocked to be outmanoeuvred that he was reactivated as a fairy and we are now six. She kept her coffee coloured skin and tight curls. In her red silk kimono dress slit up to the thigh she looks absolutely stunning, even ‘jaw-dropping gorgeous’. The embroidered dragons in scarlet and gold emphasise her beautiful figure and her wings are iridescent and golden.” She kills with great panache and has earned a goodly amount already. She loves being a fairy compared with being a troll, but then who wouldn’t! Just don’t ask her to open her mouth, the rows of razor sharp teeth are a big turn-off.

“Can your computer base here be attacked in this world to change the game?”

“Yes, it is vital that access is restricted to the two of us. Destruction of these computers or the compromising of our security would open the game to bad actors and there is a strong motivation amongst competitors responsible for other games to do that. The total bounty on all the players registered is trillions of dollars. Getting access to that would make it a very attractive robbery.”

“So how do you meet up with the punters for your particular services?”

“They apply to the game and are interviewed. If a psychiatrist judges that they are of sound mind they attend one of the open access points for the Game. When they enter as unregistered visitors I meet them and a black rope is attached to one wrist. I lead them out of the entry zone. At that point they have a zero bounty as a visitor, so no one would see any point in attacking. I lead them to a suite of rooms and they are given one further chance to withdraw.”

“ If they confirm that it is their wish to proceed, then I flick a switch as it were and I emit a very strong female pheromone. If the punter is depressed, it is all forgotten as they become more and more sexually aroused. Usually their faces, necks, chests and groins become suffused with blood. Once or twice I have had clients die of a heart attack or stroke at this stage, otherwise my dress seems to disappear to them, and I mount them while they lie on the bed. After a few strokes they are close to a climax and at the second they climax my vaginal fangs impale their member, and their life essence is drawn out. The body that is left, has four, one centimetre long slits in their penis, but otherwise they look like an intact, but dried grey husk of a person.”

“The game staff deal with the cremation and the ashes are sent to any relatives we have been told about. The death is registered with all the relevant authorities, as they are for all permanent deaths in ‘The Game of Life’.”

“Will you carry on in the game for the time being?”

“Yes, I think so. It is only a game, and people who die are resurrected immediately, unless it is deliberate of course. I enjoy my role in the game. My play name is Calypso, but behind my back I am called ‘Madam Death’. It is rather flattering in a way. I think of myself as the public hangman who tries to achieve perfection in everything he does.”

A loud whistle sounded for half time on the TV and the boys’ attentions were drawn back to the soccer match that had been playing all the time they had been mulling over what might have been. Boys can dream, can’t they?

But how could they explain, even to each other, finding the tiny, but exquisite yellow suede miniskirt and bustier that was stuffed down the side of the sofa, or the set of security keys that didn’t fit any of the doors in Paul’s house, but were found in his jeans pocket by his mother when she cleared a space on the floor of his bedroom?