The man. He is strong and resilient. Strong hands… strong arms… strong… everything. The coupling between a man and man is completely natural. Completely natural – amongst gay men. That's what I am and that's what I am doing here. Just… doing just that. Fucking men. It's pretty damn good too if you ask me. I can feel the chills in my body, my body – his body, even. It's wonderful and sexually pleasing. I can live with this.

In a world where gay men roam the Earth, straight females do too – and so do the extremist Christians who feel that any man and every woman should be straight – and to disobey this rule is to disobey God's will.

'Adam was a man and Eve was a woman because of God's will. Without it, you would not be here.'

Methods had been tried and tested and the most many had been able to do was create an illusion in the minds of the homosexuals, repressing any natural thought or desire. They would feel shame when they dreamt about men and confess themselves sinners; something completely unnatural and wrong. Why is it wrong? It denies the true self. But the true self to many is a clean one, an unrealistic one; where sexuality is repressed and harnessed to fit the needs of an insecure community.

The technical harness across the man's face flickers with pictures and the chair keeps him from moving too violently or suddenly. The women, naked, climb on top of the man and copulate furiously, hoping to steal that inkling of human sperm in the mount of orgasm. The man in the chair is groaning and his face is split with… a lopsided grin. He can't remember why he has been put in the chair. He isn't even aware he is in a chair. The tiny electrodes pulsing information into his brain are beeping and sending him a picture – a wrong picture. It's an illusion made in the minds of homosexuals, pulling out every natural thought and desire to make copulation with the female species possible.

'Is it working?'

'Seems to be.'

'Give him a rest.'

'Oh, he's resting now, your honour. The sedatives we gave him will give his body the relaxation he needs.'

'Very well… when he wakes up switch the image to Simulation II.'

'Of course.'

Each Simulation contains a new image for the homosexual man, an altered picture of the supposed mate so the conscious mind does not recognize any change. Each subject will change Simulation when their minds are stable enough and their subconscious willing to receive. The picture is slowly changed from that of a man to a woman and they will come out of the state, their subconscious desires changed completely – or that was the plan, anyway.

And, of course, there is a room specified for the lesbian women and men cue up eagerly for free sex all for the sake of research – who was the genius that thought of it? An extreme Christian ready to save the will of God, quite open to sex without marriage because as far as they were concerned – gays and lesbians could be excused because they were fucked up enough anyway. The men and women assisting in their plight belonged to a group of sexually perverse individuals. They're fucked up too. That's why they're helping. Birds of a feather flock together, they say.

Occasionally there would be a technical glitch and the image would go down. If this were to happen the individual in the chair would scream, shout and attack whoever was with them at the time – attempting to tear apart all wires from their heads and smash the little screen placed in front of their bloodshot eyeballs.

'FUCK YOU ALL,' screamed a woman, going completely hysterical in her leather binds on the chair. She wrenched her binds off and threw herself off the seat, her breasts jiggling dangerously as if they too were filled with anger. 'You're all fuckers, you know? FUCKED UP.'

'Goodness,' muttered an assistant from the viewing room. 'Somebody, please…'

A button was pressed on the board and the assistant watched in mild indignation and disgust as the women was pinned to the ground and forced to swallow some aphrodisiacs. When she spat them out in the security guards' faces they stabbed a long needle in her arm and she fell asleep. Then another needle penetrated her arm and the woman was placed back into the chair. The man who had been copulating with her was tall, gruff and very unkempt. He spat on the floor.

'Bitch.'

Then he strode over to her and started thrusting into her as if nothing had happened. The security shrugged and put the goggles and headgear back on the woman whose head lolled in the chair as she regained consciousness. In a few moments the system was up and running and she was back in her moaning, groaning state, unaware that the illusion of a lesbian doing her with a double-ended dildo was actually a man.

And the psychological conditioning continued. Many of these individuals would end up in therapy later in life because they'd found that they had been dug a greater hole than had previously been made. And they wanted a way out of it.

Even such diverse psychological treatment can't hide the sexual being inside.


A/N: I don't know why I wrote this but I did. I haven't looked through it much but hey. I just remembered all the controversy with Bruno and the whole gays-trying-to-be-turned straight and I thought... what if. Review if you like. Review if you hate. It's all good with me.