Verso: a being of unsurpassable seduction.

When you wake up, you find yourself strapped in a wooden chair. Your hands are bound behind you with a tight metal chain, so when you shift them, the steel grinds against your wrist.

"Hello, Verso." The voice comes from the walls, but you cannot see speakers; there are no doors, no windows. There is only a television on the wall before you. It is turned on, as determined by the red dot at the bottom-right, but nothing is on the screen. You squint into its black mirror, and find a reflection. A young man stares back.

"That is you," the voice whispers. It sounds tired, disappointed, as if withered by the years. You find it familiar. You knew this voice, once - from another time, and another place.

"Verso, this is your Human body. You will go to Earth in it, and you will collect the Ego of Man." You shift your wrists again. This is a new feeling, the grinding of flesh. The feeling of flesh. The beating in your chest. Your form, it has a cover of peach skin. Your eyes are dark and brown. You want to touch your face, but cannot. You make a frown, for the first time.

"Restriction," the voice explains. "These bodies are sensitive. You will learn this." The binding chain is broken. The metal drops onto the floor with a clink, and you bring your hands to your face. Fingers, your brain thinks. Brain? You press your hands against your head and feel the hair, soft and short. It is trimmed sharply around the ears and neck. In the black mirror, you find that it is brown, like your eyes. You touch your face.

"Handsome." The voice is soft, deep. You look down to your body and observe the muscled landscape. Chest, your brain tells you. You rub your hands over your chest. You brush your thumbs across the nipples, curious. Pleasure.

"You will know this body when you wake on Earth," the voice says. "You will know the language. You will know their ways and desires. You will, for a time, forget about Us." In the dark of the television screen, a man's image appears. He is tall, lean as you are. He stares back at you.

"Verso," the television man says. He sounds happy, breathless. Moaning, your brain tells you. The television man's hands are on his - penis, your brain calls it - penis. It is hard. You find that your's is, too. You wrap one of your hands around your penis, and it grows long and hard. Seduction.

"Seduction," the voice says. "When Man releases himself," the man on the screen moans out and arches forward, and he shoots out from his penis, "you can then consume his Ego." Semen, cum, sperm. Your brain lists off several words. Penis, cock, dick. You wrap both hands around it. Intercourse, sex, fuck. The words run through your head. Head, shaft, balls. You associate them, you feel yourself. The television man has cum oozing around his shaft, dripping. His Ego, you think.

"You will forget about me, Verso. You will consume Man's Ego until the day I come back for you." The television man fades away into the black mirror. "You must do this for Us." You look down to your penis and find that it is leaking from its hole, white fluid seeping around the base, slowly. The sensation is rapturous. Your flesh feels as though it is vibrating. "This is our last chance for survival." You run a thumb over the head of your penis, collecting the sperm.

"You must harvest the most potent of Egos." You lift the thumb to your lips and suck the cum into your mouth. The flavor is sweet and smooth. Celebrities, your brain says. The famous, the rich, the beautiful. The talented, the strong, the powerful. You lower your hand back to your penis and grip it, while your other hand rubs up your abdomen. Verso.

"Verso," the voice agrees, reading your mind. "You are our Verso." You begin to slide your penis back and forth, thrusting into and out of your grip. Your other hand joins in, doubling up. The sensation builds inside of you. The moan of the television man is in your mind. Ahh, he had cried out. You need more of him. You need more of Man. Lustful, aroused, horny. You want them all.

"You can have them all," the voice whispers. The heat boils up in you as you thrust harder and faster, the white ooze gently gathering at the hole. Images flash through your brain: the television man, his mouth, his penis, his arched climax. "And you will have the best of them." More images, new images: the television man, straddled atop your penis, riding up and down, moaning out your name, worshipping you, "Verso, Verso." And then, he is inside of you, thrusting his cum deep into your body. The feeling is impossible to ignore, you feel it surging up. You arch your back forward, buckle your knees, and let out a sudden gasp of a moan. Ecstasy.

"You now have your Human name, and your Human body," the voice says. "Now it is time for you to join the Human world."