When I was only 3 years old, my mother told me that I shouldn't play with wires, lest I be shocked. She never did explain to me what being shocked meant, and what it felt like, and I was always left wondering. When I was 8, I learned from my teacher that metal conducted electricity. I could no longer quench my thirst for knowledge. I stole one of my sister's sewing needles and stuck it in the TV outlet, and I instantly felt a pulse along my arm. It was not painful, it did not burn. In a way, it was interesting, even a tad pleasant.

When I was 11, my best friend told me that if you rubbed your penis, you would feel really really good after a minute. And he was right. Now I wondered though--what if I could feel the pulse of electricity at the same time? So I took two needles, laced them around each other, one on my penis and the other in the outlet, and felt like I never had before. I did this every few hours, every day.

My mom thought I had a problem. She replaced our silverware with plastic. She made my sister stop sewing. I was given "counseling" from a therapist who was wrong in every way. But I needed that feeling, it was just so appealing. There was nothing wrong with me! He therapist reccomended that my family go on a vacation where I could get away from my 'problem.'

It was the first night out camping, no metal in sight, no electricity either. Then I realized that my brother had packed a portable camping light. It was hot, but it shone just as any other would. What my family didn't know is that I had snuck a sewing needle into my hair for the trip.

I took the needle out and jabbed at the lamp. Just gently poking the needle with my fingers, I felt hot and tingly. This would be better than anything else. I caressed the lamp, took it into my arms, and held it above my groin. It throttled down the shaft and up the head, going deep into my core. I could not help but both laugh and cry. I was in heaven. I had discovered what lamps could really do.

I made a fair bit of noise doing all that. My mom came storming into my tent, and I was a mess. I was still coming off of pure ecstasy, so in truth I was not embarrassed. I was really sore, and it still tingled, so even with my mom in the room and pants still down I couldn’t help but giggle. She was furious, and grabbed the lamp, careful to avoid my cum.

She told my dad too, who beat the living shit out of me. I broke down in tears, how could the worst pain follow my perfect heaven? We went back to my therapist's office immediately. My therapist wasn’t happy either. I can’t remember what he said, but he was very dissapointed. When we got home, my dad locked me in my room for what felt like weeks.

There was a light in my room, but my parents shut off electricity to my room. I felt empty, and cold. Still, there was a lamp right there, if only I could turn it on. Of course, I knew everything about electricity. I had embraced it as my friend, and I knew all of her secrets. It wasn’t long before I was thinking of a way to return. I scoured my entire room, but found little more than loose pocket change and lint. I no longer had any of my electronics.

I waited a long time, I can’t even tell you when, but I told my parents through the door that I was thirsty. I cried and cried, begged them for something other than stale water to drink. I knew that we only ever had three things in this house beside water, and I wasn’t about to be given my dad’s vodka. They would not give me a real drink though, only an old lemon, which smelled already of the beginnings of decay.

My stomach gurgled, vibrating almost enough to be arousing in itself, had I been more awake. I fell asleep, and woke barely better than I had before. I had even caught a cold. Mucus drained from my noise as my illness got worse, but I didn’t care. In my ill stupor, I began to daydream, for what felt nearly as long as my entire life. I had it. I had it!!

I pried an old nail out of my door, and jammed it into the lemon. I took a penny from my old search and jammed that into the other end of the lemon. I rested the base of my penis on the tip of the nail, and made the penny my pedestal. I was the wire, and the lemon was the lamp. I once again felt it coursing through me, reassuring me that I would be alright no matter what the punishment. My prostate groaned almost as loud as my stomach, and I could not stand. I let the current run through me, tensing my thighs and clenching my anus. I exploded all over, from the door, to every wall, to my nose. My fluids formed a frothy mixture of white and yellow over my neck and breast. If lamps were heaven, then lemons were God himself.