Chapter 7
Jon found himself standing on a very flat, grassy plain. The grass was about waste high, and a light breeze caused the blades to dance under his hand. It was not wheat, but the ends of the grass broke into segmented modules which suggesting it was eatable. He ran his hand across one, first feeling the tiny nodules like beeds, then breaking them free and dropping them to the earth.
There was a discernable breeze moving the grass to and fro in gentle waves. He though he heard something rustling in the grass, perhaps a predator, but no matter when he turned, he saw only grass for as far as eye could see. It was a very green world, and it seemed to call for an equally blue sky, but the sky was not blue. Some of it was black without stars. Most of it was banded zones of pastels, and he immediately knew he was staring at a gas giant. He had seen sufficient photos to know this was not Jupiter or Saturn. This was new, something from outside his experience range.
His awareness went to high alert, as if he had stepped into a club that was primarily nonwhite folks. He felt embarrassed and apprehensive, even though white folks weren’t barred per say, it just felt as if he just didn’t belong. His first thought was, “am I dreaming.” The dream checks came back as null. That didn’t mean he wasn’t dreaming, but rather, it was very unlikely he was dreaming, but the fact that this was peculiar and non sequitur in terms of stream of consciousness, he wanted to default to that explanation. He tried to recall his last waking memory. He remembered being locked in Timothy’s body. That, too, was non sequitur and felt dream like. There was a space between that he couldn’t access.
What did he know? There was a gas giant. There was the shadow line that suggested more planet beyond the scope of the light reflecting from the planet, with occasional lightening burst to reinforce the idea that there was more planet than could be seen. There was hint of another moon, a brilliant point of light. There was evidence of a patch of space, but again, no stars were visible. As his brain took this in, it did unconscious math and produced the obvious platform explanation: ‘we are on a moon, orbiting a gas giant.’
“Nice!” Jon said, temporarily forgetting his feelings of being an intruder upon a world he had no business being in.
Jon was smacked on the back of the head so hard that he was temporarily blinded. When he could see again, he found himself partially bound, from ankles to thigh, in cocoon like web.
His wrists bound together. The creature that had bound him was present, and weighing him down. Two of her hands pinned his hands above his head. Another set of hands held his face, pinching his cheek and pursing his mouth open. There was another set on his waist, and the other two on the ground. She was rocking her hips back and forth gently. From nearly the torso up, she was human, female, but from waist down, it was exaggerated spider features. He had an emotional, visceral reaction to the back, ‘chitinous’ exoskeleton, which triggered a ‘freeze’ option of the ‘fight or flight’ response and his eyes went wide. Juxtaposed with the ‘fright’ was the human aspect, which seemed exaggeratedly human female, and was so alluring he wanted nothing more than to pursue a dalliance. He wanted her to smother him with heavy swaying breasts. He seemed suddenly quite content with the fact he was likely to die, and so, death by breast seemed reasonable. He was likely to be eaten in the very traditional sense of the word.
Resisting the monsters weight and the binding increased his arousal response. He was almost aroused enough that he might come even if she started eating him now. And even if the monster was only considering a forced romantic session, he was likely to be food afterwards, since spiders don’t eat grass. Not all spiders ate their mates, though, but what were the odds that he was ambushed by a spider that didn’t eat the mate after ‘eating’ the mate?
Her eyes were intense, and her bosom was warm against him when she allowed it to dip and brush back and forth against his exposed chest, pushing right up against his chin and flattening out over his mouth. The grass towered around them so that they might as well have been in a secluded patch all of their own. His pants were visible, discard and weighing down the grass, and his erection was unfolding in an uncomfortable way, considering the weight of the spider.
“You are not Timothy,” she said, lifting her backside up. The erection popped into its normal, comfortable position, and she settled back down on it, squishing it between her abdomen and his body “Oh,” Jon said, both with understanding and relief. Yeah, that explained a lot. “OMG. Rachnera, I presume.”
“Umph,” she said, not impressed. Her statement neither confirmed nor denied Jon’s suspicion, but he was confident he was being raped by who he suspected. “Are you one of Timothy’s minions, or a buyer?”
“Buyer?” Jon asked.
“Minion it is, then,” Rachnera said.
“I am not a friend of Timothy, nor am I buying anything,” Jon said. And then, as an afterthought, he added. “What do the buyers buy?”
“Us. Timothy catches us, uses us, and when he is finishes with us, he sells us to the highest bidder,” Racnera said. She wiggled, pushing herself more firmly against him. It was not unpleasant. “From where I come from, we catch human males, not the other way around. So, it seems only fitting I should use you before killing you.”
“I just said I am not a minion,” Jon said.
“Exactly!” Rachnera said. “Which means, you’re are one.”
“How does that follow?” Jon said.
“Timothy is a lying, creepy, retard. It therefore follows that all of his minions will be more retarded, more dishonest, and creepier, and the way you keep staring at my boobs only confirms the creepier part…”
“In my defense, they’re fairly large and when squashed against me, well, nice,” Jon said. “Oh, well, thank you. Lucky for you, I do not practice ageism, and since you’re available, and I have a hunger,” Rachnera said.
“If you were to untie me and promise not to kill me, I would willingly submit to whatever play you like,” Jon said.
“Interesting proposal,” Rachnera said, mulling it over. “I do sense a growing willingness, but why untie you when I can just take what I want without threat to you tricking me or escaping?”
“There is that,” Jon said. “However, you will never learn if I am agreeable, and learn trust, without allowing for some risk.”
“You speak like a minion,” Rachnera said.
Rachnera covered his mouth with one of her hands, so he wouldn’t speak, actually pushed her fingers into his mouth. She bobbed her back end, and the hardened cock was now sufficiently hard to push through the available opening. Warm, viscous fluid ran down his cock. She settled with an outrageous sigh, staring up. The noises she made, both from her vocal cords and also from the rubbing of her own body parts, was mysteriously weird and somehow, alien sexy. As a magician, Jon was privy to extra sensory perception, and when she came he saw an explosion of lights, and this pushed him through his own threshold and into an orgasmic bliss that filled him with warmth. She settled comfortably on him, almost too endearingly familiar, considering they had just met. It was sort of like the love of a child for a new stuffed toy animal. Instant rapport and fondness, only, Jon was more than just a stuffed toy, and the new intimacy was probably just too much oxytocin.
The noise from their mingling summoned another. A female centaur appeared. “Oh, are you the one making all that noise? Oh! Where did you find that?” asked Centorea.
“I caught it, it belongs to me,” Rachnera said.
“We agreed to share everything we find here,” Centorea said. “This is different. Mine!” Rachnera said.
“Hand him over,” Centorea said.
“No,” Rachnera said. “He’s still hard and inside me and feels so…” Miia arrived. “What’s still hard…Oh. OH! I want a turn.”
Suu arrived. “A turn with what?” she asked. “Oh!” And she fell on Jon, sucking the sweat off his brow. “OMG, he taste like…”
“Coffee, I know, right!” Racnera said.
A quarrel ensued over owner ship. It was physical conflict, and Rachnera was knocked off of Jon as the battled intensified, at which point, Rachnera agreed to share, not because she was particularly losing the battle, but because while she and Centorea and Miia were fighting, Suu had taken advantage of the distraction and assumed complete control and was laughing hysterically as she absorbed all the wetness, simultaneously bouncing and tightening her legs as she straddled the man. That, and Rachnera wasn’t going to use him while he was all covered with slime, and so if they wanted sloppy thirds, let them have him.
When Suu finished, she seemed completely passive and sedate, laying there, stroking him with tentacles, and cooing. Jon seemed equally sedate, as if he might fall asleep. Centorea picked Jon up and tossed him onto her back. She carried him back to their base camp, her friends keeping up with her. Miia, was mostly reptilian, from the waist down snake, kept up closest to Centorea, petting Jon’s head. Her red hair was wild, as if it hadn’t been brushed in a good while. In fact, except for Suu, they appeared to have had minimal grooming.
Base camp included two structures. One was small hut comprised of web, grass, and bamboo. It had been assembled next to a monolithic structure that Jon was unable to identify. He was positioned near a campfire, where the girls gathered. They talked amongst themselves without including Jon, and through their normal activities, they revealed several features of the monolith. One side dispensed frozen cubes they were calling rice/fish. They warmed this item over the fire and ended up with a pudding that tasted pretty much like rice/fish that had the consistency of baby food with grit. Also, the monolith offered a toilet and a lavatory.
When the monster girls finished eating, they force fed Jon one of the cubes after minimally unthawing it.
“OMG, that’s disgusting,” Jon complained. Centorea tasted it. “Taste alright to me.”
“Well, I don’t know how to respond to…” Jon said, as another spoon full was shoved into his mouth. He was blocked from spitting it out, and his nose pinched so he was forced to swallow. “Please, no more.”
“If you’re going to serve us, you must maintain a nutritious diet of rice and fish,” Miia said.
“Besides, that’s really all there around here to eat,” Racnera said. “Until recently,” Centorea said, chuckling.
Suu laughed. “I want more,” she said. “I am next,” Centorea said.
“Um, if you want something different, there’s food in my pocket,” Jon offered. The girls looked at each other and laughed.
“Bet you say that to all the girls,” Miia said.
“No. Well, okay, maybe. But, actually, what I am revealing is that I am magician,” Jon said.
The girls laughed again. Suu didn’t so much laugh as smiled because her friends were laughing. She seemed more interested in the possibility of magic. “Like pulling rabbits out of a hat magician?” Suu said. “Um, no, more advanced,” Jon said.
“I like rabbits,” Suu said.
“Yeah, actually, rabbit taste pretty good,” Miia said. “No eat rabbit. Pet rabbit,” Suu said.
“We should give her some more water,” Centorea said.
Rachnera fetched it for her friend.
“Any chance you might untie me?” Jon asked.
They laughed. They collectively agreed he was a comedian and not a magician.
“It would be easier to keep me clean if you allow me to attend to my own toilet,” Jon said.
That actually made sense and since they were not bad folks, just monsters from a different cultural paradigm, they felt compelled to consider. There were several paradigms in play, actually, through which they had to filter information through. One was the culture they were born into as defined by their fictional world, another was the world they moved to in that world, living in the greater Japan human world, and in that particular world, the human monster coexisting world with its own rules and developing culture, their group culture of living with each other, there individual monster group nature, which could be a culture, whatever culture vectors Timothy impressed upon them on bring thing here, manifesting them as Tulpas in this wonderland, and the wonderland’s influence, and now, Jon’s cultural influence on them. And though culturally he was having an effect, not just his primarily American culture, but also his magical culture, and definitely his male culture. And most of these ‘cultures’ were mixing secretly, sub-contextually, and working itself out through the unconscious. They didn’t have to be addressed directly to be provoked, but Jon was fairly sure if he reminded them of their culture not to harm humans, or their adopted Japanese not to kidnap men, and to show respect for others, he certainly believed they would behave differently. Provided Timothy hadn’t completely fucked them over to the point they were as good as the kids in that book ‘Lord of Flies.’ If there is a female, nurturing nature, which Jon didn’t wholly ascribe to, or there would be more good mothers by definition, he definitely believed he could win their friendship. They seemed to consider a bit too long, not speaking, looking at each other, and the longer they went, the less sure Jon felt about his situation. Rachnera handed Suu a glass of water, which she ‘downed’ fairly quickly.
“It would make things easier for me if he wasn’t tied,” Centorea said.
“He just admitted to be a magician,” Rachnera said. “We should just conclude our business with him and kill him.”
Suu push a tentacle into the cup, trying to catch every last drop from the cup, using a finger to lick the sides of the cup. “We’re not going to kill him,” she said. She sounded significantly different, and given what Jon knew about her from the series that suggested the water she was drinking was rather pure. Out of the series, Suu was Jon’s favorite. Miia was second. Rachnera scared him and drew him in at the same time. He was rather indifferent about Centorea, except for the curiosity about logistics. Then he realized, oh, this is my connection with Timothy. They wouldn’t be here if not for his own peculiar interest in them.
Miia raised an eyebrow. “We’re not?”
“I like him,” Suu said. “He is not Timothy. He is not buyer. He will protect us.”
“What math are you using to arrive at that?” Centorea asked. “One, he is male, and human males, when not governed by a group of females, tend to be controlling and abusive.” Suu shrugged. “He is nice. He taste like coffee. Besides, there is four of us, one of him, and nowhere to go but in, and if he goes in then clearly he is a friend of Timothy and it would be in our best interest to let him go, rather than suffer an attack by Timothy for killing him. Timothy always wins.”
The entire party became pretty sullen.
“I haven’t had a turn with him yet,” Miia said. “I was so looking forward coiling and squeezing.”
“If you let me go, I promise not to harm any of you, and, I am not opposed to coiling and squeezing, provided you will recognize a safe word and ease up if I am hurting,” Jon said.
“Really?” Miia asked, perking up.
“Don’t be suckered in, Miia. That’s too good to be true. What is your purpose here?” Rachnera asked.
“I don’t fully understand that, yet. My top goal, for certain, is to get home,” Jon said. “But so there is no misunderstanding, I will be upfront with you that one of my mission objectives is to find a way to save Timothy.”
“We should kill him now,” Rachnera said.
“No,” Suu said. “That was bravery to admit that and I want to understand it.”
“There is nothing to understand,” Rachnera argued, slapping the ground with several feet. “Timothy is awful! How can anyone want to save him?!”
“That is so weird that I too want to hear more,” Centorea said.
“Fine. Explain yourself, human,” Rachnera said, jabbing the fire with a bamboo stick.
“It is my belief that there is no death. Timothy created this place, called a wonderland, using dark magic. If I can understand this world, change it from a dark place to a place of light and love, then maybe Timothy himself can change,” Jon said.
“Timothy must die,” Rachnera said. “I intend to kill him, personally.”
Jon nodded. “I can only imagine how much anger you hold. I have no clue what you or your friends have suffered. As a free being to another free being, I cannot tell you what to do. I can only advise that this will not erase your grievances and might add weight to your own soul.”
“How dare you speak of my soul. He deserves to die. You don’t know what he’s done to us, to the countless others,” Rachnera said, coming at him with sharpened, smoking end of a bamboo. She put it against his neck.
“Rachnera,” Suu said, standing. “This man has not harmed us.”
There was silence. Rachnera was shaking, fierce eyes flamed. Her friends were all standing, on the far side of the fire, afraid if they intervened or drew closer, the human would be harmed. Firelight reflected in their eyes. Miia was actually tearful. Suu drank the tear with a tentacle.
“Rachnera, for now, I must vote with Suu,” Miia said. A drop of blood rolled down Jon’s neck.
“Let him live,” Centorea said.
Rachnera howled, turned, and walked away from the group, crying. Miia used the discarded bamboo to cut the webbed bondage, allowing Jon to unwind himself. He stood, first securing his clothing back, and then massaged his wrists. The three at the fire waited, as if anticipating a retaliatory strike. He brought his hands together and bowed, respectfully, expressing gratitude for his freedom.
“May I use the restroom?” Jon asked.
Miia showed him how to use the facility, which was an open, public toilet, exposed to the outside. When he finished, he washed his hands. Suu approached him, very interested in the smell of water.
“Would you give me a moment to speak with Rachnera?” Jon asked the three of them.
They silently gave consent. Jon approached Rachnera slowly, making sure she was aware of his presence so as not to frighten her. She shuffled, turning away from him, and stepping a little bit further away.
“Would you speak with me?” Jon asked. “I am ashamed,” Rachnera said. “Because?” Jon asked.
Rachnera turned to him, almost frighteningly aggressive. Jon did not flinch. “How can you not know?” Rachnera said.
“I could speculate, if you like, but it’s always better to allow someone to speak their peace,” Jon said.
“You can’t be that good,” Rachnera said.
“Because, if I am that good that makes your perceived offense that much worse?” Jon asked.
Rachnera wailed, tears flying. She threw the human portion part of her body on the ground and begged forgiveness. Jon sat on the ground, pulling her head to his shoulder, putting his arms around her.
“You think you know who you are,” Jon said, stroking her hair, which he fangled and difficult to draw his fingers through, and would stop and start over, trying not to cause her pain. “That you come from a mysterious world, perhaps a dark place, but for sure, you ended up in a very dark place, manipulated by a very lost soul, and you are experiencing trajectories. Does that relieve us of responsibility for our choices? No. But as far as I am concerned, you and I are okay. There is no grievance here. No debt.”
“Which just makes me all the more indebted,” Rachnera said.
“No, it makes you freer,” Jon said. “But hopefully sufficiently free to experience and express love in a more profound way than you have previously. Let us return to the fire. Let us return to your friends.”
Rachnera rose and Jon stood, and together they walked back to the fire, hand in hand. The sky was almost all dark, except for lightening shooting across the dark side of the planet, and the one moon that this moon chased.
Jon sat down at the fire. He removed his flask from his pocket and took a sip. For him, it was just water. Great water. Suu’s attention escalated.
“Just a sip, and then pass it,” Jon insisted.
Suu agreed. For her, it was likely the same water Jon drew, but unless someone revealed what the Universe provided, no one would know. A sparkle in her eye and significant change in aura suggested she had drawn extremely deep water, as a deep love and respect for all of the Universe emanated from her. Just that sipped made her a force to contend with. Centorea sniffed, not smelling anything, but almost suspected the contents were drugged, based on Suu’s reaction. She sipped, then took a hardy drink, deciding if it was poison, it the best poison she had had in a long time. She was floored, having missed the taste of her favorite soda, and mentioned how amazing the flavor was, as if it was freshly squeezed and carbonated. Miia grabbed the flask and drank, finding a nice sip of wine. She protested that it wasn’t soda, good but not Soda. Jon explained everyone gets what they need. Rachnera didn’t disclose what she got, but it satisfied her immensely. Jon next passed a bag of pecans that he drew from his pocket.
“Alright, ladies. I need you to educate me. Tell me everything you know about this world.”
निनमित
The information about how they each came to be here didn’t help, but seemed consistent between the three of them. They woke up, unable to move, and Timothy was doing perverse things to them. As a relatively inexperienced magician and Tulpamancer, he believed some of what they were describing was simply the process of ‘Forcing,’ or the creating process. Some of it was definitely just Timothy satisfying his sexual urges. Jon was fairly sure they were indeed Tulpa’s, but they believed they were the characters that they thought they were and he saw no need to disillusion them at this point. They seemed to have their fictional, historical memories intact, but as Jon wasn’t a ‘dedicated’ fan, he could not be completely sure, and so was unable to discern anachronisms, much less discrepancies in cannon. Had they been Star Trek characters, he would have immediately recognized divergence.
“Our habitat is pretty much what you see. We live in a grassy world under a dome and nothing outside the dome besides ice,” Centorea said. “The diameter of the dome floor is one kilometer across the base, and this station is at the center.”
“And then there is the entrance to the tunnel,” Miia said. “Tunnel?” Jon asked. “Where does it go?”
“We were brought through the tunnel to here,” Rachnera said. “Can I see the tunnel?”
“No,” they all said in unison. “It makes us sick to even think to go near it.”
“If we enter it, we will die,” Suu said.
“I may need to explore there,” Jon said.
“If Timothy catches you exploring, he will kill you,” Miia said. Jon mused about this. “I don’t think he will be coming back.” The girls perked up. “Really?”
“I don’t know this for sure, but I think as long as I am here, he can’t come back here,” Jon said. Previously, he was in Timothy’s body. Right before he came here, he felt as if he had been switched out, and so his suspicion was that he was here and Timothy was there. Based on his knowledge of Timothy, he held absolutely no skill in traveling or sustaining himself in a Wonderland, and if it hadn’t been for Fribourg’s switching with him, he would have had no staying power in any of the Universes he may have created. That said, even locked in his body, Timothy had the potential for being seriously dangerous with his intent and accidental thoughts. If Jon thought about it really hard, he could discern a path back to the body, but he didn’t want to test it or alert Timothy to his presence here. “I may be wrong, but that feels true. At least for the moment. And I need to know as much as I can if I am going to make any positive, lasting changes, or at the least be ready to confront him.”
“Wait, if he isn’t here in charge, does that mean the food will stop dispensing?” Rachnera asked.
“I don’t know,” Jon said.
Jon returned to the monolithic structure. It was thin and offered no apparent seams that might allow for examining the inner workings. He tried to explore it telepathically, touching it the way Spock might, and then tried seeing inside by remote viewing, but the images he got didn’t make sense.
“You’re weird,” Suu said.
“Thank you,” Jon said, walking around the monolith until completing a circle. “Has it ever ran out of food?”
“We have never not had food,” Centorea said. “The grass is eatable, too, at least, I like it, but the rice/fish blocks seem more nutritious.”
Jon found the sharp bamboo that Rachnera had used to threaten him. He began digging at the base of the monolith, first peeling up the grass roots, and then digging deeper. The girls gathered around, curious. He uncovered an earthworm. They screamed. Because they screamed, he assumed it was dangerous and backed away from his excavation. He then frowned.
“Really?” Jon asked them.
The monster girls agreed they didn’t like worms.
Jon returned to digging. The girls watched. At some point, the dirt became too thick to work with the bamboo. His hands became dirty and he got a blister from his effort. He even broke a nail and cut his hand on the bamboo. Suu tried to keep the perspiration of his forehead, and kept a tentacle on the back of his neck. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife. The girls were impressed.
“By the knife?” Jon asked.
“What else do you have in there?” Miia asked, her hands going into his coat pocket before he could protest. She became sullen. It was just an empty pocket, with a very clear boundary, which was insufficient to explain the presence of the knife.
“It’s not what’s in the pocket I want,” Centorea said. Jon looked up at her, exhausted from his effort. “Uh?”
“There are better things to be doing than digging a hole,” Centorea said. “Like maybe filling a hole.”
“You did promise some coiling and squeezing time,” Miia reminded him. “I always keep my promise,” Jon said. “Let me finish this, please.”
“Men!” Miia said. “They say they all they want is sex, but when offered, they rarely engage.”
“Yeah, that’s weird. And I don’t know who ‘they’ are, but I assure you of this, all I want is sex, most of the time, and if you keep offering, I will take it,” Jon said, as he stabbed the knife into the earth. He hit something hard.
“Take me now,” Miia said.
“Hang on, I think I found something,” Jon said.
The girls gathered close again, watching for the worm which Jon had delicately placed aside to prevent injury. They were impressed, both by his gentleness, and his magical ability to attend to worms, even touch them.
The hole was about three feet deep. He cleared as much as the dirt off the hard spot as he could, but still couldn’t determine what he had hit. Even bringing a lighter out and holding it in the hole, he couldn’t really see what it was. It was hard and he guessed it was metal. He leaned his back against the monolith, closed his eyes, and tried to follow the floor with his intuitive mind. It felt solid for the entire length of the dome. Outside the dome, and below the dome, all he got was the impression of white and cold. He stood up, washed his hands, and before he could dry them on his coat, Suu began licking. The wounds, the cut and the blisters, healed under her attention.
“Wow. I didn’t know you could do that,” Jon said. “Me neither,” Suu said.
“Has she ever healed any of you before?” Jon asked. “No, that’s new,” Miia said.
“What does it mean?” Rachnera asked.
“Must be something in the water she drank from the flask,” Centorea surmised. “Well, let’s not question a gift horse,” Jon said, hugging Suu. “It’s not crucial to understand the why. Let’s walk.”
“No, I want to understand. You told me earlier, I am not who I think I am, and Suu just manifested an ability we don’t remember her having, and so, there is something going on here,” Rachnera said.
Jon considered the problem. Tulpa’s could be initially unstable, especially when confronted with conflicting information. Even with the most ideal situations, they could deviate wildly from their original design. Just the simple interaction with them alone could have provided sufficient tangential vectors that they were subject to change. What would happen if he just simply told them the truth?
Miia and Centorea crossed their arms in front of their chests, which flattened them. The gesture suggested they were not pleased with him, but the seeing the breast completely distracted him from his quandary.
“You should probably just tell us,” Miia said.
Being distracted from the active conscious deliberation allowed for the unconscious to push an answer. Apparently, he was going to tell the truth, as he understood it, and it was out before he could truly process the ramifications. “I think you histories are false memories and you are not who you think you are,” Jon said, straight way, not mincing words.
“Our memories are our memories,” Centorea said.
“How else could it be?” Miia agreed. “Our memories define who we are?”
“Memories due provide scaffolding to support our basic premises, but that is not who we ultimately are. There is always something more profound hidden deeper, under all the suspected structures.”