Chapter 9
Sex with monsters is actually quite good, apparently, because afterwards, Jon found himself quite satisfied, and very sleepy. Laying in the grass, looking up at the sky, the moon evidently preceding back into the day side, as evidenced by the light reflecting back from the gas giant. Which meant, what? The moon was tidally locked facing the Jovian planet. He was surrounded by monster girls, his head on Suu, and probably the most comfortable pillow he had ever experienced. Centorea was asleep on her feet, facing him, looking down over him. Jon forced himself to get up, slowly so as not to disturb his new companions, and showered under the monolith’s shower, which was freezing cold and resulted in a quick, just business affair shower. He dressed.
In his mind, he heard Loxy speaking to him: “All beings, magician status or not, always get their wishes. What people don’t realize is, the wish comes true as well as its most direct opposite, as well as everything in between. If you find yourself experiencing something, and it is neither intolerable nor the most pleasant, you might consider yourself grateful for not hitting an extreme. The only difference between a magician and non-magician is that the magician has a higher probability of landing more towards the ideal outcome of the wish, as opposed to the opposite. And having the complete wish come true is rarely as good as the in-between places.” It felt more like listening to a Tedtalk as opposed to a parental lecture, or even a regular lecture. He wondered if he would end up in a class that she was teaching, or if the was not possible due to the nature of his relationship with her. And then he realized another truth. She was always with him. It didn’t matter where he was in the Universe, when he was in the Universe, or who he was with, she was there, in his mind. Which means, she knew about the monster sex. “Jon, I am a superstar. Do you really think if I was casted with Keenu Reeves that there won’t be a kissing scene?”
“I did more than kiss,” Jon said.
“So did I,” Loxy said. “Be at peace, Jon.”
“I love you,” Jon thought. He heard no response.
By the time he was dressed, the monster girls were awake. “Where you going?” Suu asked.
“I need to explore,” Jon said.
And just like that, they decided to accompany him. It wasn’t long before they arrived at the spot where he first arrived and was ambushed by Rachnera. He found, discarded in the grass as if useless, his M.A.S.H mailbag and quickly grabbed it up.
“I thought I had this with me,” Jon said. “It was empty,” Rachnera said.
“The entire universe is in here!” Jon corrected her.
The girls seemed skeptical. Jon proved it by drawing something out of a bag. It turned out to be girl clothes. He seemed somewhat embarrassed and was about to shove it back in, but Centorea grabbed it from him.
“You carry girl clothes in your bag?” Centorea asked.
“Umm, these are probably for you,” Jon said, hoping that to be true.
Not only did they fit Centorea, they were perfectly attuned to what she would normally pick for herself. The remaining monster girls demanded they each have a new outfit. They wanted magical support bras, the kind the held the ladies up with most comfort, which would pushed them into their ideal, distracting position. Miia complained that her blouse didn’t fit, and it did indeed look too small and only squashed her bosom more, and forcing the button down was likely to make a projectile missile. He tried several times to give her the next size up, but for whatever reason, it always came out the same size with the same ‘push the boobs up in his face’ distracting cleavage line.
“Never mind. Do you like it?” Miia asked. “I love it,” Jon said.
“I want a tighter shirt,” Rachnera said. “I want more water,” Suu said.
“No,” he friends said, blocking her unfair advantage for boob expansion.
While they dressed, Jon pulled clippers out of a bag to attend to a broken fingernail he had damaged while digging. The girls stopped.
“What else is in there?!” Miia demanded, grabbing the bag and looking in. Centorea took the clippers. “OMG, no more biting my nails!”
“I want my own pair,” Rachnera said. “I want a hair brush!” Miia said.
Jon produced an assortment of grooming supplies, makeup, mirror case, torch, and produced purses so they could carry their items.
“May I have a sword?” Centorea said.
“I am not opposed to you having one, but I prefer not to produce weapons,” Jon said. “For defense? In case Timothy comes back?” Centorea asked.
“No,” Jon said.
Centorea pouted for a moment, but the application of makeup seemed to appease her present need. Jon was baffled, as it was not like they were about to go out on the town, so there was really no need for all the fuss. When the girls were sorted, they continued their walk and arrived near the edge of their habitat. There was clearly a dome, glass wall, but they were separated by a forest of bamboo. To get there, Jon pulled out a large garden sheer, and cut a path through the bamboo. The girls demanded he use the sheers to clean several bamboo so they had perfect ‘walking staffs’ and he consented, knowing full well they weren’t just for walking. They eventually arrived at the wall and stared out across a desolate, icy landscape. It was almost perfectly flat.
“It looks cold,” Rachnera said. “It looks lonely,” Suu said.
“It looks hungry,” Centorea said. They looked to her for an explanation. “There’s no grass.”
They left the small path Jon had made and began walking the circumference of the dome.
The girls were slowing down. They did not want to go where he was heading. He stopped and they seemed relieved.
“Tell me what you’re experiencing?” Jon asked.
Each described stomach cramps and rising fear. It was clear if he was going to explore further, he was going to have to do it alone, but they were adamant that he not leave them. Then, he decided, it was time to try some magic. He took three of the bamboo poles they had collected, stuck two in the ground, a door width apart, and with Rachnera’s help, he secured the ramining one to the other two with spider web, which provided a sturdy enough arch for him to open a gateway. He had no idea if this was going to work, but by now he was determined and curious enough to try.
“What are you doing?” Suu asked.
“I am making a door way,” Jon said. “To nowhere?” Rachnera said.
“Are you kidding, the entire universe is just through there,” Jon said, pointing. He hoped. “I just got to decide where I am sending you.”
“Sending us? We don’t want to leave you,” Miia said. They all agreed.
“I have to explore, and you are physically or psychologically conditioned not to,” Jon said. “Besides, this the best way to secure your safety in the event something happens to me.”
“Can we go to your home,” Centorea asked.
“You don’t want to go back to where you came from?” Jon asked.
“What if you’re right, there is no place to go, or we go and we are copies, and then there are twice as many mouths to feed,” Rachnera asked.
“Can you imagine two Suus on you if you got wet?’ Miia asked.
“Yeah, actually,” Jon said. He shook it off. “You want to go my place?”
“Where is your place?” Miia asked.
“Far, far away, in a time long ago,” Jon said. “You’re messing with us?” Centorea said.
“No, I am seriously considering Centorea’s,” Jon said. “To live, permanently?” Suu asked.
“If you like. There are lots of opportunities to explore, and my friends are there,” Jon offered. “You’d be away from here and outside of Timothy’s reach.”
They decided they would like to go. Jon touched the bamboo, closed his eyes, and came up against his first hard block: he had the sudden realization that doing this would create a permanent line of communication between Timothy’s world and his. What he wouldn’t do for a spaceship! He sorted: if there was to be true transformation, there had to be lines of communication, exchange, and risk. He pushed a wormhole and established a gateway. When he opened his eyes, he saw familiar features of the Harister Hall as seen from the moon gate. There was insufficient information through the gate to see that it had been moved, but he knew it had been moved, and was closer to the Bliss Safe Haven Campus, but on the outside of the lake, near the bridge that crossed to the island. The monster girls were impressed.
“Will we be accepted there?” Rachnera asked.
“It’s my world, if you’re there, you’re safe,” Jon said. “Now, you will be arriving near the college, and college kids can be a bit weird, but tell them you’re my friends, and ask for Loxy, or Alish, or Keera. People there will know who you’re looking for, and they will help sort you.”
“What about you?” Suu asked. “I am afraid for you.”
“Aww,” Jon said, hugging her. “I will be alright. I am fairly confident. Skeptically so, which is healthy, as opposed to the arrogant confident, that comes with blindness and gets people killed. I am alright.”
“What do we do?” Miia asked. “Just, walk right through,” Jon said.
Miia led and came up upon a barrier like hitting a glass door. She was stunned. “Oh!”
“Wow,” Jon said. He assessed her; she was hurt, but not damaged. He then focused on the gateway. He was able to push a hand through and pull it back. He was not being magically blocked. “Wow.”
“What’s going on?” Rachnera asked.
Jon shrugged, but also gave a hands up signal to wait while he sorted. He closed his eyes and sought information, intuitively. The first words that came to his head, he muttered out loud. “Intellectual rights?! You mean property?”
“We’re property?” they all exclaimed.
Jon moved around the girls mentally, and found within each one of them an identifier, locator tag. He muttered under his breath. The monster girls became a bit concerned because the conversation Jon had next was fairly bizarre, and made him appear schizophrenic.
“Alright, how do I do this?” Jon asked. “Okay, I am not just trying to steal them to appease my sexual appetite. I actually care about their wellbeing and I am opposed to them being considered property, and I am definitely opposed to trafficking them. I appreciate that people are allowed to create thought forms, and that we do it all the time, but these are sentient, and I am attached, and I am seeking the highest possible good of all involved. I want to appeal. No, take it to my higher self, and ask my HS to speak to Timothy’s HS, and determine an arrangement. I already admitted to that, I recognized I am bias. Okay. Thank you.” There was a long pause. The girls asked him questions but he didn’t respond. “So, what I hear you saying is, as long as I am on Timothy’s side of the veil, I have to play by his rules. I am curious, and not trying to be disrespectful, I am just seeking understanding. I thought we were like all one, the universe is one and all separation is illusion, delusion? and we should all get along, and so moving my new companions should be as simple as requesting a visa?” there was another substantial pause. “Oh. Well, yeah, I guess that makes sense. Yes, I am lying, it makes absolutely no sense to me, but I guess I don’t have to understand, I just have to abide by the established protocols until alternative pathways present themselves. What’s the going rate of monster girl slaves? Really!
That’s absurd. Are people really paying that? No, I have it. Wait, wait, wait. Let me check with my accountant.”
The monster girls gave a shout and stepped back away from Jon, as a squirrel emerged from the gate, ran up and whispered something into his ear, and then back down, waved/winked at the girls, and then went back through the gate.
“I accept. The exchange has been wired. Please, unlock and disable their chips,” Jon said. “Oh, forgive me. Thank you all for conversing with me. And for educating me.”
When Jon opened his eyes, he might have fallen had Cenorea not caught him. He staggered, holding on to her until he regained his balance.
“What was all of that?” Rachnera said.
“It’s best if you don’t ask,” Jon said. “I am still trying to compartmentalize it myself, so not likely to give you an explanation you can sort.”
“Did you just buy us?” Miia asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest, pushing her boobs up impressively.
“Ummm,” Jon said, closing his eyes, sorted, then opened and surrendered. “Yes.
Technically, you’re now my property, so behave.”
They all lined up, crossing their arms, about to protest.
“OMG,” Jon said. “I am not going to exercise property rights on you. I made the exchange because it was the best way to expedite your departure and free you of Timothy’s claim on you, which, was a legit claim, and I was being blocked from pursuing a higher court by the more immediate players.”
“How can it be legit?! We’re free, sentient, people,” Rachnera said.
“You are. And so, any social binds are generally socially agreed upon binds, even if you aren’t aware of the binds,” Jon said.
“We would never agree to sell ourselves to the likes of Timothy,” Centorea said, stomping a hoof.
“Have you ever wished your life was better, without defining all the possible defining qualities of what better looks like?” Jon asked. “Ever wished you weren’t where you were?
That’s how these things start. Innocuous, small wishes that invite entrepreneurs…”
“Predators!” Miia said.
“Technically, not a bad distinction, but inappropriate when all exchanges are negotiated on a subtle level,” Jon said. “And in a materialistic society, people will sell a piece of their soul for a shade of lipstick and a piece of ass, and even if you don’t get the lipstick or the ass, the deal gets done, because it was about the opportunity, not the follow through, and then once they’re in, they usually resort to tactics of degradation and control to maintain their hold, because they are nurtured through the wanting, not the having.”
“That’s just sick,” Rachnera said.
“It’s the nature of parasitic organisms, to take what they need, but not so much that it kills the host outright, because that’s not in the long term interest of the parasite,” Jon said.
“Why are there are parasites?” Suu asked.
“OMG, why are we still talking, you’re free?” Jon said. “Are you mad at me?” Suu asked.
Jon took a breath and recalibrated, bringing himself down. ‘Why am I frustrated? It was a reasonable question.’ He decided the truth was he didn’t really want to think about an answer set, because most of it would be speculative on his part. “No. I am holding a gateway and I am growing tired. Great question. I don’t have an answer.” He suddenly heard an answer inside himself. “Oh. Well that makes sense. There are no real parasites. We are all parasites, in the sense that we are dependent, at some level, upon a host. We can all get resupplied directly through source, but many creatures don’t feel worthy of source energy, so they get their needs met obliquely through other creatures. Since creatures can’t be killed by other creatures, exercising demons, or trying to kill them, has proven itself ineffective. War don’t work, it just makes more war, and makes more lost souls who feel disconnected from source, through shame and fear. Instead, the goal now is to reconnect the lost, dark ones with source so that their relationship is repaired.”
“You are really weird,” Rachnera said.
“And yet, you slept with me,” Jon said. “Twice.”
“You were available,” Rachnera said.
“You settled, which is example of subtle negotiations that lead to parasitic relationships.
Lucky for you, today, I am the good guy and giving you freedom, now go through the door before I change my mind and want more sex.”
“I am okay with that,” they all said.
“Later! Go,” Jon said, ushering them towards the door.
Miia approached more tentatively, but when her hands passed through, she went all the way across. Suu was the last to go. She stopped, kissed Jon, and said, “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” Jon said.
Suu went through the door, and Gateway closed. Jon sighed, he was alone, on an icy moon world, belonging to Timothy. “Fucking twerp,” he mumbled in the direction of Timothy.
निनमित
Jon walked the boundary of the world until he came to a place where the bamboo thinned out and then became just wall and grass. He drew close to look out over the icy moon and in the distance spied a tube, which clearly intersected with his dome. He now had a destination, but he did not run. He walked. He arrived at a an airlock at his own speed, trying to keep his mind from too much speculative discourse, partly out of fear of creating his own monsters. He didn’t think he was in that world, but then again, he was a magician and tulpas were now a real part of his life.
He didn’t want to deal with accidental tulpas.
The controls to the airlock were simple enough and didn’t have security. Perhaps timothy was a bit cocky, or he figured his tulpa programming would prevent them from returning for reprisals. He proceeded down the tube, which floated above the ice for the most part, but occasionally rested on it, as if indicating frozen waves. It was a monotonous walk, forcing himself to check out mentally, and when he arrived, it seemed like he had just fast forwarded over the ‘boring’ stuff so that he could be where he needed to be. He found himself at intersection connecting four tubes. The center hub, connecting the tubes had a lift. The lift was basically a pod, and it reminded Jon of the pod you would put money in to send it to the teller from the car. He contemplated if he should follow the tubes or take the lift. He decided going in was the answer. He opened the lift door, which swung out wards, stepped in, secured it, and pressed the lower of the two buttons.
The button illuminated. The floor opened beneath the lift and the lift fell. Falling was the operative word. It fell! Jon’s feet left the floor. He was freefalling, in a glass lift, inside a vertical glass tube, through ice that was initially white tapering to black, and then into solid blackness. If not for the soft lighting from the lift buttons, and the recessed lighting of the lift floor and ceiling, he would be falling in darkness. His stomach was somewhere in his throat. His hands sought to hold onto something but found nothing. Surprisingly, after about thirty seconds of freefalling, he relaxed. Unlike Bill and ted, he didn’t scream for a full five minutes.
He did, however, think about cats. Did you know, cats sometimes jump off of apartment balconies? And did you know, there is actually a study that shows survival rates. If a cat jumps from the first four floors, they mostly survive, sometimes with broken limbs. From floor four to six, survival rate diminishes, and then surprising, from 6 to 10, survival rates increase. They studied this and determined that the higher the cat was, the more likely it was to relax and go into a pose that optimized wind resistance, and so impact was minimize through relaxed muscles. Jon was curious about the use of the word ‘study.’ Were scientist with white coats throwing cats off of balconies to prove their theory? None the less, the same thing was seen in car crashes with humans. A human who saw the impending crash and locked down on the steering wheel and tightened their muscles inevitably ended up with injuries, especially broken bones. This also explained why drunks often survived the crashes, where the other car occupants in either car, had higher rates of injury and death. The drunk was relaxed and rolled with it. Drunks frequently survive outrageous crashes with only few scratches. They’re not lucky, they’re just drunk.
Jon decided he did not want to be drunk, nor a cat, but as he was falling, and so, with he had nothing else to do but relax, he embraced the fall. He peered out into the darkness. He was pretty sure it was water. He wondered what the crush depth was of his tube and lift. Clearly the glass wasn’t ‘glass.’ Unless it was glass imbued with magic, but that would require a mage with a doctorate level spell… Oh, Fribourg could explain that. Technically, a really bored kid with a little knowledge could make a ‘wonderland’ that defied the natural physics, but it was unlikely that was Timothy. Most kids born in the 90’s or later had the attention span of a gnat. Not their fault, exactly, as the environment pushed so much stimulus towards people it was difficult not to be considered ADHD by the age of 6. Who would have thought, ‘attention’ and ‘awareness’ and ‘frustration tolerance’ is a learnable skill, not something people were born with. Jon was faced with crediting Fribourg or raising his esteem of Timothy. He decided to suspend speculation and just go with it.
A light fluoresced in the distance. Then another. More flashing lights, as if he was descending through a layer of fireflies. And then the world light up! Giant, illuminated jelly fish. Darting glowing torpedoes with arms, like squid. Strange fish that were more torpedo shaped than Earth fish shape shot by, twirling tails to propel themselves. Schools of flat fish, with no eyes, swam together. Some fish had eyes, but they were positioned on the center line of the fish, as opposed to closer to the top, that might indicate a preferred ‘up.’ Strange, floating things with tentacles ending in round eyes like structure, which was all eye with a single filament running the length of bulb ending to the stalk, as if it were a light bulb, only it absorbed light instead of projected it. Jon imagined the creatures could see in three dimensions with that one eye, its blind spot being the point it attached to the stalk, or tentacle. Something very similar to a whale shark pushed past, a giant funnel face ramming in huge quantities of water, and if the whale shark analogy was right, it was eating microscopic creatures, perhaps similar to plankton.
The lift began to decelerate, indicated by the fact his feet were coming naturally, slowly to the floor. As the lift continued to decelerate, he found he became heavier. He was relieved he wasn’t going to go flat on the surface like a pancake, but was also happy to be slowing down enough to enjoy the surrounding show of exotic aquatic life.
The lift landed on an appropriate size pedestal, allowing him to walk down stairs to the floor. The lift ended in a pocket bubble, glass, and he could see the sea floor. There was a larger domed structure behind him, his destination, but he wanted to watch the ‘steam’ rising from the vents, and the wild array of diversity taking advantage of the energy. Tube worms the size of trees, illuminated by manmade lights, perhaps Timothy’s habitat lights or intentional illumination to wipe out the darkness, so when looking out into the blackness of this ocean’s depth, it wasn’t so lonely. The floating glowing fish were higher up.
When his boredom of fish watching increased to the point he was ready to wonder to the next station, as if this was nothing more than an aquatic park, he headed for the airlock and passed through to the other side. A figure stepped up out of the shadow. The lights that traced the outline of the room went from soft yellowish orange to a red.
“Identify yourself, intruder,” she said. Long dark hair and an exaggerated female form, like a video game character pushed to extremes by an adolescent male on steroids, almost had Jon appreciating Timothy’s work. Cleary, this was a tulpa, and she was barely contained in her bikini style loincloth combo which might have been a darker alternate history of Egypt. Her necklace was back, and fanned out like keys on a circular piano. She was covered with symbols and script tattoos.
“Um, hello,” Jon said. He was pretty sure he was looking at a version of the Enchantress. “Wrong answer,” she said. “Access denied.”
She drew back her arm, the tattoos fluoresced moving towards her hand, and a ball of light emerged; she tossed it like a baseball. A thousand teeth flew at Jon. Jon blocked with a shield, and they were stopped, or rolled around him, but all clattered to the floor.
The Enchantress smiled. “Magician?!” she said. “Very well, we’ll do this the hard way.” She pushed through Jon shield as if it was just a trick of light, and threw a punch, which Jon blocked, unconsciously, retreating. He could only retreat to the wall or door. He ended up against the wall, both his hands up, arms crossed, her arms tangled up in his, and in her struggle to extricate herself from the block, had turned her back to him. He dropped his arms and held her, bear hug. She kicked and screamed a scream to increase the force of her kick, and stomping on his foot hurt. It didn’t cause him to let go. This was called a “SAMA” hold, which he had learned working as a tech on a psych ward that enabled him to prevent a person from harming themselves or someone else.
“Okay, fine, I underestimated your prowess in grappling range,” the Enchantress said. “Let me go.”
Jon let go. She immediately elbowed him the gut, and turned to punch him with fast and furious fists. He was not in a position to regain a hold, due to protecting his face, so he pushed forwards into her, forcing her to retreat, so that he could again retreat. She suddenly had a knife, and like Kirk in every fight he had ever been in, suddenly Jon’s shirt was cut, and a line of blood went across his chest. His first thought was, the material in the 23rd century was pretty flimsy, followed by ‘ouch, that hurt,’ then by, ‘damn, this is serious and she could hurt you,’ which caused him to retreat, only retreating caused him to fall, and he fell because his pants were down at his feet. Her “Zorro” swipe with her knife had also cut his belt and pants, and they had gone to his ankles. The Enchantress pounced on him, straddling him, driving her knife towards his heart, both hands on the hilt.
Jon blocked, holding the knife at bay.
“Shhh, it is okay, baby,” the Enchantress. “Just relax, and let this happen.”
Jon had flashbacks to “saving Private Ryan,” and this was the one scene in the whole movie that disturbed him the most. Of course, this was different in the fact that this wasn’t a war, and the attacker was deadly seductive, and her calm, hypnotic voice, the voice of a true magician, was pushing through his strength in increments.
“That’s right,” the Enchantress said. “This is going to happen. Let it be easy. Struggle less. Look into my eyes.”
Jon tried to rock, so he could roll her off, but she rocked her hips in counter balance. And revealed two things: something he had always wanted to know, was there something under her loin cloth, and now he knew. No. And, two, he had an erection. The Enchantresses eyes narrowed, and the pleasantness from assumed victory diminished.
“In your dreams,” the Enchantress said.
“Either you get off, or I will get off,” Jon warned.
The Enchantress laughed. “We’ll see who penetrates who first,” she said.
Jon again tried to roll her, and she resisted, which helped in terms of solidifying his position, and with a surprise thrust of hips, pushing her butt with thighs, she was lifted sufficiently that when she came back down, they were united. She gasped, but did not surrender her position or the knife. She was now closer to his heart. With each inhale, his chest touched the tip of the knife.
The Enchantress did not lose her cool, or at least, did not show it. Her eyes were fierce. Her determination resolved. In her eyes, Jon was as good as dead. And then, an evil grin spilled over her lips. She started gently rocking her hips.
“What are you doing?” Jon asked.
“Putting you to sleep, dear,” the Enchantress said.
Jon laughed. “You assume that I will fall asleep after I cum,” Jon said.
“Most men do, but even if you don’t, I will push the knife through in your moment of weakness, when ecstasy robs you of your strength,” the Enchantress said.
“Make a deal,” Jon said.
“Why? I am clearly in the superior position. You’ve lost,” the Enchantress said. “If you cum first, you let me live,” Jon said.
The Enchantress laughed, and Jon was able to push her hands up. She stopped and resumed her effort, leaning into the knife, grinding harder against him. “I don’t think so.”
“The harder you grind, the more likely you will cum,” Jon said.
“Your words have the power of a hypnotist, but you should know, I have never orgasmed,” the Enchantress said.
“Seriously? Would you like to?” Jon asked.
“I am seriously about to kill you and you’re worried that I have never gotten off?” the Enchantress said.
“It could explain your darkness. I might be able to lighten your load,” Jon said.
“I like my darkness where it is and your load, though insignificant in weight, isn’t likely to lighten me,” the Enchantress said.
“We’re both burning calories, losing weight,” Jon said.
“Do you always hold conversations with people trying to kill you?” the Enchantress asked.
“Usually. Especially when I am getting fucked at the same time,” Jon said.
“And, like most men, you just assume that you’re so good you can get me off through penetration alone,” the Enchantress said.
“Well, no, as a Texan, I believe I should get a woman off through oral before I take my turn, but your death foreplay kind of changed the dynamics of my preferred interaction,” Jon said.
The Enchantress stopped her grinding and Jon nearly was able to separate her hands. She refocused her efforts.