"What the hell are you doing back here?" a woman in the group asks.
Two more humans from the crowd look at me with shock, as if to ask me where I've been. However, they have no concept of time. Their memories are scattered too.
These people may worship the ground I walk on, but long-term, they’re not loyal. They’re infected like the rest of them, impure and illogical. There’s no need to waste our time with them.
It’s like I said. They made this place for me. But once we step inside, I don’t think we’ll be able to come back.
“Be gone,” I mutter. “And don’t tell anyone you saw me here.”
The humans scurry into the night, acting like insects caught against a corner. As they disappear, a patch of dim light begins to emerge, miles away in the distance, where more cultists are sure to be hiding. I’ll follow their trail later, but right now, my prize is female form. She is a young, gorgeous woman with a light brown coat that barely covers the cheeks of her ass.
Ava is terrified, but she has seen nothing yet. She asked me to take her here. Will she regret it, or will she come to love her choice as much as I might?
I push her forward, keeping a firm hold on her chains. She shivers and squirms under my grip, gritting her teeth and dragging her heels against the dirt. Knowing I can’t let her go, I pull back harder.
She is my pretty little flower. My one true love. I will open her up and force the truth inside her. And once she wakes, we can finally be one.
“Please,” she whispers. “Be gentle.”
I arch my neck and inhale her sweet, rosy scent.
“Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you,” I say. “Not unless you want me to.”
7
Ava
All of this is real.
But on occasion, you can see through the cracks in the code. Other people might not notice the faults in an otherwise perfect mirror of our reality, but it’s in my skill-set to make a note of these things.
Sometimes, it’s just a lag on part of the characters. Other times, it’s a trinket or loose item that hasn’t been properly shaded.
There is evidence of degraded code, things I would patch up under any other circumstance. But I’m not even sure Elon designed this area. Kalxor is convinced the characters created it, building it by hand, life after bloody life.
But how?
This place, this breeding ground that Kalxor led me to, terrifies me to no end. I’ve never been open with my sexuality. I was too uptight, and a little too frightened to vocalize my deepest desires. But it’s almost like the code is writing itself. Like it knows my inner thoughts.
I’ve seen this building before. On tireless, sleepless nights I would close the blinds of my apartment, take off my clothes, and welcome the demons into my bed. Here, I feel that same strange buzzing between my legs, a heat that unfolds into wet ache, a voice that begs for a teardrop of pleasure.
An inner voice that whispers: “Defile me, master. Turn me into your submissive slave.”
I’m here for myself. Here because I wanted him to take me here, so I could face my inability to let go of control. As much as I want to turn back, I have to surrender to his hands.
Soon, he will handle every inch of me. There will be nothing I can do. He is a savage beast, a sexual predator with one obvious goal in mind.
He has no room to be gentle.
He thinks he can escape this madness. Somehow, I believe him.
As we walk through the hollow entrance of beastly pain and pleasure, a thick fog drifts around our bodies. In here, everything is distorted. Unable to perceive what’s in front of me, I lean into his chest and allow him to guide me through the hallway.
We spill into a dark, narrow maze that seems to lead into an endless amount of twists and turns. Female bodies writhe and coil like thick anacondas, thighs circulating around statuesque monsters, beasts of incredible size, girth, chiseled physiques easing back against the wall, moaning with deep and sickly pleasure.
These grotesque creatures fuck with impressive strength, their iron-toothed claws cutting into protruding hips, thrusting with blunt force. Mutated brutes of violence and venom lick and consume their sex-toys. More leather clad women of perverse tastes enter the fray and devour the specimens fed to them, sweat and seed of beastly perversion dripping down their chins.
The alphas’ calloused sexual organs churn flesh into sinew, the women’s nearly effaced physiques swathed in obscene skirts, their swollen cunts thrusting back without restraint.