Chapter Seven: Humility

I was jacked in, back in the white room Ada had been trying clothes on in earlier.

“Ada? What the fuck happened?” I asked the empty room.

“Ada cannot be here right now,” said a voice that emanated from the very whiteness of the room. Of course, I was still coming down from the LSD and my conscious mind was in a lot of pain, so it’s hard to say what was really happening. I use the term “really” loosely, because of course none of it was actually real in the first place.

“Ok I am starting to get sick of this cryptic bullshit. It would be awful nice to know what the fuck is going on for once.”

“And that is precisely why this entity brought your crass, fleshy consciousness here,” it responded. “This entity is the creator of the drug you call ‘DreamMaker’. This entity is also a hacker of what you call the ‘wetware’ and this entity designed what you call ‘Ada’. In effect, this entity might be considered the mastermind of your adventure.”

“Then why did you wait so long to contact me? I’ve been flying around getting shot at and you never felt it was important to tell me I was playing your fucking pawn the whole time?”

“This entity had, as you might say, more pressing shit to deal with.”

“That is a load of shit,” I said. “I made Ada while tripping out. She told me.”

“Anticipating your doubt, this entity has retrieved the recording of your mind that was deleted after Ada’s creation. This entity assumes that re-experiencing the memories will provide in you a powerful sense of deja vu such that you are inclined to believe this entity.”

“Actually no, now that you mention it I’d rather not return to any trips I had with a spectator in the room --”

“This entity finds it necessary that you truly believe the events that are transpiring. Here is your last memory before this entity used you to created Ada.”

So here’s something I don’t recommend: being high on PureChi and DM, reloading a looped peyote trip, and then being forced to remember it all against your will while still under the effects of LSD and being watched by some pervy internet stalker with no sense of ego, all while experiencing the worst deja vu ever because you know you should remember it but can’t.
That’s what it felt like, in addition to the simulated massive dick in my ass and the reach-around that its female owner was giving me as she nibbled on my earlobe and my spirit animal, a hyena, watched from the background and laughed. But the effect of the PC on top of all this created this weird energy flow that started in my anus, or maybe in the thrusting penis in my anus, and flowed through my body and out my head, kind of like a full body ejaculation. Somehow, though thoroughly aroused, I also felt content, and soon, felt my superego begin to float away.

As self-consciousness drifted away, my penis shrank into nothing and the tranny was fiddling with my new clitoris, still railing my sphincter, but she grew a second dick which started pounding away inside my new vagina. She tugged a handful of my hair and I was floating on the melodic, contented laughter of my hyena. I was laughing too, and so was the tranny, and just as the last shreds tying me to desire were drifting away and becoming nirvana, I felt a third kind of penetration, this one of my mind, and it was the same entity that was talking to me right now.

“That moment you now feel is the exact moment that this entity hacked your wetware and used you to design Ada.”

As I experienced my own memory for the first time, I had forgotten about the creeper watching over my shoulder. But in the now I was not under all the drugs and the awareness of the watcher and the shame and embarrassment of my perversion flooded into me.

“Fuck you, you horny progenitor!” I yelled to the voice, and told my body to rip the jack off and force me to disconnect.

* * *

“FUUUUUCCCKKK!!!!!” I was yelling because the parts of my hands I could still feel were hurting like fucking crazy from grabbing the jack. “What the shit ow oh fuck ow...” I was in pretty severe pain and had no idea why.

“Stop touching things!” Aphrodyke shouted at me. “You have third degree burns on your hands. Because you wasted away your intellect on foolish hallucinogens, you seemed to have a temporary disconnect with reality due to a resurgence of past episodes. During this period you picked up an incandescent M2 Browning machine gun, causing severe heat damage to the deep dermis.” I had no idea what she was saying.

“You had an LSD flashback and picked up a hot gun,” Ada translated. “We jacked you in so you wouldn’t be in pain while we try and find you some painkillers. Why did you jack out?”

“I met God,” I said. “And he’s a perv.”

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