27 - Tutorial Dungeon

In front of my face, the Goals List appears:

Top, Arrange celebration of you collaring seedling, Bat pedestal with starsong

Top, Celebrate your enslavement to this game at the party friends arrange for you, Glistening emblem of embrace

Top, Arrange topic of home to be talked about when comfortable, Stiff weapon

Top, Complete training for using game system, Constant-velocity drive

The knowledge that I'm going to Arrange topic of home is fucked into my head, and I start talking, the choicelessness of it a fine wine:

"I have a--"

No, not squishy enough, towards Rada.

"Rada, if you'd be willing, umm, my game is making me ask for us to talk about this topic of 'home' when it's a good time? I think you'll probably say now but I think it's about to make me ask for some other stuff too so now might not be it."

Better. Does she even think this is cute or sexy? She acts like it. My voice is breathy with Lyra's continued thoroughness on my cock.

There's something weird with the goal. When I read it, it felt like my brain kept trying to see "heart" or "hearth" instead of "home", but the list definitely says "home".

"Yeah, if we're not together you can find me by asking my Klapta."

Now it moves my mind to know the next order (I can see why this instead of sex again, twice in a row would make me too dope to comply), words I'm going to speak: "The game has the ability to contact you by dreamtalk. Do you prefer that?"

"Yeah, thanks!"

Sproinging out of a dark little knot on the table in front of me, a shining black leather--it's not exactly a riding-crop, because the tip is made of silicone and lozenge-shaped, giving me all sorts of ideas for how and where it might be used tormentingly pleasantly.

Knowledge appears: I have three seconds to pick that up before I faint.

I snatch it up, succeed in the motion, and even remember to "yay!" squeakily.

Why is the fact that any intention to make it not be in my hand just produces no movement at all such a thrill? I can't even throw it down by changing intentions at the last instant--my hand just fails to open. I can swap it between my hands as I please, but not stick it under my arm, hold it in my teeth, or stash it in my cleavage.

The tip is obviously for rubbing or striking. Can I give my poor bored nipples a preview of Lyra's coming attractions?

It's a bit awkward, but I get the angle, and--gah. Instead of my clutch slipping, my muscles redirect so it slides askew of my body entirely! I can grab the end, the better to bend the springy shaft at Lyra like a stereotypical porn dominatrix--

HOT.

 Cock is clean put it beside you on a clean part of table down to table slluuuuurp...

I'm nice and hard from Lyra's attention, and a silly idea occurs to me. Surely this will qualify as playing with it as a toy: I take up my cock in my free hand, and raise it above my head to make a crossed-swords gesture with my new--if a riding crop has an end for whacking horses and country-listening subs, this must be a sex crop--I lift them together to make a crossed-swords gesture over my head, grinning wildly.

"Hehehehe you're such a silly thing!"

Bwahahaha BANZAI!

Lyra's reaction is gratifying, and Rada's humiliating--it has a good-size edge of "indulgent mother" which is assuredly there to make me squirm and which I suppose I'll never know if is genuine Tolerance or just messing with my perception of how pleasing I'm being for the fun of that.

I lower them, grinning still, and--start to faint?

Fuck, I'm not playing with my cock anymore! I quickly set it back where Lyra put it, and the drowning passes.

Much more strict than I think. Did I listen?

Why, why is this in particular so good, out of all the helplessness bolted onto me?

Knowledge arrives from the game: because it's like being in that safe little room I was thinking of earlier...but the "room" I'm being locked into is one where there's not space to do one single thing that isn't being the shape that makes my heart sing.

Out of nowhere, everything goes black with a weird color-changing effect, but only I seem to notice the change. The way the colors rotated almost looks like how I'd imagine--

Knowledge arrives: everyone is still where they just were. The game is running my consciousness really fast, so I can't see, because Rada doesn't have enough hard gamma illuminating the room for there to be anything that would redshift into visible light. For the same reason, I can't feel anything or hear anything or tell what my body is doing--the nerve-impulses haven't come in yet.

Fuck.

In the center of my vision, NES-font block letters spell out the single word:

 - PAUSE -

I'd burst out laughing, but my body is from my perspective, paused.

Nothing happens for a moment, so I start to mess around. If the game is paused, surely it's time to look at some status screens?

Knowledge arrives: the plain black sex crop isn't technically allowed by my self-expression rules, but I can't be allowed to not use it, either, which puts me in a no-win where either not holding it or trying to be masculine will make me faint, so the game paused me so I can fix it. I'm going to design a nice feminine look for it now. The safe closeness of the game's limits wraps around my mind: doing that is the only thing I can think about, but I can be as creative as I want, and all I have to do is think up how it should look. This doesn't just have to be a mundane sexcrop, either, I can make sparkles, and stars, and fireworks, fairy dust and magical lights for it to trail and flash as I use it--but they have to be entirely a passive effect, and they can't do anything but look pretty.

With my mind in this tight comfortable embrace, the ideas squeeze out of me like paint from a tube--I can't even slow down designing this, unless it's to ponder a feature of the design more carefully.

It's a bit terrifying how easily it goes, and how many ideas I have. I'm going to need an entire armory just for crops if this keeps up.

First, absolutely everything has to be sparkly or shiny or iridescent. I can change its physical form as long as I end up with the same kind of toy, too...curves should swoop. No angles or sharp edges except to define the flower-petals I'm about to design, and those should all be soft like the material of the end seems to be.

Colors: electric--no. Girls always give their colors silly names. Teravolt blue--

Hell yes bzzzt! Goddess would you try electricity with me?

Hey, you. You're speeded up too? Wait, no, that makes sense, if I run you run. Are you like, running on my brain? Is that why we can't be separated?

No Mommy I'm su'khora and yes you're like, impossible to untangle from me but I have my own substrate it's just not physical I'm an ontological life form which is usually just called spirit and you can't be separated from me because the definition-walls of my soul just mean that like you're the body that holds me in the form you can play with which is how you can shapeshift me I take the shape of the space you make for me and I can't change it but you can. If you run fast I have to too because you hold me together and I can't be put aside while you do stuff I have to just come too so here I am.

My heart melts to the thought of this, imagining her as silvery goo nestled in the spaces inside me...what's she mean by "walls of my soul just mean you're the body"? Cocksleeve?

Mommy it's how you talk in ontological physics. The meaning that holds my soul together is like a pointer just pointing to you like "the shape her desire gives me" so that makes me change when it changes. It keeps me so safe because humans have super-tough shells that you can't change because they're made out math not just identity and if you can have a human hold you inside them it's super-impossible to harm you. I'm squishy goo so I need a human to hold me like that which obviously is you Goddess and that means wherever YOU have consciousness so do I.

Without my body, I can only imagine hugging her sweetly, but she'll see me do that, so I do it.

Though to be honest, I feel like goo too, now...

Mommy if you make me imagine it with you for me it'll be like you're actually hugging me.

You can see exactly how I'm imagining it, and imagine with me, can't you!

I can Mommy which you can tell me you want me to but what I meant was just make me be part of your fantasy about it change the meaning so instead of 'imaginary hug imaginary cocksleeve' it's like 'imagine hugging cocksleeve'. Do you see the difference Goddess?

I think so--my heart warms as I try it. Yes, and there's sort of wiggly feeling that tells me she's trying to contribute the input of her actions to my fantasy, and when I find the knack of 'listening' (almost as for dreamtalk) for what she's doing she nuzzles happily into my--breasts, right--and looks up at me sweetly, then puts her eyes down.

Can I bend down and kiss her? Of course I can, it's my imagination. I could send us blasting across made-up skies in a diamond-studded Arwing, here and now...but I'd rather make out a little. It's weird, because I do have to juggle imagining kissing her with feeling for her responses, but an imaginary kiss with my real beloved seems according to my heart to be actual making out...

Yus kissing mmmf make out with you!

Unthinking, I open my eyes as I do sometimes to see hers closed with absolute focus on the kiss, forgetting I don't have any eyes to open at the moment, and there she is, just as I was imagining, but only for an instant.

Boo! Why'you stop kissing and hugging me Mommy?

Because I was imagining, and got distracted seeing her, which--the thought doesn't quite make sense. The loss of the imagined physical closeness makes me sad, so I imagine taking her hand, give her space to respond to this.

Grab your fingers tight.

Vision: me but my mouth is open and my nose is a cute cartoon animal nose.

Huh? Oh, aww! I imagine grazing noses again as we melt back into a kiss, then finish it properly and settle her against my chest and hold her tightly. Is she just being the polite little thing she always is, or is this not a two-way street? Cocksleeve?

Yes I'm trying to be polite Mommy but this isn't a two way connection you contain me by holding me inside you so I can only say stuff not make you imagine me.

Vision: cartoon face dog nose me

I 'look' down to her against my imaginary breasts, and she nuzzles them happily.

What happens if I imagine her like this while we're not in pause-hyperspeed? I get distracted daydreaming, heh, but...does your body like, fall asleep, little one? Do you have to manage both?

Goddess I exist where you imagine me. If you just put me in a fantasy I'll be in the fantasy and stop existing physically until you put me back with you in whereever you exist physically by imagining me there instead.

HAH! All this and I technically am imagining you? You're real, though, Rada can see you and you can touch things and keep cum inside you.

Yes Mommy you're imagining having me there with you and you feel me and see me and taste me and I can touch you and help physically because the way you imagine me is I'm physically actually real. I know you can't usually make things happen by imagining that way but I'm special I make physical and ontological have a gateway between them so I can take your cum into me and be fed on its meaning.

Interestingly, the game having "paused" me takes me out of my body a good deal, dulling the shaky heart-poundy weak feeling that was starting to set in as a result of...everything really...starting to overwhelm me. This also, sadly, deadens my feelings a bit, as whatever the hormonal mayhem my bloodstream must have become isn't able to quite so much make into such a quivery blubbery (I need to find out what's going on inside me, the...rearrangement...of my throat is per--slip--I can tell it's just the tip of the iceberg, to say nothing of how I cum now).

Suddenly the Goals List replaces the word PAUSE, and there's a new item after the two celebrations:

Top, Discover your changes internally by being examined through physical contact, Separate cock can be reattached

I stare at this, feeling...helplessness feels kind of silky, I decide, like wearing a negligee--if that's what it feels like? I need to try some lingerie further than this stuff.

Nothing happens, and the...the...I keep wanting to call it childishness settles deeper, but that word is wrong. The sense of being taken care of. Of being made to need taking care of.

Dependence. The game is making me need it by taking away my ability to carry out anything a long-range as finding a doctor(?) with the skills to do this, then responding when I feel that I need something by deciding if I actually do.

Then, experiment: I need to get free of this!

Words replace my own thought stream: I understand why it doesn't let me change or set my own goals, and I know things that aren't Top priority goals or part of its plans may never be possible, and it's very good to experiment, so I'm going to get a Top Priority goal for something intended to reward me now, but first the game is telling me: free of this definitely isn't going to be possible. I can be sure it won't give me that, ever. Would I like it to keep me from asking to be let go?

No, I mentally gulp, and collect myself, remember my question:

So...you'll always be with me whether I imagine you or not because it's our...consciousness? Souls? That're entwined with each other, and you exist physically only if I think of you that way? Do you mind it when I don't? Not having a body is weird, and mine's not even gone it's just too slow for me to feel right now...

That's almost exactly right Goddess! Souls exist ontologically like my gift does and my soul is hiding inside yours ontologically so I always come with you and you can imagine me physically but if you don't or don't imagine me at all I don't go away I just don't get to nuzzle and cuddle you. I like having you imagine me and it feels good to have you hold me and even imagining using me gives me the attention that makes me exist so I like you to do it whenever you can but if you can't I still stay inside of your soul and hope that you'll use me again soon. I really like having a body to please you with but I don't mind just being consciousness except I miss playing physically if you don't give me a body for long enough.

This is so cute! What happens if I stop imagining you're with me physically by accident like just now when your image surprised me? Would you just vanish?

No Mommy I'd still be physically in whatever situation you left me that's how I'm physical.

Does it hurt or even feel like anything? Would it mess with you if I just like, kept popping you between my fantasies or nothing and the real world?

No Goddess it would feel happy if that would make me convenient for you.

Hmm...eh, your body's so great I'll probably just keep you physical unless this is happening.

Knowledge arrives: I can use my past with computers to make worlds for her to play in, where she can be part of them, and I her Goddess in fact, creating the reality she lives in. I can be there in turn through virtual reality...and I can be her Goddess here and now in the Four Dreams the same way. The game is teaching me how. This is part of the Major Plan System's plans for me. It wants me to take on the fairy princess identity, mainly because it helps this by giving me a way to contextualize the powers its giving me, but partly also because I actually am a lost fairy princess as I will shortly learn about.

It's time to sex up my sex crop now, so that's where my mind is going.

As I start to imagine something with a remotely coherent description, I imagine it in front of me, rotating and bouncing like a powerup in Quake, so I can see how it's interpreting my intentions. "Teravolt blue" is kind of a manly name for me, but the literally-luminous shade it makes the handle and tip in response is perfect, so I keep it.

Without input from my eyes to distract me, the images is vivid, almost real.

The handle is a narrow blue flower kind of like a tulip with soft petals around the harder core, and make the shaft transparent, growing out of the flower's petals but filled with pale-golden sparkles that match my new hair. Nice and bright, yes.

Mommy that's beautiful! What if you make it have streamers out the back of the handle?

Cocksleeve, that is a brilliant idea! Here, reward.

And I kiss her a deep passionate kiss with tongue forced down her throat, then imagine flipping her so she 'faces' the crop I'm imaging.

MMMF KISS YUM!

Streamers, like...they should gleam of course, but how to implement? Physical or fairy-dust? Physical, but not the awful crinkly static-clingy plastic of bike streamers. Something sensual and expensive, like silk.

Knowledge appears: the game can make any substance I can think of. Diamond purse is already literally diamond. Consider making purse match crop by making leather with flowery accents using cerulean gemstones to match the heartstone handle I'm imagining here. Streamers can use physical constant changing to be made of very thin heartstone without static electricity.

Heartstone is top thing to learn about next. Goal added.

Top, Learn the properties and composition of heartstone, Stave of Harmony

Physical constant changing!? Even if that's possible, without static electricity, chemistry won't work and it'll literally atomize, won't it?

The game carries me back into designing--huh!? I feel pressure, pumping throbbingly, it feels like something expanding, a mechanically regular rhythm racheting bigger and bigger, solid and hard, like a ribbed cock, driving its way into my heart--the spiritual reality, not the organ, and it's somehow not going near Lyra even though the awareness gives me a sense of how she's in there too in the way we've been talking about--suddenly I understand: the game is opening me, like it opened my ass before, but this time it's, gulp, my heart.

The game is choosing my thoughts for me, so I only focus on what this is telling me about the nature of my heart that it can be penetrated like this. Being able to open my heart this way is how Lyra got in, but can also be how things can get out of me (other than Lyra, who is trapped).

Heartstone is a product of that.

Lyra got in because I opened my heart to her dreamskin and her seed implanted inside me.

Now it's opening my heart with something just like a spiritual dildo to show me I'm female inside--that's what made me change into female appearance with just the nectar from Lyra sucking my cock in the aftercare nook. I was already a girl on the inside, and always have been. The dildo inside my heart now fits snugly but also won't take my freedom of motion--that means it won't make me into someone like Lyra, however much I like having it inside of me. Being female doesn't make me submissive, which is why the game had to enslave me. Being enslaved is the only way to make someone submissive, and the game has already enslaved me, so finding out I'm female isn't something to be scared of. It needs to show me how it puts things inside of me so it won't freak me out, and so I can enjoy being penetrated. Had it opened this cunt without teaching me enslavement is what makes me able to enjoy being enslaved, I would have believed that it meant my submissiveness came from it making me female, not enslaving me. That would keep me from being female toward Lyra in the way that she needs from me. I don't have to have a cunt in my body and use her to fill it, but she does live like a child inside of me. Luxhi'khora always implant in people with hearts that have cunts in them, and it needs me to see that it's like I'm pregnant with her. She won't become physically a fetus inside of me, but as far as my heart's concerned she already is one. The name Luxhi'khora is a contraction of the Infernal meaning Lightly Borne Sex-companion, because she only makes me pregnant emotionally, and so is easy to carry. The fierceness I feel toward her is a mother's love.

I still want to be a good cocksleeve Goddess it just means you're my Mommy and you take care of me.

The penetration is withdrawn, leaving me wishing I'd tried to enjoy it more instead of being afraid. It...did feel good...

And there really was a way in which it was like filling a pregnant girl's cunt doesn't get into the same space as her child.

Fuck.

I love you, little one. Is where you are when I'm not imagining you someplace else, and I guess even when I am just...my heart's womb?

Why does it even have one--no, obviously, mind, body, heart, mind and body reflect each other whichever way you face the c--spin--c--spin--whichever one caused the other one. If I've really always been a girl my heart will be girl-shaped, even if--one thing a time.

Yes Mommy that's where I am and it's warm and safe and please keep me here always.

You're not going anywhere, but...how is it taking you out of me would kill us both--not that I want it to be otherwise. Or would we both just die of being sad?

Mommy I didn't have any choice it's part of how I implant I kind of wind myself up in you so taking me out would tear you apart.

That's cranked nice and tight, right?

Yes it's as tight as it can be Mommy.

Good. Is this why I can't seem to imagine ever wanting kids?

You can still love your kids if you have them, but I keep your heart thinking you're already pregnant, so that makes it not ask for what it already has, Mommy.

The dildo enters my heart again, and this time I determine to enjoy it. It fills me tightly, solid and thick, and it does feel in an odd way like it's as "thick around" as my heart is.

Goddess doesn't having a cock fill you feel awesome? What if you Try squeezing it?

Through this I've been as much terrified as excited (and enthralled to learn of Lyra's nature, except that it honestly feels just like putting words to what I've known all along), this wakes up the weirdly contrary, raunchy determination that keeps sending me spiraling into debauchery.

The instant I with all my might clench the 'muscle' that takes no effort at all to find and try to drive myself onto the cock further, hauling it inside of me, and beams of teravolt-blue light erupt from below my field of view like they're shining...oh, out of my heart.

I clench more, because she's right, is feels amazing, a rightness of being full, joy that this dildo is actually thick enough and stiff enough to stand up to my hunger. Give me what you've got, come on.

Instincts kick in and I actually start to fuck, creating a shifting light show. If the goal was to show me I actually am, deeply, female, it's working.

Hang on, if I have a cunt and a womb I must have a clit, right? Is there anything to grind it against? I push deeper, but the dildo seems to be an infinite--or 'long enough'--shaft. Humph.

As I squirm on this shaft, hungry to properly fuck it, knowledge arrives: Heartstone is differently created depending on whether your heart is male or female, but it comes either way from the 'sexual fluids' your heart makes. Since I'm female, I create it by making my heart's cunt wet--if I was male, I'd ejaculate instead. The dildo is making me do that, and I can see the energy my fucking it squeezes out of me and shines undirectedly as beams of light in the darkness of my imagination. The game isn't making me fuck, and that's essential, because the energy I'm seeing is the energy I'm choosing to use to fuck the dildo inside my heart, my willpower, literally here--I'm not being passive, I'm squeezing and fucking actively, which is why I can see this light-show. I'm seeing huge amounts of energy, the way lasers can't be seen unless they're incredibly bright, because I'm fucking the dildo as hard as I can. I can direct the energy by thinking how I'd like to use it. Heartstone is made of the energy, turned into the substance the sexcrop's tip can be made from if I'd like it to be made of my own sexual energy. I can use the energy I'm making now to create several big dildos at once, so I need to either make something using the rest of it at the same time, or be less intense while I'm making a sex-crop-tip.

The response that blurts out is to my shock all my own and comes without even the tiniest nudge from the game:

No! I need to get fucked!