 
Mad Restaurant and

Inter-reality Stories

by Gustavo Zaragosa

smashwords edition

Copy write

gustavo zaragosa 2012

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table of contents

Ch 1 How I Met Sheila and Became Her Sex-Slave

Ch 2 Finding Freedom Through Slavery

Ch 3 Mom's Home Cooking in a Booth

Ch 4 If Your Food Moves, Eat It!

Ch 5 The Dance of the Dildo Impaling

Ch 6 Bob

Ch 7 A Brief Essay on Fourth Dimensional Jump Mechanics

Ch 8 The Overpass

Ch 9 A Prophet named Greg

Ch 10 The Trap in the Menu

Ch 11 From the Frying Pan into Satan's Butt

Ch 12 The Land of Big Dicked Men

Ch 13 A most Brilliant plan

Ch 14 Take a Bath, Kiss My Ass

Ch 15 Nazi Bitch

Ch 16 On Carnival Time

Ch 17 Splooge

Ch 18 Party Hearty

Ch 19 Midgard

### Authors Preface and testimony

In the following pages, you will read about some of the strangest shit you have ever encountered. They will only be strange to those that have never felt the thrill and terror of traveling the multiverse. Once a person crosses into the fourth dimension and travels the byways of inter-dimensional space, she or he will know that these tales aren't really all that.

I can only say that all herein are my adventures and this memoir is a true and accurate account of my enslavement and escape trough the multiverse.

If any of you doubt that any of this really happened, I challenge anyone to disprove me. You will have needed to travel the byways of fourth dimensional space in order to even begin your argument, so unless you have, save it for a less inter-dimensionaly savy creature.

Chapter 1

How I met Sheila and became her sex slave

The man I was before my inter-dimensional jumping days is barely a memory to me, so my story starts here, just before I left this world forever.

My job was common enough, I was an insurance salesman. The professional euphemism of the day was estate planner or financial councilor. I'll give the industry credit for trying to give us a better image but to everybody we were salesmen and nobody liked us.

I worked in a small office on a traffic island between two highways. It was quite a large area with several small stands of trees. They had planted tall hedges all around the island to block out the noise from the highways.

Our office sat in a small strip mall. It was a nice mix of shops. There was Pizza Joe's, Elijah's Hardware Store, The Sunny gift shop, The 'Shoot your wad' Gun Shop and a Discount Liquor Store that had no other name except, 'Discount'.

We hung out at the office all day waiting for people to come in to be insured. We insured everybody and everything. Our company was old and proudly displayed that fact on its logo. The logo was an eagle with wings spread and holding a ribbon in its beak that simply read 'since 1756'. That's all it said, no pretentious sayings in Latin that no one understood anyway. I liked that, it was ballsy you know, like, hey we've been around since 1756, we are older than Uncle Sam, hey eat shit...

A normal day was divided between selling an occasional insurance policy and keeping from being too bored. The fight against boredom was my greatest challenge. My best friend Tom and I came up with some great gags together. He was my partner in crime and my role model; the older brother I never had.

There were four of us in the office, Tom and me, Bety and Terry our office manager. We three guys were pretty ordinary, except for something about Tom that you'll find out later. We looked OK if we cleaned up some, you know just normal guys, but Bety, well she was something else. She was really exceptional, at least when she first came to work for us. ...and no, it is not misspelled, as Bety let me know when I called her Betty, "It is Be-ty," she spat out! "Accent on the last syllable, it's French."

I remember that day well. She walked in, wearing a channel mini-skirt suit. She wore gold chains that were just the right touch. Her perfume made my skin tingle. She had a gorgeous petit body that screamed 21 when she was actually 35. She had great tits, like two grapefruits floating in olive oil and her ass looked like an over inflated mini-basketball.

Well of course, we all wanted to fuck her immediately. Tom and I were stumbling all over each other trying to get to the door first to greet her. Terry, the office manager, was pouring coffee as she walked in. He turned casually to see who was coming into the office, when the sight of Bety made his eyes bulge out and caused his mouth to hang open. The idiot just stood there and kept pouring, until the hot coffee spilled over and splashed on his yellow polyester pants, all over the crotch. He threw the cup and yelped like a kicked dog. He grabbed his burning dick and ran around the office doing a high step dance.

He shouldn't have done that, because he pressed the hot liquid soaked pants up against his dick and burned it even more. He yelped again even louder. What he should have done instead was to pull the pants crotch material away from his privates until it cooled down. I learned this the hard way. With Terry jumping around holding his burning dick, even Tom and I had to turn away from Bety's ass and tits to watch 'the dance of sterility', a dance that only men do.

Suddenly, Bety rushed over to Terry and produced a small handkerchief from some hidden pocket like a magician, and 30 seconds after entering our office, she was furiously rubbing Terry's dick! I believe she was trying to help him by rubbing the coffee stain, but stain was not the problem at that moment, pain was the problem! I really didn't know what she was trying to do, I understood it as some kind of woman thing.

Bety was rubbing furiously at the stain. Terry was standing there groaning as Bety briskly gave the pants one last swipe then she folded the cloth and pressed it firmly into the stain to absorb the coffee. This made Terry bark aloud like a dog, then his body convulsed once and before our unbelieving eyes, he shot a load in his pants. Bety recoiled in horror.

Everything happened so fast that we four were left standing, looking from one to another. Tom and I were looking from Bety down to her tits, to her small delicate hand holding the soggy hanky, then to Terry's crotch that was now coffee stained and come stained. Terry was looking at his own crotch and Bety was holding her hanky by the corner, looking for a wastebasket.

It was as if time had stopped. We kept looking from one thing to another. Then Tom broke the silence, and said, "Hi I'm Tom", breaking into his trademark shit-eating grin.

He stepped across me and reached to shake Bety's hand but instead of coming up with the delicate little appendage that Bety owned, his hand came up with a damp handkerchief.

At least after Bety got there, we weren't bored for a while because we always had her to look at and fantasize about, but that's all we could do because she never flirted, she was all business.

Her husband was a big dumb truck driver that was on the road most of the time. He came home every few weeks for a day or so, Bety would feed him, suck his dick for hours then put him to bed. She told us that she only sucked his dick nowadays because he was too tired to fuck. I guess it was from all that driving. She would do this for two or three days then he would get back on the road and deliver onions or car parts or something.

She only spoke about him in glaring praises and compliments. She claimed that sucking his dick was more satisfying to her than multiple orgasms because he was so much of a man. She said that if he just jerked off on her face that she would feel fulfilled because of the deep love they shared.

Sure, we were getting turned on by all of her self-depreciating talk, but this chick was insane. She was in the depths of acute denial, not to mention psychosis. She worked too obsessively to be getting proper servicing, that was obvious.

I never realized any of this until Tom pointed it out to me. Tom had Bety all figured out. He was waiting for the right time to slide right in and 'fill the emptiness in her life', as he put it.

He used all of his best lines on her. Classic lines like, 'I can make you feel like a real woman' and 'I've got a big surprise for you'.

In the last case, Tom wasn't just whistling Dixie, because Tom had a ten-inch dick! His dick was quite famous in our circle of friends and a legend down at our local bar. Everyone looked up to Tom because God had chosen him; God had put his mark of approval on him. We had all agreed that God couldn't have given a clearer sign of showing his favor.

One day Tom had Bety pinned up against the copying machine and was coming on to her again. It had become a daily thing for Tom to proposition Bety and for her to turn him down.

"Look Bety," he was saying, "your husband is gone so much, and this will actually help your marriage."

I was watching the master at work from behind my desk where I was pretending to fill out a form. Boy could that Tom operate, he was so cool and suave. Bety looked strait up at him with a sexy look that gave me a boner even though the look wasn't meant for me and cooed, "Do you want me to touch it?"

Tom's eyes widened. He couldn't believe his luck, after months of rejection and all those boring speeches about her fidelity, she was finally going to give in. He just couldn't believe it.

"Yeah baby", he growled in mock savagery.

Then quite suddenly, he let out a high shrill scream like a young girl. Tom and Bety started to twirl around as if they were dancing. They seemed to be connected to each other. I didn't know what the hell was going on.

They twirled like an expert dance team to the center of the office where there was no furniture. It was then that I noticed how they were connected. Bety had Tom by his big dick in both of her delicate little hands. Those little hands, although delicate, were obviously very strong. She was squeezing so hard that Tom's knob looked like a fat purple mushroom.

I felt a twinge of pain in fellow-dick-owner sympathy. Tom was making squeaky gurgling noises while they were spinning and he was desperately trying to pry off Bety's delicate little fingers but he could not. She seemed to be very, very strong.

"Boy," I thought, "that chick must work out."

I momentarily left the office in my imagination and saw a glorious picture of Bety in leotards doing some kind of bend over exercise in the gym. I would have happily stayed daydreaming, but Tom's shrieks of pain demanded that I pay attention to him, he was my best friend after all.

Suddenly Bety let go of his tortured member and Tom went flying across the office. I got a look at Tom's face as he flew by my desk and it was quite a funny expression. OK, Tom was in pain but me not getting a laugh out of it wasn't going to help him anyway.

Tom continued by and flew across his own desk, cleaning it off completely with his body. Unfortunately, his meaty salami failed to clear his most prized possession, his 'world's #1 pussy chaser' trophy and it tore a long gash along his Johnson as he went over it.

Blood was everywhere. Bety felt very bad and when the paramedics were taking Tom away, she held his hand in sympathy and contrition. In a loving and caring gesture, she even gently touched his crotch area that was now a sticky mass of masking tape, blood and napkins from Pizza Joe's next door. It was a mess but I did the best I could, who keeps a first aid kit any more.

At the hospital, doctors preformed emergency surgery on Tom's torpedo. Word of Tom's super wanger spread through the hospital and the observation room above the operating table filled with nurses.

All the nurses were breathing heavily. "It looks like a beer can," one nurse said. "A 16-ouncer," another finished. A few of the bolder ones were shamelessly touching themselves, but for some of the younger nurses, Tom's colossal cock was just too much. It was too big and too scary and they simply passed out. A few even required several months of counseling afterwards.

The doctors did save Tom's dick and this story should have ended happily ever after, but it did not. When I visited Tom after the operation, he had a weird request of me. He asked me to bring along several specific kinds of measuring devices.

When I came into the room, Tom seemed to be rather despondent. He did have that cock trauma after all, but alls well that ends well, I thought.

"Thanks for coming," Tom started, quite solemnly. I thought his tone was strange, we were buddies and had never stood on ceremony before.

"I need a big favor from you," he said, his voice cracking on the word 'big'. "I need you to measure my dick."

Now before you get any weird ideas about what was going on, let me explain. Tom was convinced that his dick was now shorter than before surgery. He needed to know that he had all of his cowfucker, because his whole identity and confidence was tied up with his big dick.

I reluctantly measured his wanger, using several very accurate instruments. I tried to get it over with quickly but he insisted that I double and triple check. I felt cheap and homo-like handling his sea serpent, but for a friend you have to make these kinds of sacrifices.

We found out that indeed his 10-inch gorilla killer was only a 9 and three-quarter inch gorilla killer. Any other man would have cut his dick in half to have a pussy stretcher that was 9 ¾ inches long, not to mention that it had all of its original width, but to Tom this meant the end of his pussy chasing, super-stud days. He felt so bad about loosing that quarter inch, (my 'emasculation', he called it) that he plunged into a deep depression. He was pretty much recovered after two weeks and the doctors let him go home. He left the hospital and just vanished.

I found him after a month of searching. He was living in a derelict hotel downtown. He had not bathed, shaved, or wiped his ass for the whole time. I took him back to his old apartment and helped him clean up. In a few days he came back to work but he was a completely different person. He went strait to his desk and started to work. He just worked and worked. I had seen it before, a fun loving irresponsible insurance agent suddenly starts to work hard. Tom even started to keep accurate client records and sent out thank-you cards.

The final straw came when he mailed in a suggestion to redecorate the office, because he wanted to make it a cheerier place to work. The idiots at the home office allocated five thousand dollars for the project. They were going to make our office the show office, an example of loyal employee involvement. Tom, Terry and Bety were ecstatic over the news, I thought it was all a load of crap.

With Tom gone to the other side, I had no one to buddy around with. What a waste Tom was. He had been my hero and my role model. I knew that he wasn't a great role model, but I had to do with what I could get.

When Tom was his old fun loving self, we used to have a lot of fun with Terry. Well not really with him, more like at him. Tom and I played numerous practical jokes on him ranging from grossly puerile to inhumanly cruel.

To us it was only Terry, so who cared. We didn't consider Terry to be a real human being. He was like an extension of the company. He didn't seem to have opinions or ideas, he lived only for the company.

His best talent was a long brown tongue that he shoved up the ass of anyone he deemed higher than he was on some socio-economic scale that only he knew about. I couldn't blame Terry though, he had to do all that humiliating stuff, it was part of his job description.

Then to top off Tom's degeneration into businessman/asshole, Bety came in one day dressed... really differently. It looked like she was wearing a dress she had made out of an old sheet that conservative Mormons had designed, something that my crazy granny might have made for herself during an especially bad manic spell. She said that her sexiness had hurt something precious to someone. She was talking about Tom's dick of course. She quit wearing jewelry and makeup too.

Now I didn't even have Bety to fantasize about anymore because every time I tried to imagine fucking Bety, she always turned into my grandmother in the fantasy. I was developing extreme sexual confusion because of the mix-up of images between Bety, doing it doggy style and my little grandma. I gave up and just quit fantasizing. When the fates are cruel, they leave you nothing.

Then Bety started to smell bad. I don't know why she started to smell or why I even mentioned it. I was at the lowest point in my life and I would have surely killed myself except for one thing that saved me, the fact that I am a huge coward.

One day I stood by the door of the office and took in the scene. Tom and Terry were happily discussing paint colors and furniture styles. Tom seemed so happy that I couldn't deny him his moment.

"Good luck Tom," I thought, "You were the best, once."

I looked at Bety, that poor confused girl. She was busily filling out forms and leaving useless memos to herself. I almost went up to her to say something in sympathy but the moment passed and I remembered how bad she smelled. It was all too much; I just couldn't take any more.

In order to escape my purgatory, I used to go behind the strip center where there were two huge dumpsters. They sat among empty crates and broken pallets, all overgrown with weeds. I would lie hidden between stacks of plastic soda cases on a busted up lawn chair. I kept a stash of weed there and a small Styrofoam ice chest full of cold beer. It was my final sanctuary from the world and the world was becoming more and more foreign to me every day. I was becoming an alien, a stranger in my own land.

I felt better, sitting alone with my thoughts. Sometimes I would watch clouds float by, or listen to the many birds that had colonized the two mini-forests on the traffic island. The whole summer passed like that and nothing much changed except the décor of our office.

One day, I was feeling on top of the world because I had had a terrific week. I had made over four thousand dollars. If this seems like a lot of money for a high school dropout like me to make, well that's sales for you. Two well-publicized industrial accidents had brought dozens of paranoid people into our office. We sold them all sorts of shit. Crap they would never need, but they believed they did and we needed the commissions.

I paid my rent, 3 months of car payments and 50 dollars towards my overloaded Visa card. I felt pretty caught up on bills so I spent 1700 dollars on some good weed and I was broke again.

I was laying there on my broken lawn chair feeling good, half way down my joint, enjoying the great weather we were having when suddenly I sat up and beheld a most marvelous sight.

A 10-foot oval of multi-colored lights had appeared beyond the two dumpsters. A black slit appeared in the middle of the lights. It opened and out jumped this woman. She rolled once and recovered gracefully onto her feet. Then the lights vanished behind her.

She stayed crouched, slowly scanning the area around her. I was so stunned that I couldn't even think. I was also too stoned to react quickly, but to what avail. What should a person do when someone opens the inter-dimensional door between universes and jumps into our world? I simply had no president to go by. I just sat there open mouthed and stupid looking.

She stood up and saw me. Something in me suddenly became afraid, very afraid and I had the urge to run like an ass shot deer, but I couldn't. I looked at her, into her deep purple eyes and I recognized something in them, something cold and evil. Something like the look a lioness would have just before she sunk her teeth into your thigh. She was an athletic Amazon warrior. Athena before she went off to hunt wild giant boars with her bare hands. I got the chills, I felt warm inside, my stomach fluttered in a pleasant way then I felt nauseous. I knew what this feeling was and even though I had never felt it before, I knew this was exactly what it must be like. I felt desire and fear, I hungered for something indefinable, this was the real thing, this was love.

She sprang towards me and in two incredible bounds; she covered the 30 feet between us. All the hair on my entire body stood up in shock and I knew that I was in the presence of an alien power beyond my understanding.

She glared down at me with her hands on her hips. She was so intense that I was paralyzed and didn't know what to do. She nodded toward the joint and I handed it to her.

She took it and I watched in wonder as she huffed the joint down to a memory in a few seconds. She exhaled the last hit long and deep, smiled at me in a scary way and said, "Good shit in this world." Then her smile broadened and she said, "and after I get stoned, I like to fuck, and your dick is it lover!"

She casually pushed me back down onto the busted lawn chair. I could do nothing because although I didn't know it at the time, I was already under Sheila's magic spell. She swiped her hand across the crotch of my pants and shredded it into tissue paper. Her nails were as hard as titanium. She did this with so much skill that I didn't get a scratch on me but my clothes were completely torn open and my medium sized wanger jumped to semi-attention.

She pulled out a small bottle from somewhere and poured a green mentholated liquid on my dick. It felt warm and tickled. I felt a cool warmth rise up from my crotch and the feeling filled me up. Sheila had just introduced me to her inter-dimensional demon chemistry. I thought the warm feeling was love. It felt like it but what I was feeling wasn't really love although that's how I had interpreted it. If Sheila had been a human woman, I might have called what I was feeling love, but as I found out, Sheila was only superficially a human being. The word love had no place or meaning in Sheila's universe. I don't know what dark corner of creation she came from but at that moment I really didn't give a shit. I thought it was true love, and at that moment there really was no difference.

The liquid she had poured on my dick, started to do its magic and fuck me with a donkey dick, if my dick didn't start to grow. I felt just like how one of those long balloons must feel when being forcefully inflated before being twisted into an animal shape. Then she squatted down on my now giant salami and cooed like a virginal girl, "Oohhhh that's so big".

Then in one smooth motion, she plunged my entire pile driver into herself. I gasped at the intense rush. If I had had any doubts about my feelings for Sheila up to that point, my first entry into the finest vagina I had ever imagined, cleared up any ambiguity I might have had. I was shit, stoned, dance around the corner in love.

She fucked me so hard and for so long that by the time she got off me, I had come twelve times. I am not boasting and I can't take any credit either, it had been Sheila's perverted inter-dimensional chemistry that had done it.

I lay there for a moment to catch my breath. I finally picked up my head and looked around. I was still a bit stoned and I was dizzy and hungry. It suddenly occurred to me that it was getting dark. We had been fucking since mid-morning! I was trying to get my bearings when I again beheld that beautiful disc of lights.

Sheila was dressed and ready to leave. She gave me a wicked Jane Seymour smile over her shoulder then turned to the sparkling lights. She put her hands together like she was praying, then spread her arms open as if to hug the millions of sparkly lights. She said something in a language I did not understand and then laughed.

All the lights danced around more excitedly and the black slit once again appeared in the middle of the lights. Sheila turned to me and said, "Bye lover see you soon or maybe never."

She was a sight with her face all alight with the reflections of the millions of sparkling colored lights. She turned back towards the lights and in a magnificent somersault, vanished into the darkness beyond the dark opening. Then the slit closed and vanished with the lights. A second later, I had only the afterimage on my optic nerves to tell me that what had just transpired had not been a stoned, sexually perverted sci-fi fantasy. I did wonder because I had had them before.

I took note of myself and I was surprised to find that I really didn't know how I felt. I had never assessed myself before. I laughed aloud at that because I didn't even know if how I was feeling was normal for me or not. I had never felt different enough to have a basis for comparison. I laughed louder and the sound of my own laughter scared me. I shut up and struggled to get off the lawn chair.

It was then that I felt the deep emptiness in my crotch. It felt so empty that it felt like a weight had been placed on it. Both of my balls had had all of the sperm drained from them. My prostate felt like a dried peach. I wondered for an instant how it was possible that I knew all this but that became irrelevant when I noticed that my dick was a swollen, sticky mess of flesh. Every movement hurt but after several moments of painful struggling, I finally managed to get up. I let out a huge fart as I stood because of the strain. It was such a magnificent fart that momentarily I felt a twinge of pride in spite of my intense pain. At the same time, I also felt a bit sad because my buddy Tom couldn't have been there to share the fart with me. We would have both gotten a good laugh out of it. I stood up.

I was shaky but I managed to stand. I kind of touched myself up. I guess to see if I was all there, I don't really know. I found that I was in one piece except for a small trickle of blood behind my left knee. I figured I scratched it on the lawn chair, otherwise I seemed to be whole.

I managed to stagger, stumble and drag my sorry carcass back around the building to our office. The other stores were closed already but our office still had the lights on. I stumbled through the double glass doors and ran into the pamphlet stand that advertised our company's greatness and our latest products. Then I hit the new couch Tom had bought for the comfort of our customers and tumbled over it like a drunken gymnast. I landed on the floor, hard, right on my swollen member. I bounced off the ground because my crotch was so swollen and cushion like. I came to rest on my back with so much dick pain that only a squeaky sound came out of my mouth involuntarily.

As I fell, I noticed that Bety was still at her desk. She looked up in horror and came rushing over to me. She knelt down and took my head in her lap.

She cried, "What happened! You look terrible."

Give this woman the understatement of the year award. I started to speak. "I was ..." and looked down at my pants to explain what had happened to me and to my well abused man package but my pants weren't torn at all. They were whole and undamaged. There was no trace of the violent slashing of Sheila's titanium nails.

I thought about it for a moment and began to doubt my experience. Maybe the weed I had smoked had been better than I thought, like some kind of super weed. Sure, that would have explained everything. It had all been a big fucking drug induced hallucination. I chuckled aloud despite the pain. None of it had been real. I felt relieved. Then I thought that you can't get delusional on weed, it just doesn't do that. Not like sniffing gas or glue or drinking alcohol.

Then suddenly my reasoning petered out, literally. I felt the deep emptiness of my testicles and the swollen hamburger condition of my little best friend. Though hard to believe, it had all happened. I indeed did have a huge dick, created by some magic liquid and was fucked dry by an inter-reality jumping sex-crazed stoner bitch for over eight hours.

What I didn't know at the time was that my pants were whole and undamaged because Sheila had planted a reality adjuster on me, just under the skin behind my left knee. It was what I had thought was a scratch. It felt like a piece of couscous if you felt around for it. I never noticed it until Sheila herself pointed it out to me. Reality adjusters did just that, they adjusted reality so that everything seemed normal. Inter-reality jumpers preferred not to attract attention to their doings if they could avoid it.

"Just lay here quietly," Betty said and called 911.

At the hospital, the observation room above the operating table was once again packed to capacity with nurses. They all wanted to see the dick that 'fucked until it broke', and drained both testicles completely. What's with nurses anyway? Somebody needs to give those poor girls some serious boneage.

The doctors recommended rest, an ice pack and no sex for 6 months. Talk about adding insult to injury, I actually paid for that advice. I eventually recovered from that first traumatic meeting and that is how I met Sheila.

Six months went by and my weenie was feeling like his old self again. I went out with a few girls, mostly professional dancers and models, but I really didn't enjoy it that much. The sex we had was so timid and slow.

One of my girlfriends had learned a special technique that was guaranteed to send me to ecstasy heaven, or so she had said. She had a steel ring bolted to the ceiling above our bed on which she would dangle by her teeth, biting on to a thick piece of leather. Then, with me lying on my back and my wanger up, she would lower herself onto my boner. She would then kind of tippy-toe around me with my cock inside her. When she had the leather twisted a bunch of times she would pick her feet up beside her ears and slowly begin to spin faster and faster. Then she would slow down and spin the other way.

OK, she went to a lot of trouble for me and it probably took her months to learn that, but shit man, it was just a variation of the Thai basket fuck wasn't it. I didn't want to seem ungrateful, but at least she could have been original.

It wasn't really her fault. The real truth was that after Sheila there was no one else that came close. Sheila was the most incredible example of a woman I had ever met, beyond my most insane and hopeful fantasies. Sheila had ruined me for life because after her everybody paled and seemed old and tired.

So I went through my days in a sort of haze, and kept getting more and more bored and despondent. I kept thinking about her, I became obsessed with her. I craved her like a junkie feels the hole in his very soul when he doesn't have his drug. I wanted desperately to find her, but where do you start your search for an inter-dimensional doorway anyway?

I consoled myself by saying, "Self, girls like Sheila never hang around. They find you, fuck you, fuck you up and then forget you, welcome to the 4-F club. Feel privileged that you even got a small piece of that fine cosmic pussy. She's the type that fucks you for fun then has more important adventures to get on to. Who the fuck are you anyway but some medium dicked insurance agent. Why would anyone like Sheila hang around with you? I bet she can get all the big dick she wants, whenever she wants."

One thing that had stuck in my mind was the dick-growing thing. I have tried to duplicate it but not with creams or cock pumps, that would have been stupid, I tried to do it with meditation. I studied at a Buddhist center in Los Angeles just for this purpose. When they asked me at the temple what I hoped to accomplish while I was there, I answered that I hoped to grow as a man. That was the most truthful thing that had passed these lips in a long time. After a while it looked like meditation wasn't going to do it, so I left.

Now I was at the lowest point of my already crappy life. I felt like a loose piece of shit on the sidewalk. The best thing for me would have been to dry up and disappear. My mental state kept deteriorating until one day I found myself sitting behind my desk, ass deep in paperwork.

I suddenly noticed where I was and what I was doing. I tried to orient myself but I couldn't even remember driving to work that morning. I looked across the office and there was Bety nose deep in paperwork as usual. She was briskly writing letters and filling out forms. Her specialty was inter-office memos. IOM's Bety called them. On a good week, she would produce dozens of those useless things. She sent them to us by E-mail or sometimes I would find a pink post-it stuck to my in-box. It was cute when she was a foxy slut in mini skirts but after her Amish-Mormon fashion conversion, it was just fucking irritating.

I looked for Tom or Terry but they were both somewhere else. I turned around to look out of the window. Shit, it was dark. I felt prickly needles on my neck as panic started to rise in me. I quickly glanced at the clock on the wall and it was 9:15. Holy shit, I was working at 9:15 at night! What the fuck was going on. I broke out in a cold sweat. I knew what was happening to me, I was going company man, just like Tom. My head started to fill with nightmare visions of future promotions and letters from the home office telling me what a great job I was doing. Then I saw thousands of butts all lined up, and one by one they pulled down their pants and bent over, waiting to be kissed.

I felt my mental health slipping away down the corporate toilet. Down, down, down it went to a place from which none returns. I fell back into my seat and I knew that I was at the very edge of a cliff. I just needed to take one small step and I would fall. As I lay slumped in my chair, I felt the uselessness of my life as a weight on my chest. My final wish was that I could be just a bit braver so I could end this trivial re-run called my life. I felt myself melting like the wicked witch of the west with the repulsion of what I had become.

Then something unexpected happened. Just before I hit the 'suicidal-psycho-butt-boy for the board of directors' level of mental health, I felt this bright spark deep inside of me. It firmed up the melting feeling like cold on Jell-O. It was a feeling so strong and so good that it started to push all of the bad feelings out of my body. I suddenly realized what was missing in my life and I knew exactly what I needed. The answer seemed so simple at that moment; I needed to fuck.

I leapt out of my chair and right out of my depression. The feeling that I needed to put my dick into something kept getting stronger and stronger, anything would do. I looked down at my crotch and beheld a giant cock and balls that were growing way beyond their normal size. I watched in amazement as they grew to take up most of the spare room in my pants.

I didn't know what was happening at the time but when Sheila planted the reality adjuster on me, she had planted a manic sex-slave seed as well. It had taken all this time for the manic sex-slave seed to mature in order to do its 'thing'.

After months of lying dormant, the seed reached a certain level then it turned me into a sex-crazed horny maniac, I mean even more than a normal young man. Sheila had picked me out to be her potential lover during our first encounter, it had taken all this time for the seed to mature and do its vile magic on me.

At that moment though, the important thing was that I was in possession of a monster baloney stretching my pants. I walked over to Bety's desk as if on autopilot. I felt that my dick was homing in on the closest pussy available and pulling me along.

Each step I took made my ICBMeat grow more. The manic sex-slave seed was pouring alien hormones into my blood and making my dick so big that I had to walk bowlegged. I walked right up to Bety's desk and stood there proudly with my pelvis stuck out. I would never have done something so bold before. I was never a stud type. Tom had always been the cocksman in our group. As I said, God had ordained him to be the pussy chaser and no one could argue with the inches God had given him.

Tom's problem was that he had no class. He was such an asshole that even with his trouser anaconda he didn't get laid that much. Most girls never got passed the asshole Tom, to get to the big dicked Tom. In the end the big dick just wasn't enough to keep a girl for long. His big dick only kept heavily co-dependent girls around. But even they couldn't take more than a month or two. If Tom had been just a little less of a prick, he would have scored like a basketball game. I don't know why I brought Tom up. I guess it was the big dick thing.

Anyway, there I was standing in front of Bety, with my thumbs hooked into my belt loops and my index fingers pointing to my crotch. Bety was dressed in Amish missionary clothes as usual

and working hard as usual.

With the self-assurance that being hung like a horse gives a man, I said, "Hi pussy". I would never have been so cocky before, but having a dick that was trying to exit your pants just so it could breath, well that gives a man a lot of confidence.

Bety looked up from her latest memo ready to lay down some righteous indignation on me for disturbing her. She started to speak but instantly stopped and instead of that cold look I should have gotten, her expression froze with her mouth still open in mid-word. She was starring at me, but it was not at my face she was staring at, it was my dick and balls. She was shamelessly ogling my crotch and then she started to make cooing sounds from deep within her throat. She started to mumble something. I strained to make out the words but I only heard, "humma, humma, humma".

Suddenly I heard a squeak from my belt. It couldn't hold back the mountain of man dong any longer and my tubular steak erupted out of my pants. The buckle exploded open and the button of my Levis popped off and went flying right into Bety's mouth while she was in the middle of a gasp. Then the zipper of my Levis tore along both seams, my pants unraveled and my dick and balls entered the office. My Levis zipper tearing is a testament to the massive cock I possessed and not a comment on the quality of Levi's jeans. I don't think I have otherwise ever torn the zipper on a pair of Levis.

My moose killer and twin bowling ball package flopped across Bety's desk and came to rest on her three-month planner like a beached killer whale with two hairy beach balls attached to its ass.

Everything seemed to be working out pretty well except for one small detail. Bety had gasped just as my pants had exploded, sending my pants button down Bety's throat and she was starting to gag. Well I was still glowing with pride at her reaction to my awesome equipment when I suddenly noticed that her attention was waning and I felt slighted.

"Hey baby," I said, trying to get her refocused on what was important. "So what do you think of Cecile the sea-sick sea serp...?"

I then noticed that her face was blue and her eyes were crossed. Her head did a quick weave to one side. I immediately realized what was going on. I scooped up my balls and dick and quickly rushed around the desk to get behind her.

I got into position to administer the Heimlich maneuver in order to dislodge the button stuck in her throat. I picked her up in one smooth manly motion. It took four tries to get the button out of her. I could have done it on the first try but I wanted a few rubs up against the perky ass she owned.

If you think this shallow and crude, remember that I was still the same dickhead that my father had raised. Most fathers raise dickheads because they had been raised by one and so on. I hope now, after having traveled the multiverse for these many years that I have come in closer contact with my gentler feminine side and have a healthier, more loving attitude towards women. Having said that, man I wanted to fuck that tight-assed slut in a bad way.

The manic sex-slave seed was making all of my senses much sharper as part of making me the sex-maniac lover that Sheila wanted, so I knew that Bety wouldn't have died before I got the button out. On the forth try, I presses my megaboner firmly between her butt cheeks, just for good leverage and with a firm thrust, I popped the button out. I felt like a jumbo sausage and she was a mini-hot dog bun.

She regained her breath in a moment, then turned to me and grabbed my cock. For an instant, I thought that she was going to dance the ballet of dick pain with me as she had done with Tom but instead she started to stroke me, that is, she stroked my big third leg. She put both petit hands around the knob that by now resembled a medium size cantaloupe. I let out a chuckle at just how little her small hands seemed in relation to my knob.

"You saved my life," she said and looked up at me with a look that was so sexy that, it made my dick grow another 6 inches.

"...And there's only one way for a woman to thank a man for saving her life," she cooed like a dove with her tail feathers spread.

"Shit," I thought, "this chick is really a hot potato and I am one fuck of a stud."

However, I was wrong on both counts. The manic sex-slave seed was doing everything. It was giving off a powerful hormone that made women want me and brought out their nastiest slutiest side. Evidently, all women have this side, but it is usually suppressed. The seed was unleashing 15 years of sexually accumulated frustration from Bety onto me or rather onto my lucky cock.

She pulled at her Mormon muumuu with one hand and savagely tore it off herself. She was growling and grunting in impatient desire, anxious to get out of her clothes. Then in another violent move, she tugged and pulled at her granny stretch double-paneled, triple-crotched cotton latex blend panties, until they were a heap of shredded rags around one ankle. She put one foot up on her desk and guided my tower of power into her missile silo.

She kept repeating, "Oh my God, God oh my, my god my, my, oh, my..." and various other permutations of those three words. In 30 seconds, the seed had reduced Bety from a well-educated, articulate woman into a drooling idiot nympho with a three-word vocabulary.

I thought that she couldn't possibly take my monster baloney inside her without it killing her, but fuck me if I wasn't crazy but my donkey dong slowly disappeared into her cock parking tube.

This seemed strange to me at the time because I suspected that the volume of my man meat was greater then Bety's entire abdomen. It was all very interesting for sure but I didn't have the time or the desire to ponder this violation of the law of displacement. I was hung like a mutant horse and we were hotter than Paris (France) was in mid-summer, so it was not science that was on my mind.

We fucked like rabid spastic bunnies. We bounced around the office fucking on everything that was fuck-on-able. We fucked and fucked until I felt like my head and testicles were going to explode.

After hours of fucking, we finally came to rest on Bety's three-month planner in a warm greasy pool of sexual syrup. I looked around in a daze and noticed that everything in the office was broken. There were holes in the walls and several windows were cracked. I looked down at Bety, her eyes were wide and manic. She was panting open mouthed, breathing hard and starring at nothing. Her hips were still humping my dick on autopilot. Suddenly Bety's face got hard and serious.

"Enough of this nonsense," she growled.

It was Bety's voice and at the same time, it was the voice of some demon from hell. I sensed such imminent danger that I had goose bumps, the chills, I farted and all the hair on my entire body stood up. The nightmare kept getting more surreal when before my unbelieving eyes, Bety's face started to change.

I tried desperately to push her away but I couldn't move an inch. She had my dick in some kind of woman pussy muscle lock and I was trapped. Then her entire body changed, it grew bigger and more massive and then boom, Sheila was there in Bety's place.

All kinds of questions raced through my mind at that instant, such as; had Bety been Sheila all along or did Sheila send Bety to some horrid dimension and simply take her place. Who was I actually fucking? Those questions remained unanswered for that moment because suddenly and without warning, Sheila started to fuck me terribly violently.

It hurt like crazy, as I was quite sensitive down there after fucking Bety all night, but I loved it. We fucked and fucked until we completely destroyed the office and set off the sprinklers and the fire alarm.

I knew that the authorities would be arriving soon and evidently so did Sheila. She called the lights. They were even more beautiful than before. She spoke to them in that language that she had used before. They sparkled and the slit appeared in the lights.

She squeezed a small tube of sweet liquid into my mouth then took me through that dark door and I left behind everything that was familiar to me, forever. We jumped to countless dimensions and she introduced me to thousands of strange and perverted sex practices. During that first journey through the portals of eternity, our second date, Sheila called it; I began to discover the depths of Sheila's depravity.

When she found me that fateful day and planted the manic sex-slave seed on me, there were only two possible outcomes. One was to become Sheila's sex-slave and the other was so horrible that I shutter to think about it. The seed would inflict on the helpless victim, a slow and terrible death.

The seed was designed to test the individual. To see if he had the attributes Sheila was looking for. I was one of many men that Sheila had planted seeds on. If the fool was not up to the demands of the seeds program, the seed would kill him.

She had planted the seed on many men because only a few could meet the demands of the seed's diabolical program. One guy Sheila told me about was almost what Sheila was looking for. Poor fucker, he almost made it. He was so close to Sheila's ideal sex-slave that the seed unleashed the ultimate test on him. The final test was too much for him and he failed miserably. He was one of many that paid the ultimate price.

The manic sex-slave seed released balloon worms into his testicles as a punishment. Balloon worms eat testicle and fart methane. Then they reproduce like crazy. His scrotum inflated to the size

of a basketball before it exploded balloon worms all over the place. He then contracted purple dick. This sounded like a humorous comment on a long night of fucking, but it was serious indeed.

It started as an itch at the opening of his urethra. It was just a mild irritation but this was only at the preliminary stage. The advanced stage was where the real pain began and that stage began twenty minutes after the itching.

The agony started with a burning at his dick opening that was reminiscent of acid being poured down his urethra. Then his urethra felt like it is being cleaned out with a steel bristled gun cleaning brush all the way down to his asshole.

Then his well tortured knob grew long spikes of calcium smegma until his poor little hot dog looked like a mace from the middle ages. These spikes fell of leaving oozing ulcers that leaked a stinking liquid that ate all of the skin off his dick until it looked like a skinned eel. Then his dick fell off and 15 seconds later, he died.

After Sheila told me that story, I never had a cross thought about her. It wasn't the story that scared me, although that was bad enough. What scared me was the way Sheila laughed through the whole telling, like it was a joke she had heard earlier that day.

Anyway that's how I became Sheila's sex-slave. I did eventually escape her nymphomaniac clutches or I wouldn't be writing this account. Sheila inadvertently gave me the means to my escape.

### Chapter 2

### Finding Freedom Through Slavery

Sheila took me to the sex-slave world for advanced training. This world was populated by the most sadistic women in the multiverse. They kept their men in bondage and tortured them for sport.

The women had turned their natural inclinations into a huge business. They had created the biggest, most notorious sex-slave training world in the multiverse. I had been there twice before for basic and intermediate training. This time it was for advanced and specialized training. It was the most difficult and painful training yet.

I was in the middle of an exceptionally difficult session, when I mentioned the manic sex- slave seed to the guy being tortured next to me. Sheila had already told me about the seed briefly, but I still knew very little about it. He whispered that if it wasn't removed properly, it would explode and take my thigh off. Sheila hadn't mentioned that part to me. I listened as best as I could, considering the circumstances we were under. I was chained to the wall and the other guy was chained right next to me. A stunning leggy blond dressed in a skintight black leather leotard was whipping our naked backs and butts. She would say 'Bad boys', or ''Obey your mistress', every now and then, in between lashes.

I called him Buddy because slaves had no names and I had to call him something. I asked him if he would tell me more about the seed and any other information he might have.

"I don't know," he whispered to me, "I could get into a lot of trouble."

"What...?" I started to ask, when a hard lash whipped across my ass. It hurt as if someone had cut me with a knife.

"We will talk lat...," he said as a savage lash came down across his shoulder. He stopped in mid-word in order to scream at the top of his voice.

The whipping was getting harder and harder. We both already had many welts and several wounds were starting to open across our backs and butts. The trainer was not happy with the amount of suffering we were enduring. She thought that we were too distracted.

She took two large tubular wampopos and shoved them up our asses in order to increase our suffering. Although we both yelled like banshees from the prickly spiny fur, I was grateful that they were still in hibernation. We had to stop talking then and concentrate on being tortured by our trainer. There was still two hours of 'class' left, it would be a long afternoon.

We must have been quite a sight chained to the wall with our backs and butts whipped raw and bleeding. It must have looked like something out of the dark ages. Then as if to complete this surreal tragedy, the tails of the two wampopos that were in our respective butts, suddenly popped out. I thought I was at the bottom of the scum-sucking barrel of degradation and worthlessness but things got just a little bit worse. I felt a stirring deep in my guts. Shit, my wampopo was coming out of hibernation!

When slaves were not being trained, they were allowed to rest, eat, or find some kind of recreation. Nobody was guarded because there was nowhere to go. There were no space ships kept on the planet and even if a slave stole one from someone arriving, where would he go. A slave was branded for life and had no resources or friends to help, plus most slaves had a seed implanted in them to help insure their loyalty.

My first priority was to remove the manic sex-slave seed without it blowing my leg off. I 'cultivated' Buddy for the information. I quickly formulated a plan as the tubular wampopos were being removed from our butts and we were being unchained. I decided to make my move on Buddy right after class. I needed more information to remove the seed, and it turned out to be remarkably easy to get. I didn't know it at the time but Buddy already had a crush on me.

I seduced him easily in the shower. I dropped the soap and kicked it into the corner, then I casually walked over to it and slowly bent over to pick it up. I looked over my shoulder and saw that Buddy was watching. I picked up the soap and lathered up both of my hands. Still bent over I passed Buddy a big handful of lather. He walked up behind me, took the lather, and lathered up my butt. It didn't take him long to use me to relieve himself. He grunted three times and he was finished. We dried ourselves off and went to get something to eat.

After my experiences on the Sex-slave world and with Sheila, I have had to revise many of my ideas about sexuality. I have discovered that sexuality could be very elastic and accommodating when it had to be, and it was an effective tool for getting things, as many women have always known. Over steak and eggs, Buddy told me whatever I wanted to know.

"It's no secret," he told me, "but where would you go? What would you do? And your mistress will find you and then you'd pay. What's the point?"

Well obviously he was afraid, and it was dangerous, but I still wanted to know.

"Before I jump the fuck out of here, I need to know how to get the seed out?" I whispered to him.

"It's very simple, you remove it with a nip pin," he said.

"You mean one of those stick pins that mistress's test food with?" I asked.

"That's it, but the nip-pin can do more than detect poisons in food. It also programs the sex slave seed."

Buddy took a hearty bite of steak and chomped on it. Thoughts were running rampant through my mind. Sheila had four nip pins stuck to the collar of her leather jacket. Each had a different color head.

He finished his mouthful and said as if he were reading my mind, "The red one deactivates it. Just stick it into the seed and the pin will lock on to it. You pull it out and presto, no more sex-slave."

He looked at me then. I wondered what that look meant, it seemed to be a question.

"And...?" I asked.

"Exactly," he said, "and then what. Where are you going to go? Are you going to go back to whatever shithole world you came from? What do you have waiting for you, a job? Are you going to buy a house maybe or put a few bucks away for your retirement?"

He was sarcastic but sympathetic, he was in the same boat that I was in and of course, he was right. I could never go back to my old life. However, this was all irrelevant as I was still a slave and my freedom was all that was important to me. I would deal with minor decisions like what career I might choose, after I was free. For a slave, freedom was everything he wanted, and I was determined to be free even if it meant that death was the price.

I thought about what to do for a long time. I thought about my life with Sheila. I searched inside myself and found that I still loved her, but at the same time, I also realized that this was part of the sex- slave seeds function. That is how it kept you loyal to your mistress, and that is why no one ever watched me.

I decided one day that no matter how good or bad life was with Sheila, I couldn't remain a slave and was determined to escape. However, I needed to learn one last thing; I needed to learn how to jump. I asked Buddy about it. He told me that a lot of the information was general knowledge. I wondered how this could be as Sheila had always been secretive about jumping. He told me that jumpers regularly showed up at the many bars and clubs on the entertainment strip. After a few drinks, most of them would be trying to out-boast each other with their stories.

I had seen Sheila call the lights and call the dark door but I never knew what she was doing. She always spoke to them in a language I did not understand.

When I related this to Buddy, he told me that Sheila used a language that I was not familiar with only to confuse me. It didn't matter what language you used, the light people would come if called nicely in any language. The point was to call them nicely.

Sheila would call these 'light people' then greet them. Sometimes she would laugh and chat a bit with them. Even though I couldn't understand the language she was speaking, I did understand all of her non-vocal communications, her body language. Her gestures and expressions were the same no matter which language she was speaking. I asked Buddy who the light people were.

"No one knows. Some say they are creatures from the forth dimension. The weird thing is that you have to be talk to them politely."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

Buddy didn't answer. He said that he was tired and wanted to go to bed. That was his way of saying that he wanted to fuck. Well I didn't mind. I didn't enjoy it but it was a small price for my freedom. Anyway as a slave, I did not have the luxury of having dignity.

We got into bed and were done in a few minutes. Buddy was a quick lay. After sex, Buddy was always freer with his information. We lay together in bed quietly. I was grateful that Buddy did not like to cuddle after sex. He started talking with no prompting on my part.

"You just call them," he said.

"What?" I asked. I had not been paying attention. I was thinking if I should get up to get a tissue to wipe my butt, but I thought that might ruin the mood.

"The light people, you call them in a friendly way and they come."

"That's it! There must be more to it," I said.

"Nope," he replied, "they just want to be spoken to politely."

"Have you tried it Buddy?" I asked curiously.

"Are you insane? Why would anybody want to call those freaking aliens?" he said getting angry. "Don't be a fool. Where are you going to go? You don't know anything about jumping. You could end up in some horrible world populated with monsters and meet a horrible painful death." He was ranting.

I had not considered that before. I was only thinking of escape. After I thought about it briefly, I decided that death was not a bad alternative to slavery. A slave dies every moment of every day. When I was ready to make my escape, the possible consequences of my actions would not concern me.

"One more thing I heard," he said as an afterthought. "You have got to eat a lot of food before you jump."

"What happens if you don't?" I asked absent-mindedly.

"How the fuck should I know," he snapped at me, and that ended our conversation.

One day over breakfast, I decided on a plan. Buddy did not know it, but he was a critical part of that plan. I had pieced together enough information to attempt a jump. I wasn't afraid, because when you have lost everything including your very identity, there is just no one there to be afraid. Slaves should fear only one thing, slavery. I planned to make my first jump when we had finished the morning training session. It would just be a test.

After breakfast, Buddy and I were learning 'oral techniques for really demanding women', but before our torturer would let us near real women, we had to practice on fruit. We learned how to stimulate various fruits with our tongues and mouths. I got an apple and Buddy got a cantaloupe.

My torturer commanded me to hold the apple with my teeth and not break the skin. I put the apple to my mouth and gently bit down, being careful not to break the skin. It was quite easy until I let go of it. I couldn't help biting into it. I bit into it with a loud crunch. I got a big mouthful and the remainder of the apple fell to the floor. Before the apple had time to reach the ground, my torturer stuck a cattle prod into my crotch and shocked my testicles. I jumped and spat apple all over the place.

She gave me another apple and told me in a sweet soft voice to try again. We went through the cycle of biting the apple and being electrocuted, about 20 times. To tell the truth, I lost count after the second one, but I did eventually learn how to hold an apple in my teeth without breaking the skin.

Next, I was trained in various tongue flicking techniques. It was a challenge to hold the apple in my teeth and at the same time flick my tongue. It was tough, but my apple was a picnic compared to Buddy's cantaloupe.

The torturer had sliced a wide wedge out of a medium size melon. Then she made Buddy open his mouth as wide as he could and completely cover the section that had been cut out. He was then to suck all of the juice and seeds out of the cantaloupe. Then he had to dig out the fruit with his tongue. I wondered in horror at what he might be training for.

Our torturer explained to us that we needed to learn our lessons very well because that afternoon, we were to have a recital in front of the head mistress of the slave school and all of the other mistresses. Then she smiled sweetly and said in a sexy whisper that our testicles would be pressed and dried if we failed to make a good showing.

I finished my lessons before Buddy so I had to wait for him. I was sitting in the locker room on a bench, drying off from my shower when he came in. He plopped down on the bench beside me and groaned in exhaustion.

"Get a shower Buddy, you will feel a lot better," I suggested.

He got up slowly, as if his body weighed too much and ambled off to the showers mumbling, "Jeez, I fucking hate cantaloupe."

I heard the shower start and I anxiously waited for him to finish so I could get on with my plan. In a few minutes, Buddy came out of the shower and started to change into his dance costume. The plan was that Buddy was going to dance 'the ultimate dance' for the mistresses, and while they were all distracted, I would steal Sheila's nip pin and remove the manic sex-slave seed from my thigh, but first, we had to eat.

The cafeteria had its usual bunch of slaves eating or chatting. I got in the food line behind Buddy and stacked my tray high with food. I didn't know exactly what foods were best for jumping but I didn't want to probe Buddy for more information as he was already getting suspicious. He didn't know what was going on but he knew that something was going on.

We sat down at a table and started to eat. I wasn't particularly hungry but I ate steadily, determined to finish the mountain of protein, fats and carbohydrates in front of me.

When I was mostly finished with my food, I took a moment to look around. It occurred to me that I was not like everyone else here. The difference was that I had a plan. Even if the plan didn't work, at least for that moment, I could smell the sweet breeze of freedom better than anyone else in that room.

There was one group of three slaves telling stories about their mistresses. It was a common pastime among slaves. The tall one was saying, "She took a fly swatter once and swatted my ass so hard that I had the pattern on my cheeks for two weeks."

The other two responded with gales of laughter. They had finished with their classes for the day and all three were drinking heavily. Then the next guy in the group told his story, he said, "My mistress tied me up with barb wire and made me eat Jell-O." The other two guys looked at him blankly, "Jell-O?" they said together.

"Well a lot of Jell-O," he replied.

I guess that made all the difference because all three exploded into howls and yells of laughter. I smirked, amused by their stories. I had told more than my share of 'mistress tales' as we called them. I stopped in mid-chuckle. I knew that those slaves had accepted their slavery so completely that they would never contemplate escape. If they had known of my plans, they would have reported me in a Berlin minute.

Those three as well as all the other slaves had become part of a social order, but it was not an order created by their masters, it had been created by the slaves themselves! I believed that their desire for some kind of 'normalness' made them pervert the reality of their slavery until it became something they could except. We had rules, taboos and customs, the abstract foundations of a society. We had driven the final nail in our own coffins by being willing partners to our enslavement. It seemed that of all the millions of slaves throughout the multiverse, I was the only non-conformist. I had heard stories of slaves escaping but those were more like legends and myths. Some of their exploits were difficult to believe. No slave I had ever met knew of anybody that had escaped or had attempted to escape.

We finished our food. I noticed that Buddy hadn't eaten much. His expression was one of resignation. He had not wanted to do the ultimate dance for reasons that were obvious. I talked him into it because I really needed the distraction. I convinced him by threatening to withhold sex. He was so easy to control. I thought of just how much power women had over men because they had a pussy. The only defense against such power was not to be interested in sex at all.

We walked together down the hallway. I stopped with him at the doorway to the main hall. Buddy turned to me and had a question in his look. The question was, 'does he really love me or am I just a disillusioned fool,' but he said nothing.

I thought that even at this late moment he could back out and ruin all of my plans. He still had doubts about making this sacrifice for me. So I gave him the ultimate convincer. I reached under his dancing smock and gave his testicles a firm squeeze. Not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to say 'good luck, lover.' That did the trick and Buddy gave me the closest thing to a smile I had ever seen on his face. He turned quickly and entered the room full of the mistresses.

The dance was the perfect distraction. It was rarely preformed and could be preformed only once by each dancer, so no one was going to miss it. I hoped, as I was running to the locker room that my first attempt at jumping would not become my last.

It was easy to get Sheila's nip pins. Clothes were not locked up, because all of the slaves could be trusted not to steal anything. I was going to break the rule. Although the sex- slave seed made you feel some kind of love and loyalty to your mistress, it obviously couldn't control all of a slaves actions. It was necessary for the slave to actively comply and give in for the seed to be 100% effective. Up to this point in the seeds history, every slave had complied and no slave had ever tried to escape.

I walked in and found Sheila's clothes. There was no one around because everybody was watching Buddy do the ultimate dance. Her jacket was hung up in her private compartment. I pulled the red nip-pin from the collar. It was as easy as Buddy had said. I pushed the nip pin in and it locked on to the sex-slave seed behind my knee. I simply pulled it out. It bled a bit then stopped. I hadn't completely believed Buddy when he had told me how to remove the seed, because I thought that it couldn't have been that easy to remove, but it was. I dropped the accursed thing on the floor, and ran out into the hallway for the next step in my plan, to attempt my first jump.

I had heard many contradictory things about jumping and the light people, but most agreed on a few basic things. First, no one really knew what jumping was, not even the jumpers. Either they couldn't find out or no one cared enough to find out. They learned the procedure and copied it, that's all. They did not care what was behind it all. At the time, I didn't care either, I just wanted to get out of there.

The stupidest thing about jumping was that there was nothing to learn. You called the light people in a polite way and they came. They always responded to polite requests. I found out later that to refuse a polite request was unheard of by the light people.

I stood at the end of the hallway, just outside the locker room and called the light people. I had thought of how to call them. I wanted to use a few grandiose words as befitting such an occasion, but instead of a cascade of flowery prose, I said, "Hey light people, could you come...huh...here, I mean..."

I didn't really know what to say, I had fumbled my chance. I felt just like Neil Armstrong must have felt when he fumbled his historic words. It seemed to have worked anyway because the air in front of me started to sparkle with multi-colored lights. I jumped back with my heart in my throat. I had seen many weird things already in the multiverse, and I had seen the light people before but this time I was calling them. I had the power and that made my skin crawl in fear and exited anticipation. Like the first time I drove a car. The lights started to jump around and swirl. They brightened, and to my surprise, they answered me, not with audible words but with feelings that I somehow understood.

"Hello creature," they said in unison, and they all sparkled and twirled about some more. "What can we do for you?"

I thought that I should keep it simple and direct, "Can I jump out of here?" I asked.

"Sure," they replied. "We will bring the dark door if you want...are you ready?"

"Wait, can I get back once I've jumped?" I wondered, remembering Buddy's warning about worlds full of monsters and painful death.

The lights danced around and glittered. Finally, they calmed down and one lone blue light in the corner asked, "Why would you want to come back, isn't this an escape?"

I thought about that and then I said, "What the fuck was I thinking, of course I don't want to come back...then where would I go?"

"Go," the lights said all together. "You are in the multiverse and you will always be in the multiverse, where is there to go?"

I really didn't understand what they were talking about and I didn't care. I thought that I had been ready to face the unknown, but when the moment came, I got cold feet and couldn't do it.

Then I remembered who I was, a nobody, a slave, property. If my mistress killed me, no one would have given it a second thought. They would probably have applauded her for teaching the uppity slave the lesson he deserved. I was afraid of the vastness of the unknown but I was even more afraid of the unvastness of my slavery.

What I thought would be a test to see if I could jump, had become the real thing. It would be a one-way trip to freedom or an instant death sentence. I nodded my head and the dark slit appeared. I got ready to jump into the dark door as I had seen Sheila do many times. I hesitated as conflicting thoughts swirled around inside my head.

Then I heard the finale of Buddy's dance. It was Buddy screaming at the top of his voice in pain because the dance concluded with a 10-kilo brick being dropped on Buddy's balls. The dance was followed by thunderous applause and much whooping and cheering by the mistresses, for this was one of the most popular dances and too rarely preformed for their liking. All of the mistresses loved to see any kind of maleness being destroyed, testicles being at the top of their list. That was why the dance was so popular. It was difficult to find very talented dancers that were willing to sacrifice their jewels just for the amusement of a few sadistic bitches. Even slaves had to be convinced to do it because, although you could forcibly drop a brick on someone's balls, you couldn't force them to dance sensually before doing it.

Time was running out for me to decide. Buddy had done his part by distracting everybody. He had made the ultimate sacrifice so that I could make good my escape. He did not know I was escaping because I had made him believe that his dance and ultimate sacrifice would make me love him back. He was expecting me to meet him at the hospital where he would be spending the next several weeks. He would be disappointed and broken hearted but I didn't care about him or anything else at the time, just my escape. He had bought me my moment and now it was up to me, it was now or never.

I gathered what little courage I had and took a deep breath. I was just about to leap when I noticed that the applause had stopped. I glanced over my shoulder into the eerie stillness of the wide corridor behind me. I felt like a child doing something naughty. Then I saw people coming around a corner. It was the mistresses leaving the dance and I saw Sheila among them.

"Shit, it's all over," I thought. I was caught!

In a few seconds, my future had gone from 'free citizen of the universe' to 'rotting dungeon shit'. I quickly resigned myself to defeat, torture and slow death. I wished for a weapon to kill myself with or a spike poking out of the ground that I could throw myself onto. I had lost my chance because I had hesitated and I couldn't even find a way to avoid long and prolonged torture with suicide. I stood there frozen, following the group of mistresses with my eyes as they walked up to me. I waited in growing fear as they approached. I was sure that they would drag me into a tiled room with a drain in the middle of the floor. I had no doubt that they would extract every single co-conspirators' name from me, real and imagined. I waited with my heart thumping thickly in my chest, for the inevitable, but the group walked by. They were all busy talking and laughing and went by me as if I wasn't there, which was normal as slaves are treated as invisible until they are needed.

I didn't understand what had just happened. Why hadn't they seen the lights? I turned back to face the lights again but there was nothing there, only the wall of the hallway.

As the group was walking away from me, I overheard one mistress commenting on how 'smashing' the dance had been. That got a big laugh. Another said that they were all going to the lounge for drinks and snacks. The group turned down an adjacent corridor and suddenly it was quiet again.

The lights came back as if someone had turned on a switch. They sparkled and dazzled in front of me and I jumped back in surprise.

"Sorry about that," the light people said, "but we would rather not be seen by those we do not know the politeness of, thank-you."

Boy, were they strict about this politeness thing. I commented about it and they said, "Our culture is very strict on being polite, there is nothing of greater value in the multiverse."

I thought that these light people were a bit naïve. I figured that even fourth dimensional creatures didn't know everything. It was all very interesting but I didn't have time to ponder their cultural peculiarities at that moment. I had been given a second chance at life and this time my fear did not make me hesitate. I sprang forward and jumped into the dark door. I was finally 'free'!?

### Chapter 3

### Mom's home cooking in a Booth

The problem with restaurants is that you have to eat there. You might think that we all have a choice of whether to eat out or at home, but this is not true. For some of us there isn't a choice because it depends on the circumstances of your life where you eat. Some people were dealt good food circumstances and they can eat at home, but for the rest of the multiverse, they have to eat out.

Some people just never learned how to cook, some work too much. Some live on the street and have no stove, or even a home, some are just too lazy and of course if you happen to be a jumper.

Early in every civilization, everyone eats at home. Then people get so specialized that they loose the knowledge on how to feed themselves, so the restaurant appears and its importance increases. The restaurant soon becomes a necessity of life as less and less people learn how to cook. There comes a point when the restaurant becomes a person's normal, regular place to dine. The drive-thru window and home delivery completes the cycle. Now we can eat at home but the restaurant still feeds us.

At this point, the restaurant becomes a nurturing mother symbol, because it feeds you and cares for one of your most basic need. Once so established, it doesn't have to give you good service or good food because you were weaned on the stuff and will eat whatever 'mom' gives you. This is why there are so many bad restaurants in the multiverse.

Case in point: In one world there is a restaurant called McDouchebag. Their corporate logo is made of two gigantic yellow breasts pressed so firmly together and pointing so far out, that even a blind man could see the cleavage. They are not modest about their maternal image; in fact, it had to be their biggest selling point because there food sure wasn't. On their marquee, they claimed to have served billions of people and I believe them, but it doesn't say what they served or how they served it. Bad food and bad service were a muliversal constant, but some worlds did it better than others.

### Chapter 4

### If your food moves, eat it!

I out-jumped into a gloomy damp world. It was chilly and thin wisps of ground fog snaked around my ankles. I was walking down a dirty street in a ramshackle mud and dabble village.

I was getting better at jumping but I was still an amateur at it. I had not cared in the beginning where I jumped to, I just wanted to get away from Sheila. Now that I had made good my escape, I had to survive or all of my efforts would have been for nothing.

Food was my first priority after I jumped into a world. I stopped in front of the largest shack on the street. There was a sign on it that said, 'SLOP'. It sounded like a restaurant to me. I had learned quickly how to recognize places to eat in the various worlds I had ended up in.

I walked into what looked like a movie set of a swamp. The floor was covered in mud, and little slimy things were crawling about. There was even a small stand of mangrove trees against the far wall.

It was a standard restaurant set-up. Tables and chairs on one side and a long bar along the other side. I had seen the configuration in other worlds; I supposed that there were only so many practical ways a restaurant could be set up.

I took a high stool near the end of the bar and signaled for the barkeep. The bar was as alive as the floor. It was made of a split log with mosses and fungi growing on it. A small multi-legged creature scurried out of a hole, making a mad dash for the edge of the bar. I lost interest in it and called for service again.

As I waited, I tried to act casual and not be conspicuous. I looked around the damp room. The few customers that were there were busy eating. No one was looking at me. I seemed to be safe for the moment.

I called for service again. Having just jumped into this world, I needed to replenish my low calorie supply and I was getting impatient. I was in the middle of shouting for service when I felt someone behind me. She had come up so silently that she was standing right next to me before I even noticed her. I jumped in my seat.

"What the fuck you want gringo?" she said in a gravelly voice with a phony Mexican accent.

I turned to see a chunky short woman with messy hair. She wore a dirty lace apron with ancient food stains on it.

"So what's good?" I said, regaining my composure and trying to sound casual. I wanted to seem like I belonged there.

"Nothing's fucking good," she spat out at me. "Do you want to eat or not?"

"Yeah sure, bring me the special," I said as if I knew what I was talking about.

This made the waitress throw her head back and cackle like a witch. It sent chills up and down my spine.

"The special," she hissed through her laughter. "You have never eaten here before, huh?" she asked redundantly, and walked off still laughing.

She returned in a moment with a large plate that had a metal dome covering it to keep the food warm. She put it down in front of me, crossed her arms and just stood there as if waiting. I immediately grew suspicious. I looked up at the waitress and asked, "What's wrong?"

She gave me a stern look. Then her ugly face cracked into a big shit-eating grin. She said, "Wrong? You'll get a shorter list if you ask what's right." She exploded in mirth and walked off laughing so hard that she was spitting, coughing and farting all the way back to the kitchen.

Well whatever it was, I didn't have time for it, I had to eat. One of the first rules I learned about jumping was that eating was the first priority. If I jumped again without eating, I would have ended up missing some body parts when I arrived. I heard about one guy that jumped without eating enough calories and he arrived without his head. The jump used calories from the food you ate or from you.

I lifted the lid. The food looked like a flat loaf of dark bread. The light wasn't that great in the restaurant, but it seemed that this was some kind of normal food. I had had a few bad food experiences already but this seemed all right. It was light grey in color and had a gelatinous texture. I took a cautious sniff and it smelled OK. Well at least it didn't smell bad.

I was just picking up my fork and knife when I noticed that one side of the loaf seemed to be melting. I bent down and got closer to examine it more carefully when suddenly the whole loaf started to move. I sat back and watched the surface of my meal move about like I was in a surreal dream. What was happening was that my food had been colonized by trillions of microbes. I couldn't even see the actual food beneath because of all of the bacteria on the surface.

Then the smell hit me. I guess the billions of creatures on the surface had created a smell proof skin when they weren't moving. Now as they moved about, there was nothing holding the stink back. It made my eyes water and even made me pee a bit from the intensity of the smell, but regardless of the state of the food, I had to eat. I tried to slice off a corner but my knife just went through it like it was made of loose shit. I threw down the knife and fork, and grabbed a spoon and holding my nose I scooped up a big glob of pulsating bacterial snot and put it in my mouth. It wasn't that bad. The fumes stung my eyes a bit but after you 'chewed' some, at least the microbes stopped moving around. In the end, there really was no choice, you ate whatever you could find or you lost body parts on your next jump.

The food seemed to have been meat of some kind at one time, but now it had no texture left. It was like a lumpy chocolate moose as the microbes had acted as a marinade and had predigested it.

I managed to finish off the whole plate without throwing up. Jumpers that threw up were dead jumpers. I felt pretty good considering how nauseating the food seemed at first, but now I was thirsty.

I called the waitress again and she came over still chuckling. She was so smarmy that I wanted to smack her right in that smart-ass smile, but that would have interfered with my meal. Anyway, I am a non-violent and peace-loving man because I usually get my ass kicked in most fights. I bit my tongue and ordered, "I need something to drink."

She bent over to my ear and said in a humorous English accent, "perhaps something warm and savory, kind sir?"

I thought that that was a good recommendation after what I had just eaten, so I said, "Sure, bring me a double."

She stood up and smiled a smile that terrified me. I knew that something bad was going to happen but I just sat there and did nothing. In a quick motion, she lifted her right leg and put it on an adjacent bar stool. Then she grunted once and a long yellow stream of piss shot out at high pressure from between her legs.

My stupid mouth was still open from surprise and caught the full force of the urine. I flew off the barstool in shock and disgust. She followed me around the room and kept pissing on me as I was scampering around the muddy floor, trying to get away.

Finally, she ran out of urine and went back to the kitchen, laughing all the way. I picked myself up and crawled back up my barstool. I got my spinning head together just in time to be handed a desert menu and a dirty dishrag by the barman. He had just come in from the kitchen. He was big, ugly and smelled like a wet hippo's ass.

"Thanks," I managed to say, and wiped the piss off my face.

He leaned close to me as if he were sharing a secret and said, "Hey you don't know about Doris?"

"Who the fuck is Doris," I asked automatically, as the name rang no bells.

"She is the waitress from hell of course," he said in a forced whisper and motioned over his shoulder with his eyes.

"Oh the bitch, her name is Doris?" I asked.

"Yeah, you alright, are you on something?"

"What, no look I'm just a bit shaken up, what about her?"

"She's, you know..." He blurted out then started making the most grotesque faces imaginable.

I immediately got paranoid and thought about making a dash for the door but his face went back to its normal ugly self. I was half off my stool, ready to run for the door and jump the fuck out of there quickly. Emergency jumps were dangerous because you never knew where you would end up. You might even end up in a world with no restaurants or even no food at all. If that happened, then that was where you died. I sat back down.

"Hey, you are jumpier than ten chipacucus with a quartet of Jupiter jumping beans up their collective anus. Sit down and relax, this place is cool."

Of course, this ugly barman had no idea that I was running from the most relentless evil creature in the multiverse. I knew that I was not safe anywhere, no matter what he said. I relaxed a bit and he explained that for his species the face contortion thing was quite normal and happened for no particular reason. I wasn't listening and casually picked up the desert menu. I was wary of this world already but felt that I needed just a few more calories before I jumped again.

I looked at the choices on the desert menu. It all looked good but I settled on a 'Mud Pie'. The dish was made of a chocolate brownie, chocolate ice cream, chocolate syrup with chocolate sprinkles on top. I gave the barkeep my order and thought about my life.

Lately my moods and emotions had been going up and down a lot. Being perused by an insane homicidal Amazon had made me a manic fool. I would have loved to have popped a few lithium tabs or sunk completely into the warm and cozy cocoon of insanity, but I could not so indulge myself. I would have no rest and I fully expected Sheila to find me soon. I lived with the dread of death and was surprised every morning that I was still alive.

There were bright spots even in my hectic existence, like the one I would momentarily experience, my desert arrived on cue and mercifully interrupted my depressing thoughts. The bar man brought it this time. He placed the large bowl of chocolate destruction in front of me and offered me some advice, "She really is the waitress from hell mate, don't fuck with her, she'll kill you."

I chuckled at his statement as I spooned the fabulous concoction into my mouth. 'Kill me,' I thought. "That was a laugh."

He couldn't have known that after Sheila, I wasn't afraid of much else. I was actually considered brave in several worlds because Sheila had put the multiverse into true perspective for me. I knew that there was only one evil and her name was Sheila. Compared to her, everyone else was just a joke. The fiercest sadistic bastard son-of-Satan was just a weak-ass fart as far as I was concerned. If someone wanted to kill me slowly over several days, I'd laugh and be grateful for a quick death. So I really couldn't take what he said seriously.

I returned my attention to my dessert. It was delicious. What a terrific combination of flavors and textures. I wondered how this wonderful concoction ended up on a menu in a nauseating dump like this. I quickly finished the whole bowl.

The dessert had been so good that I thought it couldn't possibly have been bad for you in any way. I found out later that most of the ingredients of the dish I had just eaten were responsible for more deaths, by virtue of being unhealthy, than the many wars fought in the world that this delicious confection had come from.

I was now loaded with calories, at my maximum usable calorie level. It was time to jump out of this shithole restaurant and plan my next move. I had expected Sheila to be hot on my tail, but I had not seen a sign of her. I concluded that the multiverse was a big place and the odds of me running into her were astronomical. Well, luck wasn't always a bitch. I called the light people.

They appeared in the middle of the room. A few patrons turned to look then returned to their conversations. Weird shit probably happened here all the time because nobody seemed surprised. I greeted the light people and they sparkled like millions of mini novas. Then I said, "I'd like to jump."

"Sure dude, we'll take you where ever you want to go," they answered together. The dark door opened and I jumped.

I found myself in the netherworld, the place in between worlds, where the light people lived. Worlds were flashing by me rapidly, I needed just to reach out my hand and a world would grab me and pull me in. The worlds that flashed before me all looked bad and I even saw hell flash by. I had to choose soon because the netherworld ate up a lot of calories. When you jump you have to take chances and you have to be lucky. A world flashed by that looked promising. I reached out my hand and was jerked into that world.

### Chapter 5

### The Dance of the Dildo Impaling

I out-jumped and found myself in a dark and gloomy world. I was in a dark alley. I walked out and merged with the pedestrians on the street. The people I passed all looked away with their collars pulled up and hats tipped down. I could feel their hostility like the damp cold on my shoulders. I felt that I had to get off the streets fast, I felt too exposed and vulnerable outside.

I stopped in front of a doorway. There was an old sign on it that said 'EAT'. It was grey and the black letters were almost faded away. It was not an inviting place but I needed to get inside and I needed to get some food. Jumpers have to learn not to be choosy. I then did one of the stupidest things I have ever done in my life; I went in!

I walked into a long smoky room. A bar with stools went down one side to the rear of the building. I craned my neck searching for a seat. All the seats seemed to be taken so I squeezed by the seated patrons at the bar to find a seat further inside the restaurant. There was barely enough room to get by between the wall and the barstools. I struggled through and finally found a lone seat at the very rear of this very long and narrow restaurant.

I sat down and called for service. I looked around while I waited, as I always did, wary of anybody suspicious that might be a spy for Sheila or on the lookout for a trap that she might have set for me. I could barely see down the bar because of the thick smoke in the air. The bar extended maybe thirty meters from where I was sitting until it reached the door I had come in from, at the other end.

I looked at the people around me. They were all busy eating and drinking, some were chatting or smoking, it seemed like a normal bar crowd. Thick cigarette and cigar smoke curled in the hazy air above their heads like living serpents.

Suddenly a wave of heat went through my body. I was reacting to something but I didn't know what it was. All I knew was that it wasn't good. I tried to relax and act casual but something was making me jumpy. I re-signaled the bar girl for service, I needed a drink to calm down.

The bar girl was quite a way down the bar and I couldn't see her through the smoke and dim light. I tried to cover up my obvious paranoia by calling rather gruffly, "Come now I want service, I have waited long enough."

She started walking toward me and I strained to make her out but I couldn't see her face. Then she passed one last thick cloud of cigar smoke and came into clear view. I finally saw her face, it was fucking Sheila!

She smiled in a wicked way that said, 'your balls are thin sliced salami and your life doesn't have enough future to wipe my ass with'. I actually used to think that look was sexy, what the fuck was wrong with me.

She stood just on the other side of the bar from where I sat. I was so surprised and so scared that I did nothing. I just sat there like a dumb dickweed. Sheila's smile got broader and her smile sent waves of fear down my spine strait to my balls.

Suddenly the seriousness of the situation registered on my paralyzed nervous system. I thought quickly and came up with a fast plan. If I could panic the crowd, I thought, I could escape in the confusion. I yelled, "FIRE!" No one moved or reacted. The level of the ambient noise didn't even change.

I yelled again, "FIRE...INVASION FROM OUTER SPACE... IMMIGRATION!" Nothing worked. It slowly dawned on me that these were not ordinary diners; they were all under Sheila's control. And as I realized this, they all stopped talking and turned to face me in one single motion.

Boy was I fucked. There was no way out. I stood up so I could at least face up to Sheila like a man, even though I knew I wasn't going to last ten seconds against her.

"So shithead, what do we do now?" she said and glared down at me from across the bar.

I almost felt a glimmer of hope. For an instant, I felt like I was in the final scene of a movie, where the good guy escapes the horrible death the bad guy had planned for him, rescues the leading pussy and gets blowjobs in paradise forever.

However, life was not a movie with Sheila in the script. She was just toying with me, implying that perhaps there was a way I could avoid long and slow torture at her hands. She was just like a bad parent toying with a child. What a cold cruel bitch she was. Ironically, this was the very quality had made her such a good fuck-mate. So not having the faintest idea how to respond, I said, "So what now what."

I didn't even know what I had meant, I was really confused but that meant little to Sheila, it just pissed her off. She jumped over the bar in one motion and had me by the throat before I could take my next breath and in spite of the fact I was destined for de-testiculization by Sheila, I still marveled at her incredible athletic prowess. I didn't have time to admire her for long because I had to struggle just to breath and not have my neck break in Sheila's firm grip.

I tried one last thing, I managed to croak out a few words even though I could barely get them out, I offered a huge bribe to anyone that would leave, "Just walk away," I said, squeezing out the last bit of air out of my lungs.

Of course no one moved. They were all too afraid of Sheila's wrath to do anything. I didn't think it would work anyway. It had been just a desperate attempt to forestall the inevitable.

Awkwardly I attempted to call the light people and the dark door. I could still breathe a bit so I figured I only needed to get out a short greeting to get the light people to take me away from there. Just as I took a slow labored inhale to call for the light people, Sheila brought her right knee up between my legs with so much force that I heard a crunching sound that echoed up and down the room and made every male in the bar wince. Then the same knee lifted me completely off the ground and just held me there.

I dangled there on her knee not only unable to call the light people but unable to stand, breath, see, hear, reproduce my own kind or remember my name. I would have happily collapsed onto the dirty floor and died right there except that Sheila held me fast by my neck. I felt like a limp sack of near dead shit.

Now, most sadistic maniacs bent on vengeance would have been happy beating the shit out of me for a day or two then killing me, but Sheila was not your average psycho. She had given my suffering and ultimate demise some very careful thought.

She called the dark door and the patrons stepped back in fear and wonder as the light people appeared next to us. They danced joyfully waiting for a friendly greeting or kind word from somebody.

I struggled to clear my head as pulses of swollen pain raced up to my brain from my demolished sperm holders. I thought that if I could greet the light people, maybe I could jump and get away first. I had not eaten yet and would have lost a few body parts but I had no choice.

Just as I prepared to speak, the hand around my throat squeezed tighter, completely cutting of my air supply. Sheila would not allow any such nonsense as trying to escape. She greeted the light people and asked to jump.

"Sure, come on," they said, "and bring your friend along too."

Sheila squirted a small tube of a sweet substance into my mouth. She released my throat just long enough for me to swallow it then gripped my throat tightly again. She had just fed me jump calories so I would arrive at our destination whole. Then she jumped and dragged me along with her.

We out-jumped into outer space. I found that my hands were bound behind my back and I was bent over. Evidently, in this space it was possible to be 'bent over'. I could also breathe with no difficulty; each world had its own rules and laws.

I looked around and there were several large galaxies 'near' us. I couldn't help notice how magnificent they were in spite of my predicament. As I was looking around, I glanced over my shoulder and saw Sheila doing something that defied the imagination; she was pushing a small planet toward me.

My skin started to crawl as I began to realize the shocking truth of what she was doing. The torture she had envisioned for me was diabolical indeed. The planet came ever closer to me until it was pushing up against my butt. She kept pushing and pushing and the damn thing started going up my ass. She shoved that damn world all the way in my back door, right up to the diameter. I screamed and screamed. If this seems like some inter-dimensional homo-fantasy, it is not. In some worlds, this kind of thing is not only possible but also quite normal.

After she withdrew the planet from my butt, she smiled at me and asked in an innocent voice, "Wow, you were pretty tight, were you a virgin?"

I spat back, "Eat shit bitch!"

Well that got her real mad and even when Sheila is torturing you to death it never helped to make her angry. Her eyes grew to almost twice their size and the look of hate and anger in them made me wet my pants.

She tore through my pants and grabbed me by my testicles. She started to swing me around her. I went faster and faster, around and around. My poor man sack stretched me out farther and farther as we spun around Sheila. My scrotum was being stretched thinner and thinner and became so thin that it was in danger of becoming a linear singularity and just vanishing from this space.

Before that happened though, Sheila reeled me in and called the dark door again. I floated next to her as the beautiful multi-colored lights appeared in front of us. She had gathered my scrotum and dumped it in my arms. It looked like a large bowl of hairy angel hair pasta with two small meatballs on the side. Sheila grabbed me by the skin of my belly and we jumped.

We jumped into a black world. It really wasn't black, it was that there was nothing there. I was not in the nothing but rather I was the nothing.

I felt a strange sensation in my mouth. I felt around with my tongue and found numerous small objects in there. Actually, there were trillions and trillions of objects. I realized that I was in an inverted world. Here infinity existed inside and not outside like most of us are used to, and in this case inside my mouth.

It was the most horrible feeling I had ever felt. Much worse than having a planet shoved up my ass. It hurt terribly in some undefined place. If I believed in a soul, I would say that that is where I felt the pain. However, in spite of the terrible suffering I was going through, I took a moment to notice just how novel this world's physical arrangement was. I couldn't see the universe, I could only taste it.

The stars tasted spicy like the after taste of black pepper. There were planets and they tasted mostly like mushrooms, but most of space was made up of uncountable numbers of intelligent particles called neutrinos. They tasted like whipped cream. Finally, I got a taste of interstellar dust and it was terrible. It tasted like cockroach douche-water.

I rolled everything around my mouth and found a big patch free of matter. This was the true taste of space, the taste of nothing. It was cool with a slight taste of mint. I had read long ago something that an astronaut had said, that space tasted metallic and bitter. He must have been referring to another space.

Sheila finally got bored of torturing me and we jumped to her castle on her home world. She threw me at a big gross hairy creature that served her and said that she was going up to her room to take a bath. She always had to clean up and get all perfumed and feminine after she tortured somebody.

After she killed someone, sometimes she would dress up like a nun and pray through the night. Sometimes she would whip herself in penance, repeating, 'bad girl' over and over. I think that she believed she was really a real nun during her penance. Sheila might be an insane alien sex-predator but she seemed to have been raised a good catholic girl as well.

The hairy creature kicked me down every step as we descended into the bowls of the ancient castle. Finally, my bruised body came to rest in front of an old iron door. The big hairy guy looked like a giant Cousin It, with serious split end problems. I looked up at him from the ground. I spat out a mouthful of dust and straw and asked him if his mother had been an old broom and his father a fresh pile of shit. He took offence to this and kicked me repeatedly in my stomach. I spat out blood and threw up a bit. He finally got tired of kicking me and opened the iron door. He tried to kick me into the cell but I rolled out of his way and rolled in myself. I did avoid another kick but inadvertently rolled myself off a ledge inside the cell and landed hard on the ground. I heard the old iron door creaking closed behind me.

I lay in a position that I thought should be impossible for a human body. My arm was somehow reaching down my back over my shoulder and I could see my hand between my legs. I untangled myself slowly and came to rest on my back. I massaged my shoulder and though still painful, seemed to be fine. I took stock of the dreary place I was in. It was dark, dirty and damp and smelled like the business end of an elephant's large intestine.

I crawled to my feet and was feeling my way through the darkness when I stumbled over something on the ground. I caught myself and didn't fall but was surprised when it made a sound. It seemed that something was alive down here. That was a good sign as far as I was concerned. I bent down trying to see through the darkness and said, "Hey, are you alright?"

"I was until some asshole kicked me," came a sleepy reply. It was a woman's voice. I could just see her standing up as my eyes adjusted to the dim light.

"I am Janeus Recivitus," she introduced herself. "I was the head priestess of the temple of Venus. Now I am a prisoner of the evil sorceress and will end my days as one."

"So Janus, how did you..." I started to ask.

"No, it is Jan-e-us!" she snapped back, enunciating each syllable to me as if I were a child. I was already not liking this bitch, she reminded me too much of Sheila.

"Whatever your fucking name is, I don't care, and I don't care for your defeatist attitude either. I don't plan on dieing here."

"So what are you going to do big boy, drill your way out with your manly tool?" she said, her voice seething with sarcasm.

That really pissed me off. After all of the shit I had been through with Sheila and getting kicked around by that walking hair ball, I just wasn't in the mood for it. I reached out my hand to grab her but with incredible speed she counter attacked. I had not intended to hurt her, only to emphasize my point, but she did not interpret it that way and proceeded to beat my ass. The one-sided fight went on for about half an hour. It seemed longer, but I think time seems to drag out when you are getting your ass kicked. She told me latter that martial arts training had been part of her temple education.

After she beat me up, she said that she felt much better. The stress of being imprisoned had wound her up pretty tight. I was glad I could help out, although I was sore for two weeks.

I found out that being imprisoned with the head priestess from the Temple of Venus wasn't that bad. Her job at the Temple of Venus was to have sex with anybody that came in and made an offering to the temple priests. She was also an expert in numerous sexual techniques. Unfortunately, my man-equipment was in no mood to get stimulated and was actually in deep hibernation from its recent abuse.

I did enjoy her sensual dancing though. I especially enjoyed the ritual 'dance of the dildo impaling' that she was obligated to perform once a day as part of her sacred duties.

After a few weeks, I was feeling much better and I started to look for a way out of that shithole. I spent every day exploring the whole chamber inch by inch. We were in one big tall stone room with no windows. The one door into the cell never opened. All of the crappy food that they fed us was dropped down a shaft from somewhere above. The shaft was only three inches wide and it ended at the ceiling that was ten meters off the floor. It seemed that the door I came in through was the only way out. I didn't see much possibility of escape so I settled into the routine of dungeon life.

Janeus gathered our food every day and set it out on the ledge for us to eat. Gathering food was part of her ritual duties, but in place of dancing through fields of wheat and corn in bright morning sunshine, gathering natures fresh bounty, she danced her way around our filthy dungeon picking up rotten vegetables and animal bones that they had dropped down the hole. She would then say her prayers over our meal and we would eat. One day while we were eating, I asked her how she happened to be imprisoned.

"What do you mean? I was careless and stupid," she answered.

"No I mean what did you do to Sheila to piss her off so much?" Then thinking about it, it could have been anything. I had seen Sheila kill someone because, as she said in her own words, 'I don't like the fact that he exists.' Then she made him not exist. She had no feelings, she was like a machine.

"Never mind, it was a dumb question," I said.

"I don't mind telling you. One of Sheila's lovers came to the temple and paid six kilos of gold to do 'around the universe' with the chief anal priestess," she told me. "Sheila caught up with them in the middle of him getting 'worm-hole anal suck' from the priestess. Sheila just lost it completely because being unfaithful to her was just about the worst thing you could have done to her, especially being unfaithful anally.

"She took the priestess and turned her anus into a black hole then set her in place of an actual black hole in the center of a massive galaxy. She is still there sucking up jillions of tons of matter every second into her ass. Her suffering must be very great.

Her lover got an even worse punishment. Sheila sent him to the butt-boy training planet for 'general use'. This meant that anyone, even those that could not afford to pay for a butt-boy could use his butt. That was only during the week. On weekends, Sheila sent him to the fat ladies' spa. Here he was expected to sexually service the fattest grossest women in creation. The punishment would only end when he died. Sheila did not consider this enough though, so she extended his life a million fold just to prolong his suffering.

I listened to Janeus and marveled at the evil and darkness of Sheila's cold heart. "Yes she is evil and has powers beyond our understanding. So what does this have to do with you?" I asked.

"When I saw that my friend's asshole had been turned into a black hole, I got angry. I went up to Sheila and slapped her on the face."

I gasped, "You slapped Sheila and you are still alive?"

"I was only barely alive after she got through with me. She took me to a strange world where some chimpanzee like creatures had somehow offended her. She made me stiff as a board with a magic powder she blew over me. Then she held me by my feet and used me as a club to beat the shit out of those poor chimps. They screeched and screamed, scampering away in all directions. She chased them down one by one and beat them to death with my body. I could not move but could hear their bones breaking as my body hit them repeatedly and could see their blood splattering all about me. This went on for quite a while. I became unconscious several times during the beating. Finally, she had beaten them all to death. My body was covered in blood and internal gore from the chimps.

"She cast me aside on the ground and my body crumpled into a pile. The stiffness from the powder had disappeared and I plopped down like a large bag of jelly. I had so many broken bones that when I tried to move I could only convulse. I lay there in pain, helpless. My body was so broken that I was sure that I was only seconds away from death.

"But that would have been too easy for Sheila; she wouldn't let me die that quickly. Sheila took out a small glass bottle from a pocket and flicked off the top with her thumb. She squatted down over me and said, 'you pathetic thing, you are only a few seconds away from death. I can save you or you can die, you choose, but if I save you, I will keep torturing you and you will become my slave. Which do you choose?'

"I chose life of course, as she knew I would and with that, I chose slavery."

Janeus stopped talking and picked up a limp piece of cabbage to nibble on, she seemed sad. I understood then why she was so resigned to being Sheila's prisoner. She had 'volunteered' to be there and was under a vow. Her honor would not let her go against her own word.

"So she fed me this liquid," she continued softly, "and immediately I started to feel the pain diminishing. In a short time, I was whole and complete again. All of my bones had been repaired and the tears and cuts on my flesh, healed. I had just breathed a sigh of relief when Sheila picked me up my hair and swung me around over her head. She is very strong."

I nodded my head in agreement for I had suffered many times at Sheila's hands and knew of her power.

"She then asked me if I felt better," Janeus continued. "I thought that she expected an answer. I had always been taught that it was impolite not to answer somebody, in spite of being twirled around over her head," she said proudly. I thought that the light people would probably like this woman.

"So I said that I was feeling better and you know what? She got angry because she thought I was being sarcastic and bashed my legs against a tree until they were broken again in dozens of places. Then she found a team of four large horses and made them walk across my already broken legs repeatedly. I fell unconscious over and over again from the terrible pain but Sheila would make me regain consciousness then continued the torture. When the horses had ground down my legs to a shredded mess of hamburger, Sheila finally got bored and she stopped torturing me. She healed me and told me that she had to bathe and pray. She turned me over to a big hairy guy and I ended up here."

Janeus stopped talking and started to gather the scraps of food we hadn't eaten. She always cleaned up after we ate. Her beliefs were that food was sacred and should not be taken for granted and I wholeheartedly agreed with her.

She carried the rotten food bits we hadn't eaten, to a corner of our cell and arranged all the scraps in very pretty designs. Then she pissed all over it and made me do the same. It was to give thanks for the food. I didn't mind, it was a small indulgence for such pleasant company.

We returned to the ledge and just sat quietly. I looked at her closely. I could see quite well in this dim light after all that time in the dungeon. She was really a very lovely woman and the fact that her clothes were tattered and filthy didn't seem to take anything away from that. She had long slender limbs and a small torso. Her once fine brown hair, that must have cascaded all around her shoulders like a brunet waterfall, sat matted and scraggly on her head. That did not matter to me because her person overshadowed all of the superficial dirt.

She looked delicate but I knew that she was strong and able. I found that I felt some kind of respect for this woman. She had suffered so much and yet she had kept her dignity and composure. She had been thrown in here to despair and die but she had done neither. She had even managed to keep to many of her religious duties.

I did not desire this woman and yet I felt something for her. I had never had any feelings for a woman in the past except to want to fuck her. My thoughts went from the wonder of having a new perspective on women, to wondering about what other feelings or thoughts were out there that I was unaware of only because of my own ignorance and for no other reason.

My thoughts returned to Janeus. I looked at her intently, searching for any feelings of love but I could not put my finger on anything. Perhaps we were just fellow prisoners, not man and woman and what I felt was what all prisoners feel when they bond in their mutual captivity. Whatever it was, I had not found anything closer to love.

The days passed and each day passed like the last. Each day Janeus would wake me up by massaging me and singing in a high delicate voice. She sang the same hauntingly beautiful song every morning. It was their morning greeting and all the priestesses did it. She wanted to touch my dick as she sang. She said that it would please the godesses of the morning but I was not in the mood and honestly, probably would never be in the mood again.

She also wanted me to honor the goddess of her vagina and the goddess of her mouth, but I couldn't oblige her or the goddesses on either count. I was as done on sex as any man could be. I had been abused and used up by Sheila to the point where I just wanted to forget about it.

When I was a salesman and wasn't getting any pussy at all, I used to dream about it all the time. So I guess it is logical that the reverse should be true as well. I had had so much sex with Sheila that I never thought about it anymore. Besides, I had this death sentence hanging over my head and that would turn any man's dick into an overcooked noodle.

Our days would go on like that, Janeus had her many rituals and prayers to keep busy while I laid around and mostly watched her. Our 'food' was regularly dropped down the hole and Janeus would gather it, pray over it, and we would eat. We spent a lot of time resting in each other's arms and sometimes she would tell me about her life.

"I was sold to gypsy musicians when I was very young. My father said that there were too many mouths to feed in his family and I was the youngest and most useless member. The gypsies put me to work immediately. I washed their clothes, cooked their food and was a general servant. They did not treat me cruelly, they just didn't consider me a person. I was like the horses they rode, there to serve them.

"One day the fates smiled upon me. They were playing at a festival in the capitol, when the head priestess from the Temple of Venus spotted me. She offered the musicians an exorbitant amount of gold to buy me. I didn't know what was going on until one of the musicians came and fetched me from the river where I was washing their clothes. He told me to come with him and I followed him to the temple. My biggest worry at that moment wasn't where we were going but that I wouldn't have enough time to finish all of my work." She laughed at her own naiveté.

"He told me that I had been sold and left me at the temple with the head priestess. I was lead into a large room where other priestesses were and they sat me at a table. They brought in food and fed me the most delicious things I had ever eaten. I was so full from eating and so exhausted that I fell asleep. I had never eaten until I was full before in my life.

"I slept for two days. When I awoke, I was in mortal fear. I expected to be beaten or perhaps killed for my sloth; instead, I was bathed and fed again. They dressed me in lovely clothes and gave me my own small room.

"The other novices complained all the time, but they had never done without. I never complained because the temple was the nicest place I had ever lived and for the first time in my life, I felt like I had a home. The most arduous and painful lessons were easy for me compared to the work I had to do for those musicians."

"The temple gave me my life back. I was just an animal before. I hadn't even valued my own life. Did you know that," She asked me without turning. "Slaves value nothing including themselves."

Yes, I knew, but I said nothing. Janeus stopped talking and closed her eyes. She took a slow deep breath and let it out. Then in a few seconds, she was asleep.

We spent many days like that or we would just lay in each other's arms and say nothing. We had no concept of time, but our bodies developed their own biorhythms. We had a bedtime and both of us got sleepy together when our day was done. But before we could sleep, she would do 'the dance of the dildo impaling'. This was one of her most sacred duties and had to be preformed every evening before sleep.

I was fascinated with the dance that was normally preformed only in private. I was one of the few people to witness it and not be a priestess. It was quite a long dance and involved the dancer dancing with a large sacred dildo. I will not go into the details as they are too complicated but I will tell you that the things she could do with the dildo were incredible.

Each night the dance was different. A common theme ran through every dance but most of it was up to each individual dancer. The movements depended on the dancer's mood and feelings at that moment. I was amazed time and time again at the bizarre, novel and just plain insane things she would come up with using her sacred dildo. Being creative with the dildo gave honor to the goddess of the dildo as well as the goddess of her vagina, mouth and anus.

After the dance, she would say her evening prayers, then come and lay down in my arms. We rarely spoke during this time; it was a private contemplative moment for priestesses. We just lay there holding each other, each of us with our own private thoughts until we drifted off to sleep.

I thought about my life a lot with all of the free time I had. My conclusion after what seemed like years of reviewing the details of my past, was that my life had been pointless. I had never made a difference to anybody, including myself. Nothing had ever been important to me, I had never done a good deed or for that matter, even had a kind thought for someone less fortunate. I had stumbled through life carelessly, staggering around like a drunkard yet never quite falling down. I had been pretending to be in control all along. In reality, I was a nothing in a multiverse that I knew nothing about. I was a buffoon because I had not bothered to learn anything. That became very clear to me when I ventured out into the multiverse.

It occurred to me that this was simply part of the human condition and not something I should take personal responsibility for. I knew that I should have cared about others more, but I just didn't. Even in that damp bug-infested dungeon, I could not find a single sympathetic bone in my body. I wondered at times if I was actually dead and that filthy room was purgatory itself. I got depressed thinking this way and decided to think about something else. There really was nothing else to think about so I thought about escape.

I had thought about jumping but I didn't have near enough calories to jump anywhere without dieing instantly. I had to get out by the door that I came in through, that was the only way. I had been over every inch of the door and it was a solid iron door that I could barely scratch with what I had available.

I estimated that I had been in Sheila's dungeon for over a year from my beard growth, and in all that time they had never checked on us. The 'food' that they sent down was actually the garbage from the kitchen and the fact that we were dead or alive would not have changed where they dumped it. I figured that no one would ever come down here except to throw another prisoner in and that might be years or even centuries from now. My fate seemed to be sealed. That shithole was where I was going to die. I accepted my fate and resigned myself to my prison routine and to that dank cell; at least I was not alone.

One 'evening' Janeus finished her 'dance of the dildo impaling' and came to lie next to me. Sweat covered her from head to toe. She caught her breath in a few minutes and reached down between her legs. She first gave her sacred dildo a quick twist then slowly eased the large thick cylinder out of her vagina. She let out a loud gasp as it exited her vagina. She placed it back on the flat stone just next to our bed that I had wedged out of the ledge. It had taken me weeks of scrapping to pry it loose. This was her sacred altar. All sacred dildos had to be kept on an altar when not being danced with, rules concerning the sacred dildo were some of her religion's strictest tenants. Bits of bones, scraps of cloth and pieces of petrified food lay on the altar as decoration. I thought it was a gross thing at first but as I got to know Janeus, I came to see it as beautiful because it reflected her artistic side and showed her deep and sincere devotion to her beliefs.

When we first met, I had dismissed her as another temple slut, I had seen many. Some worked in elaborate ritual enhanced churches and some worked down dirty alleys, behind small windows with red lights on. Any way you sliced the fur pie, they were whores.

Janeus was a priestess in all aspects of the word and she was an exceptionally devout one. Her sexual duties were part of her belief system, part of her understanding of the world. I could not use any preconceived ideas that my provincial mind had about sex, religion or the world around us to judge her. I actually started to get the idea that her interpretations of many things made more sense than a lot of the crap I believed.

I had left my little world long ago and had traveled the multiverse and I had found that wisdom was a rare thing. Janeus had taught me that sometimes wisdom was as simple as a woman slowly falling asleep in my arms. I would not be such a quick judge in the future.

Then a day came that began like any other day but it was to be my last day in that accursed prison. I awoke to Janeus massaging me and singing her morning song. I had grown to love that song and it seemed to me that I was falling in love with the voice too. I stretched and let out a long nasty fart. Well at least I was still alive, dieing bodies don't fart.

"Oh my, that was a bad one!" Janeus exclaimed and laughed while waving her delicate hand in front of her nose. She crinkled up her nose from the rancid smell. I had come to find her nose crinkling to be quite endearing. I used to save up my farts and do a real big one just to see her cute expression. Looking back on it, it does seem gross but in that dungeon, it was a ray of sunshine on my kingdom of darkness.

Suddenly something important occurred to me. It should have occurred to me long ago. I sat up from the shock of the realization. Sure, I didn't have the calories to jump but I could still call the light people. That didn't require any calories. I was such an idiot. The light people could tell me whatever I wanted to know. I didn't really know what they could tell me but it would only take a second to find out. I stood up and Janeus rolled off our low bed.

"Do you know about the light people?" I asked without turning to face her.

"I have heard of them, but only in stories. Why do you ask?"

"Because they are not just stories, they are real and I am going to call them. Do not be afraid, they are very friendly and will not hurt you."

She got up and stood next to me. I called them in a casual friendly voice, "Hey light guys, what ya'll doing."

Nothing happened for a few seconds, and then a small speck of pale blue light appeared in the middle of the chamber. It started to spin and more lights appeared. I could see that the little lights were actually entering our universe from the netherworld through an opening that the first pale blue light had made. Then Janeus saw it. I knew this because she suddenly grasped my arm, digging her nails into me.

I realized as more and more lights flooded the room that I was seeing more than Janeus was. This was the first time I had witnessed the light people appearing in the dark, but I was seeing with more than my eyes. I also understood what was happening as it was happening. It was as if someone was explaining what I was seeing. I suddenly understood that the light people did not travel 'to' here, I simply noticed them and it just seemed to me that they had just appeared.

They told me later that from their point of view, they had always been in the dungeon because fourth dimensional creatures are always everywhere. However, they could not communicate with me until I called them because for them to initiate communication required an inordinate amount of energy. They said that all this was difficult for any third dimensional creature like me to understand, but that it would become clearer as I continued traveling the multiverse. I couldn't argue because I hadn't understood anything they had said.

I greeted them profusely and did a small bow. They sparkled and glittered, and danced around wildly. They explained that being bowed to was the highest honor they could receive. They were very happy to see me and said so.

"We are very happy to see you, "they said.

Although I was by now familiar with the light people and quite comfortable with them, I still marveled at how we communicated. I didn't hear their words with my ears. It was as if clumps of meaning were thrown at me. My body received it and translated it into something I thought was hearing but it was much more. I guess humans when experiencing something new always compare it to something they know. I introduced Janeus to them, and if surprise was a rabid dog, it would have bitten me in the ass, the light people knew her.

"Oh yes, we know all of the priestess of Venus. They are a most devout and polite order." They answered when I voiced my surprise.

I am sure that Janeus was as surprised as I was that the light people knew her. She held tightly to my arm but said nothing. I had a question to ask.

"Can you get me out of here?" I decided for the direct route.

"No," they answered simply.

"Well that was easy," I thought. "One easy question, one easy answer, and I am doomed to die in this shit hole."

I looked at Janeus who was clinging to my arm so tightly that I was loosing feeling in it. I pried her hands off and said, "If these guys can't get us out of here, then there is no way out."

She looked up at me and her eyes relaxed as they looked into mine and she said, "It wouldn't be that bad would it?"

"No," I said to her and smiled. "It wouldn't be that bad".

I pushed a wad of dirty matted hair away from her face, to reveal a dirty grubby face. She looked surreal in the multi-color light. I looked at that face, it was familiar, and in that familiar look, I thought I saw love. Did I love this woman? If I did, what did that mean? We were trapped here forever and even if we did get out, what would we do, find a nice home and get a mortgage. I doubted that would be the life for us. Even if it was, Sheila would find us and we would either run or die horribly. Love was not for imprisoned slave priestesses or escaped slaves running from death sentences.

I returned my attention to the light people. It seemed that their 'no' was final. These guys were fourth dimensional creatures and if they said they couldn't get me out of here, then what could a humble third dimensional creature like myself do. I started to say something, when Janeus whispered that I was asking the wrong question.

"What?" I asked.

She addressed the light people directly, "Can you tell us how we can get ourselves out of here?"

"Sure," they said. "That's easy."

Well I was struck dumb. One second we were trapped here forever and just like that, we are going to get out. I started to get excited.

"Well what do we do?" I asked impatiently.

The brightness of the lights diminished and I was afraid that they were going to fade out completely. I suddenly realized that the gruff tone of my voice was what they had not liked. I immediately changed my tone and asked again in a most friendly fashion. They brightened up again and told me, "That door will open in one hour," indicating the only door in the place.

"Yes thank-you. That is all I need to know," I replied.

They said you are welcome by twinkling like sparklers then vanished color by color with the pale blues disappearing last. I could see them closing the doorway into this universe and taking it with them as the last one left.

I turned to Janeus and we slowly sat down on the ledge. We both knew what this meant. In one hour I would have to make my break, it would be my only chance to escape. Janeus knew that I would go but she also knew that she would not. She was under her vow, a priestess' promise. Her word was the most important thing to her and she would suffer for the rest of her life not to violate the thing that she held so precious. I had to respect that, although I didn't agree with her.

I accepted our fate because I could not give up my freedom for anybody, not even Janeus. I had been a slave before and imprisonment was indeed slavery. I knew that if it hadn't been for her, I would have died in that shithole a long time ago but everything was different now, the information the lights had given me meant only two possible outcomes were left open for me, it was freedom or death. If this was to be the end of our journey together, then so be it! Life was making us take independent paths but we were fully capable people and didn't need anybody. We were not like normal people anymore because of the circumstances of our lives and so could not have normal expectations.

I kissed her deeply and I tasted the finality in her kiss too. We didn't expect to see each other ever again. If that was how the fates had decided it should be, then who were we mere mortals to say any different.

I went over to her altar and carefully removed her sacred dildo and all of the decoration. I placed them on the ground next to the stone carefully. Janeus watched me but said nothing. I picked up the rather heavy stone that I had pried out of the ledge for her and carried it to the door. I had spent a lot of time digging that stone out with bits of bone, chips of stone and my nails. Now it would be the instrument of my escape.

I took a seat just behind the door with my rock next to me. Janeus went back to where our bed was and rearranged her altar on a small mound of garbage that she swept together with her hands. She replaced the bits of bone and pieces of food then carefully placed her dildo on it. She knelt and prayed silently.

The time passed quickly and I soon heard the heavy movement of the two iron bars that locked the door. There were also voices. It sounded like there was more than one guard, but that did not matter to me, I would escape or die trying.

The door opened slowly and the muffled voices became clear. I breathed a sigh of relief as I realized there was only one guard. The other voices belonged to two prisoners with him; they were shouting political slogans at the guard as he was pushing them along. Finally, the guard had had enough and he kicked both of them into the cell. The two prisoners rolled by me, then the big hairy guard walked past trying to get another good kick in before he locked them away.

I was standing just behind the door with the stone raised over my head. I saw the hairy guard's foot as it stepped into view. Then his big stupid hairy head came in. I brought the stone down as hard as I could on his head. The stone hit solidly, and then sat there for an instant. Suddenly it split in two and fell on either side of the creature. Hairy stupid smiled a crooked smile then spiraled to the ground like a furry sack of dirty potatoes.

I gave him a hard kick in the head, just to make sure he was unconscious. His head snapped to one side then wobbled back and forth. He wasn't unconscious, he was dead. I looked over to the new prisoners. They were standing in shock with their mouths open.

"Wake up fellas, it's a jail break," I said in an Alabama accent. "Your sentences have been reduced to one minute, you are now free." I gave them a phony bravado laugh with my hands on my hips.

I looked at Janeus, she was still praying quietly by our bed. We had nothing more to say, we had said it all already. I introduced myself to the new prisoners and said, "Pleased to meet you I'm sure, but I have to go and if you know what's good for you, you all will run like the devil was chasing you with a gas powered pitchfork."

I was speaking to the two guys but I had meant it for Janeus. I looked one last time at her, she had not moved. It was time for me to move. I ran out of the cell, down the hallway and up the stairs. I ran through the same series of corridors and stairways I came in but in reverse. I remembered it quite well considering everything.

I ran down the final hallway and burst out of front gate. I squinted as I came out in bright sunlight. I shielded my eyes and continued running. I could smell the sea and turning around a bend in the road, I saw that the road led down to the water. I sprinted the whole way down and ended up at a dock. Nobody had challenged me. Evidently, there were only a few guards. Sheila did not have many escapes. I found out later that I was the first.

I hid among some large crates stacked up along the pier. We were in a small bay, along the shore of an ocean. There were a few boats moored, but I did not see any people or hairy creatures about.

I came out of my hiding place and raced toward a small sailboat. I untied it and jumped in. As I was pulling up the sail, I heard voices and the sounds of running feet. I saw three big hairy guys running up to the end of the dock but they stopped there. The breeze had already caught my sail and the boat was under way. It seemed that they were not inclined to swim after me. They growled and gestured impotently from the dock.

"Fuck-you very much, you dingle-berry motherfuckers," I said, and flipped them off Greek style by flicking my thumb on my teeth.

I pulled the main sheet tighter and the little boat picked up speed. I sat back and heaved a long sigh. I felt a tiredness that I had been carrying around for a long time. I tied down the sheet and lay down. I closed my eyes and my last thought before I drifted off to sleep was that the sunshine somehow felt unnatural to me. I missed the darkness that had sheltered me for so long. I would have to get used to a few things again. Since that day, the sun has always felt strange. Sheila's dungeons had changed me permanently. I fell asleep with a haunting song echoing in my head, a song that I had come to love. I sailed on, with the sun and the sky watching over me; once again, I was a free man.

### Chapter 6

### Bob

I out jumped into a world and found myself under water. It was cold and I could hear distant muffled sounds. I heard some kind of siren or horn, it was getting louder and I thought closer. I suddenly realized where I was and I picked up my head from out of the water.

I had out-jumped just after a rainstorm and was lying on the ground with my head in a deep puddle. The horn sound got louder immediately as I pulled my head out of the water and I turned in horror and beheld a big truck barreling down the highway at incredible speed, right at me.

I jerked my body upright just in time and the massive truck screamed by, barely missing me. It splashed a wall of water at me from the puddle that I had just been lying in. Now that was too much insult to injury, not to mention inter-dimensional irony.

I stood up and followed the highway toward town. I hadn't walked far when I saw a small building on the left side of the road. I pulled up my collar and double-timed it. The sign on the door read 'STINKIN SMOKIN BARR'. It seemed like a place to get something to eat. I walked into the bar and it stunk, just as the sign said. There was an open table in the corner and I took it.

A big fat hairy guy with a dirty pink Spandex tank top came up to me and growled, "We got ale or wine and if you want to eat, we got food, if not get the fuck off my chair."

"No, no I want food and drink, so what kind of wine do you have?" I asked.

He looked at me with an odd confused look, which turned into a big frown. As I looked at his ugly mug, I figured that a stupid face like that probably got confused a lot. He suddenly turned his frown into the big smile. He gave me a little curtsy and asked, "Would you like to see the wine list, kind sir?"

Well this was better treatment than I was used to and felt awkward about how to respond.

"Huh, why sure, thanks," I said.

"OK, here are your choices, you can have your wine in a flagon or you can drink it out of my ass!" he said. Then he broke out in booming laughter that sprayed my face with spittle. I guess that was what passed for humor in this world. I imagined that I would have found it funny too if my face had not been the butt of the joke.

"A flagon will be fine," I said as I wiped the spittle from my face. "I guess I don't get a choice in the food either?"

He leaned over as if to tell me something in confidence and he whispered, "Nope."

He brought me my flagon and I tried a sip. It wasn't bad. I suppose that occasionally, just purely by chance, I had to find a few restaurants where they knew what they were doing. I settled down to wait for my food and looked around. It was your normal bar crowd. No one was paying attention to anyone else in the bar; they already had good company in their drink.

One woman in particular stood out. She vaguely reminded me of someone I knew but I couldn't place her. I couldn't see her face, she was hunched over and her frizzy hair covered most of her face. She was quietly taking large gulps from a flagon. They seemed to be, 'I want to forget', gulps. Then this guy walked up to the bar beside her and ordered a drink. He casually turned to her and said, "Hi, I'm Bob."

I could see that he was trying to inflect some self-confident macho into his voice but it came out silly and weak. The woman's only response was another big gulp of wine.

"Hey what are you doing later tonight, maybe we can go out, that will cheer you up," he said as if they had been friends for years.

She picked her head up from the drooped position it had been in and revealed a face so depressed and unhappy that if a marching band of a thousand clowns had come thundering out of Bob's ass at that moment, she wouldn't have cracked a smile. Joy died on this woman, like thin echoes over open water that only the gods might hear if they cared to.

"Save it," she said in a gravely voice.

I could see her clearly from where I was sitting. She had been pretty once, but time, alcohol, drugs, long nights, abusive boyfriend and split ends had done their worst on her. She was just trash on a barstool now. She very calmly explained in a little girl's voice, "If you think I am going home with you, you are mistaken, gentle sir."

Then she took a huge gulp of wine and shouted out in a booming voice, "So a blowjob is completely out of the question!"

She lifted her left butt cheek and cut this unbelievably loud fart that rattled the floor boards, then she broke out into peals of laughter that were a mix of hyena barks, snorting and giggling.

After a few seconds, the smell from those notable farts arrived to my side of the restaurant. It was the most horrible smell I had ever had the misfortune to smell. I would gladly have traded having to smell that fart, for the smell of a bucket of rotten eggs after it had passed through the digestive system of a Ratellian stink monster with diarrhea.

I recovered and returned to the drama unfolding in front of me. I was amazed that this had not discouraged Bob in the slightest. Bob was very confident in himself. Not that he was anything special. To Bob his sudo-confidence was just an act. The truth was that he had no shame or self-respect. He would do anything to get laid! Humiliating himself was just par for the course. Although this woman did not intend to fuck Bob, he was amusing her, so she kept on playing along.

"My girlfriend will be back from the toilet in a minute and she is pretty jealous, so you better blow," she said.

"Really, you have a girlfriend?" he asked with relish. "Well, bring her along, it will be great! We could have a threesome."

The woman then lost complete control and laughed so hard that she fell off her stool and crapped into her already disgusting pants. I couldn't believe the enormous effort Bob was putting out to fuck this ugly hag that had farted and shat in her underwear. It was incredible that he still wanted to fuck her.

Then, the girlfriend returned from the toilet. The woman at the bar looked reasonably human but the girlfriend was one strange looking alien. She was maybe two and a half meters tall with huge ball shaped muscles all over her body. She looked like a gigantic deformed bodybuilder. She stood right behind Bob, watching him. Bob had no idea that she was there.

The woman got back on her barstool with a big brown stain on her pants. This did not discourage Bob though, because nothing did. He was about to try a new line on the woman when the dipshit finally noticed that a monster was looming behind him and for a brief moment, something got his mind off pussy.

He turned and stood face to chest with that giant of a muscular woman. I knew exactly what he was feeling. He felt at a deep level that his life would not be lasting much longer. He just stood there, amazed. Then a long thin tentacle came out from under the woman's left armpit and wrapped itself several times around mister 'hit on the wrong girlfriend', and raised him to her eye level.

"So you want some pussy do you?" she growled at him like an angry dog. "Have this one then."

She spread her tall muscular legs and revealed the largest, hairiest pussy lips I had ever seen. They were so big and unbelievable that the sight of them made me spit out a mouthful of wine. Only a complete shock like that could make a jumper spit out calories.

She put one leg up on a stool, and that pussy opened up into the most cavernous gross orifice I had ever seen. It looked as if there were stalactites and stalagmites in there. I again spit out wine in surprise. I should have stopped watching as I was spitting out too much food, but I couldn't stop watching. This was the best show I had seen in a long time.

She took mister 'really picked the wrong girlfriend' and shoved him head first into her opening. She started to pump the hapless idiot into her wet musky tube. I spit a third time but I just didn't care anymore, this was just too good to miss.

She pumped faster and faster. Poor Bob had become a sort of ironic superhero, Dildoman. The monster woman was really enjoying herself. Soon her Bob tunnel was making slurping sounds and her juices were flinging everywhere. It had been fun until that moment. A big glob of slimy mucus splattered on my cheek and neck. That's all I needed, stinking alien pussy juice on my face right before I ate.

She then started to groan and moan. Her large hips gyrated as she became more and more excited. The muscles on her legs and her gluts started to contract and tighten. Then a spasm went through her whole body and she stopped pumping. She just held the poor guy deep in her mantrap and had an orgasm that literally rocked the building. She starred strait ahead and grunted with each spasm. After five minutes she finished and withdrew Bob from her wet stinking liver lipped well, and placed him on the floor next to her. Her tentacle unraveled from around his body and disappeared back under her arm.

Dildo-bob stood there for a long second then crumpled to the ground like shit and broken bones in a meat sack. I looked at that dead and shattered man on the floor. I knew by the twisted grimace that he wore on his face, that he had just had the best pussy ever. This had beat out all of the rebirth and Oedipus fantasies ever, rolled into one. He died as all of us must die, but he died happily. How many of us are going to be able to say that when our number is drawn by the unselective service.

The two girlfriends reunited in gales of laughter and much backslapping and farting. Yeah, they stunk, but after that show, I couldn't complain.

As I was philosophizing about Bob's death, my food arrived. It was the standard ceramic oval plate with a metal dome over it. I had had food served to me in many worlds this way. I was reaching for the lid when I heard snickering from the end of the bar. In a doorway that must have led to the kitchen, stood the barman, the cook and the dishwasher, all huddled together and giggling like schoolgirls.

I knew something was up but I didn't have time to fool around. I was low on calories and there was food to eat. I lifted the lid expecting some gross rotten concoction made of some unfortunate animal's end-trails. Instead, there was what looked like a fat crab sitting on a bed of romaine lettuce. I liked crab.

However, something was wrong with the picture. I was trying to figure out how the crab had been prepared; when I noticed that the crab had a neckerchief on like a boy scout but reversed. I thought this was strange but even stranger, she held a fork and a knife. I was more than surprised when her big eyes blinked. Shit, she was still alive.

She suddenly lurched at me and landed on my chest. The little fuck started to fork me and tried to cut a hunk out of me. The laughter grew into howls from the kitchen door as I was fighting hard not to be dinner. I pushed the creature off me and whacked it with the metal lid. She died easily enough. I regained my breath and returned my meal back to her bed of lettuce.

I grabbed my knife and fork and started to dine. I noticed that a claw was still twitching, it was not dead yet so I stabbed it a few times and it lay still. I dug a chunk of snow-white flesh out of its chest. It looked fine. I tried a bit and it was very good. It was probably the freshest food I had ever been served in any restaurant in the multiverse. I rather enjoyed eating her. She was tender, tasty and high in calories. I found out as I was eating that it was indeed a she. As a bonus, she was full of eggs, which I found to be a good compliment to her delicate tasting flesh. I finished her and took a final deep drag off my flagon. I signaled the barman for my bill. He was still chuckling as he came up to me.

"It's 5 dingdongs or a nuggetcita of gold, but I really shouldn't charge you since you did me a favor," he informed me.

"What do you mean?" I asked dumbly.

"We had a bet back there on who was going to be whose dinner. The cook and dishwasher figured that since we gave the cronny the element of surprise, she would have had you for dinner. She had the extra incentive of her twenty thousand eggs that needed nourishment. I didn't really think you would defeat her but they had already called dibs on the cronny. You got her though; you reacted quickly before she could cut your throat and did her in."

"What the fuck guys, you sold us to each other for dinner," I said in disgust.

"It wouldn't have mattered who won, we still would have gotten paid, smart huh?"

"Yeah, yeah fuck you, everyone's a comedian," I said and put the tiny pellet of gold on the bar, one nuggetcita.

I should have expected behavior like this after all of my travels. I had found that the multiverse was populated mostly by stupid self-serving egomaniacs that didn't have a shred of ability to justify their high self-idea. I thought that it was a perspective thing because it does indeed seem that all of creation is revolving around each of us, like the earth-centered universe beliefs of middle ages Europeans. Just from observation, it does indeed seem like the Earth is the center of the universe. You need to just look up at the night sky to see the whole universe rotating around us.

It does appears that we are the center of the universe, but that is how it appears from every point in the universe. How can every point in the universe be the center? That is because in reality we live in fourth dimensional space and no amount of denial will change the facts.

This dumb fuck barman in front of me cared only that he got a laugh and that he got paid for the meal. I lived in a multiverse of people, who like planets, all claimed to be the center of creation, a collective insanity that no one noticed only because everybody was equally loopy.

I needed to get away from assholes like this bartender. I really needed to get away from everybody. The stresses of my life were wearing on me; I could not take it indefinitely. I was a ball of nerves already, idiots like that barman just added to my stress. The real problem was that someone was chasing me through the multiverse to maim and kill me. What I needed was a place where I could find some peace and quiet, a place where there weren't a lot of people, a place with a lot of high calorie food. This world was not that place.

I called the light people and they appeared in the center of the room. I greeted them and asked how things were. They responded by sparkling and dancing about. I took a quick look around. Everybody was watching the lights and me, with shocked looks on their faces. On some worlds, the people didn't give a second look when the lights appeared and on some worlds they freaked out. I asked for the dark door and jumped.

### Chapter 7

An Essay on Fourth Dimensional Jump Mechanics

This is how jumpers understand the foundations of why we can travel the inter-ways of the multiverse to visit uncountable worlds. Even if you are not a jumper, this knowledge could still be useful and applicable to you.

There is only one true world and we call it The Multiverse. All the worlds and dimensions that we jump to are part of the multiverse. However, those many worlds are in third dimensional space, and the multiverse is in fourth dimensional space. 3-D space is like a slice of 4-D space.

When we jump, we don't actually go anywhere because, as the light people told me on our first encounter, we are always in the multiverse. Movement only seems to exist in three-dimensional space, an illusion created by our limited senses. In reality, it is as the ancient mystics said, 'the universe is static, eternal and never changes, change is an illusion.'

In the fourth dimension, movement exists but it is not a phenomenon like it is in the third dimension. Instead, it is a property of an object, like shape or color is to us in the third dimension. Therefore, movement does not change an objects position in the fourth dimension, anymore than something's color would change its position from our point of view. It is easier to understand how phenomena in a lower dimension could be properties of objects in a higher dimension if you go down a dimension, into a two dimensional world.

In that flat world, many objects would have qualities that are properties of objects to us in a three-dimensional world but would be phenomena in that two-dimensional world. All of the elements of an object's shape are physical properties in the third dimension. However, in the second dimension certain elements of an object's shape become phenomena.

For example, a circle would not mean anything in a two-dimensional world, because in order to see the shape of the circle, you would need to jump off the second dimensional world, into the third dimension. Then you could see what it really was. On the two dimensional world the circle would look like a line segment, because you would be looking at it edge on.

If you felt the arc of the circle with your two-dimensional hands, you would surely feel the curve even though your eyes would not register it. Though it looked like a line segment, you would know that it was different from a line segment because the circle had an arc in it. You could feel this phenomenon with your hands, but you could not see the shape of the circle, because the curve of the circle would not be a property of the circle in the second dimension, like in the third dimension. The curve of the circle, which is clearly a physical property of the circle in the third dimension, becomes a phenomenon in the two-dimensional world, because it is something that cannot be seen or represented in two dimensions.

Another good example is an angle. In the third dimension, it is easy to see what an angle is. It is two rays joined at one end, thus forming the angle, simple. However, if a 2-D creature were to view the same angle, what would he see?

If you look at the angle edge on, as you must in the second-dimension, then the angle disappears! It is still there but you cannot see this in the second dimension. In the two-dimensional world, an angle would look like a line because you would be looking at it edge on. The 'angle' has changed from being a physical property of the object in the third dimension, in this case part of its shape to becoming a phenomenon that has no physical representation in the second dimension.

If you felt your hand along this line, you would notice that it is strait just like a normal line. Then you come to the angle. You know something is different there because it makes the line take a completely new direction, the angle 'bends' the line towards you or away from you. The angle stays on a phenomenal level because you cannot see it. For it to become a property of the object, for it to be seen, you must be above it, above it being in the third dimension. The angle is like the curve of a circle and that is something that has no physical representation in the second dimension.

We see movement as phenomena in the third dimension. It has no physical representation in our world. We cannot imagine it being the property of an object, like the shape of an object or its color. How can we possibly understand that movement and shape can both be properties of objects, just depending on which dimension the viewer is in?

This is why third dimensional creatures like us cannot apprehend the true nature of our world. You must see things from a dimension higher than the one you are in, in order to see the true and hidden arrangement. For all we know the universe might be supported by four elephants standing on the back of a giant turtle!

Let's go back to the circle. A two-dimensional scientist might ascertain the shape of a circle simply by marking it at one point then feeling the arc around until he returned to his original starting point. The shape "round' would be a theoretical shape because you could not represent it in any fashion in that two-dimensional world, even though the 2-D scientist knows that such a shape must exist. He would need a very flexible mind to imagine the circle's shape. The greatest minds in that two-dimensional world probably would not be able to do it. It would be very difficult for them to change their understanding of the curve of the circle from a phenomenal level to a physical level, but even the simplest of we third dimensional creatures can see the curve as part of the circle's physical makeup very easily.

This would be the same arrangement for a one-dimensional creature trying to apprehend a line. The one-dimensional creature must look at the line 'point on' and would see only a point. It would never know that the line even existed. Everything in his world would look the same. They would all be points. He would never know the richness of width or depth. However, a 2-D creature could easily see the line for what it was.

Say that you, a third dimensional creature, was hovering over a two dimensional world. You find one of the local inhabitants and call out, "hey you." Well the inhabitant will probably shit his drawers. He wouldn't know where the voice had come from because it came from outside his universe, from another dimension that does not exist for him. The direction that the voice came from was 'up', but his world does not even have a name for that direction. You call him again but he still can't find you.

"Up here," you say, but the guy can't look up because that direction just does not exists in his universe. So you reach out and tap him with a finger. He feels you but can't see you because you are like a ghost, you are just a phenomenon. When we in the third dimension get tapped on the shoulder from a fourth dimensional creature, surely we will not see him.

He will say, "I am right here, just look *****. However, the direction ***** does not exist in the third dimension, we don't even have a word for it. So where will you look?

We see movement as phenomena and I cannot imagine it being a property of an object, like its shape. We are helpless with our limited third dimensional senses and our minds cannot imagine what it might be like, anymore than a two-dimensional creature could apprehend the true nature of an angle.

However, since the shape of an object, something, which we consider concrete and unchangeable, can become a phenomenon in the second dimension, then perhaps we can except that phenomena from the third dimension can become properties of objects in the fourth dimension.

The light people are true fourth dimensional creatures and going from world to world is as simple for them as flipping the pages of this book would be for us. So in the end, there isn't really that much to jumping once you understand the flexible nature of reality and the fact that we are really living in the fourth dimension, although we do not have the senses to realize this.

### Chapter 8

### The Overpass

I had just jumped into the netherworld and was watching the worlds flash by. I imagined it to be like standing in a blizzard of playing cards with moving pictures of different worlds on them, flying at me from all directions. However, all of the worlds were also static and present all at once. It was a fascinating sight.

The netherworld was the place in between universes. It wasn't really a place actually, it was a difficult thing to explain. I asked the light people once about the netherworld and they said it was 'home', they never explained any further. I deduced that the netherworld was fourth dimensional space, but that still didn't mean anything to a third-dimensional yahoo like me. I didn't have the sensorial equipment or the mental complexity to understand it.

I watched the worlds flash by. None of them were particularly attractive. I would have to choose soon, I couldn't stay in the netherworld for too long. I reached out my hand and that world grabbed me and jerked me into it. The light people had told me that the 'being jerked into a world' feeling was comparable to the feeling of being born, which has many similarities to jumping.

I jumped out onto a drizzly cold world. I took a quick scan of the area. I was in a city and dozens of people were gathered around me all starring in wonder. I pulled up my collar and said, "What the fuck you all starring at, haven't you ever seen an inter-jumper before."

What a bunch of one-universe assholes. It sure would have been handy to have had a reality adjuster at that moment, but I had lost mine when I removed the manic sex-slave seed from my thigh. I pushed my way passed the crowd and hurried down the street before someone called the authorities. The light people and inter-dimensional travelers drew a lot of attention in some worlds.

It was early evening and the temperature was starting to drop. I needed to get off the streets, eat a good meal then get into a warm bed with two big fluffy pillows. It was pathetic what some jumpers' deepest fantasies boiled down to.

This worlds money was a paper and coin system. I bought some of it from a bank for a bit of gold, but it was all a fraud. The coins were made of cheap metals and the paper had no value except in the minds of the local inhabitants. Well, it all spent the same.

Now I needed some food. I found a small place called the Sun Café. I went in and took a seat in a booth. Only two other booths were occupied. Each had a lone man eating in it. Neither paid attention to anything except his food. They seemed like normal diners. An overworked unhappy old Chinese man came ambling up to me and said, "Wha shu wan?"

"What?" I said. I was familiar with many languages but this one was not familiar to me. I was interested to know what language he was speaking.

"Excuse me sir, but what is that you say?" I asked.

"Wha t'fuk you eat ashole," he spat out. "Hary up, I gat milon tings to do."

"Oh, He's speaking English...shit," I thought.

I glanced at the menu and ordered the first three main courses I saw. The waiter grumbled and wandered off. He came back in two minutes with all three plates. I looked over the food before me. It all looked delicious and well dead. It even smelled good. I tried a spoonful of 'chicken fried rice' and it was fabulous. I scarfed up the plate at breakneck speed and finished it in a few minutes.

The second plate was called, 'foo yung hai' and it was even better than the first. The best thing about this place was that they used a lot of grease, a big plus for a jumper.

The last plate consisted of mashed potatoes, overcooked peas and a breaded deep-fat fried piece of cow. I thought that the people of this world must have very refined tastes to eat this well.

I finished with a block of a blue shimmering thing. It didn't look much like food but I gave it a try. It was cool and slippery going down, the perfect ending to a perfect meal.

The waiter came up to the table just as I was putting my spoon down after my last bite of blue slippery stuff. He put a cup of dark steaming liquid in front of me and scooped up all of the used dishes in one smooth motion.

I sat stock-still starring at the cup of dark liquid in front of me. I could smell the thick rich aroma as it made its way up to my nose. I slowly reached my slightly trembling hands around the hot cup. I religiously brought the cup up to my mouth and took a long noisy sip. It was the real stuff. I just couldn't believe that I was drinking one of the rarest, most coveted drinks in the multiverse. I hadn't seen coffee since I left my home world. I reverently finished the whole cup. I put it down and breathed a huge sigh of contentment, leaned back and belched. Boy sometimes life was good. I figured that the bill was going to be enormous because of the quality of the food and of course, the coffee, but I didn't care. You got nothing for nothing in the multiverse.

The waiter waddled back and dropped the bill in front of me, then folded his hands in front of his crotch and waited. I picked up the bill and looked at it. It was for two dollars and ninety-five cents. I knew the relative value of this amount and it wasn't much.

"I'm sorry but I think something is wrong with the bill," I said, thinking that the bill should have been higher, much higher.

"Wha you say? I cheet you. Tat not lite plice," he said with venom.

"No I meant that it is too lo..." I started.

He was not listening to me. He turned and barked something over his shoulder in Cantonese, which I spoke a little of. He was telling the cook and dishwasher to grab some big knives and get the fuck out here. I had only seconds to act. Running from one of the most relentless woman in creation had taught me to think quickly on my feet. I formulated a fast plan.

"Look it's not too much. Here I'll leave you a hundred, keep the change." I offered, and put a hundred dollar bill on the table.

The waiter starred at the C-note lying there. There was a flash of movement that was too fast for me to follow. I looked and the money was gone, and the waiter was standing there just like before but with a most agreeable smile on his face.

"An you need mor samting, you ask me OK," he said in a most solicitous manner.

Just then, the cook and dishwasher came rushing out of the kitchen. Both were swinging large chopping cleavers. I jumped up onto the corner of my seat ready to defend myself. I didn't need to jump from this world to get out of this one; I figured I could take these two in my sleep. The cook was an old skinny guy and the dishwasher was a sixteen year old girl, but there was no fight. The waiter raised his right hand and both stopped just behind him. The waiter then explained to them that it had all been a big mistake and that this kindly man had left a 5-dollar tip for the cook and even the dishwasher got two dollars, so there was no reason to chop him up.

I was standing on my seat in a cat stance with the three restaurant personnel looking at me with big 'sorry about that' grins on their faces. I relaxed and got down. We said mutual thanks, and I left.

The downtown area of this city was run down and decrepit. All the hotels smelled even before I entered them and I passed quite a few. I decided that I had to sleep somewhere that did not stink like old men and their old piss.

I wandered around and found myself in the warehouse district. Everything was closed up for the day. The streets smelled of rotting vegetable litter. The night was coming and it was getting downright chilly. It suddenly started to rain in big drops. I ran for the nearest shelter I could find, which was under an overpass. I shook the water off my coat as I got under shelter. It was turning into a wet and gloomy evening.

I ambled over to where hundreds of pallets were stacked on one side of the overpass. These would be some protection from the weather. I thought of the stacks of pallets behind the office and the broken lawn chair I used to lay on. Life was so simple then, but that was eons ago.

As I approached, a man came out from among the pallets. He looked like a local but something was wrong. I immediately suspected a trap and prepared to call the light people, but before I could, he spoke, "You are a jumper aren't you?" he asked me.

"How could you possibly know that?" I returned queried.

"Because I am a jumper too and you have the look." He laughed as if it was some inside joke among jumpers.

"Look," I echoed. I must have been the only jumper not in on it.

"Come on," he said, "you look as tired as a twenty wheel truck."

I followed him and we made our way through a maze of pallets. We ended up in a small room made up of tall stacks of pallets all around. Two other guys were sitting on pallets when we came up and they hurriedly stood. I could see fear in their eyes.

"Its OK boys...amigo," the jumper said to them, indicating me with a movement of his head. They immediately settled down. "We were just sitting down for a meal, would you care to join us?" the jumper invited. I had eaten just a little while ago, but I figured that I could eat a bit more.

"Thanks," I said.

I introduced myself to the two men. "Hi," I said.

They spoke only Spanish the jumper told me. So I switched to Spanish, which I speak fluently.

"Hola chavos Como estan sus huevos," I said in a cheap movie Mexican accent.

What I was trying to say was 'Hello guys, how's it hanging', but what I actually said in bad Spanish was 'Hello guys, how are your eggs (balls).' I guess it didn't translate well and to be honest, I speak only basic Spanish.

They said that their balls were fine and they were still in possession of them, so everything was OK but thanks for asking. They spoke Spanish with a distinctive accent. Not like Spaniards, these were Mayans and Spanish was their second language.

After these simple introductions, we got down to eat. My host opened a canvas bag and took out a feast. He opened four cans of spa-pig-ettos and four cans of Scam. He passed the food around to everybody.

Spa-pig-ettos are spaghetti triangles, in a cheese sauce with soft pig parts in it. Scam is minced spiced camel meat. Both these foods were delicious and rich in calories because they were mostly made of the fat of their respective animals.

During our dinner, I found out that the two Mexicans were illegal aliens, just like I was and that they had been in this country for three days. They had traveled for two weeks across Mexico and had suffered hunger, cold nights, burning desert days and abuse at the hands of the coyotes. Coyotes were the scum that smuggled people across political boundaries.

The two Mexicans traveled in conditions that would have made a parrot commit suicide. The coyotes caused much suffering but they were just a symptom. The true problem was that the Mexicans were poor and needed to eat and stuff. They had also committed the sin of wanting and bearing children whom they felt obligated to feed. Their only salvation was that their poor country was adjacent to the richest country on this planet. In that rich country even the poor people had cars, TVs, nice clothes and so much food that they were getting diseases because of the vast quantities they ate. They knew they had it good and didn't want the worlds garbage trying to weasel in on their action.

The two had arrived in this country with only the clothes they wore, literally. They were small and thin. Their faces were oval and they had broad mouths. High cheekbones and slightly slanted eyes made them look like some exotic aliens I once met. I thought they were like children dressed up as adults.

"Why did you guys go through all that, didn't you know that those coyotes are bad guys?" I asked.

The jumper translated for me.

"Si señor pero no dinero, no comida, niños hambres..." (yes mister but no money, no food, hungry children...) One of them answered in Spanish, his voice full of desperation. He must have been desperate to have left his family and everything he was familiar with. With those few words, he had said it all. Then the two guys said they were tired, tucked their hands under their armpits, leaned back and started to snore quietly. In 15 seconds, they were asleep.

"They are dead tired. They have been here for three days working in this pulp mill," my host pointed over his shoulder. "They work 12 hours a day and get 10 dollars for it."

"Shit," I declared, knowing the relative value of the dollar.

"Yeah it is slave labor, but it's all they can get this close to the border. Next week they get transported up north where they can get construction jobs, the money is better."

Then the jumper pulled out a big rolled cigarette and lit it up. "Mexican cluster fuck," he said indicating the plump joint and smiled through perfect teeth.

He took three puffs, inhaling each one in turn, without exhaling. Then he passed it to me. I took it from him. I had smoked all kinds of stuff from many worlds but as I took my first puff, the taste reminded me of something from my distant past. I took another deep drag trying to suck out the memory that was just at the edge of my perception.

I had a sudden insight. Could I have found my home world again? What were the odds? I thought about the implications of being 'home', I took another hit then a fourth and the truth came to me. Home had never been a whole world to me, it had been a street and an apartment, it had been the road I went to work on, the supermarket I shopped at. None of those things had any meaning to me anymore. So what was my world now? Was my world ever more than what my eyes could see or my ears could hear? I couldn't imagine going back to my old life, so what was left for me. I took several more drags on the joint.

'We all live in the multiverse and are always in the multiverse' came a thought. I remembered that I had heard that from someone else before. I searched my feelings and found that I had felt like an alien in my own world many times. I had relied on the rather pathetic and limited opinions of those around me to define who I was. Once, I used to call those creatures my friends.

My life was no longer ordinary and I could not have ordinary expectations or plans. I was becoming a seasoned traveler on the highways of fourth dimensional space, a true citizen of the multiverse.

I understood that I had to carry this idea of being a multiversal creature around with me. I was a jumper, someone learning to be more than a third dimensional creature, someone able to peek into the fourth dimension. I took a few more drags on the bomber and passed it back to the jumper. He took it casually, probably already stoned too. He hit the joint several times very hard then passed it back.

"You running or searching?" he asked.

"I'm running," I answered, "and you."

"I was running, but my pursuer died a few years ago. So now I just travel the multiverse for other reasons."

"What other reason is there to travel the multiverse. The risk is too great, if I didn't have to, I'd stay home," I said with conviction.

"What would you do, get an apartment and a job?" he asked.

I laughed to myself. That was exactly what Buddy had asked.

"No, I guess not. I haven't had time to think about it much," I replied, "but I've got this bitch still on my ass, so..."

"If she stopped, would you go back then? You know there are ways to choose a world, a specific world, you could find your home world again," he said casually.

I perked up my ears. This jumper knew how to choose a specific world. He noticed my obvious interest and smiled. It seemed that my insight of a moment ago about being a citizen of the multiverse, like the curling smoke, had vanished somewhere in the darkness above my head. I had a strong wave of nostalgia go through me. It felt it like a soft furry thing against my stomach. I wanted something cozy to snuggle up to. I shook my head to dispel the feeling because it was too yucky.

"Home can be many things," he said. "It is not the place you were accidentally born into, or a house that you happen to live in."

I contemplated these deep thoughts through the veil of the Mexican Clusterfuck we were smoking. I understood what he was saying. Home was a feeling, not a place. It was like family. Family wasn't just the people you happen to be born to. Good friends were family too in all of your feelings and actions. Blood relatives that treated you badly were not only not family but they were your active enemies. I came out of my deep meditation and became aware of where I was again.

The jumper was handing me a folded scrap of paper. I took it and opened it. It had two words written on it, 'Western Highlands'. I looked up at the jumper to ask what this meant but just as I picked up my head to ask, he rolled over onto his side. His body was stiff as a board for a second, and still in a sitting position, he was rolled over, then his arms and legs relaxed and he fell into a deep snoring sleep. I didn't know what to make of this riddle. I examined the paper and it seemed normal to me but I was stoned like an adulteress in 30 A.D. Palestine, so my judgment had little value. I put the scrap in my pocket and rolled over myself.

I wondered as I was passing out how the two Mexicans could sleep in this weather without coats. I had a three-quarter length sheepskin coat on and long johns under my pants. I pulled up my collar against the night. I thought about how very hard their lives must have been for them to have come so far, to a strange and hostile land. I didn't have it so bad.

"Poor fucks", I thought. Then I had a completely unconnected thought. It occurred to me, as I was passing out, that my long johns were long overdue for a wash.

I didn't know at the time but the jumper had given me a 'tracer pill', that was the scrap of paper I had just put into my pocket. This was what he was talking about when he said that a jumper could choose a world. After you activated the tracer, it was drawn immediately to the world it was taken from as soon as you entered the netherworld.

At that moment, I didn't know any of this. I was so stupid about so many things now that I look back, but I guess that's all part of the learning process, or I am just slow.

I awoke suddenly. One of the Mexicans was gently shaking me. He bent close to my ear and whispered, "Migracion," then slunk off into the forest of pallets. I sat up; still groggy from the weed I had smoked. I figured that I hadn't been sleeping long because I was still pretty high. I saw flashlight beams dancing between the stacks of pallets. Shit, I was as illegal as the Mexicans were and going to jail was not my idea of a fun Saturday night.

I spied one of the officers between two stacks of pallets. I wasn't in that much danger because I could outrun them in a footrace. I also knew that although they were armed, immigration officials in most worlds didn't shoot as much as regular cops. I figured that the odds were in my favor. I always had the option of calling the dark door but I didn't want to waste the calories unless I had to.

I crawled out of the little room made of pallets and blended into the shadows. I stopped to get my bearings and heard one of the two Mexicans on the other side of a stack of pallets trying to convince the immigration officers that they were both Americans. They were caught but at least they would not be shot, or yelled at like in some primitive countries. This country did not even fine them. The two would be fed and sent back to Mexico. It was the craziest illegal alien policy in the multiverse.

I wished them luck silently and continued to move away from the noise. The voices got fainter and fainter. I got on all fours and bear crawled the last meters. I looked behind but I could not see or hear anything. I felt it was safe to stand up. I stood, turned and ran right into the biggest woman highway patrol person you could imagine. I bounced of her muscular body and fell flat on my butt. I looked up at this giant of a woman and I felt just a twinge of fear. Not because she was a cop but because she was too much like another female I knew.

She reached down and grabbed me by the collar of my coat. She pulled my whole body up smoothly, until my face was right up to her face.

"Where do you think you're going honey," she cooed.

I stammered and blubbered out some shit that didn't make any sense at all. She put me down and said, "I need to see some ID."

She patted me down with her nightstick. She thumped both of my outer thighs, pushed my coat open and generally felt me up in a highly practiced and professional way. Obviously, she was seeing if I was armed. I wasn't, but I was getting turned on by her touching me so impersonally with her night stick. I thought it was weird that I was getting turned on when I should have been afraid.

I opened my coat to give her better access and her hand went to her gun. I raised one finger to indicate to her to wait a moment; that I was just trying to help. Actually, I was stalling because I had no ID. With each passing second, I was getting closer to going to jail. I finally decided that I was out of options. I had no choice but to call the light people.

"Hey, light guys, why don't you join the party," I said.

The cop thought I was talking to her and said, "Don't be a smart ass."

She didn't really know what I had meant but anything I might say would have come off as a stall or smart-assness.

The lights appeared behind the cop chick. Her face got confused as she watched the play of reflected light on my face. She turned and the sight of the light people made her fall on her ass and her mouth to pop open. I walked around her; she seemed to be in a state of shock. I was sure that she would need therapy after this experience but I found out later that just about everybody in this part of this world went to therapy anyway.

I took a deep breath and thanked the lights for their prompt arrival. They all danced around wildly. I asked if they might get me out of here and they said in unison, "Oh yes, we love doing things for well mannered friends."

The black slit appeared then opened like a sideways mouth. I turned for one last look at the highway patrol chick. She would be traumatized for life. Well that couldn't be helped. I turned and jumped.

I was in the netherworld only for an instant when a world jerked me in. I hadn't selected one and I didn't understand what was happening at the time. Of course, it was the tracer pill and I had just been jerked into the pill's home world.

### Chapter 9

### Prophet in the Highlands

It was a sunny day. The breeze was gentle and cool. I was standing high up on the slope of a mountain. Far below, I could see a large magnificent lake. Mountains and volcanoes surrounded us, creating a bowl. I was standing above a caldron lake, created by some massive eruption in this world's past. It had blown off the top of the volcano and what was left was the old magma chamber that had filled with water and eventually became this lake, I had seen others like it before. The volcanoes around me seemed to have been inactive for a long time. It was very still and quiet.

I inhaled the thin mountain air. It was cool and sweet. The lake below had several villages around it. One large village was at the base of the mountain I was on. I could see many thin white trails of boats plying the waters, going from village to village.

The view was great but I was starting to get hungry. I made my way down the mountain and soon discovered a footpath. I followed it in the direction of the large village I had seen from above. The footpath ambled down, then turned and meandered. I pushed trough some tall coffee bushes and the footpath abruptly ended and I found myself on a wide dirt road that ran parallel to the shoreline of the lake.

The road ambled around a small bay to the village. Across the bay, I could see some women washing clothes in the shallows of the lake. Their children were splashing and laughing near by. Many fields of Maize and other crops quilted the lower slopes of the volcano. Because of the tilted angle of the land, the fields were narrow small terraces climbing the hilly land like stairways to heaven. A few had men working in them.

I heard a vehicle approaching. There was a long dust cloud coming down the dirt road. It was a mini pick-up packed to capacity with local riders. Several young men were even standing on the rear bumper. A metal frame had been built on the side and back like a cattle truck, so that the people wouldn't fall off and had something to hang on to. Most of the passengers seem to have been women and they were all dressed alike in long thick skirts and bright multi-colored blouses.

I stopped to watch the pick-up zooming up to me on its way to the village. The driver slowed down and gave me a look and a hand signal that consisted of a palm turned up and a quick twist of the wrist. He was asking if I wanted to ride, but I wanted to walk.

I waved him off. He accelerated and continued on his journey in a huge cloud of orange dust. It was a splendid morning. It was very quiet with only an occasional tweet of a bird breaking the stillness. I soon turned off the road onto a small path that led down towards the lake. I walked through many cornfields and small plots of vegetables.

As I came around a hill, an incredible vista opened up. The corn was only about a meter high so I could see across the whole 15 kilometers of the lake. It was a magnificent sight. Afternoon winds had come up, pulling up whitecaps on the wave tops.

The wind whipped up the wake of a passing boat. It jumped and splashed like a wild bronco. It seemed that the pilot sitting at the back cared not for the discomfort to his passengers. They were all bent over, huddled together and getting drenched. The pilot had his own priorities and a schedule to keep. They came close to the shore and passed only a dozen meters from me. The boat zipped by and I continued through the corn.

The path turned uphill, away from the lake and I ended up in front of a restaurant. When the fates were kind, they were the sisters of mercy. It had a name, The Tikaaj and I could smell the most delicious smells coming from an open window on the floor above. I didn't care how much gold it took but I was determined to eat whatever it was that they were cooking. I followed the scent past a small gate then up a half flight of stairs. It turned right, then up another half flight. The door was open at the top and I went in.

The restaurant was empty. The tables were made of wood and seemed to be homemade. The chairs were also hand-made and came in a variety of styles. There was a big hammock strung up in the back of the place. It was a homey place and it smelled like someone's mom was cooking. I went up to the kitchen door and I saw two guys talking and smoking at the kitchen table. They were speaking in Italian.

I shouted from the door, "Ciao bellos." One of them turned and looked at me, then he took another drag off his cigarette.

"Can I get something to eat?" I asked in English. I had already exhausted half of my Italian vocabulary.

"Sure," he said in accented English.

Without warning, the other guy suddenly became unconscious. He dropped his head onto the kitchen table with a 'thunk' and then rolled onto the floor. His friend and I helped to get him into the dinning area and propped him up in a chair, against the wall. There was a slight bump where he hit the table but otherwise he was fine. I sat down next to him at the table. The conscious guy's name was Julio and he and the unconscious guy were both Italians that had emigrated here to start this restaurant.

He asked me what I wanted to eat, but he didn't actually say anything. I mean he said no words. What he did was that he raised an eyebrow and made a motion with his pen towards me while holding a small pad of paper. It was so weird that I understood him. Not in some subtle body language kind of way, but I almost heard the words. I had never encountered this kind of communication before. I figured that it was an Italian thing. I picked up the hand written cardboard menu and asked, "What's good."

He rolled his eyes slightly and hunched his shoulders, turning his palms outward a bit. I 'heard' the gesture say, "I'm the cook asshole, it's all good."

I quickly ordered the first three main courses and an orange soda. He took the order and went back to the kitchen. Ordering the first three main courses was already standard practice for me. It saved time and I had learned that a cook is good or he isn't, it doesn't matter what you order from him.

I looked at my dinning companion. He was snoring quietly, leaning against a stack of plastic beer crates. I looked around the place. The restaurant had large windows that went around three of the walls. I could see across the lake to several other villages. The afternoon wind seemed to be getting stronger and the waves were a meter high, blowing mist off their whitecaps with each wave. The part of the village around us consisted mostly of cornfields and farmland, the main village was a kilometer up the hill. Just outside was the main cobble stone road that led up to it. Very few local people lived near the lake because that was considered farmland. It was very quiet and idyllic, I understood why Julio and his friend had emigrated. I could smell the water on the wind trough an open window. It had been a long time since I had taken the time to notice how lovely some of these worlds were.

Julio brought the orange soda. I took a drink and the cold sweet flavor felt good going down my throat. I drank half the bottle then let out a big bullfrog belch. I pulled out a cigar I had kept for a long time. It was still fresh and fragrant as the cedar tube I had kept it in had its own micro-computerized humidifier and temperature control.

The double corona had been hand rolled in Sumatra by my old wrinkled cigar roller. I thought of her, as I guillotine off the tip of my cigar with the built-in cutter at the end of the cigar tube. She had rolled many excellent cigars for me. This was the last cigar I had brought from those islands. I had not had a chance to smoke it before now.

I struck two wooden matches and held it below the end of the cigar to light it. I was careful not to touch the flame to the cigar but to hold it just below it. I took a few slow drags while rolling the cigar in order to get an even light. When the cigar was lit, I shook out the matches and took a long slow deep drag. I wetted the end and rolled it around in my mouth, then took another slow deep drag off the cigar. To enjoy a cigar, you need three things. First, you need a good cigar, then a match or two. Then you need a quiet place to smoke it.

My food came. The first dish was spaghetti arribabiarta, which was spaghetti in garlic tossed in olive oil with hot peppers. It was delicious. It amazed me how the flavors could be tasted separately and together as one flavor. I finished it in a few minutes and licked the plate.

The next dish was gnocchi, quarto formage. Gnocchi was made of potato and flour. They are formed into little footballs and smothered in four different cheeses. I barely chewed the little balls and practically drank it down like a thick soup. I licked off the last of the creamy sauce from my plate. Then I polished off the rest of my orange soda. I belched, farted and re-lit my cigar.

Julio came over with a deluxe pizza called a putanesca. This was a cheese pizza with olives and capers. I put the cigar down and ordered another orange soda. I tore off a piece of the pizza and chomped down on it. It too was delicious. All of the food had the same ingredients, with only one or two variations, but the flavors were very different and I could not get enough.

As I was eating, a group of four people came in, two guys and two girls. The guys went to the kitchen door to order and the girls went to a table just next to mine and sat down. One of the girls was dark and had black hair and black eyes. The other was tall and had brown hair and blue eyes.

They seemed hung over. I knew that look well. The boys came to the table carrying a beer each for themselves and a moment later Julio brought coffee to each of the girls, Coffee!

I signaled to Julio who was rushing back to the kitchen, for a coffee. He brought one to my table. He told me that it was local stuff and it had been grown, picked, roasted, ground and bought right here in this little village, it was their main cash crop.

Julio sat down at the table and pulled out a big joint. He lit it up and told me that the village was populated by the descendents of the Maya. These one-time adversaries of Alvarado, Cortez's brother-in-law, were now farmers and coffee growers. Some back packers came from the main tourist town across the lake and there was a small tourist industry. Not much, just four or five restaurants and a few small family owned hotels.

He passed the joint to me. I leaned back and gave my oily mouth a good wipe with my sleeve. I took a long drag. It was thick and harsh, but it was good. I took another hit and passed it back. He took a quick hit, gave the joint back to me and got up to take the order of the four at the next table.

I was thinking that I really liked this place. I could stay here for a while. I needed the rest, just to have my body be still. I had visions of lying in a hammock and doing nothing for weeks and months.

I got up and went over to the hammock, "I could start now," I thought. I straddled it like a French toilet, and then squatted down into it. It was strung quite low so that my butt was only 15 centimeters off the floor when I finally stretched down into it.

I rocked back and forth gently and felt the heaviness of my meal and my life pulling me into sleep. I could hear the wind blowing through the open windows. It blew cool wisps across my face. Everything seemed so peaceful. I felt that I was a figure in a painting, lying in this hammock, doing nothing for eternity.

My eyelids got heavy suddenly, like someone was standing on them. I struggled against falling asleep but quickly stopped fighting the tiredness and let my eyes close. I slept deep and hard. I had a weird dream about Buddy.

In the dream I was walking down a city street that I was not familiar with, wondering what had happened to him after I escaped from the sex-slave planet, when he came around a corner and said, "There you are, I have been looking for you."

I was surprised to see him. He smiled at me and I thought that that was strange because he should have been angry as hell with me for having used him so shamelessly, plus the fact that smiling was not natural for Buddy. He put his hand on my shoulder and said, "How have you been lover, I sure missed you."

I was afraid that this was going to turn into a sexual dream, because some part of me still remembered that I was asleep in a hammock in a restaurant. I did not want to get a hard-on in public.

"You left before I could tell you, but Prophet is looking for you. Don't leave until he finds you, OK, honey," he said in a sweet voice, then gave me a big wet French kiss that lasted for what seemed like an hour. He let me go and I gasped for air and suddenly woke up with a jerk, in the hammock.

The restaurant was full. People were crowded all around me eating food, drinking beer and smoking joints and cigarettes. I felt claustrophobic. I have never liked crowds anyway but for a fugitive like me, crowds were too dangerous. I looked around but no one was paying any attention to me. I had been lulled into letting my guard down before and I felt like running just as a precaution.

I was scanning the room, when I noticed an old woman sitting right behind my head. She was squatting on the floor next to me, almost touching me. She was dressed in local clothing. A basket of fruit sat next to her on the ground. She was shamelessly starring at a large erection I had woken up with. She reached across me and grabbed my dick through my pants. I moved my hips away but she got a good grip and held on to it. She seemed to be very strong. I think she wanted to see if it was real dick or a fold in the pants material. Well it was real. I let out a yelp and slapped her hand away.

The fruit woman's reaction was to laugh hysterically through gold-capped teeth. She playfully reached for my boner again but I wasn't watching her. I was looking at a petite brown-haired girl dressed in only a large scarf. The scarf did not cover very much, barely her breast and coming down t her crotch. I had a vision of the girl running in the surf getting water splashed on her and her scarf getting wetter and wetter... I abruptly came out of my fantasy as the old woman grabbed my cock again and really gave it a good pinch. I screamed as she dug her nails in and she howled in laughter again. A few of the patrons that were watching chuckled a bit then went back to their own business.

"Get the fuck out of here!" I said and pushed her.

She was remarkably strong and did not budge. I used her as leverage and stood up. I was still dreamy and took a second to get my head clear. I walked across the crowded restaurant to the kitchen door.

I was almost there when a voice called me, "Jumper, come sit down with me."

I looked around for the owner of the voice. Nobody was looking at me. One table had a lone man sitting there. He was drinking from a liter bottle of local beer. He had long white hair in a headband. A handlebar moustache completed the biker look. He looked up and waved for me to come. I went over and sat down.

"Welcome, I have been waiting for you," he said in a deep voice.

"For me, who are you?" I asked.

"I am Prophet," he explained simply and took a long drink from the big bottle of beer.

"I have heard of you. You are the Prophet, what do you want?" I wondered.

"I am not 'the' Prophet. My name is Greg Prophet. I get a lot of that. Last week I met one guy that wanted me to tell him his future. I told him that he would be getting his ass kicked in three seconds unless he ran very fast." Greg let out a laugh that sounded like a bark.

"I want to talk, we have a common enemy," he said, and then turned up the liter of beer that was half-full and gulped it until it was gone. He slammed the bottle down and howled like a coyote.

"What are you talking about? Who are you? What..." I was starting to panic. I wasn't even all awake yet. He looked at me and smiled. He ordered three cups of coffee then said, "I'm just a bit drunk that's all, calm the fuck down. But we do have some real shit to talk about." He sat there shaking his head up and down as if he had a nervous twitch.

"What enemy do you mean?" I said, more calmly but I already knew what the answer was going to be.

"Yep, you guessed it. She is the one and only greatest super bitch in the whole multiverse," he whispered to me.

"You know her," I asked.

"Of course I know her. Everybody knows her. Well at least knows of her," he answered.

"Wow, I didn't know she was that famous."

"Famous? She's fucking notorious. What the fuck is wrong with you. Are you sure that you are the jumper? Shit, maybe you are not the right one. OK, look, just forget what I said. You know I've been drinking a lot lately. I like to jump a lot, that's why I called you a jumper..."

This was the worst excuse for an excuse I had ever heard. I told him, "Look I am a jumper and..." I remembered my dream, "I am the guy you're waiting for, and shit, you are one bad liar!"

Julio brought the three coffees.

"Are we waiting for someone?" I asked, noticing the third coffee.

"No dumbshit, they are all for you. I need you awake and alert. What kind of dipshit warrior are you anyway."

"Warrior?" I echoed.

"That is what I was told to expect, the greatest warrior-jumper ever," he said with a bit of pride, "and I am supposed to show him around."

I suspected he was expecting someone else or he was just insane. I stayed because he was entertaining, and besides, there were three cups of coffee in front of me.

"Warrior-jumper," I laughed aloud. "What the fuck are you talking about?" I re-lit my Sumatran double corona and gulped down the first cup of coffee. It went down hot, bitter and delicious.

"Jumpers aren't exactly warrior material," I commented.

"You are right; they are a bunch of assholes. That's why I was so surprised when they told me that a warrior-jumper was going to out-jump at this lake," he said and lifted his hand to Julio as he walked by for another liter of beer. "So you see how surprised I was to see a dipshit like you."

"Dipshit...what the fuck...who told you...what?" I said.

"The light people of course, who else would fucking know about this shit."

He pulled out a blue plastic pack of tobacco and rolled a cigarette. Then he took out a clear plastic baggie and rolled a big joint. He lit up both together in his mouth and after taking three hits on both the cigarette and the joint at the same time, he passed the joint to me. His beer came and he gulped down a third of it as if he was dieing of thirst. He slammed the bottle down and a small volcano of foam erupted out of the bottle, overflowed a bit then settled down. I hit the joint a few times and passed it back to him, but he refused it, "Go ahead, I only need a few hits after ten liters of beer."

He continued our conversation, "I don't think that the light people would play a joke, but you never know about the lights...," he said. His voice trailed off as something else had caught his attention.

He was watching a young girl come into the restaurant. She was short and chunky. Her hair was short and she was wore shorts that were too short over her hefty butt. She came over to our table and asked if one of our empty chairs was free. I shrugged my shoulders in response. She moved the chair to the table next to us and took a seat just a meter from Prophet. She pulled out a small needlework from a shoulder bag and busied herself.

I looked at Prophet's face and from his expression, it seemed that he was displeased with something. I sensed that he had felt slighted by the girl's actions. He leaned over towards the girl as if not to be overheard, "Wouldn't you like to sit with us over here... with us?" he asked politely and redundantly.

"No thank-you," she answered shyly without looking up.

"Is it my body odor that has offended you?" he asked again politely.

I hadn't notice a smell. His hair was long but it was well groomed and his handlebar mustache was neat and trimmed. I realized that his B.O. was irrelevant, all this was some kind of ploy. The girl noticeably blushed at his bluntness but said nothing.

He bend closer, almost touching her and said, "I bet you are sitting at that table because you like the Swedish boy," indicating the tall good-looking guy sitting among the six others at the same table.

She turned to the prophet, smiled and turned red, acknowledging that he was right, but still said nothing. He put his arm over her shoulder like an older brother and motioned for the girl to come even closer to him with his head.

"He is not going to want to fuck you with an ass as big as yours," he told her as if he was telling her a secret. "I'd loose a few pounds first because he is not going to put his dick in between those chubby thighs. Your ass and fat legs will just make him laugh."

I saw his whole maneuver, he was just entertaining himself at the girls expense. He liked to see them squirm. All this was just theatrics and he was good too. The girl was insulted and shocked by his unexpected change of direction. Prophet understood humans very well. It was this keen understanding that made him such a good bully. He had selected his victim, knew her vulnerable points and he went strait for the throat.

The girl broke out in wails and sobs. She dropped her needlework and ran out of the restaurant. The whole restaurant stopped and turned toward the girl. Prophet casually turned back to me and started to continue our conversation, "Now where were we...?" he said.

"Why did you do that?" I interrupted. I was more than a bit angry at the way he had insulted that girl, and then acted as if nothing had happened.

"What!" he exclaimed in surprise. "What the fuck did I do?" he said, pretending to be innocent.

"Why did you make that girl cry?" I demanded.

"Is she a friend of yours or something?" he asked.

"No," I answered.

"Then what the fuck is it to you how I get a few laughs, huh? You think being Greg Prophet is easy. I got pressures you know. So I get a chuckle at some fat assed chicks expense, so fucking what, am I evil then. What are you comparing me to, mother fucking Theresa?"

Actually, he had several valid points that I could not refute, and I didn't really give a rats ass about the girl. What bugged me was that he acted as if nothing had happened. He didn't even get a "chuckle" out of it. It seemed that he did it just to hurt the girl.

"So that's what's bothering you," he said when I explained myself to him.

"Shit, I used to laugh so hard that I'd fall off my chair and fart uncontrollably all over the place. I even shit in my pants a couple of times. Nowadays I just laugh inside. It takes too much energy to laugh aloud. I guess I just stopped one day." He was melancholy and seemed far away in thought.

"Yep, I specialized in insulting them in front of their boyfriends," he continued with growing pride. "Do you know what a delicate line I had to walk to put those fat butted girls down and not get beat up by their boyfriends, it's an art form."

He was like an old fucker recalling his young stud days when he fucked all night long but now had a only a softy and could only rub against the woman while pathetically whining about how hard it used to get. He snapped out of this perverse reminiscing. He looked around and came closer to me. "There are spies everywhere," he whispered.

I was already bored of his theatrics and wanted him to get on with it. I had finished the third cup of coffee and had run out of reasons to keep sitting in front of this obnoxious person, whether he was a lackey for the light people or not.

"Tell me what the light people wanted you to tell me," I said trying to get him to the point.

"Not tell you sonny, show you." He smiled and got up. I got up after him and we went to the kitchen. He paid both our bills and said 'chow' all around the restaurant. Nobody responded. He staggered out of the door and ambled down the stairs to the dirt street below.

We walked together down the road that meandered parallel to the lakes shore. The walk was very pleasant. It was a splendid day. The weather was cool and sunny, a tropical spring day in the mountains.

"The weather is great all the time. It rains during the wet season, but only for a few hours every day. But that too is quite beautiful," Prophet explained.

We turned down a smaller path that led down toward the lake. The trail went by a cinder block house. It was very small, just one room. We both stopped in front of it.

"This young Indian couple just finished building it," Prophet explained. "It took over five years to build. Each year they built a little bit, depending on what they can afford. When they have more money, they build another section. There are other houses that have taken decades to get built in this village, or started by the father and completed by the son or even the grandson."

A man came out and waved to us, he seemed to know Prophet. We walked up to the man and Prophet greeted him in bad Spanish.

"Hey Pedro, buenos rotton crotchos to your mamacita," he said, as we walked up to the house.

Pedro smiled and said, "Gracias senor, esta mejor." (Thank-you sir, she is better.)

I didn't understand what Prophet had tried to say, but he explained later to me that Pedro's mother had crabs in her pubic hair and he had loaned Pedro money to get medicine to kill the crabs that were driving his mother and everyone else in the family crazy every night. They had isolated her in a curtained off area so that she would not spread the crabs. This seemed to work for a while but her screaming and scratching all night drove everyone crazy. Eventually the crabs spread to everybody in the family. Everyone in the house had to cover their whole bodies with poisoned lotion from the pharmacy. Even their stinky little dog had to be covered in the stuff.

The prophet was just asking how Pedro's wife's crabs were. Pedro smiled as we walked away, waving until we couldn't see him anymore.

"I guess he's grateful," I commented with a snicker.

"Yeah, his mom got the crabs pretty bad. She's a slut, you know," he told me.

I didn't know what kind of a response he wanted for a statement like that, so I said nothing. We continued down the path toward the lake until we came to another path that crossed us. We turned left and were again walking parallel to the lake only this time we were much closer to it. Waist-high cornfields surrounded us, their coarse leaves rustled like gossiping old ladies as they gently rubbed each other in the cool breeze.

We stopped in front of a small shack. The lower half was made of cinder blocks but the upper half was made of dabble and mud. This kind of construction was the ultimate sign of poverty and a source of great shame for its owner and his whole family Prophet told me.

Prophet knocked on the door that was made of 'lepa', which was the first cut when they sawed trees into boards. Lepa had a flat side and a curved side with bark still on it. It was very cheap and never used to build a house. The locals used it for fencing or animal pens.

The door opened and an ancient little man gestured for us to come in. Prophet turned to me and silently indicated that I should follow him inside. We followed the little man in. I closed the door behind us and I felt that I had been transported to another place and time. Dried herbs hung from the open rafters of the low roof and I smelled pungent woodsy incense that clung to the dark walls like demons lurking in the shadows. Although the shack was small, it felt like a large deep cavern inside. I sat down with them on a long bench that ran the length of one wall. A sunken bed was the only other furniture in the house against the opposite wall.

Prophet was speaking his bad Spanish again but somehow he seemed to be communicating with the old man. I looked through the dim light trying to see the old man's face but I could not make out any features. He was bent over and I saw only a shadow.

A deep rumbling voice came out of that shadow and I felt the mystery and wonder of the things he spoke of. I did not understand what the words were but that was not important. I understood the meaning of his words. I wasn't afraid but I was awed and spellbound by the surreal atmosphere in the little shack.

Prophet turned to me and said, "He wants to make you a gift."

"Why would he want to do that," I asked suspiciously. "What does he want in return?"

"That is exactly what I want," he said in rumbling words that I could not identify, "for you to return."

Prophet smiled so broadly that I could see his teeth through his overgrown handlebar moustache. I noticed his perfect white teeth as a shaft of light came through a crack in the wall and practically lit them up. I thought that a flash bulb had gone off. The visit ended there. We got up and left quite abruptly. Outside, we said our good-byes to the frail old man. I tried to see his face but even in the light, he was too stooped over for me to see anything.

"Don't forget to bring me the gift I have asked for," he said very politely in English and slammed the door.

"What gift?" I asked Prophet.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "He'll forget about it in a few minutes. He's crazy you know and his mother is a slut."

We continued on the trail we were on earlier and followed it to Prophets small house. We went in through a low gate into a small garden overflowing with pink bougainvilleas. He pulled out a chair for me at a table on the porch.

"I'll make coffee," he said and went inside.

He came back out in a minute and sat next to me on the porch. "Be ready in a sec," he said. He had brought out a wooden box. He opened it and it contained on large flower-top. It was bright green with silver crystals all over it. He rolled a big joint up, lit it and passed it to me. I took it and took a long drag.

"What do you think?" he asked.

I didn't know what he was asking about but it had all been good so I said, "good."

I looked at him and his look said that he expected more from me. I didn't know what he was fishing for, I was a more direct kind of guy.

He got up and went inside. He came back out with two large cups of dark sweet coffee. He gave me a cup and returned to his chair. I sipped the strong bittersweet liquid and looked out over the incredible panorama. Prophets house was built on a slope that faced the lake. We did not speak, we sipped coffee and looked at the water and the many volcanoes that surrounded us.

The lake sat in a bowl. I felt secure there, as if those tall volcanic slopes could keep the world out. The sky looked so blue. I thought at that moment that I would never see a blue as beautiful as the sky was on that day. There was not a cloud to mar the perfect polished turquoise sheet. A breeze came off the lake, a cool dry mountain wind that would well refresh a sweating brow.

I sipped my coffee, hit the joint and passed it. The day seemed timeless, as if time had little meaning here, as if time had lost its function and value. I turned to Prophet and he was looking at me with that mischievous smile. I understood his look this time.

"Yes it is a good place to rest, but I cannot yet. I still have something pending, and until that issue is resolved, I cannot rest," I told him.

"Do what you have to do, my job was to show you around. The light guys thought that you might like it here."

I got up and put down my cup. "Thanks for everything. Maybe when this is all over I will come back," I said and walked out into his garden. I went to a shady spot that smelled of earth and moisture. I turned, waved to Prophet who was still sitting on the porch and called the light people. I knew that the circumstances were not right for me to stay but this had been the first world that I had not wanted to leave. If the fates were kind, perhaps I could return one day. I took one last look at the emerald lake and inhaled the cool dry air of the mountains then I jumped into the netherworld.

### Chapter 10

### The Trap in the Menu

I out-jumped into one of my favorite kinds of worlds, a hot dry desert. I liked the heat and the arid land. It felt natural and clean. I liked the cold nights and the lonely howls of the coyotes. I liked the black diamond dusted sky and the paint brushed Milky Way across that sky. Not a lot happened around here, but that was actually one of it's greatest appeals. As a bonus, this area was littered with many cheap and greasy restaurants.

I was in a town called Silver Skid Mark. It sat on one side of the interstate and as you approached, it did indeed look like a skid-mark. There had been silver here once but that ran out hundreds of years ago. The town survived on a few tourists and people that got lost trying to find the highway north.

I was sitting down to breakfast at a restaurant called Benny's. I had just ordered the 'Four You' special from the 'You're a real man' menu. I casually read over the menu thinking that maybe I might have some 'manly' dessert afterwards, when something caught my eye. It was the picture of the number 2 special bacon cheeseburger. It seemed that there was a hidden message in the photo.

I started to read what at first seemed to be texture on the burger, "The management is not responsible for any claims made by the management and furthermore..."

It was a disclaimer and that immediately put my body on guard. I had heard that disclaimers were a common cover for traps. Traps were like beacons through the multiverse. They could be used for many things, including finding a jumper that was stupid enough to pick one up.

I didn't know at the time just how stupid I was. I should have been running like I had a rocket up my ass but instead like a jerk, I kept reading, "...we deny any part of the production of the menu and even the responsibility for writing this disclaimer..."

"This was it," I thought. "Disclaiming the disclaimer was a sure sign, wasn't it?"

I wanted to eat first but got ready to jump anyway. I had been getting careless again. I might have to pay dearly for this mistake. Like a dumbshit that got too close to a black hole, I waited to be crushed into oblivion.

I picked my head up over the menu and looked around for any crackling of inter-dimensional energies and Sheila jumping out with some kind of slicing tool and attacking my crotch. I held my breath and waited for death, but the moment passed and nothing of the sort happened. All that happened was that my food arrived and I was to have another big greasy meal in peace. I put the experience down to general paranoia and gave my attention over to my food. Food will make a hungry man loose all of his caution, I have found out more than once.

I looked down at the huge oval plate as I reached for the fork and spoon. This was my favorite breakfast in this world, The 'Four You' special; four eggs, four sausages, four strips of bacon, four pancakes, four pieces of toast and a quadruple order of hash browns smothered in four slices of cheese.

This meal would make most creatures puke, just from the smell of it first thing in the morning but I had become accustomed to the food here and could eat it as proficiently as the natives could.

It was quite good if you forgot about what the food was made of. The first three items were various animal parts. The pancakes and hash browns were oily starch discs, and the toast was a grass seed that had been genetically mutated. Then it was ground up and baked with leavening then soaked in oil.

It all tasted remarkably good covered with flavored corn syrup and the national sauce of this world, catsup. The national sauce had been a favorite for almost 200 years. The natives put it on everything. It tasted pretty good and it did cover up the dead taste of the food very well.

I splashed a big glob of catsup on my hash browns and on my eggs then poured syrup on my pancakes and sausages. I cut everything up and tossed it just a bit, like a salad, and then I ate with both hands, like a machine.

In three minutes, I had finished my breakfast and was soaking up the last of the syrup, catsup and egg yolk with my white margarined toast. I then sat back and sipped my coffee contently. This world not only served coffee but also brought a pot of it to your table. You could keep asking for more and they would bring you endless pots of coffee. Some worlds lived in such luxury and didn't even know it.

Everything seemed very normal and idyllic. There were a few cars out in the street but it was already late morning and too hot for pedestrians to be walking around. I was cool and comfortable because in this world all the buildings were air-conditioned. You would agree that air-conditioning was the most marvelous invention ever, if you have ever lived in a hot humid place. It was so peaceful, cool and quietly pleasant that I could have stayed that way forever, sitting in that booth, sipping coffee.

I dozed in my seat. The meal and the lazy sunny day outside had conspired to lull me into a kind of half sleep. I realized suddenly that that was exactly what was happening, I was being lulled. It was the meal, the sunny day, the emptiness of the streets and the cool dry air of the central climate control system. Jeez I was such a dummy, it had been a trap all along. I had been set up like 300 chessboards.

My mind suddenly became crammed with information. Different thoughts collided in my head vying for attention. The thought that kept reoccurring though was 'to get the fuck out of there', but true to character, I ignored my instincts. Anyway, I knew that whatever I did now was not going to help me because the trap had already been sprung, I was already caught and it was too late. Only a miracle would help me now, but strangely I was less afraid then I had ever been before. It was because I had been caught and had gotten away once from Sheila. It gave me a bravado that was stupid and dangerous. At least I did not panic and just charge out of there like an idiot. Looking back on the incident, I believe that charging out instantly, like an insane banshee, would have been the most prudent thing to have done.

I looked around as I slunk into the seat of the booth. I pulled up the collar of my coat as if that might have protected me a bit. I needed to keep alert and not let my fear take over. I scanned all around me to see where the attack was going to come from.

The inside of the restaurant was very quiet, but that meant nothing. The nightmare could start with the most minor thing. I scanned and probed, but everything seemed normal. I let out the deep breath that I had been holding. I felt a bit better, seeing that nothing had happened and that I was still alive.

Just as I relaxed a bit, the worst sound I never wanted to hear in the multiverse started to crackle from the back of the restaurant. These pre-energies came before the light people appeared. Jumpers became sensitive to these energies over time but most creatures didn't notice anything unusual.

The menu had been a locator, it had been a trap all along and Sheila knew exactly where I was at that very moment. I had only seconds before Sheila would be jumping into this world. However, for a seasoned jumper like me, a few seconds was a lot of time.

I flew out of my seat and made a dash for the door behind me. I was still short a few calories so I grabbed a vanilla milkshake from the adjacent table and drank it in one gulp just as I leapt out of the booth. I was hoping to have desert before I left but now I had to improvise. I threw away the glass, grabbed a hamburger from the table on the other side of the isle and shoved the whole thing into my mouth. I had only taken two steps toward the door and only one second had passed since I had left my table. I looked over my shoulder and the hairs on my neck rose in fear. Sheila was already in the restaurant looking around for me. I knew that she would be able to catch me before I made it to the door.

Then a miracle happened, a fat woman was fast stepping it towards the dessert bar. She was so focused on dessert that she ran right into Sheila. It was a very bad mistake, and her last one.

Sheila instantly went into a rage and grabbed the woman by her face. She picked her up and tossed the 250 pounds of flabby person off to one side like yesterdays garbage.

Sheila turned her head and our eyes met. The look she gave me should have killed me with the venom of it's hatred, when a second miracle happened. Faster than you can say, the proud, the few, the eager to fight, five big ugly marines that were spending a quiet day off eating a lot of food, got up from their tables and jumped Sheila. They did this because they felt they had to avenge the fat woman's honor for some reason. Those boys saved my ass, but they were in for a big surprise. Five marines would only be an appetizer for Sheila.

I was almost at the door of the restaurant. The marines would buy me a few more seconds. I passed by the register and grabbed a whole pie from the 'pie of the week' special display and gulped it down in three chews, it was chocolate cream, mmmm. I already had a big handful of after dinner mints that I had gotten off the counter in the other hand, which followed the pie into my mouth. I could feel my body's calories building up to maximum.

I was going to make it. I dove for the door and was finally out of the restaurant. In four bounds, I was clear of the parking lot and into the desert that surrounded everything around there.

As I ran, I heard the chaos Sheila was causing behind me. She had probably been expecting to be torturing me about now. She really needed to work on that temper of hers. The crashing sounds of furniture and the cracking sounds of would be hero's bones got fainter and fainter.

I called the light people and they came all happy and joyous. They brought the dark door and I jumped from that world.

I was in the netherworld trying to decide which world I wanted to jump to. As I watched the worlds, I noticed that something was different this time. Instead of seeing the worlds like three-dimensional pages of a book, flying by me, I 'saw' all of the worlds at the same time. When seen like that, nothing seemed to move. Everything was everywhere at the same time. I could even see time as a physical feature of things since eternity was before me, so nothing proceeded and nothing retreated, and yet I also saw things as I always had. The light people had said that my perceptions would adapt to fourth dimensional space, just by being exposed to it. I knew that that was what was happening.

I saw a few good worlds I thought might be all right when, I saw Sheila in a world. Shit, she was jumping out of that world. I wondered if she could find me in the netherworld. I had never seen a fellow jumper in the netherworld, but I did not know all of the laws of fourth dimensional space. Perhaps unlike 3-D space, each jumper was alone no matter how many jumpers were in the netherworld at the same time. The thought that stuck with me though was that Sheila knew a lot more about the multiverse than I did and I wasn't going to take any chances where she was involved. I panicked and reached out my hand without really looking. At the last instant, I got a quick look, and it looked like hell!

### Chapter 11

### From the frying pan into the anus of Satan

As I out-jumped into that world, I realized that looks weren't always deceiving. I was really in hell. A heat came from everywhere. Smoke and ash floated in waves and wisps like fairy corpses gliding by. The stink of sulfur stung my nose. The worst part was that an oppressive sadness seemed to hang in the very air. It was palatable and wanted to get into me. I fought it and it 'ran away'. I thought it was pretty weird.

I had heard of hell before from Sheila. She did not like it. She had told me, because it was too hot and smelly. That's what she told me at first. She later admitted that the real reason was that she had sold her soul in order to learn some of the secrets of the multiverse from the many demons that lived there. Everything was fine until a group of demons discovered that she had sold each of them her soul. Of course, Sheila had not intended to pay any of them, so for her to sell her soul once or a dozen times was of no consequence. She even owed Satan.

There was a fierce battle between all of them. They battled all over hell for several days from which Sheila barely escaped with her life. That left a bad taste in her mouth for demons in general and demons from hell in particular.

It was then that a brilliant idea came to me. Perhaps ending up in this God forsaken place had been a blessing in disguise. I bet you a dollar to a bag of doughnuts that those demons still wanted to collect her soul. Demons never forgot any wrong done to them.

I walked along a road that steamed and rumbled from the forces below it. Some kind of flying thing buzzed above my head from time to time. It squeaked like a bat but I couldn't tell what it was. It seemed to be only a shadow.

I had no idea where I was going but that was nothing new and I had long gotten used to not pretending to be in control of everything. I had learned to let things alone and to let things take their course. Things seemed to work out. Hey, I was still alive right. I hadn't walked far when I found a restaurant. It was a non-descript building that stood by itself and for no apparent reason I just knew it was a restaurant.

I walked up to the door and wondered what a restaurant in hell was like. As I got closer I saw a sign that was smoldering and smoking, it read 'FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE!' This was not the most inviting sign I had ever seen but then it was not the worst. This was probably what passed for a welcome in this place.

I walked in and the inside didn't look bad. Except for one smoldering corner of the floor, the stinking smoke and the mild smell of brimstone, it looked like a normal restaurant. There was a bar on the opposite wall from the door and a dozen rickety old card tables and chairs scattered along the walls. The middle of the floor was bare. The thought crossed my mind that they held dances here. I laughed aloud as I walked up to the bar. Demons at a square dance struck me as funny. The images of ugly creatures dressed up in frilly lacy dresses popped into my head. That made me laugh even harder. I took a stool still laughing. A bigheaded ugly demon came up to me from behind the bar.

"What the fuck you laughing at, you think my head is big?" the monster growled down at me.

"No," I answered and stopped laughing.

"Maybe you are laughing at my funny nose?"

"Oh no, you have a great nose," I said trying to diffuse a sudden volatile situation. The demons mood changed quickly.

"You think my nose is pretty?" his voice almost sang.

"Oh yes," I said and started to order. "I would like to order..."

"Hey fuck head, we talk about my nose or I fuck you up, OK," the bartender interrupted.

I sized the demon bartender up. He stood maybe three meters tall, about two meters wide and weighed 300 or 400 kilos, so the conversation turned back to his nose.

His nose was quite a disgusting work of art, even for a demon. It looked like a cross between a banana and an octopus. I understood why he was self-conscious about it. As I looked at the enormous mutated snooter he possessed, I couldn't help thinking how comical his face looked. Big droopy eyes, puffy lips that would put Mick's to shame, and that snout. It was a nose for the demon record books. This guy was a walking joke. No wonder he was so insecure about his looks.

I started to say something but I just couldn't hold it in any longer and I burst out laughing. I tried to talk again but only laughter came out. Something in me gave up all restraint and in spite of the imminent death I would be causing myself, I exploded into spit-flinging, wet-farting laughter. I fell off my stool holding my stomach in pain from the depths of ridiculousness that was that demons face.

He blew up in a rage and started to bellow in deep monstrous growls. I knew I was in big trouble but every time I tried to stop laughing, I broke out into even louder peals of laughter. I was going to die in the hands of this creature, but fuck I was going down laughing.

As the demon was dismantling the bar rather violently to get to me, I had an insightful moment. My attitude toward many things had changed over the years and across the many worlds I had been to. I thought about how I viewed death, specifically my own death. I had become intimate with my ultimate demise; I had come close more than once. I was now at the point that I was quite indifferent to my own death. I just assumed that it was a matter of time before Sheila caught up with me and killed me.

My situation with mister ugly butthead, although very serious and life threatening, did not change my enjoyment of the moment. Sure, it could have been my last, but every moment could have been my last. In some strange way, Sheila had done me a big favor. This realization made me laugh even harder and I rolled back and forth on the floor trying to gain a little control.

I finally got my laughter down to bubbly chuckling. I sat up still sore from laughing so hard. I tried to stand up but I needn't have bothered, assistance was just a second away.

The demon picked me up with one hand by grabbing my face. In one motion, he threw me across the room. As I was flying through the air, it struck me as odd that there were no other people here. This was no way to treat your only customer. That struck me as funny too. Boy what a day that was, I hadn't laughed so much in years.

I crashed into the far wall and lay still among twisted card tables and chairs. I was in great pain but my recent realization still stuck with me and through the pain, I let out a long and fearsome laugh. The demon was walking toward me to finish me off, but my laughter stopped it in mid-step. Its stupid brain was trying to digest what was happening. I should have been cowering in mortal fear by now and my reaction was not something he expected.

For a moment, I thought that I might have just saved my life, but the demon was too stupid to understand much and in two seconds, he had returned to his original mission of tearing me to pieces. He was grunting and drooling as demons often do, as he stood over me. He gave me a fierce look trying to intimidate me but it only made me laugh harder. As a final act of defiance, since I was dead meat anyway, I managed to flip the big dope the bird and said, "Fuck-you very much."

That did it. The demon roared, stood to his full height and raised his arms high to gather momentum and bring his huge hands down upon my skull. I spat at him, it was mostly blood and he stopped in mid-motion, and I thought, "That was easy."

He grunted and turned to look behind him. I could not see because of ugly ass's big body but there was someone behind him talking to him. It had not been my pathetic last act of defiance after all that had stopped him.

I heard yelling from an unidentified voice. The monster lowered his head and slunk off back behind the bar that he had just destroyed. I wondered just what power could have made that demon back off from killing me. It must have been a fearsome and terrible force to scare such a demon as he. As the demon moved out of the way, I saw what it was that had such power; it was Doris, the waitress!

She reached down and helped me up. I could stand so I thought that I wasn't in that bad a shape. Nothing seemed to be broken, except maybe one foot. I was real sore and needed food and rest but I was going to be all right.

She helped me limp to a table. I sat there trying to catch my breath but I couldn't. My breathing was getting slower and I was having trouble holding my head steady. I knew at that instant that I was not going to be all right, that something was very wrong with me. What was wrong was that I was dieing. I had suffered internal injuries that I was not going to recover from.

"Want a drink," she said. "Looks like you could use one."

I looked up at her suspiciously. I remembered the last time I had ordered a drink from this waitress. She looked at me with what seemed like real concern on her face.

"Is this another joke?" I managed to croak out and spat out blood.

"OK, I deserved that but you are in pain and were this close to getting your head smashed in." She showed me how close by the tiny gap between her thumb and index finger. "Fun is fun but death is a bit serious don't you think?"

I would have never imagined this side of Doris. She went to the bar that was now a pile of firewood and barked out an order. The demon bartender grumbled under his breath and made gestures as if he was chocking someone. Doris yelled at him and swatted him with her dishrag. He grumbled again and poured her what she had ordered. She came back and put the drink in front of me.

She patted me on the head like a child and said, "We'll get back to the jokes after you have recovered a bit, OK?"

"Yeah, sure thanks," I whispered and blood gurgled out of the corner of my mouth. I looked down at my drink. I knew that I was very close to the end. I wondered once what the last thing I would see before I died would be. Now I knew it was going to be this drink. One last drink before I go. I picked it up slowly and brought it to my mouth and gulped it in a weak swallow. It burned going down and settled in my guts as a warm heavy weight. I felt better immediately. "Wow, what the fuck was that?" I thought.

I really felt good. I was so amazed at my speedy recovery that I stood up to walk around. I could walk with no problem when just a moment ago I was limping to the table. My broken foot seemed to be healed.

"What was that stuff Doris," I boomed out. "I got to get some more of that"

"Settle down cowboy, you can't get any more"

I sat down, "Why not?"

She leaned close to me, she smelled like hell and I still didn't completely trust her so I backed away, though mostly from the smell.

"Because asshole, you get one drink. That should be enough for anybody."

"But what was that, it was great."

"Yeah it should be great, that was Satan's private reserve," she said almost in a whisper, afraid that someone might hear. "I would forget about ever drinking it again, if he hears that you drank some of his private reserve, you will wish you had never existed."

"Shit, why did you give it to me then?" I complained.

"You were almost dead, moron. There was nothing else that would have saved your life, and as you can see we need the customers," she said and shrugged her shoulders. "You want to eat something?"

Well that was why I came into this shithole in the first place. I really had an appetite after almost dieing. It always made me hungry.

"Is there a menu?" I asked.

"Sure!" she replied, and my table burst into flames.

The flames settled down and I found that a menu had been burned into the table. It was a neat trick but the 'menu' had singed my eyebrows and the hair on my forehead. I wasn't burnt badly and I was amused at the novel menu presentation so I didn't say anything. I looked down at the choices.

"Let's see," I said, "I'll have the stupid sinner steak and the perverted bishop bake, and to drink I'll have the bleeding heart special." Doris trotted off to the kitchen.

I wondered where the other customers were. I turned to the bartender and asked, "Hey homeboy, where is everybody?"

The demon stopped wiping the glass in his hand and turned to look at me. His look held so much hate and violence that I thought of making a run for it, but he didn't attack me. It seemed that Doris was the boss here and he was not going to disobey her.

So I asked again, this time with more bravado, "Hey ugly nose, where are the customers? You deaf boy. Is your head in a dark place that smells of demon shit, get your head out!"

I was really enjoying myself, I could say whatever I wanted to the big lug and he couldn't do a thing to me. The hulking demon stood behind the pile of timber that used to be the bar, with a look that would have killed an ordinary mortal but I was special, I was protected by the power of Doris.

I said, "Where are all of your stinking friends huh? Why don't they come on in and ugly up the place with you? You all can have a big ugly nose contest, I already know who I am voting for!"

I fell off my chair at my terrific wit. I laughed and laughed. I hadn't had so much fun since, well I couldn't remember. I got myself under control and regained my seat.

I looked at the demon and saw smoke coming out of his ears. Boy, was he mad. His whole body vibrated in impotent rage. His was fighting back such a great desire to rip me apart that I stopped in mid-chuckle. I could feel his anger like a heat on my face and in spite of the power Doris had over this demon, I knew that he could still loose control if I pushed too far.

"Sorry," I apologized, "just kidding."

I stopped laughing and turned away from the bar. Shit, I was really stupid sometimes. I wondered about myself at that moment. What was wrong with me? I had almost died at this demons hands just a few minutes ago, now I was taunting him again. I had to settle down because making fun of demons was dumb even though I needed the laugh. I didn't have long to ponder these things because it was time to eat.

My food arrived in the traditional oval plate with a dome cover. Doris smiled sweetly to me and squinted up her nose, trying to be cute. It wasn't cute, it was gross. She left after giving me a hug. I started to lift the dome then remembered another meal that had been covered with a dome. I picked up my knife just in case.

I lifted the dome and revealed the food. It was somebody's head. They had chopped someone's head off, cooked it and put it on a plate. This was stupid sinner steak! I wanted food not the stupid sinner's head. I called Doris over. She came waddling to the table, giggling. I figured that we were back to our old relationship and this was another practical joke.

"This is what I ordered?" I asked indignantly.

"You said it sucker," she replied.

"How am I supposed to eat this, it's somebody's head?"

Doris very patiently explained as if talking to a grey-mass-in-the-cranium-challenged dumbshit, "Well you carve the meat off in slices then you eat it, see"

She kept a frozen phony smile on her face when she had finished explaining. In spite of her recent help, I still wanted to smack her in those smart-ass lips, but I restrained myself or I would have lost her protection and laughing boy behind me would have ripped my head off and barfed down my neck. Therefore, I took her advice and started to carve. Doris lost interest and left.

I sliced a thin piece of a cheek and put it in my mouth. It wasn't bad, it tasted a lot like pork. I cut another piece off the forehead and ate it. I soon forgot what the food was and started to enjoy myself. I cut an ear off and found it to be too chewy for my tastes. I spit it out after sucking out the juices. I was cutting thin slices of neck when suddenly my dinner's eyes opened.

Well smack me with King Kong's dick if I didn't jump a meter into the air. Then as I stood there in surprise, still holding my knife and fork, my meal let out a heart-wrenching scream. It howled and whimpered. It sobbed, slobbered, and was getting spittle all over my meal. I sat back down, pissed off that my dinner was ruining my dinner.

"Fucking stop it!" I demanded of the crying head.

Then through its sobs it said, "What are you complaining about I am the one that's suffering. You are eating me remember!"

I had never had my food give me backtalk before. I was thinking of how I could make this asshole shut-up so that I could get on with my meal, when Doris returned.

"How is it?" she asked sarcastically.

"Shit Doris, take it away. I'll wait for my second course. It's not the head of a bishop is it?" I asked.

"No," she said casually. The head was still complaining as she picked up the plate so she put the dome back over it. Finally, it was quiet and I didn't have to hear that cry-baby anymore.

"Before he died, this jerk complained all the time," she said referring to my recent din-din. "That's why he's here, for complaining."

"Shit," I thought, "Complaining is a sin that gets you sent to hell. Boy the living had a few surprises coming to them when they died. She went off and came back with my second course.

"The perverted bishops bake sir," she said in a posh English accent. She placed the domed plate in front of me. Then she turned quickly and double-timed it back to the kitchen. I swore that she was hiding that malicious smile she wore when she was going to give me the whammy.

I cautiously tipped the dome over to look under it. A rich aroma came out from the darkness inside. I flipped the dome off and the food didn't appear to be anything gross. It was some kind of breaded meat. I had eaten chicken fried steak once and it was great. This resembled that and smelled like it too. Maybe this was the bishop's recipe for breaded chicken.

A long piece of meat had been sliced, breaded, fried then rearranged back into its original long shape, nicely arranged on a bed of romaine lettuce with a radish floret. It was a light colored meat as I found out when I cut a piece. It looked like chicken. I tried it and it was delicious. I didn't expect it to be that good, what a big surprise that was.

The meat was accompanied by a creamy white sauce that the meat was supposed to be dipped in. I found it to be the perfect accompaniment to the meat. It was rich and creamy with just a hint of horseradish.

I was half-way through my meal when a skinny old man came over to my table carrying a small plate with two meatballs on it. He put them on my table.

"I didn't order that," I said without looking up. "Where's Doris, she knows what I ordered."

"These come with the meal," he said in a monotone and took a seat opposite me.

I shrugged my shoulders and automatically speared one of the meatballs and popped it into my mouth. It had the consistency of overcooked liver and tasted like an old guys gym locker. All in all, it wasn't bad.

What was weird was that the waiter sat down across from me and followed my every move. When I speared the meatball, he let out a loud groan and grabbed his crotch. I didn't mind him sitting there but I wished he would quit looking at me and grabbing his crotch, because that was just rude.

I continued to eat. I took another large piece of the 'breaded chicken' and dipped it in the sauce. The waiter followed the fork from the plate to the dip, then up to my mouth. He groaned again and kept starring at my mouth as I was chewing.

Well I had had enough. "What the fuck are you looking at. What do you want, a fucking date...piss off!" I yelled at him.

His expression did not change. He lifted his drooping head and looked right into my eyes. I saw great pain and suffering, but I didn't think much of it because for one thing, I am not a sympathetic guy when my dinner is being interrupted and, secondly this was hell after all.

"Who the fuck are you anyway. Why are you sitting at my table?"

"Oh, I have to sit here," he said, his voice wailing in despair.

"Get your own table asshole. Why do you have to sit here?"

"It's part of my punishment. Whenever someone orders the perverted bishop bake I have to watch them eat the meal."

"That's punishment?" I said and wondered if maybe Satan wasn't getting soft.

"Yes," he continued, "it is punishment of the worst kind. You see you are eating the parts of the bishop that had sinned on the earth."

I thought about this for a second and then the horrible truth dawned on me and I almost puked.

"That's right, I am the perverted bishop and those are my dick and balls that you are eating. Satan will re-grow new ones on me later only to cut them off and cook them up when the next order comes in, and that's for eternity."

I put down my utensils and pushed myself back from the table. Not only hadn't Satan lost his merciless humor but I had to applaud his creativity.

This new information of course put an end to my appetite for perverted bishops bake. I was getting full anyway. I looked around for Doris, where in hell was my drink. I had to wash the taste of bishop dick and balls out of my mouth.

The bishop cleared my plates off and shuffled back to the kitchen looking down at the plates while sobbing softly and shaking his head from side to side. He kept mumbling, "I'm so sorry guys, so, so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

As the bishop entered the kitchen, a perky brunette came bouncing up to my table and stood next to me with a questioning smile on her face. I noticed that she had great tits and an ass that would have been welcome anywhere.

"What now?" I asked, "Do your worst. It's got to get better from here."

I expected anything, but she just asked, "With or without vodka?"

I didn't normally drink as alcohol is a toxic substance and detrimental to life, but in small doses, the poisonous side effects can be quite fun.

I said, "Yeah sure, vodka sounds good."

She pulled out a small bottle from a pocket in her apron and putting the bottle close to me, opened it with a cracking sound. The sound was the metal seal being broken as to show that this bottle had not been open previously and diluted with water. In spite of everything, this seemed to be a classy place. She produced a big glass mug and dribbled the entire bottle into it. This was going to be a good finish to my meal.

She then pulled out of her apron what looked like a long metal stirring stick. It was spiked on one end and hollow. I figured it was used as a straw too.

"So," she said, "one vodka bleeding heart special coming up."

Then she picked up the hollow metal spike and stuck it into the left side of her chest with a fierce yell. She pushed it in deeper and grunted like a wild pig. She kept moving the spike around inside her chest, as if she was searching for something. She was sobbing and groaning in agony. Occasional she would shriek when the metal hit a sensitive spot.

Suddenly a bright red stream gurgled out of the opened end of the tube. She groaned and grabbed the large mug from the table and caught the blood as it oozed out of her. It took a while for the thick fluid to fill the glass. She looked at me and smiled in spite of her own suffering.

"This is the punishment for being a liberal on the earth?" I asked, amazed at the severity of her punishment. The bishop I could understand, but this.

She told me through clenched teeth, "Satan hates liberals. The more bleeding hearts they are, the more he hates them."

"Whoa," I thought, "just for being a liberal, shit."

The multiverse was stranger than I could have ever imagined and Satan must be one cruel motherfucker! I had to get out of hell quick. This was not a good place to be even though I wasn't dead and Satan didn't know me. I decided right there that it would be better not to have any dealings with demons.

The bleeder finally filled the mug. Through gritted teeth, she pulled the spike out of her heart with a quick jerk. "Will there be anything else? You're not going to want a second drink are you?" she asked with fear in her eyes.

"No...bring me the bill," I said.

That made her perky smile return and she bopped off to the kitchen.

I picked up the mug and chug-a-lugged the drink. Let me tell you, the bleeding heart liberal drink was pretty good. It tasted like a meaty bloody Mary and it made me feel warm and fuzzy all over. I felt like I had done something great. There was no reason to feel that way but I didn't care. I then felt like going to brunch with my friends to celebrate all of the good things that we had done. I shook my head in disbelief. Why was I feeling these stupid feelings? It was the bleeding heart drink. I came out of my liberal moment and understood why Satan had such a harsh punishment reserved for them.

Doris arrived with the bill. She put it down in front of me and waited. I picked it up looking for a figure, some kind of amount in local currency or gold. There was nothing written on the bill.

I looked up at Doris and asked, "What is the amount?"

She gave me a disappointed look, "It's always the same here." I guess she expected me to know but that was my first time.

"I don't know... how about 10 grams of gold?" I offered.

"Gold, what the fuck do we need with gold? Haven't you noticed where you are? What a dumbshit," she barked and smacked me on the back of my head as if I was a child.

"Just tell me what the bill is so I can get going," I said, rubbing my head.

"OK butt-boy for the brainless stupid, I'll spell it out for you. We only accept souls as currency."

It took a second or two before it registered, "You want my soul to pay for what I ate?"

"Unless you have a spare soul in your pocket," she laughed and looked at the bartender for confirmation of her clever wit. He chuckled a bit, but his eyes stayed mad as hell.

"Come on Doris, you can't be serious. Let me pay you in gold, OK," I said and started to reach into a pocket for a ten-gram gold bar.

Doris turned to the bartender and said, "Another mooch Sandra, he's all yours."

That was exactly what the demon had been waiting for. He threw the glass he had been cleaning for the last five minutes and in two bounds, he was hovering over me. I suspected that my head was just seconds away from mutilation.

I jumped off to the side just as he reached for me. He missed me but turned quickly and swung his arm around to sucker punch me. His big chubby hand clipped my foot as I was trying to jump over his arm. It hit me with such force that what should have been a minor graze sent me flying across the room spinning like a Frisbee. I crashed into several previously undamaged card tables at the far side of the restaurant. I came to rest in a pile of bent metal and crunched human meat and bones.

I stayed there and waited, not because I wanted to but because none of my nerve endings seemed to be in working order. I suspected that my neck was broken. I wondered how my heart and lungs could still operate with my neck broken.

I waited there for the inevitable. I found it ironic that I was already in the place I was destined to go to anyway after I died. If I died here, I wondered if I would just stay or if there was a procedure that I had to go through first then come back here, dead. I was content though, death was going to be a quick and easy affair. The beast walked up to me and Doris stepped up beside him.

"You should have paid up son," she said. "You are going to hell anyway after Sandra here breaks all of your bones."

Now there were two things wrong with what she had just said. They had missed one and I had missed the other, neither of us had been paying attention. First, all of the bones in my body were already broken and second, how had I missed that the demon bartender's name was Sandra.

"Sandra," I cooed up at him through bleeding lips. "Your name is fucking Sandra!"

I managed to gurgle up a weak laugh, and blood splattered out of my nose and mouth like a fountain.

"Get it over with, Sandra, and Sandra, do it good OK, Sandra," I said, putting emphasis on his name each time I said it. Well if he wasn't mad enough, that sent him into temper tantrum hell and he completely lost control. He howled and growled unable to express the depths of his anger. Smoke and flames started to shoot out of his ears. He stomped around the room like a sumo wrestler trying to look fearsome. I settled down to relish my final seconds of life. I wanted to shout a loud farewell but could only manage a chuckle, as my strength was almost gone.

I could have jumped out of there earlier but I was too weak and near death to try anymore. I saw the light fading but I was not afraid because I knew what it was, it was just me dieing. 'Twice in one day' was my last thought in the fading light. Through a mist, I saw the big ugly demon come up to me and raise his right foot over my head. He was going to stomp my head flat. I wondered if I would finish dieing in the next second or two from my injuries or if Sandra would crush my head first. I waited in rapt curiosity for the final instant to come. Would I feel his foot crushing my head or would it all just fade away like a dream I once thought was real, perhaps to wake up in hell thinking that my life had all been just a long strange dream.

Then, in what I thought was a final pre-death hallucination, the gigantic demon was picked up like a day old puppy by what appeared to be a huge shadow. He was whisked away as if he weighed nothing. I saw him being tossed trough the roof of the restaurant to an incredible distance. He crashed into a mountain far away and there he died for a second time. Then Doris let out a howl like a kicked dog. She ran back to the kitchen howling and yelping all the way.

I saw all this as through a fog, a grey darkness was invading my vision from the edges. The world seemed to be at the end of a tunnel that was getting longer. As my sight was fading from that world, I saw a snowstorm coming. The snowflakes were of every conceivable color. Somehow, I knew that this was the blizzard that blew lives away. I felt the first flakes stinging my face and blowing my hair around. "This is it", I thought, "This wind is how souls are separated from bodies".

Suddenly I felt someone picking me up. The snowstorm had disappeared and someone was breathing on me. With each breath, I felt better and better, and POW! I woke up as if from a long deep sleep.

I found myself sitting at one of the rickety card tables across from someone I never expected to see, at least not while I was alive. Then I wondered if I was or was not alive.

"You are alive," his voice boomed. It was like the roar of a lion and left a ringing in my ears.

"Thank-you, you saved my life," I said.

"It wasn't so much that I like you as I hate that stupid bartender, Sandra. I had such high hopes for him but he has a bad attitude," he said. "Nobody kills without my permission."

He was a majestic creature and looked just as I imagined Satan to look like. His skin was red-brown and he had small horns on his head. He had a no nonsense air about him. He was quite big physically. Not hunky big, he was statuesque. He reeked of brimstone and raw power. His presence was so intense that it felt like an electric current in the air. This was not someone you wanted to piss off. I knew that I would have to be very careful around him.

"I have tangled with Sandra before and he almost had me," I said trying to keep the conversation going. I relished speaking to him. It was like being with someone you were in love with. It wasn't sexual, he was just hypnotic.

Satan looked at me casually, "Well you came out of that encounter better than when I found you a minute ago. You were near dead shit. I had to breathe life back into you."

"Thanks again for that Mr. Satan," I said. "Doris helped me the first time."

"Doris?" he asked with a confused look on his face, "she doesn't have any powers to give life. What did she do?"

I was really enjoying my conversation with Satan. I felt like I was in the middle of something important, that what I said and did mattered. Imagine, a nobody like me, talking to one of the greatest celebrities in the multiverse. I felt that I was in the company of princes and it made me feel like one. I stupidly lost my caution and nonchalantly said, "Oh, a shot of private reserve did the trick."

It got quiet all of a sudden. The conversation seemed to have ended. There was an awful feeling of dread in the air. I was looking down at the table and could not bring myself to lift up my head, not wanting to make eye contact with him. I could feel Satan's glare boring through the top of my head. I had fucked up real bad. I was so afraid of picking my head up and making eye contact that I even said a silent prayer. It was not to anyone in particular, just to anyone that might be listening. I waited for what seemed an eternity for something to happen.

"So you drank my private reserve did you?" he said finally.

His voice was very calm and controlled. I thought that it didn't sound that angry. I looked up and he was smiling at me, but his eyes were not. The expression was so scary that I had an instant bowl movement and every ounce of shit I possessed migrated into my underwear as a single unit.

He called out for Doris in a booming voice that shook the building. She came running out of the kitchen ready to be killed. She knew the score, in hell there were no second chances. You went to this place when all of your reprieves had run out.

She stood by his side with her eyes cast down, waiting for his terrible judgment. Her legs were shaking and I could hear small nervous farts. He stood up and seemed to reach the ceiling. He stared down at Doris until the tension got so great that Doris responded the same way I had, she crapped in her pants. She waited for her unimaginably horrible fate but he didn't do anything to her. Instead he reached across the table, and grabbed me by the neck without even looking at me. It happened so suddenly that I was chocking in his grip before I knew what had happened.

His fingers went all the way around my neck and he squeezed as he lifted me up. My chair came up with me because I was holding on to it for dear life. He shook me once and the chair fell to the floor with a clank. I couldn't even gag or gasp. I just hung there. I wished I had more shit in my bowls so I could shit in my drawers again. That seemed to be the appropriate thing to do at that moment, but even that small indulgence was denied me.

He walked to the middle of the room and held me up to his eye level. The pressure in my head was so great that I felt my eyes bugging out. I felt like my head was about to pop. Just when I thought I was going to pass out from the pain, he swished me around his body and stuck me feet first up his ass. He forced me in roughly and my body slowly disappeared into Satan's butt. Finally, only my head was sticking out. I took one last look around. "This could be the last time I ever saw anything." I thought. Then Satan shoved my head in.

I was accosted by the most horrible smells I could have imagined. Satan knew how to make a man suffer. So this was going to be my final demise, to die up Satan's ass. Even through my suffering, I thought it ironic that I had escaped death twice that day only to be killed on the third attempt and all this was happening in hell, the very place I would have ended up in anyway. It was irony being ironed. Satan was determined to make me suffer before he killed me though. The stench up his evil backside smelled like purgatory. I kept repeating a cycle of trying to breathe and trying not to drink the juices from his large intestine. I thought that artists from the middle ages must have had some kind of insight into the true torments of hell. I felt that I was in a surreal catholic painting.

At one point, my head emerged from Satan's asshole and I took a big breath of fresh air. I had developed an appreciation for pure simple air in the past hour. I got a glimpse of Doris sitting in a chair, in a pool of her own urine, watching my torment in horror. I noticed that she had a pretty lizard pin in her hair. It was so strange what details I noticed while I was being corn holed to death by Satan. Then it was back into his anus and more anal juice and desperately trying to breath. My head popped out again and it was time to use the only trump card I had.

I yelled out, I can find Sheila for you!"

I desperately hoped that Satan wanted Sheila more than he wanted to kill me, but instead of my ordeal ending, my head was shoved back up inside Satan's rectum again. Another hour went by. I was near death from exhaustion and just being in an ass. When I thought that I couldn't take any more, I was pulled out of his butt hole and dropped into a chair next to Doris.

I was trying to gather my wits when I realized that I had none. I was unable to move or think. I must have looked pathetic sitting there shivering, covered in Satan's butt mucus. Doris took a dirty greasy rag and wiped a big glob of satanic ass snot off my face. Then Doris very lovingly wiped the rest of the slime off me.

Satan was still standing in the middle of the floor. He did not disturb Doris while she was cleaning me up. When she had finished he looked at me and said, "Tell me about Sheila."

I started to explain with a shaky voice, "I was her sex-slave and escaped. Now she is chasing me across the multiverse to kill me. I could make it easy for her to find me. I would seek her out instead of trying to avoid her, see." I was talking faster. I knew that I would have only one slim chance to get out of this mess. "We could lure her into a trap and you can collect her soul."

"You escaped from Sheila?" he said with a smirk of amusement. "We have a deal."

He put his thumb on my forehead and I screamed in pain. Doris handed me a small mirror. I looked at my forehead and there was a star with the words 'Fuck You' written in it. It smoldered for a few seconds then faded away. He had burnt his mark on me.

"It is still there mortal," boomed Satan. "You just cannot see it. I will know where you are now and will send my minions for her when you are ready."

"Thank-you Mr. Satan sir...thank-you for not killing me and not leaving me up your ass," I cow towed.

He waved me off with a casual gesture of his hand. "Yeah, I am wonderful," he said without a trace of modesty. He would have been a laughable character if he hadn't been so powerful. Then his eyes became hard like stones. He hovered over me and looked right into my soul.

"Do not betray me shithead or being an anal implant will be paradise compared to what I have in mind," he growled and steam came off his body.

Somehow, I managed to crap in my underwear again. I did not know what to do next or what was going to happen next. I expected the worst, but he calmly turned around and walked out of the restaurant.

Doris let out a long and terrible smelling fart that she had been holding in fear. She kept farting and some of the farts started to sound wet and greasy. I was getting grossed out, this on top of having just been up Satan's butt.

"I'd love to stay and listen to you fart all day but I have got to go Doris," I said as I was getting up. She followed me with her eyes but said nothing.

"No hard feelings OK?" I offered.

She still did not say anything. She just starred at me and kept farting. Her anal gas sounds were getting wetter and sloppier and I knew that if for no other reason than that, I had to get the fuck out of there. I still had most of my calories from the food I had eaten and was in good shape to jump.

I called the light people and told them how glad I was to see them. I really meant it too. I asked to jump and they brought the dark door. I had never noticed before but it looked like a black vagina. I turned to take one last look at Doris. She was still in the same position, looking at me and shivering. She was letting loose such a volume of stinking ass gas that I held my breath and quickly jumped.

I was glad to be in the netherworld. I had always felt that this place was the only true safe place in the multiverse. However, I did not have a naturally high energy level like the light people and could only stay here a short time.

I watched the worlds flash by and wondered if I would ever find rest. Now I was indebted to Satan and had to find Sheila. I was playing a deadly game. I realized just how crazy I had been to promise Sheila to Satan. I would have to look for her instead of trying to avoid her as I had been doing. Boy did I put my dick into the meat grinder that time.

I had to out jump soon but at this point, I really didn't care where I ended up. I had just been to hell, eaten some of the most disgusting food in creation and had been a butt plug for Satan. It was all easy street from here, whatever happened. I reached out my hand and was jerked into a world.

### Chapter 12

### The Land of Big Dicked Men

I jumped into a world where evolution had done better than anyone could have imagined in defining the roles of men. All of the mature males had enormous dicks that were longer than their legs. The males were born with what I would call 'normal sized dicks', in other words they were little dicks. There was nothing remarkable about the men until they reached puberty. Than like a surreal magical manhood right, the lucky fuckers saw a steady growth of their man sausages until most grew to about 125% of their leg length.

The females of this society were very subservient and obedient to the males. The enormous members that all the men possessed were proof enough of which sex was superior. It was not possible for a mature male to fuck a female because of the size difference. When a male's dick started to grow, as he was entering puberty, there was maybe a two-month window that the females could have sex with the males without injuring themselves severely or killing them. The mature males did not work as their large middle legs interfered and instead spent all their time drinking, smoking, and talking about dicks in general and their own dicks in particular.

I was in a smoking bar called the 'Cuntless'. It was decorated like an over-furnished Victorian drawing room. Everybody was smoking big cigars and the place was thick with smoke. I was sitting at a table with a friend of mine, Wang-Dong.

He was all spiffed out for a Saturday night out. He wore his dick over his shoulder and tied it in place with a fashionable silk ribbon. Silk was all the rage at the time. Many of the men at other tables were also so attired. An older gentleman at the table next to us, had his penis on a more traditional 'dick stick', which was a low cushioned table, to rest his dick on. Originally, the dick stick was a stick you carried around and rested your big dick on when you were tired of carrying it. Eventually anything used to rest your dick on was called a dick stick even if it wasn't a stick.

I signaled for the waitress and a stunning tall slender light brunette came over to our table. In a silken voice she asked what we wanted. She radiated a soft femininity that verged on the surreal. She was so remarkable that I took a moment to notice her.

"I'll have a manly package special," I said, quickly glancing at the menu.

Wang-Dong had his nose buried in the menu, he ordered without looking up, "I'll have the Beef Pussy deluxe plate and a side of Dickless salad."

We both handed over our menus and she glided off to the kitchen leaving a trail of perfumed woman smells in her slender wake. I followed her with my eyes until she disappeared.

"That is some kind of lovely woman," I commented as she vanished into the kitchen.

"Who the cunt cares about a sloppy hole, let's talk about your problem instead," he said.

"My problem, I don't have a problem," I said, "except that I'm being chased though the multiverse by an insane bitch that wants to kill me and I made a deal with Satan that I doubt I will be able to make good on, but besides that I am trouble free." I laughed at my own sarcasm then let out a fart.

Wang-Dong had a quizzical look on his face. "What the cunt are you talking about? We haven't even started drinking yet and you are talking twat. Stop talking pussy and let's get down to business."

"Business?" I asked.

"Yep, I want to talk about your little dick problem. You are obviously not a boy, why do you have such a little penis? Did you get sick when you were a child?"

"No I didn't get sick. In my world my dick is normal," I answered, defending my dick.

He shook his head from side to side, "You poor fuck, I bet you couldn't even kill a goat with your dick, could you? Wow! What a cruel twist of fate to have to go through life with a wee-wee that's smaller than a clit."

He seemed to be insulting me but I knew that this was just part of their culture. Bragging about their big dicks was their prime pastime. It naturally followed that you would good naturedly put down your buddy's dick.

The waitress returned with our food. The honey of a woman gracefully placed everything down on the table. She sent sweet waves of air all around us with each gesture. She was like a dancer in her grace and confident mastery of her movements. She finished serving, looked at me and smiled. She was so sweet and so personal that I wanted to eat her panties off and screw her right there on the table. It had been a long time since I had felt desire for any woman.

Sheila had fucked and scared any sexual desire I had had right out of me, but this woman was so exceptional that I got butterflies in my stomach like when I was in high school. She oozed womanly sexual ooze. I got tongue-tied and she glided away laughing sweetly. She turned and blew me a sweetly scented kiss as she got to the kitchen.

Wang-dong stopped eating and looked up at me, "Hey, eat up, the food is great here..."

He noticed my disrupted mental and sexual state.

"What the vagina is wrong with you man. You attracted to that piece of waitress hole."

"She is very pretty?" I said, still dreamy

"Look, men in this world don't talk like that about 'no dick sluts'. You want to kill one, then go ahead. I did it once, it was fun," he said, then he caught himself, "Oh yeah, your dick couldn't kill anything. It probably can only fuck like a boy's," he snickered like a perverted teenager.

I wasn't offended. I understood that this was considered social intercourse in this world. Wang-Dong was actually quite witty and clever. I enjoyed his company without any judgments, and he, mine.

The conversation quieted down as we both focused on the food. I started on my Manly Package Special. It was a scrambled egg dish with diced testicles of bull, bastard and stallion, 'a real big cocked man's dish', the menu had insisted. It tasted pretty good. I especially enjoyed the stallion balls as they had been marinated in horse penis concentrate and soy sauce.

Wand-Dong's 'Beef pussy deluxe plate' and 'dickless salad' looked good too. The salad was a tossed salad, of radish, lettuce, cucumber and tomato. Then to make it the perfect tossed salad, the cook had tossed off into it. That is what gave all the vegetables that creamy mayonnaise look. He offered me a bite but I had to decline.

His main dish was a casserole made from a gigantic cow vagina stuffed with rice, olives and artichokes. When he uncovered the casserole dish, a cloud of steam brought the flavors out all over the table. Initially, I thought it smelled good but then I got an old sardine smell. That turned me off to the dish right away. Then I got a sweet pungent yeasty smell and that almost made me puke.

My friend sniffed at the aromas as if he was in love. Making sounds of approval and smacking his lips. He picked up a large carving knife and expertly cut the cow pussy down the middle. He lifted half of the vagina with all the olive and artichoke stuffing intact and transferred it to his dinner plate.

"The secret is to slice it exactly down the middle," he stated looking at the meat he had just put on his plate.

"See," he pointed out with the knife, "You have to slice it just where the lips meet, then you get exactly half a vagina and none of the stuffing falls out."

I was fascinated in some weird way. I could not judge him from my alien point of view. I was sure my ways seemed as arbitrary and silly to them. Wang-Dong resumed our conversation that we had interrupted in order to eat.

"So what are we going to do about you? You can't go around with a little dick."

"I am comfortable with it," I said defending myself.

"It's not a matter of comfortable old man, it just wouldn't be right," he said, and took a big bite of birth canal and stuffing.

What can anyone do about it?" I asked.

"Well I don't know about the barbaric place you came from but here we can help the cockless. We'll go down to the cocker after lunch and get you fixed up."

I didn't know what that all entailed but I didn't like the sound of it, "cocker?"

We finished our food and the waitress came to clear away our dishes. She brought a small silver tray with two beautiful cigars on it. Each cigar sat on its own little cedar holder. She cut each tip with a small guillotine cutter then rolled the cut ends in her lovely mouth to paste down the corner of the tobacco leaf. She handed each of us a cigar. Gracefully she poured a rich brown brandy into large snifters. She put one snifter between her large volleyball sized breasts and slowly rotated the glass to warm it. The vapors mixed with her smells and made my head spin. She put the glass down in front of Wang-Dong then put my glass up between her breasts.

The waitress finished by placing my drink in front of me. Then she quietly stood there as if waiting. I looked at Wang-Dong, he was sucking on his cigar unlit and took a deep drink of his brandy.

He looked up at me and said, "You want a light?"

I licked the cigar and it was rich and oily.

"Yeah sure, you got a lighter?" I asked.

"Lighter? You can't light a Cohiba Esplendido with a lighter," he said with authority.

He reached over to the silver tray and opened a small wooden drawer that was built into the side of the cedar cigar holder. He pulled out an oversized wooden match. The lighting end was red with a white tip at the very end. I had seen this kind of match before, it was a strike anywhere match. It had the sulfur and the phosphorous on the match so you could strike it on any rough surface, but I didn't see a striker.

My friend lifted his hand with the match in it to our beautiful waitress who had been standing there, waiting. On his signal, she lifted her short waitress skirt and tucked it into her belt, then she lifted her long left leg that belonged on a dancer and placed her foot on a small stool. She had recently shaved her pubic hair but stubble had re-grown. I suddenly understood what was going on and I had to agree that her rough stubble was an ideal striking surface for a match.

Wang-Dong dragged the match across her pubic area. It sparked and fizzled but did not light. It did make the waitress twitch, but she did not make any sounds. It took my friend five tries to get the match lit. He left five sulfur burn tracks across her vulval mound. I could smell burnt hair from some of the pubic hairs that had singed when the match finally lit.

He lit his cigar then lit mine. The waitress put her leg down and rearranged her skirt. She smiled sweetly to us and asked, "Will you be needing anything else?"

"No," my friend said slowly, "If we need something from a dickless stink hole like you we'll just follow the rotten anchovy smell to the kitchen." He then smirked as if he had just said something very clever.

She smiled and said, "Thank-you sir, I'll be back with your bill."

The men always spoke to the women in this way. Any man could say or do whatever he wanted to any woman, and that was fine. What was strange was that it seemed to be all right even with the women. I supposed they were raised that way and did not know any different.

We paid the bill and Wang-Dong asked if I wanted to go to a strip club for a nightcap. I thought why not. I was curious as to what a strip club would be like in a world like this, I couldn't imagine how weird it must be.

We walked to the lobby to get our coats. I watched my friend untie the silk ribbon and put a cock coat on his dick and a woolen hat on the large knob. He retied his large salami back across his shoulder and put on his own coat. I got my coat on and thought that Wang-Dong was a sight. He was all bundled up with this thirty-centimeter thick dick coming out of the front of his coat and hanging over his shoulder with its own coat and hat.

It was chilly outside, everybody had cock coats or at least cock hats on. We walked briskly the short distance to our next destination. We arrived in just a few minutes. Wand-Dong opened a door and jumped in shaking the cold off as he entered. I followed him in, but it was not the strip joint as I had expected, it was the Cocker's place.

A lovely woman came up to greet us and asked my friend if I was the patient. He obviously didn't need any help from these people. I was the only full-grown man in this room with a little dick. She came right up to me. She stood so close to me that I could feel her warmth and her breath on my face when she spoke.

"So you are the little pee-pee guy?"

I didn't know if I was supposed to answer but I did and tried to explain.

"You don't understand, on my world I'm kind of large," I boasted. Why was I boasting I wondered? Was this just my old habits? Because the last thing I was trying to do was impress this woman.

"Six inches," Wang snickered. "He thinks six inches is big."

"Six inches! You could put your cock into my pussy sideways and I wouldn't even feel it," she said imitating a little girl's voice. "If you had a big dick, I'd let you fuck me until I died, would you like that?" She said and stuck her tongue into my ear. Now that was gross.

"Do you want to kill me?" she continued without letting me answer.

"I'll let you fuck me to death if you get the 'super cock job'." She looked into my eyes and smiled very sweetly. "If you don't want that then you can get the regular 'big boy job' and I will let you fuck me until I rip and bleed all over the place."

It was getting too weird for me. I signaled to my friend that I wanted to leave. He shrugged his shoulders in resignation and we headed for the door. The girl did not want to take 'no' lightly and, holding on to me as I turned to leave she said, "I'll fry up my ovaries for you with a garlic sauce, just get the 'super deluxe dick' special, please."

I dragged her to the door and seeing that she was not going to let me go, had no choice but to push her off me. She came charging back and hugged me like a bear. I pushed her head back and punched her in the nose. I felt the crunch of her nose breaking under my knuckles. This did not discourage her in the least and she kept hold of me even though her nose was gushing blood. I threw her on the floor and stomped her on her face with the heel of my boot. She still would not give up. She grabbed a pant leg in a last desperate attempt to sell me a dick job.

"Just a half-meter extension." She offered through blood gurgling out of her face.

I kicked her in the stomach very hard with my free leg, then three hard kicks in her crotch. She finally let go and we left her on the shop floor twitching and bleeding from most of her orifices. I am not normally violent, but fucking salespeople!

We continued our walk to the strip joint. The wind was picking up and dark clouds were gathering. People were walking quickly to do their errands before the approaching storm. An old man was shivering at the corner, waiting for the light to change. He hugged his large but flaccid dick like a teddy bear. Wang-Dong stopped to help the elder across the street.

Wang-Dong commented, "It's a lot harder when the pillar of granite becomes a big tube of marshmallow," he said to the old man. He patronizingly patted the old goat on the back as if he was an idiot. The old man smiled and seemed to take it in stride.

He thanked my friend and said, "I wish I could kill just one more pussy before I die, or at least tear it a bit, just to feel that power one last time."

They both stood there with far away looks philosophizing about boners, limp dicks and fucking women to death. I listened because I couldn't help it. It was all so beyond the bounds of what I had ever understood. They seemed to be men like myself, but their one anatomical difference changed everything. It was such a male world that no man could help but be attracted to it. I could not go to the extremes that these men did but I was still fascinated. This world was custom designed for men no matter what species you came from.

The light changed and Wang-Dong helped the older man walk across the street. A sudden gust of wind threatened to tip the old man over and my friend steadied him. He flipped the old guys penis back around his neck as the wind was making it flap in Wang's face. We arrived on the other side of the street. The old guy patted Wang's dick and thanked him profusely.

Wang-Dong patted the old guys dick a few times and said, "Take care of your cock old man. You might have a stretch or two left in it yet!"

The old man smiled and it seemed that his dick got just a bit firmer. The pep talk had done him good. I wanted to contribute but I really didn't know what to say. The culture was still too foreign for me to improvise, but that had never stopped me before so like the idiot I was, I put in my two cents.

"Your father probably had a big dick too," I said.

Both of them became dead quiet. I could feel the tension and the strain. I must have violated some kind of taboo, but instead of just shutting up, I tried again thinking that I could fix it. It seemed so easy when Wang did it.

"You could stretch some whore's pussy and make her smile," I said with forced enthusiasm.

They both starred at me. My friend had a 'you're embarrassing me dumbshit' look on his face. Therefore, to really fix everything I tried just one more time.

"Hey, go home and give the big stiff one to the pig of a wife you have. Just grease her up and ram it into her butt," I blurted. Actually, I was having a great time. It was fun as shit!

"Don't worry if your manhood is a limp noodle, we'll just stuff a wooden dowel down your man meat and presto, hard cock," I told him while trying to hold back an uncontrollable laughter that was rising up inside of me.

"You lost your boner! Where can it be...where can it be?" I yelled.

I circled around both of them searching for said boner on the ground. At the time, I thought what I was saying was the funniest thing I had ever heard. I couldn't hold it in anymore and I fell on the ground laughing. The two men just stood there and waited for me to stop. It took a few minutes but I finally got up off the street and stood next to them. I stopped laughing and remained quiet. The old guy turned to Wang-Dong as if nothing had happened and thanked him again, then trotted off.

"Come on asshole," Wang said to me, "Let's get to the club."

I followed him down the street. I was walking just behind Wang. I watched his large dick as it rested on his shoulder. It was such a surreal sight. It was like a living creature that Wang carried around. I felt that twinge of jealousy that all men feel when confronted with a bigger dick, because the truth is, size matters. Yeah sure, you have to know what to do with it, but I have always thought with all things being equal, that the minimum size could not be as good as a deluxe size. We are not talking twat here, we are talking dick!

Wang started to talk and it brought me out of my thoughts. He was in the middle of boasting about his penis again so I was only half listening, when he said something that made my heart stop.

"...after I beat that whore hole unconscious with my dick I went down to the local bar to get a drink. But just as I walked out of her apartment into the street, a large spiral of lights appeared in the air and this woman jumped out."

I stopped in mid-step, frozen like a stupid candid photo. A creepy feeling crawled up my spine that told me that Wang had met the notorious Sheila.

"A large crowd gathered around her," he continued. "No one had ever seen such a woman before. She was fierce and defiant. Everybody in the crowd got huge hard-ons. I got one of the best erections I have ever had. We all wanted to fuck her manhole very urgently. There must have been about twenty of us and we all dove for her at the same time. It was a mess, twenty guys all trying to get their dick inside that woman."

"What happened," I asked cautiously.

"We all got our butts kicked, that's what. She fought like an insane battle cat. When she was finished with us, none of us wanted to have sex with her anymore."

I looked at Wang, I thought I saw him blush. These men did not embarrass easily so I was intrigued by what it might be.

"What is it Wang," I inquired.

He looked like a child that had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. I felt sorry for him but I still wanted to know what was going on.

"I guess I am a freak because I not only wanted to fuck her before my ass kicking but I wanted her even more afterwards. She kicked me in my dick very hard, and then used it to swing me into a tree. No woman had ever touched me like that before and it affected me at a deep level."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Wang suddenly caught himself and recovered his macho facade. He continued, "Oh yes, she came here once. She hated this place. The energies here were too contrary to her energies, the opposite of what she was. We are all male here and she is all female," he explained to me.

"That sounds sexist," I commented.

"I don't care what it sounds like, that's what it is. You can call it positive and negative energies, the fact were that she did not like it here, she said that it weakened her."

"She said what," I blurted out!

"Look, forget about the Amazon yeast pudding," he said trying to change the subject. "Let's get going, I want to get to the club."

We continued our walk. I had thoughts running around my head that made it hurt. I thought about what Wang had just said. It had never occurred to me that something could weaken Sheila. I needed to know more but Wang was not in the mood. I filed the information about Sheila away; we were almost at the club. Several men rushed by us and one bumped me with his cock, knocking me to the side.

"Excuse me," he said as he walked by.

I marveled at and envied these men with such manly tools. I thought about what it would be like to get the operation and have a one and a half meter cock. I could stretch a few dozen pussies, maybe kill one or two sluts then get my old dick back. I might do it just for fun. I dropped the fantasy because I was creeping myself out and we had arrived at the club.

The door was made of iron. The word 'death' on the door was peeling from neglect. It led to a big room with a stage on the right and a wide square pit on the left. A bar stood along one wall overflowing with big dicked drunks.

"We are in luck my friend, "Wang said, "It is 'pit night', this will be fun. Come on," he waved over his shoulder and I followed him to the pit. Many men were gathering around it. They were hooting and drinking like insane people. In the pit, a fully dressed nun was kneeling and praying.

It was some kind of fantasy role-playing game. I had seen this kind of thing in other worlds. That is what it seemed like, but the truth was weirder than I could have imagined.

"She's from the local convent," my friend informed me. "This is her first time." He laughed and ribbed me with his elbow. There was a joke in there somewhere but it eluded me.

We stood at the edge of the square pit as other men took their place along the whole perimeter of the hole. The nun looked up at the proceedings and a look of terror came across her face.

The men crowded closer together along the pit so that more could fit. There were three rows of benches behind each of the four sides of the pit. Each bench was about a foot higher than the one in front, like mini-bleachers. These filled up with men so that everybody could see into the pit. The nun was praying with her eyes closed now and had her rosary tightly clenched in her hands.

A voice came on over a loud speaker, "OK gents, let's untie those wangers."

There was good-humored murmuring as the men untied their dicks. They were joshing and kidding each other as if they were boys in a locker room. The first row held their penises out over the pit. The rows behind placed their dicks on the shoulder of the man in front. The nun stopped praying and opened her eyes. She started to sob and clutched more tightly to her rosary.

Then the announcer said, "OK boys, let's start jerking that meat, ready, set, go!"

All the men began to masturbate furiously. The room was filled with the sounds of men slapping their respective monkeys and a lot of grunting. After a few minutes of insane penis pounding, the men ejaculated together in one big communal grunt. A huge volume of splooge erupted out of their cocks into the pit and completely engulfed the nun. She tried to swim to the edge of the pit but the white sticky deluge would not let her move much. She struggled for a few minutes then succumbed to the thick sticky fluid and drowned. She was no longer a person, just a patch of black and white floating beneath the surface.

I tapped my friend on the shoulder because I wanted to leave. I had had enough of this culture and needed a break from it. My previous fascination was changing to revulsion. Were these men insane and being insane together, they did not seem crazy to each other. The disregard for anything female, the purposeful contempt for women that bordered on psychosis, was too overwhelming. It defined the very maleness of the men here at the exclusion of everything else. It was well integrated into their language too, with popular sayings like, "What the cunt do you want?" or 'Where the vagina is he?' and the habit of calling women 'holes' or 'sluts' and never by their names.

This wasn't evolution, it was something perverted, a branch of life that had taken the wrong turn. The fates should have ended this experiment in gargantuan penised men, long ago. Their huge wangers would have made it impossible for them to hunt and they should have become extinct. However, when people moved out of the forests and into villages and later into cities, they created artificial environments. In these unnatural environments, many kinds of creatures survive, when in the wild they would have perished. I started to feel the unnaturalness of the society like a metallic taste in my mouth and was anxious to leave. Wang-Dong walked with me as I left the club. There was too much death here. I told my friend that.

"But they are only women! What is the problem? It's not like we kill real people," he explained patiently.

We walked down to a small park with benches to one side. We sat down together and Wang pulled the dick stick attachment on the bench around. He untied his dick and rested it on the small padded stool.

"I am going to leave Wang," I said, "I don't belong here. I belong with other kinds of people."

Wang understood and said in sympathy, "Find yourself a small dicked world then you will have the biggest dick and feel like a stud."

I started to explain that size didn't matter when I stopped, knowing that my statements would not have meant anything to him. It was also a big switch for me to be defending the 'size doesn't matter' side of the debate.

"I have one thing left to do then I am going to a quiet place and rest," I said. I let out a breath that made me feel old and tired, but I could not rest yet. Sheila was still on my tail and I had Satan to deal with.

I had to find Sheila and lure her into a trap so Satan could collect her soul. I concluded that, insane as it seemed to be, confronting Sheila might be the one and only chance for peace in my life. I thought that I had gone crazy because I must have been crazy to think I could take Sheila on. If Satan helped me and I could weaken her some, then I might have a chance of coming out of it alive. I started to formulate a plan in my head. I got up automatically and said my good-byes to Wang-Dong.

"See you later you big cocked motherfucker," I said absentmindedly.

Wang smiled and said, "Thanks man, and my mother appreciates it too. I do have a big dick don't I, see you."

I called the light people and jumped into the netherworld. The worlds of the third dimension swirled around me, but for the moment, I was not interested in them. I asked the light people if they might help me.

They replied all together, "we'd love to help!"

I explained my plan to them. I would find Sheila and make her chase me through several worlds that I hoped would weaken her. Then when she was weak, I would call Satan and we would take her down together. Then he would take her bitch ass back to hell. They listened politely as I concluded my explanation.

When I had finished I waited for a comment or something, but they were quiet.

"Is there something wrong?" I asked.

Still they were quiet. This was weird; usually the light people were very talkative. Finally, one little light in the corner spoke up.

"You made a deal with Satan?" She asked.

"Yeah," I replied, not thinking anything of it. I thought she sounded surprised.

"You expect him to help you and you think he's not going to screw you?" the light asked.

I had never heard the light people speak like this before. I had only exchanged greetings with them in the past. I figured that they didn't have much to say because they were a bit stupid. I don't know why I assumed that.

"Why would he help you? Satan has never kept a bargain since the beginning of time," all the lights said together.

"...Since the beginning of time?" I thought aloud.

Their logic was flawless of course, Satan had a perfect record, would he change now, I doubted it. So what was I to do? I couldn't afford to stay in the netherworld long. I had to out jump into a world and think about this. I had burned up enough calories already. I said my farewells to the light people and thanked them profusely for their help.

"Glad to help," they said joyfully, "and when you decide what you want to do, come on back and we will help you all we can."

"OK light dudes, see ya'll," I replied.

"Stay a bit longer next time and we'll bake some cookies," they said just as I was reaching for a world.

I would have to see what that meant when this was all over. For now, the important thing was to deliver Sheila to Satan without getting fucked in the deal. It occurred to me that Satan still hadn't forgiven me for drinking his private reserve. The punishment should have been death after long torture. That was the same punishment Satan thought fair for just about anything done against him. I should have known myself that Satan would never have forgiven me. I had forgotten that demons never forget.

"It would be nice to spend an afternoon baking cookies," I thought whimsically as I reached out my hand and was jerked out of the netherworld.

### Chapter 13

### A Most Brilliant Plan

I out jumped onto a beach. It was warm and humid. Even before I could get my bearings, a small brown child came up to me and asked in Spanish if I wanted to buy a dried baby alligator. I took the grotesque thing and gave him a gram of gold. The child's eyes got big at the sight of the gold and he ran off screaming in joy. I imagine that even so young, he recognized the great value of what I had given him.

I walked until I found a small restaurant just off the beach. A driftwood sign hung on a pole with the word 'Cerveza' painted on it. I needed a quiet place to eat and to plot. I took a seat at a table, its chair sat on the sand under a banana leaf shelter. I ordered a liter of beer and slammed half of it in one long chug-a-lug. Damn I was thirsty!

A huge belch came out of me as I put the bottle down. I thought that for the first time in my life I was going to do something worthwhile, if not worthwhile at least I was doing something. I fully expected to die early in the game, but then I might just as well survive, I thought. That was the thrill of it all, that I might be victorious against Satan and even Sheila. I had nothing to loose and everything to gain. Only under these extreme circumstances could a coward like me have found the courage to go into battle. It helped that I did not really appreciate the odds against me. I didn't know that I was up against one of the most powerful creatures in the multiverse, and that everybody was afraid of her.

I finished off the liter of beer on the second drink and ordered another one. I saw a tall dark man with white blond hair come in and order a Soda. He sat at the next table sipping his drink. He was heavily tanned and seemed to be tired, I imagined from all that tanning.

It was very hot and the shade barely gave any relief from the heavy air. I drank up my second beer, ordered a third and started to formulate my plan. I needed the ideal setting, a place where Sheila would have a disadvantage. I probably couldn't lure her to hell, but somewhere like hell. It had to be a place with demons, or a place with strong powerful male creatures in it.

The tanned blond guy grabbed my third beer from the waiter and brought it to my table. I didn't pay attention to him. The heat and beer had already given me a buzz. I drank most of the third one in one breath. I put the bottle down and found my guest starring at me.

"Jucko," he introduced himself.

"Hi," I said, "nice ocean."

"Yeah, nice...Where are you from?" he asked.

I wondered what his game was. I looked him over. He looked like a regular beach boy except that he was older than most. I concluded that he was trying to pick me up.

"Who are you Jucko, and why do you want to know?" I asked.

"I am waiting for a jumper," he whispered.

I didn't feel any danger from him. That in itself meant nothing as I had been wrong before, but in this life you have to have something to go on and all I had was my gut feeling. He didn't seem to be one of Sheila's spies. He was dressed in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. He was glancing from side to side as if he was looking out for spies as well. I went with my feeling.

"OK Jucko, I am the jumper, who the fuck are you?" I said.

He stopped looking around. I was glad because it was getting irritating. He came close to me and whispered, "I have a message from the sparkly light guys."

I wondered if I was seeing the whole picture here. He seemed like an ordinary beach boy playing secret agent for the light people, but I guessed that anything could be made to seem like anything else, if you had the power. Sheila had many powers and I had seen her do wonders. In the end, I went with my instinct, not so much because it had served me so well in the past since it had not, but as I said, it was all I had to go on. I played along with his secret agent act.

"So," I whispered, "did they give you the code?"

"No, there's a code?"

"Sure, there's always a code...I say 'I'm going to prance a fancy pony' and you say..."

I pointed to him to solicit the reply. He sat there silently not knowing what to say.

"Didn't they brief you?" I asked, pretending to be bewildered.

"Brief... but the code, I..."

"You say, 'I'll be mounting him on Tuesday'."

"I'll be mounting him on Tuesday?' He asked.

"OK you can tell me the message now," I ordered. After our brief exchange, I was fairly convinced that he was not a spy.

He cleared his throat, sat up strait and saluted me, "Yes sir, 'Go to the beach at sunset.'"

"That's the whole message, what beach?" I asked. "Are you sure that they didn't say any more?"

"Yeah that's all. You know the code was longer than the message," he commented, then he slunk off my table, tip toed out of the shack, crept along some sand dunes, and disappeared over a rise in the sand.

I thought Jucko was a fucking idiot and his message was meaningless, but what did I know about fourth dimensional creatures. Maybe it cost them too much energy to send a longer message. I figured that the beach at sunset sounded like a good idea in any case.

I finished my third liter of beer and got up to pay. I went up to the bamboo bar and handed the barman a gram of gold. He took it and smiled broadly, it seemed to be a useable currency here. He gave me a thick wad of local bills in change. I asked about a hotel. He said that there were no hotels but I could rent a hammock at the Cosmic, just down the beach.

I bought a fourth liter of beer and staggered out into the sunshine. It was so hot that the heat sat on your head and shoulders like a weight. Being drunk in the middle of the day and wearing a sheepskin jacket didn't help either. I looked up at the clear blue sky. There was not a single cloud as far as I could see, just the blazing heat. I took my coat off and shuffled toward the Cosmic.

The Cosmic was built on a huge rock that jutted up five meters above the beach. It had a natural flat top where this guy had built a backpackers paradise. He had hammock rentals and a small restaurant. The restaurant was notable because it only served one kind of food, crepes. The menu had over 50 different kinds of crepes on it.

I had scrambled eggs and bacon crepes for breakfast, then ham and cheese crepes for lunch then several caramel crepes and chocolate crepes. I tried the chicken mole crepes for dinner. I had vanilla ice cream in a crepe, strawberries in a crepe and even crepe in a crepe. I kept eating crepes. I gained 5 pounds during the time I stayed there. I never eat crepes anymore.

I rented a hammock and it came with a metal locker where I could keep my things. I put my coat in there and I lay around on the hammock for most of the afternoon. I looked out over the beach. The Cosmic stood high enough above the beach to have a good view. There was no breeze this time of day, it was as hot as freshly baked shit pudding. The Pacific Ocean gently crashed along the shore below me, creating a lullaby with the cawing of seagulls in the background.

I was falling asleep but it was a strange sleep. The heat suspends everything and you think that you are floating, even before you fall asleep. I was in that heavy floating place, dreamily gazing at the great big Pacific Ocean when I heard the light people. It was not words that I heard, it was more like waves of laughter that meant specific things that I understood.

I woke up suddenly and couldn't remember where I was. A warm feeling on my foot made me think of tropical sands and warm oceans. I fully awoke to find a small calico cat licking my feet. I sat up in my hammock and shooed it away. Just then, a small girl came up and gave the cat a firm kick in the rump. It yelped and ran off. I wanted to scold her but what she did was probably normal here. She just stood there looking at me.

"What?" I asked.

She quickly pulled out a roll of newspaper about 6 inches long and two inches thick. It looked like a little paper baton. She unrolled it and revealed what looked like weed. The gods had read my mind. I gave her what I had left of the local money. She ran off squealing with delight.

I rolled up a big joint with a corner of the newspaper that didn't have any print on it. As I was smoking, I tried to remember what the light people had told me in my dream. As I lay in that heat, it seemed that there was a fog around me. It was a fog I could not see but it was still able to cloud my sight. I took several long hits on my joint, contemplating the limitations of human perception when I noticed that the stoned I was starting to feel from the weed was punching a hole in the fog that was limiting my sight. I heard a message and it was from the light people. It was 'Bring us six orders of egg, ham and cheese crepes'.

That seemed a strange request because I had assumed that the light people did not eat and they had never asked me for anything before. Well someone was hungry.

As I got more stoned, I realized that they had communicated with me at a very deep level. I had transcended the training of my senses and had received more than just sound. My senses had reached into the fourth dimension. I wished that I had a more sensitive and receptive mind so I could have understood more than just their superficial remarks. I knew that there was a lot more to the message than I had heard but I just didn't have a sophisticated enough sense organ to 'hear' it. It was as if their message was a book and my senses could only 'read' the cover.

It was getting late but the sun was still yellow in a blue sky. I sat facing the sunset in my hammock and I romanticized the sun going down every night on this idyllic setting. The locals probably didn't see the beach and sea like we travelers did. We traveled here for a short time with our money and never worked. We found their poverty quaint and refreshing. We patronized their hunger and hard life by saying that it was a more natural way to live. Some visitors even adopted the life of the locals, but of course we could never be like them because we always had a way out. The travelers could always go home to their wealthier countries, if things didn't work out here. I had an even bigger out, I could leave this entire world and leave whatever mess I had created behind.

It was time for my rendezvous at the beach. I walked down the few steps that had been cut into the stone that led to the sand from the Cosmic. I followed the beach south.

Soon I had left the tourist area. I walked three kilometers to a fishing village called San Augustine. It was so small that it took only two minutes to walk through it. In the few shacks that passed for this village, no one seemed to be home. I assumed they were all out fishing. I kept on walking. I thought that the light people would show themselves when they were ready.

Soon I was completely alone, as far as I could see; there was only the sky, sand, and sea. Only the far away cawing of seagulls broke the stillness. Their sounds did not intrude into the quiet; they were part of it.

I felt the hair on the left side of my neck rise. I knew that it was a reaction to alien energies. If I had been a less traveled man, I would have thought that ghosts were trying to communicate with me. What I had felt was just the light people trying to get my attention. They called it 'knocking on your thick head, stupid'.

"Call us!" someone said over my left shoulder.

I turned around but no one was there, it was the light people talking to me from the fourth dimension. I called the light people and greeted them.

"Oh thank-you,' they said as they appeared in front of me. "It is so difficult for us to initiate the communication. When a third dimensional creature calls us, it is so easy!"

It was good to see the light people. I had found through my contact with them that indeed politeness was of great value and was rare in the multiverse, and of the many good feelings, we as living creatures are privileged to feel, being treated with respect and politeness must rate very high.

"We have a plan," they stated simply.

"I have one too," I said.

"OK," they said, "We'll go with yours, ours wasn't that good anyway."

I shrugged my shoulders and explained my plan of jumping through several worlds that would weaken Sheila, then finally to Midgard, a magic world where her magic would be mostly neutralized. There I would call Satan, we would defeat her together and he would take her to hell.

The light people pointed out a few flaws in my perfect plan. Sheila would not weaken easily. I needed jump food whereas Sheila had her magic jump liquid that she carried with her. I would need the cooperation of the creatures of the various worlds that I was going to lure Sheila to, in order to weaken her and coordinate them into a fighting force, which wouldn't be easy and Satan couldn't be trusted and I would probably die.

After they explained these flaws to me, I asked what their plan might be. They liked some of my plan but they said that we had to leave Satan out of the formula because he was so unreliable.

The first thing was to neutralize Sheila's jump calories. They suggested that we send in a spy. The light people had already selected one for the job, a young girl whose whole family was rotting in slavery because of Sheila. She had begged for this chance to get her vengeance. She knew it would probably mean her death but she did not care. The plan was to steal Sheila's supply of jump liquid while Sheila bathed at the imperial baths on the Mistress world.

The timing was important. I had to wait for just the right moment to spring the trap. The light people decided that I had to personally be the bait or she might not go for it. It all had to go perfectly because we would get one and only one chance.

I picked Midgard as the final world to defeat Sheila in. I thought that the magical nature of that world would neutralize most of the magic that she would have left. The light people agreed that Midgard was a good choice. I had to choose several other worlds to lead Sheila through in order to weaken her first.

We would start in the Mistress world, at the bathhouse. Then I would lead her through two other worlds I had chosen to confuse and overload her senses. Then two more worlds that were strong in male energy. Then the tricky bit, to get her to Midgard where I would deliver the final blow and call Satan. If he showed up, we would defeat Sheila together and he could take her down to the depths of hell then I could go back to lying in a hammock and eating Italian food. If he didn't show up when I called, it would be up to me to dispatch her as best I could. For some reason, I still believed in the back of my mind, that Satan would help me. I don't know why I believed that.

Another problem was that even with Sheila weakened with multiple jumps and male-energy worlds; I doubted that I would be much of a match for her. I needed a weapon to even the odds. In the multiverse, you can literally get anything you wanted for enough gold. This element served as the multiversal currency. All creatures understood its value for gold had jillions of uses. I intended to go to the Worldmarket world with a lot of gold, and if I didn't get robbed and murdered, I would arm myself with the most perfect weapon I could find.

One of the worlds I had chosen was the world of trolls and goblins. Those creatures are all males and would fuck, torture and eat any female creature that they encountered. I had chosen the most violent time of the year in that world to lure Sheila there. It was called La Fiesta de La Mala Puta. (The festival of the bad whore.)

I could not use gold there to buy their cooperation, as they did not value it. Goblins and Trolls lived in crude mud and stick shelters. They had very little culture or civilization. They had created language only so that they could insult each other better and to more clearly deliver their final curse. Every troll and goblin had this power, to curse someone with his dieing breath. I was counting on Sheila killing a bunch of goblins and trolls so that they would all curse her. Their curses have been known to be quite potent, and as far as I know, there is no defense against them.

Goblins only loved a few things. Good cigars and smooth brandy were at the top of their list. They would get drunk and smoke premium cigars for days and days. They loved to insult everyone and everything, including each other. Goblins were some of the most irritating and offensive creatures to be around. Trolls were harder to please, as they were moody and indecisive. They liked to eat and drink, that was about it.

As part of my plan, I organized the biggest feast they had ever seen for La fiesta de la Mala Puta. I invited goblins to drink free brandy and smoke free cigars, and invited the trolls to the grandest Bar-B-Q their world had ever seen. I had to organize two separate parties because goblins and trolls always ended up fighting when they were together. I would only bring them together for the highlight of the night. It was announced that the party would end with the biggest surprise the goblins and trolls had ever seen. The surprise was Sheila of course but I wasn't going to tell them that. They were going to help me subdue her without knowing that they were helping me.

I brought 27,000 cases of 100-year-old Greek brandy and 42,000 boxes of premium cigars. I arranged for animals from 19 worlds to be slaughtered and roasted with rare herbs and spices. I would also be re-fueling my jump calories at the party for the last jump to Midgard.

I would make other arrangements for food in the various worlds I planned to jump to. I would have to eat on the run. I was hoping that Sheila would not be able to re-fuel so easily, not having her jump liquid and not having made previous arrangements.

"Everything should work," I said to the light people, "unless you have a better plan?"

"No, no we like your plan. It has an equal chance of failing as any plan, so why not."

I didn't like the sound of that, but I ignored it. I had no choice really. I got ready to call the dark door and jump to the Worldmarket to buy the weapon that would finally defeat Sheila, or so I hoped. Just before I jumped, I said, "I forgot the crepes you asked for, what were they for?"

"You heard that? We were just farting around. We wanted to know if you could hear us. WOW, pretty cool," They said together and sparkled around like a bunch of exited kids. "It was just a joke, forget it." I shrugged and jumped.

### Chapter 14

### Take a Bath, Kiss My Ass

I realized just how much of my success depended on Sheila making a mistake. My plan was less of a plan and more of a hope than anything else. In the end, it didn't matter. I was tired of running and one way or another it would all end soon. I met our spy just before we sent her off on the suicide mission to steal Sheila's tubes of jump juice.

The spy's name was Bellita. She was a petite little brunette. She reminded me of fairies I had once seen long ago. I looked into her big fairy eyes as I spoke to her and I could see her single-minded determination. I knew that the odds were against her and that I would probably not look into those deep grey eyes again. I should have felt bad sending this girl to her death, but when we approached her, we did not have to convince her, "Just let me get within striking range with a dagger," is how she answered us. I persuaded her that stealing the jump liquid would hurt Sheila more than her suicidal attempt at assassination.

I waited across the wide boulevard from the Magnificent Imperial baths. I was sipping coffee and nibbling on cream wafers as I watched Bellita walk into the main entrance. My plan was in motion. Everything had been arranged in the various worlds I was going to lure Sheila through but for now, I had to wait. I took a long hot drink of my coffee, got tired of the wafers and ordered a club sandwich.

I didn't know what was going on in the baths but there was no turning back now, I was as committed as a insane loony. My sandwich arrived and I took a bite. It was very good. I ordered three more club sandwiches and focused on eating. While I ate and waited, I marveled at the magnificent building in front of me that housed the baths.

Pale yellow tiles covered the walls. Each molded individually with the imprint of a different leaf. Deep blue borders framed the enormous walls. The roof was a huge onion dome painted in a gold and blue spiral. The building gave you the impression that it was a gigantic yellow ocher blizzard of swirling leaves, carrying the onion dome along.

The Imperial baths did indeed belong to the emperor of this world at one time, but that was ancient history. The current owners had wrested it from the emperor. The emperor held out against those Amazon bitches for over 29 days. They defeated the emperor in the end and took control of this world. I don't know exactly who those Amazon bitches were, I just know the general history like most people. I imagine they are other creatures like Sheila. They are "the Mistresses" now and this is where Sheila feels the least vulnerable, among her own kind.

I was just finishing the last bite of my fourth club sandwich, when a thunderous explosion shook the very ground and rattled everything on the table. I jumped up as I put the last piece of turkey in my mouth and slammed the coffee in one gulp.

I saw dark smoke coming out of a high window in the imperial baths and I knew that Bellita was carrying out her part of the plan. The explosion had been Bellita's idea. It was a distraction to keep the mistresses busy while she stole Sheila's jump juice.

I started running down the wide avenue, away from the baths. Bellita should have been just a moment behind me, if she was still alive. I turned and saw her jumping out of the main doors as fire and yelling raged behind her. I ran as hard as I had ever run. I knew that this was my life or my death I was playing for.

I turned a corner around a large building and ran toward the huge open field at the edge of town. I called the light people as I was running. Far ahead of me at the far side of the field, I saw the lights start to flicker. Soon a large disc of multi-colored lights was dancing in joy ahead of me. They eagerly awaited a greeting from me. I shouted a hello to them as I approached. They reacted by jumping around and flashing their greeting back to me. I glanced over my shoulder again and Bellita had just turned the corner and was coming towards me. The plan was working so far, I thought. Then my heart jumped into my throat as I saw Sheila coming around the corner, just behind Bellita.

I quickly estimated if Bellita would reach me before Sheila had caught up with her. It would be close but I decided to wait for Bellita. I was waiting at the end of the field by the disc of lights. It took only a few seconds for Bellita to cross that field, but it felt like forever. I just stood their, unable to do anything to help.

"Come on Bellita, come on," I said through clenched teeth.

My focus changed to Sheila. She was in my line of sight and I could look at either of them without moving, I just had to change focus. She was the same Sheila I remembered. She was angry as fuck and somebody was going to be mutilated and killed before she would be satisfied.

Then something strange occurred to me. Sheila was a really bad runner. She might have been strong but Bellita seemed to be out running her. I motioned for Bellita to hurry. I reached out to her as she strained to get to me and in one motion I jerked her toward me, called the dark door and we jumped into the netherworld, and as I jumped, I thought that Sheila wasn't great at everything. Perhaps I did have a chance for victory against her.

Bellita did not seem alarmed with the netherworld and I was glad, that was one less problem I had to deal with. The light people were there and asked how we were.

"We are fine. How is the rest of the plan going?" I asked.

"Oh, everybody is anxious and ready to get on with it," the lights said together.

"Who is everybody and why is everybody helping me?" I asked, thinking aloud.

A lone light shone brightly and answered, "You are a legend in the multiverse. Sheila has many slaves and many enemies. Until you, no one had had the courage to defy her."

I thought about that for a moment. A legend, what the fuck were they talking about; I was just trying to get away from Sheila.

"Many creatures wish to 'get away' from Sheila, but who would do it? Not until the 'warrior jumper' had anyone had the testiculos to defy her. You are the pivot, the focal point of her destruction."

If they knew that then I wondered if they already knew the outcome of my battle with Sheila.

"Tell me how it turns out," I asked.

"We do not know for we cannot see her future. She is more like us and her life force is too flexible. She can not be predicted because she is not subject to the same karmic forces you are."

"More like you? You mean that she is a light person."

"No, she is like other fourth dimensional creatures. There are many different kinds of us. That is the secret of her potions and magic. To you simpler creatures, what she does seem like miracles, to us they're not shit."

"Satan is most like us while still living in the third dimension. That's why things would be so easy if he cooperated. He would be the only real match against Sheila because only he can match her power but he is too lazy and arrogant. It is in his nature to deceive and lie. So you will have to package her up and present her to him on a silver platter, if you want his 'help'."

It was dawning on me that all of the help I was promised might boil down to squat. It was like when friends say that they will help you move your apartment then they never show. Well I was going to get a lot of help, but only from the sidelines. The final 'slug it out in the alley' scene was going to be a solo act.

What I needed was to surprise and overwhelm her. I needed awe and shock. That was my hope because I would have one chance at her. If I made even a small mistake, it would all have been for nothing. I would be killed slower than I could imagine and every conspirator would be sought out, tortured and killed.

I turned to Bellita and said, "It's time to jump out of here, hold my hand."

I waved a farewell to the light people and they sparkled back. I reached out my hand and Bellita and I were jerked into a world.

### Chapter15

### Nazi Bitch

We got separated when we jumped. I didn't know where Bellita ended up but I out jumped into the world I had chosen according to plan.

My intention was to cancel out her very feminine power by jumping to male energy worlds, like the land of big dicked men. These worlds had a dominant ambient energy that was anti-female. Not anti-woman, this was not petty sexist politics as Wang-Dong had explained to me. These energies were real. You could call them positive and negative, or even hot and cold energies; it was all the same thing. Some places enhanced a person's power and some places weakened it. I knew the kinds of worlds that made Sheila weak and the kind of worlds that made her strong. For example, the Mistress world was a powerful place for Sheila.

The first two worlds I would lead her through, I had chosen in order to overload her senses. I wanted her to loose her temper, maybe get confused. I thought that enough of this would cloud her judgment and she would make a mistake.

The world that I had just jumped into was in the middle of a party. I had out jumped into the men's room of a bar. No one was there at the time. The light people had told me exactly when to out-jump so as not to be seen.

I said a quick but friendly good-bye to the lights and dashed out of the bathroom. I opened the doors and was instantly bombarded with incredibly loud music. I felt the base beat in my leg bones as I pushed my way across the large dance floor. The disco was packed beyond capacity. I got to the other side and burst out of the door into the cool night air. The streets were overflowing with party- goers too.

It was 11PM on April 30, Queens Day. Everybody was drinking and whooping it up. Many had orange boas or orange hats on. The whole country celebrated together in what must be the biggest birthday celebration on earth, the queen's birthday.

I walked quickly through the crowds. There were no cars out. Thousands of people stood in the middle of the streets drinking and talking. I didn't have time to join in the revelry. I turned down a narrow alley and the noise diminished noticeably. I stopped in front of a non-descript green door. A dull brass number nine hung on the doorpost. I had arranged food at this location. I took a quick look both ways down the alley, it was empty and still. I buzzed the bell.

A long minute later, I heard a loud click as the door bolt unlocked. The door opened to reveal a little old woman. She seemed tiny and frail. She lifted her head and said, "Come."

I followed her down a dank hallway. Her white hair seemed to glow and provided an easy guide to follow in the dim light. We walked up old wooden stairs that creaked to her flat on the second floor. She let me in and closed the door behind me. She locked the door, and then quietly ambled into her kitchen. I followed her.

"Sit," she said in a firm strong voice indicating a chair at the kitchen table. I sat down. She opened her refrigerator and quickly took out various containers and transferred them to large oval plates. She covered the table with various foods that she had prepared earlier. She sat down opposite me and said, "Eat."

I grabbed a spoon and started on a large bowl of potato salad. It was made with black olives, celery and mayonnaise. I finished the whole bowl, it was delicious.

The old woman said nothing but watched me intently. She slowly pushed a large roasted chicken toward me. I smiled at her with my last mouthful of potato salad still in my mouth and tore the right leg off the unfortunate bird. I swallowed the salad, put the complete chicken leg in my mouth and sucked all the meat off in one smooth motion. I pulled the bones out being careful to avoid the pointy bone in the fore leg. I did the same with the left leg, and then I picked up the whole torso and chomped it down to a little pile of bones.

The little lady was ready with the next dish and eased it toward me as I wiped my greasy hands on a dishcloth. It was a large pan of spinach and sausage lasagna. I dropped the cloth and picked up my spoon. I ate the lasagna slower as I was getting full so I took a moment to look around.

We were in a small traditional kitchen. It was quaint, a bit like a photo from an old magazine. Everything seemed faded. I stopped my gaze on the old woman. She seemed to belong here, part of the faded décor. She was still staring at me.

"I have seen that look before, but not for a long time," she said. She was not talking to me, just talking.

"I remember the sound of their jackboots when they marched," she smirked at me and swung her arms stiffly at her sides as if marching while sitting. "They loved to march on our cobble stone streets. You could hear them coming from blocks away."

I was getting a bit confused, what 'look' was she talking about? I asked her.

"Look!" she exclaimed, and it made me jump. She seemed so small and frail but evidently, there was still some spring left in that brittle bag of bones.

"I am talking about the look in your eyes, the look of the hunted animal. Yes, I have seen it many times but that was so long ago, during the war."

She passed her eyes over the table at the empty plates and the bones and scraps I had left. Her eyes glazed over as her memories took her back. She talked of a painful time that needed to be spoken about, a time too long ago for most to remember, a time the rest wanted to forget. This world had seen many wars since then but for this woman there was only one.

"But to me, I remember it like it was yesterday," she whispered and closed her eyes as the memory overtook her.

"You could hear them marching from blocks away. Yes, they used to march on our many cobble stone streets, just to hear their jackboots click on the stones with that smart snap that they so loved but that was just their play, when they came for you, you never heard a sound. They came in the middle of the night. You knew of them only when it was too late, when they were at your door breaking it down. They yell and scream, pushing you and beating you. Before you know what is happening, you are trussed up like a chicken for the butcher."

She stopped suddenly and took a deep breath as if a great tiredness had overcome her. I listened with rapt attention while automatically spooning lasagna into my mouth.

"I lost Jan to them. It happened one rainy night. We had made love all that afternoon and night..."

I stopped in mid-spooning and looked at her with an unexpressed comment.

"I was not always old and decrepit young man. You can not imagine me as young and desirable?" she accused me.

"No," I muffled and spat out bits of spinach and sausage. I swallowed and said, "No that wasn't it at all, you're still a good looking woman. You know, your not fat, you still got a good ass and you have really good posture. I was just thinking about you two going at it for hours and hours."

"We got it when we could. We lived in dangerous times. Once we had a whole week at a farm and we made love in various pleasurable ways the entire time. We stayed naked the whole week. I felt that for that week there were no other people in the world. That week was the happiest time of my life. The war seemed far away. We had so much sex that I lost 2 kilos and Jan lost 3 kilos. This made her laugh and it was the brightest, most genuine laughter I had ever heard. I stopped eating to examine just what was so different about it. I thought that it was something that she had preserved from youth for it sounded young and strong. She had hidden it away in some quiet place inside herself and it had been kept fresh and young for all of these years. Then as if reading my thoughts, she finished for me.

"And I have not often taken it out and used it," she said.

"Excuse me?" I asked confused.

"My laughter, isn't that what you were thinking about?"

"Yes but how did you know?" I asked in surprise.

"Some of us are different that's all. We are not all at the same level of evolutionary development. I can hear thoughts from some people. It came in handy during the war."

I wondered about her use of terminology that it was quite sophisticated, I thought that she was just a silly old woman.

"Before I retired, I was a molecular biologist," she stated simply.

That made me shut up even in my thoughts. She then continued her story and I finished the last few bites of lasagna. She pushed the plate with dessert on it without stopping her story. It was a most excellent lemon cheesecake.

"That night, after hours of lovemaking, we had fallen into an exhausted sleep. It was past midnight when they came. I awoke first. There was noise and voices in the hallway. Our landlady Mrs. Van Horne was yelling at the soldiers that they should get out. This was of course useless, and she knew it but she was raising an alarm for us, trying to buy us a few precious seconds.

We both were fully awake then and leapt out of bed together but it was too late, they were already at our door and Mrs. Van Horne was silent. They pounded a few times on our flimsy door with their rifles and they were in.

They grabbed Jan and started to beat him. Someone pushed me aside and I fell into a corner. They were not interested in me, they had orders only for Jan. I jumped on one of the soldiers that was beating Jan and bit his ear until it bled. He threw me off and kicked me in the stomach several times before he ran off crying. Do you believe that, a soldier crying?"

"I lay on that dirty floor in the most terrible pain I had ever felt. My insides felt as if they were torn or burned. I wanted so much for the pain to go away, but it would not. I wanted to help Jan, but I could not.

"Then the captain in charge personally picked me up off the floor. He passed me to two soldiers. He put on a pair of very smart black leather gloves. One of the soldiers grabbed my head and forced me to look at the captain. He smiled and kissed me delicately on my forehead as if he was my loving uncle. He stepped back and said, 'such a pretty child' then started punching me in my face while one soldier held me by the hair and the other one held my arms.

It took the captain only a few minutes to break my nose and beat my face to a bloody pulp. He made a casual gesture to the soldiers that he was finished and that they could do what they wanted with me. They dropped me on the floor and exchanged a few words. I understood what they were saying because I speak German."

She stopped talking, noticing that my lemon cheesecake was gone. She got up slowly and went to the fridge. She returned with a tub of ice cream covered in chocolate sauce and whipped cream. She placed it in front of me and returned to her seat. She laughed that bright sparkling laugh again and said, "I learned German in school because I thought that the Germans were a highly civilized people, ironic isn't it."

I had no comment to that. I started to shovel ice cream into my mouth, and listened.

"The two soldiers were discussing whether to rape me or not. Then they both lit up cigarettes and told an off color joke about a young Jewish girl.

I was lying on the floor this whole time, my face covered in blood. My lips were torn and swollen and my nose was broken. My head hurt so much I thought I was going to die. The two soldiers decided not to rape me and settled for hitting me with their rifle butts. They broke three of my ribs and my arm before they stopped. I am grateful to the fates that I was not raped. It seemed that the Gestapo captain had done me a great favor by breaking my nose and beating my face. I was to grotesque and bloody looking for them, so they just beat me."

I looked at her small delicate features. Her skin seemed to be transparent and looked smooth in spite of her age. She wore only a few wrinkles and looked like a young girl pretending to be old. She smiled shyly at me and for an instant I could see her as her young self again. I could not imagine men so evil and inhuman that they could hit that lovely delicate face.

"They left me on the floor where I was expected to die and rot with the rest of the garbage. I could no longer feel any pain, only numbness. I thought that my back was broken but it was not, I was just in shock.

"My fate was to lay there and watch helplessly as my small fragile world came apart. I was unable to move or do anything, as they took him away. The only way I could fight back at that moment was not to cry and I didn't then and never have again."

I looked at her eyes. The face around them suddenly became old. I understood something about being helpless. I had also encountered creatures in the multiverse whose nature was to dominate and conquer. The rest of us were just pawns in their struggles for domination and power. We were just ordinary people trying to find a bit of happiness during our short lives. It was her misfortune to have fallen victim to their merciless clutches. She looked back into my eyes and I thought that she recognized something in me.

"You understand me don't you?" she asked, looking right up at me.

I returned her look, "Yes," I answered simply and she knew that that was the whole truth and needed no embellishment.

"That war," she continued, "was the end of my childhood and the end of my happiness. I was left with only hate and the desire for vengeance. I fought against them for years. I helped build bombs, I forged documents and I smuggled out many people that were in danger of arrest. Then the war ended."

She gave me a quick smirk, "We were all friends again and they said that we should forgive and forget, but Jan was dead and my hate and pain did not end with the signing of some documents."

She stopped suddenly. She slumped a bit as if the weight of her shoulders had increased. Indeed the weight of her past bore heavily upon her. She could not reconcile those terrible years and could not forget them either. Then, reading my thoughts again, she said, "Many have chosen to kill themselves but I, like you, am a coward and could not do it. I hated myself the most for that."

It seemed that blackness had settled around her, a space of less light caused by the depth and darkness of her memory. Then she brightened up in her attitude and seemed childlike again. It was remarkable how quickly and completely she could change.

"But you have given me another chance at evening the score before I die. I know that it will not change anything, it will not bring Jan back, but it is something. At least I will have helped kill the beast."

She folded her hands on her lap and became quiet. Another painful memory had overtaken her. This one was too painful to speak about and too painful even to remember. She just sat there quietly struggling, trying to push it back into the hidden cove it had escaped from.

I didn't want to intrude into her pain but I wondered how after all these years she was going to even the score. The war had been over for 61 years already, and how could I help? She looked up at me with a cold determination.

"You brought me my one last chance. That is why I am helping you."

She got up and went to her fridge again. She brought out a gallon plastic jug of orange juice. She put it in front of me and returned to her chair. I was finished with my ice cream and gulped down the juice. Boy was I caloried out!

I put down the jug of juice and wondered about the woman in front of me. She had been through a lot and had suffered more than a human should. I sympathized with her but I thought that it had all been too much for her and that she had snapped. Being unable to get vengeance on the sadistic German monkeys that had crippled her and murdered her lover, she had made Sheila the object of her hate. She had become a crusader. I didn't really care, I was grateful of the help wherever I could get it.

"I am not fucking crazy!" she snapped. "Don't you see, she was there! She used to amuse herself by teaching them new and more efficient ways of torture. The insane midget gave her a special commission in the Gestapo. I remember her. I got just a glimpse of her waiting in the hallway." Her eyes were wide and she seemed to be having some kind of a manic episode. She needed to calm down.

"No, you idiot, I don't need to calm down," she spat with venom, reading my mind again. "I am helping you because this is my last chance at Sheila. I don't fancy myself as a super hero ridding the world of evil." Then she shut up and sat quietly.

Well it didn't surprise me that Sheila had been a Nazi, I imagined that she had been an exceptional example. "Do you know what you are up against?" I asked, just out of curiosity.

"Yes, silly man, the same thing I have always been up against."

"And that is..."

"Death!" she said in a hissing whisper that left me no doubt that she clearly understood, perhaps even better than I did. "I don't expect to survive, surely you don't, do you?" she asked sarcastically, but more calmly.

I actually did expect to survive. "Are you sure that you will not survive this? You may," I said.

"No, not this time, I know the evil that chases you and I know of her power. Jan's death could do nothing to help defeat those moffen bastards but I will not go to oblivion for nothing. I will know that I helped in my way to defeat that Nazi demon before I die."

The room got very quiet suddenly. I felt something in the air that made all the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I reached out with my senses feeling my surroundings. Something was wrong. It was like a feeling from childhood that something large and horrible was going to grab you and eat you up from out of the darkness.

"Get ready warrior, your life and death will be decided in a moment," she said, her voice rising in volume. "Prepare for flight or prepare for battle."

She jumped out of her chair with incredible agility and grabbed a long silvery rod that was leaning in the corner. I felt a cold wind blowing on my back and I knew that that wind was blowing from another world. The doorway between worlds was opening behind me. I leapt up and turned to see the lights starting to appear.

"Run you fool, I will delay her the best that I can," she shouted to me.

I didn't move for a second because I didn't know exactly what to do.

"Just move you idiot. Go, go! Why is someone as stupid as you still alive, just move your legs and vamoose."

I took her advice and ran into the next room. As I crossed the threshold, I felt the dark door opening behind me. The old woman let out a fierce yell and the sounds of battle exploded from the kitchen. I was through the adjacent room in a second. I thought it was odd that all of the furniture in the room had been pushed to one side. I wondered what purpose it served. It seemed that the furniture was being stored instead of furnishing the room. I realized as I quickly outran the noise behind me that the furniture had been purposely arranged so that I would have a clear path through this room.

I ended up in the hallway and I ran to a small window at one end and saw the top of a ladder. I slid down the ladder and landed hard on the ground. By now the old woman was dead. She had bought me my life with her life. I thanked her silently. Though it was hardly anything, I had only that token to pay with, I wished I had more.

I jumped up and ran out of the alley onto a busy street. The partying was still going on at full strength. I pushed my way through the crowds. A group of people had their arms linked and were singing together. Two pretty girls grabbed me by the arms and tried to link me into the group. If death wasn't just a few seconds behind me I would have loved to party with those two lovely girls, it was just bad timing.

I broke away from the girls and continued my pushing through the crowd. It occurred to me that those two girls might have just caused me my death by delaying me a few critical seconds. I turned down an alley and called the light people. Just as they started to appear, two drunken girls came around the corner from the other end of the alley.

They staggered a little way then one started to fiddle with her underwear under her short skirt. She pulled it down and squatted to pee. The lights had all appeared by then and the standing girl's awareness was registering something unusual at this end of the alley. She squinted as if she was trying to focus on the lights and me.

"What's that, Val?" she gasped to her friend.

Her squatting friend immediately stopped peeing and whipped up her underwear like a professional. She stood up and looked down the alley at me and the lights.

"It looks like fireworks," she said in a Scottish accent.

"Don't be scared girls," I called at them and jumped.

I turned my head and looked behind me as I jumped. That was something I had never done before. I could see the alley as if through a window. It was already being superimposed by images of many other worlds. The girls had shocked looks on their faces. This would be a good story for them to tell their friends for years to come. The dark door closed behind me and the alley joined the whirlwind of third dimensional worlds that swirled around me.

I was in the netherworld again. I felt that I was somehow safe here. It was an unwarranted feeling, as I did not know anything about this place or the reliability of my subjective feeling when I was here.

"The feeling of security is an illusion." It was the light people. "It seems true from your point of view, but it is not true in an absolute way, you see?"

"No I don't see. How can it be true one way and not true in another way?" I asked.

"That is only because of your point of view that you can not see the difference. For a third dimensional creature such as you, it is true that you are safe here, but only from other third dimensional creatures, because of their limited senses. The closest you have come to a fourth dimensional creature is Satan and he is mostly human, you see?" they explained.

"So is there a sanctuary anywhere in the multiverse?"

"Perhaps not like you think, but we believe that you will find your place.

"So you know that I will live through this?" I asked.

"No we don't. Let us qualify our statement then...if you survive."

They sparkled a lot as if agitated. I had never seen quite that kind of sparkling before.

"She is searching for you with her witchcraft. You had better get to the next world. It seems that the last world had some affect on her because she seems confused."

"Where is she?" I asked anxiously.

"Go, go quick or all will be lost!" they shouted.

I reached out my arm to the next world that we had chosen and it jerked me out of the netherworld.

### Chapter 16

### On Carnival Time

It was nine o'clock on Saturday night. The light people had chosen this as the optimum time for our purposes. I out-jumped into the back parking lot of a state fair. Hundreds of trucks and trailers were parked in various awkward ways to allow the most vehicles to fit.

I watched the light people fade away and was left alone with the darkness. I heard music playing and crowd noises nearby. I had chosen the carnival because carnivals were purposely designed to overload the senses. It worked well on the local inhabitants, so I figured that it might also affect Sheila.

I walked through the jumble of trucks until I came to a long row of canvas tents. These were the backsides of the carnival games. These games were open to the public only on the opposite side from where I was. They were called lineup-joints and formed the outer perimeter of the oval carnival midway. Across the midway from the lineups were center-joints that formed a smaller oval. Center joints are games that were open on all four sides to the public. Inside of the ring of center-joints were the rides.

I had gotten a job in one of the lineups earlier and had a 'hole' waiting for me. Sheila would not be expecting me to be working at a local job. She considered work beneath any creature that could jump worlds. She always had a high opinion of herself. She told me many times that she was like a goddess and that no king or queen was worthy of licking her butt hole. I was counting on her arrogance to help cloud her judgment. I walked up to the line of tents, to a red and beige tent, lifted the canvas in the middle and went inside. The music got louder and the crowd noises erupted all around me.

The game only used the front half of the depth of the tent so the back half where I had entered was blocked off from the midway and the public by a cloth. I could see the agents working and the people playing the game through the cloth that hung between us. They could not see me because I was in darkness while the other side was brightly lit. I went to the corner of the joint, lifted the dividing cloth, crouched down and went into the game. I stood up on the other side and faced the crowded noisy midway.

Our game was called the 'bushel baskets'. The game consisted of a cedar slat bushel-basket that was nailed to a board and tipped almost on edge. The point of the game was to throw two softballs into it. If you did, you won a huge stuffed toy animal. Our 32-foot long line-up joint held six agents and over a hundred large stuffed toy lions and tigers.

I was at one end of the game. Alex filled the position or 'hole', next to me. He had wandered onto the midway just last week, and although he had never done it before, he was a natural agent. He was also very smooth and polite, like agents used to be in the old days. That was not something common among carneys anymore. Most carneys used confrontation and intimidation to win their money. Most of the old ways had long disappeared, but Alex came from a different background.

He had developed his skills as a small-time con man working on the street. He knew how to do three-card Monte and he taught me how to do it. I never became the master he was but I got pretty good at it. Alex was so good because he had had so much time to practice. He had spent six years in the state penitentiary practicing every day. He always said it was just a matter of practice.

I was watching Alex work a mark. She was a bright-eyed sweetheart in her early twenties. He specialized in young pretty girls. I guess every man would like that specialty but Alex understood women much better than most guys and he gave them what they wanted, so he actually practiced what we all only fantasized about. Unlike most of us, he had something they wanted too.

I wasn't working, I was watching Alex, the master. It was not just that I could learn a thing or two from him, it was simply a joy to watch him operate. As he soft talked and soft stroked the girl, I thought about Tom, my best friend in my old life. I had always thought that Tom had style and technique, but compared to Alex, he was an awkward crude boy. I laughed aloud thinking back on Tom's maneuvers trying to get laid. They had been pretty pathetic.

I returned my attention to Alex and his cutie. They were giggling like teenagers and lightly touching each other on the arms and face. Alex might have been enjoying it all but he never lost sight of the fact that he was an agent and she was his mark, so inter-woven with all the flirting and flattery, she had to play the game.

The game cost a dollar to play. A good agent could get twenty dollars out of a mark in a few minutes. Alex was better than good. He had already beaten the poor girl for one hundred and fifty dollars. He had done this by moving her up to paying ten dollars a game instead of one dollar. He had increased the price of the game by offering her a bigger prize.

Alex had the girl by the hand as if they were going steady. Their heads were almost touching and he was explaining the latest price increase to her in a low intimate tone.

"Rebecca sweetheart, we are going to change the game. It's going to cost twenty dollars for two balls from now on, but if you win, I am going to give you all of your money back and two of the big stuffed lions."

Rebecca giggled like a little girl. She obviously liked all of the attention and physical contact, and as Alex had told me many times, 'the more you touch them, the more money they give you'.

Alex didn't wait for an answer. Part of an agent's art was to be in complete control of the mark. "OK Beck, give me twenty dollars and let's get winning."

The girl put a hundred-dollar bill on the counter. Alex took a small stuffed rabbit from under the counter and put it on the hundred-dollar bill. This kept it hidden from view.

"I'll give you the change when you have finished playing," he said, but Alex was going to beat her for the whole hundred, he did not intend to give her any change.

In quick succession, she threw softballs and boom, boom it was all over. It happened so fast that before she knew what had happened, the five games were finished, the hundred dollars and the rabbit were off the counter and Alex was deeply French kissing her while fondling her breasts.

He was such a good operator that I have seen girls come back to be fondled and loose more money with him. He finished his long French kiss with Rebecca. He mumbled some empty promises into her ear then sent her down the midway. She walked off with a silly smile on her face. Alex waved to her until she vanished into the crowd.

I asked him, "What's your secret Alex?"

He looked at me and smiled. He was quite an observant man and I am sure that he had noticed my admiration of his work.

"It is irrelevant to these girls that I am getting their money, Ace," he said. "What is important is that for a brief moment someone is paying attention to them, to them and only them. It is a hard drug to resist. Most women are so starved for affection that when they meet me, they are ready to sell me their soul for what I can give them and the saddest part is that they don't want much, they just want to be treated like women."

This knowledge did not make Alex sympathize with women or treat them well; instead, he used it to make a good living from them. His liked to beat pretty girls out of all their money, then take them out and spend more money on them than he had beaten them for. He told me that he got a special kick out of beating a professional modern woman out of a lot of money, then taking her out for an expensive evening on the town dinning and dancing, treating them like real ladies. He liked how this threw the women off balance. Alex then would take them to his hotel room and 'fuck her until she sings', as he put it. I thought Alex was using a euphemism, but I found out latter that after some women have been satisfied very well, they actually sing.

"She's just a little drunk and her head is spinning from the fabulous night of dinning and dancing," he continued. "You take her back to your place and after the door is locked you waste no time. She's not there for conversation, that part of the evening is over. She wants only one thing at this point. That is the art Ace, to bring a woman to that point."

"I love that part," he told me. "When that last piece of clothing comes off and she is completely naked. I have to step back and take a long look, because having a beautiful naked woman in front of you waiting to fuck you like an animal in heat, is what it's all about."

I didn't know if I agreed with him completely but I didn't have the magnetic attraction that Alex had with women, so I couldn't fairly say one way or the other.

I could have listened to Alex all night but someone came up to the counter in front of me. I automatically grabbed two softballs and started to explain the game to the new mark. I almost jumped out of my skin when I looked up. I thought it was Sheila for an instant but when I looked closer, it was not. It was someone that looked a bit like her. I was so spooked that I had to get out of the game. All of my senses perked up. I had been too careless. What the fuck was I doing admiring Alex scamming on pussy when I could have been killed at any moment.

"That could have been the real Sheila," I thought as I jumped over the game counter out of the game.

The mid-way was packed with people. I blended in and slowly moved at the crowd's plod. I pushed my way through, as I had to go to the bathroom. The sudden surprise had made me want to pee really badly. Toilets were always crowded and stinky at carnivals. I tried not to use them but this was an emergency. It is a fact of humanity that when a lot of us congregate, we leave mounds of shit, piss and garbage behind.

As I shouldered through the mass of people, I checked my internal calorie counter. This was a sense that all jumpers develop if they wanted to survive. I was still pretty full from my last meal but I felt that I could use a bit more food so I stopped at a grab joint that sold Bar-B-Q turkey legs. They had hundreds of turkey legs roasting on a large charcoal grill. For three dollars, you got a huge roasted turkey leg; it was some of the grossest food you could imagine. I ate it because it was fast and loaded with calories. I had long lost my taste for foods made of animal parts but when I had to, I ate whatever.

I ate the leg as I continued on my way to the Doniker, which is what carnies call toilets. I finished the greasy monstrosity and tossed the bone into a garbage can. Now both my hands were oily and I wanted more than anything, to get them clean.

I spotted the restroom sign above the heads of the crowds and headed toward it. My bladder was just at that painful stage when a person starts to walk funny, lest he pee in his pants.

The smell hit me before I got there. It was reassuring actually, as I knew that I would be relieving my painful bladder soon. I turned an intersection that led off the main carnival midway to the bathrooms and froze in my tracks. I literally stopped in mid-step, like a stupid cartoon character. I stood there with my mouth open as if in mid-scream. Just three meters in front of me was Sheila. She had her back turned to me or I would have been dead already. She was intensely focused on an unfortunate senior citizen couple that had somehow offended her. She was in the middle of an abusive verbal assault on the hapless pair. She grabbed the little frail old woman by the shoulder and shook her.

"How would you like it if I bumped into you like that, huh?" she said as if instructing a child.

She shook the woman again and her glasses and hat fell off.

"Let her be", said the old man that was with her and he reached out to take Sheila's hand off his wife.

That was a mistake. Even an insane caca-brain should have known better than to try to touch Sheila. The guy was just too old to realize that he was just seconds away from his death. On the other hand, maybe he did know but didn't care when it came to his wife.

I took a step back as if I was reversing film. I expected her sorcery to notice that I was behind her and ready to be tortured and killed, but she did not turn or notice me. She was completely absorbed with the drama in front of her.

Sheila grabbed the old man by the wrist in a quick movement. She squeezed until there was a snapping sound. The old man let out a croaking groan and collapsed onto the ground. I took another step back and to one side. There were two telephone boxes next to me and I stepped behind them. I could not see her anymore so I turned quickly and ran trough the on-coming crowd.

Well I tried to run, but the best I could do was the pace of a shoulder bumping death march because of the oncoming crowd. I had the further handicap of still having to pee. My lower abdomen felt twisted like a knot. The pressure was so great that I peed a bit with each step.

These were details as far as I was concerned, I had to put as much distance as I could between Sheila and myself. I cut my way across the oncoming crowd toward the center of the oval midway, where the rides were. There were less people there.

The center area also had generators and maintenance equipment in it. It was fenced off with three-foot high temporary fencing and off limits to the public. I had my show shirt on so I thought that I wouldn't be challenged as I leapt over the fence. I found cover behind the massive generator truck. The sound it made was deafening but I had a clear view of Sheila across the mid-way from there. I was momentarily safe. I also had a private moment so I pulled my zipper down with shaking hands. It took a few tries as my hands were still covered in turkey grease. I pulled my dick out of the side of my underwear. It was squirting pee before I got it out and it shot out with great pressure as it finally cleared my pants and I could, with a clear conscious, relax and pee freely. I peed and peed and when I thought I was finished, I peed some more. I peed until I was in pain and until I had multi-farted a big wet spot in my pants. I let out a huge breath of relief when it was finally over.

I had never taken my eyes off Sheila while I was peeing. She was still torturing the elderly couple. The man was on his knees on the ground holding his wrist, and Sheila was holding the woman off the ground by one hand. The poor woman hung there limply, unable to help herself against such a powerful opponent. As I watched Sheila brutalize her victims, I understood why creatures like her had to be gotten rid of. The tyranny that one bully with power could spread was vast. The damage to people and to the society was incalculable. They were like murderers that kept getting away with their crimes because the corpses they left behind were still walking around.

A real bully-tyrant could kill a person just as surely as a bullet. The difference being that the victims body dies long after the person inside has been killed. If a person's pride, dignity and self-worth are the basis of what a person is, then when a bully does his work, he does indeed kill the person.

I saw why so many people were willing to suffer or die to fight evil like that, because that kind of evil hated life and loved only to kill and destroy. That was the real evil in the multiverse. I had never been a crusader. I had blamed the fates for my actions in the past and never thought that they had any continuity, but I saw that I had always had a hatred for those that wanted to dominate and control. Even in my old life, I had fought against those corporate bullies. They knew that they could push us around because we needed our jobs because we had families to feed. They tried to take away my individuality and dignity like they had with Terry, our office manager. He was no longer a man because he had been broken. He was now just a neatly fitting part of a machine. A machine designed by tyrannical petty men so that they could make a lot of money and live well, without working.

Standing there, with the noise of the generator roaring in my ears, I understood what my whole life had been about, what everyone's life was about. It was up to each of us to help in whatever way we could to rid the multiverse of scum like Sheila.

I gathered my resolve and pushed out any further distractions from my head. I finally understood that, if I didn't care, if I pretended to be an innocent bystander, then I had no right to complain. I deserved whatever shit I was in. Just by not fighting back, I would become an active accomplice in my own oppression, a willing partner in my own enslavement.

Suddenly Sheila stopped moving and her attention seemed to be distracted from the couple. She casually dropped the old woman and scanned the area around her. I knew that her superior senses had noticed something.

That thought should have made me panic in fear but I found that I was less afraid than I had ever been. I had faced death many times and had come to feel that one moment was as good as any other moment to die. My fear was moderated by the fact that I couldn't prevent my own death anyway, I could only delay it. Maybe I had only been pretending to be afraid all along. I almost laughed aloud realizing that Sheila was within sight of me and I really didn't care.

My mind pushed these realizations aside and I focused on Sheila. The plan was to wait until she had seen me. If I could, I was to let her chase me through the carnival to disrupt her mental balance as much as possible. That was the plan, I was the bait and I had to lead Sheila to the next world or this world would be my final resting place.

I had chosen the land of big dicked men as the next world. Only hell and the land of big dicks held more male energy than that world.

In the land of big dicks, the dicks had grown so large that the men behind them had completely disappeared. The dicks developed a consciousness of their own. They had a very strange and creepy way of understanding the world, even weirder than men from the land of bi-dicked men understand.

My friend Wang-Dong was waiting for me with a trap that we had planned for Sheila. He had recruited over a thousand men to help defeat Sheila. Each one knew that he could easily be killed for his involvement, but that did not stop them. Every one of the one thousand was a volunteer.

I was pleasantly surprised that so many different creatures across the multiverse had risked so much to help rid itself of this tyrant bitch. Only the goblins and trolls had to be tricked. 'Trolls and goblins wouldn't help an armless granny wipe her ass ', as the saying went. They had no concepts of honor or sacrifice in their societies. It was every goblin and troll for himself.

In order to get Sheila to follow me into the land of Big Dicked Men, I needed to make her very angry or confused. This would be the only way to cloud her judgment for that critical instant and have her in the Land of Big Dicked Men before she was aware of it. This was a tall order considering that being aware of what the true situation was, was Sheila's strong point. She would not knowingly jump into that world.

The light people had told me not to worry about it. They said that they would help me but would not be more specific. In addition to their vagueness, I was also worried because the trap we had set for Sheila required that she out jump into the land of Big Dicked Men exactly where the trap had been set. If she out-jumped outside the trap, it would take Sheila only a few seconds to re-assess the new situation and somehow end up killing the fuck out of everyone involved. I was ambiguous about the light people's assistance because if they could do something meaningful against Sheila, why hadn't they done it before now. So I had my doubts about how much the light people could actually do to help me. The stupidest thing was that I still thought that Satan might come through and suddenly show up with a million demons to help me but I also realized at the same moment that I was an idiot for thinking it.

I was waiting for Sheila to notice me. I couldn't be too obvious because Sheila was no fool. She had been around for a long time and she was smart. That was one of the things I used to like about her. I once thought that if she had been just a little less demanding, that she would have been a good companion, but what did I know.

The deafening roar of the generator rattled my teeth and I got a sudden feeling in my feet that they should move fast and flee like an ass bit rabbit. I re-focused my attention on Sheila but when I looked again at where she was, she was not there. I now felt the familiar panic that I was used to. My face got hot and my heart seemed to jump in my chest. For all I knew she was standing right behind me, smiling in anticipation of ripping out all of my intestines through my mouth, then burning them in front of me before I was further tortured and horribly killed. I turned but no one was there. I looked around and spotted her in front of one of the line-up joints. She was talking to a carney in the joint. I could see by their body language that the idiot in the joint was trying to play Sheila like a mark.

"I'm no fucking mark, asshole!" she exploded indignantly.

I somehow heard her shouting over the roar of the generator. That wasn't normal, that was wizardry. While she was distracted, I decided that it was time for me to run. I took off toward the two giant sky-wheels that sat at the entrance of the mid-way. I glanced to where Sheila was as I ran. She had grabbed the offending carney by his crotch and was jerking his whole body back and forth like a rag doll. The carney was completely helpless and could do nothing to resist. His arms and legs flailed about like a puppet's. She then picked him up over her shoulder and tossed him into the corner of his joint. He lay there convulsing and drooling yellow bile.

I was close to the two sky-wheels and I stopped to reorient myself. I crouched down behind an electric junction box. I had to be careful because there were dozens of live electric cables connected there. It was a death trap. I lifted my head to see what Sheila was doing. Sheila was still in front of the same joint. She was scanning the area around her.

Suddenly, like a scene from a cheap horror movie, our eyes met. I saw in her look that she had spotted me and recognized me, even though only my eyes and the top of my head was sticking up from behind the junction box. I didn't know what to do. I had expected to be off the mid-way by then and away from the crowds. The timing was critical if we were going to trap her in the next world.

I remembered that she was not that great a runner. This made me feel a little better. Then a doubt entered my mind. Maybe Bellita was a very good runner and Sheila just looked bad compared to her. I was a terrible runner and I realized at that instant that Sheila could easily catch me and I had been a complete fool for even thinking that I could have defeated her at any level or in any fashion. Not even an army of a thousand drunken Hells Angels dudes and their biker-bitches could have harmed a hair on her head. Our whole plan had been based on Sheila making mistakes, and she wasn't obliging us.

I needed to decide what to do, where the fuck were my co-conspirators when I needed them. Then before I had time to think of a plan, she had crossed the distance across the mid-way and was standing just on the other side of the junction box that I was crouched behind. I could smell my death like a silent fart in an elevator. She looked down at me still smiling. Sheila smiled a lot but they were never nice smiles, they were always evil smiles. I got myself ready for one last act of defiance. I had already given up on surviving this ordeal about ten seconds earlier.

"Thanks for coming, fuck you very much," I said with sarcastic venom.

That made her angry; she hated it when someone else was sarcastic to her. I had seen her kill more than once because some jerk said something to her with a sarcastic tone of voice. Her smile turned into a frown and she became the scariest thing I had ever seen, even scarier than Satan. The sight made my asshole open and close many times repeatedly. I shot a huge load of liquefied shit into my pants just from the malevolence in that look. I took a deep breath and prepared to be torn apart or something equally bad. My last thought was that life was a true tragic-comedy. To die at the hands of one of the evilest creatures in the multiverse was surreal enough, but to do it with a full load of shit in your pants, well that was too much. I chuckled and closed my eyes as she reached for me.

Then like a cool breeze on a hot Louisiana day, a miracle happened. A crazy carney-chick ran up behind Sheila and jumped on her back. I opened my eyes to see her hitting Sheila on the head with a short piece of two-by-four and screaming her head off. She actually got three good hits in before Sheila pulled her off and threw her onto the ground. Sheila's temper could rise to incredible heights in an instant and her eyes flared like purple flames were inside them. She gave a quick stomp to the girls arm and I felt more than heard the crunching of bone. The girl screamed a long shrill word 'RUUUUUUUBE!' then passed out. The unconscious carney-chick was the girlfriend of the carney whose crotch Sheila had earlier crushed.

Sheila turned to me and she wore that wicked smile that I had once found sexy but now just found scary. She was reaching toward me again when three big carneys jumped her and started to beat and kick her. Sheila elbowed one and then kneed the second. She picked up the third one and dropped him on the temporary fencing with one leg on either side. He stopped suddenly as the fence was just a little bit taller than his legs were long. He came to a stop with a crunching sound as his crotch hit the top of the fence. He wiggled his feet trying desperately to reach the ground but he was just a centimeter too short. He squealed almost inaudibly then he slid to the ground in slow motion exactly as a sack of shit would have.

Sheila returned her attention to me and reached out to grab me. Suddenly the mid-way erupted with carneys. They jumped out of their games by the dozens, carrying various improvised weapons and pounced on Sheila. Nobody beats up carneys and gets away with it. It was an old carnival tradition to revenge our own.

Sheila was fighting well, but the carneys kept coming. A major State Fair might have 30 or 40 thousand people working in it. Of those, only a few hundred, maybe a thousand, would be carneys but carneys made up for their numbers by being stupidly violent and always ready for a fight. Sheila was holding her own, but she was not winning because the carneys kept coming as fast as she could break something on them and fling them off.

I couldn't have asked for a better second miracle. This was the perfect thing to delay her and to disorient her. She had made her first mistake. I felt something in the back of my mouth that tasted like hope. I hoped that it was not just an old piece of turkey leg. It was a refreshing change from the sour old-shoe taste of fear that I was used to.

I stood up to run but found my knees were too stiff from having crouched down behind the junction box. I stretched my legs to get the elasticity back in my ligaments. I was watching Sheila the whole time. Oddly, all of the fighting was taking place on the other side of the junction box, leaving me out of it. The fight was evolving into a big gang-bang clusterfuck as more and more people joined in.

There was Sheila and about fifty carneys trying to kill her. Then six carnival security guards showed up and tried to break up the fight. Now that was a joke because carnival security guards have no police training and can't fight for shit. Two office butt-boys came by to see what the ruckus was all about and got pulled into the mêlée. Two dozen state troopers and ten city police officers got called in and the residents of the virgin ladies' catholic retirement home were also involved in the fight. The women were just walking by when they were accidentally sucked into the fight. It seemed that the old ladies were kicking some serious ass as well.

My knees had recovered enough and I ran towards the entrance while keeping an eye on the fight. All of the people on the mid-way were moving towards it and I was the only one going the other way. As I struggled through the onrushing crowd, I thought that it was a good analogy for my life, the only person going the other way. I stayed to one edge of the mass of people and managed to get off the carnival mid-way quickly.

I ran down the independent mid-way where there were no games or rides, just food and souvenirs. The independent was much less crowded than the carnival midway. I turned around the corner of a pizza joint which led behind the line of independents joints and among a jumble of parked trucks. I ran to the far side, beyond all of the trucks and up to the fence that surrounded the state fairgrounds.

I stopped against the fence and took a few deep breaths. I calmed down and noticed how still it was. The noise of the carnival was barely audible from where I was. I could hear crickets chirping and a few fireflies drifted nearby. The scene did not belong in the final death scene of my life. It was too nice, too lovely. If by some miracle, I made it out of this alive I vowed to find that peaceful lake again and spend many evenings listening to the crickets and watching fireflies.

I called the light people. The small blue light appeared in the darkness first. I had come to know this one personally. She was called 'the opener' and she opened the door into this world from the netherworld. That is how I understood it. The light people had told me before, that from their point of view they were always everywhere and that 'appearing' to me was just from my subjective point of view. Little by little, they appeared until there was a spiral of multicolored lights in front of me.

"Well hi guys, glad to see you," I said happily and I was really glad to see them too.

"Hey dude, how is the plan coming?" they asked.

"Oh, can't complain. Seems to be working out, I am still alive right!" I exclaimed, and all of us broke out in a belly laugh. Now that the pleasantries were out of the way, I spoke frankly and expressed all of my doubts to them.

"Don't worry," they said, "you cannot control everything. Worry is just trying to be in control. Let it go. Do not think of yourself and you will be everything," they said quite solemnly.

"You guys sound like eastern philosophers," I commented.

"That is no coincidence, we taught them everything they know!" and all the lights laughed in sparklings and flashes as if they had said the funniest thing in the multiverse.

I didn't see what was funny. I wanted to know how they were going to get Sheila to out-jump into our trap in the next world.

"You are like an old woman. We will take care of it, don't you trust us?" they asked.

Well if I trusted anybody, it would be the light people, for they were true fourth dimensional creatures and as such, had no ulterior motives. I had also found out that they could not lie, because only in the third dimension could a lie exist. In the fourth dimension, everything was apparent so nothing could be hidden.

Now it was just a matter of waiting for Sheila to show up. I had to wait until the last possible moment then jump into the netherworld. I had a tracer pill from the land of big dicked men in my pocket that would instantly take me there as soon as I jumped. I reached into my pocket and activated it. The light people were sure that they could get Sheila there too.

"Just be sure that she jumps right after you, close to you and we will take care of the rest," they told me.

"Just how close to me do you mean?" I asked with concern.

"No too, but close enough, you know."

That sounded vague but that was all I was going to get from them. I took a deep breath and calmed myself down. There was nothing to do but wait. I looked around and the night was still except for the crickets and fireflies. The light people had settled down to a dull glow as if they were resting. I sat down on the grass with my back against the chain link fence and kept a keen lookout.

The minutes and seconds dragged by as if cold molasses was being poured on a long winter night. I felt the tension of waiting for something to happen in my muscles. It wasn't that I was afraid. I had always felt safer when I was around the lights. They were like certain people you might meet if you get very lucky. They made you feel good just to be around them. The light people had told me that my feeling of safety was an illusion. In reality, they could do nothing to help if Sheila decided to attack me.

I heard a change in the noise coming from the carnival midway. The lights must have noticed it too as they brightened up with the change. It was nothing specific, just some kind of change in the ambient crowd noise. I identified the difference finally. Someone was throwing things around. The sounds of breaking glass and crushing metal got closer and closer. Then one of the food joints on the independent mid-way exploded. It was about fifty meters from us and it literally exploded. Sheila was on a rampage. She had completely lost her temper and was breaking everything in her path with a trisaliumresunticorinazer. This weapon had been outlawed in most of the multiverse but Sheila had managed to get one. A trisaliumresunticorinazer looks like a long club, the size of a baseball bat, but a bit fatter.

It was much more than a bat though. It connected the person wielding the bat to the power enhancing circuits inside. This in effect made the person and the bat one weapon and much more powerful than either separately. Even someone armed with a shooting weapon could not defeat a skilled warrior with a trisaliumresunticorinazer. Sheila had nearly split the aluminum food trailer in half with one blow and the second blow had exploded it all over the place. She must have been really pissed off because normally she would never use a weapon. She had always maintained that hurting someone with her bare hands was much more satisfying. I was scared to death watching her fury but was gratified that she was loosing her control and disciplined composure. I again felt that glimmer of hope even though death was looking at me from so close.

I jumped up and turned slightly to face the light people but kept my eye on Sheila. The dark door was already open and waiting. My heart was racing as I saw that Sheila had spotted me. I posed my self in front of the dark door like a linebacker ready for a tackle with my head turned to keep an eye on Sheila.

She was already running toward me holding her trisaliumresunticorinazer at the ready. I knew that I couldn't even take a glancing blow from that weapon. The stories I had heard said that the barest touch would melt your flesh by dissolving the cell walls. Your flesh liquefied and just poured off you like loose oatmeal. It sounded scary but I wasn't afraid of much at this point. I focused only on my task, which was to wait until the last possible moment before I jumped.

She was forty meters away from me. I kept my eyes on her without blinking. Then she was thirty meters away and raised her trisaliumresunticorinazer higher, getting it ready to liquefy me. I tensed my leg mussels in anticipation of leaping into the dark door. Then she was twenty meters away. I could see the evil childlike glee on her face. It would be only a second before she reached me.

She was ten meters away, and then she was upon me and started to swing the bat. I felt like I was in a scene from a cheap science-fiction novel, as my legs propelled me up through the dark door in a magnificent burst of kinetic energy. Sheila's trisaliumresunticorinazer barely missed me. She had missed me by exactly 1.76 centimeters. The light-people told me that fact later.

I was in the netherworld only for an instant when I was jerked into the Land of Big Dicked Men because of the tracer pill I had in my pocket. I had been in the netherworld just long enough for the lights to tell me that my timing had been perfect and I could expect Sheila to arrive at the per-designated spot just after I got there.

I out-jumped and fell on my face. The ground was hard and cold. I had forgotten where I was or what was happening when I heard someone calling. Someone was yelling but I could not understand the words. Suddenly as if I had broken trough a veil, I heard clearly, "you are in the pit, get out quickly."

I struggled to my feet and looked around. I was in a pit surrounded by a thousand huge dicks all pointing at me.

### Chapter 17

### Splooge

"If Africa was a woman my friend, she would have been raped for over two centuries, in both her major holes," Wang dong said, and made a gesture bringing his two index fingers together to illustrate the double penetration. "I pity her, so beautiful and with so much promise but who wants the used slut now. She's so stretched out that you could drive a truck through her." This was what passed for philosophy in this world.

I didn't know where he was going with the conversation and I really didn't give a fuck. Sheila was going to out-jump into this world at any instant and Wang was babbling about some trivial shit.

"Stop talking twat Wang," I said. "It's going to happen at any moment."

"Don't worry my friend; we are all willing and ready to give every drop of our strength and power to defeat the bitch. No one here likes her you know?" he seemed to confide in me.

I stopped talking because I clearly felt the first tingling of the dimensional door opening at the bottom of the pit. It was happening exactly how we had planned it.

"OK everybody," I shouted. "It's time to start pounding."

All one thousand men started to masturbate their enormous cocks furiously. They stood around the large pit in rows, each standing behind the other on a short bench, just as they had done at the strip club. These men had excellent control over their ejaculations. They could come at the exact instant they wanted to and could even control the quantity of sperm and semen, up to a point. I had asked everyone to wait patiently for my signal to shoot their wads and to give it the maximum load that they could possibly give. For my plan to work, the ejaculations had to be timed perfectly.

The lights started to appear at the bottom of the pit and the meat pounding got more furious. The sound of one thousand giant man-monkeys being slapped, a thousand baloneys being pounded echoed around the walls of the pit.

"Come on men", shouted Wang-Dong in encouragement, "jerk hard, this is for Sheila."

Just after he said 'Sheila', Sheila out-jumped at the bottom of the pit just like the light people had promised, and I shouted, "NOW!"

The plan was to shoot their loads at various intervals to create the most damage and effect. The 250 cocks on the northern side of the pit blew their nut first. The others wanked in a holding pattern, awaiting the command for their turn.

The 'northern dicks' were all standing behind Sheila so when they ejaculated, the combined loads of their waddage knocked Sheila onto her face. The force that had knocked her over was a combination of the inertia of the cock snot from all those huge wangers and the very maleness of the energy of the weapon that was being used.

Sheila stood up slowly, covered in sticky man-meat mayonnaise. The fact that she was covered in come sent her into a rage; she had always been a clean freak. Before she could fully stand up, Wang shouted, "East and west, fire!" and raised his right arm like an infantry captain.

250 crotch cannons fired a volley into the pit. Sheila was thrown to the opposite side of the pit from the force of the jerk-juice. Before she could regain her feet, the two hundred fifty on the other side unloaded a truckload of knob smegma at her. Sheila bounced around like a buoy tossed in the sea.

I was given the honor of the final call. "NOW! Front ding-a-lings," I yelled. The final two hundred fifty guys, in front of Sheila gratefully relieved themselves of their pressurized jizzum. They were the bravest of all, having to hold back their ejaculates for so long. I intended to recommend all of their dicks for medals for their patience and bravery.

The final blast flipped Sheila backwards and filled the pit to its top. Everything was suddenly still. It was all over. A dark nondescript mass could be seen at the bottom of the pit. That was all that was left of the evil bitch.

The entire pit was full of men-cock-puke several meters deep. I looked into the pit for any sign of life. There was no movement. Oh my goodness, I thought, was that it. Was it finally over? It was anti-climatic and I felt let down. It was a stupid feeling, because I had won, I had made it through alive and that was the only gauge of success in the multiverse. I wanted to feel relieved. I felt like I should have jumped for joy but I did not. I wanted to feel a compulsive desire to make plans for a vacation, maybe put away a few bucks for retirement but I could not feel those things. With Sheila gone, I wondered truly what I would do with my life, but that need not have bothered me at that moment because deep I my guts something else was bothering me. At first, I thought it was just from eating so much on the run but then I thought it was something else. I had to come out of my drifting thoughts as I noticed that the others were leaving.

Most of the men had already left. It was customary to have a few drinks together after you killed a woman with your dick, one of the many male bonding rituals of this world. Wang-Dong had stayed behind, standing to one side to give me my moment of privacy. I looked at him and smiled, "Thanks," I said simply.

He smiled back and said, "Cunt it, let's get a drink and go put some stretch marks on a stinking hole's taint or something. You want to get crazy tonight. You know, we should celebrate."

"OK Wang," I laughed, "I could use a drink."

The light people had had their doubts about the power of this world but in the end, I had been right. I had told them that the land of big dicked men would be the end of her. I smiled a super shit-eating grin at that thought and put aside my doubts.

Wang put his arm around my shoulder. I didn't mind that, but the head of his big dick was pressing against the side of my head. It didn't seem to bother him so I ignored it. They had weird ways for sure but they had just helped me dispatch Sheila so I wasn't going to insult my host.

We were walking away from the pit when I heard a sound. A gurgling, like air being blown through a straw. My stomach turned over several times from a sinking stinking feeling. I turned and saw bubbles forming over the dark shape of Sheila under the whitish pecker splooge in the pit. The hair on my neck rose in anticipation of my crotch being slowly removed from my body.

"Run you big balled motherfucker," I yelled to Wang. He also saw the bubbles and understood the seriousness of the situation immediately and ran like his ass was on fire. I tore off running myself.

I passed a group of guys that had been part of the thousand and I shouted a warning as I ran past them. "Run, you well hung dumb fucks, she's not dead."

They all laughed at me, thinking it funny that I was afraid of a female.

"You know", one of them said in reply as I ran by, "we are going to go back and gang-bang her in all ten holes," and they turned around and started walking towards the pit.

I was grateful that those assholes were assholes. They would buy me some time. I would need all the help I could get to make my getaway. I had thought that the battle would end here and had again let my guard down.

"Have fun guys," I said over my shoulder as I was running.

This made all of them laugh even harder. They were a bunch of provincial macho boys and soon they were going to get their big dicks handed to them on a platter.

I was heading towards the spot that the light people had chosen. As I was running, it occurred to me that nothing might actually 'stop' Sheila. I hadn't expected the carneys to subdue her, although they tried, bless their hearts but I had hoped that one thousand big dicks would have done the trick. I had underestimated Sheila again. Up to this point, I had considered any further preparation beyond the Land of Big Dicked men, to be a waste of time. The lights had told me before this all started that, "In a fight for your life, nothing is a waste of time."

I couldn't argue. They had an advantage over me, being from the fourth dimension. Now I was just glad that they had had less faith in me than I had had.

I was almost at the rendezvous point. Although Sheila was still alive and angry, this world should have canceled out many of her powers. The sperm bath was about as anti-female as you could get and as a bonus, all the guys had a really good time.

I stopped on a small rise in the ground and turned to see what was happening. Wang was nowhere in sight. I turned to where the pit was. Sheila was already out of the pit. She was covered in slimy smegma laced semen and had just encountered the 'we are going to fuck her in all ten holes' bunch.

The outcome of that fight could have been foretold by a blind oracle that had been dead for a week. She was grabbing their big dicks and squeezing them until they 'popped' like pimples. She had popped five dickheads and was slowly fighting her way towards me. She grabbed one poor fuckers dick and used it to wipe her face of semen before she bit down on it and took a shark-sized chunk out. She spat it onto the ground, lifted her head and saw me watching her. She started running towards me but a big dicked idiot jumped in front of her. She punched him in the face, crushing his nose and left cheek. Then two other big dicked idiots charged her, like linebackers. She ran towards them and double kneed them both in the crotch by jumping at the last moment and bringing both of her knees up. Her knees got planted squarely in between each of the two guys' testiculos. They exhaled violently and fell to the ground in a fetal position.

I couldn't watch anymore even though I was fascinated at the fierceness of her fighting. I used to love that aggression, now I was just afraid of it. I thought that she must have had very unloving parents to have grown up so angry. I turned and ran.

I got to the pre-arranged spot in half a minute and called the light people. They came and said, "Tricky little thing isn't she. You thought you had her but she won't be that easy too bag. You have weakened her greatly though."

I was happy to hear that anyway. Then I wondered aloud to them, "Does any of what we're doing have any value except to keep us fighting a hopeless battle for a little while longer, then only to die just that little bit later.

"Oh yes, it is all worth it even if we fail and are put to horrible deaths. Tyranny only survives if no one stands up to it. She has never been opposed before. That is the root of her arrogance and power. Her confidence does not come from inside of herself like a warrior's confidence. Her confidence, hence her power, comes from her victims. Her victims allow her to oppress them, see! No one has ever dared to oppose her before, and you not only opposed her but you have hurt her. She is very confused because being hurt and being weak is a foreign feeling for her. She does not understand it," the lights said.

"Better jump dude," they said abruptly. "Miss Congeniality is just about to tear your ass off."

I spotted her with the corner of my eye even before the lights had finished talking. She was so close to me that I could smell her distinct scent that used to drive me wild but now just scarred me. I jumped just as she reached for me. She missed but her titanium nail tips scrapped four thin strips of skin off my left butt cheek.

Suddenly I was in the netherworld. The light people were there. They had nothing to say but they twinkled as if they were waiting for a question. I was getting better at understanding fourth dimensional non-verbal communication.

"What?" I asked impatiently. I was tired and getting exhausted. I hadn't meant it but because I was so tired, my voice came out harsh and unfriendly.

"Ouch!" all the lights said together. "If you want to be that way about it," and they vanished.

I was alone in the Netherworld with worlds flashing by me and no idea what the next step in the plan was. If I hadn't been so impatient, the light people would be briefing me about the next step right now. I didn't know how to get to the next world, the land of Goblins and Trolls. I had no tracer pill with me because I had expected the lights to take care of it.

So I floated there in limbo, burning up precious calories, trying to decide what to do next. I saw a world fly by with Sheila in it. She was still tearing off dicks and crushing testicles.

In desperation I pleaded, "Please come back light guys, I am sorry I was rude," and I meant it sincerely. The lights reappeared like a multi-colored flashbulb. I was momentarily blinded by the intensity of the light. They settled down but were still twinkled and sparkled more than usual.

"Is everything OK," I asked relieved that they were back but wondering if I had permanently ruined our relationship.

"Great", they answered, "We just love it when someone apologizes from the bottom of their hearts. It must be one of the rarest things in the whole multiverse...that's all"

"Are we still on for the plan," I asked.

"Well of course," they replied, "What do you mean? Do you think that we were offended and that is why we left?"

"Well yeah," I answered.

They laughed at my answer. It was not a cruel laughter. It was brilliantly clear and crisp. I heard it with my ears for the first time, just like in the third dimension. Normally I could only see their laughter by their brightening and flashing. I could also sometimes feel their laughter.

Their laughter reminded me of that old woman back in Amsterdam, she had had that crystal ringing quality in her laughter too. I mentioned this to the lights.

The lights seem to sing their answer to me and I smelled something sweet as they spoke, as if jasmine were in bloom, "She is close and dear to us. We have known her since her birth. She is more like us than most humans are, but she is a normal human nonetheless. Human variation is far greater than any of you can imagine."

"So she is alright then, she is alive," I asked, a bit more concerned about her than I thought I would be.

"Yes, she is alright and no, she is not alive. Sheila killed her most terribly in the kitchen of her apartment," they answered happily.

"What the fuck does that mean," I asked bewildered.

They laughed again and I could make out a particular laughter that came from the very center of the lights, that one I knew personally, it was the little old lady.

"She is us now," the lights said. "Forever we will be pleased to have her joyous company. We are lucky indeed to have such a rare one among us. We had not seen honor and sacrifice like that in so long." One of the purple lights twinkled and I knew that that was her.

"Glad you did not go to oblivion," I said, then returned my attention back to the plan.

"What do we do next," I asked.

"You go to the land of goblins and trolls and get on with the party."

"But what is the plan, exactly," I wondered.

"Par-tay!" they said and plunged me into the next world.

### Chapter 18

### Party Hearty

La Fiesta de la Mala Puta was going at full blast when I out jumped behind the main stage. I had hired Maldonkian death dancers to entertain the goblins. The music was booming and the stage shook from the vigorous dancing being done just on the other side of the stage curtain I was standing behind.

I peeked out through the curtain. Thousands of goblins were yelling and cheering in the audience. I could see the many servers that had been walking around all day giving out free Cohiba and Monte Cristo cigars. Other servers were passing around bottles of hundred-year-old Greek brandy. Goblins only drank out of bottles and never from glasses. It was some taboo from their history but I never got intimate enough with a goblin to find out what that was.

The Maldonkian death dancers were performing their signature dance. It was a very athletic dance and ended with one of the dancers being pushed through a very sharp mesh of swords thereby 'cubing' the dancer. They were almost at the cubing.

When the dance was over, I figured that the goblins should have been drunk enough to get them to follow me into the desert where I would unite them with the trolls. Just as I got them together, I would trick them into attacking Sheila.

I looked past the enormous crowd and saw the huge transporters waiting in the distant fields for the dance to end. Their doors stood open, waiting for the goblins to board. There were more cigars and brandy on board, enough to keep them busy until we got out into the desert.

The timing would be more critical here than ever before because I had to get the goblins, trolls and Sheila to the designated spot at the same time. The difficulty was that goblins and trolls hated each other and if they were put together before the right time, they would get into a big fight and the whole plan would be ruined.

I walked to a small parking area at the side of the stage and got on the skimmer-scooter that was waiting for me. I rode away from the concert and was soon in the open desert.

The deserts here had large cactus growing in clumps with meadows of desert grass in between. It had rained recently and the desert was covered in tiny multi-colored flowers. As the wind blew them, the tiny flowers reminded me of the light people.

I remembered something they had told me once. They said that beauty could not exist in the third dimension. That when you see something beautiful, your senses are reaching into the forth dimension because only there can beauty exist. They had also told me that only a very few creatures from the third dimension had this ability to see beauty, although many claimed to have it.

The scooter skimmed quickly over the delicate desert grasses and I was fast approaching the rendezvous. Even before I could see the party, I smelled it. The biggest Bar-B-Q this world had ever seen was in full swing in the middle of the desert. The cooking smells of the meats came floating on the wind from miles away. I had brought dozens of exotic species of animals that were considered the most delicious to the trolls. They should all have been in troll pig-out heaven by the time I got there.

I could now see the huge mass of trolls in the distance. I aimed the scooter to one side of the mass where there was a stand of cactus. In a few minutes, I arrived behind the cactus. The noise from the troll party was quite subdued. Trolls did not carry on like goblins. The thousands of trolls were all busy eating. Only the grunts and slurps of their unmannered way of dinning filled the air. Trolls have the most atrocious eating habits in the multiverse.

I got off the scooter, walked behind a big cactus, and watched the festivities. The roasters were roasting as fast as they could. There were dozens of freshly butchered carcasses lying to one side of the great fires, waiting to be roasted in their turn. Others took the cooked animals and hacked them up into pieces that were more manageable. Then the servers hauled the cooked beasts in wheelbarrows and trolls grabbed what they wanted as they passed. Others pulled large barrels of ale in wagons, filling the trolls' mugs as soon as they were empty. Trolls hated empty ale mugs; it was a cultural pet peeve.

I did not intend to join in but needed to eat. I flagged down a wheelbarrow and grabbed a big chunk of meat. It was still warm and dripping with the juices of the animal that this part used to belong to. I took a big bite and tore it off. It was very good. I could not place the taste but it tasted a bit like wanteminolian punicol.

I was finishing my meat and waiting for the rest of the party to arrive. As if they had been cued, I heard the roar of the transporters. The timing for the next part of the 'plan' was critical. I could not put trolls and goblins together without there being a huge fight. Both species were hypersensitive to each other's comments, or any gesture or a looks or just the way they walked. They would take the most negative interpretation of anything, just to have a reason to start a fight.

I was counting on the light people to get Sheila to the designated spot before that happened. I was responsible for getting the trolls and goblins to attack Sheila the moment she appeared. Of course, they would not do that if they had known what they were doing but I knew it would be easy to trick them into doing it. I would be hated in this world for a long time for this diabolical act, but shit...

The transporters landed in a circle around the mass of trolls and all of the doors opened at the same time. This was the signal for the servers and cooks to leave. They dropped everything and ran like hell. The trolls did not notice and they continued their noisy eating. Everything was in place and all I needed was the light people to deliver Sheila. Things were out of my hands now so I sat back and finished my meat. I reached through a gap in the cactus and stole a mug of ale from a troll that was busy stuffing some animal's thigh into its mouth and scratching his ass at the same time. I took a long drink and waited for the scene to unfold before me.

The goblins started coming out of the ships, their spirits were still high as they had been drinking heavily and smoking all the way over. None of the trolls seemed to notice the transporters or the fact that thousands of goblins all smoking large cigars, were coming out of them. It took a lot to distract trolls from food.

When most of the goblins had exited, one of the trolls sitting near the edge of the crowd picked up its hairy head and noticed that thousands of goblins had suddenly appeared around them. He let out a deep grunt and one by one, the trolls put down their chunks of carcasses and stood to assess this new situation.

I felt that a fight was going to break out at any moment. I felt the tension thick like honey in my pants, and then realized that it was just dried shit. I quickly returned my attention to the situation at hand. It just needed a trigger, one word or gesture would be all that it took. I had to do something before all shit broke loose.

I took out the micro-mike I had in my pocket and made an announcement. The micro-mike was remotely connected to the PA system. I cleared my throat and said, "One...two, one...two, check, check." I had always wanted to do that. "Can I have your attention please? We are now ready for the main entertainment of the night."

Everybody perked up their ears. I started to get into my master-of-ceremonies role. "If I can direct your attention to the cooking area, you fucking ugly butt holes," I shouted into the mike.

They all cheered because trolls and goblins both love to be called ugly. I had them distracted for the moment but it had been close. The cooking fires had died down and there was a large oval of the glowing embers left.

"Come closer everyone, gather around the fire pit, the entertainment will be arriving at any moment," I said, and then I told them the rules. "These are the rules, whoever can knock the woman down first, gets to fuck her, torture her and then chop her up and eat her afterwards." The crowd roared their approval.

Just as I finished the rules, I saw the first little blue lights appearing over the fire pit. The other lights appeared quickly bringing the dark door and suddenly Sheila out-jumped a few feet in the air. She landed on her feet lightly then let out a fierce scream as her feet touched the live hot coals. She jumped up and down, doing a funny dance. It was macabre but it made me chuckle to see it.

Then like a tide of stinking demon shit, thousands of goblins and trolls pounced on her. Sheila fought them with the tenacity of someone fighting for her life and for the first time in her life, I believed that she might be doing just that. I again felt the thin sliver of hope that I once had and had lost so quickly.

It was time for me to get to the next world. I would have no help there like I was getting here. If Sheila wasn't sufficiently weakened by the time she got there, it would mean my defeat and premature death. I called the light people and jumped.

### Chapter 19

### Midgard

I out jumped into a dense forest. I said good-bye to the lights and took off toward a small clearing. They wished me luck then disappeared. I got to the clearing in a few minutes and took a quick look around. It was very still and quiet. I had heard that fairies and elves lived in these forests but I had not seen any.

I went to the hollow stump in the very center of the clearing and casually looked in. I found what I was looking for. I reached into the hollow and took out a small acorn. The acorn was a tracer pill set for this world. I activated it and put it in my pocket. I looked into the hollow again. The weapon I had placed there was still there, everything seemed to be in place. Now I had to wait for Sheila.

I sat down on the stump and kept a lookout. The trees were tall and deep blue-green. They felt very peaceful and serene. I knew that this was so because they were directly connected to the earth, whereas we walking creatures were full of strife because we were disconnected. It was a feeling I got from the trees themselves. It seemed that they were actually telling me something.

I was glad that we had chosen this place as the final battleground. It would be a fine place to rid the multiverse of the evil I was about to face and if I was defeated, then it was also a fine place to breath my last breath and see my last sight. I was honored that these great and mighty creatures would bear witness to the final battle for my life.

A thin breeze wisped by and in it I heard a message. It was a warning of impending danger. I jumped up and stood on guard. I thought that I was ready for her but Sheila appeared behind me, I didn't even hear her. I turned just as she was leaping toward me. Her face was black and she had little burns all over her body. Her clothes were smoldering and smoking.

I jumped out of the way but she swiped at me and tore three long gashes across my shoulder. The look of hate on her face as she charged me, scared me as much as the thought of her killing me. She crashed onto the ground past me. She lay there only for a second then staggered to her feet.

As I faced her, I noticed that she seemed unsteady and unsure. The last world had done the trick. I had never seen her in such a state before. Suddenly I knew what it was. She had killed many trolls and goblins, each of them had cursed her with his dieing breath. I could see those curses dragging her down as if they were actual physical weights attached to her.

She charged me again and as she approached, I saw that she was in the perfect position for our purposes. I called the lights but the lights never appeared on Midgard. Instead, I just vanished. I just disappeared into thin air. The light people had planed all this ahead of time, even though they had not told me any of the details.

I found myself in the netherworld for an instant then I was back in Midgard, standing on the stump right behind Sheila. She was looking around wondering what had happened to me. I quietly reached into the stump and pulled out a small metal bar, the special weapon I had placed there. I raised it over my head and brought it down as hard as I could at the base of her neck. The light people had assured me that this was her weakest spot and hitting her there should knock her out. It made contact with her neck with a loud thwack! She turned and I saw a look of supreme surprise. I understood exactly what her look meant. It meant, "You fucking defeated me! You, a medium-dicked fuck from no-place, USA, you finally took me down when a thousand warriors have failed. Fuck, FUUUUUUUUUUUCK!

That is how I read her expression. I smiled back at her. My expression said, "Yep it was only me, your piece of slave meat, no professional assassin, no army from Mars, just little fucking me."

Then her deep purple eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed onto the ground. I stood there looking down at her burned and crumpled body still slightly smoldering. I took a deep slow breath and I deserved it. I deserved taking that breath, the first breath that I had ever earned in my life. I called the light people. They appeared and seemed to explode in a loud cheer that I heard with my ears and my whole body.

"You did it! You did it!" they kept saying.

"OK let's get it over with, how do we get Satan here?" I asked.

"No problemo," the lights said, "he and his minions are already on their way. We need only wait and this drama will be concluded."

While we waited, I asked why they hadn't told me about her weakness before.

"Oh, we didn't say it was a weakness," they replied, "we said it was her weakest spot. If you hadn't weakened her sufficiently before hand, that blow to her neck would have just made her neck sore, then she would have torn your head off and shoved it up your ass while spoon-feeding you your testicles." They all had a big 'belly' laugh over their statement.

I laughed with them finding the image funny, now that the chance of that happening was more remote than a few moments ago. I looked down at the ground where Sheila's body lay just to reassure myself that she was still laying there.

"Don't worry warrior," they all said merrily, "you have vanquished her. You have won the battle. Whatever your fates may be in the future, at this moment, she is defeated and you are the victor. Do not let silly fears ruin the sweet taste of victory."

They were right of course and I felt that sweet taste that they talked about. It tasted even better than hope. I relaxed and I felt something of the warrior qualities within me. I had fought Sheila all the way hadn't I and it was I in fact that had finally defeated her.

"We played a small but meaningful role," said the lights. "We exited just before the final climactic scene because the hero should face the monster alone. He should be unarmed or at the very most, simply armed. With no heavy armor to weigh him down, the hero nimbly jumps around the monster and in a twinkle of an eye, dispatches it and ..." they stopped in mid-sentence.

"What?" I asked.

"You will have to figure that out for yourself because we have run out of what you call 'time' and what we call 'reddish-purple', the demon hoards are arriving now," they said.

The clearing suddenly caught on fire, just like that, everything was burning. The strange thing was that nothing was being consumed. It was almost as if the fire was a projection. I thought I felt heat but when I analyzed it, there was no heat. I just thought that there should be heat because I saw fire.

In the middle of the burning trees, a hole appeared and started to grow bigger and bigger. It was an opening in the very fabric of our universe. It reminded me of the title sequence from the TV show 'Bonanza' It looked as if the trees and forest were just pictures on a page and someone was burning a hole in it. It grew larger and larger until I could see the whole of hell on the other side. There was the restaurant that I had eaten in. I could see Doris cleaning tables trough a window.

A Movement caught my attention and I looked away from the restaurant to behold an awesome sight. Satan stood before me in all of his splendid dark glory with his uncountable demon minions trailing off behind him. I beheld the infinite. The thing was that I was not that overwhelmed. I felt like I should have melted or something dramatic like that, but I just stood there and with each passing second, I was less and less awed by the sight. Satan seemed to shrink until he was just a skinny little man. He stood five foot seven and had a big roman hooknose. He walked up to me.

"Satan is a little Italian guy," I thought. That broke the hypnosis and I laughed out loud right in Satan's face.

He didn't get angry. In fact he seemed scared. What the fuck was going on. I thought that this couldn't be the real Satan, he was too wimpy. Why was he afraid of me and why was he a skinny short grease-ball all of a sudden.

"This is his true self," the lights said, "he only seemed fearsome to you because of your own fear. Fear is like slavery, you must comply. No one can make you afraid, you must be afraid. In reality he looks like what he is, a coward, liar, thief and all that." They laughed good-naturedly. "You should see God's real self, you would shit in your pants laughing."

I wanted to get on with our business. I had delivered as I had promised. Now it was up to Satan and his minions to take care of her.

Satan stood over Sheila's unconscious body and looked down at it. He took a deep breath then suddenly looked up at me with a piercing devilish look. He was trying to intimidate me. I knew that instantly which amazed me, but before I had time to think, I looked back at him with such a look of malevolence that it even scared me a bit.

He immediately recoiled as if I had touched him with a hot poker. He took several steps back. The look on his face was like a small boy that had been severely scolded. He kept walking backwards until he finally merged with the demons in the background and disappeared from my sight.

Then a big ugly demon stepped forward and picked Sheila up in one hand by gripping her on her left shoulder. He was massive and fearsome but the strangest thing was that he looked familiar to me. I only knew one demon and that was...

He turned his head to me as he was walking away with his prize and said, "Satan forgave me and brought me back to life, now I am his personal bodyguard. You really did me a favor; I hated working behind that bar. Look, he even gave me some modifications."

He lifted his arms to show me his new body. Sheila hung limply in his left hand like a rag doll. He was twice as massive as before, his big head was even bigger, and his ugly face was even uglier, except for his nose. He had a cute ski slope nose. It seemed very out of place with the rest of his ugly demon face

"Nice modifications Sandra, great nose," I said, "maybe I will see you in hell someday."

I had meant it only as a courtesy but Sandra took it literally. "What do you mean 'maybe', you mean 'when', don't you?" He exploded into howling demon laughter.

He turned and walked back to hell dragging Sheila like a sack of shit behind him. He soon blended into the mass of demons that were waiting eagerly to pounce upon Sheila's unconscious body. They attacked her with knives, spears, claws, and teeth. They fought for the privilege of tearing out her eyes and I heard one called dibs on her tongue as he was trying to pull it out.

Then in a wink, the door between worlds closed and I was left with the light people in a quiet and peaceful clearing in the forest. I was still standing on the stump. I didn't know what to do next so I slowly came down and sat. I looked up at the lights and said, "So that's it then. Sheila is dead and it's over."

"Sheila isn't dead," they said. "She cannot be killed like a normal person but she can do no harm as long as the demons have her. They will enjoy tearing her apart over and over again for a long time."

That was the best we could do against Sheila, well the light people seemed to be happy, and then they said, "What do you want to do now, you have the whole multiverse to explore. You can choose from literally anything, you have earned it. So the thing to ask is, 'what do you want'."

I put my head down and thought about that for a while. After a few hours, I shifted in my seat and put the metal bar down. I decided to think about it for a while longer. The while turned into all night and the all night stretched for two. All that time the light people waited patiently. Finally, after two days I looked up at them and they brightened in response, "Yes?" they said.

"First I want to change my pants," I said.

"That will be no problem, there is a new pair in the stump waiting for you," they responded.

I figured that as fourth dimensional creatures they had seen into the future or reddish-blue as they called it.

"Oh no," They responded when I asked them about it, "you don't have to be from the fourth dimension to know that you need to change your pants, you stink!"

"Anything else," they asked.

"Yeah I want to go back to the lake," I told them. "I need to think about things and make some plans, something I haven't done much of in the past."

I looked at the lights but I did not see them, a sudden memory had overtaken me. A memory that stunk of rotten garbage and felt like true love.

"I am ready guys, let's go to the Western Highlands, I can rest there," I said and as I jumped. I was already thinking of how to find her again.

### THE END
