With the de-monsterization procedure complete, the massive blast doors of the chamber unlocked with a heavy whoosh. The railgun mount retracted smoothly into the floor to clear the path for a pair of medics who rushed in wheeling a gurney between them. The medics were men, not futas. The de-monsterization recovery process could be handled by ordinary humans. Besides, with quadrillions of gallons of Katie’s steamy hot jizz raining down all over the planet, there were no futas to spare. Celeste had released the command center staff shortly after her meeting with the Rainbow Council so, apart from the team of medical experts working to wake Maxine from her sex coma, Dezerea and Dr. Copwell were the only futas in the whole facility.
Celeste watched the medics load the unconscious ex-monster onto the gurney. The boy was tall and gawky with long, lanky limbs, shaggy, black hair and olive-tan skin. If it weren’t for his enormous whangdoodle of a cock —and the fact that he’d been a sixteen-foot-tall monster just a few minutes ago— he would have been a perfectly average teenaged boy.
“Seriously that kid’s cock is insane,” remarked Celeste, turning her head to follow the boy on the gurney until he was wheeled well out of sight.
“It’s not that unusual,” said Dr. Copwell, absently. She was too absorbed by the towering pillar of Dezerea’s cock to even look over at Celeste, much less the boy.
“A highschool boy with a twelve-inch flaccid cock isn’t that unusual?” scoffed Celeste.
Dr. Copwell blinked, pausing to look up momentarily from her poking and prodding around the base of Dezerea’s truly monumental member and watermelon-sized balls.
“No, I suppose that is unusual…” she amended. “I meant it’s not unusual for the subjects of de-monsterization to show an expansion of their sexual traits in proportion to the growth experienced by the participating futa.”
“De-monsterization is a two-way street,” said Dezerea, somewhat dreamily as she reached out to caress the shining surface of her towering, turgid member. “We both leave with part of each other. It’s really quite fascinating. I’ve published several papers about the phenomenon if you’re interested.”
“And considering the amount of growth we’re seeing here…” Dr. Copwell donned a pair of glasses while her artificial hand projected a laser grid across the surface of Dezerea’s shaft. A laser fan emanating from her index finger swept up and down the girl’s massive organ and presently the doctor’s glasses emitted a chirp.
She consulted the Heads Up Display in her glasses and her eyes widened. Her mouth fell into an “O” of astonishment.
“T-twenty four and three-quarters inches!” gasped the doctor. “That’s over ten inches of gain! And that’s in length alone!”
The aura of power coming off Desera was tangible in the air, like a crackle of energy. The still-woozy teenage girl flexed her fingers experimentally, marveling at the sensation of power coursing through her veins.
“No wonder the kid left here with a wonderschlong,” said Celeste.
“With this much growth I’d be curious to see if he left here with trace amounts of futa power. It’s not unheard of. After all…” She gave Celeste a meaningful look.
After all, it happened to you, didn’t it?
“Doc, can we get this hose out of my urethra now?” asked Dezerea, sitting up to reach for the catch on the seal that still secured the cum drainage hose to Dezerea’s monster cock.
“Hold on a minute.” Dr. Copwell stopped Dezerea’s hand mid reach. There was a tiny crackle of static electricity on contact and Copwell’s hair began to stand out from her head. “We should leave the hose in place for now. You’ve still got to get through The Rush.”
“The Rush?” asked Celeste.
“If a futanari makes gains of an inch or more within the space of a few hours, her mental and physical capacity expand faster than her awareness can adapt,” explained the doctor.
“It’s like… being the size of a grain of sand and suddenly finding yourself expanding out to fill the universe at the speed of light!” said Dezerea, who had the million-mile stare of a futa on the verge of the Rush at that very moment.
“It’s an extremely pleasurable experience, comparable to a prolonged, intense orgasm,” said Copwell. “Most futas ejaculate copiously during this period and —judging by the size of Ms. Deshmukh’s testes, the output is likely to be several liters or more. It will make cleanup easier if we just leave the hose attached for now.”
A long, low moan from Dezerea signaled that the Rush had begun. Inside Dezerea’s vast, vast brain, the vacuum of her expanded mental capacity pulled at her consciousness like a sucking, endless void pleading to be filled. Floating in nothingness, Dezerea felt her being expand by multiple orders of magnitude.
Suddenly problems of hyperquantum mathematics that had frustrated her for years were as simple as basic arithmetic, incomprehensible concepts that had tantalized her dreams came into sharp focus and were abandoned as laughably childish in the same instant. She felt her intellectual power grow and build on itself, an ever-expanding fractal shape that exploded in countless dimensions.
Her body was changing, too. She felt her new powers, at first only accessible as feeble, infantile shadows of their true potential, now gaining and swelling rapidly in strength and potency.
Her telepathic ability started out as a whisper, then a shout, then a roaring maelstrom as every thought in a ten-mile radius screamed inside her brain. The anti-psychic properties of the bunkers defenses dis almost nothing to muffle her senses. She was briefly overwhelmed, but in just a few hours of subjective time she found she was able to perfectly discern and retain every detail of every distinct thought of every one of the tens of thousands of people inside her sphere of awareness.
That was another thing she’d gained: a new kind of awareness. A “second sight” related to her psychic powers. This “psysight” allowed her to see in perfect clarity anything and everything around her for miles and it was with no more effort than it took to focus her vision that she could perceive any point in the city and examine it down to the molecular level.
She saw the battle going on in the city outside as her classmates struggled to evacuate the city ahead of the catastrophic oceans of cum falling from the sky. She saw Maxine twitching atop a belly stuffed with Katie’s hyper-cum.
She could feel the sperm churning faster and faster inside her colossal nuts and discovered she could reach inside herself and rearrange the genetic code of her sperm cells as she saw fit…. For the most part. One part of the sequence seemed unalterably fixed despite her best efforts. She spent many subjective hours playing with and rearranging the code into new and interesting configurations.
The more she played with her powers, the more pleasurable the sensations of growth became. She seemed to spend days and weeks touching and experimenting with her new abilities, with each new discovery bringing her untold joy.
Outside in the real world, only a few seconds had passed.
“This is… t-this is…” Dezerea thrashed and bucked on the slab as her mind exploded inside her brain. Celeste and Copwell looked on with concern, unsure how or if they should intervene.
“F-f-fuuuuuuuuuck!” Dezerea’s back arched and her watermelon-sized balls clenched beneath her shaft with a sound like a pair of dams bursting. The pressure inside them was enough to crush a submarine down to the size of a pea. Her shaft swelled like a beercan about to burst and there was an explosion of white liquid as the hose on the end of her cock bulged alarmingly. Pinhole leaks erupted all along the hose’s length, tiny, straight beams of white that sliced through everything they touched until they impacted the macromolecular armor that lined the walls of the secure bunker. A white thread of ultra-high-pressure jizz slashed across Dr. Copwell’s face and might have bisected her head if Celeste hadn’t stepped in its path in a motion so fast she didn’t even leave a blur.
A few severed strands of Copwell’s brown hair drifted down and landed in the ankle-deep sludge of cum that was rapidly spreading from the base of the restraint slab. Celeste’s arm was barely even dimpled by the twenty-ton pinprick trying to bore through her skin.
Dr. Copwell stood watching the spectacle, frozen in awe. She didn’t even seem to notice how close she’d come to having the top of her head sliced off by a high-pressure cum-cutter.
Even with all the jizz pouring out from around the edge of the nozzle on Dezerea’s cock, there was still a massive amount pouring into the tank. A white deluge gushed into the towering glass tank with a deafening roar. Within just a few seconds the tank had filled from the three-thousand gallon mark to the forty-thousand gallon mark and showed no signs of slowing down.
“I-it’s okay, that’s what the backup tanks are for,” said Dr. Copwell, her mouth twitching as she fought to hold back a hysterical laugh.
An alarm blared and suddenly both backup tanks began to fill at the same time. In the space of a single heartbeat, they were over a quarter full. Then the flow rate doubled.
“Where’s it all coming from?” Copwell asked, her voice inaudible over the Niagara-falls roar of rushing jizz.
Celeste looked over at Dezerea. The petit teen was insensate, gibbering and spasming uncontrollably on the slab as her unfathomably prolific testes throbbed rhythmically against her bulging shaft.
The tanks were almost full. The last sliver of empty space at the top of the transparent cylinders disappeared in the same second a spiderweb of cracks flashed across the glass like jagged lightning.
Dr. Copwell didn’t even have time to shout her warning “That’s not diamond-glass!” before the tanks exploded and everything was drowned in white.
The tidal wave of cum blasted Celeste and Copwell to the far edge of the chamber. It swept over Dezerea, knocking her off the slab and throwing her across the room. The hose on the end of her cock detached with a PLOOP! and Dezerea found herself suddenly rocket-propelled as the newly-unleashed force of her ejaculation imparted her with a thrust that would have made the Saturn V booster look like a cheap bottle-rocket.
The white pillar of her cum sheared through the diamond-glass monster-containment cube like a hot wire through gelatin. More alarms blared, inaudible against the three-hundred-decibel roar of Dezerea’s Krakatoa-like ejaculation.
The bunker’s defenses, reading the breach of the cube as a monster escape, sealed the exits. The level of jizz started to rise significantly faster without the drainage provided by the long hallway outside.
Moving as quickly as she dared without causing an overpressure that would be fatal to Dr. Copwell —if the doctor hadn’t already been killed when the tanks exploded— Celeste launched herself at Dezerea and seized her bulging shaft in a beefy hand. She towered over Dezerea, a bulging hulk nearly fifteen feet tall. Dezerea howled in agony, her screams piercing in the sudden silence left by the absence of the torrents of girlchowder. Her balls turned an unhealthy shade of purple as millions of tons of back-pressure built up inside.
“Get a hold of yourself!” Celeste barked at the tiny girl dangling by her cock from the immense woman’s fist.
Dezerea grimaced, fighting to regain control of her runaway body. The pain was bringing her the clarity she needed to reassert her dominance. She scraped the jizz from her eyes and looked up at Celeste through unfathomable pupils ringed by glowing, fiery-orange irises.
The intensity of the stare, so much like her daughter’s, put Celeste off balance, but she retained her hold on Dezerea’s massive shaft.
“Ffff-fffff—” Dezerea panted, her grimace slowly turning into a wolfish grin. “Ffffuck yes!”
There was a mechanical whine and a sudden stirring in the jizz over by the door. A large bulge had appeared in the surface of the roiling, shoulder-deep lake of scalding-hot girlchowder.
“Quick!” shouted Dezerea. “Let me go!”
“Not on your life,” answered Celeste, turning away from the bulge to focus on the squirming girl trying to pry her fingers apart.
“You don’t understand, it’s the anti-monster protocols! They—” Dezerea was cut off by a sudden, loud BLORP! as the five-inch, sixty-three caliber railgun broke the viscous surface of the jizz and swiveled with blinding speed to focus on Celeste and Dezerea. The gun’s cameras, partially blinded by jizz, were still accurate enough to register the silhouette of a futanari. A futanari being menaced by huge, inhuman monster.
“Sh—” Celeste got slammed full in the chest by a diamond-allotrope-tipped tungsten slug with a depleted uranium core moving at mach five. The projectile splashed against her tits like a ball of mercury, but its momentum was still enough to knock Celeste clear to the back wall. She lost her grip on Dezerea’s cum-slick cock and the girl went flying off on a rocket-plume of spunk.
The gun didn’t wait to see if its attack had been successful. It followed up its first shot with three more in rapid succession, but by the time the rounds reached their destination, it was only firing at Celeste’s imprint in the wall.
“HY GYAAAAH!” Celeste grunted as she uprooted the gun from its mount and tossed it off to the side where it landed with a muffled splash in the jizz.
Dezerea’s cumstream swept across Celeste’s back and pushed her down beneath the surface of the spunk. Celeste was easily strong enough to fight the pressure of the jizz at her back, but had become completely disoriented by the swirling current and she found herself floundering.
Got to get out! She thought, desperately. I have to get Copwell out of here, too, before the room fills up and she’s crushed by the pressure!
The 100x100x100ft cube was already three-quarters full. The flow rate of Dezerea’s cum was increasing rapidly as her body adapted to its new power level.
Dezerea struggled to think clearly against the awesome force of the orgasm that tore through her body and mind, but found she could barely even muster the desire to resist, much less actually fight the sensations that currently ruled her body. The pleasure redoubled and once again thought was swept away.
Celeste fought her way blindly through the maelstrom of spunk swirling around her. Lab equipment and ruined structural supports battered her at supersonic speeds. Shards of diamond-allotrope slashed her clothes to ribbons.
If Copwell comes out of this blender in one piece it will be a miracle! thought Celeste as she continued to grope blindly through the rushing typhoon of girlchowder.
Finally she found what she was looking for: the telltale seam of the door.
Sliding her fingers into the crack and bending the nigh-indestructible macromolecular alloy as if it were two sheets of ice cream cake, Celeste forced open the doors.
BOOOM! A million gallons of high-pressure jizz moving at Mach three exploded out into the hallway with a screaming Celeste riding the tip of the column. The spunk was moving at such speed that it was harder than stone. She smashed through the doors of the elevator at the end of the hallway and shot up the shaft like a bullet through the barrel of a gun.
She burst through the top of the mountain in an explosion of rock and jizz and sailed off into the air.
Viewed from the outside, the MCS mountain headquarters looked like an overgrown baking-soda volcano as white goop erupted from the exit wound left by Celeste’s departure and began to ooze down the slope. Hot girlchowder erupted from several more points on the mountain’s surface as the facility beneath rapidly filled with Dezerea’s hot, thick spunk.
Elsewhere in the mountain facility, the doctors in the MCS infirmary looked around in alarm as the entire room shook.
“Another impact?” asked Dr. Spenks, hurriedly steadying a tray of surgical implements.
“Impossible, the next coil isn’t due to impact the city for another thirteen minutes,” responded her colleague, Dr. Iris.
On the bed in front of them, the bulbous, cum-bloated form of Maxine jiggled like gelatin. Her cock twitched and splurted out a liter of thick, fragrant spunk that steamed as it slid down the curvature of her belly into the overflowing tray on the floor. Max let out a long, low moan as her toes curled and uncurled.
“I can only imagine what she must be feeling,” said Dr. Janes with just a touch of envy.
The moist, pulsating walls quivered around Ego and Superego Maxine as a tremor swept through the grotesquely mutated landscape of Maxine’s subconscious. Where once the supergenius futa’s internal mindscape had been a monument to rationality and order, it had become a twisted, freakish carnival of sexual depravity.
“What was that?” asked Superego, looking around nervously as the glistening tunnel contracted and writhed. She was already off-balance without access to the bulk of her intellect. Being limited to the cognitive power of a baseline human, even a particularly brilliant one, was unsettling in the extreme.
“Id is getting excited. She just absorbed another chunk of my essence,” said Ego, a little shakily. “Something swept through our higher cognitive layers. It felt like a psychic presence, but I don’t have enough awareness on that level to tell who or what it was.”
“It was probably another hapless telepath,” said Superego, shaking her head sadly. How many more minds would her rampant Id consume?
“I dunno, this felt bigger than the others. I don’t think Id was strong enough to overpower it. The struggle sure got her hot and bothered, though. She’s subjecting my primary manifestation to some pretty brutal S&M right now…” Ego winced again as her big self in the upper consciousness languished under Id Maxine’s whip.
“Then we need to move faster,” said Superego, turning to continue down the long, musky tunnel.
“Where are we going anyway?” asked Ego. The pair had been wandering the labyrinthine tunnels of Maxine’s subconscious for hours, crossing and recrossing their path as the mindscape shifted around them. Encounters with Id’s fantasy constructs slowed their progress as well. Shambling, hypersexual monsters whose only desire was to fuck the brains out of anything they saw, including each other. A few near misses had taught the pair the value of caution.
“Unallocated memory,” answered Superego. “I have a plan.”
“You do?” asked Ego, her golden, knee-length cock flopping wildly back and forth as she jogged to catch up with her more rational counterpart. “What is it?”
“I don’t know it yet,” answered Superego.
“Uhh… Are you sure you’re still functioning at baseline human intelligence?” asked Ego.
Superego threw out a hand to check Ego’s movement as they reached the end of the tunnel. She ended up grabbing a fistful of Ego’s beachball-like tits. The erect nipple against Superego’s palm was wet with milk.
“Ew, seriously?” Superego frowned and wiped the milk on the wall, which shivered lasciviously on contact.
“How can you have a plan and not know what it is?” whispered Ego, unperturbed by having her tit grabbed.
“I don’t know, but I’m betting we used to. You don’t think someone as smart as us would have foreseen this? Even as a remote contingency?” asked Superego, crouching low.
“I guess…” answered Ego.
“Trust me, if a hack porn writer who’s only a baseline human can imagine this scenario, a supergenius futa like ourselves would easily have guessed at this possibility,” hissed Superego, advancing slowly.
“That’s an oddly specific analogy, but go on,” said Ego.
“She would have made plans to deal with the situation, however unlikely. Before I lost control of my mind—”
“Our mind,” corrected Ego.
Superego rolled her eyes. “Before Id took over,” she continued, “I would have left something behind for us to find in this exact scenario. My gut tells me it’s in unallocated memory.”
“I’m not sure how much we should trust the subconscious feeling of someone’s subconscious feeling,” said Ego, skeptically.
“Shh!” Superego peered around the corner. “There’s something up ahead.”
Dark shapes writhed in the large, circular room ahead. They looked like humanoid figures rendered in translucent jelly. Ego and Superego watched the slime orgy in silence.
Inside a slimy pool at the center, erotic shapes bloomed and wrestled with one another, merging and unmerging in a hypnotic display of unfettered pleasure. Occasionally the blobs took the shape of Maxine’s classmates, or Maxine herself, or her mother and father all locked in an ever shifting orgy of color and form. It didn’t seem to matter to Id what shape her fantasies took as long as she got her rocks off. Moans and screams bubbled out of the slime blob, and every so often a surge of pleasure would wash over the entire area and set the walls quivering again.
Superego Maxine found herself growing both wet and hard in spite of her best efforts to control her libido, and she had to concentrate to keep her proportions from morphing into the same hypersexual parody of herself that Ego had manifested.
“We’ve got to get around them somehow,” said Superego. “Access to Unallocated Memory should be just beyond that door,” she said, pointing to a vagina-shaped opening on the opposite side of the domed room.
“They seem pretty preoccupied,” observed Ego, watching the lava-lamp-like dance of globular bodies. A huge, red blob reared up out of the mass, extruding itself into the shape of a towering earth-mother with Maxine’s face. The behemoth Maxine did a belly flop onto a crowd of exuberant slime-people which squirmed and screamed with delight as red tentacles enveloped and caressed them.
“Go, now!” Superego hissed.
The pair bolted, hugging the walls of the circular room to stay as far from the surging goo-orgy as they possibly could. Their passage seemed to go unmarked by the sexual ooze, which often threatened to overflow the confines of its pool, only to settle back down as the temporary satiation of climax rippled through its mass.
Each time the orgasmic waves radiated from the blob of slime, Superego felt her body change. The pulse would sweep over her and she would lose focus, finding herself drawn to the mass as her sexual organs swelled with anticipation. She couldn’t fully concentrate on moving forward and maintaining her chosen shape at the same time. With every step, her body seemed heavier as her breasts, cock, balls and buttocks expanded to match the level of arousal throbbing inside her.
Ego wasn’t doing much better. The glowing, golden giantess had to waddle bowlegged as she dragged her massive balls and constantly drooling cock across the floor.
They’d made it almost all the way around the perimeter when an overenthusiastic thrust from one of the slime-creatures accidentally scattered globs of multicolored jelly all over the room. A glob of blue jelly the size of a soccer ball landed directly on Superego’s cleavage, which by then was more than large enough to accommodate the translucent mass with room to spare.
“Hi!” it squeaked, sprouting a cute face. “Nice tits! Let’s fuck!”
“Aaah!” Maxine screamed, slapping at the blob.
“I can make you feel good!” squeaked the jelly, slipping down between her tits and wrapping itself around her cock like an onahole.
“Oooh!” Superego moaned, her knees turning to rubber as the eager slime began to jack her veiny, rock-hard organ.
“Superego!” Ego tried to rush over to her counterpart, but could barely move beneath the weight of her exaggerated anatomy. She stumbled and fell tits down, ass up, presenting her puckered butthole and slick, swollen pussy to the bulging slime blob in the center of the room.
An excited moan bubbled up out of the slime mass as a forest of tentacles sprouted from the goo, creeping their way excitedly toward Ego’s exposed holes.
“S-stop!” Superego managed to choke out before a powerful orgasm brought her to her knees. A mighty rope of jizz blasted from the tip of her arm-length cock, where it was caught and swallowed up by the slime.
Ego screamed as slime tentacles enveloped her backside and penetrated her insides. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she struggled against the creatures’ oozy caress.
Superego came again and again. With each ejaculation she felt herself shrinking as more of her essence got absorbed by the rapidly swelling blue blob, which had begun to assume a roughly human shape.
Superego grinned stupidly as the blue slime girl jammed a tentacle in her asshole, massaging her prostate and coaxing out yet another, bigger burst of cum that left her feeling several pounds lighter and several inches shorter.
“At this rate, there won’t be anything left of you!” said the blue blob, its cartoon face grinning wickedly as it metabolized more of Superego’s essence into itself.
Behind her, Ego screamed. Her already bloated body seemed to have swollen to even greater size as the goo monsters poured into her guts. Her face was barely visible between the swell of her rapidly-expanding tits and the rolls of fat that were burgeoning all over her body.
“Superego y-you’ve got to… fight fire with fire!” urged Ego, groaning as another man-sized blob of goo climbed inside her already distended and drooling cunt to join the party in her womb.
Comprehension dawned on Superego’s orgasm-addled face and she turned against the blue blob with the fire of determination in her eyes.
“Huh?” the blue blob blinked its cartoon eyes.
“I’m gonna suck you dry!” said Superego, seizing the blue blob’s throbbing jelly cock and stuffing it in her mouth. It tasted like artificial blue raspberry flavoring.
“Oooh! Yeah!” moaned the blue blob, apparently just as happy to be on the receiving end of its own treatment.
Hot goop spurted against the back of Superego’s throat and she swallowed eagerly. She felt herself growing almost immediately.
“More, more!” cried the blue blob, seizing Superego by the back of the head and forcing its jelly cock deep down her esophagus.
Being only a mental construct, Superego Maxine didn’t need to breathe, and pushed her plush lips forward to take the jelly girl to the hilt.
“Yeah!” the Blue blob squeaked. More goo splattered into the pit of Superego’s belly, where it was absorbed instantly.
Each time the blue blob came in her mouth, Superego felt herself getting stronger, smarter, taller. Finally all that was left was a disembodied cock like a transparent gel dildo that squealed with delight as it vanished down her throat.
Superego stood, feeling better than she had before. A shadow fell over her and she turned.
“AAAAH!” she screamed, throwing up her arms to shield her face as the towering blob descended on her and she was enveloped by its rubbery, slick warmth.
“Settle down, it’s just me,” said Ego, releasing the cowering imaginary girl.
Ego stepped back into the light.
She was huge. A mobile mountain of jiggling flesh. Her legs were invisible behind a pair of balls like twin minivans and a cock like a length of industrial oil pipeline. Her huge , fat belly swelled out like the nose of a dirigible and massive folds of fat spilled over broad hips and buttocks the size of a pickup truck. Each of her tits was a weather-balloon-sized orb that rested on the ground like a sleeping whale. Rivers of thick milk poured from nipples the size of traffic cones.
Atop this mountain of golden curves, Ego’s tiny head sat like a cherry on top of the world’s most hypersexual sundae.
“You’ll have to go ahead,” said Ego, wincing as something big inside her belly shifted. “I’ve still got some hnggg digesting to do.”
“R-right…” said Superego. She turned back just before she passed through the orifice. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
“I’m hurk fine,” Ego grimaced. “None of them have the strength of personality to best urp me!”
Superego nodded and dashed down the passage toward unallocated memory.
She followed the winding tunnels deeper and deeper into her mind, pausing only briefly to rest and get her bearings before pushing onward. As she left the part of her mind dedicated to active imagination and more dedicated to storage, she encountered fewer and fewer of Id’s hypersexed tulpas, and the landscape became less persistent in its attempts to waylay her passage.
Finally, she reached the rigid, vault-like doors of her long-term memory storage. Despite the pulsing, throbbing, squirting, fleshy consistency of the mindscape around it, the doors to long-term memory seemed remarkably untouched by Id’s corruption.
Maxine’s Superego breathed a sigh of relief as the spun the dials and heaved open the heavy, armored door to peer inside.
“No!” Superego fell to her knees. The vault door fell off its hinges beside her.
“No!” She screamed “Noooooooo!”
The meticulously organized and curated halls of Maxine’s long-term memory had become a towering garbage heap of chaos. Mountains of writhing nude bodies, sex toys, body parts and other sexual grotesqueries were piled in mounds as far as the eye could see, stretching off to an impenetrable haze.
“There’s supposed to be enough empty storage space here to retain the total information content of all human history a hundred times over!” Superego yelled. “And my stupid Id is filling it up with this… this crap!”
She kicked at a column of flickering televisions that towered up into the haze above her head. Each of the screens showed a looped clip of some pornographic fantasy Id had decided was worth remembering. The tower quaked and she was forced to flee as screaming, moaning TVs fell out of the sky around her. Even with the glass shattered, fragmented versions of the pornographic videos continued to play on the scattered shards.
Here and there, the old remnants of Maxine’s formerly structured memories protruded from the mess, partially fused with the twisted landscape around it.
Superego Maxine pulled open a filing cabinet embedded between a pair of disembodied tits. The papers inside seemed uncorrupted and undamaged. She breathed a sigh of relief.
There might be hope after all…
Maxine picked her way across the chaotic heaps. Once or twice, she paused to watch from a distance as gaping orifices opened up in the sky to discharge a rain of more garbage sexual fantasies cooked up by her rampaging Id.
Finally, after what seemed like hours of climbing, Superego reached an as-yet-untouched portion of her longterm memory.
The gross, surreal landscape of sex terminated abruptly on the edge of a phalanx of towering filing cabinets.
The cabinets were arranged with military precision into rows and columns that stretched off into infinity. Each block of cabinets was the size of an office building, stretching up into the fog overhead. Even if the majority of Maxine’s memory space had been given over to Id’s lewd creations, the remaining fraction of free space was still incalculaby vast.
Well, incalculable until Superego regained control of her rapidly-devolving mind that is.
Spurred on by renewed hope, Superego slid down a slope of dildos and fleshlights and took off at a run down the aisle between the mountainous storage cabinets.
She wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for, but she would know it when she found it.
In fact, she almost missed it.
The labels on all the drawers here were blank, and every drawer she checked was empty.
She’d been walking for miles before she stopped to rest, allowing herself to slide down the wall of drawers and plop her sore, bare butt down on the cool tiles of the floor.
“How would my more cognizant self have hidden a plan in such a way that someone as stupid as me could find it by searching randomly? She’d have no idea what direction I’d be coming from or what search pattern I’d use… did she expect me to just keep looking until I dropped—” A lightbulb went on over Superego’s head.
She sat up and turned slowly to look at the label of the filing cabinet directly behind her head.
The tiny index card on the front of the drawer read “contingencies” in neat typewriter font.
She yanked the drawer open. Inside was a sealed, red envelope marked “IN CASE OF ID RAMPAGE.”
This was it. This was the plan! It appeared as if Maxine had calculated the radius of her depowered Superego’s exhaustion down to the last foot!
Superego Maxine whooped with joy and dashed off back in the direction of her higher consciousness.
As the sound of her bare feet hitting the tile faded, the drawer she left open began to melt and bubble as a mass of writhing, black tentacles crept up out of its depths.
Somewhere above, Maxine’s Id chuckled.
End of Part 9