But as I concentrated, as my arousal began to build in response to the fantasy taking shape in my mind, the image shifted. It took on a life of its own, warping away from my conscious control.
The man I imagined grew larger, more imposing. His expression hardened into something cruel, something hungry. Where I had tried to picture tenderness, I saw instead an appetite that would not be denied.
No, I thought desperately.That’s not what I want. That’s not?—
But my body betrayed me. To my horror, my pussy clenched, responding to the dark fantasy with shameful intensity. My hand moved of its own accord, slipping down the front of my pants, finding that slick, swollen place between my thighs.
I couldn’t stop. The protocol required concentration, commitment: this state of heightened awareness, and my body had seized control. My fingers worked frantically as the fantasy consumed me.
He was bending me over, this cruel man from my imagination. I could feel his hand coming down hard across my bottom, again and again, punishing me for my disobedience, for daringto summon him. I was crying, begging him to stop, but he didn’t listen. He never listened.
And then he was behind me, and I felt the enormous head of his cock pressing against my virgin entrance. I begged him to wait, to be gentler, but he thrust forward anyway, breaching me, taking what he wanted with no regard for my pleasure.
The fantasy was terrible and perfect and I couldn’t stop, couldn’t pull back, couldn’t regain control. My climax built with terrifying speed, my fingers working desperately as the reactor’s hum grew louder, more insistent.
As the orgasm crashed through me, I felt something tear in the fabric of reality itself.
The air in front of me shimmered, then darkened. Energy coalesced, taking shape, solidifying into flesh and bone and muscle.
When my vision cleared, when I could finally focus through the aftershocks of pleasure, I saw him.
An enormous man stood before me—ifmanwas even the right word. His skin was jet black, so dark it seemed to absorb the light around him. He was nearly seven feet tall, his shoulders broad, his musculature powerful and perfectly defined. His eyes were completely black, without any visible pupils, yet I could feel them fixed on me with an intensity that made my breath catch.
And between his legs, already fully erect, was a cock that made even Alpha’s seem modest.
“Well,” he said, his voice deep and resonant, carrying a quality that seemed to vibrate through my entire body. “What do we have here?”
I tried to speak, tried to explain, but no words would come. My hand was still down my pants, my fingers slick with my need. The neural controller’s electrodes were still attached to my temples. And before me stood a being I had summoned from the quantum foam itself—a being shaped not by my conscious desires but by my darkest fantasies.
What had I done?
