Timeline A, or Wanserou's Party Favors for Freakers

The Ex-Goddess of Whims, Extre, was perhaps not in her clearest of heads as she solidified her decision to take a "watch and wait" approach on her friend's misfortune. Klotho had a long, long history of withholding the goods from Extre (although less so than Extre herself knew), and as such, the ex-goddess thought she was well within her rights to sit back and enjoy the show for a while. It'd also be fun to see the woman deal with swapping out her thin, model proportions for a big dump-truck ass for a while. This was what others would call a once in a lifetime experience, but which she recognized as something closer to a once in a timeline experience. That meant that, ultimately, once it was all over, she'd end up with no memories this ever happened. If the consequences weren't permanent, she might as well enjoy it while she could, right?

A lot of factors went into Extre's decision to leave well enough alone. In contrast, no thoughts at all were pouring into Klotho's inspired decision to keep twerking and bouncing her ass at the behest of their host-turned-hostess. The red-headed hottie wore a half-asleep, dull expression on her face as her eyes remained rooted on the scrolling binary code presented on the blackboard before her. She was stationary, hypnotized, and utterly without her senses. Her hind-quarters, however, were the opposite of stationary, now moving in a mechanical rhythm along with the club's music. It bounced up and down in a rapid flurry, not letting the mini-skirt find a chance to settle over her cheeks, before settling into a more classic "pop" that caused her newly thickened cheeks to hit together and produce an audible clap.

"Round of applause for our guest tonight! I mean, this ain't all her, but she's a fast learner, right? Guess that's enough to get you on the front of Myth!" the female-form Wanserou cackled, making fun of her captive by forming a 90 degree angle with each of her hands like a camera frame and placing them around Klotho's twerking bottom. The others all gave the round of applause Wanserou had asked for. If it was a one-sided humiliation, that would be a strange enough sight, but the way the hostess herself was wearing next to nothing and shaking her ass along with the captive made it a truly confusing scene. The pair of emojis on their side-by-side butts winked and blushed in turn, seeming like an accurate portrayal of their actual emotions. "I think she's getting real used to it. Well, I like to mix things up, personally, almost as much as I like all of you, my homies. Ya'll enjoying the party so far, right? Well, it's only just getting started!"

Wanserou raised one hand and clicked her fingers, flourishing her hand along with a sudden shift of the lights. The neon blue all around the photo-shoot stage began strobing an eye-searing, seizure inducing white, while images of emoji popped up all around. Not limited to just winks and blushes now, these including several hand gestures that became lewd with the addition of sweat drop emotes and eggplants, an eclectic mix of things that were strictly in the realm of uncomfortable sexts. The blackboard was flashing the same white as the rest of the lights, reflected in Klotho's pretty white eyes. She climbed up onto the desk she'd been leaning over in a trance, as though she needed to get her face closer to the blackboard's hypnotic screen. When she finished her path, she ended up straddling the desk with her arms clutched around it and her bottom in the air, still jerking in time with the music, and her legs hanging off of either side.

"If there's one thing ya'll know to expect from me, it's some good ass party favors. Well, in this case, the party favor is literally good ass!" Wanserou gassed herself up, throwing one hand down to strike Klotho across her raised buttocks. The other girl's face showed no reaction at all, even though a red hand-print was slowly forming where her palm had struck down. "Come on down here and partake. I'm spreading the love!" To punctuate the statement, the God of Technology grabbed the God of Timeline's raised ass-cheeks and pulled them apart to either side, showing a bit of her especially private hole, barely hidden by the coverage of her panties from this angle. "Hey Miss Myth Magazine, lemme ask you: you ever taken it up the ass?" The hostess pulled a microphone with a glowing blue head out of nowhere, then held it up to the other girl's lips.

"... Yes..."

Extre raised an eyebrow. She had? When? Everyone at Clockwork Eden thought the lady of the house was a chaste virgin. Even if Klotho could lie right now, why would she lie about this?

Wanserou grinned, looking less surprised but more delighted. "Not bad! How many times, would you say?"

"... Lost count... a lot... I like it in my... ass..." As Klotho answered, a string of drool ran from her lower lip to her chin, and she was powerless to recognize it or wipe it away. Her enhanced assets continued to bob up and down with a mind of their own-- the only mind to be found anywhere on her person.

The crowd erupted in cheers as Wanserou held the microphone away and raised her arms victoriously. "Likes it in the ass, folks! So this is a service for her, too, not just you guys! Everybody, come on down, single-file line! Remember, rubber up before you get your party favor! This girl's my .SRV now, I don't want my seconds that sloppy, if you know what I mean." She held the microphone up to her own lips and flipped her drill-tipped blue hair with a big grin. "Of course, I won't be satisfied if I don't handle a few of ya'll personally. So form two lines-- one behind her, one behind me. I'm the party princess that never stops giving and ya'll know I like it in my godly asshole!"

Extre's eyes went wide and she found herself talking to the person next to her without really looking at them. "What the fuck? Wanserou lets his guests fuck him in the ass? Seriously?" she questioned with an incredulous look on her face. "Does he have some wires crossed or something?"

The stranger, a woman in the garb of some exotic dancer or genie, complete with a ghostly tail where her bottom half ought to be (but the top very much accounted for with a heavy bosom), nodded in response to the question. "Well, when Wanserou's like this, it's 'her,' not 'him.' But yeah, Wanserou has some pretty strange tastes these days, alright." The genie gave a long sip of her cocktail, as though drowning out some sort of secret they might give away otherwise. "The party people aren't going to complain, though. Now Wanserou's more like their friend with benefits-- all the same advantages of getting in good with a few obvious additions. I'd say it's actually made her parties more popular than ever." She sighed, sounding less jazzed about this than her breadth of knowledge implied she should be. "Popular enough to embolden her to do something like this."

"Hey, are you one of his... what'd he call it... like, dot-s-r-v or whatever?" Extre questioned, stirring her own drink and raising an eyebrow. She wasn't totally sure she was comfortable with watching her friend get ass-fucked by a conga line, even in a timeline that was about to be erased. That was more out of jealousy that like twenty guys were about to stick something in Klotho when she'd been trying to get her fingers or a strap-on in there for years. Extre was getting ready to turn her dial on Wanserou, release Klotho, and fix all of this.

"I am. My name's Jenny. I was tasked with finding the source of a power surge-- that is, a recent usage of another god's powers that registered on the grid. I perform that and many, many other functions for Wanserou. It's not that I want to, but... I don't really have a choice," the genie spoke quietly. "I really am sorry. It's not that I want to do this, it's that as long as I'm tied to Wanserou, the most I can do is have some fun at his expense. I can't let you do whatever you came to do with those dials, though."

Extre realized all at once that the situation had gone from "bad but in a sexy way that I'm going to exploit for a while and then reverse" to "bad in a way that may become completely irreversible." The ex-goddess, still with all of her old powers, produced a dial in each hand, with her thumbs directly on top of the triangular knubs used to set them.

Before she could even flick her thumbs, the neon red ribbons encircling her arms snaked down to her fingers, wrapping her hands tightly so that she had no mobility of fingers or thumbs. "Oh, you bitch!" Extre cursed, as the serpentine coils dragged her arms behind her and wrapped them there, joining with the choker at her neck to form a triangle shape down her back. The dials she'd dropped fell to the floor, rolling to the side past her high heels and then falling off the balcony, down to the first floor below.

"I am sorry. It was a bad idea to try to use powers inside the digital world. In this place, Wanserou-- and by extension, the RNGesus program within me-- are more powerful than any god. Even the goddess of necromancy couldn't flaunt her powers here. The snap of a finger or the blink of an eye is nothing compared to god of technology's processing speed," Jenny explained. Once Extre was left with nothing but her sassy mouth to fight back with, the genie placed one hand up to her ear. "It's done, Wanserou. I found the source of the power spike. Yes, you were right. It was the blonde one. Yes. I'll take her to you."

"And here she is! The extra level! The ex-goddess, Extre!" Wanserou led her boys in a cheer, raising the bright blue microphone into the air as Extre was hauled into line with Klotho.

The genie, carrying her through the air via some sort of digital magic, unceremoniously deposited her over one of the desks. The fishnets on her legs had turned into restraints just like the bands on her arms had, now forming two more peaks connecting to the arms and effectively hog-tying her as she lay on her stomach. She'd lost the heart-shaped glasses at some point.

"Look, I'm not as much of a freak as you guys think," Wanserou continued, then stuck her tongue out once again and turned her eyes into smiling crescents. "Ha ha! Well, I am a freak, but just in the good way. This other stuff? It's self-defense! What am I supposed to do, huh, when you two roll up on me and I start detecting spikes of god power and shit? I ain't stupid! I know what it means when I've got two gods all up in my business. Either ya'll have beef with me or ya'll or working for someone who does. I've got a lot of friends, but I've got plenty of enemies too."

Wanserou hadn't fully gathered the reason why Klotho and Extre had showed up-- the "Big-Game Hunting" as Klotho had dubbed it-- but she had managed to detect that the two of them were dangerous. The rest had all come naturally: the guy took a little break to figure things out with Jenny, programming a mind control sub-routine like the genius that he was, he swapped out his body and clothes for that of a slutty shortstack Japanese cutie, then she came here to change the planned photo-shoot into its current, much raunchier form.

"Feels like... something in that doesn't quite add up. But whatever," she dismissed the thought, though part of her was wondering why she'd slipped up on her own pronouns.

What was important now was entertaining her guests! "Let's get Miss Myth Magazine's Extre-Special Friend into something that fits for the game." Wanserou snapped her fingers once again, dismissing the already eye-catching pink dress and replacing it with an ensemble to match her own.

Extre's clothes changed to a sleeveless blouse top with a very deep cleavage cut, unbuttoned several down to allow her double-Ds to jiggle all they wanted as she thrashed around on the desk. The short skirt was swapped out for a tight, silk mini-skirt, like a much shorter version of a school-teacher's ensemble, in neon-lit blue to match the other two girls'. Her glasses remained heart-shaped, but changed to blue to match the others. She was no longer hog-tied, but she was once again bound, now with blue tech tape securing her wrists under the front of the desk and her thighs spread down towards the back. The only hint of pink from her original outfit was the dial she still wore in her hair as an accessory.

The skirt hadn't been on her for two seconds before it began to ride up to match the other girls', hastened on by her squirming in an attempt to break free. Like the other girls, she wore a very snug set of cotton panties, illuminated with a neon emoji set on the back. Hers went from an angry face to one with a censor bar over it's mouth, shooting out steam with fury. Once again, it seemed like a fitting choice, as the face bouncing around on her shapely bottom matched her real face rather closely, and her language remained worthy of censorship.

"Not totally sure we need to crank up the size on her like we did for the timelines goddess. She's already got a booty you could bounce a bitcoin off of," Wanserou whistled, placing one hand down on her captive's exposed cheek and grabbing up a handful of it. She released it with a pleasant jiggle, then gave it a few smacks. "Aged like a fine wine, dayum! You like wine, right?"

"Forget it! I dig the new look, and ordinarily, flattery would get you everywhere with me. But even tied down like this, I'm still way out of your league, girl," Extre responded, trying to sound cocky despite her vary obvious attempts to wriggle free from her bindings. At this point, the only thing she had going for her was that she was smart enough not to let the blackboard take her brain away from her the way it had Klotho.

"That right? Well, doesn't really matter anyway. What matters is if you're in their league! If any of ya'll like your women with some years on 'em, take the line to the right. If you're into some of that freaky sailor fuku jailbait shit, though, me and Miss Myth Magazine got you covered," the female-form Wanserou laughed, now placing her own hands on her butt, pulling it up, and releasing it with another crowd-pleasing jiggle. Once she was all finished, she took her spot back on the left light-up desk, wiggling her bottom as she got nice and comfy on her stomach.

The lines were forming, now split into three. A few .SRV programs distributed neon-blue condoms to any interested males, giving their erect, throbbing dicks an otherworldly glow that matched the rest of the setting. Jenny stood at the blackboard, summoning up a piece of chalk. She didn't physically use it-- that would be too low tech. Instead, she floated across the board, magically summoning up the names of the contestants: Wanserou, Klotho, and Extre, in that order.

"What's a party without games, right? Listen up, all you freaky fuckers! It's time to find out who has the best ass in the building. Is Extre, with her veteran derriere that looks like it's got plenty of miles on it? Is it Klotho, with that brand-spankin' new booty I gave her on loan? Or is it yours truly, the reason for the season, the first-class ass that brings all the boys to class?" The hostess's voice reverberated throughout the club, even over the thrumming of the world's most high-tech speaker system. "Each of us will collect your condoms-- when you're done, just leave 'em wherever you want. Jenny'll take count, cause being a former-human turned calculator is about the only thing she's good for, besides having massive digital titties. This way, you all get to vote, and eeeeverybody gets a turn!"

Three especially eager minor gods who'd pushed their way to the front of the crowd, each decked out in their finest snake-skin jackets and expensive watches, but without the modesty to keep their dicks tucked into their slacks, took up position behind each of the girls. The three girls each offered a unique and exciting flavor for the party-goers. The bratty, newly feminized Wanserou, biting her lip with anticipation and jiggling her cheeks as if taunting them. The brain-numbed Klotho, an elegant goddess reduced to a plaything that knew nothing but how to bounce her ass in perfect timing with club music. And finally, the relatively defiant Extre, who, despite being a hottie and ordinarily in the market for a good fuck, was most unhappy about her current circumstances.

"You like it in your ass too?" the guy behind her questioned, placing one hand on her the seat of her panties, right as the emoji turned to an angry face.

"Actually, no, if you can believe it," she answered, rolling her eyes and wishing she had the freedom of her legs to punctuate that sentence by kicking him in his dangling balls. "I'd actually be tickled pink if you'd use my vagina instead."

The guy did seem to be considering it, but when he looked back at the blackboard, he shook his head. "Nah. Board says it's an Ass Race. That'd break the rules."

"Real stickler for ethics, are ya, buddy?"

"On your marks, get set..." Wanserou started off, speaking into the microphone now mounted in front of her desk by a metal stand. A similar microphone appeared in front of each of the other girls, to make their sex moans as public as possible. "Wait, just a moment. Not quite ready yet!"

The .SRVs on each side approached, each carrying a small, transparent bottle of oil. With sexy smiles plastered onto their faces, hiding whatever actual feelings the human souls underneath might be feeling, they opened the bottles, setting the caps down on the corners of the desks. Then, they each coated two of their fingers with the cool, dripping oil, before setting the bottle aside with the cap. Finally, each grabbed the panties of one of the show-girls, then gently eased them down underneath the cheeks to reveal the bare asses.

The crowd loudly cheered along with the show. It wasn't just the ones in front who could see- monitors all round the club were giving everyone a good look at all three girls exposed undersides, including a nice look at the slit. Wanserou's was already sopping wet. Klotho's looked like it was lightly drooling, just like her mouth. Extre's looked like it was going to need some help getting there.

Instead of moistening up that part, the .SRVs each grabbed hold of a cheek and pulled it aside, revealing the puckered asshole of each girl. With a slowness that was either gentle or torturous depending on one's preference, each stuck their oiled up fingers inside, lubing up the goddesses for the entertainment that was to come.

"Mmm... That's the way," Wanserou giggled, wiggling her hips slightly at the sensation of being entered from behind. "Even an omnipotent god like me doesn't want it too raw, y'know?"

Extre hadn't felt anybody's fingers in her for too long. She'd forgotten how pleasant it was. Part of her was deciding it might not be so bad to enjoy this, if she was really locked into it. It was lucky for her that she swung both ways, because the gentle lead-up with two womenly fingers was about to end. The hand back there was replaced by a gentleman's meaty cock, the shaft rubbing up and down between her exposed cheeks.

"Now let's make some goddess-fuckin' noooooise!" Wanserou shouted into her microphone, wearing an excited grin as she leaned forward on the desk, putting her lips right up to her audio and making it as loud as possible. Her face was displayed on one screen and her ass on another, along with a score (currently 0), as the guy behind her took the cue to slide himself in. He was a lot less gentle than the .SRV had been a moment ago, and as his girthy cock went inside her, Wanserou's face turned from a teasing grin to a cross-eyed expression of momentary alarm. "Oooh fuck. Nice cock, bro..."

The guy behind her smiled awkwardly at the compliment. Hearing that kind of talk from Wanserou made it too easy to remember that at one point, his relationship with this girl had been completely different. He ended up getting off to a slow start, hesitating as he remembered the decidedly masculine person Wanserou used to be.

Klotho, in the mean time, had no words to offer. Her girlish voice still came out, but just in a long moan, as a stranger's rod sunk into her from behind, forcing her forward on the desk so that her cheek hit the microphone itself.

"Thought she'd be tighter," the man behind her quipped, grabbing hold of her narrow waist and plowing her newly thickened hips with gusto. "Guess she ain't so high class!"

"Heh, I like 'em sloppy," the third guy laughed, plunging himself into Extre without a lot of ceremony. "This one's got that soft, squishy feeling like she's got some mileage on her already!"

"I swear, do you actually not remember- grk- Wanserou making that--- uff--- exact same joke like--- fff--- a minute ago?" Extre questioned, struggling to snap back effectively as her cheeks were getting clapped. "Dude you are like, not good at ass stuff."

The insult earned her another form of ass-stuff, that being a really hard slap across the broad, jiggly surface of her creamy white bottom. "Shut it! Why can't you be nice and quiet like your girlfriend, huh?" Annoyed, the guy leaned over her further and began driving himself in harder, reaching out one hand to clap it over her mouth so she couldn't continue insulting him.

The video game scores on the screens in front of each girl slowly increased, perhaps responding to pleasure or some other stimulus. Underneath, though, the main count was still 0, waiting for the first of the men to blow his load and deposit his condom.

"Yeah, Freddy! Fuck yeah! Fuck me like you fuck my .SRVs! Fuck me like I'm a slut!" Wanserou begged, loudly sex-crying into the microphone.

It was having the opposite effect on her partner, who was having a harder and harder time not thinking of the Asian shortstack he was fucking as being his old clubbing pal. "Nah, wait. This is uh... Fuck, I dunno if I can do this."

"Fuck you mean you can't do this?" Wanserou questioned, suddenly wearing a scowl instead of a sex face. "Jenny, get the Firewalls over here to beat the shit out of Freddy and stick him in the Recycle Bin until he remembers whose party he's at, alright? I'm the party princess and if I say 'fuck me' you say 'how hard!' It ain't that difficult!"

Before the guy could protest, he was dragged away, leaving another to take his place. This one, realizing the trouble that was waiting if he chickened out like his predecessor, went in hard and passionate, hunching over the girl Wanserou's form and driving himself in without a second's delay. He brought his hands down under her and felt up her huge tits, an element sadly neglected in this very ass-focused game.

While Wanserou loudly voiced her approval, Klotho babbled into her microphone, barely forming words. "People... watching... cameras... need to... film this..." she spoke incoherently between her own girlish gasps. Her gasps quickened as the guy behind her wrapped his arms just under her perky breasts and began ramming it in faster, coming to a climax. "Need... tape... need... to tape! Aaaah!" she cried, throwing her head back as the first condom ballooned up inside of her, engorged by the man's semen. "What a... waste..." she sighed softly, as if she was in the process of forgetting a particularly nice wet dream.

The guy pulled himself free, then pulled off his condom. "Damn, she's totally out of it, huh?" he murmured, dangling the spent condom in front of her face. When she didn't react, he placed it between her lips, then closed her jaw down, forcing her to bite down on it. Even that didn't seem to get much of a reaction out of her. Even now, she was still mechanically twerking her hips up and down, bouncing her cheeks. "Ya fuckin' lobotomized her!"

Jenny cleared her throat. "Ahem, no. Speaking from experience, she's probably only like this until Wanserou's finished reprogramming her. Though... I doubt she'll be the same person she was once he's finished, either way," she admitted, while recording the first score for Klotho.

To the right side, Extre was moaning around the fingers of the now-enthusiastic third man, who'd gotten what he wanted out of her: an experienced slut. She didn't need mind control or anything like that to lean back into the joy of sex, once she got a taste for it. Sure, she was a natural dom, but she was also a bit of a switch, and she wasn't immune to the taboo pleasure of being ass-fucked in front of a crowd. "Ya like that?" the man asked, giving her another hard slap on her now red and raw buttocks.

"No, fuck you! I told you I don't! You suck at this!" She wasn't exactly a masochist, but she did find that the more she insulted the guy, the more he put his back into it, and that was appealing.

He put more than his back into it now, grunting with exertion as he filled up a balloon inside her asshole. She clenched her teeth with an indignant expression, struggling to hold back the moan that would surely gratify the bastard if she let it out, but her squirting pussy pretty much gave her away anyway. A little puddle was left on the desk between her legs when he drew away from her. He tucked the used condom in the back of her skirt.

Ironically, despite having devised the game, Wanserou had ended up 0-1-1 on the scoreboard at this point. She made it very, very apparent to the guy fucking her that she expected him to close the gap, wrapping her legs around him to help him along.

In the mean time, one of the others, still waiting in line, knelt down, noticing something distinctly not blue lying on the floor of the game's stage. Whatever it was, it looked valuable... some kind of pink gemstone, about the size of a fist. He turned it over in his hand once, then looked closer at the face. All around it, miniature words were chiseled in, but they seemed to shift constantly, as if responding to somebody's thoughts. He rubbed his eyes, trying to tell if he was imagining it.

Once he got a better look at some of the options, his curiosity became piqued. He tried shifting the dial to another setting.

Wanserou, a little mortified by ending up at the back of the leaderboard at her own party, made up her mind to close the gap by cheating a little. "Hey, Lando. Tell Jimmy behind you to get over here and fuck my face." It was intended to be a whisper, but it came out a little too obviously thanks to the placement of the microphone.

"You got it, boss," the man answered, then turned to pass on the message. There was no need to; he'd heard loud and clear.

"Aaaaah, there he is! Get in here," Wanserou giggled, her eyes shining with excitement as she greeted her friend with a big grin. Her lips parted and her jaw hung open, allowing her tongue to lull out from her mouth over her shocking, bright blue lipstick. She swirled her tongue a few times, so noisily that the sound reverberated through the club, boosted by the microphone. "You know I love sucking cocks, bro!"

"Yeah. Hey, actually, that's good. Call me 'bro,'" Jimmy agreed, snatching up a handful of Wanserou's brightly lit, neon-blue hair in each fist after pushing aside the microphone stand. "Actually, nah. Call me 'big bro.'"

"You got it! I'm nothing if not a gracious host. Stick that big, veiny cock down my throat, big bro," Wanserou agreed, spurred on by the messed-up, sex-crazed logic Jenny had planted into her head as a joke. Before the party princess could make things any weirder, Jimmy took away her speech ability by sticking his glowing blue dick between her lips, filling up her throat. Wanserou may not have been able to talk like this, but the noise didn't let up-- the sloppy sounds of her drooling around her buddy's thrusting cock were loud throughout the increasingly horny club and the image was still displayed on every screen. Her eyes crossed, watching the shaft go in and out of her own mouth, as she was simultaneously taken from the front and the back.

This did, ultimately, help close the gap-- Jenny apparently counted it as another point when both men ended up emptying themselves into their condoms. The number went up to two, not that anyone but Wanserou really seemed to be concerned with the score.

When more men showed up to take each position, Wanserou shook her head at the guy in front. "Nah uh, do it without the condom this time. I need that actual dick taste."

"You got it, boss," the man agreed, peeling off his condom to expose his raw member.

Wanserou slid it up and down her cheek, stroking it in a loving way that seemed wholly out of character with the Wanserou they all knew. She sure wasn't lying about anything she was saying about her preference for cocks... not that any of them quite knew what to attribute the change to.

Elsewhere, the others realized they could do just the same with Klotho, moving to take ass and face. Extre, on the other hand, protested. "I am not drunk enough to get spit-roasted right now," she complained, as one of them waved a dick back and forth in her face.

The new guy behind her leaned over with some curiosity, noticing a pronounced change on the accessory holding her pony-tail up. Right now, it just displayed two choices: Yes or No. With a confused frown, he grabbed the dial, spinning it from "No" to "Yes."

Extre breathed in deeply, then sighed, causing her noteworthy bosom to push up beneath her. "You know what? Screw it. I guess I do want to suck you off," she told the one in front of her, not realizing that her whims had just been swapped over. "When in Rome, right? Suck cock like the Romans did." That was all the allowance the guy needed: he grabbed hold of her shoulders, leaned her a little further off the desk, and stuck himself in, smearing her lipstick up and down his member as he pulled his length in and out of her mouth.

The three girls serviced relative strangers noisily for what felt like a solid hour, collecting more condoms. Wanserou ended up behind again, not realizing that taking her face-fucks raw meant that they wouldn't count towards her score. In the end, Klotho would perhaps be pleased to know that she was voted the best lay in the club by a jury of its club-goers, if she could still know anything at all.

Each of the girls was bent over a desk, virtually (pardon the pun) coated in semen. Wanserou's regal, drill-tipped hair was now littered with used condoms that guys had begun to find fun to tie in there. Klotho had been stripped of the remainder of her clothes and her panties thrust over the upper part of her head from the bridge of her nose, the final act of a couple of guys trying to test the limits of her non-responsiveness. Extre had gotten riled up at people underestimating her and, perhaps aided by the mental suggestion of one guy constantly turning her dial, had decided it was a good idea to lie on her back and take two cocks, one in her vagina and one in her ass. This made for a decidedly less pleasant view on the monitors.

The one guy who'd found Wanserou's dial had joined up with the Extre crowd, who were going on about the possibilities of the dial in her hair. They'd since pulled it out, allowing her blond hair to fan out wildly behind her. As they compared hers and Wanserou's, a third man produced a third dial, which none of them had seen before. "Whose is this one?"

"I don't know. Only has two options on it."

"Well, only good things seem to happen when we use them. Give it a shot. Maybe it makes that genie take her top off."

The guy turned the dial without paying attention to the words, shifting the needle from "Submit" to "Jump."

Somewhere deep inside Klotho's mind, two key aspects of her original character were waging war.

In the left corner, the well-satisfied, content, and happy part of her that was a hardcore masochist, drooling not only at the physical stimulus constantly rocking her slender frame, but also the situational ecstasy of being tricked, brainwashed, tied down, and turned into a fuck-toy for countless strangers. She'd enacted a lot of fantasies on her various tapes, but never had she gotten so carried away, so unsafe, and fully satisfied her masochistic tendencies in this way. All of this rough sex, broadcast onto a bunch of TV screens and a loud microphone set-up for everyone to see and hear, was "the cat's pajamas."

In the right corner, the increasingly irate part of her that recognized she'd spent eons cultivating her perfect image: a respected, chaste, intelligent, savvy girl-boss who would never let low class guys like this into her dimension, let alone into her asshole. This momentary flight of fancy was ruining everything! Sure, she did like sex, and sure, she actually did film herself doing all kinds of ridiculous antics, but that was on her own terms. Wanserou-- or perhaps whoever was manipulating Wanserou-- had beaten her! Instead of "Big Game Hunting," she'd become the hunted! She'd become a trophy to be displayed in a trophy room, but worse, because it's being humped by all of the guests.

As the two sides of her slugged it out, the masochistic side always having maintained a slight edge, ever since she pretended that she didn't see the danger of bending over for a photo-shoot... something changed. Her indignant anger flared up. That was enough! "Look at us! We're not even getting a sex tape from all of this! This, my dear, is what we call a bad investment!'" she ranted, punching the lights out of her other side. The other side probably enjoyed that! Shameless.

Against her natural tendencies, which were quite delighted at this rare opportunity to be made an open spectacle in front of a group of surly strangers, Klotho decided it was time to jump.

"What a horrid timeline," she sighed, half with disgust, half with reverence. "This vulgar, disarmingly blue place is no Clockwork Eden." The world suddenly stretched out, the people becoming cartoonish, warped caricatures of themselves all around her and the neon blue lights becoming lasers, trailing off into the horizon. The sex noises, the laughter of the audience, the moaning of Ms. Extre, the disarming 'big bros' of the host-turned-hostess, all faded into distance.

"On to Timeline B. We've had our fun with A." Klotho's panties slid off of her head and replaced themselves on her lower body. The rest of her schoolgirl outfit slowly redressed itself, then replaced itself with the clubbing outfit she'd been wearing before all of the photoshoot nonsense. "Let's choose a future that is a little more dignified. Well... dignified for me, anyway. Turnabout is fair play," the woman finished with an elegant, angelic smile that did not at all match her plans for what to do with the God of Technology.

Time stretched all around her and then displaced, like a railroad switching tracks. She wasn't just riding the timeline now-- she was weaving it. Turning Wanserou into her plaything, to be permanently enshrined in Clockwork Eden, would mean going back to a more pivotal moment in time, one where she could effectively manipulate Wanserou's future. Extre would come with her, of course. "That whole debacle just now was a valuable hint. Now I know just how to make Wanserou see the true value of my consultation services! Ha ha ha... Aaaah ha ha ha ha haaa!"

The goddess of timelines unleashed a diabolical laugh intended only for her own ego, almost powerful enough to drown out the image of her drooling into her own panties a moment ago and the stinging of her well-used butt.