You're Walking... Walking...Walking...?

You walk... You're not sure where too. You're not sure where from. Somewhere in the back of your mind you realize this is a faint rare moment of lucidity. You want to fight to awareness. You want to fight to cognizance. But you want something... Need something... Something you're not getting... You want to feel gooooood~

You moan lewdly as your hands slip between your legs, and you fondle your engorged labia. For a moment, there's a threat of losing yourself, then you hear a voice.

"Mistress?" It's soft, and confused. "Mistress." You feel a light touch on your shoulder, and turn to see Nealie. She's bare to the world, showing off her perfectly crafted beauty. Her gentle curves, and lovely teardrop breasts. Her pouty lips, and wide open eyes. You can see every doll joint of hers as well, at her hips, waist, knees, elbows fingers... You moan lewdly, for some reason all that's just making your hornier.

You glance down and realize that you're naked too. Your pale porcelain body glimmers in the low red light of your surroundings. Your surroundings? That's... That's right. You're not where you were. You did something to escape... You jumped through the portal, and now your here. But where is here?

You look around and see that it's dark, yet for some reason you can still see. You feel as though you're in a deep cave with no roof, giant mountains and stalagmites rise up from the ground, and rolling hills extend out before you. But their form is strange to you. You hear the moaning as wind blows past a cavern, and for a moment, the contours of that hill look like two lovers strapped in the throes of ecstasy. You see a bush, at least you think it's a bush, as the longer you gaze, the more it seems to be twisting appendages, and lapping tongues. For a moment, you consider running into the lascivious flora in reckless abandon, yet you resist. You begin to make out small blue lights drifting like pollen in the summer air, and within those lights are beautiful feral imps. Boys and girls, touching, brushing, stealing kisses and more in midair.

It's not all erotic beauty though. The land is sharp, furious, and savage. Fangs grow from the earth, as if it were a living thing. For every writhing bush washed in mucus, lapping, and licking, there's a dozen more covered in barbs, hooks, horns and more. In the distance, you see a flock of orange shadows on the black vista. They drift across the distant hill and strange loping hops, despite their human forms, teasing one another and crying out in impassioned delight. You can hear their calls from where you stand, and despite their distance you feel like you're among them, as if distance has no meaning in this place. You see them titter, and grope another, their dance slowly devolving into a wanton orgy.

You shake your head and stagger back. As you hold your hands, you find your hands are covered in hairline fractures, thin black spiderwebs across your distressed porcelain body. Your feet are similarly stressed. How long have you been traveling? You stop, and find yourself standing against a tree. It looks tall, proud, leafless, but not dead. Instead from every knot and orifice a tentacle reaches out grasping, and groping for any that draw too near.

You stagger away, your senses returned. This is a realm of lust. Longing is in the air you breath. Need is in the water you drink. The ground itself rises up in tantric hunger.

You stand amidst this mad, wonderful, orgasmic world of promise. The faintest part of your mind tells you to escape. To remember yourself. To remember your vision, your purpose... But which way do you go?