A Handy Trip Sitter

“Are you a machine elf?” you ask the glowing yellow triangle in front of you, having taken your last hit of salvia divinorum 10 seconds ago.

“SURE, TOOTS,” responds the triangle as the room melts. “I’M BILL CIPHER, the little glowing ELF.”

“Bill,” you respond telepathically, speaking from the tips of your fingers, “Aren’t machine elves supposed to appear during DMT trips?”

“YOU CAN’T TELL A MACHINE ELF WHAT TO DO,” responds Bill. “NOT WITHOUT COMING TO AN AGREEMENT FIRST. SO, WANNA MAKE A DEAL?"

As you feel your surroundings become those of a vast desert, you respond, “OK, but what I want is kinda weird. I’ve wanted to have sex on drugs for years now. I’ve also wanted to meet a machine elf for years, but never encountered them, not even during DMT trips. So... will you fuck me?”

“YOU HAVE A MACHINE ELF IN FRONT OF YOU AND ALL YOU CAN THINK OF IS YOUR SICK RAW BIOLOGICAL URGE TO REPRODUCE?”

“You guys are all about reproduction, aren’t you?” you ask, momentarily distracted by multiple black rainbows arching over your head.

“NOT LIKE THE DISGUSTING FLESH PARADE YOU CALL REPRODUCTION. WHY DON’T YOU TAKE CARE OF IT YOURSELF?”

“It doesn’t feel the same.”

“FINE, SICKO. I’D LIKE TO POSSESS THAT MEAT SACK OF YOURS FOR A DAY WHEN WE’RE FINISHED.”

“Just a day? I can live with that.”

“GOOD. NOW GIVE ME A HAND... OR TWO.”

You put one hand in each of Bill’s black hands. He pulls hard, and soon painlessly rips your arms out of your body. To your surprise, there is no blood.

“Holy shit! I knew I should’ve gotten a trip sitter!”

Bill uses your left hand to slap your left cheek, then your right hand to slap your right cheek.

“STOP HITTING YOURSELF! STOP HITTING YOURSELF!”

You’re apparently too high or to feel pain, so you don’t put up a fight. You just sit back and watch as stars erupt from each strike, creating a pretty light show. You’ve used salvia enough times to know that when your high ends, your arms will be by your sides again.

“OK, enough FUN. Now time to DO YOUR FILTHY BIDDING.”

Bill makes one of his black hands into a pair of scissors and cleanly cuts away your clothes. He then uses your arms to part your legs and starts rubbing the back of your right hand back and forth over your clit. You soon find yourself grinding back. The friction feels hot, tingling, and deliciously addictive.

“SORRY, I DON’T LIKE TOUCHING HUMAN BREEDING ORGANS if I can HELP IT. OH WAIT, I’M NOT SORRY.”

After a few minutes of this, Bill folds three fingers on your left hand down, then slowly inserts two of your left hand’s fingers into your sex while still rubbing your clit with your right arm. You clamp your wet pussy around your cold ex-fingers and begin to grind against them. Your fingers go in deeper until they are lost inside of you. You’re reminded of all of the times that you masturbated over the years, and of every explosive orgasm.

Bill yawns, the eye at the top of his body momentarily turning into a mouth.

You horrified that you’re getting off to being fucked with your own severed limbs, yet your disgust melds with your lust and the strangeness of your high and entity encounter to create a feeling of excitement you can’t get enough of.

You grind against your ex-fingers harder, feeling a warm sensation making its way up your body. Bill thrusts your arm back and forth, finger-fucking you with your severed limb. He slowly straightens a third finger into your pussy, which you immediately start grinding against.

“IF YOU THINK ABOUT IT, this is NECROPHILIA, since your LIMBS are DEAD NOW.”

You feel yourself getting close despite Bill’s words. The friction against your clit and the sound of your fingers slipping partway out of you with each thrust are bringing you near the edge. Bill takes your right hand and starts lightly slapping your clit while thrusting your left hand faster. You moan as you feel yourself coming close to an explosive climax.

“WOW, YOU’RE REALLY GOING TO ORGASM FROM ME PLAYING WITH YOUR DEAD ARMS,” says Bill, returning to rubbing your clit with your right hand. “HUMANS ARE HILARIOUS!”

With a final thrust into your lifeless fingers, you finally cum, moaning raggedly.

“Can I have my arms back now?” you ask.

“SURE THING. YOUR SO-CALLED TRIP will END SOON, and my POSSESION OF YOUR FRAIL HUMAN BODY WILL BEGIN.”

The desert melts around you, the black rainbows fading to grey before dissipating into nothingness. You look at the clock and are shocked to see that only 10 minutes have elapsed. You look down and are relieved to see your arms again. This is your final recollection before you are ejected from your body.