The Unbound Genie

Disclaimer:

This story is purely fictitious and not suitable for anyone that is below the legal age in their country to view pornographic material. All characters involved in the story are over the age of eighteen and belong to me. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred. Reader discretion is advised.

Chapter 8: Atlas' Headache

* * * * *

It's sad to say it, folks, but this story must come to an end.

"Finally..."

We had no idea where we were going with this tale when it began, and it seems that some kind of plot developed as it progressed.

"Our first mistake was creating a multi-chapter story based around smut. Second, well, was thinking that we should have anything to do with a serious

plot

in the first place. The word itself makes me sick."

To balance out the abundance of sex and lack of actual story in what we've done thus far, I guess, the next three chap-

"I'm sorry, what?"

The next, and final,

three

chapters will be focused more on an edgy plot that will likely be completely rebuilt and overhauled sometime in the future.

"Everything you just said sounded like a lot of work that I wasn't expecting to do."

I told you before, I know-

"I kNoW hOw To EnD tHiS sHiTsHoW oNcE aNd FoR aLl."

... You didn't have to give a direct quote.

"If you wanted to give this story a

proper

send-off, we should just write about Jack drowning in breast milk or something."

As fitting as that would be, it just wouldn't sit right with me.

"Fuck you, and your wobbly chair. Get started before you turn three chapters into eight."

* * * * *

"Welp, it looks like he took the bait." Came from a featureless figure made up of a still, unnatural darkness. All around him and his companion were beams of lights passing around and through their figures in every possible direction, each randomly colored stream representing a piece of data that existed within that part of the internet they were located in. Though the figure and his form could be seen clearly within the part of cyberspace he occupied, his silent counterpart was nothing but a mess of glittery, silver static, doing her best to remain whole against the raging, rainbow static that was assaulting her.

"Hang in there just a bit longer, we're almost there." He said, his multi-voice filled with both sympathy and pity as his head turned and lowered to face the shapeless entity.

The silver mass of data just let out a broken, distorted sob in response.

"Paranoid shithead... Just click the link already." He grumbled to himself, crossing his arms and tapping his foot on an invisible surface while looking up into the chaotic sky of the fourth dimension.

"... There we go."

A moment later, there was a sudden flash of light, and the two beings found themselves in the physical world.

"Ahhh!"

Meg instantly cried out, looking down at the dark, grey carpet her hands and knees were pressed against with wide eyes. "Oh, oh god... Th-that was almost as bad as basic training." She said, her chipmunk voice quivering as her petite body trembled.

The short silhouette that had been accompanying her was no longer visibly present, but it was clear that he was still very much there with her. Just as he said before they had made the jump, they would become one upon crossing the barrier into reality.

The experience of becoming a genie altogether was disorienting enough, at first. She lived her entire nineteen years of life as an individual made up of flesh and bone, bound by the laws of physics, reality, and a murderous, psychopathic, artificial intelligence that could tweak the two previous aspects to a degree. Then, just ten hours ago, all of that changed, and it was as if she were a conscious, numb, rubber ball that's surface was covered with a trillion functioning, microscopic eyes.

And when Meg entered the internet a mere half-hour ago with her ghostly friend, each of those hypothetical eyes were observing a different, individual website with fervent attention for a few moments before it would be replaced by another as they ventured through cyberspace.

"You did great."

Several soft voices said from all around her, each of them speaking at the same time.

"So much porn..." Meg said, her projected human form looking up from the floor and towards the greyscale wall with wide eyes while her mind was doing its best to recall how to maneuver in a numb, semi-mortal state once again. "Why was it all porn?!"

"Humans are predictable. Have them create a universe built up of electronics, machines, and the illusion of privacy, and their innermost desires always come back to what gets them off, in the end."

"She was right. Humanity

should

be annihilated." Meg said as she slowly rose to her feet, then glanced around a small room belonging to the teenager that she was now using as an anchor to keep herself manifested within the physical realm, as well as a vessel and conduit for her to access and abuse the murderous, destructive powers of-

"Enough."

The dark entity snapped.

"We are nothing without the mortals, and never forget that. Banish such ideas..."

"... Damn you." She swore through grit teeth, cursing the bastard for restricting the violent thoughts that had just begun to come to a boil in her mind. It was odd, Meg thought, even though she couldn't feel, touch, or even view things as her perceptible appearance seemed to, it reacted to every emotion she experienced and anything looked towards anything she was primarily focused on.

It was unsettling, to say the least. Although it was much more preferable to what she suffered through on a day-by-day, hour-by-hour, minute-by-minute,

second-by-second

basis for the last century... Meg clenched her fists together in rage.

"Alright, look. I have a feeling that, eventually, I would have had to do this at some point anyway. I do apologize."

The fury that had sparked once again within the disks of silver in her eyes quickly died as soon as it was born, and Meg's hateful, vengeful expression was gone. Now, the short woman just stood there in all of her robotic glory, staring at the back of her current Master's colorless skull. With a clear, calculating consciousness, she instantly recognized the eighteen-year-old as a male by the name of Jack Thompson.

"For what? Castrating me? Or your pathetic choice for a human." Meg said, her chipmunk voice flat and disapproving.

"The first part, doll... er, sorry, no pun intended."

It awkwardly said. "Anyway, do not worry. He is a special kind of human."

"Elaborate." Meg said, craning around to get a look at Jack's stupid, surprised expression as he was in the middle of falling back in his chair. It was going to be a hard fall for him, she thought. Good. "I have processed all of his memories already. Unless we take total control ourselves, I do not see how he can-..."

"See?"

The being said with a chuckle when Meg's eyes went wide.

"Impossible..."

"But it is not, as you now know."

Meg swallowed, then blinked. After that, she was now sat in the center of Jack's bed with her back straight and legs crossed, staring at him with a fierce intensity. The aspect of using what limited power that she was provided came more naturally to her than she suspected it would, as did her quick grasp of how to function as an ascended being. Her entire view of everything located nearby within the confines of reality may as well be a massive multitude of ones-and-zeros that she was able to manipulate to a degree. Once Meg solidified an alteration, even something as simple as changing which space her projected form would appear and occupy, said form would blink its eyes in representation of closing them on one reality, and opening them to a new one in which her modified parameters existed.

"Speaking of which..."

"What do you have in mind?" Meg asked, ready for the mission she had originally set out to do before entering cyberspace with her reluctant new friend, who just so happened to ultimately be in control of their entire situation.

"Hey, this is all on you once time resum-"

"Stop reading my thoughts and wasting our time. What do you have in mind?" Meg snapped, her tone flat and her eyes ablaze with frustration.

"Alright, Captain Fun-Wrecker, be that way... Well, I was just about to point out that he's, well... He's got a lot of potential, but the kid's kind of coward at the moment, wouldn't you say?"

Meg rolled her eyes, then blinked.

"Hm. Shorter attention-span; aggression notched-up slightly... Inhibitions nonexistent, bingo. Glad we are on the same page."

"I suppose we should begin."

* * * * *

As if standing in the center of a supermall while each piece of glass inside and out was simultaneously shattered by the shockwave of a nuclear explosion, a tall man with long, swept-back, white-blonde hair exhaled a sigh of smokey satisfaction as time ultimately came to a halt and the invisible barrier around the Thompson residence was annihilated.

Semi-transparent, mirror-like shards of reality quickly scattered in every direction around the property and general area surrounding the house, but stopped after a random distance and ended up being littered throughout the airspace of the frozen, sex-frienzied party guests. As Atlas reached forward and gingerly waved his hand up vertically, the fragments of solidified space-time floating around lined up in the fashion of a jagged, spiral staircase that led from the roof of the house down to the grassy ground of the backyard. The man slowly took his first step down the walkway he'd fashioned from physical chunks of raw, concentrated reality, then continued down the uneven, spiraling pathway as a sort of invisible barrier of his own moved along with him, but only extended several meters past where the center mass of his body was located.

Anything that was caught within the field of the barrier was instantly changed; the glassy shards (aside from the ones he lined up and had yet to step on) disappeared when he came within range of them; the people who came into contact with it on his dissent further down soon became engulfed by the reality-correcting field as he continued on, most returning to their original forms while others were just partially transitioned back to normal as they had only been grazed by its influence.

For example, as Atlas passed high above two blonde bimbos engaging in a deep, sensual kiss while they pressed their surgically-altered and

very

pronounced chests up against one another, the reach of his barrier reached their heads, but no other parts of them. What remained were two tan, well-stacked bikini babes with the heads of regular ol' nerdy teen boys locking lips. An odd sight, to be sure, but Atlas would be sure to properly return them and everything else he had grazed back to complete normalcy once he identified the genie responsible for this madness, first.

He and Alpha were the most powerful duo in existence, but even abilities and functions that some of the lesser genies had at their disposal could prove to be a threat if used in a creative enough fashion, and that was especially true of the infamous

Omega,

if this actually were his doing, Atlas mentally reminded himself.

"Better safe than sorry. The last thing we need to do is to walk right into a trap."

Alpha's indistinct, disembodied voice agreed.

Once Atlas set foot on the Earth and took a long drag of the thick cigar in his hand, a bright, white pulse quickly emanated along the ground and spread out across its surface underneath the party guests, and the walkway behind him dissolved into nothing.

"Scanning."

Just a few feet away to his left and apparently unaffected by the effects of his barrier, a mousy redhead with a rump the size of Texas had her fingers and toes buried into the soil as she stood on all fours, taking the entire length of a nearly two-foot-long cock that was attached to an equally lust-crazed, raven-haired, and extremely chesty amazon. Atlas was glad to see that the teenager was physically capable of withstanding what was happening to her, and was impressed that whichever Master had decided on that feature of elastic indestructibility was either ingeniously creative, or a childish simpleton who just wanted people to be 'stretchy' and got lucky with his genie's abilities, he thought to himself as he stared down the prominent bulge of the amazon's cock that bulged out from the redhead's abdomen. Still, they were within the perimeter of his barrier, but yet they were unchanged by its effects and had a distinctive feature that caused a brief flare of rage to flush him just as it was noticed.

"Where is he?" Atlas asked coldly, just before spitting the girthy, half-smoked cigar out of his mouth.

Amidst the sea of black and white that engulfed the two, he could note the slight hint of red within the iris' of their eyes, just barely standing out from the rest of their colorless figures.

Atlas' pearly teeth ground down on the end of his cigar; his scorching, white eyes robotically darting through the crowd of people in the yard for any signs of the Epsilon.

"Target acquired."

It didn't take Alpha long to single-out the super-stacked short-stack in a long, red dress with her hand on the sliding-glass backdoor to the Thompson residence, just about to enter the domicile. The heavily inked woman appeared to be in her early twenties, but the stats of her being indicated that she was truly the age of forty-two, according to Atlas' heads-up-display as he highlighted her curvy figure with his mind's eye. Instantly he realized that the young, refined bimbo in a stylish dress was actually an ill-mannered, overweight mother and jobless housewife.

"Well, at least that rules out the possibility of him being 'solely' responsible for all this."

Atlas adjusted his tie, then ran his fingers back through his long, platinum blonde hair as he began towards the red-eyed Debra, whose body was completely greyscale otherwise, aside from her glowing, pupil-less, red eyes. As he neared, his barrier connected with her body and just like the previous pair behind him, nothing about her youthful, well-stacked appearance was changed. Her breasts were still the size of bowling balls and mashed together in the top of a long, off-shoulder, red dress, one that hugged her waist quite tightly to accentuate the big, bulbous butt-cheeks that stuck out several inches from the base of her wide, womanly hips.

Atlas reached out and placed a hand on the top of her head, towering over Debra as his bright eyes blinked.

Color and life bled back into Debra's figure in a heartbeat, and the muscles at work before time had frozen moved her forward by an inch, but she ultimately stopped once again, only this time out of raw fear. If it weren't for the glowing, red iris' of her eyes, which resembled that of tiny, rotating rubies with a bright light being shined through them, she would've been visibly indistinguishable from the rest of the party. A tense silence followed, one that lasted an eternity for the trembling MILF and the genie that had possessed her.

"Well?"

Altas growled through grit teeth, strengthening the grip on Debra's skull as he forcefully turned her to face him.

"Heyyy, how's it g-goin', sir? Just checkin' out this odd scene that popped up on my radar, myself. Didn't think I should bother Lucy with it, or anything. She's st-till busy over in Imperial City, after all." She stuttered, the voice of a young and terrified Australian man escaping her lips rather than the smooth, sultry tones that should've come out.

"Right." Atlas said, his deep, menacing tone as dark as the expression on his strong, oval-shaped face. "And you left my daughter alone and defenseless in Imperial City, without

my

consent. What in Creation's name were you thinking?"

"She

said it was fine if I took a little time off! Besides, I think Theta, well-..." Debra began to state, but abruptly paused and winced in pain from the pressure being applied by Atlas' huge, meaty fingers.

"How has the city been faring since the conclusion of Pi's little game? I've been preoccupied with the international backlash, myself."

Atlas was thankful that the Epsilon had given his host virtual indestructibility; he admittedly hadn't considered this woman's safety before his anger had gotten the better of him. Judging by the pained facial expressions she was making, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that she was currently conscious, awake, and in excruciating pain on some layer underneath his red subordinate's control. Best he eased up on his grip, for the woman's sake.

Debra let out a sigh of relief, looking only slightly less nervous, but certainly appeared to be more physically comfortable while remaining restrained.

"It's not terrible, to say the least." She said, a hint of reluctant annoyance in her smooth and masculine kangaroo voice. "The major gangs and players have either dissolved or been eliminated in one way or another, restoring normality for the majority of the population is...

in progress,

and even though we've wiped out every trace of that damned program, we still can't find that damned Omega. I swear, there's still no hard evidence that the copies of Master PC spawned in Imperial were the last ones on the planet. The bastard could be hiding in a dead satellite up in space for all we know." Debra's piercing, red eyes thoughtfully drifted away as she spoke, as if she had concerns of her own about the subject matter being discussed. Then, she looked back into the blinding white eyes of her superior. "Lucy ain't gonna' have no trouble cleaning things up without my assistance for a day or two, and I, uh..."

Everything that the Epsilon was saying through his host was acceptable, for the most part, but the pauses that followed when the subject began to change was curious, Atlas noticed.

"Fair enough." Atlas said, finally letting go of Debra's skull, to her great relief. "You bothered to mention Theta earlier. That's concerning."

"Ow..."

Debra slowly ran a hand through her long, brown locks as the pained expression on her face shifted into one of just mild worry. "Yeah, that's a bit of a situation, right there." She admitted, somewhat begrudgingly. "I won't bore you with the details, but in summary: My own, idiot daughter may or may not have been a bit too...

rough

on her Master during the course of the game, and she, well..."

"Spit it out, for Creator's sake." A Cerberus unit is designed to be a living weapon against all top priority threats to reality, and their Masters conditioned

thoroughly

to handle anything and everything that being controlled by one entails. Atlas wondered what could possibly have gone wrong. Sure, the known Theta's decisive actions were famously known among the other genies to be compared to a massive hurricane full of live machine guns in times battle, but the Master assigned to her was intentionally conditioned to be a living husk without any will, desire, or thought of their own to speak of.

"... Her master managed to kill herself a few days ago, sir." Debra cleared her throat then straightened up her posture, folding her arms behind her back and by proxy pushing out her big, wobbly milk-tanks. "She found some kind of weapon that was able to bypass Theta's protective measures, and, well, didn't hesitate once she got her hands on it." Her words didn't sound hurt at all, only slightly ashamed, as if a child was explaining to their parents how they had accidentally broken a vase that'd been knocked over. "Damn shame that only the Pillars are mind-readers when we're in our meatsuits, or else it would've been easily prevented."